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selfcareparker · 3 years

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LMAO YOU ACTUALLY PUT THE TW VIOLENCE HAHAGDSHS

so the better university is in germany.. you already live in germany.. but germans aren't good as good at english lol and lemme get this straight- UNIVERSITY IN GERMANY IS- wait shit Imaooo i read that wrong, I THOUGHT IT WAS 75¢ HDJSHS like 3 quarters😭 but that's still less expensive compared to the US, 75€ is about 90$ here... i just googled it and (apparently) college is typically around $27,000 in my state (22,588€ i think lol) but wowee gee whiz. i think waiting till you’re physically there is the best decision though, just really seeing how it is, how you like it and stuff. BUT WAIT Imao i'm rereading what you said as i'm responding, but the university sounds good!! hopefully your professor isn't the one writing the english on the website Imaoo. your english is fine hdhsjsh & why are you up at 3am😭

i'm literally jumping around udhsj but no that did absolutely make sense hahah i just really enjoy talking to you & wanted to tell you what's up lol but yay we're around the same age hdhagajs

+ yes i have !!! thank you LMAO I BET YOURE NOT THAT BAD JHDJS that whole paragraph actually made me laugh. dude i could neverrr write a script where people have to act it out? lmao it would not be pretty (though i need to work on that) well if you’re not good at acting, you’re hella good at writing (I FINISHED THE ENTIRETY OF UR PETER MASTERLIST AND I AM EMPTY & I AM SCREAMING- i’ll send in another ask on my favorites and all my replies bc WAH they had such an affect on me.......... it’s not ok. like affectttt)

HAHHAA “trash garbage” yea... she was helpful in helping me get my first lead on stage but yea that school as a whole was pretty 💩 but honestly thank youuu <3 my new favorite thing? “thump them in the eye with a sharp metal rod” i think i have one in the basement LMAO

that was a joke...... i think this will also need a tw..... but all my asks are messy lmaoo- not me missing the heritage thing in the tags: that’s so cool!! i’m guessing you’ve been the england since your mom is british? knowing two languages sounds so cool😔 and you speak really good english btw (is that rude-) OOHH so you’re german bc you were born in germany but none of your blood family is german & ur mom is british? bRO that’s so cool like literally 😎 i wanna travel so bad and the UK is first on the list (probably in two years.. i do really wanna study abroad or be a foreign exchange student or something) then Jamaica (bc that’s where my mom is from and i’ve never been) and then all the pretty countries lol

have a good day/night idk lol it took me really long to write this + idk why jdhsjshsj

- lovely anon 🥰

OKAY HI OMG (I was about to say giiirrrl but i never asked for your pronouns or anything so let me know if it’s okay if i say giiiiirl in the future lol)

I saw this at 3 am and got so excited lol but my sleeping schedule has been so awful lately that I forced myself to sleep instead of replying to this 😔

Okay so... if you put it like THAT then yes, the university in germany sounds a lot better lol. But yeah like you said I won’t fully decide until I’ve actually been to university (well, it’s online but ykwim) and that starts in april and honestly i can’t wait sksjshh but yeah i’m like 90% sure that i’ll be staying here already. And yes let’s pray that it’s not one of my professors who writes the shit on the website sishshg😭

also what you said about wanting to be a foreign exchange student or studying abroad... i felt that. but even if i end up studying in germany, with my degree, you have to either do an 8week programme (program? idk) where you go to an english speaking country,,, or you do a whole semester studying abroad so i’ll probably go to england one way or another lol and i can always do my masters in the uk (if i do a masters degree i haven’t even figured out what i’m doing this year let alone in three years loll)

Also I really have to stop saying lol so often lol

Also I have to stop saying also at the beginning of every sentence lol

Also (😔) i enjoy talking to you too 👉🏼👈🏼 you don’t know how happy i get whenever i see that you sent me an askd sjsjhshshs

And yupp i used to go to england like three times a year but because of cov*d i haven’t seen any of my english relatives since 2019🥺🥲 BUT the uk is so so so nice i love London but I also love the country side and esp the north of england 🥰🥰🥰 (that’s where most of my relatives are) and yes you deffffff need to visit one day!!!!!!!

Also (also is such a good word tho sksjsh) likeee i definitely don’t think it’s rude when people say my english is good dkdhsg so thank you 😌 but if you heard me speak english irl, i don’t have a german accent or anything and i’m 100% fluent but writing like this is different because it’s like... it’s not an essay so obviously not every sentence has to be 100% grammatically correct but i always worry that, because people know english isn’t my first language (only because i’ve told them), people think my english is bad and that i’m making mistakes when really it’s normal to just.. not use 100% grammatically correct word constructions all the time if that makes sense...? (I don’t think it does 👁👄👁 this was the worst paragraph i’ve written in my life i’m SORRY ksjshs, usually i’d delete this but i feel comfortable talking to you so even if it doesn’t make sense i’m not deleting my rantssjshsh)

And yup, speaking multiple languages is (in my opinion) one of the coolest things ever, i’m fluent in english and german, i had latin from year 7-12 so even though it’s not a language that people speak anymore, learning latin was one of the coolest experiences of my life (which sounds so lame dkshshs) because obviously in all the roman languages soo many words come from latin, so sometimes when i hear/read words in languages that i don’t even speak i can tell what it means thanks to latin. I can also kindaaaaaaaa speak/understand italian (where like 90% of words are the same as in latin or even some english and german words so i never had to study the vocabulary in school skshsh) and a liiiiiiittle tiny bit of french and serbian. I know quite a few people who speak 3+ languages because a lot of my friends are the same as me and have parents who aren’t german so they speak their dad’s language, their mum’s language AND german and it’s like the most fascinating thing in the world for me

I HAVE TO STOP TALKING NOW I’M SO SORRY WHATDKSKSJSNSMHDS

And ooohhhh my mum’s best friend is from Jamaica and my mum has allllll these beautiful pictures from when they went to jamaica together when they were younger (goals)🥺🥺🥺 so i really hope you can visit one day✨✨✨ (i wanna go to jamaica too one day sksjs but i think it’s even cooler if you’re like actually jamaican obviously and it’s linked to your heritage)

OKAY THIS IS LONGER THAN SOME OF MY FICS I AM SO SO SO SORRY SKSHSBAKSKSHSJAHAHABA but i enjoy talking to you so i shouldn’t really apologise but still like what was the point of all my rambling? Nothing basically dksjsh also I feel like i keep talking about myself but idk what to say and likeee i don’t even know, so how has your life been since covid? (That’s My attempt to ask about YOU lmao tell me whatever you want about yourself sksjsh)

