#did the pink blind you so much you couldn't see past it. did you american psycho this shit again dhdgdgdhd | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miss-kittys-magical-library · 3 years

Text

You Are My Sunshine

From the MoonBrella Academy

Warnings: some angst and fluff A/N: Honey and Leon are left with the aftermath of Klaus's decision to tear apart another timeline by rescuing his infant self from the same childhood he endured at the hand's of The Monocle. Selina, though, couldn't be any more delighted.

Part 1 Sweet Child O Mine

Honey stood full of bewilderment in the middle of the living room. The flash of blue light temporarily blinded her making the 27 year old lose her bearings. She stumbled, caught herself and clutched the bundle to her chest out of instinct. It began to cry.

The young mother remembered herself then. In her daze, she had proffered a pinky finger to the infant. He accepted and sucked on it hungrily for only a few moments.

Honey knew in her very soul that the man from the portal, the man from outside the abortion clinic in 1968 and the man in the FBI posters from 1963 were one and the same. That he and this baby she cradled and Leon were identical but not. His name was Klaus. Nicklaus. Sunny. Their Sunny. He came from her. From Leon. WAS Leon. She saw that in his eyes. His cheeks. That all too brief gummy smile when Klaus had reluctantly handed the baby over.

Annoyed with only a finger to suck on, the baby started to wail. Not cry. A bone rattling scream that Honey never once heard from Selina. She stared at the little boy who had freed an arm to tug on his ear. He moved into a full-bodied tremble while his lip quivered.

“Shhh,” Honey cooed. She swayed back and forth to soothe the screaming child. “You know when Leon gets upset, his lip does that too?” She used her index finger to wiggle Sunny’s as a distraction.

He inhaled with a violent shudder. Wild green eyes locked with Honey’s before he cried at the top of his lungs once more. His eyes never leave hers except occasionally to gaze downwards over her chest. She knew Sunny was starving as the tears spilled down her own face. There weren't any bottles or formula or anything for him available. Selina never used one anyway. She went from the tit to the sippy cup.

Now he curled his little fingers around the muslin of Honey’s shirt. She cocked an eyebrow as he tugged trying to free her breast from its covering.

“Cheeky little pervert! You must be Leon?” she giggled and separated Sunny’s fingers from her shirt. The little boy screamed again this time louder. He yanked at her and wailed like a banshee. Honey covered her ear with one hand, “Jesus! You'll wake the dead!!”

Almost on cue, Sunny's tiny fist balled tight around Honey’s shirt began to glow. It shined a brilliant blue that matched the portal Klaus had stepped through. Because she wasn't offering her breast to him, the little one shoved his free hand into his mouth. It shone with the same light.

“What in Saint Jude?” Honey used her fingertip to spread his little fist open. She traced her nail along his now opened palm, fascinated. “This is beautiful..”

“Hey Gracie.”

There was a voice behind Honey. One she knew but hadn't heard. That thick Brooklyn accent. The scent of whiskey and cigarettes. The tears threatened to spill down her cheeks as she turned to look. To see her Uncle Lenny that she missed every day. That she longed to talk to about her life. But Sunny went back to his screaming, and Honey knew Lenny was gone.

“I CAN'T FEED YOU! I WASN'T PREGNANT WITH YOU SO I'M NOT EQUIPPED. PLEASE STOP CRYING! I'M SORRY HE TOOK YOU AWAY FROM A VERSION OF ME WHO COULD PROVIDE FOR YOU!”

Honey began to weep now. She felt helpless. Disconnected from the infant she rocked gently without thought. As if a tiny part of her brain that beat her down and told her she failed Selina. There was a reason the little girl preferred Leon to her. That Honey just wasn't good enough.

Now here she was unable to do the simplest thing, calm a crying infant. Her big fat tears poured onto Sunny’s face, and his crying ceased immediately. He blinked those indescribable eyes a few times before inhaling as deep as his little lungs could manage. She braced herself for another brain piercing howl. Instead he exhaled a coo wrapped up in a smile while staring directly in his new mother’s own eyes.

And there it started, a tether from Honey’s heart to the little boy’s. He tangled his fingers around her hair that brushed over his cheeks as she started to laugh. It trickled down to Sunny and through him. He responded with giggles that lit a fire in Honey’s chest. Quite literally.

