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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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A Place To Call Home: Halloween

Summary: A casual Halloween night out for some drinks between the reader, TJ and Cody becomes anything but when the reader thinks she may have been drugged at a bar. When she calls Jensen for help, their relationship takes a fundamental change...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 6,100ish

Warnings: language, drinking, drugging, angst, fluff

A/N: This part takes place after the Jensen’s Day timestamp. Enjoy!

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“Trick or treat!” said Allie after your dad answered the front door in a batman t shirt.

“Well aren’t you the cutest little Elsa,” he said. He dropped a few big handfuls of candy in her bag and then a few more. He tickled Colin and got a laugh from him. “Colin you are the most adorable baby Yoda ever cutie and I gotta say...you ain’t a half bad Mandalorian, kid. You almost look tough or something.”

“It’s cause I’m a badass,” said TJ as he stuck out his chest.

“It’s cause you’re a nerd,” said your dad. You walked inside, Colin giggling as your mom stole him away without a second glance. “Nice costume though.”

“Y/N picked it out off some website or something,” he said. He sneezed and your dad shut the door. “God my allergies are killing me lately. Ragweed is horrible this year.”

“I know. De and I have been popping allergy meds the past few days,” he said. “You get it the worst.”

“Yeah but I started taking it like a week ago to build it up. I think it’s helping. Also, a bounty hunter and an adoptive dad? Mmm, peak man crush right there, babe,” you said, your dad rolling his eyes as TJ kissed your cheek.

“And what exactly are you supposed to be? A curtain?” teased your dad as you spun around.

“I thought I’d go another route,” you said. You took off your robe and he went wide eyed. “Soldier...girl?”

“Oh my God. You’re Solider Boy. That is so fucking cool!” he said as he looked you over.

“Jay, fuck’s a bad word,” said Allie.

“And we don’t repeat bad words, do we,” said TJ. “De’s got some more candy for you somewhere I bet.”

She took off up to the TV room and your dad walked around you.

“What do you think?” you asked. “Look real?”

“Okay that’s like good. Like real good. It’s just like mine from the show. Like even the shield looks the same.”

“It’s from the show. Kripke sent it to me. I know it’s a little big for my back but I couldn’t not use it,” you said. “I took a long shot and asked him on Twitter about it and he just like sent me the thing. He was really nice.”

“Good,” he said as he looked you over. “I am impressed. You guys might win your costume contest thing at whatever bar you’re going to.”

“I just want to go drink,” you said, TJ throwing an arm over your shoulders. “We’ll be back around eleven, midnight?”

“Go have fun. Mom and I’ll watch the babies tonight. Pick ‘em up in the morning,” he said.

“We didn’t pack bags for them,” you said. He stared at you and shook his head.

“You live a quarter of a mile away. We shall survive without you for one evening,” he said, pushing you both out the door. “Go have fun with Cody. I’ll see your hungover butts tomorrow, okay?”

“Don’t have to tell us twice.”

“Cody,” you said at the bar a few hours later. He finished off his drink and shook out his head. “Can you check on TJ? He’s been in the bathroom awhile.”

“Yeah. Order me another gin and tonic?” he asked.

“Can do,” you said. You hopped off your seat and paused for a moment, getting your bearings before you walked over to the bar. “Gin and tonic and another...graveyard…”

“Graveyard smash?” asked the girl behind the bar.

“Yeah. Another one of those. Oh and a bottle of bud,” you said. You handed over your card to pay, tucking it back in your shorts pocket. You brought the drinks over to the table, finishing off your margarita and the last of TJ’s old beer before you started sipping on the Halloween mixer.

It took about thirty seconds before you realized what you’d done.

“Fuck,” you said. You pursed your lips and took out your phone, biting your bottom lip before you dialed.

“You better be drunk calling me,” chuckled your dad. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“The guys are in the bathroom and I just drank from a glass that nobody was watching,” you said. You shut your eyes and felt a little off, not sure if it was because of the already decent amount of alcohol in you or something else. “What do I do?”

“Go to the bar and sit there and don’t move. The boys will be back soon,” he said. You tried to move but felt wobbly and sat back on your seat. “Y/N, don’t hang up on me.”

“Dad, I don’t think I can walk over there,” you said. “I’m drunk but...shit I fucked up.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Um, the uh...the place to the right of Jared’s.”

“Okay. Sit there. I’m gonna call…” he said as you stared down at the bathrooms. “Y/N. Answer me.”

“I think something’s wrong,” you said. “The boys are taking too long.”

“Cody is a police officer and TJ is tougher than he looks. They’re probably throwing up or something,” he said.

“TJ said he felt funny,” you said as you stared at his glass. “What if it was in his drink?”

“I don’t know but whatever you do, do not leave your spot,” he said.

“But it’s TJ.”

“Y/N I’m having a hard enough time not freaking out right now. Please do not move,” he said.

“Hey! Soldier boy!” said a guy walking by in a homelander costume. “Nice suit.”

“Can you do me a favor?” you said, the guy smiling as he leaned against your table. “My husband and friend went to the bathroom a long time ago and didn’t come back. One’s the Mandalorian and the other one is a zombie. Can you check on them for me?”

“Yes I can very drunk girl,” he chuckled. “I’ll be back.”

“Y/N, stop putting the phone down,” said your dad in your ear.

“Homelander’s going to look for the boys.”

“Your boys or The Boys?” he asked.

“Should I have clarified?”

“Just...I’ll be there soon. Don’t-”

“Boys!” you said, Homelander wandering back over with a very pale looking TJ and a wet Cody.

“I think your friends were puking in the alley,” said Homelander.

“Thank you so much,” you said. “You’re so sweet.”

“Mind if I get a pic? Your costume is kinda perfect,” he said.

“Not at all,” you said. You hopped off your seat and felt better. “Ah, okay. Just drunk.”

“Hm?” said TJ as you hung up your call and the other guy gave him his phone. “Hey there’s a starlight over there too.”

“Starlight! Come get your pic taken with the Seven, girl!” you shouted.

“She’s drunk,” said the homelander guy with a laugh.

“After three of those graveyard smash things? Oh for sure,” said TJ.

Half an hour later you were onto another drink and TJ was fanboying over star wars with another guy in a Mandalorian outfit. Cody was talking to the starlight chick who was maybe in a relationship with the homelander guy. They were at least mutually pining for one another if they weren’t already.

“Morris. Come on. I’m drunk and even I can tell Kayla Starlight over there is dying for you to ask her out,” you said. He shrugged and you cocked your head. “Oh come on.”

“She’s been my best friend since I was like four. Like, I can’t fuck up twenty something years of friendship if she’s...how fucked am I?” he asked as you smirked.

“So fucked,” you laughed. “Trust me. I was besties with my husband for years before we finally talked about it. Sometimes you just gotta-”

“Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone?” you heard your dad say. You spun around and gave him a smile.

“Is that the guy that played-”

“Walk away kid. Now,” growled your dad.

“See ya around, Y/N,” he said, Kayla disappearing with a wave with him. TJ spun around and your dad shot him a dirty look.

“What’d I do?” asked TJ.

“You three are glued to your phones yet tonight for some reason, you seem to have forgotten they exist. If you’d read a text then you’d know that she called me half an hour ago saying she thought she’d been drugged.”

“What?” Cody and TJ said, both of them staring at you.

“Fuck, Y/N I thought someone took you,” said your dad. You opened your mouth and he shook his head.

“She’s just drunk,” said TJ.

“Well thanks for the update. You could have answered your phone,” he said. He glared at you and shook his head. “Don’t ever do that again.”

He left the bar and you slid off your seat, jogging outside, telling the boys you’d be back in a minute. There were a lot of people out for a Friday night and it took a second to find him in the crowd.

“Dad,” you said. You caught up with him as he walked down the sidewalk. You tugged on his arm and the man spun around, very much not your father. “Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“Nice costume,” he said and you stepped back into another body, your head swimming. “You gonna puke? Alley’s over there.”

You turned your head and jogged around the corner, spitting up your stomach with a big heave. You wiped off your mouth and sighed, getting up to your feet. There was a shove on your back and you got pushed further into the darkness, falling onto the dirt and gravel. You spun around on your bottom and saw the guy from before.

“Be more careful, kid. You’re tripping there.”

“You pushed me,” you grumbled as you stood up, picking up a rock in your fist as you went.

“You’re on something. You got that look in your eye,” he said. You narrowed your eyes and he walked forward, close enough for you to whack him in the head with the rock. He swore as he fell down and you ran back onto the street, jogging away until you got to a street corner and saw a familiar back of someone’s head.

“Dad,” you said, tugging on his jacket, relieved to find it was him this time. “Dad, there was-”

“I don’t want to speak to you right now,” he said. You swallowed and stared at him, his face hard.

“Dad. I-”

“You never hang up the phone with me when you call me like that ever again, do you understand?” he said. You stared at him and his jaw clenched. “Of course you don’t. You’re drunk.”

“Dad I’m not. I-”

“You smell like vomit,” he said with a scoff. You turned around and saw the man from before hanging back, shooting you a look. “Go back to the bar, Y/N.”

“Dad-”

“Would you just go?” he shouted.

“Dad don’t. I need-”

“For fucks sake. Just go away.”

You let go of his arm, tears welling in your eyes.

“Grow up,” he said. You stepped back, watching him walk across the street.

“D-Daddy,” you said. He stopped in the crosswalk and looked back at you, his gaze following yours over to the man. The man saw him look at him and took off back towards the bars when he saw your dad scowling. Your dad jogged back over to you, tensing when you took a step back from him.

“No one’s gonna hurt you,” he said. He stepped closer and you squeezed your eyes shut. “Y/N. What’s wrong?”

“I feel funny and I’m drunk and I’m scared and I’m scared of you,” you breathed out. “You were gonna leave me alone.”

“Y/N-”

“You said you wouldn’t leave me alone,” you said. You stumbled over to a nearby wall and slide down it, your head in your hands. “Don’t leave me alone. You promised. You said so.”

“Okay,” he said as he sat down beside you. He kissed the top of your head and you heard him shudder. “You’re okay, munchkin, I promise.”

“How are you feeling this morning?” asked the doctor that walked into your room.

“Tired,” you mumbled. TJ and Cody were there in their own stalls, still in their costumes, your dad out in the hall talking to someone.

“Your blood alcohol content was up there,” he said. “Especially you, Y/N.”

“I want to go home,” you groaned.

“You’ll be discharged shortly,” he said. You grumbled and half an hour later you were signing something that you could leave.

“Y/N,” said your dad as you walked away from the nurses station. You glanced over your shoulder, glancing down until he came over. “We need to talk about last night.”

“No we don’t. We got too drunk. I fucked up. Lesson learned,” you said. You started to head out and he grabbed your shoulder. “Jensen let go.”

“Y/N,” he said, spinning you around. He opened his mouth and you crossed your arms, shrugging him off. “I made a mistake.”

“I had to beg you to help me. I called you daddy I was so scared,” you said. He shut his eyes and you growled. “Look at me.”

He snapped his eyes up, his eyes a little red already but you were too angry to care.

“The only other time I’ve ever called you that, I thought you were dead on that road. I thought...I thought there was absolutely...I was drunk and maybe drugged and your reaction was to get pissed at me, at us, for not answering phones. A man tried to attack me and I got away because my dad told me to grab whatever I could if I was ever in that situation. There you were, the safest place in the world, the safest I could ever feel after something like that happened and you told me to go away. I was terrified and you could see it on my face and you left me. You made me beg for you to help me. I don’t know who the fuck you were last night but you were not my father. You’re Jensen again until he decides to come back.”

“Y/N,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Congratulations. You’re just like every other foster father I ever had.”

He stared at you and you turned around, walking past both TJ and Cody.

“Y/N,” said TJ and you kept walking. “Y/N. Jensen, she didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, I did. Let’s go TJ.”

One Week Later

The doorbell rang and you rolled your eyes, TJ walking past the couch and away from the door.

“TJ, can-”

“Tell him yourself,” he said, going to his office and slamming the door. You glared at it before going to the front door. You opened it quickly, your dad standing there in his raincoat and swallowing thickly.

“Is this about work?” you asked.

“No,” he said quietly.

“Then get off of my property.”

“Y/N-” he said as you slammed the door shut in his face. He rang the doorbell again and you ripped it open. “Honey-”

“I’m not your honey or kiddo or tall munchkin or anything, Jensen. This is me telling you that I want you out of my life,” you said. He lowered his head and you heard him sniffle. “I don’t give a fuck about if you cry. Get out of our lives. Stay away from my family.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he breathed out, forcing his head up. His eyes were red and puffy, face tired like it’d been that way for days. “I’ll do whatever you want. I promise.”

“You humiliated me,” you said, stepping outside and pulling the door shut. “I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” he said. “I love you so much you-”

“You don’t even know. Boo fucking hoo,” you said. He stepped back and looked small, rain dripping down on him now. “The real world sucks. Get used to it.”

