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just-come-baek · 3 years

Text

bet on it

Pairing: Na Jaemin x female!reader

Word count: 21.2k

Summary: One day, Jaemin stops by with a strange request. Any other person would just laugh in his face and refuse in a second. Unfortunately, I, being the dumbass I am, agree to it. Soon enough, everything gets out of hand, causing much more drama than we could ever predict.

Or in other words, Jaemin shouldn’t bet on things he knows he can’t win.

A/N it’s an instalment for love letters event hosted by neosmutcollective, I hope you enjoy my jaemin entry as well as other entries written by my friends from the network, check out the event tags too, and yeah, happy valentine's day! 😏 💖

***

“What?” I yelled, almost spitting my tea. No, I must’ve heard him wrong. Jaemin wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that. It had to be a joke. Or I must’ve imagined him say that. “You don’t mean that,” I added, still in shock, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“Come on, Noona,” Jaemin whined, staring right into my eyes, wishing for me to say yes to his ridiculous proposal. “I wouldn’t suggest that if I knew we couldn’t pull through.”

With a sigh, I shook my head. Jaemin’s proposition was absurd, and I couldn’t believe I was about to ask him again to walk me through it.

Damn me and my curiosity.

“Before I make my mind about this… tell me what the fuck led you guys to make that stupid bet. Then, and only then, I will still say no, but in good faith,” I demanded, smiling at Jaemin, knowing I wouldn’t make it easy for him to convince me. The odds weren’t in his favor, and he really had to put in lots of effort if he really wanted me on board.

“So we were chilling after practice, and then Haechan started to tease me that I have no game anymore,” Jaemin started, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, I should’ve figured it out. A man in his age apparently is a failure unless he has a different girl in his bed at least 3 nights a week, moaning his name at the top of her voice. Even though Jaemin doesn’t have a competitive nature, it still provoked him into agreeing to this absurd bet.

Life must be though with an ego so fragile…

Jaemin isn’t a fuckboy, yet he still has a fair share of love conquests. Though I had no idea whether it was true or not, he must have fallen a little behind the others – otherwise, they wouldn’t tease him about it.

“And then I said his mother must’ve dropped him on the head if he really thinks that,” Jaemin carried on. I nodded my head, trying to wrap my head around this preposterous situation. “Then, I said I could seduce any girl I want,” he added proudly, making me want to flicker his forehead, hoping it would knock some sense into that empty skull at the top of his neck.

“Okay, but how the hell did you end up with having to seduce me? This is the part I have the most trouble understanding,” I pointed out, cocking my eyebrow.

“Then, Chenle suggested we bet on it, and I agreed to it,” Jaemin whispered, looking away, sounding both regretful and shy. “I urged them to pick any girl, so Haechan looked around to choose my next conquest. It was the time when you and Ten were walking to the dance studio, and that bastard suggested you.”

So it was Haechan’s doing – I should’ve figured this one out. He was the only one wicked enough to possibly ruin somebody’s friendship because of a stupid bet.

Or, it was quite genius of him – maybe he figured Jaemin would not cross this line, choosing our friendship over winning this imbecilic bet.

“And you were confident you can woo me? What about our friendship? Does it mean anything to you?” I inquired, curious of what was going inside his head when he agreed to this half-witted bet. Did he seriously think we could have sex and then forget all about it?

“It’s not like that! I don’t want to woo you. I mean… I could, and you would be very much aware if I tried to hit on you, and you would fall for me. No doubts on that,” Jaemin spoke confidently, grinning like an idiot with ego blown way out of proportion. “But–“

Jaemin was about to say something dense, so before more bullshit managed to leave his mouth, I hit him with a cutting board. Jaemin whined, but I was sure he was exaggerating for comedy purposes. My hit was calculated and balanced – it was powerful enough for him to understand it wasn’t a good idea, but at the same, it was not going to cause any permanent damage to his brain. I’d never purposefully do that to him.

“We’re not having sex. Get that shit inside your head,” I interjected, pouring my herbal tea down my throat, already thinking about making another cup. This conversation was making me uncomfortable, and I wanted to put an end to it. Perhaps another lemon balm tea would calm my nerves.

Ignoring his penetrating gaze, I shuffled around the kitchen, setting the kettle on the stove. In the meantime, Jaemin walked around the kitchen island and grabbed me by my shoulders, looking straight into my eyes.

“Come on, Noona, I am not asking you to sleep with me,” Jaemin defended his case, quite determined to pull me on his side.

“Well… it looks exactly like you’re asking me to sleep with you,” I cut in, walking around him to the cabinet to get a fresh tea bag. I’ve really had enough of this bullshit.

“We could just make it look like like we did,” he carried on, and I heaved a deep sigh, regretting even letting him in today. I had this extremely boring essay to write, and at this point, I’d rather begin my research on whatever topic my professor assigned.

“It’s still a no from me, sorry,” I replied harshly, crashing Jaemin’s expectations. Judging by the look on his face, it wasn’t the outcome he anticipated when he decided to knock on my doors. “What happens when you lose that bet? Well… except for your pride, of course.”

“500 dollars.”

“Ouch, sowwy, I hope you can afford that,” I added with a fake smile, patting him on the shoulder, being well aware this amount of money was a game-changer to Jaemin’s budget. If he won, he would have the time of his life, spoiling himself. However, if he lost, he’d have to eat instant ramen on every meal for the entire month. “Either way, I hope it will teach you a lesson to not bet on things you know you can’t win.”

“Ugh, fine,” Jaemin groaned in disappointment, reaching for my hands, holding them carefully as if they were made of china. “If you help me, I’ll give you half of the money,” he proposed, and I looked at our hands linked together, then quickly shifted my gaze to his eyes. “If you help me win, you’ll get 250 dollars, and you’ll be finally able to buy those fancy shoes you wanted so bad. What do you say?”

When did he get so persuasive?

It was a low blow.

Jaemin knew that these shoes were tempting me ever since I had seen them. Multiple times, my thumb hovered over the add-to-cart button. Every time, I resisted the temptation last minute upon seeing the price tag, though. This purchase was way out of my budget. However, now, when the new income opportunity presented itself, it made me wonder.

Suddenly, the kettle began to whistle, bringing me down to Earth from that ridiculous train of thought. Shaking my head, I tore my hands out of Jaemin’s gentle grasp, fidgeting back to the stove, pouring boiling water into the cup.