Okay byeee 💖💖💖💖💖

Edit: i realised i haven’t said anything about you finishing/reading everything on my peter masterlist AHSJSKKSBSBSSBSB thank you thank you thank you, sooo i can’t promise anything but i will most likely post a new fic this weekend... but idk if it’s going to be good? I randomly started writing it last night and i definitely like the plot but i’m always so insecure about my actual writing and wording but yeah... ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#lovely anon #<3 #tw violence #who even needs to put a tw for violence on a last like this 😭😭#*post #lmaodnsjshsh i love us #okay it felt so weird when i kept writing ‘mum’ bc obv i’m british and have a british accent and everything but i don’t actually call my mum #mum #i call her mama bc it’s german (and probably sounds so weird if you’re english/american)#so i’m tempted to say mom #but really i would say neither mom nor mum so... sksjsjsjhshs #oh god i’m so sorry that you have to put up with me ahahaha ily #why am i nervous ab posting this dkdksmshs #sorry there are probably 16 sentences in this post that dont even make sense

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writingismyhappytime · 5 years

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Marry Me (Part 8)

Ricky Horror X Reader

Warnings: Language

"Are you sure something isn't wrong with Claire?" You ask after a moment, watching as Ricky packs some boxes into the back of your car, his face creased in aggravation. "Chloe says she's sick a lot, maybe she's been going to doctors appointments."

"On the weekends? That was the third time she's put Chloe off on us when she's supposed to have her." Ricky grumbles, lifting another box into the trunk with a grimace. He shouldn't be complaining, but it's just frustrating! Usually when he gets Chloe, he has a plan, how to keep her entertained, what food to buy that she actually eats, but when Claire just springs it on him, he's completely unprepared!

"Well, the entire reason we're married is so that you could get her more, right?" You're not seeing the problem. Why is he complaining about it now when this is exactly what you wanted? "You're supposed to have your hearing next week about custody, you can say you've pretty much had her this entire time."

"True," your husband sighs as he closes the trunk heavily, leaning against it as he looks at you with a tired look on his face. He crosses his arms with a frown. "I've just not had any time to prepare for it. If Claire's sick, she needs to let me know so we can work through it. I can take Chloe more if she needs."

"Maybe she's afraid you'll take Chloe away from her, she's her daughter after all. She's good to Chloe, she's happy." you remind him, because it's the truth; Chloe is a happy child, and both of her parents clearly love her; you're not going to hate Claire simply because her relationship didn't work out with Ricky, she's still a good mother from what you can see. You know they're both going to trash the hell out of each other when they're in the courtroom, but they better not do it in front of their child.

"I never said Claire was a bad mother, she's just... difficult, sometimes. I want to see my daughter more than once a month."

"Well, you have lately," you reply, glancing up at the house Ricky shares with Ryan. He needed a few more things from his old room, so you'd offered to drive him over, it wouldn't hurt for the two of you to be seen out in public. You brush your hair behind your ears, your hands going to your hips. "I think she's mostly doing it to spoil the free time we have together, if you want my opinion. Kinda like a last-ditch effort to foil our supposed happiness."

"You think that's what it is?" Ricky rubs the back of his neck. He doesn't want to just completely villanize the mother of his child, but they're not together for a reason. She's so demanding, and everything he does is wrong, it should have ended way before they had Chloe. He tried to stay longer because of her, but it just... they couldn't get along. He wishes things were different, that they could be a happy family, but they weren't meant to be together.

"Well, I can't read her mind, but I'm guessing. Either way, we have this weekend to ourselves. What dastardly deeds do you need to do?" You glance at your watch. You took the day off so you're not working, and it's been the first one since the wedding. "Why don't we get some food?"

"Food sounds great." Ricky agrees easily, opening his door. "Italian?"

"It's like you read my mind." You smile, making sure the trunk is closed good before tossing yourself into the drivers seat. You always have this fear of it randomly opening while you're driving down the road.

"You just always want Italian, that's all," he's got you figured out after living with you for almost an entire month. You are not a morning person, you like your coffee black, and you definitely do kick in your sleep. He's not commented about the fact you always end up on his side of the bed, he kind of likes it if he's being truthful. He always liked waking up with someone beside him, there's a comfort to it, he guesses.

"Are you saying I'm predictable?"

"I'm saying you like what you like," he replies carefully, and you send him a wry look as you start the car. It had been nice to see Ryan, who'd looked kind of lonely when the two of you were leaving. He hadn't commented that he knew about your fake marriage, but you suppose that's not something you bring up casually; it just seems weird that he knows the truth, but he's still acting like nothing is different.

You and Ricky are trying to make it work, after all. He's splitting the bills with you, which is a total help financially. Your water and electricity bill has of course gone up with someone else living with you, but it evens out with the fact he cooks and you don't have too. Your refrigerator has more food in it now than it ever has, not to mention there are crayons all over your apartment, and some random princess dolls you found half-hidden in your couch cushions. Chloe had no issue moving in, that's for sure. She seems to like her room since she's kind of made it her own.

"Do you think they're still waiting for the baby announcement?" You ask after a moment as you pull out into traffic.

"Oh, probably. Has your aunt asked about it again?"

"God, yes. It's like every time we talk she's asking if we're planning on having any kids soon." You huff, irked. "I don't know how many times I've told her that we want to wait."

"I don't think I could handle another kid anyway. Chloe is such a handful." Ricky groans, propping his arm along the window, running his fingers through his hair. "Could you imagine having an infant screaming all night in that small apartment? Your neighbors would hear."

"I don't have neighbors."

"Exactly!"

"I doubt it would be that bad," you cluck, pursing your lips together as you try to decide if you can run that yellow light or not --- maybe not. "I mean, I'm not sure about the whole screaming thing, but people do it all the time."

"Sure they do, but they also don't sleep."

You do treasure your sleep. "Is it really that bad?"

"Just until they get on a schedule, and then you sort of get used to it. Claire always made Chloe stay in a different room, so she wouldn't want to sleep with us all the time."

"Oh. But Chloe has slept with us pretty much every time she's been over."

"Yeah," Ricky frowns. "At first I thought it was because it was a new place and it freaked her out, now I think she's just a mooch."

You snort in surprise, glancing at him. "A mooch?"

"Well, I mean that in like, well, nevermind." Ricky flushes. He thinks it's because Chloe likes the fact it's almost like having two parents who like each other, sleeping in the same bed because she's scared. "I guess it's because I'm letting her get away with it."

"Well, it's not like we're having sex, so there's not any concern over that." You flip your blinker a little harder than necessary. You wouldn't mind having sex, if you're being honest, but it's Ricky, and that would be weird. It's just that you've been spending so much time together now, you're so comfortable with each other. You haven't shared a kiss since your wedding, but it had been such a good kiss.

He'd surprised you.

It doesn't matter, not really. You think it's just that weird time of the month where your hormones must be off, so you just dismiss it. You've just gotten to know him so much lately you're kind of thinking of him differently, although he does have little habits that annoy you.

Talking on the phone late at night, pacing incessantly, letting Chloe get away with murder. You don't feel like you should say anything because she's not your daughter and this marriage is a sham, but he really needs to tighten the reins just a little. Is he just letting her do whatever so she wants to stay with him more often, or is he just that lenient?