Her breast and nipple felt like they were ablaze. She winced and gasped at the pain before taking one in her hand and held it tightly. The searing took her breath away before it spilled out on to her grip in the form of liquid. Honey's breast started leaking.

Without thought or hesitation she freed herself, finally, from her top. Sunny’s eyes became a bright green the moment he saw her offered breast and latched on. He sucked hungrily, little eyes rolling back in his head as he tightened his grip on Honey's hair. The baby opened and closed his fist as he ate. Honey hummed.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray,” she sang and swayed as if she were dancing with the baby. “You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away.” Honey bent to kiss Sunny’s forehead. He heaved one more great sigh and fell asleep.

The clock on their mantle struck 3pm, and Honey panicked. Selina’s dance class.

-------

Honey slipped past the other parents to the empty seat Leon had saved between himself and Tom and Ella. Her giant suede purse slung around her body more like a satchel. She sat down rather gingerly, greeted the Kidmans and let her long hair fall loose from under her beret. She smiled at her husband, all flushed cheeks and bright brown eyes.

From Leon’s angle as he kissed her hello it looked like a babydoll sticking out of her bag. Instead, to his shock, Honey carefully pulled a human baby from inside bundled up to its large eyes. Familiar ones that held Leon's gaze as she unzipped the little winter jacket that had been Selina’s.

Honey removed the tiny tossle cap. Underneath it was a baby boy (as beautiful as Selina) who released a satisfying coo. Then the little one turned to reach for Leon; to Honey’s dismay, he recoiled. She sniffed her displeasure while Sunny dove face first into her chest. Not for a breast, but simply a snuggle.

“The least you could do is hold him,” Honey’s tone was icy as she faced forward.

She caught her daughter’s eye from across the room and they waved at each other with enthusiasm. Selina pointed with sheer delight at the bundle in her mommy’s lap. Honey nodded and made the baby wave at his sister who bounced around in her tutu before the teacher took her hand and gently guided Selina back in line. Honey mouthed she was sorry.

"I'm just trying to figure out why my missus has got a baby that she wasn't pregnant with a few hours ago? Care to explain, love?”

Leon’s eyes were filled with worry as he looked at Honey. The tone of his voice was more tender than accusatory as he took one of her hands and squeezed it. Honey melted as she often did when it came to Leon's touch.

"A magical door opened up in our living room and that fake American cousin of yours, you know the one from the abortion,” she whispered this, “clinic?” Honey took a breath before continuing, “And I'm pretty sure he is our son from the future. He was in those FBI posters too. Back when we turned ourselves in. Anyways, he said his name was Klaus? Nicklaus. Nicklaus, Leon. He said well, this is ALSO our kid,” she presented the baby to Leon again, “from the future."

“I think you need to stop taking that blooming fertility concoction my mum and aunts made for you in Greece last summer. It's doing your head in because you sound like a bleeding nutter.”

"Leon, he’s our Sunny. Just like you predicted. You believed me then. I promise. Just hold him. Believe me again, please?” Honey pleaded with her husband.

“I quit drugs cold, and you've gone barmy. Then nicked some poor punter’s baby.” Anyone could tell Leon didn't even swallow one word spoken just now.

"First off, that concoction is cinnamon, honey, nettles and primrose oil. Nothing with drug properties. You're the one on maca, tribulus fruit and asparagus. Suck your own cock and see how it tastes." Honey stuck her chin out in defiance.

Tom choked on the cigar he was smoking. Meanwhile a knowing smile crossed Ella’s face. Her eyebrow raised in amusement at the direction this was headed. The Kostas couple were incredibly sexy when they argued. Honestly, they felt the same about each other.

"That's because you're not supposed to give me head, I'm supposed to put it in you. Remember that's how babies are made? Bloody hell.” Leon sighed and gave into his wife. He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. Then he held out his arms, “Fine, just give him to me for cuddle”

Honey handed Sunny over to Leon who held him aloft. The baby had his fingers in his mouth. They glowed the softest hint of blue to the elder’s fascination. Then he let his little lips drop open to reveal mostly nothing but one lone tooth poking from the bottom gum. That tiny hand shot out to clench a fistful of Leon's goatee with an excited squeal.