“Okay, fine, but I have a few questions first,” I gave up after a short pause for intense pondering, and Jaemin smiled brightly in instant gratitude and relief. Without my help, he would be doomed. “And then, if I like the answers, I have a few conditions.”

“Anything.”

“Okay, so first of all, how much time do we have to do the deed,” I inquired as I blew some air before taking a cautious sip.

“About two weeks,” Jaemin mentioned after a while as he had counted on his fingers how many days we have to team up and win five hundred dollars for us. “Officially, we have to do it before Jaehyun’s birthday party,” he specified, and I hummed, realizing it is very little time.

“You seriously think I am that easy? Outrageous,” I gasped, throwing a fake tantrum as I made my way around him to sit down on the barstool on the other side of the kitchen island.

“No, of course not,” Jaemin quickly realized what I was getting on, so he smiled sheepishly, already trying to figure out the best wording to calm me down. “I am just that good,” he added, and I leaned over to smack his shoulder. “Kidding,” he defended himself, stepping out of my reach. “Renjun proposed this party, I mean, it’s the easiest way they can verify we did it,” Jaemin carried on, and I cursed under my breath.

How convenient.

“But we’re not going to do the fucking,” I stated, as a matter of fact, repeating myself in order to make sure we were both on the same page. As much as it would be pleasant to actually do it with him, never under these circumstances.

“No, we’re not, but I guess we can sneak out upstairs to one of the unoccupied rooms, and once we make sure they’re listening, you can just shout how good I’m fucking you,” Jaemin reasoned, and I sighed as regret once again washed through me.

“That’s creepy,” I commented as my mind conjured an image of a group of peeping Toms, eavesdropping on our sex session. Once again, I felt the temptation to drop out of this deal, but then, another thought crossed my mind. “Ugh, fine, I’ll do it. All I have to do is shout for two minutes, and then, these cute shoes will be mine.”

“Two minutes? Are you insane?” Jaemin hollered, offended by my comment. “It happened once, and it was ages ago. I’ve learned plenty of tricks since then,” he blabbered, acting way too defensive for his past mishap. “Just let me live in peace, please.”

“Okay, so we have established the deadline, and although it’s not enough time for anyone to woo me, let’s go with it.”

“Thank you! I knew I could count on you,” Jaemin replied with gleeful enthusiasm as he sat down on the barstool beside me and pressed a chaste kiss against my knuckles.

“But you have to go overboard with the courting,” I added, making Jaemin groan. Hard work wasn’t his best suit, but this time, he really had to try his best, or I’d have to turn him down at Jaehyun’s party. “You really have to make it believable and super romantic. Otherwise, I’m out,” I clarified, and Jaemin nodded, though unwillingly.

“Fine, any other wishes in mind?”

“Once we win the bet, we have to end this whole fake-dating fiasco immediately,” I announced, already planning ahead. It was easy to win the bet, but the most difficult part was getting back to normal. If we planned to fake-date in order to fake-fuck, then it was reasonable to figure out how we’re going to fake-break up.

“We should agree on admitting it was the best sex of our lives, but despite that, we value our friendship even more, so we decided to remain friends. How does it sound?” Jaemin suggested, and I had to once again resist the temptation to roll my eyes.

“I agree with the overall message, but later, we have to work on proper delivery.”

***

On the very next day, Jaemin and I decided to implement our secret plan.

Since I specifically asked to be courted in an over-the-top manner, Jaemin suggested going to the cinema. There were no attention-grabbing titles screened, yet ultimately, we agreed on watching the very last projection of the sequel to Wonder Woman.

“Go get the snacks, I’ll buy the tickets,” I ordered once we stepped into the cinema area of the nearest shopping mall. It was two o’clock in the afternoon, so the establishment wasn’t crowded. Except for us, there was only a family of three slowly making their way to the exit.

“See you in five minutes,” Jaemin murmured before he walked off to the bar to get us some salty popcorn and soda drinks. Though we both considered them way overpriced, it was a perfect way to celebrate the beginning of our fake relationship.

“We still have some time until the movie starts,” Jaemin shyly whispered as he cleared his throat. “Let’s take some selfies to make it public,” he added, and I nodded, sending him a timid smile, knowing this protocol had to be done in order to properly keep up appearances.

These days, everything had to be posted on social media, or it didn’t exist. If we didn’t leave a single digital mark, people might’ve grown a little bit suspicious of our alleged rendezvous. It would probably shock our friends, but it had to be done if we wanted to really sell it to them.

The circumstances were perfect for an impromptu first-date photo shoot. We were able to snap a few pictures without any annoying looks of prying eyes, choose the best angles, and finally post it with an ambiguous description confusing the shit out our friends.

Though Jaemin took about fifty photos, ultimately, I allowed him to upload three.

One picture showed me standing back to the camera as I looked at the cinema schedule, trying to pick a movie. I was wearing an A-line crimson red dress and a pair of warm black tights – the outfit really made my figure look pretty slim.

“What do you think about this one?” Jaemin inquired, showing me the photo of our interlaced hands. With a hum, I inspected the picture, giving him the green light. It was appropriate for our first date – it would signify we weren’t at the cinema as friends.

“This one looks good enough,” I commented as I reached to swipe across the screen of his smartphone. “I look cute here,” I added, showing Jaemin a picture of us. We were smiling, staring at the camera, almost stuffing our faces into the bucket of popcorn.

“What kind of description should I write?”

“Something vague, I guess,” I answered with a shrug, having no clue what kind of comment would be fitting for this Instagram post. “Maybe stick to emojis,” I suggested, and Jaemin went back to work, adjusting filters and typing the description.

With a chuckle, Jaemin handed me his phone, letting me approve his commentary.

“Are you out of your mind?” I hollered, quickly deleting the emojis. Having smacked his shoulder, I turned around, blocking him from seeing the screen. Three blushed emojis suited our fake-date better than a popcorn bucket, a wine glass, and an eggplant.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” Jaemin apologized, still laughing at his incredibly funny joke.

“Here, I posted it,” I said with an eye roll, throwing his phone at his lap. “The commercials must’ve started; let’s go,” I rose from my seat and extended my arm, wanting Jaemin to hand me the cup of coke. Jaemin, however, completely misunderstood my intentions, putting his hand into mine, holding it gently. “Give me my drink, Jaemin.”

“Sorry,” Jaemin sheepishly smiled before he yanked back his hand and turned his head around, too embarrassed to look at me. I, on the other hand, laughed hysterically. That should’ve served him right after that emoji faux pas.