She's a very good kid, but every child has their rebellious moments, and now that the little girl is settling in, you're seeing more of it. That's normal, though, right? You've never been around a lot of kids, so you don't really know what to do, but you're trying.

Ricky doesn't say anything, and you finally stop at the restaurant. You stretch your arms above your head with a sigh, leaning back into your seat. "How many times have we eat here in the past few months?"

"I'm pretty sure we have stock in there now," Ricky says as he unbuckles, reaching for the door. "Come on, I'll buy your breadsticks."

"Ah, bringing out the big bucks, are we? You really do want to get laid."

"(Y/N)," Ricky rolls his eyes, his cheeks tinging. Why is that suddenly on your mind? You're just friends. Not bringing sex into the equation is the best thing to do in this situation, it would only make everything incredibly complicated. You're supposed to get a quiet divorce after all of this is over. He wants it to go as smoothly as possible.

You chuckle, the two of you heading for the steps to the door, the staff greeting you familiarly. You're lead to the same table Ricky proposed to you at, and you notice the hostess eyeballing the diamond on your finger as she seats you, offering you menus. Yes, it's a nice ring, but it means absolutely nothing.

"Do you think this is just our table now?" You ask after a moment, not bothering to look at the food options; you know what you want. "They always seat us here."

"Well, as much as we're here, it should be." Ricky responds, sort of tired of the lasagna he always gets. He only mentioned Italian because it's your favorite, not because it's what he's wanting. He glances up at you, noticing that you're gazing out over the balcony, watching the cars go by.

Is something bothering you today? You've been sort of crabby, but he didn't wake you up early this morning, you slept in, so that's not the problem. Whatever has you in such a mood, he wishes it would pass.

"Do you want dessert?" He asks after a moment, lowering the menu. "I don't think we've tried much of those yet."

"Oh, you can pick." you reply, not sounding interested. You force a smile at the waitress as she stops by, dropping off the breadsticks and your drinks. You both place your orders, and you reach for the wine glass.

It's barely three PM and you're drinking.

"Is everything okay?" Ricky asks after a moment, crossing his arms along the tablecloth. If you didn't want to come with him today, you didn't have too, he could have driven himself. He never asked you to do anything. Is the situation starting to wear on you? Are you regretting marrying him and having Chloe around? He knows you're not used to kids, but it's not like she's there all the time, either.

"Yeah, it's fine," you reply, not about to tell him the real reason you're cranky. It'll pass, and usually if you're a little tipsy it helps. "Do you mind driving us home?"

"No." He sort of figured he would be when you ordered alcohol. He watches as you drain the glass rather than savor it, gesturing at the waitress for a refill. "But why are you drinking this early?"

"I wasn't aware I had to have a reason."

O-kay then. Ricky leans back in his seat, deciding not to ask another question before you bite his head off. You seem to like the decision, and it's a quiet dinner. Ricky mostly plays on his phone as you gaze out over the balcony, tapping your finger constantly against the glass. You don't even really enjoy the breadsticks, and finally you sigh.

"I'm sorry," you say after a moment, noticing he's barely touched his food. He's picked at it a little, and he's not said a word to you after you snapped at him. You didn't mean to get all hostile with him, it came out before you could stop it. You're just tired, it's been completely different since Chloe has actually been staying with you so often, your routine is all messed up. You know you'll have to get used to it, and you shouldn't take it out on him. "I'm just all weird today. I'll be fine when we get back to the apartment and I can take a nap."

"No, it's alright, I get it. I'm sort of imposing on you." He mutters; you were used to living alone, and now he's there all the time. It's more like the two of you are roommates, but he still feels like he's invading your space. Maybe he should spend the next couple of nights at Ryans, give you some time alone. "I can crash at Ryan's for a bit if that helps."

"No, don't do that, that would be weird." You sigh, shaking your head. You're not sure why you're in a mood, you'll just have to get over it. You don't want to be a dick to him. "He'll think I kicked you out and guilt me."

"He's not going to guilt you."

"He'll totally do it in that super passive-aggressive way that he has about him."

"Nah."

"Ricky, you know him. He'll not say a word, but you know he's judging in here." You tap your forehead, just so he knows what you mean. "He's just too nice to say it."

Ahuh.

"Why don't we get the rest of this to go?" He changes the subject as he gestures at the food. "We can finish up at the apartment. I need to run some errands in town, pick up a few things for practice tomorrow."

"Is the album coming along?"

"Pretty well. We're supposed to have some shows coming up soon where we're gonna play some of the new songs."

Oh, right, about that.

"Do I need to keep Chloe when you're doing shows and tour and stuff?" You ask after a moment, it's something you never cleared up with him. Like, is he supposed to still get his normal weekends, you just stand in instead? You kind of need to know, since you typically work Saturdays, because you're not sure what you're going to do with her. You've kept her for a few hours at a time on and off throughout the years, Ricky trusts you with her, but never for an extended time. Even now Ricky is the one mostly interacting with her while you're busy.

"Oh, uh," Ricky hasn't thought about that. He tries to think of the dates for his shows and what weekends they correspond with, but he'll have to check the studio calendar since they've not been announced yet. "I haven't thought about that, actually."

"Well, the entire point of this," you gesture vaguely between the two of you, "is so that the judge thinks there's a stable place for her when you're off touring, so don't they kind of expect me to keep her? I don't mind."

"You don't?"

"No, you know I don't. I'd just like to know ahead of time."

"I'll check the dates for the shows, see when they are," he replies, rubbing the back of his neck. He taps his fingers nervously against the table. "You sure you'll be okay with her, though?"

"It's not like we're going to go burn down houses or something, Ricky, it'll be fine. I've kept her before plenty of times."

Yeah, but not... for days.

"You know this means you'll have to pick her up from Claire, drop her off to Claire. There's cooking, and entertaining, and playing dolls." He reminds, trying to think of anything to dissuade you. It's not that he doesn't get what you're saying, but that's his kid, and he just --- well, you're his wife now, legally speaking, so he knows you should be helping take care of Chloe. It just makes him nervous, he guesses. Chloe is his responsibility, not yours, and he hates to put that off on you. You're probably one of the best friends he has at the moment, you know everything that's going on; he doesn't know where he'd be without you, or how panicked he'd be about the court date coming up. It's really important to him that he gets fair custody of his daughter, even if he's going on tour --- so yeah, pretty much you're going to have to keep her in his absence.

"Trust me, I can play some mean Princess Paulie when I want too." You reply, amused. Does he think you haven't been forced to play dolls before? "It's going to be fine, really."

God he hopes so.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Ricky, seriously, it's fine," you sigh, the phone propped against your shoulder and ear as you wrestle with an incredibly tight lug nut on the wheel of a car; you've been trying for ten minutes to loosen it up, but it won't come off at all! Jesus, how tight did the previous shop put it on there? "It's just a few hours out of town, do you think I couldn't function without you before?"