“I made a mistake. Please,” he said. “Y-you don’t have to forgive me. You can...just let me try. Please. We’ve always tried. P-please let me try.”

You stared at him, watching him look down, watching him debate getting on his knees.

And it dawned on you what you’d done. What you’d said.

“Y/N, Y/N, honey,” said TJ. You looked up from the floor of your bathroom, your dad knelt down on your other side. “Honey, look at me.”

He grabbed your face and you felt wet tears streaming steadily down your cheeks.

“What happened?” you asked. “I was on the porch and now I’m here?”

“You were talking to your dad outside and he said you just...fell over crying.”

“Something’s wrong with me,” you said. You shut your eyes and TJ looked around.

“I’m gonna call the doctor,” he said. “Jensen can you keep an eye on her?”

“Of course,” he said. He kept his distance and you sniffled, opening your eyes. He looked down when you met his eyes and you started to cry.

“I’m sorry,” you said. You grabbed his arm and sat up on your knees, giving him a big hug. “Dad I’m so sorry. I love you. Please forgive me. Please. Please. I’m sorry. I want to be your daughter. I want my dad back. Please.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” he said. He relaxed and felt like himself again, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Uh, guys?” asked TJ. You lifted your head up, TJ holding up his phone. “Y/N, I think I know why you freaked out on Jensen so bad.”

“How would the doctor know that over the phone?” asked your dad.

“There’s a recall out on a certain allergy medication warning people not to take it according to this headline,” said TJ.

“Why would-”

“It’s not allergy medicine. It’s an antipsychotic drug. They mixed up the pills during manufacturing. Apparently if you give those to people that don’t need them, it fucks with their heads,” said TJ.

“You take them too,” you said as TJ nodded, your dad quiet. “Dad you and mom do-“

“I think we all better go to the hospital and get checked out. Right now.”

“How do you feel?” asked your mom a few hours later.

“My head feels normal again,” you sighed from your hospital bed. You opened your eyes, her hand running over your head. “Did I fuck it up. With dad. I think I broke it. That thing we had and it’s never going to fix back the same way.”

“You were on a very strong antipsychotic without you knowing. We are lucky all you had was some anger and a few delusions. It could have been much worse,” she said. “Daddy’s not mad, sweetie.”

“Mom I’ve never seen him like that. I was so…”

“Wasn’t just you,” he said as he rounded the corner into the room. He was out of his clothes and in a pair of pants and a plain t shirt now, holding up the bracelet on his wrist. “Why’d I have to get all the crying? I would have rather have been pissed off like you got.”

“Your test came back positive?” asked your mom.

“Yeah. So far that’s Y/N, me, TJ, Cody. The younger kids don’t seem to have it thankfully since they take the kid version. They want you to get tested though,” he said.

“But mom’s been normal,” you said as you sat up.

“Well…” he said as she rolled her eyes. “Mom’s been a little...aggressive in-”

“Don’t need to know,” you said. He chuckled and he took a seat on the opposite bed, your mom heading out. They hooked him up to an IV to clear out his system and he took a seat beside you on the bed. You looked down, getting a bump on the shoulder. His hand as on his lap, palm facing up and you smiled.

“Thatta girl,” he said as you rested yours in it. “Gonna take more than some antipsychotics to tear us apart.”

“You are the greatest foster father I’ve ever had and arguably the kindest human being I’ve ever known,” you said. He was quiet and you took a deep breath, looking across the room. “You protected me, even when you were being affected by this. I want you to forget everything I’ve said from Halloween night on. It wasn’t true. Not a second of it.”

“Was the daddy part true?” he asked. “The accident.”

“I expect you to protect me when TJ’s not around. I expect it when he is too to be honest. I spent a long time protecting myself. I was scared on that road. You couldn’t protect me. You couldn’t protect me from watching you almost die. I know how life works and that parents are not invulnerable. They get hurt. They get angry. They make mistakes. They’re human. But I’ll always be your child and on a rare occasion, I’ll need my fucking daddy to tell me it’s okay and I’ll believe him. I’m sorry for hurting him so badly.”

“You are still as ridiculous as the day you walked in your room and told me not to bother with you,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You can hurt me. You can destroy me. You can ruin me beyond repair. You’re the only thing that puts me back together though. Heals the wounds so I forget they existed. I’ve been broken before. More than you know. I am sure I will fall apart again too. But these small creatures I call my children fix all of that. The girl who ran away, who was afraid of me, she just told me I make her feel safe. I protect her. So I’m sorry but I won’t forgive you since there’s nothing to forgive. You weren’t yourself and neither was I yet you still pushed past it and realized this wasn’t normal for us. Maybe some people fight and some families would have let it go but we know we don’t stop trying in this family. Even when we’re all a little off. I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” you said quietly. He fixed your hair again, playing with it for a moment. He tickled the back of your ear and you giggled. “Dad.”

“Giggles never hurt either,” he said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and pulled you in close, kissing the top of your head. “You’re not that scared kid anymore, Y/N. You’re never gonna be her again. You’re strong. Even now, I know this will bother you for a little while but it won’t change anything. We’ll be even better if that’s possible.”

“You were begging me at the house,” you said.

“Could have gotten that new bronco you’ve been looking at. Sounds like you lost out,” he chuckled.

“Dork,” you said as you hugged him.

“I’m sorry for how I acted that night at the bar too. I’ll never do it again. I promise to not leave your side if you ever call me for help. Not for a second.”

“Dad you don’t have to apologize.”

“I’m bigger than you. I get to force this apology,” he said. “Am I forgiven?”

“Always,” you said. You saw a guy go past in the hall and you went wide eyed. “That’s the guy from the alley!”

“Hey,” said your dad with a smile as you got up. He walked out with his IV, you on his tail as the guy turned around with his doctor. The man looked at you and shook his head. “You’re the dickhead that tried to hurt my daughter aren’t you? I thought that was you.”

“Ew,” you said, looking at the infected cut on his head. Your dad moved forward and you caught his arm. “Um, maybe we can call the police?”

A security guard at the nurse’s station got up and the man sighed, your dad narrowing his eyes.

“I was only gonna kill him a little,” he said. The man stared and your dad cocked his head. “I’m hopped up on anti-psychotics buddy. I can be very creative.”

“Dad,” you said, dragging him back into the room. “Let the police handle it.”

“I did get a little too happy about fantasizing over that,” he said as he sat down. You rolled your eyes and took a seat, laying back on the bed.

“Am I too big for a cuddle?” you asked.

“Nope, especially not in the hospital,” he said. He sat back and you rested your head on his shoulder. “Where is that husband of yours anyways?”

“I think he’s on the phone with the lawyer trying to sue or something,” you said. “Let him wander the halls and get it out of his system.”

“Excuse me?” You both turned to look at the door. “Hi. I’m Morris Harrison with Richmond...Solider Boy?”

“Homelander?” you said as Morris shook his head. “Uh, hi?”

“Hi. I uh, I’m a lawyer at Richmond and Associates and we’re working the class action against the pharmaceutical manufacturer. I got a call about more cases,” he said, handing over a business card.

“We’ll be getting the family lawyer in contact with you rest assured,” said your dad. He nodded and looked away. “You okay?”

“Morris this is my dad, Jensen. Dad this is the nice boy from the bar you shouted at,” you said.

“To be fair, I was mentally impaired...and I mean come on, Homelander? Gotta be careful of those,” he smirked.

“I was actually gonna be…” he said, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

“You and Kayla were gonna be Sam and Dean! Oh yeah. Now I remember,” you said.

“I like the new friend,” chuckled your dad.

“I’ll see you guys around sometime. Maybe a little less drinking this time?” said Morris.

“Yeah. Text TJ. We’ll get together,” you said. “Oh. I gotta ask. How’d the Kayla situation work out?”

“We have our sixth date tonight,” he said. You grinned and he rolled his eyes. “You’re alright drunk girl.”

“Later Homelander,” you said with a wave as he left.

“He was nice,” said your dad. “Did I really shout at him?”

“Yeah. I think he’s a fan so thank you for being nicer this time,” you said.

“Well...at least you made a few new friends out of this experience?” he said. “Silver lining?”

“I will take a quiet, happy day for now,” you said.

“Me too, kiddo.”

Three Days Later

It was after ten when you slipped inside your parents house. It was a little dark, your siblings all at sleepovers. You poked your head around a corner, your dad in the kitchen mixing two cocktails together. He lifted his head up, cocking his head.

“Y/N?” he asked as you stepped out from around the corner. “What are you doing here?”

“I know you and mom got the house to yourselves so I’ll only be a minute,” you said.

“Uh, what?” he said as you walked over and gave him a hug. He returned it and ran his hand over your head. “Y/N. I know you didn’t mean what you said. You can stop apologizing. Please.”

“I know,” you said.

“Alright then,” he said. “I’ll take free hugs anytime.”

“Dad.”

“Yeah?” he asked as you squeezed him hard. He returned it and you smirked as you looked up. “What are you up to?”

“Can I show you something?” you asked. He nodded and you pulled him with you towards your old room, back to being one for guests. You walked him inside and sat him down on the bed as he watched you. You went over to the closet and turned on the light reaching up top into a shoe box. You took it down and walked it over, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“My dad’s kinda sappy and he writes me these letters,” you said. He rolled his eyes but smiled, putting his hands on top. “I started writing back. I put them in this box and figured one day you’d find them. But I know it wouldn’t hurt for you to maybe peek a look now after everything.”

He nodded and smiled, freezing when he took off the lid.

“Y/N...how many letters is this?”

“A boxful?” you said. “I maybe write them with more...frequency than he does. They are dated and hopefully in order.”

He picked out the first one and shut his eyes. You bit your bottom lip and he took a deep breath.

“This is from four days after your seventeenth birthday.”

“Every time I went to therapy I wrote one. Some are for mom but your names are on the envelopes.”

“Why does this one say dad?” he asked, holding up the first one. “I wasn’t dad for years.”

“Oh we both know you were my father the first day I stepped foot in here,” you said. “I could pretend to a piece of paper. It was safe. It wouldn’t hurt me. I started calling you dad in my head a very long time ago. I just didn’t say it in case you didn’t want me to be your daughter in the end.”

He put the envelope back in the box and carefully put the lid on, tucking it by his side. He wiped off his face with the back of his hands and looked up at you.

“Next month you turn twenty eight. You’ll have been with us for a hair over eleven years. This last year...the accident...TJ and his dad...now this...you’re the adult more lately than I am.”

“Dad I’m almost twenty eight like you said. But my head still feels...younger. You’re fifty one. But you still probably think of yourself as a twenty year old kid.”

“You are learning the secrets of adulthood after all,” he said, wiping off his face again. “Y/N...I have this fear when it comes to you. It’s only you. I understand why. But it’s a fear I’ve lived with for quite a long time. It’s a fear I thought came true earlier in the week.”

“She was a bitch that didn’t know better.”

“Don’t call yourself a bitch,” he said, sounding young, shaking his head. “You’ve always been tougher than me. I put on a good act but I’m...I’m privileged and I’ve had an easy life and even that seems hard sometimes. I couldn’t be you. I’m not strong enough. I’m not strong enough to erase the fear that I had, that lingered.”

“What are you afraid of?” you asked as you sat down on the bed.

“I have always loved you. But there was a time you didn’t love me and it took a while before it was unconditional. I’ve always had this fear that I would fuck up and hurt you, make you not love me anymore and that’s selfish of me. I know it is. But I can’t lose you. It just...I was broken last week. Like somebody ripped part of my soul out and it was gone forever. I’ve dealt with grief and death and heartbreak and nothing has ever hurt like that. The drugs did all that I know but...I would have done anything to get you back. Anything. And this girl, this amazing young woman, she writes me letters. She’s been writing me letters for eleven years. I never had to be afraid of you either, did I.”

“No,” you said. “But it’s okay. Boys are allowed to get scared too.”

“Your parents did a pretty good job with you,” he said.

“Yes. I think the four of them did too,” you said.

“I didn’t raise you.”

“Yes you did,” you said. You shoved a hand in your pocket and pulled out an envelope, handing it to him.

“Another for the box?” he asked.

“I already snuck today’s in there,” you said. “This is different.”

“What is it?”

“Just open it.” He untucked the flap and laughed, pulling out the sheet of paper. “TJ thought it was cute.”

“An IOU to tag along whenever I’d like when you go out drinking,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna need several hundred more of these while you’re at it.”

“How about like three?” you said.

“I will settle for you calling me if you think you’re in trouble,” he said. You nodded and he rested his head on your shoulder. “Even drugged up you still did that.”

“Well, the drugs didn’t kick in really until that night. Having allergies sucks,” you said. “You get the runny nose and itchy eyes and the crazy stuff. So not fun.”