“I was kidding,” I admitted when my laughter died down. “Come on, Jaemin. Let’s go; I want to see the trailers,” I added before grabbing his hand, hauling him inside the screening room.

At the last row, we plopped down onto our double seat, getting comfortable for the movie. With our belongings thrown onto the neighboring seat, we stretched our limbs before the lights went out, providing us with the best viewing experience.

“Do you think they’ve seen it?” Jaemin whispered into my ear as he placed his head on my shoulders. “I want to check it, but at the same time, I don’t.”

“Mood,” I replied, feeling just as anxious.

The movie began, and we quickly forgot about our bold social media statement, focusing much more on the screening. Residing to our typical behavior, Jaemin placed his head on my shoulder, snuggling closer, taking full advantage of the bucket of popcorn, which rested on my thighs.

It was peaceful and comfortable – just as things were before Jaemin had come up with his brilliant idea to fake-date each other for the sake of that ludicrous bet. Though we acted the way we used to with each other, it felt somewhat different with that supposed romantic connotations haunting us. Not necessarily bad kind of different, though.

Just as we expected, two hours was more than enough for our friends to spam our individual inboxes. We both had dozens of messages from group chats, as well as private ones. All of them were asking and/or speculating what happened and why.

“I don’t feel like answering any of these,” I muttered, dreading to read what Ten and Jiwoo wrote on our roomies’ group chat. “I don’t feel like coming home, either. They’re gonna eat me alive with questions. I am not ready to face them yet. Wanna hang out some more?”

“Fuck, even my mom has seen them,” Jaemin cursed under his breath, completely forgetting about his mother being a mad keen Instagram user. Now, when he looked at our arrangement from a slightly different angle, Jaemin realized it brought way more consequences than he was planning on facing.

It was bad.

Really bad.

With shaky hands, I unlocked my phone, checking the Instagram post Jaemin had tagged me in. Not only our friends flooded the group chats, but also, they didn’t forget to embarrass us even further in the comment section.

lucas_xx444: what the heck??? 😧 is this for real???

yuu_taa_1026: finally!!1 maybe they stop simping for each other now 🤡

_jeongjaehyun: another man down, shame 😔

choi.jiwoo21: 🙄🙄 some men actually grow up, jeong…

mama_nana: Why am I only finding about this now?

“Well… fuck,” I murmured under my breath, still unable to process the fact that Jaemin’s mom knew about it. It was supposed to be a harmless charade; however, with each passing minute, it was getting out of hand. “What is the damage control procedure?” I asked in concern, biting the bottom lip nervously. Lying to our friends was pretty bad, but keeping this relationship thingy up in front of his mother was despicable.

“You know how she is,” Jaemin started, and I sighed, wishing I had no clue of what she was capable of. Unfortunately, I did, and it scared the hell out of me. “Either we go and visit her, or she’s coming to visit us,” he wondered, unable to choose which option was worse. “Fuck, she’s calling me. What do I do?”

With panic flashed in his eyes, Jaemin handed me his phone, expecting me to handle the conversation with his gossip-girl type of a mother. As if that would ever happen…

“Pick up and tell her we’re awfully busy or something,” I ordered him, gliding my finger across the screen, pressing the device against Jaemin’s ear.

“Hi, mom,” he spoke through gritted teeth, staring at me in absolute fury. Quickly, his hand cupped mine before he grabbed the phone, adjusting it.

By Jaemin’s mom’s standards, the conversation was brief. Or rather, her monologue was because Jaemin didn’t speak a single word through the entirety of it. Except for a couple of mmm’s thrown here and there, he didn’t engage at all.

Ideally, Jaemin would schedule the visit after we will have broken up. He’d go there by himself and tell her a story of us coming back to our senses and deciding to remain just friends. Unfortunately, that would require at least one functional brain cell and a pinch of assertiveness – both of which Jaemin seemed to lack.

“And?” I inquired, praying to hear some good news.

With a sheepish smile, Jaemin cautiously looked up at me. “We’re visiting her for dinner on Friday,” he announced, and I gripped my hands, trying to refrain myself from beating the shit out of him.

I didn’t sign up for any of this!

I just wanted some shoes.

“I hate you, Na Jaemin,” I angrily declared, storming out of the cinema, ready to indulge myself with plenty of greasy food. It wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but I needed to consume a ridiculous amount of calories in order to forget I was stupid enough to agree to participate in this travesty. “Are you coming or not?!”

***

The last thing I wanted was to face my roommates. They must’ve had dozens of questions about this out-of-the-blue date, and I was dreadful because I couldn’t provide them with genuine answers. Perhaps, I could try to confabulate my way out of this, but it was, nonetheless, risky.

Having eaten at least two servings of a delicious greasy meal Jaemin and I went for a stroll under the pretense of taking some more photos for future references.

Around 8 o’clock, I unwillingly made my way home. Even with that romantic aura lurking around us, it was still fun to hang out with Jaemin.

Walking up the stairs to the fourth floor, I wondered about possible solutions to my problem. In a perfect scenario, I’d sneak into my room without anyone noticing, so I wouldn’t have to deal with any prying questions until, at least, early morning.

Unfortunately, the moment I pulled out my keys, the doors swung wide open.

“Well, well, well…” Ten tsked with a mischievous smirk dancing across his gorgeous face. Asshole. How dare he tsk me? “Had fun on your date?” He asked, and I tried my best to ignore him. It wasn’t that easy, though. With Jiwoo backing up his teasing, I was outnumbered.

“So… you and Jaemin, huh?” Jiwoo mused, cocking up her eyebrow in curiosity. “Spill the tea. I didn’t spam your inbox to not hear all the details,” she added, and I rolled my eyes, regretting all of my poor life choices that led me to this moment.

“I’ll bring wine,” Ten hollered before he disappeared in the kitchen, also keen on knowing everything that had happened between us. “Don’t say anything until I get there!”

They wanted to hear a romantic story of how two friends realized they had hots for each other, and that’s exactly what I did. Unwillingly, I provided them with an incredible piece of fiction of how we felt the spark when Jaemin stopped by the other day.

Admittedly, it was easy to go with the flow once the wine molecules were coursing through my veins. With some liquid inspiration in my bloodstream, I narrated how adorable Jaemin had been when he had gathered enough courage to ask me out on a date.

“So I assume you’re bringing Jaemin to the cabin on the weekend,” Jiwoo inquired in a teasing manner, and I blinked in confusion. What cabin was she talking about? “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Forgot about what?” I asked, still clueless about the whole ordeal. With a confused frown, I wondered what this cabin trip was about. Positively, I didn’t forget about it. It’s impossible to forget about plans you weren’t even invited to.