Honey bit her bottom lip until she was certain it was going to bleed. A giant lump in her throat made it hard to swallow as she choked back tears willing Leon to get it. To see Nicklaus. Or Klaus. Or Sunny was theirs. She tightened her grip around forearm that she didn't realize had been in her grasp.

She wasn't a woman who prayed, not usually. To a Saint here and there, but quietly now she did. She wanted to convey to her husband that her body just couldn't get pregnant again naturally for whatever reason. Honey had started to bleed heavily before she left the apartment. Another miscarriage as the baby from the future sat wrapped up in Selina’s pink snowsuit. He was a gift just like Sugar no matter where he came from.

Leon studied this little boy. His nose, oddly curved like Leon's even though that was done much later in life. Those big, color changing eyes that moved in all shades of blues and greens in a matter of moments were also Leon's. It was like he held himself in his hands.

“Lovely little muppet.” Leon’s head swam. Sunny kicked his legs a bunch of times and contorted himself so he could suck on Leon's wrist. He let out a ragged breath just as the baby had done with Honey. “γεια, η μικρή μου ηλιοφάνεια,” Leon whispered. Hello my little sunshine.

There wasn't any part of Honey in Nicklaus, not the way there was in Selina. Her mummy’s attitude and defiance and brown eyes that took in the world and sought how to knock it down and start again. Leon shut down the part of his brain screaming REPLICA!

“That sadistic Monopoly man from the FBI or CIA did this, didn't he. Reginald Hargreeves.” Leon wasn't asking Honey, he was telling. He suddenly held Sunny close to his chest. His chin rested on the little boy’s head protectively. Leon kissed his curls as he had done a million times with Sugar and his wife.

She nodded because even her bones sang with revelation. They couldn't speak further because just then Selina burst into view along with the other little girls. She sprung into the air and onto Tom's lap, not her papa’s. He grunted then smiled in his Kidman way which was unnerving to the untrained eye. The little girl patted his cheek then kissed it. Ever one to tame the savage beast.

“Mommy baked me a baby!” she cried.

“She sure did, dollface.” He wouldn’t question a thing for the rest of his life.

Now she forsook Kidman to crawl across her mummy to gawk at the baby nestled into Leon's chest. “Hello, poppet. Papa calls me that.”

Sugar wedged her finger in Sunny's grip. They considered one another with fascination. Then Sunny screamed and giggled happily before putting her finger in his mouth.

Now Selina squealed with excitement and yanked it back. They played a game of offering and sucking for a few moments before the little girl declared that Sunny belonged to her. She stuck up her chin with a look of pride and contentment with herself. With the situation.

“He's my baby. Ok?” Neither Honey nor Leon would ever argue with that.

----

Winter of 1973

Honey sat cross-legged on the floor beside the Christmas tree. Her impossibly long hair hung over her shoulder and wrapped around Sunny who sat in her lap. He absently sucked on a thumb while his free hand flexed and twisted around his mother’s thick mane. Little hands flickered their occasional blue while Honey hummed a carol under her breath.

Leon was stationed in a large comfy chair, his one foot slung over the side. His foot wobbled anxiously. A handful of old journals and papers spread out over his lap. Books that had showed up one day without a messenger. Papers Tom had smuggled out of the CIA from insiders. All leading back to the nefarious billionaire with a monocle that studied the husband and wife and claimed if they paid him in return, they would get off scot free. Even keep the cash.

Selina danced around the tree. The lights reflected off of the dress Honey had fashioned, at Leon's insistance, from the gift she made just six years ago. It matched the tiny vest Sunny now wore as he bounced and wiggled rhythmically so desperate to dance with Sugar.

“Mummy?” Selina spun in a circle and tossed garland at the tree haphazardly.

“Yes?”

“Sunny’s coming.”

“What? Coming where? He can toddle about like a drunken sailor.”

“Mummy! Not my baby brother. Big Sunny. He's coming for a visit. He looks so much like Papa, but sad.”

Honey and Leon exchanged frantic glances. The traveler, from the future. But how did Selina know? Her papa asked as much.

“Silly! Sometimes he sees us through the windows. He likes to watch you be Mummy and Papa to Sunny. That you are good to him. I saw him and he talked to me. He very much likes Mummy in a.. Daddy way? But also in a me and Sunny way. I told him be here for Christmas. Is he my Theíos? His name is Mouse. Mummy is that..”