“Nope,” he said, giving you a hug. “I was totally gonna have sex with mom all night but now I got all these letters to read.”

“Oh God, gross,” you said, shuddering as you stood up. He laughed and lay back on the bed, giggling as you shook yourself off. “I don’t need to hear about your nasty sex life.”

“I have an incredible sex life. Like so much-”

“Goodbye father,” you said as you walked out of the room.

“You don’t even want to know how often if I’m being honest,” he said as you walked quickly to the front door. He cracked up and you groaned. “Night, kiddo.”

“Night, dad. Enjoy your letters.”

You woke up around three in the morning, rolling over in bed and catching a few texts on your phone. You lifted your head and saw they were from your dad, a smile growing across your face.

I read the last letter first. All I gotta say is you never have to worry about me going away, no matter how much you scream and shout. You’re stuck with me forever, kiddo. Not even strong medication can tear that apart. Nothing can.

Also, for the record, I get to be the sap in this relationship, not you. Box full of cards. Do you know how hard it is to one up that? Do you? Keeping me on my toes kid. I’m sure I’ll come up with something though.

Love you tall munchkin.

“Something wrong?” mumbled TJ. You put your phone down and shook your head.

“Not at all,” you said. You tucked in close to his side, TJ rolling to his own and tucking your head under his chin. He hummed and rubbed your arm, kissing the top of your head. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey.”

________

A/N: Read the Dads timestamp here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x daughter!reader #rpf #au #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #spn fanfiction #jensen x

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fayeimara · 3 years

Text

Meant To Be Series || One For Every Billion

5. Thank Some Gods

You end up in Hyogo for a real hot minute over your winter break, thanks to your cousins Akira and Akari who decided to drag you along when they were forced to visit with their mom and older brother. Being a year older then them and already a seasoned solo traveller, the parents all thought you'd be a great chaperone. Woohoo, yay you.

Truth be told, you love spending time with them and you're really happy to be able to see your aunt and other cousin, their brother Kazuya, that you'd missed over the summer, as well. Although you did have to apologize to Tobio and his family because when you'd promised you would stay with them next, you should have specified you meant next time you were in Miyagi. Not Japan in general. You think they were just taking the piss though.

Oh right, your vulgar new phrases are courtesy of Akira, thank her very much. Spend a few minutes in the twins' company and you end up talking like them, or whatever their west coast academy friends are currently teaching them, at least. Akari has a valley girl phase going and you think Akira is gearing up for a Tarantino-inspired life. Can't see how your family is let that going to happen, but it's not your job to tell him that.

"Y/nnn, did you try this dango!" Akira runs right into you, appearing from the crowd of people on the festive street of the shopping district you're in, and locks her free arm around yours while waving a stick with round balls on it in other other hand.

"No, but I waited 10 minutes standing still in the cold and crowd so you can bet that I will. Half of that is already mine."

"Hmph," She scoffs, "No one told you to stand still and wait around, silly."

You give her an exasperated look, "You literally said, 'stay there a minute, I'm grabbing us some sweets!' and bounced off."

"Okay, okay, chill your roll, girl."

"Not sure that's a saying, girl."

"Maybe not at the snooty east side preps."

"Yo." Akira appears on your other side. "Half that's mine."

"A third. Or none at all." Akari sticks her tongue out at her twin.

He looks over at you and you nod, twisting quickly so you can grab and hold her occupied arm still while he plucks the dango from her hand.

"Hey! Looks like it's none at all!"

"No. Looks like it's half mine, half Y/n's." He bites off one of the chewy balls (okay, we all know how that sounds.. slow your roll, girl) before holding the stick in front of your face so you can grab one too. Oh wow. It is good. Why did you wait so long to try it? So many years wasted without enjoying this sweet texture.

You can see your third cousin approaching, holding onto a tray of steaming drinks, as you chew over your thoughts on the delicious dessert (see what you did there?).

"I got your coffee", he holds the tray between us so I can grab one of the cups with my free hand, but like.. Kazuya, which one is it?

"Kazuuu, they're bullying me!" Akari pouts for sympathy only for Akira to fire back almost before she reaches the last word.

"She bullied me first!"

Instead of responding to either, he rolls his eyes at their bickering but they're only having fun. You've never met siblings that have each other's backs more than these two. You think Kazuya misses it too, having decided to study in Japan and live with his mom who consequently chose to work here, while the other two live with their dad - but really at a boarding school - back on the American west coast.

"Whatever, are you grabbing your drinks or what?"

Akari only smiles at her older brother's deadpan expression, "Which one is my hot chocolate, niichan?"

"Please don't call me that."

"Why not?"

But it's Akira who answers with a snicker, "Because you don't even go here, brat. It's cringy coming from you."

"Shut up, ugly clone."

"That's literally impossible unless you're calling yourself ugly too."

Okay, you're just going to go for the cup closest to you on your left. You pick it up and sip slowly... success. The sweet, warm flavour of your white chocolate mocha slides down your throat.

Kazu is giving you an arch look now, he knows how much you live for coffee but he's still going to say something about it, right? "You know it's already dark out, I don't know how you can drink this stuff so late. Don't you want to get some sleep tonight?"

"Bold of you to assume I need sleep." You smirk at him over the rim of your cup while Akari makes an attempt at snatching the remaining dango back from her brother around you. Please don't make me spill.

"Nah, I just assume you're a robot and this is your regular maintenance or something."

You consider his words before shrugging, nothing too mean that you can call him out on, you guess. "Down the hatch then."

"Sure thing, but I'm not staying up late bingeing your crappy shows with you when you're wired."

"But you'll binge a non-crappy show?"

"Maybe."

Another smile for your favourite cousin of the minute. He did get you coffee, you know. Akari's managed to grab the third sweet off the stick with her mouth like some rabid animal, but it makes sense because the hand not still holding onto you is holding back Akari's arm. They're going to smac-

And they hit the tray that Kazu was only just holding. He somehow manages to grab one of the drinks you assume is his out of it's spot while avoiding the wreckage spill of the other two cups. He didn't even try to hold on to it, which is partly why you're laughing as both twins start simultaneously apologizing and complaining about their spilled drinks.

Kazuya's deadpan expression is actually pretty communicative for the the moment, "I'm not going back for another, this is on you guys."

"Kazu, do you like being mean to us?" They actually ask this at the same time but Kazu's not even phased.

"Yes, I want you to suffer." He's dry as ever.

You chuckle but they're so sweet, most of the time, so you'll make it up for them, "I passed a stall selling hot chocolate, since we don't need to replace my specialty coffee, I can go there to get you some."

"Me too?" Akira asks hopefully.

"Yes, you too, puppy."

He rolls his eyes, trying to adjust his expression back into an uncaring one. It's more natural on his brother currently, but you can definitely see him grow into a more serious demeanour someday.

"I'll come with you while these two stay put." Kazu gives his younger siblings a stern look.

"No need," You wave him off, grabbing the stick with the last piece of dango and handing it to him, "Enjoy this as repayment from us all for making you go all the way back into the mall for our drinks. In the meantime, I'll be right back."

"Hold on, you're going to the one next to the onigiri stand, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Okay, straight there and back in fifteen minutes or I'll come find you. And if I have to worry, I won't be happy."

"Okay niisan." You roll your eyes with your sarcastic tone. Older brothers. No wonder he and your brother Raiden get along so well, they're under some misassumption that their younger siblings just can't help getting into trouble, as if you all only live to annoy them. And he was doing so well as your favourite cousin for the time being.

You stroll away from the benches you were waiting at by the end of the street where the outdoor stalls meet the main street shopping mall and melt back into the crowd. This festival really is something, so brightly lit with pretty twinkling lights strung up everywhere and curled around any available post like glowing, warm yellow vines. You absolutely love the vibe but you know you're on a time crunch.

You notice the onigiri stand just ahead of the drink stall and debate for a quick second before stopping in the surprisingly short line up. A piece each of sweet dessert does not a stomach fill. Unfortunately, just as you take a sip of your coffee, someone bumps into you from behind, causing it to spill over your lips and dribble down your chin but you adjust enough in time, holding the cup out and away from you, so that you're not covered in any more than that and the little bit on your hand.

You hate wet clothing with a passion, especially when it's cold outside and it clings to you with that awful chilly, sticky feel. Not so bad when it's on your coat, but on principle, that's just as unpleasant if you run the cuff of your sleeve over it or it get on the collar and then you have the tiniest bit of discomfort right by sensitive skin and that makes it all the more glaring.

You realize the person who bumped into you also reached out to steady you at the same time and is now speaking, "Shit, I'm so sorry."

It's a little quiet but you make out his apology through his thick dialect. Hm, you think that's where the odd changes in Kazu and his mom's speech are coming from, a regional osmosis of accents?

"No worries, it's pretty crowded." You only half turn while you search your pockets for a tissue or napkin, spotting a flash of grey in your peripherals. Then an arm covered in that grey reaches out to hold a napkin in your field of view and you finally look up to see who it belongs too.

And now you're just staring. Hi there, I'd like hear your voice more. Preferably while you stare at his mouth move on his beautiful face. You can't believe he just had his hand on your waist, even if it was just for a split second and over layers of clothes, and you didn't get to appreciate it.

"It's not dirty." He shakes the napkin, you're assuming because he thankfully thought you were thinking that over instead of ogling him.

You chuckle, thinking how you definitely need to send thanks to some divine power on the new year for all the interactions with some serious eye candy these past six months, but out loud you say, "I really need to thank some gods out there, huh?"

What?

He gives you a confused look but you catch yourself and, before he can respond and question your sanity, quickly follow up with, "Or just you. For this. Thank you for the napkin."

"S'alright. Wasn't a big favour, really, just makin' up for my fault bumpin' into ya." You're not sorry he did, though? You can't tell what he's thinking, this guy is a closed book, folks. It's kind of jarring, since you consider yourself exceptional at reading people and acclimating to them.

You finally actually accept the napkin and wipe at your mouth and chin first, then your hand, responding, "At least you didn't make me drop the coffee or we would have had a real problem."

You think he realizes you're teasing because the corner of his mouth actually inches up the tiniest bit. You're not imagining, you swear it on your mocha!

"Coffee this late?"

"It's 11am somewhere."

"Ya wake up at 11am?" What an interesting thought process he has.

"Are you not on winter break? Or do you just assume your typical hours in every conversation no matter what day of the year it is?"

"Huh." You think he sounds thoughtful? Or was it just the word and you're associating it with how you use it..

"That's not an answer, but I'll take that to mean you go the typical route." You smile again because like you said, he's unreadable and you really don't want him to think you're being bitchy. You're really grateful for the napkin. And that face. So... yeah.

You're moving up, thankfully, because you thought you were blessed but this is just turning into what feels like an awkward encounter.

"I like sleepin' in, but sometimes I get too hungry so I'm up when my stomach is."

You look back at him in surprise, obviously because he bothered to continue a seemingly closed conversation, but that quickly turns into amusement and commiseration, "Oh I know! It's mostly coffee for me because not a lot of people bother to make breakfast in my house, but if I smell something delicious cooking, I forget I'm not a morning person."

He does smile fully then and it's beautiful. "Me too, but I'm usually the one doing the cookin'."

"Oh wow, that's dedication. I can respect but never reach that ideal." You hold your hand to your heart in a silly salute but also because he's still smiling and you're trying to tell your unreliable organ to be still. Not too still though, you're enjoying the moment and want to keep living it.

"Eh, I'm used to it."

"Well then, for once, let someone else take care of your food. I'll get your order for you."

"Seriously? It was just a napkin and my fault too.."

"Yeah, no, don't worry about it! Consider it a gift in essence of the festival!"

He doesn't say anything for a moment before, "I was going to try the different flavours. That's a lot."

"No way, that's awesome! I'll do that too, I don't even know what they have available, I just stopped here on a whim on my way there." You indicate the stand next to the one you're almost to the front of with a wave of your hand.

"Ahh.. if ya like, I can suggest some?"

You happily smile at him as you accept, "That would be great, thank you so much."

The two of you step up to the counter together and you listen while he orders. While you both wait for them to place each of your requests, he explains some of the fillings and why they work best depending on personal taste and even situation. You tell him about having just tried dango, sad about having realized you missed out so long, and he actually smiles widely at your exaggerated pained expression but also recommends some other desserts, including which shops to stop at in the city.

It's starting to snow as you two talk, which is not rare but still unusual for this region, but thankfully it's not much longer before you're each handed your containers and move aside. You look over to him and laugh when you realize this guy is already munching on one of the onigiris, your breath puffing out in a small cloud before you. "Which one is it?"

"Fatty tuna." He talks around it with his own little puffy cloud and it's pretty cute actually, instead of the usual cringe when people talk with their mouths full. Oh, the benefits of being good looking. Also, he's tilted his head down ever so slightly so it's almost polite in a perfected way.