So, Jiwoo explained everything in great detail.

Apparently, Jaehyun and Johnny planned a weekend getaway to the cabin by the sea. They invited plenty of people, but since it’s the middle of a hectic period of exams, only a small percentage of invitees would be able to make it.

Jaehyun, Johnny, and Lucas gave up trying to get the best grades two semesters ago, so their schedule was pretty much open. Renjun, Chenle, and Yeri were nerds with every necessary book memorized by heart, so they didn’t have to cram the weekend before the tests. Jiwoo, being heads over heels in love with Jaehyun, would even cancel her manicure appointment to make it to that trip. She was that serious about this fratboy for some reason…

And now, two individuals needed a perfect excuse to ditch an uncomfortable family dinner. When a chance presented itself in front of me, I just couldn’t say no.

“I’m going. I don’t know about Jaemin, though. He’s meeting his mom on Friday, but maybe he can make it work.”

“Fantastic,” Jiwoo shouted in excitement before finishing her glass of wine.

“Now, when I think about it, I am glad I’ve taken an extra shift at the gym,” Ten chimed in with a playful smirk as he sipped his wine. “You two simping for each other was painful to watch, but now, when you’re hitting it off, it’s gonna be unbearable.”

“What do you mean simping?” I yelled in a threatening manner, ready to fight him for spitting nonsense so carelessly. I might’ve had a tiny crush on Jaemin, but I wouldn’t call it simping. Also, suggesting the simping was mutual? He must’ve lost his freaking mind. Ridiculous!

“Shit, I didn’t think this through,” Jiwoo mentioned, now probably re-considering if the trip is worthwhile. She would love to hang out with Jaehyun and finally make a move, but on the other hand, she would have to deal with my and Jaemin’s romantic shenanigans.

“Why are you such drama queens? We’ve been on one date, for crying out loud! Stop acting like we’re some kind of overly touchy couple because we’re not,” I barked, having no more energy to argue with them. “We’ll keep PDA to a minimum, don’t worry.”

“No need to get so defensive,” Ten added, enjoying my misery a bit too much.

“I am not getting defensive,” I argued, though facing real trouble, unable to actually back up my perspective. “Anyway, I am going to sleep. Unlike the two of you, some people have real jobs,” I added before storming to my room, plopping onto my bed with a tired groan.

Having changed into my pajamas and sneaked under the covers, I finally dared to connect my phone to the Internet. My inbox was full of texts, so I read them all. I didn’t feel like replying to any of them, though. Instead, I opened my chat with Jaemin.

my love 💖 | 20:41 | I figured it out

my love 💖 | 20:41 | You don’t have to thank me

my love 💖 | 20:41 | Also

my love 💖 | 20:41 | Wtf Jaemin?

my love 💖 | 20:41 | What kind of name is that???

my love 💖 | 20:42 | Change it back

baNANA 🍓 | 20:43 | No. 😘

baNANA 🍓 | 20:43 | The name stays

baNANA 🍓 | 20:43 | You can’t make me 😝😝

baNANA 🍓 | 20:44 | And what don’t I have to thank you for?

my love 💖 | 20:44 | I might’ve found alternative plans for friday

baNANA 🍓 | 20:44 | Oh???

my love 💖 | 20:45 | Jiwoo invited us to the cabin for the weekend

my love 💖 | 20:45 | We’re gonna get so drunk!

my love 💖 | 20:45 | It’s okay if you can’t make it, tho

baNANA 🍓 | 20:45 | Wow

baNANA 🍓 | 20:45 | I have an exam on Monday…

baNANA 🍓 | 20:45 | But I can make Haechan give me his notes

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | I wouldn’t miss it

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Good, then it’s a date

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | Date??? 🥰🥰

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Stop being so cringy!

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | Good night, love~~ 😘

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | Dream of me 😇😇😇

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Ugh.

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Disgusting 🤢🤮

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | I love you, too

***

As brilliant as my plan was, it fell through. Only partially, though. The little getaway was still a thing, but unfortunately, regardless of how much we tried, we couldn’t reschedule the dinner at Jaemin’s family home.

We still had to pay his parents a visit, but, at least, there was a silver lining.

Thanks to our hectic schedule, Jaemin’s mom wouldn’t have a chance to force us to stay longer. Whether she wanted to feed us dessert or stay the night, it was out of the question.

Since Jiwoo had one more exam to pass on Friday, half of the guests would have to show up later in the evening. Johnny, Jaehyun, Lucas, and Renjun were about to take off around noon while Jiwoo, Yeri, Chenle, Jaemin, and I had to carpool later in the evening.

I didn’t complain, though.

“It’ll be fine. It’s just my mom,” Jaemin reassured me, slipping his hand into mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I bet it’s gonna be like any other time you stopped by,” he added, and I cocked up my eyebrow suspiciously.

“You better be right,” I spoke, though still unconvinced. I knew Jaemin’s mother. She had a tendency to be, hmm…, a little bit extra. Who knew how she would behave now when she found out we were dating?

Since Jaemin was carrying our suitcases, I knocked on the front doors. Jaemin’s mom rushed to let us in, but not before she gave us bone-crushing hugs.

“I think you’ve misunderstood. I invited you for dinner. I didn’t ask you to move in with me,” Mrs. Na jested upon seeing the suitcases in Jaemin’s hands, misinterpreting the situation in the funniest way possible. “It must be shocking, but I enjoy living alone with your father.”

“We’re going to the beach with some friends after the dinner,” Jaemin clarified, and his mother hummed in understanding, acting a bit too cool about it. It’s been a while since Jaemin paid them a proper visit, and she was a little too nonchalant for my liking. “They’re going to pick us up around seven.”

She must’ve done something or was about to do something.

“Here’s some wine,” I spoke up, handing her the bottle as a small thank you gift for inviting us over for a delicious home-made meal.

“Thank you, dear. You’re so thoughtful,” Mrs. Na accepted the beverage, guiding us to the dining area. “I didn’t feel like cooking today, so I ordered some Chinese takeout. I hope you don’t mind,” she added, and I chuckled at her typical antics.

She was an amazing mother to Jaemin, raising him well, but she really was a terrible housewife. She didn’t change one bit, and I loved her for it. She had so much love for her husband, her son, and her son’s friends, and that’s what really mattered.