"I know, but it's unexpected," Ricky stresses, his voice crackly with the distance. You know he's pacing back and forth. "It's a show in Colorado, but then I should be right back! It's just a big break for us to promote our album, and no one knew about it until now, but I hate ---."

"You're worried about Chloe? It's the middle of the week, she's at her mom's. I doubt you have to worry." You reply, straightening a little as you give the tire a frustrated kick, only to cringe in pain. He found out about it this morning, hastily shoved a ton of his things in a suitcase, packed a few guitars, and took off like his ass was on fire without too much of an explanation. "You'll be back by tonight anyway, you're not going to the moon."

Ricky huffs in your ear. "You could really sound like you missed me more."

Oh, were you supposed to? You wonder if the guys can hear your conversation, you know you're not on speaker but Ricky does leave his volume loud enough Helen Keller could hear every word. You hesitate --- maybe you should pretend you do miss him. Like, you're supposed to be in your honeymoon phase, right? You've barely been married a month.

Your eyes flick to your guys, but everyone is actually working today, and they don't notice as you slip into your office, closing the door behind you.

"Well, I do miss you." You say after a moment, hearing Ricky pause in surprise. "Every moment without you is like a piece of my soul is missing."

You know he's scowling, and you can't help but grin. Does he want a show? You'll give a show. "I miss you already, snookums. I can't wait till you get back tonight, I'll make sure to keep the bed nice and warm, heat the blankets just like how you want them. Maybe we can sip some hot cocoa, and we can play that game you like with the feather duster and the handcuffs----."

You hear a sudden cackle of laughter in the background as Ricky curses, and you laugh, knowing someone must have heard. No one's going to let the feather duster thing go, which is what you're counting on. You hope they rag him about it the entire time he's on the plane.

"Goddamnit, (Y/N)."

"So how much do you miss me now?" You tease, giggling.

"Oh, he's never going to let this go," Ricky groans, the call cutting out for several seconds before coming back. "Shit, okay, I gotta go, the plane's boarding. I'll see you tonight."

"Right-o. Have a safe flight."

You end the call, biting your lip in amusement. He's going to get you back for that, but you just couldn't help it! You're not sure who overheard, but no doubt he'll tell you all about it when he gets back. You might regret it later, but totally worth it.

You leave your phone on the desk, cracking your knuckles as you return to the car you were working on. You're getting this tire off one way or another.

~~~~~~~~~

"Yo, boss!"

"What?" You scowl as you lean up, halfway through jacking up a car so you can change the flat tire. It took you twenty minutes and two other guys, not to mention two different lug wrenches! You've never had a car be so difficult before in your life! You squint as you see one of your guys in the office, holding the corded phone in his greased hand.

"There's a call for you, some school." he says, waving the white phone at you.

"School?" You say in confusion. "Is it, like, a telemarketer?"

You never went to college, not like you could afford it, and you're not going to start now. You haven't been to high school in ages, and you can't imagine why some stupid school would be calling you. You're a half mind to tell him to just hang up, but for some reason you stand, wiping the black marks off your fingers as you start towards him.

"Take over for me," you sigh as you take the phone, and he nods, starting towards the car you were almost done with. You frown down at the phone as you close the office door behind you, immediately cutting half the garage noise down by half.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Rebecca James from Franklin Elementary School, is this (Y/N) Olson?"

Uh, right, that's you.

"Yes." You hesitate, wondering why --- oh shit! "Is Chloe okay?" You demand, a light bulb suddenly going off. Ricky said he would be putting you down as an emergency contact for the school, just in the event something ever did happen and neither of her parents answered. You never thought that day would come, Ricky's typically glued to his cellphone, but ---.

"Oh, she's just a little sick, we need someone to come pick her up from school for the day." the lady on the phone replies, sounding sympathetic."There's just a stomach bug going around and I believe she got it. I attempted to call her mother and father, but it went to voicemail."

"Oh, it's okay, I'll be right there." You reply, glancing down at yourself. "Does she need anything?"

"She should be alright, she's in the nurses office."

"Okay, thank you." You listen to the call end, grimacing.

You don't even know how to get to the elementary school! Thank god for GPS, but you better change real quick, don't want to go in there covered in tar after all. Shit, now you're going to have to leave the shop again, and you hate doing that, you feel like you've been so absent lately as it is!

You give the garage a nervous glance through your blinds before sighing.

Well, stepmomhood, right?

You sort of signed on for this.

~~~~~~~~~~

Is this the right school? You hope so. You nervously step up to the little counter, noticing the wall murals of apples and trees, little bees dancing happily around them with fingerprints all about. It smells like glue and lunch, thanks to the cafeteria being the first thing you notice when you walk in, and why is everything so tiled?

"Um, excuse me," you hesitate, peeping through the glass in front of you at the lady at the desk; why do you feel like you're looking at a bank teller? She looks up from doing... whatever it is she's doing, giving you an expectant look as her eyes flick over you; you know you look disheveled, you threw on different clothes, didn't fix your hair, and took off in a hurry. "I'm here to pick up Chloe Olson, she's sick?"

"Oh, you must be her mother. Right this way, Mrs. Olson." The lady stands before you can state that you are in fact not her mother, disappearing around the table out of your sight. You withhold a sigh as you turn, watching as she opens a glass door and urges you into a small office with fake, rubber plants and uncomfortable seating, gesturing to the right.

Oh, well, the door labeled Nurse, that must be the one. You take a few hesitant steps forward, glancing around uneasily; you don't like little kid schools, they're almost creepy with all their forced positivity and brightly dressed secretaries; is it school code they all have to wear yellow and pearls?

Who the hell can even afford pearls?

"Chloe, sweetie?" the lady knocks lightly on the nurse door before opening it. "Your mother is here to pick you up. Oh, poor thing's asleep, Rebecca, this is Mrs. Olson."

You suddenly don't want to be Mrs. Olson. Your eyes flick over to the lady rising out of those uncomfortable blue chairs every school seems to have, her eyes coming to meet yours with a smile as the other lady leaves. She gestures you inside, and you reluctantly let the door close behind you; why do you feel like you're in trouble?

"Hello, we spoke on the phone. I'm Rebecca," the nurse offers her hand, which you find is absolutely freezing.

"Er, I'm (Y/N), her dad's wife. I mean, her stepmom, I guess." You mutter, flustered. The only time you ever went to any of the office's at school was because you were in trouble for fighting or something, which you suppose is maybe why it makes you uncomfortable now. You never went to the nurse, mainly because you thought you were too tough for it as a kid --- being raised by your dad in a car shop probably didn't exactly do you much good growing up personality wise. "Is she alright?"

"Yes, she's napping right now," the nurse keeps her voice soft. "But she could use some rest at home, maybe some soup and medicine for her tummy. Were you able to get ahold of her parents?"