"I'm just going to go ahead and assuming you're enjoying it."

He nods while swallowing and then makes some pretty intense eye contact while speaking way too seriously, "Thank you. This is amazing."

You smile, feeling like in the minutes the two of you were conversing, you've gotten a little more comfortable with the minute changes in his expressions. "You're welcome. I'm going to head over to the drink stall now, but it was nice to meet you!"

With a laugh as you walk away, you also add, "And thank you for sharing your knowledge with me, at least I'll know where to feed myself when I'm craving different things this week."

You're turning away as he seems to stand there watching you with some hesitation, but you can't do all the heavy lifting in a conversation when you're on a time limit, so you'll chalk this up to another fun run-in with a cute guy for the books.

You're lucky there's no line up, you're really short on your deadline and your fingers are getting pretty cold along with your coffee, so you pay for the hot chocolate, they pour, and you're back off towards the end of the street where your cousins are waiting.

You can't move too fast given the bag dangling from the wrist of the hand that's also carefully holding the tray of four hot chocolates, but the crowd is also thinning out a little now with the snow. Hopefully, if you're a couple minutes behind the expected time, the diverse and sheer amount of onigiri you have in the bag you're now holding, as well as the new round of warm drinks, will bring you forgiveness.

You finish up the last, cool dregs of your coffee just as you pass by a trash can, making the split decision to quickly reverse so you can toss your cup and free up a hand. As you execute your smooth move and then turn back, you unsurprisingly bump into someone yet again. Not so smooth then, you think, looking up.

It's deja vu and for a split second, you consider that he might actually be a weirdo and followed you, because stopping in your path as an apology drops from your lips is the guy you were only just talking to, same face, same dark hair, even same height... but with a different jacket on.

It takes you all of one more second to notice the small differences like the eye colour, the way the hair naturally parts, and the slightest difference in size, not to mention the more obvious difference in openness and personality literally exuding from this one. He's actually smiling wide right away with no provocation. So not a weirdo who changed his jacket and followed you.

Also, have you ever considered the odds of multiple sets of twins being in pretty much the same place at the same time?

"Oh, there's another one of you, huh?" You're talking again before he even has a chance to respond to your apology, but you guess you feel familiar thanks to your brief encounter with his twin. "That's unfair, don't you think?"

You step around him calling out, "Anyways, sorry about that. Enjoy your night." and walk away, back towards your own set of twins.

Ugh, Kazu's going to kill you. You won't be making it in time, for sure.

Miya Atsumu's POV

Atsumu turns to follow the stunning girl's progress as she moves around him and away, catching her last words but still more interested in her previous statement. 'There's another one of you, huh?'.

People have been confusing him and his twin for as long as they've been alive and only those that know them really well can only sometimes make out the difference.

It's no longer amusing, and actually irritating enough that he and 'Samu have been considering a little aesthetic change some time next year, maybe before their first year of high school.

'Tsumu knows it's his brother without looking when someone walks up to his left side from behind him. What he's surprised by is his first words, "She think you were me? I was talkin' to her a bit at the stall."

When he glances over, he notices 'Samu staring after her as well, with a lot more interest than simple, piqued curiosity. Does he know her?

"No.." He contemplates her words again before sharing with his brother, "She said 'There's another one of you, huh? That's unfair, don't you think?' and then walked away."

He can feel 'Samu looking over at him curiously, "Did ya talk to her?"

Why is he asking? He hasn't even picked up a new onigiri from the open box in his hand. "I just bumped into her. Didn't even say a word. Do ya know her?"

"Like I said, I only just met her." Pausing, 'Samu seems to think it over before adding, "We only talked a few minutes, maybe."

The twins are silent for another couple moments, while the snow continues to drift around them. The girl is long gone, swallowed up by the crowd at this point, but they keep staring at where they last saw her retreating figure, each in their own intrigued thoughts.

Finally, 'Samu's the one who breaks the silence, "Do ya believe in coincidences, 'Tsumu?"

"No, 'Samu, ya know I don't."

Prev | Next

Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-Tee was called out in the first thread because he doesn't use emojis often, especially not the half assed ones he used for a scenario like that so... caught slipping lmao (aw he does care about Y/n <3 Maybe more than he should?)

-Y/n was NOT expecting to get called out like that for saying she likes Oikawa when she'd literally just called him her friend... Iwa, you slick wingman ;) <3 He might bully the shit out of Oikawa (to keep him in check though) but he really is his best friend :')

-Ushi says what he means and means what he says lol, yeah, he wasn't really surprised

-Y/n's friends aren't all necessarily happy about this development; they've been aware of her various interactions as they usually are (some more than others) but... they're getting older and, well, all not sharing as much with each other as they once did

-But they're still going to call her out and roast her because they're her best friends lmao who else will? They have to keep her in check too loool

-Oikawa's last reply... <33 Take it how you will :D

-And Shin just dropping in to screenshot his cousin's embarrassing moments, hoping for a dirty delete so he can roast her all over again for the same crime lmao, probably shouldn't have warned her though... whoops

-I HC the Miyas' hair dyeing happening at/around their first year of HS, anyone know any different? It was only Osamu's jacket that was grey in Y/n's peripherals, just a little tease for us all ;)

A/N: Guys, I'm really, really sorry about the Miyas' 'accent'... you might see a couple different attempts in there but I had to edit a lot of what I tried out because it sounded just awful however I was originally trying to write it earlier. If you guys do have any suggestions, I'm very much all hears (and eyes lol - heart eyes specifically because I've seen some write them incredibly well!).

That aside, I hope you all enjoyed this one, I loved writing it so much, it just flowed once I started and I love the Miya twins, each in their own way <33 I've been dying to introduce them and the other 'main' characters but there's definitely going to be a difference in the weight of interactions Y/n has for a while. It's not favoritism, I promise; Y/n's time spent with various characters is just going to be uneven at various points due to the natural progression of her story :') but I plan for it all to even out as we move along the years (:

Taglist: @delusivist, @prettyinblack231, @kac-chowsballs, @sakusasimpbot

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vicegrips-fr · 3 years

Photo

Into the Black

Azizi divulges his upbringing and the horrors that came with it.

-------------------- I’ve debated sharing this on here because to be completely honest it’s very personal and not for everyone. I’ve decided to open up and share it anyway with the appropriate warnings. It’s no secret that I vent through my own ocs to explore the intense abuse I survived and this is one of those lore posts that delves into that. Hopefully some of you will take the time to read it and if not I completely understand. It’s a long one and difficult to read in many ways I’m sure.

Gustav belongs to my boyfriend @wyvernrising!

Warnings: language, themes of parental abuse, drug/alcohol abuse mentions, and unpleasantness abound.

Pings: @fusefr @kattafr @stimmy-dragons -------------------

They’re together for the night. Himself, Gogo, and the Sub Rosa sent to protect them which includes his boyfriend Gustav. There’s an injury to his hand which isn’t self-inflicted but the product of his past come back to bite him in the ass today. Since then they’ve been sharing their stories to pass the time and ease the tension, getting to know each other better and well, now it’s his turn.

“You don’t have to share,” Gogo peeps up sympathetically, scooting closer so that their thighs are pressed together.

He already knows the truth, knows how hard this will be for Azizi to talk about.

Azizi waves a dismissive hand in the air, happily allowing Gus to take hold of the injured one and press a kiss to the knuckles. Some small part of him does care what they’ll think but it’s drowned out by the stubborn I don’t give a shit what you think of me attitude he’s spent a lot of time cultivating for himself. “We’ll see about that,” he says, pouring himself a glass of wine.

He pauses, bottle in hand as his eyes land on Gustav’s glass. There’s still wine inside but he fills it back up to the top for him anyway. Whether he chooses to drink it or not is irrelevant. Maybe he doesn’t want him to; more wine for him.

Their previous compliments earlier in the night did not fall on deaf ears and bring a smile to his face when he remembers them. “Ha! I am a pleasure to be around, aren’t I?” he chuckles, licking his teeth, “If I were a bore then I wouldn’t be netting as much dick as I am on the daily.”

It’s crude but true. He’s popular for a reason and part of it is his bombastic, nasty personality. Truth is sunshine and rainbows have no place in a brothel, no matter how hard Gogo tries to change that fact.

“But you’re right about what you all said,” he sighs, “It’s an ugly story, just like the rest of you have.”

For a solid few seconds he lapses into silence, picking through the pieces of his life inside his head like dusting off an old photo album. None of the pictures inside are things he wants to see, they’re kept in a box for a reason, after all.

“Where to begin?” he muses to himself, swirling the wine in his glass around, transfixed by the dark red liquid sloshing around the sides.

“Like Gustav and Gogo I was born in Neo Necropolis. The slummy part, obviously. My mother’s name was Tiwa but she went by Candy. If that doesn’t tip you off she was a stripper. A popular one, I was told.”

He stops to sip his drink, the mere mention of his mother’s name enough to elicit that response. Jesus. How long has it been since he said her name out loud?

“My father’s name was Ayoola but everyone called him Ayo,” Azizi continues, the wine burning all the way down his throat, “And his biggest claim to fame was his appetite for men and women. He frequented just about every brothel and strip club in a fifteen mile radius.” Azizi looks up, eyes passing over everyone’s faces in favor of focusing on anything but.

“You can all put two and two together and figure out how my parents met,” he laughs without joy, “They were never married, of course, but they lived together and it wasn’t long before I was born. Not like they were kind of people to use protection, but I sort of wish they had.”

It’s a terribly dark thing to say and painfully true. Plenty of people in a bad situation have the same thought- I wish I was never born!- and he can’t count how many times he cursed the world for being forced into it. “They fought all the time,” he says, recalling the first time he was old enough to understand the words they were yelling.

------------------

”Get off of your ass and do something for once!” Tiwa screams at the top of her lungs, “I work my ass off on the pole every night and you can’t even get off the couch to get Zizi his breakfast? Pathetic!” It's early. Early enough that the sun is only just coming up, bright light streaming in through the dingy window in his bedroom despite the tall buildings that surround their home. It’s not the first time he’s been woken up this early from his parents fighting. His mama is gone all night, returning every morning and sleeping most of the day away, but not before their daily fight. Tail between his legs Azizi tiptoes quietly to the end of the short hallway, his little hands gripping the corner of the wall as he peeks out from behind it to see what’s going on. ”Oh, I’m pathetic?” Ayoola shouts back, “That’s rich coming from a pole crawler who calls herself Candy! The pipsqueak isn’t even up yet so fuck off to bed already and quit your yapping.” Azizi can’t see them from where he’s standing so he lets go of the wall and steps into the living room, ducking back into the hallway as quietly as possible when he catches a glimpse of his father laid out on the sofa, beer bottle in hand. ”No Ayo YOU fuck off,” Tiwa says loudly from the kitchen, bone tired and her tail lashing behind her in anger. “I’m not dealing with this mess when I’ve been up all fucking night, do you hear me? I’m not your mother, I’m your girlfriend and I need your help. We’re barely getting by, for fuck sake. Just… try to be responsible for once in your miserable life. Please.” ”Jesus fucking christ Candy, get a grip,” Ayoola snorts nonchalantly, rolling over so that his face is pressed into the cushions of the couch, “I’ll do the dishes and get the brat his breakfast, alright? Will that shut you up?” Tears in his eyes, Azizi shuffles off back to his bedroom and curls up on the small mattress laid on the floor of his tiny bedroom, pulling the blanket over his head. The shouting continues but it’s muffled through his hands over his ears and, after a little while, he falls back asleep.

-----------------

“It was really annoying,” he scoffs, “How they’d fight over just about everything. It was like they couldn’t help themselves. No matter how small the affront they would manage to find a way to turn it into something more.”

He’s getting off track. Blinking away the memory like it’s nothing, Azizi drinks deeply from his glass and marches forward. “Anyway,” he mutters, taking another small sip, “I was, hm, about eight or nine years old when my mother up and left. I can’t blame her, really. My father was a bum and an addict who brought other men and women home when she wasn’t around. More than once she walked in on him cheating on her and I guess that plus his allergy to contributing anything to the ‘family’ was enough to put the final nail in the coffin. We all have our breaking point.”

-----------------

”Where’s mama?” Azizi asks, tugging lightly on his father’s pant leg. It’s midday and she hasn’t come home yet. Ayoola is passed out on the couch, his dirty hair sticking up in different directions, spit and booze drying in a crust at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t respond right away. It takes Azizi asking the same question a few times before he’s finally roused awake. ”Huh?” he mumbles, cracking an eye open, “Oh. That.” Ayoola doesn’t seem particularly worried about Tiwa’s absence, just slightly annoyed to have been woken up. ”She left,” he sneers, grunting with effort as he pushes himself up and grabs a crumpled piece of paper that had been wadded up underneath him. “Don’t worry, she’ll come crawling back eventually. Until then how about you go play or something. Daddy is trying to sleep off a cold.”