“Your father will be home in thirty,” she announced before she made a beeline to the kitchen to get a bottle opener. “And the takeout was supposed to arrive twenty minutes ago. If it weren’t for that slow delivery guy, I would’ve got away with my little secret,” she blabbered, laughing awkwardly.

“It’s okay, really,” I reassured her, sending her a genuine smile. “I am craving Chinese food, anyway,” I added before I elbowed Jaemin, so he would say something, too. For a blabbermouth he was, right now, he seemed awfully quiet.

Before Jaemin managed to provide his mother with a proper response, someone knocked on the doors. Since we had already arrived, it must’ve been the delivery guy with food.

“I’ll go get it,” Jaemin excused himself, leaving me alone with his mother.

“So…,” Mrs. Na cleared her throat as he began pouring wine into fancy glasses. “You guys are finally dating. And if you want me to be completely honest, I am a little bit disappointed,” she made a pause to look at me in the eye. What? She didn’t approve of me? That’s surprising; I used to think she adored me. “I am a little bit disappointed either of you didn’t make a move sooner. I was slowly losing hope,” she added, and I sighed in relief.

For a while, I was seriously concerned she didn’t like me.

“Are you expecting any guests? There’s no way we can finish it all by the four of us,” Jaemin commented as he walked into the dining room, setting two plastic bags of takeout. It smelled heavenly, and I couldn’t wait to taste whatever dish Mrs. Na had ordered.

“I can always invite your friends inside when they pull up,” she spoke matter-of-factly, but as soon as Jaemin looked at her sternly, she seconded that idea. “Or, I can pack it up, so you can share it with your friends later.”

“Should we wait for dad?” Jaemin asked when his stomach growled, demanding food. In the morning, he was quite anxious about going to his parents’ house, so he didn’t even bother to eat. Now, Jaemin was starving. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’ll get the plates,” his mom spoke, not really answering his question. Within two minutes, she came back with a special set of tableware. In their household, it was used only for holidays and other rare occasions. “Dig in,” she urged us, waiting for us to fill our plates before doing the same herself.

Whatever restaurant provided today’s dinner, it was remarkable. It wasn’t too salty, nor too spicy. Even when I was full, I still stuffed my mouth some more, unable to stop myself.

“You have sauce on your chin,” Jaemin remarked, pointing at his own chin, helping me locate the stray drop of soy sauce. “Here,” he added with a tired shake of his head, wiping it clean with his napkin.

“You two are too adorable,” Mrs. Na cooed, smiling at us widely. “It was worth the wait,” she added, and I creased my forehead in confusion. “Oh, did you hear that? It must be your dad,” Mrs. Na said upon hearing noise from the garage. “You keep eating, I’ll go greet his workaholic ass,” she excused herself with a playful smile before walking away from the table to welcome her husband as any loving wife would.

With a deep sigh, Jaemin leaned toward me, resting his arm on my chair.

“It’s not that bad, actually. I was excepting to go through some kind of FBI-level of interrogation, but she seems kind of chill about this whole thing,” Jaemin whispered into my ear, and I giggled, agreeing with him. It was kind of suspicious, but I couldn’t complain.

“It’s kinda creepy when she’s talking like she’s been rooting for us to end up together, but this one thing aside, it’s bearable,” I replied, and Jaemin nodded his head.

“I am gone for a minute, and you’re all over each other,” Mrs. Na snickered when she returned to the dining room, seeing Jaemin leaned in, only inches apart from my face. “Jaemin, mama’s so proud,” she added before she walked around the room to set the plate for Mr. Na.

“Stop embarrassing me,” Jaemin whined, playing with the food on his plate, pouting. Though his mother pretty much ignored his childish tantrum, I chuckled, finding it absolutely adorable. Maybe she was a teaser, but little Jaemin knew, he inherited it from her. It was time he experienced the taste of his own medicine.

The apple doesn’t fall that far from the tree…

The rest of the afternoon went peaceful. Though Mrs. Na threw in some cheesy remarks here and there, we could handle it. We were slightly buzzed, after all.

“It’s time for us,” Jaemin announced as he heard a car parked in front of the house. “It was nice. We should totally do it again,” he sarcastically added when he reached for my coat and helped me put it on.

“Don’t have too much fun,” she added with a playful smirk upon her face, earning a judging look from her more conservative husband. “No, wait, I second that. Have as much fun as you want. I am a cool parent,” she spoke, changing her mind in a matter of seconds. “And I plan on becoming a cool grandparent.”

At first, I wanted to remind her that we’re too young for children. Besides, technically, we only went on one date. It was definitely too soon to even think about these things, let alone talk about them out loud.

Thankfully, before I managed to say something I’d regret, Jiwoo honked, urging us to get going. If it wasn’t for her impatience, I might’ve ruined the image I had built for myself in Jaemin’s parents’ eyes.

“Your mother was joking! Always use protection,” Mr. Na hollered before he closed the doors after us.

***

Except for a few playful comments shot toward Jaemin and me, the ride was peaceful. As soon as we threw our suitcases into the trunk and squeezed in on the backseat, we hit the road. Jamming to Jiwoo’s playlist, we chatted in excitement, all of us in desperate need of a little vacation. It was a stressful time of a year, but maybe this short trip would actually help us recharge the batteries and calm down after busting our asses off.

“How was the dinner?” Jiwoo asked, staring at us in the rearview mirror. Since there was a limited amount of space, I was almost sitting on Jaemin’s laps. Jiwoo didn’t miss it with her eagle eyes. The way Jaemin played with my fingers didn’t go unnoticed, either.

“Bearable,” I muttered under my breath, not really wanting to recollect these memories now. I’d probably tell Jiwoo everything later, and she understood the subliminal message in a heartbeat. “How was your test?”

“I probably failed, but, at least, now I know what to expect,” Jiwoo answered as she turned to the left as the navigation system instructed her to.

In about two hours, we arrived at our destination.

Having stepped into the cabin with our heavy luggage in our hands, we encountered the middle of the party. A handful of beer bottles were scattered around the living area, the boys fervently discussing some matter.

“You’re finally here,” Jaehyun spoke matter-of-factly, as he noticed us in the threshold. “Go upstairs and leave your stuff in your rooms. We’ve already assigned them; just read the post-it notes stuck to the doors,” he explained before he turned away.

Huh, apparently, they were pros at planning.