“Topolino. His name is Klaus. Nicklaus like Sunny and Pappou. You are too little to understand, Sugar.”

Honey scooped her up too and cradled both of her children in her lap, kissing their foreheads. She looked at Leon who knitv his eyebrows in thought. Mouth agape with just the slight bit of perturbed on his lips. But a shock of wind and blue and magnetism outside the windows on the fire escape startled the Kostas parents into attention.

“HE'S HERE! TOPO IS HERE!” Selina bolted to the window which Klaus tentatively tapped on. Without permission from her parents, she let him in. She held his hand tight and dragged him to the center of the living room.

Klaus stood uncomfortably in front of Leon and Honey. His hair was as long as Honey’s and his beard to boot. He wore giant rose tinted sunglasses and a starfish necklace dangled against his bare chest. His clothes were blue and white, pants striped with it, and very.. ritualistic. Religious almost. Honey told herself he looked like Jesus had fucked George Harrison in Elton John’s closet.

“Happy Christmas?!” He held up a bottle of wine. “I came bearing a gift!”

“Ain't you a little early in The Savior’s journey to be looking like that?” Leon quipped.

“What? Oh this? I had to.. disperse an alternative lifestyle community.”

“A cult?” Honey questioned.

“A commune,” Klaus and Leon said simultaneously.

Honey shivered. “Either way,” she crossed her arms, “we've been expecting you. For two years.”

Tag: @neuroticpuppy @magic-multicolored-miracle @bisexualnathanyoung @forenschik @nightmonsters @vonkimmeren @maerenee930 @elliethesuperfruitlover @070188 @firstpersonnarrator @rob-private @messengeronthemoon @emelieislasheehan @super-unpredictable98 @frogs--are--bitches @duck-noises @the-freckled-luba @a-ghoulish-tale

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #moonbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #leon x honey

35 notes · View notes

zhxngweiascian · 3 years

Text

001 ❝ ‎ 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟑. ― 𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙻𝚒.

— He hated such pompous events, the kind that was thrown only to show off wealth and stature, the kind that felt as if it was closed off to the rest of the world and was thrown into another universe of glitz, glamour and champagne that tasted like the stars. Alexander sighed, nimble fingers finding the lapels of his already pristine suit to straighten; he could not wait to get out of it, to discard his petticoat and gloves and retire for the rest of the night. The foie gras on the saltine crackers and the one too many old fashioned had begun twisting his stomach into knots of discomfort more than the attention that flit his way from the wide and blue eyed party goers.

He stood in the corner by the table laden with amuse-bouches and piled with hors d'oeuvres, nursing his glass of champagne. He wondered where all this food went, whether if anyone really would eat or it would all simply go to waste; his heart went out for the city he lived in, adopted and made home for the span that was his temporary life. The War had ended just a mere couple of years ago but the chaos it had left in its wake was tangible enough that he could taste it on the tip of his tongue, the air rancid and filled with the aftermath of gunpowder. He disliked it. London. Where no one knows his neighbour. Where shops do not know their customers. Where physicians are suddenly called to unknown patients whom they never see again. Where you may lie dead in your house for months together unmissed and unnoticed till the gas-inspector comes to look at the meter. Where strangers are friendly and friends are casual. London, whose rather untidy and grubby bosom is the repository of so many odd secrets. Discreet, incurious and all-enfolding London. The city wasn't something he had known previously or was too familiar with- but one thing he was certain of, a part of him loved watching all of it unravel. This place hummed to the tune of debauchery. This city was filthy and deep in the thrall of unending sin, so saturated with the kiss of decadence that the sky threatened to buckle and crush all those living vivaciously beneath it in punishment.

"You're hiding away again?" a very familiar voice rang in his ear, reminiscent of the dulcet tinkles of bells and the angelic choir of church. It automatically brought a smile to his face and every single thought he had wasn't of any importance. He faced a knowing grin, one that curved into a cheeks hued a lovely pink. Rosalie Han was a sight for sore eyes in her dress the color of the midnight sky, sparkling with countless beads that sparkled and bounced back reflections when they caught the light of the chandelier. She came to a stop next to where he stood, beginning to peruse the menu displayed.