"Ricky's on a trip right now, he'll be back tonight. I don't know what Claire's doing," you sigh, your eyes flicking to Chloe when she shuffles. You step over to her when she starts to sit up, rubbing her eyes. "Hey, sweetpea, you doing okay?"

"(Y/N)?" Chloe sniffles as she sees you, and you realize she's been crying. Oh no, does she feel that bad? You're not sure if you have any medicine at home, you'll have to stop and get some for her, what does she normally take? She does look a little pale, was she able to keep anything on her stomach? Has she been throwing up? Should you take her to the doctor? You don't know anything about her insurance, you don't have her cards, you're so not prepped for this!

"Hey," you absently brush her hair out of her eyes, sitting down on the edge of the green bed like you would typically see in a doctors office. "I'm gonna take you home, okay?"

"Where's Daddy?" Chloe grimaces, and it's clear she doesn't feel well, no faking at all. She's pale, her lips are bloodless, cheeks don't have the usual pink hue. She's not really the kid to pretend to be sick, either.

"He's on a trip, so he sent me." You reply, leaning down to lift her backpack over your shoulder. Oh how cute, it's Minnie Mouse, it even has the ears on top. "We're gonna go home and get some rest , he'll be here tonight."

"Mommy?"

"I'll have to call her," you hedge, you have no idea what her mother is doing. Shouldn't she be more attentive!? You're not sure what kind of job she works or what she does, but if she noticed a call from her child's school within the last hour, she should have called by now! You have her number, Ricky made you take just in case, but you really don't want to have to call her. Ricky is going to have a coronary when he realizes the one day he goes out of town, his daughter gets sick, so you'll have to text him before his plane lands.

Chloe sighs in disappointment, but she slips off the plastic looking bed, only to suddenly whiten. The nurse lifts up a tiny bucket you hadn't noticed before, having it at the little girls lips before she even gets sick --- wow that lady is fast.

Oh dear.

"Are you sure it's just a virus?" You worry as the child spills her guts, sitting down in the floor and starting to cry big tears that tug at you. You kneel down beside her, her grubby fingers immediately curling in your t shirt as she turns her face to your chest.

"Oh, yes, it's going around right now," the nurse shrugs, as if this is something she deals with on a daily basis. She wipes gently at Chloe's lips, sighing. "Some orange juice and some sleep should help, but a visit to the doctor wouldn't hurt either."

Right.

You should really get a copy of her insurance.

She has some right?