The guys rented a cabin that consisted of six tiny bedrooms. Generally, we wouldn’t have a problem assigning them; however, since Jaehyun, Lucas, and Johnny didn’t want to room with anyone, we were facing a dilemma. They guys wanted to have some privacy if they managed to pick someone up at the hotel in the neighborhood. In this case, the six of us had to share rooms. Jiwoo and Yeri could room together. Renjun and Chenle could occupy another one, so it looked like they put Jaemin and me in the last one.

Thankfully, it wouldn’t be the first time when I had to share a bed with Jaemin. He had stayed the night plenty of times before when he dozed off during our Netflix marathons. However, it still was to be a little bit awkward since everybody thought we began dating. We were going to pull through, though.

As soon as possible, we came back downstairs, ready to even the score of consumed alcohol. All of us needed it. Everybody had a different reason for it, but none of our troubles were to be discussed tonight.

In the fridge, there was a whole palette of different types of alcohol. Quickly, I grabbed two tequila-flavored beers, handing one to Jaemin, allowing others to choose their poison.

My plan for tonight was to test every kind of alcohol, gradually going up with the percentages. It was a bad idea, but that’s what college was about – having fun like there’re no consequences.

We partied like there’s no tomorrow.

At first, we kept it simple. Fervent conversations led us to shout at one another, trying to force one perspective over the others. We were going through so many subjects that any sober bystander might’ve had real trouble comprehending how we managed to switch among them.

Then, someone suggested playing a drinking game. Of course, it had to be never have I ever. Everybody had so much fun, especially when the participants yelled at Jaemin and me because we didn’t even bother to abide by the rules. We were sipping our drinks whenever we felt like it, even between rounds, and it didn’t sit right with the rest. Eventually, they kicked us out of their little circle, giving us the crucial task of bringing some snacks from the kitchen.

Sometime past midnight, Jiwoo proposed going outside. It was beautifully snowing, but at the same time, it was freezing. Though I was opposed to this idea, everybody seemed to love it. The guys were throwing snowballs at each other, bringing out their inner child.

As if this wasn’t enough, they decided to take a stroll to the seaside. Though our cabin was maybe a mile away from the seashore, I didn’t particularly fancy the saunter. Jaemin was by my side, offering to warm my hand in his pocket, but I still was on the verge of freezing my ass off. I’d much rather sit by the fireplace under a few blankets with a mug of the mulled wine in my grasp. Apparently, everybody besides me was really intrigued by an ice bath and other winter extreme sports.

Though it was dangerous as fuck, Jiwoo took off her shoes and rolled up her jeans before she walked into the ice water of the sea. Being the dumbass he was, Lucas instantly followed suit.

“They seem to hit it off tonight,” I nonchalantly whispered as I elbowed Jaehyun. Jiwoo and Jaehyun might have a thing going on, but neither of them acted on it. Jiwoo was too whipped to make a move, too afraid of rejection. Jaehyun, on the other hand, was just a fuckboy, not really looking for a relationship. “Look at them. Don’t they look cute?” I carried on, cautiously watching Jaehyun’s expression. They weren’t together, but he seemed slightly jealous and frustrated watching her have lots of fun with Lucas.

In my opinion, he didn’t deserve her, but I didn’t really have a say in that matter. Jaehyun was the person Jiwoo’s heart longed for, and I, being her best friend, had to support that. Or, in this case, I had to give him a little push to get things in motion.

Jaehyun had some feelings for Jiwoo, but he needed some time and character development to fully comprehend them. Until then, it was my duty to remind him what he’s missing out on by not being serious enough to ask her out.

“Nah, I wouldn’t call them cute,” Jaehyun murmured through gritted teeth, positively jealous. “What they’re doing is dangerous; somebody has to stop them,” he added before he kicked off his own shoes, running toward Jiwoo to pick her up and bring her back to the shore.

“What was that?” Jaemin asked, being shook as to what he had witnessed.

“What was what? What do you mean?” I smirked, winking at him, hoping he wouldn’t tell anyone about it. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You played him,” Jaemin spoke, still impressed by how easily I manipulated Jaehyun into stepping into the scene, pulling Jiwoo away from Lucas. “Is this even legal? You’ve never done this one me, have you?”

“No, of course, not! Don’t be ridiculous,” I answered, though my tone suggested a completely different message. “You would’ve known, wouldn’t you?” I teased, chuckling at Jaemin’s funny expression. He was mortified. “I think you’re overreacting. I just pointed out some facts, and Jaehyun reacted to them according to his emotional opinion. I really didn’t do anything,” I added, defending my case.

“Don’t you ever try pulling a trick like that on me, okay?” Jaemin stated, and I nodded, giving him a promise. “I mean… I wouldn’t fall for it, but still, don’t.”

“We should head back to the cabin,” Johnny shouted, gathering the gang. Surprisingly, he seemed the most sober amongst us, so it didn’t come as a shock to me that he tried to look after his hammered friends.

In my opinion, it was a perfect call. I was slowly sobering up, and I definitely needed a refill. With my schedule packed, I had no idea when I would have a chance for another getaway, so I had to make the most out of this one.

As we returned to the cabin, Jaehyun’s eyes didn’t leave Jiwoo.

Jaemin, on the other hand, went upstairs to grab his camera, deciding it was the best time to snap photos. Of course, he had to take pictures of us when we were drunk out of our minds. Why didn’t he take any when we looked decent without smudged make-up?

“Sexy,” Jaemin commented as he pointed his camera at me. “Ahh, sexy,” he kept calling me that, and I stuck my tongue at him, wanting him to go away pester someone else. My hair was a mess, and my lipstick smudged off my lips a long time ago. “So sexy,” he carried on, making me roll my eyes at him. At some point, I tried kicking him, but that bastard was beyond my reach.

Around 2 o’clock, one by one, we began feeling tired.

Lucas was the first one to go. Considering how much alcohol he had drunk, I was surprised he lasted that long. Better yet, it was a shock he could even stand straight. Jaemin and Renjun had to escort him upstairs, but nonetheless, his alcohol tolerance was impressive.

I didn’t even realize when, but Yeri and Chenle managed to fall asleep on the couch. Firmly, Renjun shook them away, ordering them to go to their respective rooms. With tired yawns, they made their way upstairs, falling on their beds face-first.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Jaemin pouted as he sat on the side of the armchair, resting his head on my shoulder. Entwining his hand in mine, he stood up, pulling me up.

“Have fun, guys. We’re calling it a night,” I announced, refraining from yawning.