"I'm not hiding," he scoffed under his breath low enough that only she could hear; they both knew he hated being here... just like they both know that he would always indulge in her whims to go frolic with humans.

Rosalie nodded, carmine tinted mouth curved into a smirk and picked up a cream puff to hold to eye level, turning it this way and that way in an inspecting manner before she deemed it decent then proceeded to shove the entire thing in her mouth.

Alexander took a sip of his champagne, shaking his head at the woman. "By whatever war wages, not in front of your many suitors!" he exclaimed in a whisper, unable to hide his own simper as he tilted his glass briefly to the crowd as if to make his point.

"Don't tell me what to do, you oaf!" Rosalie yelled in a whisper, shooting him a murderous glance. Alexander's grin lifted further.

"The Hastings are here. So are the Parks and Chiannis. It's about time we match you with one of them, Rose. Looks like their heirs are vying for your attention." The man murmured, hiding his knowing grin behind the rim of his champagne glass, eyes raking the grande portico of the chateau where everyone of import milled about and rubbed elbows with each other.

Her gaze found his face, reflecting the thousand and one lights from the chandelier overhead despite the incredulity that swarmed in them and scoffed a sound. "So you'd have thrown me to the wolves?" she asked, lips downturned in a moue and followed his line of gaze. Alexander laughed, the sound low and reverberating in her ears that she couldn't resist but to grin too. Feigning annoyance, she grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing water, finishing half of the starry golden liquid in a quick sip.

"Frankly, I pity the wolves."

There it was, the cynical joke shared between the two long-time friends; their kinds were polar opposites but here they were, hidden in plain sight, hand in hand and with a shared history that transited time. Rosalie laughed, eliciting a low chuckle from him too; it was always fascinating how she laughed freely, drawing the attention of whoever stood close enough to catch an ear of the wonderful sound. And those who looked found it a peculiar sight, one that was uncommon to most yet, in a way, felt normal.

Alexander Li was an enigma and despite how his circle was made of those in power, there was little known about him other than he was a professor of philosophy and physics. He was tall and trim, with the build of a young man proficient in warfare even though he had not been in the war. His dark hair was straight and styled in a manner suggesting a desire for order in all things. They framed eyes so pale a shade of brown they appeared amber in certain flashes of light, like those of a tiger. His profile was an artist’s study in angles, and he remained motionless, face was set in a cool and expressionless canvas, save for when his thick eyebrows raised a fraction when an odd woman approached the pair to converse. He felt Rosalie stiffen, her dainty hand reaching to loop around his arm. He could have well imagined the curse that slipped past her lips but the woman both had been staring at was a mere foot away by then.

Evelyn Ackley jumped, unable to hide his surprise. She was the hostess of the party, the wife to a Lord who spoke little of sense and much more about himself. Her grin was wide and surprised and Alex thought that it seemed too bright to be genuine. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. For foreigners, your English is extraordinary. There is not a trace of an accent to be found."

"I have an American accent," he replied dully.

Ackley waved him off, the gaudy bracelet of diamonds she wore almost blinding him. "You know what I mean."

Do I? he wanted to say. Would I be less if I sounded like where I was from, like all those in this city who were forced to learn more than one language, unlike you? His mouth opened, the words right on his tip on his tongue when Rosalie chirped in, sounding sweet.

"No, we do not," she laughed, as if the other woman told a joke that tickled Rosalie's bones. It was a natural sound, but only those who looked closely noticed how her nimble fingers tightened around Alex's forearm. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I find the wine at this party a bit too bland." He bit into his inner cheek, refraining from making a sound of laughter.

Smoothly, Rosalie tugged on his arm with enough force that he had begun veering into the direction she led him in. He had enough time to bow at the Lady of the house, automatically falling into step with the smaller woman.

“I actually liked the wine,” he spoke after a moment, breaking the silence that had taken over.

She groaned, throwing him a side glance of disgust. “I am beyond appalled but not surprised you began losing your sense of taste.” Her chin rose so that the tip of her nose scrunched a fraction, her plump lips curved downwards into a faux remorseful pout.