Oh lord you better take her home.

~~~~~~~~~

The fact you had to carry Chloe from the car and up the stairs to your apartment is probably one of the toughest five minutes of your life. Not to mention she's heavy, you're apparently not that strong, but stairs --- how does Ricky make this look so easy?

The only person you've ever had to care for when they're sick is yourself, your dad never let you see him feeling bad, he always seemed so strong. But you find that it doesn't bother you too much, holding Chloe's hair back or telling her it's going to be alright as she cries and whimpers because she feels terrible. You've tried calling Claire about eight times, but she's still not answering you, maybe because she doesn't know your number?

Ricky is already having a heart attack, but his plane is supposed to have landed already, so he's on his way back to the apartment. You assured him it was just a stomach bug when you finally got through to him, that she was fine, and he has to have called her mom by now right?

It's fine if Chloe stays the night, you just don't know why Claire isn't looking for her child. Where is the woman?

"I feel so bad," Chloe sighs as you help her towel dry her hair, urging her to step on a towel so it can soak up some of the water on the tiles below. You're not sure which one of you splashed water everywhere, but it's everywhere. Even you're damp and you didn't do anything!

"I know, sweetpea, but you'll feel better tomorrow. Just keep drinking the magic pink potion, remember?" You say lightly --- it's literally off-brand Pepto bismal, it's all you had at home but at least it was in date. She didn't seem to mind the taste too much, and she didn't immediately spill her guts afterward, so at least it's in her system by now. You thought calling it a magic potion would lean her to actually drinking it than saying it was medicine, and it worked!

"Daddy will be home soon," you tell her as you finish her hair. You thought maybe a bath would make her feel better, it always does you, so at least now she's cleaned up. You threw one of Ricky's t shirts on her, so of course it's too big and almost brushes her toes, but she looks cute. It was just the first thing you saw in his room and you didn't want to rifle for her pajamas --- it almost felt like you were invading his space.

"Where is he?"

"He had a show to do out of town, but he'll be here in a few hours. His plane should already be landing soon. He'll be home before you know it." You force a smile at her as she rubs her eyes, not looking comforted. You know she would probably feel much better with her parents around, but you're doing your best --- you have no idea what you're doing, but winging it seems okay. She's really the only little kid you've been around, other than your cousins, but it's not as if you're looking after them.

Maybe you should have called your aunt and asked for some advice, she would have known what to do instantly. You wish she would figure out how to text so that you wouldn't have to call, you can never get off the phone with her.

Maybe it's because you don't call often enough?

"(Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for trying to make me feel better," Chloe says after a moment, her eyes flicking to yours, and they look so serious! You blink at her, surprised, before forcing another smile. What are you supposed to say to that? You swear, sometimes it's like she's a little adult.

"That's what stepmoms are supposed to do, right? Take care of the kiddos." You say lightly, patting her shoulders. "I mean, I'm not like the mean one off Cinderella, I hope."

"No," Chloe gives you the slightest tilt of her pale lips. "You're really nice, I like you. I liked you before Daddy did, I think."

You snort, but she's probably right. You're pretty sure you've intimidated Ricky all these years and he was more afraid to not be friends with you than anything --- plus you work on his car for a discount, so there's that. Well, since you're married, maybe for free now? He's really getting the best deal out of this relationship.

"Why don't we take a nap and see if we feel better, hmm?" you suggest after a moment, not knowing what else to do. If she falls asleep soon, maybe you can get some stuff done around the apartment. You'll just close the door and let her snooze.

"Will you stay with me?" she asks, immediately destroying your plans. "Can we watch TV?"

"Of course." You sigh internally as she leans forward, wrapping her arms around your neck. You grimace as you lift her up, feeling the wet tips of her hair brush against your shirt; you're going to be soaked after this, aren't you? You carry her towards the couch, grabbing your blanket and tossing it over her where she snuggles at your side, letting her head rest in your lap.

"Can we watch Princess Sofia?" Chloe sniffles, and you hesitate; what the hell is that?

"Uh, sure." You lean for the remote, tapping the button for Netflix. "What's it called?"

It takes you five minutes to find the show, and you let it play, wondering what you're getting yourself in too. You've never clicked on the kids profile before, but there's a first for everything. Chloe sighs in your lap, her fingers curled against your thigh as she watches the show for a few minutes before drifting off. You've given her that medicine, and you hope it's kicking in --- she does seem a little better. Maybe some rest tonight will make her feel more like herself.

You lean your head back against the cushions, propping your feet up on the coffee table. You don't want to change the show, afraid Chloe might wake up and an episode of Game of Thrones probably isn't age-appropriate. So instead you find yourself watching the show about a commoner girl turned princess upon her mother marrying the king, and her going to princess school to be the best princess ever.

You're not sure at what point you drift off, sometime between the random three fairies helping Sofia in school and the other Disney Princesses popping in to offer guidance. You just shuffle a little when you hear your door opening, the soft thump of bags on the wooden floor and the click of the locks.

You slowly swivel your head, seeing your husband hastily starting in your direction, obviously looking for his sick child. You press a finger against your lips before pointing down at the blanket-clad little girl snoozing peacefully in your lap, and Ricky looks relieved.

Actually, he looks like he needs a shower. He's still in his concert outfit, black smeared against his skin and so thick around his eyes he looks like a pale raccoon. He'd been in a rush and hadn't been able to sit still, worried Chloe was sick; did she need to go to the ER? Should he call her pediatrician?

"Hey," he says softly as he comes to your side, squatting down so he's level with the couch, "how is she?"

"Well, we had a bath and a lot of medicine, so it's snooze time." You reply, hopefully as quietly. You don't want to wake her up, not when she's just started to rest. "She seems okay now."

"Good." Ricky looks relieved. "I'm glad you texted me, I got it before I did the voicemails."

"Did you get in touch with her mom?" You ask after a moment, seeing his brows furrow. "I tried to call her, but she probably doesn't have my number."

"She sent her boyfriend to pick Chloe up, said she was at work and couldn't leave. She called me in a panic because the school said her mother already picked her up." Ricky sounds the faintest bit amused, and your cheeks flush.

"Well. Mrs. Olson picked her up," you reply. "Not my fault they made assumptions. Is she going to pick her up?"

"In the morning, we'll let her rest tonight." Ricky replies, slowly straightening. He stretches with a sigh, and you can tell he's tired. Hopping two planes and playing a show has to be exhausting, but at least he hasn't been cleaning up vomit the last six hours.

"Take a shower, get comfy. She's gonna be out a little while." You say after a moment, giving him a smile. "I'm sure you'll know if she wakes up."

"Alright." That's a good idea. He's sweaty, smells like perfume and paint, and feels like he hasn't slept in two days. It'll be nice to get under some hot water and relax.

A few minutes later, he stands beneath the hot water, letting it rush against his skin and wash the black paint away. Claire chewed his ear off for letting you pick up Chloe, but he didn't want to tell you that.

She was frightened something happened to her daughter, but if she'd answered her phone she would have known! It's also none of her business if he does go out of town, he has no reason to tell her his every move.

It eats at him that she still tries to be so controlling of him just because they have a child, but he refuses. He wants to see his daughter more, be involved in her life, help with her birthday parties. He just wished he didn't have to be around Claire to do it.

He's thankful for you, and that you're taking all of this in stride, not even a complaint! He's changed up your entire life for his own selfish reasons, he realized... and Ryan also pointed it out earlier.

He owes you a night out or something, maybe a concert, just to show his gratitude. No one else would have done this for him.

He hesitates as there's a light knock on the door before he hears it open. Oh, uh...

"Please don't get out and be naked, but Chloe used the last towel so there's none in here." He hears you say after a moment, embarrassed. You didn't think about it until the water was already on. "I'm gonna leave them on the sink, okay?"

"Oh, uh, thanks." He says, eyes flicking to the gray and pink striped shower curtain hiding him from your sight. Your bathroom is decently sized, big enough it's okay for two people to be in comfortably, but it suddenly seems very small.

"Sure." Your eyes flick to the foggy mirror for a brief moment before away, and you quickly turn to leave before pausing. "Oh, and I already put Chloe in your room, she's sleeping like a rock."

"Thanks, (Y/N)."

Hopefully she'll feel better in the morning. Ricky hates that he wasn't there for her when she needed him, he should've been able to pick his child up and bring her home, give her medicine and comfort her. You really stepped up to the plate today, taking care of her.

He knows his music is important, it's his job and how he makes money. He has to focus on his career, he has to go on these trips for promotions. It was just a lot easier when he didn't have a kid whose mother keeps flaking on him when she knows he can't just appear on a dime.

He does worry about tours. He'll be gone for months on end, and Chloe is getting old enough now she's going to notice she hasn't seen her father in a long time. He's talked to her on the phone, but Claire always says she doesn't have time for video chat or more than five minutes.

If you get to keep Chloe, it'll be easier. It's not like you're going to tell him he can't talk to his daughter for as long as he wants, and you'd probably go the extra mile to make sure he could chat with her.

He trusts you more than anyone in the world.

~~~~~~~~

"Ricky?"

"Hmm?" He didn't realize you were still awake. He'd tried to give you time to sleep, checked on Chloe, watched some mindless TV before heading to bed. He crawled in as quietly as possible and didn't even jerk the blanket off you like you always do to him when you sleep.

"Are you worried about court coming up? It's this week right?" You say after a moment, your back to him where you rest on your side, facing the wall. He shifts slightly, pillowing his head with his arms as he stares at the ceiling.

"I've not been thinking about it too much."

Oh, you figured he'd be agonizing over it, that's his thing. He likes to work himself up into a frenzy and pace back and forth all night and unknowingly bother you.

"Do you think our marriage is actually going to help any?"

"God, I hope so. Otherwise we went through all this for nothing."

"Well, yeah, but it's not been all bad." You say after a moment, snuggling your arms around your pillow, shifting just enough that you get more of the blanket. "I don't mind having a roommate, and you're like a furnace on the colder nights, despite you have cold hands."

Ricky rolls his eyes; so you do know what you're doing! "Then why do you steal the covers away from me all the time?"

"I thought that was a requirement of being a wife." you reply in amusement, curling your legs beneath the heavy blankets, purposefully inching it away from him. "We take your covers, steal your warmth, fix your car."

Ricky snorts. "It's supposed to be the other way around. I should be able to fix your car."

"You don't even know how to change a tire."

"So? I can Youtube it."

This time, you're the one rolling your eyes. "I mean, you can, but that doesn't mean you'll do it right. Just keep to writing music, you're good at that."

"I'm good at other things!"

"Oh yeah? Name me a few." You tease, hearing the indignance in his voice. You can't help but finally move so that you can look at him, lifting up on your elbows to peer at him in the dark. You've successfully dragged the blanket off of him completely at this point, leaving him in those ridiculous blue and green sleep pants with the frogs on them that Chloe made him buy last time she was over because she also found one in her size and they could match. You thought it was adorable and took pictures.

His eyes flick over to you, just able to see your outline; he leaves the bedroom door cracked out of habit now in case Chloe wants to crawl in with the two of you, you don't seem to mind at all, and it leaves a sliver of light across the bed.

"Well, uh... You're really putting me on the spot here."