It would only be a couple more years before Azizi would realize that these frequent ‘colds’ were actually hangovers of varying degrees. A week turns into a month, a few months turn into a year and Tiwa still hasn’t come back. Around the six month mark was when Azizi realized he would never see his mother again. In another three months he would grow angry and resentful, pounding his little fists into the floor because she left him behind. She left him alone with HIM. ”That selfish bitch!” Ayo yells, putting another hole in the wall with his fist, blood seeping from between his fingers, “Leaving me to take care of you by my fucking self! How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?! Tell me how! Where’s the money going to come from?! I’m sinking here! Do you know how many people I owe money to?” Azizi sobs into his hands, tiny body curled up into a ball on the sofa as his father paces back and forth like a caged animal, ranting like a lunatic at the top of his lungs. ”I… I don’t know!” Azizi cries, far too young to understand all of the things his father is saying, “I’m sorry dad! I’m sorry!” -------------------

“After Candy split the house chores fell to me,” Azizi murmurs darkly, setting his drink down to reach for another cigarette instead, “The cooking, cleaning… Him. Ayoola was a full time job. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I had to clean him up after a blackout. Put him on his side and make sure he wouldn’t throw up and drown in his own vomit.”

Azizi pauses, takes a drag from his cigarette and sighs.

“He drank and shot up so much that the floor was littered all over with the aftermath,” Azizi chuckles bitterly, “I’d have to wade through the filth being careful not to stab myself with a used needle, turn him over and check his pulse. Clean the puke off of him with a rag and then pick it all up.”

Gogo sniffles, rubbing his eyes dry on the back of his hand. It’s at this point that he wants to interrupt, to tell Azizi that he doesn’t have to go on if he doesn’t want to. But as if reading his mind, Azizi looks over at him and smiles sadly.

“It’s okay, Gogo,” he says as soothingly as he can manage, “I’m fine.”

Another pause as he tries to collect his thoughts, memories he wishes didn’t belong to him. “As I got older we started to fight more and more,” Azizi murmurs, “At that point I really had replaced my mother in almost every way.”

----------------

”Zi! That you?”

”Yeah, it’s me dad,” Azizi replies a little flippantly, “Who the fuck else would it be? One of your booty calls?”

Ayoola snorts with laughter, looking up at him as he walks into the room with bloodshot eyes. ”Have I ever told you that you look like your mother?”

Azizi rolls his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he leans in the doorway.

”Yeah,” he answers flatly, “Like, fifty times this week.” Ayoola nods sadly, head rolling to the side as he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep again. Frowning, Azizi goes to his room.

----------------

I won’t cry, Azizi thinks, he doesn’t deserve my tears. “Eventually I ran away,” he informs them, unable to bring himself to give them the gorier details of his life, “And I went out with a bang.” Chuckling softly at his own wording, Azizi brings the glass to his lips again. “That makes it sound like I shot him dead,” he hums, “Sadly, I didn’t. We got into a fight, another bad one where he didn’t just use his words to berate me but his fists. I shoved him backwards, he shoved me harder, I slapped him, and he told me to get the fuck out of his house- I happily obliged.”

----------------

”You!” Ayoola screams, following Azizi around the house as he does his best to get away from him, “Where do you think you’re going?! I’m talking to you! Where the fuck were you?! You knew you had a client coming over! You knew and you went out anyway- hey!” His hand lashes out violently, grabbing Azizi by the arm and yanking him back. ”I’m not playing with you Zi!” Ayoola says, spittle flying and his teeth grinding together as he gets up in Azizi’s face, “You’re in big fucking trouble. If you’re going to live under this roof-” ”I don’t want to live under this roof!” Azizi screams back, slapping Ayoola in the face in an attempt to get him to let go, “I want to be as far away from you as humanly possible! You’re a fucking monster!” Ayoola doesn’t hesitate to backhand him, the force of it throwing Azizi to the floor where he sits shocked and rubbing tenderly at his freshly bruised cheek. ”Then get the fuck out!” he shouts, jabbing a finger in Azizi’s face as he looms over him, “Leave! Just like your mother did! I’ve taken care of us for how long and you’re acting out like this because I ask you to do your part?! All you have to do is put out! Easiest fucking job on the planet!” Azizi stares at him, dead behind the eyes as he’s yanked back up onto his feet and shoved hard against the kitchen wall, a hand around his throat. ”You hearin’ me? Answer me-” Azizi screams, shoving his father back so hard that he trips over his own feet and falls backwards. ”Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” he wails, shoving past Ayoola and out the front door. Ayoola gives chase, pausing in the open doorway to yell after him. ”Then go! Die on the street for all I care!”

He does not follow.

-------------------

“To make an already long story short,” he says, glancing over at Gustav and then quickly averting his eyes, “I spent a long time, years, on the street just like Gogo. I did what I knew how to do best. Eventually I ran into Chaka.”

At the mere mention of his name his blood runs cold, the events of his sad life replaying all over again. He handles it though, shoving it deep deep down inside himself where it belongs. “He took me in off the streets you know. Well, for the most part anyway,” he admits, “There were plenty of times he’d leave me on a corner. To teach me a lesson, he’d say. I mean, I do have a reckless mouth so is that any surprise to you guys?” He laughs humorlessly, eyes finding Gogo’s. “But I met Gogo because of that,” he adds very fondly, “So hey. Silver-linings.” Sighing deeply, Azizi downs the rest of his drink in one go.

“I’ll save the stuff with Chaka for another time,” he murmurs, “If I go into that right now we’ll be here all night. Needless to say I didn’t go down the best path after leaving that hellhole, but if I’m being honest I don’t regret it. Dealing with Chaka’s bullshit was a hell of a lot better than dealing with my old man’s.” Despite his best efforts there’s a wet shine to his eyes now, but the tears don’t fall. Not even when the memories are threatening to choke the air out of his lungs. “So, that’s part one of my story,” he says faux cheerfully, “Now you know I come from trash. Do with it what you will.”

End.

#flight rising lore #fr lore #lore: the velvet fang #azizi #my lore #sorry for any typos #this was a pain to format on here

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neocity-sarai · 4 years

Text

Tattoos Together

❈ main concept: childhood best friends to lovers!

❈ pairing: mark lee x reader

❈ alerts: fluff, angsty angst, language, parties, mentions of drinking/smoking, mentions of the dreamies/other idols

❈ song reference: “tattoos together” by lauv

Vancouver has always been home. Since you were a child, Vancouver has been the place to be. Years of dinners in the city, biking around Granville island, and field trips to the Victoria gardens were the norm, just little secret spots you go to when you want a getaway- an escape from school, work, whatever it is you’re doing. At age 15, the Lees moved into the light blue house next to yours, the one with overgrown weeds in the yard. The one with the crooked, leaning mailbox in front of it- daisies painted on the rusty metal. A young girl, an artist, used to live there until she moved to Paris for her next exhibit- leaving the lonely, periwinkle house behind. That day the Lees moved in, your parents baked more muffins than usual (on purpose) so they could welcome our new neighbors by enticing them with food. The saying goes that a way to a person’s heart is through their stomach right? When dad is done packaging them up into a neat little box, he shoves it into your hands, “Y/N. I hear the Lees have a son about your age, go introduce yourself.”

Glaring at your father, you set the box that was tied with a small yellow ribbon on the table before saying, “I’m sure they can manage just fine without the muffins. Why do we have to go greet them now? they’re probably tired from moving.”

Mom gives you a stern look, her jaw tightening, “Don’t be silly, it’s a nice gesture. Come back before dinner is ready.”

Before you can even protest, your parents are shoving you out the door, still careful not to crush the perfectly wrapped box. Stepping over the stairs, you finally manage to make it to the door. Here goes nothing? The cherry red door swings open lightly after you linger my finger-tip on their doorbell, opening up to a pretty woman- her facial features defined of asian descent. Her dark hair is tied into a loose braid, her pink sweater tucked into the waistband of her culotte pants. The woman smiles at you, the corner of her lips upturned, “Ah- you must be Y/N. I just got a call from your mother.”

You try to hide the shaking of my hands, handing her the box of warmed muffins, “Uh-hi Mrs. Lee. My parents made some muffins to welcome you to the uh- neighborhood.”

The woman’s eyes crinkle until her eyes stretch thinly, “That’s so nice of you! Thank you, I’m sure Mark will enjoy these!”

You question,“Um- Mark?”

Her laugh is light and airy, “My son-Mark! Wait here, I’ll get him.”

You wave my hands at her, motioning my refusal, “No worries, I-I have to get going for dinner..”

She doesn’t wait to listen to my words before turning away from the door to scream Mark’s name. A few minutes later, a boy wearing a dress shirt over his black t-shirt comes stumbling down the stairs, a pair of black headphones hanging off his neck. His glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as his jet-black hair sits as a messy pile on his head. It looks like he hasn’t combed it in days. Mark shouts, “What? What did you need mom?”

Mark’s mother clutches him by the arm, shoving him into my view, “Meet y/n. She’s the daughter of the family next door.”

At first, no words come out of Mark’s mouth, his doe, boyish eyes as wide as saucers. Mark’s mother hits him in the back, causing him to cough abruptly, “Uh-yeah-my name’s Mark. W-what’s your name?”

Mark’s mother laughs again, leaning down to whisper into his ear, “I already said her name is y/n!”

Redness creeps up to Mark’s cheeks, his nose tinted a slight shade of rose as his dark irises bounce everywhere but at me.

You smile anyway, “It’s y/n.”

He gives me a small smile and a nod, eyes set on the ground. His mother speaks up again, “I’m really sorry y/n, my boy’s really shy around pretty girls…”

Mark lightly hits his mom in the shoulder, “Mom! Don’t say that! You’re embarrassing me!”

His face is as red as a tomato, glasses sliding farther down his nose only for him to push them up with the tip of his index finger. I laugh at their cute relationship, holding out a hand to Mark, “It’s nice to meet you. I hope we can be friends?”

Mark stutters once more, his eyes wild with energy, “I-i’d like that very much-h, yeah.”

After you tell Mrs. Lee goodbye, you give Mark a nod before turning back on to their driveway. The both of them stand in the doorway, Mark’s voice reprimanding his mom in the house behind me. Maybe it wasn’t so bad meeting the Lees after all. That night, you go to bed, replaying the vision of Mark’s embarrassed smile in your mind.

Age 18 (senior year)

The next several years breeze by. Ever since Mark Lee enrolled into Everlane high, he wasn’t as shy of a freshman compared to the day you met him all those summers ago. Over the years, he grew a lot taller, his face a lot mature, yet still adorably awkward at the same time. He became a smart student, one favored by many of the science teachers- causing his friends (Jeno and Jaemin) to roll their eyes playfully whenever Mrs. Scofski would praise Mark for solving a chemical equation on the white-board. Mark was a basketball captain along with his best friend Hyuck, the two always tag-teaming during the school’s games. Due to Renjun’s forcing, Mark joined the student body as a reputable member. He became a biology tutor for kids who had found science class difficult or just fooled around without paying attention (Jisung and Chenle being two of those kids). Quickly, Mark was showered as Everlane’s golden boy, your neighborhood’s ideal son. He was doted as smart, popular, and mr. perfect to all the girls in the area- no matter how much he always denied it when you told him so. After your first meeting, your parents would frequently eat together, alternating households. The Lees also force Mark to walk you home from school, in fears that you would be kidnapped by a random stranger. At least he was good for one of many things- telling you that he’d swing his basketball at any person who would come even close to you.

Most days after your homework sessions, you’d plan new adventures with each other. your week went like this: on Mondays, you went walking along the water, skipping rocks on the bay until the sun went down and could see the glitters of the city sky-line. In the spring, the sky would melt from a tangerine orange color into a musty silver. On Tuesdays, you’d get clam chowder at Phil’s on 2nd avenue, Mark always ruined his shirt ( you would forbid him to wear white on Tuesdays) and then you’d sit on this abandoned rooftop above an old department store. Up there, the air always felt cold so that you would have to blow your warm breaths into your hands, lean your heads on each other’s shoulders as Mark let out his high-pitched laughs. On Wednesdays, it was maple waffles before school in Gas town, the steaming clock chiming delicate music by the hour. Thursdays were meant for taking stupid photos, listening to dusty mixtapes, and hanging out with the rest of your friends. Last Thursday, you would all go to the Capilano suspension bridge and sit on a treehouse’s edge- causing Hyuck to scream from the heights. Jaemin always quieted him down with a bone-crushing hug or a playful kiss, earning a look of disgust from Renjun. You always wanted gelato after that. On Fridays, all of you would stay in for a movie night at either Mark’s house or yours- Jeno punching Chenle to stop him from making fun of the ghosts in the horror movies you’ve been watching. It never works. Saturdays were like Mark’s public appearances at Everlane high’s party scene, one call and you all would be at someone’s house party. You’d never really enjoyed them though: too many people, too much dirty dancing, and the burning stench of vodka stung your nose. The only reason you would stay is for Mark and the boys. Sundays, your family and Mark’s get together for either dinner or lunch- switching off every week. Your parents would even play a betting game to choose who gets to wash dishes, Mark groaning every time his family loses rock-paper-scissors. Spending time with the people you loved made the days go by faster as you never particularly had bad days in the extreme. Piles of homework and grumpy teachers didn’t hold a candle to what you’d get to do every day- if it meant spending time with Mark. When you go to bed each night, you would feel content- happy, even.