He laughed goodnaturedly, his other hand reaching over to gently pat her hand that rested on his arm. It was true; he’d lived in London for about seven years now. He’d seen how the war had ebgan and lit even the smallest alleys with fires from both enemy and allies and he’d been there when it all came to an end. He’d seen it in the papers, how the new decade was called ‘the Roaring Twenties’ and wherever he went, the hedonistic lifestyle that London had adopted was an escape from the debris and chaos the war had left in its wake. He didn’t mind it; changes were bound to happen.

“Come, let’s go get some good wine,” he chuckled, veering to the left and out of the chateau that would party until past dawn.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𝐀 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.

They sat at the top of the citadel just a mere 20 minute car ride away from the party. A little brown paper bag had been torn so it laid flat on the ground where they sat and on it sat a small display of cheese, crackers and grapes that they had stolen from the festivities. Surely, a handful of hors d’oeuvres would not be missed. The sky was lit with a canvas of stars and unfortunately enough, they weren’t seen from the city, too bombarded and overwhelmed by the city lights to shine on their own. But the more you looked at them, the more they rose to the surface of the dark sky, the tinier specks beginning to gather the courage to come to light too. If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.

“Ah, I wish I could get drunk on this!” Rosalie pronounced, breaking the otherwise impeccable silence of the night and wrenching him out of his thoughts.

Alexander took a sip of his wine bottle and turned his head to look at her. “The wine finally to your taste?”

She made sure that he could see her eye roll and he laughed, placing his bottle of wine down so he could swiftly pull off his suit jacket. In the same motion, he leaned over to her, gently placing the comfortable fabric over her dainty shoulders; neither of them got cold but it was more out of habit that he did it.

Silence befell the two again, a comforting cocoon that required nothing but each other’s presence to feel comfortable. His eyes remained on her, watching how she snuggled into his jacket and preoccupied herself with the contents of her own bottle of wine.

It was a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the body of the moon but Rosalie Han, who he’d known for what felt like eternity, was ethereal in her beauty. Even when the moonlight befell her being and kissed her skin of alabaster, it seemed as if she glowed from within, matching the moon’s light with her own. Her hair had escaped from the coiffe she had donned before the party, falling down her shoulders and back in waves of ravened hues. Sooty eyelashes fluttered everytime she blinked, the rouge on her lips that was once pristine now a faded dusty shade on her lips. She had always turned head wherever she went but it was in the serenest moments like these that Alexander allowed himself to really look at her. She had never changed in all these years he’d known her yet just like him, she molded with time, embracing the lifetime of infinity she had. Before he knew it, he was staring into dark pools of obsidian, lit by the moon and had it known for the remaining of his senses that had not been affected by the alcohol, he would have fallen into them and drowned.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she mused, picking a grape from the pile to plop into her mouth.

Alexander shook his head, turning his head away from her to look off into the horizon. Far into the distance, he had begun to spot a faint line of light. Dawn would arrive soon, forcing the both of them to retire back into their lives; despite how different they were, somehow they always managed to intertwine their own paths.

“Nothing,” he chuckled, taking the last sip of his wine. If the English had done one thing right, it was to allow the French to sell their alcohol in the city.

“Say it!”

A grape hit his cheek and he scoffed as he picked it from his lap where it had fallen and bit into it, ignoring her giggles.

“Remember when we attended Tom’s and Alina’s wedding last year?” he asked, reaching for a saltine that had a dollop of cheese in the middle.

Rosalie nodded. “The wedding itself or the time we both said we would marry each other in another thousand years if we are still single by then? Are you going back on your word now, Alex?”

He tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he finished the last bit of his cracker and cheese. “I was just thinking that you shouldn’t keep your hopes up! Who knows maybe you’ll thankfully find someone and I will finally get rid of your loud self?”

It was a rare sight to watch the professor laugh, the sound natural as she hit him hard with the back of her hand before joining in his laughter as well. Who knew such a stoic man could manage such a face, so carefree that for a moment, he seemed like just a simple boy. But Rosalie Han, just like all of the versions of herself that he knew, often had that effect on him.

They sat there on the concrete floor of the citadel, munching on their snacks and sipping the last of their wines amidst childish banters and laughter the entire remainder of the night. It was only until dawn broke over the horizon, painting the skies a shell pink and a faint gold that they both made a move, going back home and broke away from the glitz and glamor that the night had left a residue on their skin.

#ascian zhang #bowang #roleplay #oc character

0 notes