“No, you have fun,” Jiwoo replied, sending us a wink. Shaking my head, I sighed before we disappeared upstairs. I don’t know what she was thinking; however, I didn’t have the energy to keep my eyes open, let alone other nighttime activities. Besides, Jaemin was just as spent. Even if we were in a real relationship, we wouldn’t engage in half-conscious unsatisfactory messy sex.

“Come here,” Jaemin whispered as he smiled. His eyes were already closed as he patted the mattress beside him, waiting for me to join. “Good job. I think we really sold it to everybody,” he added as he snuggled closer, wrapping his limbs around my body.

“That’s good,” I purred, slowly drifting into dreamland. It was a long day, and it was finally over. Though it had a rough beginning, I ended it in Jaemin’s arms. “Good night.”

“Good night, my love,” Jaemin muttered, resting his head on my pillow right beside my face.

“You were supposed to change that name,” I replied, too drunk or/and too tired to realize it was his spoken words and not a text message.

***

During the second week of our relationship, we grew to be less tense around each other. Better yet, we seemed awfully comfortable, almost as if that’s how everything was meant to be. It was a little bit alarming, but I decided not to point that out. Even if it was just an act, I enjoyed it much more than I’d ever dare to admit. As long as it lasted, I was to savor it.

Ever since we came back from the weekend trip, Jaemin would pop up out of nowhere at least once a day with a surprise for me, proving how over the top he could be in courting a woman.

On Monday, he spammed his social media feed with my pictures from the trip. Of course, he didn’t forget to put a corny description under it, making me flustered. Even though I wouldn’t consider myself photogenic, Jaemin managed to bring out my best features with his photography talent and editing skills.

On Tuesday, Jaemin was waiting outside the auditorium with a cute bouquet of my favorite flowers – white roses. He was there to congratulate me on passing my last exam of the semester. The professor would send us results by the end of the week, but according to Jaemin, there was no chance I’d fail it.

“I still don’t get it how you do it,” Jaemin mused, scratching his temple, trying to put two and two together. “I hardly ever see you study, but then, you panic before an exam only to nail it later on. What kind of black magic is this?” He wondered, and I giggled, unable to explain my poor studying technique. I just winged it last minute every single time in my academic career.

“You better be right about this one,” I replied, still anxious about my grade. I didn’t manage to answer all of the questions, so a passing grade would be a relief. “I’m craving pasta. Do you want t go on a celebratory date?”

“You’re reading my mind,” Jaemin said, grabbing my hand, leading me to our favorite restaurant.

On Wednesday, Jaemin invited me to a bowling alley. Every month he would visit the establishment with his friends. Only on rare occasions, their significant others were invited. None of them could really commit to a serious relationship, so it never became a repetitive custom of their group.

“You guys are disgusting,” Haechan whined after our turn. Jaemin and I were losing by an enormous margin, but we didn’t mind. We were having fun despite a low score. “But at least, we’re winning,” Haechan added, pointing at Chenle and himself.

“I am the winner here,” Jaemin boldly announced, giving my hand a light squeeze, making me almost spit my soda.

Everybody cringed at Jaemin’s bold corny statement.

“I second that,” Haechan mused, looking away from Jaemin. “She’s bearable, and you are just absolutely repulsive,” he corrected himself, and I chuckled. Never in my entire life, I thought I would agree on something with Haechan, but this moment occurred right then.

On Thursday, although my schedule was packed with work, Jaemin insisted on hanging out. Tired out of my mind, I let Jaemin inside the apartment. He was carrying Mexican takeout; I couldn’t send him back home. Not when he had goodies.

“What do you want to watch?” I asked as I handed him the remote, allowing him to choose the movie. I was going to pass out anyway, so he might’ve as well picked something he liked.

“Anything is good,” he answered as he unwrapped his quesadilla, taking a bite off of it.

“The Notebook it is then,” I teased, but since Jaemin didn’t stop me, I put it on.

Having eaten my portion of a delicious meal, I lay down on the couch, resting my head on Jaemin’s thighs. I didn’t even realize when I fell asleep. Only when the credits were rolling down on the screen, Jaemin shook me awake.

“When did you fall asleep?” Jaemin inquired, a little bit mad that I forced him to watch the ultimate romantic movie of the twenty-first century. It was toxic as hell, and the way their behavior got romanticized didn’t sit right with me.

“As soon as I lay down,” I answered honestly, as I rolled around, staring at Jaemin’s handsome face. “How did you like the movie?” I asked innocently, swiftly changing the topic. It was for the better if Jaemin didn’t find out I paid no attention to the film. Instead of a great viewing experience, it was just a mere background noise that lulled me to sleep.

“I didn’t,” Jaemin whined, tapping his foot against the floor, making me sit up instantly. “It was toxic and sad at the same time. Noah was a manipulative jerk, and Allie was moody as fuck. The only bright side of their relationship is that they ended up with each other, not ruining other people’s lives,” Jaemin spoke the truth, and I couldn’t agree more. “In conclusion, give me my 2 hours back,” he added, and I hit him with a cushion.

Unable to comprehend what I just did, Jaemin blinked in confusion. Then, a few seconds later, he smirked and grabbed another cushion, ready to fight back.

Unfortunately, our childish antics were interrupted by Jiwoo. She was hanging out with Yuta, studying for the exam they had to retake the next day. To be completely honest, she couldn’t have any worse timing. While watching a movie was explainable, it wasn’t the case when it came to an impromptu pillow fight.

“Should I come back later, or something?” Jiwoo asked, pointing at the doors, willing to leave if it meant for me to get laid.

“Nah, Jaemin’s leaving. I am trying to kick him out, actually,” I announced, sticking my tongue out.

On Friday, Jaemin and I planned on going to the arcade. Unfortunately, we had to raincheck that. One of Jaemin’s coworkers fell sick, and Jaemin had to take a double shift at the coffee shop in his neighborhood.

I already had canceled my other plans to hang out with Jaemin, so I didn’t really want to stay at home all by myself. It was a Friday night, after all. Surprising him at work seemed like a better idea. His friends liked hanging out there; therefore, it must’ve been an excellent excuse for a little bit of acting in order to keep up appearances.

Quickly, I assembled a cute outfit and put on light make-up.

About an hour before the closing, I entered the coffee shop. Except for a few students with their noses in their computers, the establishment was empty.

“Welcome to–,” Jaemin hollered, ready to welcome the customers. “Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?” He asked as a wide smile spread across his face, enjoying my surprise.