Monday

You still think back to the moment when the boys were eating lunch in the cafeteria, like you did everyday. Chenle was talking about how he’d earn himself detention because he was messing around with chlorine in chemistry in order to make Jisung laugh.

“You’re such an idiot, Chenle. That’s going on your record, you know?” Jaemin scoffs.

Holding his sandwich in one hand, Jeno sweeps his coffee-colored bangs out of his eyes, “What do you expect? it’s Chenle- it’s like he’s powered on candy all the time.”

Chenle slurps up his gummy worms in an exaggerated motion, “I’ve already been through 6 packs of these since this morning. I feel so sick.”

Narrowing his eyes, Hyuck rests his chin on the palm of his hand as he pouts his lips, “Poor baby, eat more and you’ll be blowing up the toilet in no time!”

Chenle squints his eyes at the blond-haired boy, tossing a gummy worm at him, “Hyuck! Stop it!”

Hyuck continues to laugh as he clutches his stomach, Jisung stealing the candy from Chenle’s fingers before stuffing it into his mouth. I pull Hyuck up from his side, “Hyuck, you’re going to fall, sit up!”

Due to his lack of breath, Hyuck stares into my eyes, his golden irises gleaming, “You’re here to catch me though.”

You push him back down, palming my hand onto his face, “Stop reading cheesy rom-com lines. It’s so not cute, cringey at that.” Before Hyuck can finish whining, we’re interrupted by Mark plopping his food tray on the table. Jaemin says, “Someone’s late. Where were you?”

Mark looks like he’s out of breath, heaving and panting as he cards his fingers through the crest of his raven hair. “You guys aren’t going to believe this but, I think Cassandra likes me.”

Jaemin raises a skeptical eyebrow, “You mean Cassandra as the cheerleader who got kicked off the team for drinking last year?”

Suddenly, you stop paying attention to the conversation anymore. All you feel is the weight of your heart sink, my limbs feeling heavier at your side. Hyuck looks at you, noticing your fallen expression before clutching your hand under the table, giving it a comforting squeeze. It seems like Jeno sees it too because he glances from you to Mark as Mark excitedly explains his story. “Yeah, I was just finishing up some tutoring with Roberto from last period and Cassandra gave me her number after that! Isn’t that sweet?”

Jaemin nods disinterestedly, “Yeah, sweet I guess.”

Among the group, you have only ever admitted your feelings for Mark to Hyuck because he cornered you about it one day. Yet, it seems like Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun have caught on from their pitied faces. Mark drones on about how “totally cool” and how athletic he thinks Cassandra is. The difference is you don’t play any sports and you don’t slap coats of makeup on your face every-day before school, nothing like Cassandra. You shake your head at the ping in your heart- a small glimmer of hope that Mark would ever feel the same about you. By the time lunch is over, classes feel longer than usual. They drag on, your teachers’ words in one ear and out the other. You text Mark that you have to stay over for school so he can walk home without you- a blatant, utter lie. Instead, you opt to put my headphones in and take the long route home. Plopping on to the surface of my comforter, you hear the familiar ring of Mark’s text tone.

[2:55 P.M.] (Marcus Lee <3) Y/n? Did you get home okay?

[2:55] Yeah, I did. Thanks Mark.

[2:56] (Marcus Lee <3) Hey, are you okay? You seemed a bit down today? Like you know you can tell me anything right?

[2:56] Yeah. I know. I’m just a bit more tired than usual. Stayed up last night writing Mr. Gillion’s paper..

[2:57] (Marcus Lee <3) hahahah ewww. That doesn’t sound fun… Do you want to go into town and get churros later?

[2:58] I think I’ll pass today, I got some homework to finish. I hope you have a good day though :)

[3:00] (Marcus Lee <3] hahaha okay. I guess I’ll have to take my mom on a churro date then hahah. See you tomorrow! ;)

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hang out with Mark. Still, you couldn’t forget about the way Mark’s eyes sparkled when he talked about Cassandra, the way his voice cracked from the excitement of talking about it. How can you expect him to know? To reciprocate? It’s not like you were dating, you have no right to be jealous of Cassandra- a pretty girl, someone who had football players falling at her feet. Even if you had told Mark the truth, what if he didn’t feel the same? It would make these awkward, not to mention with your friend group. You shouldn't.

Tuesday

In all honesty, you had forgotten about yesterday’s lunch conversation. That was until the reminder hits you like a slap to the face when you see Cassandra’s arms wrapped around Mark’s neck as he laughs into her shoulder. Renjun and you had been walking to art class, the crack in your heart widening by the second. They fit so well, the way Mark’s basketball jacket matches Cassandra’s cheerleading uniform, the way his teammates and her friends hang out together in a pack. Renjun whispers to you, “Are you okay?”

You nod at him, trying to conceal your emotions, “Just fine, let’s head to class.”

When you pass Cassandra and Mark along with their cluster of friends, Cassandra’s voice comes out in a squeaky tone, “Hey, y/n.” When you turn to look at the pair, you see Cassandra’s hand daintily resting on Mark’s stomach, his eyes wide as saucers when he realizes you and Renjun are in front of him. You hear Renjun mutter an ‘ugh’ after curtly waving to them. Mark leaves Cassandra’s grasp, motioning towards you both, “You guys going to art? I’ll walk with you-”

Before you can answer, Cassandra wraps her thin arms around Mark’s waist, “We have to go help Felix with the party stuff remember?”

Mark scratches the back of his neck before glancing back at her and you with Renjun, his mind in a state of conflict. To make it easier for him, you smile at him, “You go, looks like you’re busy.”

Walking faster, Renjun drags you by the arm as we breeze past the crowd of athletes and cheerleaders. Renjun rolls his eyes again, “I don’t get why he likes her so much, they haven’t even been friends for that long and you’re right-”

You cover a hand to his mouth, “Renjun, it’s okay. I’ve accepted it by now.” You try to convince yourself at the very least.

After art class is done, lunch time seems to come in a hurry. Everyone takes their usual seats, Hyuck on your right with Renjun on your left. Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung sit around you three in a circular formation. Jaemin speaks first, “So, what, are Mark and Cassandra dating now?”

Jeno shrugs his shoulders before stuffing a quarter of a cookie into his mouth, “Don’t know and don’t care.”

You say, “Looks like it, they were pretty intimate in the hallway this morning.”

Renjun and Hyuck make disapproving faces, Renjun quips, “I don’t know. I feel like this is happening so fast and he told me that he really-”

“Shut up!” Hyuck screams at Renjun, throwing a limp french fry at him.

“Ew, what the hell was that for?” Renjun’s eyebrows are furrowed with disgust, patting the fabric of his white denim jacket from any salt crumbs.

Hyuck’s eyes go wide as he makes a zipping motion on his lips, his blond hair gleaming under the dim lights, “Don’t say it- she needs to hear it from him!”

Renjun shoots back, “But it’s so obvious, what difference does it make?”

“What are we talking about?” Chenle’s face contorts with confusion, Jisung looking at him for any hints.

Jaemin glares at the pair, “Shh, let’s just all move on.”

You say, “I’m with Chenle, what are we talking about?”

Hyuck places a firm hand on my shoulder, his honey blond hair casting shadows on his forehead, “Nothing, it’s not important.”

As you eat, you spot Mark walking over to all of you, his black backpack slinged over one shoulder before setting his food down. “Hey, guys. We can squeeze in two right?”

Hyuck looks at Mark, his eyes furrowing with bewilderment, “Two?”

“Hey guys!” Cassandra’s preppy figure pops out from behind Mark. She looks more done up than before: red lipstick, long platinum-streaked hair in a slicked pony-tail, and the tightest cheer-leading uniform she could fit herself into. She plops herself down in between Mark and Hyuck, taking off the container of her salad before looking around our table. I sense Renjun and Hyuck give me a look while the other boys continue to eat in silence.

“So what did you guys do today?” Mark asks. Jaemin gives him a short response while Jisung explains how the class pet mouse made it’s escape during second hour, earning a chuckle from Mark. You get an odd feeling in your stomach when Cassandra looks at Mark so lovingly at your lunch table. The boys’ dynamic seems almost disrupted every time Cassandra butts in to say that she doesn’t think Jeno’s jokes are funny. As lunch finishes up, the school bell reverberates through the cafeteria walls- a signal for the next class period.

The next class is statistics with Mr. Midas. Out of the group, Mark and Jaemin are the only ones in the same class as you but it doesn’t help that they’re seated as farway as possible. On the bright side, you’re seated next to Chan, one of Mark’s basketball teammates. Over the course of the year, Chan has always been a kind deskmate by helping you when you’re confused with a problem or sharing his study guide with you. Sometimes you notice he scoots closer to explain a formula and asks you if you’re uncomfortable with his sudden closeness, to which to his relief, you always reply no. Chan is just as handsome as Mark, someone well regarded in the school. No one could resist his flirty charm, the way his chestnut hair curls to one side of his forehead and the way his hoodie falls past his waist a bit. You discover how Chan is really passionate about producing music and running your high school’s channel as a radio dj. When Chan smiles, it makes you happy to see how his eyes crinkle into crescent moons, and how his teeth gleam white when he smiles about the flower you drew him at the corner of his notes.

“Are you doing okay, y/n?”

You give a reassuring nod, “I’m doing okay Chan. Thanks for asking.”

He quirks up his brow, a scar slashing it at the end, “You don’t look okay though. Listen, if you don’t want talk about it, you’re all good, I just-”

Pausing him with the hold of your hand, you continue, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk about it.”

He gives you affirmation, you say, “Have you ever felt unrequited love?”

Chan shakes his head no, leaning back in his chair, “Maybe when I was younger but not now? I’m truly sorry y/n. Whoever it is, anyone who doesn’t see how funny and beautiful you are doesn’t deserve you period.”

You hold your tongue for a bit due to the fact of Chan’s comment catching you off guard. Freezing, he realizes the bluntness of his words, “Oh man, you just said unrequited love and I biffed it right? I didn’t mean it that way-no, wait. You are funny and very pretty so, uh-yeah.”

Bursting into laughter, you put a hand to your mouth causing Cassandra and Mark to look at you from across the room. Soon enough, you tear your eyes away from the students staring at you to focus your attention on Chan. He’s laughing too, his voice full of brightness and mirth. You respond, a light cloud of pink floating your cheeks, the room feeling a bit warmer, “I really appreciate that Chan. Thank you for making me smile today.”

A smirk graces Chan’s face as he says, “Happy to do it, whenever you want really.”

Statistics goes by extremely quickly when you’re sitting next to Chan- it’s like he’s telling you a couple of jokes and then it’s over. As the bell rings, Chan nudges you with his elbow as he packs up his bag, “So, I uh-this friday, we’re having our championship game and this party after? I was wondering if you want to come?”

You hesitate, thinking you might have plans with Mark, yet you decide he would probably hang out with his girlfriend over you anyway.

“I’d love to come. On one condition.”

Chan raises his eyebrows, “And what’s that?”

“You have to win the game.”

Chan throws up his hands almost hitting you in the process, “Well, duh! I’m not going to let you down, I promise.”

Friday

For the past couple days, you haven't heard from Mark. No texts, no calls, and no plans out in the city. You were hurt that the boy you’d call your best friend would ignore you just because he got a new girlfriend, your years of friendship overlooked just like that. When Friday rolls around, you attend the Everlane versus Brisbane championship basketball game. You decide that you’re there to cheer on Chan, the boy who’s taller than the rest, his purple jersey hanging against his muscular frame. You spot Cassandra giving Mark a kiss on his cheek on the court, you have to look away at the sight. By the next hour or so, you’re surprised at how long Chenle, Jisung, and Jaemin have been screaming. Each of them held a poster for each Hyuck, Jeno, and Mark- their jersey numbers adorned with dollar store glitter and messy handwriting. When Mark makes a slam dunk in the basket, the crowd goes ear-deafeningly wild, cheering out Mark’s name like a repeated mantra. Shortly after, Hyuck makes an attempt to pass the basketball to Mark; the ball missing Mark’s hands before Chan dribbles it to their opponent’s basket. The cheerleaders dance to the thrum of the crowd screaming Chan’s name over Mark’s, causing Mark to grit his teeth with irritation. For a while, the back and forth of swaying bodies goes on until the Everlane team makes the last shot before the final countdown. When Jeno makes the last point, you’re certain you’ve lost your hearing by then. The cheers ring in the gym, causing the alarm to blare with victory. After everyone exits the gym, you see Mark, Chan, and Jeno being tossed into the air in a sea of fellow players and short-skirted girls as pompoms explode upwards. You decide to wait with Chenle, Jisung, and Jaemin in the empty parking lot, waiting for Renjun to pull his car around. Jeno and Hyuck jog to you all first, their basketball duffels hanging from their hands, bodies are drenched with sweat. Chenle says, “That’s some fine work out there gentleman if I do say so myself.” Hyuck does his signature handshake with Chenle, a reckless grin smeared across his face, “I knew we’d win. Brisbane can’t take down the undefeated.”