"Oh, am I?" You chuckle, propping your chin on your hand as you face him, amused. You flick his arm playfully, your gaze absently roving over his tattoos. "Come one, surely you're good at three things that aren't music."

"Coffee. I can make coffee."

"Anyone can make coffee."

"Don't you have to work in the morning?" He grumbles, starting to feel a little cold. "You need your rest."

"Are you bossing me around, Mr. Olson? This is my bed, you know, I hold the power here."

"Is that why you stole the blanket away from me? Trying to freeze me out?"

"Just asserting dominance." You reply, although you do take mercy on him and toss his half back over him. You have no idea that his cheeks are burning bright red, and that in his head the conversation is starting to take a completely different turn. He wishes you wouldn't tease him, especially not in that tone.

You stifle a yawn behind your hand, sighing. "If Claire doesn't pick Chloe up tomorrow, will you take her to the doctor if she isn't feeling any better?"

"Yeah, I will. I'll get you a copy of her insurance so that you have it." He says absently, watching as you snuggle back to your pillow, but you stay facing him; typically you sleep with your back to him all the time. "Just in case."

"Good. I mean, I think it's just a bug, she should be fine." You say, your eyes already closed. You reach out thoughtlessly, patting his shoulder. "She probably feels better knowing that you're here."

"She's been asleep since I came home."

"She probably knows it subconsciously."

Ricky doubts that. His kid sleeps like a log.

"(Y/N)?"

"Mhmm?" You sound sleepy now, he can tell you're drifting off.

"Thank you, for taking care of her today."

"That's what I'm supposed to do," you sigh, feeling his cold fingers slip through yours where they lay against his shoulder, squeezing. "I'm her stepmom, it's my job."

Yeah, but... well, you don't have too. He doesn't feel like there's a point in reiterating that the marriage is fake, and you don't have to play the part of wife so well. It'll be worse in the end when the two of you divorce, Chloe will be so confused after she's gotten used to you being around --- or maybe everything will go back to as it was before, just normal. You two will be friends, you lived as roommates for a while, you'll still be close.

His eyes rove to you where you sleep, your fingers curled loosely in his.

Really, though... he doesn't think anything will ever be the same.

Tags: @svintsandghosts @batgirl09151997 @ nokomihorror @ryansitkowskiswifey, @theoneandonlykymberlee, maelloute, musicsexandpizza69, jojomiwbvb6

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pass3rby · 6 years

Text

Caught By Your Past

24th Part

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Pairing: Altair x Malik Warnings: modern AU, mature, OOC, original female character; unbetaed.

A/N: Here’s to a better Monday (hopefully)

Even a snail-speed did not stop a development. If somebody tried to put it into a picture show, it would be a night or a hanging-out nap per slide and each would star Altair a bit closer to the bed than the one before.

As much as Malik was trying to keep his annoyed facade going and on, things were gradually changing for them and if he should be honest at least to himself, he didn't do his best to avoid it. He made the exact opposite actually – which meant letting things happen. Therefore, they had trash-talks and they didn't tiptoe around each other. Neither missed the opportunity for a good ribbing; Altair had nagging down to a science and Malik always repaid his affection in kind with a dash of dry & salty on top. His unparalleled claim on the bed stayed respected.

Among other things, the three of them also had a movie night, full of Malik's condescending remarks aimed either at the screen or at Altair who kept shoving his feet on his lap and his sister lording over them both with popcorn thrown at whichever of them she decided deserved it the most at a randomly selected moment; which ended spectacularly with half-a-comforter and the same amount of a passed-out sister on him, exclusive Backpain edition of a Death in The Making and Altair seated on the floor in between his legs, out cold as well.

They still did not “get their freak on” – and thank you, sis, there is never going to be any after hearing you sing-rap… What the even… What was that? Altair nearly laughed his ass off when he heard that one. Must have been something real dreadful then.

It was only a matter of time until this unmanned train took them to another level, though. Therefore, Malik wasn't surprised when one day he found himself lying in his bed with Altair loosely spooning him. Either a lethargy hit his system hard or his brain stopped overthinking everything for that moment; maybe both. But he didn't pull away and neither did he kick Altair off the bed.

Being tense was just a far-off memory now; one muscled arm thrown over Malik's side in a relaxed manner only accentuated the feeling. Random patterns being drawn on his hip... How exactly did they get there? He honestly couldn't tell – or remember. The only thing his mind was able to recognize, be aware of and distinguish was the proximity, warmth and overall tranquil ease of the moment that he was soaking up. Things he grew unaccustomed to overtime slowly settling over his body, then gradually seeping into him.

As sappy as it sounded even in his own head, Malik didn't want to lose this. Not again. It was worth everything, all the costs that went along with it. Like it had been worth it to the very moment he could not keep up. Like the memory was, still.

Recently, Altair's phone came back to life. For the whole span of his visit here the device must've been on plane mode or something, otherwise there would be no reasonable explanation of the phone suddenly blasting various hits through the flat so much only as of late. Malik could count on the fingers of one hand how many times he saw the man use the device before. That sudden trilling mania somehow popped the isolated-reality bubble which formed around the three of them.

The knowledge of the world outside, its existence, was always there; Malik interacted with it all the time, contrary to popular belief. The amount was limited, but there. Intellectually, he got that covered. Still, as absurd as it sounded, that cursed piece of technology set all alarms in Malik's head off. Soon after he realized why. There was still the rest of the world that could concern Altair and worse – that would demand him back. And as much as Malik was sure of his own worth, accepting that wasn't as easy as it sounded. The world was exactly what took Altair away from him the last time, too, after all.

This was nonsense. He behaved like a teenage girl here. They were good and those were just silly phone calls. And if he strengthened his own hold on the arm embracing him a bit so what. It was comfortable, and he fucking liked it.

It was going to be fine, he firmly decided. Suck it up.

Trying to hide the subtle change behind reasoning, he shot off the first question that came to mind.

“What do you do for work anyway?” Coming to think of that, it wasn't a stupid one. What was stupid was the fact that even after three weeks, Malik actually didn't know the answer.

“I'm a BASE jumper.” Fingers kept on drawing yet another pattern into Malik's skin, obviously disinterested in the topic and overall not finding it worth stopping what they were doing. Which perfectly complemented Altair's unphased words. Malik? Not so much. His muscles spasmed and his whole body froze.

Well, Altair never did anything by halves, did he…

His anger simmered forth and an elevated pulse didn't stay far behind. Having to call upon the trademark scowl to get back where it belonged only made Malik register that it was missing in the first place and what an utter wanker!

There was never a better opportunity to drop that pin.

Dear idiot, have you ever heard of the silence before–

Apparently, Altair never did, because he didn't make a mad dash for exit the very second.

A book hit Altair's head.

Fast.

Hard.

“You told me you're staying, you fucker!” Malik surged up, glaring at the liar. Does he honestly think Malik's an idiot who doesn't know what BASE jumpers do to get their rocks off?!