Jeno gives him a firm nod, slinging his arm around a pleased Jaemin. You smile at the boys, “Congratulations guys, you all killed it on the court.”

Hyuck and Jeno smash you in a sweaty hug, “Aw, thanks y/n. You did well cheering for us.”

You laugh, “Get off, you guys are sweaty!”

Before Hyuck can smear his sweat onto your shoulder playfully, a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Y/n!”

It’s Chan. A damp towel hangs off his neck, his nike headband wrapping his forehead under his bangs. “You ready to go?”

You shout, “Just give me a second!”

Hyuck and Jeno give you a knowing look, “Where are you going with Chan?”

You reply, “Oh, we’re just carpooling to the party at Felix’s house.”

Renjun asks, “Also, where’s Mark?”

Hyuck shakes his head in contempt, “He’s heading to the party with Cassandra.”

Jaemin mutters, “Of course he is.”

Of course he would. Mark is one of the captains on the team, why would he be excluded from the after-party? The ache in your heart pings again, you feel sick from the thought of Mark making out with Cassnadra at some gross party. You wouldn’t be able to handle the tears. Though, Chan had invited you, not Mark- who he didn’t even mention it to you, the least you could do is be courteous. What kind of person gets invited to something and cancels so last minute?

You say, “You guys get to the party and I’ll meet you there, okay?”

Renjun’s eyes crease his concern, “You do know that Mark and Cassandra will be there though right?”

You nod, “Yes. But we won’t mind them, let’s just go have fun tonight.”

After parting, you jog over to Chan who’s tossing his duffel into the trunk of his silver Lexus, his hair damp from the game. He turns to you, grinning, “you ready?”

You smile at him, telling him yes before launching yourself into the passenger seat. Chan turns the ignition, his car interior smelling like cherries from the air freshener that hangs above his head. As Chan drives, the street lamps glow on the side of the road as the moon peeks between the rainy clouds. He rolls your window down, your skin shivering at the cold chill of the night. “So, there was something I wanted to ask you?”

Turning to him, you face the chestnut-haired boy, “You remember stats class a few days ago?”

You reply, “I do?”

“Mark was looking at you the whole time. When you guys hadn’t texted in several days, he asked me if you and I were a thing during practice.”

You quirk your brows up in surprise, “And what did you say?”

Chan smiles to himself, letting out a breathy chuckle, “I said no. But, I was definitely interested.”

You allow yourself to feel nice, to feel like Chan likes you for who you are around him. Chuckling at him, you flip your hair in a sassy manner, “Well, I’ll definitely keep that noted.”

When you arrive at the party, the small two-story house looks like a sight straight out of one of those coming of age movies. The small house is jam packed with people, some hanging out on the lawn as they sip their drinks as music shakes the walls. You spot Renjun’s car from the side of your eye, meaning that your friends had gotten there before you and Chan. Upon entering the house, it’s like a warzone within it. Some people are peacefully talking by the lounge area as they feast on snacks. Some are in the kitchen mixing a plethora of colorful drinks together while also playing a form of beer pong. Girls run up and down the stairs with their friends, some with boys trailing behind them with a trance in their eyes. Some are grinding on each other on the dance floor, sensual music thrumming at the source of the boombox.

The first thing you see are your friends sitting in the corner by the backyard door, Mark on the loveseat with Cassandra practically on his lap. You instinctively grab Chan’s hand so you don’t break down right there. He gives you a surprised glance, “y/n? What’s wrong?”

Instantly, you let go of his hand as you cast your eyes down towards the floor. When you don’t answer, he sees a view of your friends laughing along with Mark and Cassandra. You feel a large hand cover yours which causes you to look up at Chan, “It’s okay y/n. Just stick with me.”

You nod, leading him to the drink table in the kitchen. When he leans down to sniff a large bowl full of sour juices and cubes of fruit, his nose scrunches in disgust, “ugh, jungle juice.”

Out of random courage, you swipe an empty cup from the tower as you shove the metal ladle of jungle juice into it. Downing it despite Chan’s protest, you feel a surge of electricity light your lungs on fire as the beat of your heart quickens from the liquid courage. He laughs, keeping his hand on the small of your back, “You surely make reckless decisions when you’re bothered by something.”

You giggle back at him, “You drink something too, you’re a winner tonight after all.” Chan reaches from a glittery purple bowl that pops with bubbles, “a toast to that, y/n. A toast to that.”

before he downs the liquid in one go. You feel his body jolt from the energy too, a smirk plastered on his face, “Wanna go play a game with some of the boys? Only if you want to, we can talk upstairs too.”

Shaking your head in refusal, you hang on to Chan’s shoulder, “Let’s go have fun.”

Chan grabs your hand, his metal chain bracelet cool on your wrist as he leads you past your friends, Mark, and Cassandra before opening the backyard door. Mark moves Cassandra off his lap, her eyes as cold as ice before she angrily gets up to get another drink. The rest of your friends sit in their circle in awe, glancing down at Chan’s hand enclosed on top of yours. Coolly waving to them, you say, “I’m outside if you need me.” before you meet eyes with Mark- his lips pressed into a frown, his irises shot with hurt. You ignore the ache that grows on the wall of your heart. You tell yourself, Mark’s ignored you all this time because he doesn’t feel the same way and never will. After being outside on the patio for a while, you meet some of Chan’s radio-club friends as all of you play a game of sorry. For a moment, Mark and the others aren’t on your mind, just the fact that Chan is pulling you into an enthusiastic hug after winning a round. You turn to Chan, “Hey, I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom.”

Chan smiles at you before he presses a lingering kiss to the crown of his head, “Sure thing. I’ll be here.”

You’re not even surprised that Chan kisses you, whether or not it’s the alcohol, you don’t mind it. When you head back into the house, you feel an arm grab your wrist and spin you around. Your friends are still sitting where they had when you passed them except Mark is the one boring his eyes into yours as he grabs your shoulders, “We need to talk now.”

Before you can say no, he pulls you to the quieter part of the kitchen, you say with bitterness, “What do you want Mark? I have someone waiting for me.”

Left without any patience, Mark lets out a huff, “Are you and Chan together?”

You sigh, casting your glance at him, “Seriously? It’s none of your business. Second, it’s not like you told me that you were with Cassandra.”

Mark uses his hand to comb back his black hair, making it even more messy, “Y/n. That’s because we’re not together, it’s just complicated and I haven’t had the time to tell you why or how we-”

“Stop right there. You ignored me for days Mark! You never texted or called! What was I supposed to do? Pine after you when you’re chasing Cassandra around?”

Mark’s doe eyes flash with pain, his hand tightening around the sides of your arms, “No! That’s not it! I didn’t mean it that way, I’m just trying to figure out what to do..” You shove Mark off you, his hands sliding off your arms, “Well save it. I’m done with you playing around with my feelings!”

Mark calls after you, tears streaming down your face as you try to make your way to the bathroom without being stared at. It takes all three minutes of some Chris Brown song for you to stop heaving. You feel sick to your stomach, so much for a fun night. You text Chan to meet you outside in front of the house, avoiding the corner your friends were comforting Mark at. Chan finds you leaning against his car, “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Giving him the only smile you can muster, you explain, “Listen, I’m so sorry. You invited me to this party and I just-I’m here being a cry-baby and everything. I’m just going to walk home now. I’m sorry.”

Chan shakes his head in definite refusal, “Nonsense. I’m driving you home. I’m about done anyway.”

You ask hesitantly, “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

The night drive back to your neighborhood gives you peace of mind. Chan rolls all the windows down as soft music plays from his radio, slowing the bounce of your heartbeat. He’s got one hand on the wheel and one hand rested on yours by your knee, you feel comfortable with Chan. It’s the same feeling that flutters in your stomach when you’re close to Mark and right now, you hate the thought of the black-haired boy that consumes so many of your thoughts. Before Chan’s tires screech to a stop in front of your porch, he turns to you with concerned eyes, lips pressed into a pout. “Come here, y/n.”

You waste no time collapsing into the space on his wide chest, his hands stroking your hair down. Resting his chin on your head, you close your eyes to the rhythmic beat of Chan’s heart as the soft patter of the rain is enough to drift you to sleep. You pull away from his chest, looking up at the shadows in Chan’s eyes, his hair falling near his eye-lids while he glances at your lips before looking down to his lap. He says apologetically, “I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to take advantage of your feelings right now. I’m really not-”

You cut him off with your hand pressed to the curve of his cheek, “Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t waste time to grip the back of your neck, kissing you harshly as he bites the bottom of your lip. You sigh into him, fisting the fabric of his jacket when he moves in even closer to twist a hair behind your ear. When you detach from him, you can’t control the burst of tears that shakes your body. The alcohol blurs the vision of Mark and Chan together as your mind throbs from the effect, leaving you dizzy. You apologize to Chan over and over again, wiping the tears that fall from your eyes. Instead, he kisses his lips to the side of your temple as he urges you to get some sleep. Like the gentleman he is, he walks you to the front door, draping his basketball jacket over your shoulders. Your home is dark- due to the fact that your parents are out of town on a business trip in Toronto so you just flop onto your bed in defeat. Mark’s ringtones shoot off from your phone, notifications of several apology texts and missed calls. Not wanting to check any of them, you toss your cell phone into the grey trash bin that sits by your desk. Going to sleep feels especially difficult when alcohol still surges through your veins and you can’t control the sobs that erupt from your throat. You hear Mark’s car pull up on his driveway, not wanting to see him whatsoever. On your bed, you almost feel him looking up at your window to check if you’re awake- for once, you’re glad it’s curtains are securely shut.

The next few weeks are pretty miserable besides the fact that you’re getting closer to Chan. You don’t acknowledge Mark’s presence anymore. By Hyuck and Jaemin, you’re told he comes by to the lunch table to check if you’re there. You still hang out with your friends separately rather than in your usual group- the web that connects you slowly falling apart. It’s difficult when you have art with Hyuck and Renjun, stats with Jaemin, and ceramics with Jisung, Chenle, and Jeno- as you try to take paths opposite of Mark at the same time. Later on, you explain everything that’s been going on between you and Mark to Chan. He takes it surprisingly well by comforting you and listening to your anger, how he’s willing to let you heal before you two start anything. How could Chan be so patient with you? He says it’s because he really likes you and would rather be there for you as a friend first. When you get home, your parents give you a lecture about starting things with Mark, how they want to have dinner with his family but can’t. Of course, they feel sorry once you explain to them what really happened.

Now, the weather outside seems a lot sunnier, yellow pollen from the peonies float in the air as you make your way out of the double doors. The time is nearing for spring break- a well needed barrier from Mark, from everything. Before you walk your way home, you’re stopped by Hyuck and Renjun. Renjun holds an envelope in his hands before giving it to Hyuck, both of them trapping you, “Y/n. We’ve been looking all over for you.”

You say, “I’m going home now, can we talk tomorrow?”

Hyuck narrows his eyes at me with contempt, “No, of course not. Just hear us out.”

Renjun speaks up too, “Do you have plans for spring break? I’m assuming you don’t because you mentioned a few weeks ago that you didn’t. We’ve got 8 tickets to Victoria island.”

You reply, “And.. your point is?”

Hyuck crosses his arms, rolling his eyes, “The point is to make up. Our group is in shambles because of all this lovesick drama. A trip is a perfect opportunity to mend things.”

Laughing, you cackle at his suggestion, “If you expect me to go then that’s hilarious. I’m not going.”

Hyuck throws up his hands in frustration. “How can you kick it if you don’t even know what will happen?”

Raising your eyebrows defiantly, “Do you remember what happened when Mark and I were in the same room? Hyuck, it’s not happening.”

Renjun grumbles, flicking the envelope in my face, “Fine! We won’t invite Mark then! We just want you to come with us and then we’ll see what happens from there okay?”

Hyuck socks Renjun in the shoulder with a fist before shouting, “How can we not ask Mark?”

In response, Renjun shoots a frigid glare at Hyuck as if he’s threatening him with his eyes, “We’re just not going to ask him! Y/n, will you come?”

You pause for a moment as you stare back at the pair. You raise your voice to make yourself crystal clear, “I will only go if Mark doesn’t. Simple as that.”

Renjun bobs his head in agreement, “Deal. No Mark.”

When you walk away, you still hear Hyuck berating Renjun for his decision only to be shut up by some snarky comment that comes through Renjun’s lips. The sound of their voices falling away.

First day of spring break

By the time spring break begins, you find yourself standing in front of Renjun’s van with your suitcase packed full of your things. You’re greeted by Renjun, Hyuck, Jaemin, and Jeno first. Of course, Jisung and Chenle are seen scampering across the school parking lot with their duffel bags messily unzipped, some shirts hanging out of the top.

“Didn’t I tell you to pack the night before?” Renjun scoffs at the pair.

Chenle pokes his tongue at the older boy, wrapping his arm around Jisung’s broad shoulders. Jeno holds his hands up in the air before bellowing, “shot-gun!” straight into Hyuck’s ear- causing Hyuck to throw a whiny fit. Once our suitcases are in the back of Renjun’s car, he leans on the side of his van as if he’s waiting for something. Jaemin says, “Okay, isn’t that all? Why aren’t you closing it?”

Renjun has a wicked grin plastered all over his face, “Not everything and not certainly everyone.”

You all turn to face Mark, circles under his eyes, his hair unruly as if he hasn’t gotten sleep in 3 whole weeks. Shoot a menacing face at Renjun, you whisper at him, “You told me Mark wasn’t coming.”

Renjun gives you an evil, sinister smile, “I crossed my fingers behind my back.”

Having the extreme urge to strangle Renjun on the spot, you ponder about Renjun’s extreme lengths to reach his goal of making up. Before you can walk away from the car, Hyuck drags your hand back to the door of the van, “Ah-ah- y/n. You’re not going anywhere.”

The whole car ride to the ferry is awkwardly silent due to the fact you’re mercilessly squished between Hyuck and Mark. Personal boundaries don’t exist in the car, your legs are practically on top of each other as Mark steals side glances at you from the corner. Getting to the dock port seemed less stressful than you’d imagine it to be. Renjun had parked his van at the base garage of the ferry before unloading everyone's belongings.

Just as easy as it was to get on to the boat, it was easy getting off too. You’d make your way down to Renjun’s car, Renjun driving it down a ramp and into the pathway that opened into Victoria island. You have to admit to yourself, Victoria island looked even more gorgeous than you had remembered last time you came with your family. During springtime, all the beautiful flowers in Butchart gardens would bloom pinks and purples, the greenery would turn a lush, healthy evergreen, and the city would stay lit for the tourists. It was the perfect place to have a vacation, one with friends at that. Jaemin and Renjun booked a small cottage house for everyone to stay in, one straight out of a fairy tale storybook. The cottage ceiling looked like it was made with hay and lime-green vines, beams of cedar-wood reinforced the walls of the structure. It had a white picket fence that surrounded a small rose garden near the entrance; white lilies floating in an old, peeling fountain. Finally entering the house, you were amazed by the impeccable interior:various paintings of Victoria island, a kitchen that was big enough to seat 10, and bedrooms slacked with ivory/gold wallpaper. Like ants scattering into their units, the boys jumped on their beds that they ‘claimed’ while you and Mark stood in the middle of the hallway. Watching all of them make a clamorous reaction over who got the best room was like watching families seize their buttons during family feud. By observing them, you’ve come to realize that there were only 7 rooms instead of 8. Realizing this, you glance over at Mark who was in turn staring back at you before racing towards the end of the hall- flying to the surface of the bed. Both of you landed on it at the exact same time, faces extremely close together. Hastily, you sit up in an attempt to push Mark off the bed that you claimed first, “Mark Lee, get off my bed now!”

He incredulously stares back at you, “Your bed? This is mine!”

You exclaim, “You’re trying to take my bed now? I clearly jumped on it first!”

“No, you didn’t!”

Bickering back at forth, you and Mark don’t even realize the rest of the boys practically flailing in the doorway, Hyuck saying in a sing-songy voice, “Or.. you could shareee!”

In unison, you and Mark shout, “Hell no!”

You get up first, shoving a pillow at Mark, “Fine, you have it! I’ll room with Hyuck.”

Hyuck clicks his tongue, “Oh no you’re not, y/n. Nada. No bueno.”

Before you can argue with Hyuck or chase him out of the room for that matter, you hear Mark speak up from behind. His voice is shy and quiet, his face a shade of beet red, “You just take the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

You turn to face him as you’re about to reprimand him for such a stupid idea until you realize that it’s probably the best decision to make at the moment.

After dinner that night, everyone had settled into their respective rooms. You had changed into a hoodie and sweatpants after you had showered. You sat on your bed, texting Chan goodnight before shutting it off to charge on your nightstand. Mark had stumbled into your shared room with one pillow and a thin fabric cover-(hardly a blanket) before setting it down on the carpet. Seeing Mark in this state, it reminds you of the old days. The way that his headphones sat comfortably on his ears, his black hair matted with drops of water, and his toned frame covered with black pants and a black tee. The hollows of his cheeks make his face more prominent, his lips the color of a strawberry slice. In one swift motion, he wraps the thin cover around his body before turning on his side, “Good night, y/n.”

Unable to say anything, you shut off the lamp- casting darkness all around you. “Good night, Mark.”

You almost forget that Mark’s there in the room with you until you hear the tick of his teeth chattering and the breathy huffs from how cold it is. You sit up to take a look at his shaking figure, the thin material doing no justice as a blanket. You believe that the air bnb manager hadn’t put extra blankets or control instructions for the ac system as you had all looked for them earlier. Deciding to wrap one of the thicker blankets that’s draped over your legs, you almost trip towards Mark’s shuddering body before patting it against him. Before you turn to go back to your bed, you feel a hand curl around your fingers, Mark slightly opening his half-lidded eyes at you. “y/n?”

Pausing, you touch your hand to Mark’s cheek, “Mark, you’re freezing. You should have told me, this blanket cover isn’t any better than a piece of paper.”

Mark shifts his body closer to face you now, his hands still wrapped around yours, “i-i didn’t know.”

“Do you want more of my blankets? I’m kind of used to the cold.”

Mark says, “No, if I take them, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Mark, I’m fine, really.” You insist on letting you help him, the boy shivering from the icy temperature.

His eyes become stern, his muscles stiffening, “y/n, I said no!”

Pausing, retract your hand from Mark’s as the warmth slowly is replaced with cold air. You give him a gentle nod this time, “I-okay.” Mark sits up from his place, fingers running through his messy hair, an earbud still plugged into his left ear, “What I mean is, I don’t want you to get sick. It’d be my fault.”

Instead, you walk back to your spot on your bed, “Look, don’t take this the wrong way but, you can come warm up for a little. Just before you go back to sleep, I promise- I won’t touch you.”

In the dark, Mark’s eyes glint like swirling, black orbs as he nods at you, getting up to take a spot next to you on the bed. He leans back into the pillow by your head, the coolness of it feeling like a cold cloud. Sighing with content, he submerges his body under the warmth of the comforter, careful not to over step his boundaries with you. When Mark lies next to you, you can seem to shut your eyes. Instead, your heart beats out of your chest when you hear Mark whisper. “y/n?”

“Yes, Mark?”

He says with a heavy heart, “I miss us.”

Propping my elbow on your pillow, you turn to face him, “I miss you.”

You choke on your words, your head throbbing with dizziness when you realize what you had just admitted to Mark. You seem visibly gulp, his eyes tracing the crease where the flowery wallpaper meets the ceiling. His voice comes out shaky, “y/n..I-I like you.”

Mark’s earbud sings the words of a beautiful, familiar tune:

Said I never fall, i’d never fall and then I fell for you mhm

Back against the wall, against the wall, and against the wall, that’s how it felt with you mhm

When those words fall from Mark’s lips, all the oxygen from your lungs makes an exit and threatens to not come back in- you’re left stunned. Mark turns his face to you to see your reaction and you stare back at him, eyes widened. Before you have the chance to say anything, Mark presses his lips to yours, rising from the pillow as his nose knocks against yours lightly. You find yourself kissing him back, harder than when you kissed Chan the night of the party. The kiss is full of yearning, almost full of struggling sadness to trap the right feelings- Mark’s hand snakes a hand around your jaw in order to stabilize you. He keeps kissing you aggressively, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as his tongue swipes your bottom lip. You pull away first, fire thrumming in your lungs as you place your hand on his chest, “Mark, you have a girlfriend. We can’t.”

Mark shakes his head slightly, “I’m not dating Cassandra.”

You make a face at him, “What do you mean? Because if I’m a rebound, I don’t want to be.”

Mark chuckles, a smirk snaking on his swollen lips, “Trust me, you’re not a rebound. And, I meant what I said about liking you.”

“Mark, you can’t just tell me you like me and then kiss me like nothing’s happened. I saw you and Cassandra with my own eyes.”

Mark sighs before gazing back at you with his obsidian-colored eyes, his skin glowing from the moon that shines slightly through the window curtains, “I’ve liked you since the day you brought those muffins to my house. I thought you would never see me as more as a friend and I tried to use Cassandra to get over you. I never wanted to burden you if you didn't feel the same. Clearly, it didn’t work. Not even partially. I’m sorry.”

You press your forehead against Mark’s, pressing a lingering kiss to the shape of his lips as you use one hand to pull the hairs on Mark’s nape- causing him to groan before reciprocating.

You whisper to him, a beautiful sound to his ears, “Why are we so difficult? We’re such idiots.”

Placing your head on Mark’s chest, both of you collapse on to the bed, sleep washing over your minds. You hear Mark giggle before putting his right ear bud into your ear, the sound of a man’s voice humming:

One weekend in Portland, you weren’t even my girlfriend

We were walkin’ and talkin’

Then somebody said.. let's get tattoos together, something to remember

If it’s way too soon, fuck it, whatever

Give me shapes and letters

If it’s not forever, then at least we’ll have tattoos together

Mmm, ‘cause I love you

When you wake up the next morning, you and Mark are greeted by Jaemin and Renjun cooking breakfast in the kitchen as Jeno, Hyuck, and Chenle play mario kart on the old television in the living room. Jisung is setting the table with eating utensils while also stopping to look at his Nintendo switch every few seconds. Aside from reddened faces and teasing, the boys had already suspected of your making-up based on the blush that coats both of your faces. That afternoon, you call Chan on the phone through facetime, letting him know that you and Mark had made up. Chan tells him how happy he is to hear it, telling you that he’s always known how much Mark had liked you and that he didn’t hold a candle to how Mark would talk about you to the basketball team. You apologize out of worry that you’ve hurt Chan but like the gentleman he is, he tells you that you’ll always be good friends especially when he’s good friends with Mark.

The next few days are like dreams. Together, you, Mark, and the boys go gallivanting across Victoria island through the sea towns made of floating boathouses and seafood restaurants. You bring your polaroid camera with you, capturing memories of Hyuck dropping his ice cream, selfies with Jeno and Jaemin, and seagulls chasing Renjun- all in a few frames. Even one morning, all of you had the spontaneous but rather, stupid decision to get matching commemorative tattoos, each of them a different flower on your wrists to commemorate your friendship. Each afternoon meant picnics at the Goldmere Provincial Park or whale watching tours out on the cobalt waters that were foaming with white. Other days you’d all visit the aviation museum or opt to sample the best chocolate fudge at Roger’s after a small hike.

On the last night of your trip, Mark had made sure that he wanted to take you down Tiffany avenue before meeting up with the boys for dinner. He’d told you to dress nicely in which you all did, leading you by the hand down the shopping street as your tulle skirt wavered behind you. When the both of you came to a balcony that overlooked the water, the ocean looked so vast like it could swallow you into the great swirls of turquoise and aquamarine as white ocean spray crashed on the sharp rocks. The sky turned a lavender shade that bloomed into a twilight pink, the sun barely touching the tips of the mountains. Mark had placed an item in your hand from his pocket, a pair of cherry earrings he had bought in a souvenir shop when you weren’t looking. It reminded you of the song on Mark’s playlist from several nights before:

Yeah, your cherry earrings are my favorite

It looks so good I had to save it

I’ve been hopin’, prayin’ we last forever

‘Cause there’s nothing better than you and I

A week ago, you told Renjun that in any circumstance, you would never go anywhere if it reminded you of your feelings for Mark, of your friends, of everything that had happened. Now, you’re glad to be able to let go, you’re able to feel the cold wind on the cliffs- Mark right by your side. Being wrapped up in the tight security of your boyfriend’s arms, (yes, Mark had asked for real this time) along with your best friends, you’re careful to not let go of them now. There’s no place that you’d rather be.

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