“I am, though!” Altair followed his example and as much as his voice was vehement, his face was painted with a dumbass look. Unsurprisingly, it didn't keep strictly to his face; Malik could almost see the idiocy seeping into the brain matter, too. As if Altair needed any more.

“No, you're not! You travel the whole blasted world!”

Trying to kill yourself in the process!

“Malik, what the hell?!” Self-preservation instincts must've finally kick in, because Altair made a quick escape out of the bed. The temptation of maiming him lessened a bit. For now.

That uncomprehending, confused expression didn't disappear, though.

As if he had any right-

“I've said what my job is right on the first day here. What's so wrong about it all of a sudden?”

Way to make Malik go beet red. Because, unbeknownst to him, the brunette pointed out that it was Malik's own fault. This is what you get for spacing out at a wrong moment. Altair must've mentioned his occupation when Malik was still too busy trying to ride the sudden tsunami wave of…everything when he saw Altair for the first time in twelve years. Not only was he acting like an absolute moron just seconds ago, but he was also frustrated and desperate now – thanks to his own lapse. That was just so–!

He hurled yet another book Altair's way, wishing he could fling it at himself instead.

***

After Altair left to seek safety outside the room, Malik started to gradually cool down. It didn't happen of its own accord; the anger would most probably insist on staying until it burned him up physically just as it had mentally, but Malik wasn't fond of letting anything or anyone control him. He might've had a temporary, weak moment, but it was time to reign the fire back in. Only to find out he had nothing to do.

No, let him rectify that statement. He had loads to do and the only thing that separated him from it was the power button on his laptop. Currently, however, he would only add more errors than corrections. Disgusted at himself for such loss of control, the more motivation it was to recall his unfocused mind back in order. If he ever wanted to regain his mental equilibrium back, though, he had to divest himself of the pressing distraction. And the first step to achieve that was to address the matter. So, folding his arms on his chest, he did.

As much as both him and Altair were stubborn, as much as the room refugee was venturous in his very core, Malik was proud. Not that he didn't have grounds to be. However sometimes, the trait made it hard to admit a mistake of his own doing. He was very careful to avoid situations that would push him into the very act, but nobody's perfect and the recent argument had only proven that statement once again. Malik was adept at owning his mistakes nowadays; he still did not enjoy doing that but was capable of the action. That alone wasn't all there was to the problem, was it.

The real issue was Altair's... job. Hobby. Both, because Altair would not spend an hour of his time on something that wouldn't be worth it to him. Arguing aside; the thing was serious. Dangerous business. Heaps of adrenaline. Exactly what Altair always craved. Malik was no stranger to dealing with this situation. An exact same one. He could swear it wasn't so hard to do when he was seventeen, though. And back then? Altair was far from holding back, too. Those who'd dare to think that him being younger forced some limits on him would be sorely mistaken. He used to dab into all sorts of things anyway which was no wonder, considering his crew of madness.

Ezio was overly fond of walls to the point that indoor wall climbing didn't even register on his radar anymore and instead, he went for urban parkour and freerunning. While Altair and the Italian weren't necessarily joined at the hip – small miracle and mercy spared on Malik – they sure shared similar, if not identical mindsets overall. Kenway would be another rebellious breed; mostly into activities involving water. These two, he and Ezio, were really tight, therefore where Ezio was, Kenway turned out to be nearby as well and vice versa. Therefore, although their diverging hobbies, the guys stole moves and tricks from each other and developed their styles even further down the road. Bec seemed like the least insane of the bunch, but even she had her own brand of crazy. In her case, the calling was technology, which sounded innocent enough. Until Malik witnessed her “fucking around” on a skateboard and glanced off a part of her snowboard-rave holiday trip, documented with the help of her baby drone.

That would be the main influential group of people that surrounded Altair for what seemed like ever since forever. And the teen wholeheartedly inhaled all he could from each one of them and then some, because his own specialization? Heights and jumps. Seriously, if you saw a spot so high your head spun, and Altair wasn't there already? All you had to do was mention the location.

Malik had been fine with who Altair was when they hit it off. He knew the guy equaled a walking, unbridled composition of insanity. They couldn't've been more different and that was fine as well. Thorough the time they've been an item, there were countless occasions where Altair turned up with some sort of injury – bones broken, black eyes, bruised ribs, cuts, you name it. Far from ideal to an outsider and yes, Malik wasn't delighted with all the bloody clothes either. Hell, the medicine cabinet must have gotten more action than he did in total. But when push came to shove, Malik would always accept it.

Accept it.

Malik reverted back into his present self. The one that was now clenching its fists and teeth. Unclenching his hands, releasing them out of the spastic prison, he forced the real issue – the truth out.

He was afraid.

Fear got to him this time around and it was the bone chilling kind, too. It was so easy to believe that Altair couldn't die, that nothing serious could happen to him when he was younger. The teen had pulled through so many failed attempts at whatever; he seemed immortal and excluded that level of confidence as well. Why would Malik worry back then?

Altair still got that vibe going on. The only difference here was, that Malik went with what his brain said much more these days. He was older. He was supposed to be sober-minded; smart. A fat lot of good it did to him here.

He didn't like it, alright?! He. Fuckin'. Didn't. BASE jumping was hazardous – at best. It was something Altair obviously had to do, loved to do, though. So, in the end, it didn't really matter what Malik thought. This wasn't about whether Altair would stop, quit the job for him or not. It was about Malik deciding to either go and tell Altair to fuck off or apologize and hope for the best.

He took in his whole room. The rackety chair still stood on all four, his books were sorted precisely the way he left them, there was no secondary background sound, only the wind sweeping through the trees outside.

Neither here nor there, that's where Malik stood at the moment and for the next couple of minutes. Then, done with the limbo, he bit the bullet, leaving the door open as he marched forth.

***

Of course this would be when it all went to shit.

Altair had no idea what exactly provoked Malik to such extent, but that didn't mean the result would disappear. He was still in the kitchen and Malik was still in his room.

Until he wasn't.

Hearing a noise behind him he spun around only to end up with a chest full of Malik's forehead. This was certainly unusual. No matter, he was far from refusing the gesture and what it meant. Wrapping his arms around the man, he was just glad that whatever that previous outburst was for, it was gone and done with; over.

Not that he wasn't interested in finding out what caused it; Malik wasn't one to lash out for something trivial. Altair sensed it was better to let it be, though. If and when Malik would want, he'd tell him. Of that, his sorry exiled ass was sure. The man was the least person to keep his mouth shut if he didn't like something, Altair thought with certain amount of affection.

“Wanna go grab a coffee?” They were bound to separate any minute now, so he might as well rid them of any possible awkwardness.

“Got to get my phone,” was a mumbled reply before Malik began pulling away. Altair didn't stop him.

“I'll wait by the door.”

#cbyp #assassin's creed #altmal #Missy Elliott reference in this one #deal

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