“I just came to surprise you,” I confessed, though none of us paid enough attention to the gravity of my words. I genuinely wanted to hang out Jaemin him as his girlfriend. “And I also wanted to get some discounted goodies. What do you have left?” I asked, looking over his shoulder, trying to see what food didn’t sell yet. An hour before the closing, everything on the menu was discounted by seventy percent, and I just couldn’t walk past that kind of deal.

“You’re not the only one who came for cheap stuff,” Jaemin commented as he saw Haechan and Renjun on the other side of the doors. “Take a seat, I’ll bring you your favorite,” he added, and I smiled at him, walking to the booth by the window.

Having finished my Greek sandwich, I focused on my cup of tea. I was scrolling through social media feed, giggling whenever I stumbled upon a funny meme. It was a perfect evening; complete relaxation in the rhythm of soft foreign jazz music playing through speakers, Jaemin checking up on me once every a couple of minutes.

“Oh, hi, there,” Haechan hollered as soon as he noticed me. He must’ve been returning to his table from a restroom. “I didn’t realize you’re here. What’s up?” We weren’t close, so his question was more like a polite generic statement rather than genuine curiosity.

“I’m waiting for Jaemin to finish, so we can hang out at my place,” I answered, hoping Haechan would get the suggestive tone.

“Actually, there’s something you should know,” he said quietly, looking around, probably checking if Jaemin was within earshot. “I am so ashamed it happened, but I really have to tell you something,” Haechan added, and I couldn’t wait for him to reveal the secret.

Haechan was playing dirty. He wanted to tell me about the bet, ruining Jaemin’s chance at getting me to sleep with him. It was some top-tier double-crossing, and I found it impressive. I had no clue Haechan had it in him.

“We shouldn’t have done it. I don’t know why we even agreed to this,” Haechan added, scratching the back of his head, trying to sound genuinely regretful. “I think Jaemin’s not genuine about the thing you have going on. You see, we made a bet. He has to have sex with you, or else he owes Chenle 500 bucks.”

“What?!” I exclaimed, hoping my consternation was believable. At first, I felt the temptation to say something along, yeah, I know, what’s new, but then I decided to play along. It was actually a good idea to make it seem like Jaemin’s about to lose the bet. Knowing them, they wouldn’t call it off. If anything, Jaemin could double the stakes. “No, it can’t be true. Jaemin would never –“

Now, it was my cue to make a scene. Hopefully, it would play out exactly like in my impromptu prediction.

Reaching the stage of fake hysteria, I rose from my seat and stormed to Jaemin. He was energetically wiping off the tables, wanting to leave shortly after the last customer.

“Is that true? Did you really make a bet you can have sex with me?” I yelled at him through gritted teeth. Jaemin, on the other hand, was confused as fuck. “Did you really think you could get away with it? You disgust me!” I shouted, slapping his cheek. “Don’t ever call me again,” I added before I turned on my heel, storming out of the coffee shop.

Being the only employee at work, Jaemin couldn’t run after me.

Jaemin deserved an explanation. I had to fill him in on my wonderful plan before he would blow it in front of Renjun and Haechan.

my love 💖 | 20:46 | play along

my love 💖 | 20:46 | trust me

my love 💖 | 20:47 | kick them out pls

baNANA 🍓 | 20:47 | wtf???

baNANA 🍓 | 20:48 | that hurt

baNANA 🍓 | 20:48 | I didn’t have to kick them out

baNANA 🍓 | 20:49 | they ran out a few seconds after you

my love 💖 | 20:49 | good

baNANA 🍓 | 20:49 | what the hell is going on???

baNANA 🍓 | 20:50 | I am confused

my love 💖 | 20:50 | Haechan ‘told’ me about the bet

my love 💖 | 20:50 | he wanted to double cross you

baNANA 🍓 | 20:51 | what???

my love 💖 | 20:51 | so the plan is

my love 💖 | 20:51 | they know you don’t stand a chance

my love 💖 | 20:51 | so you double the stakes

my love 💖 | 20:52 | and then bam! we win double the money

baNANA 🍓 | 20:52 | wow

baNANA 🍓 | 20:52 | you’re a genius

my love 💖 | 20:53 | I know

my love 💖 | 20:53 | and since I’m acting like I’m not talking to you

my love 💖 | 20:53 | bye

my love 💖 | 20:54 | see you @ the party!

***

Everything went according to my plan. The guys thought I was pissed with Jaemin, while Jaemin still tried to convince them he stands a chance to court me. It was kind of ironic, they wanted to play me, but it was them getting played.

Together with Jiwoo and Ten, we came extra early to Jaehyun’s party. Still being stuck in friendzone, Jiwoo went out of her way to help him out. Today it meant setting up all types of decorations all over the fraternity house and preparing different kinds of snacks.

Around seven, an Uber pulled up in front of our building. Not to brag, but despite the limited amount of time, we managed to dress up to the nines.

I decided to keep it simple. My outfit consisted of a pair of skinny high-waisted black jeans, a long-sleeved sequin embellished crop top, and a pair of ankle-high boots.

Jiwoo, on the other hand, was wearing a two-piece baby pink dress and a pair of massive mid-thigh black leather platform combat boots. She looked fierce, like a weird baby of 90’s Britney Spears and Marilyn Mason.

Though Ten’s outfit looked the most effortless, it took him longer than us to put it together. Having thrown every single thing from his closet on the bed, Ten experienced a mild crisis. Even though he looked gorgeous in everything, he didn’t seem to believe us. Only after the off-hand intervention, he agreed to play it cool with a pair of ripped jeans, a black shirt with three top buttons left untouched, and an oversized leather jacket.

Once we arrived at Jaehyun’s fraternity, nothing was ready. Thankfully, it wasn’t my problem. Jiwoo was the one who volunteered to help out. Ten and I were about to vibe in the corner, letting other people arrange the place according to Jaehyun’s vision.

Trying our best not to disturb others, Ten and I watched the way the smelly fraternity sex mansion turned into a festive valentine’s manor.

“I hope she’s gonna get laid today,” I whispered into Ten’s ear, looking at Jiwoo working like a busy bee around the house.

“She better; that’s really painful to look at,” Ten agreed, looking a little bit disappointed. Jiwoo was at Jaehyun’s beck and call, and it was about time he acknowledged her feelings.

Around nine o’clock, it was getting a little bit crowded.

Music was blasting through the speakers. Some of the fratboys were already looking for their next conquest. Girls were dancing on a makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living area, suggestively swaying their hips, teasing whoever was watching with their sexy moves.

Later on, when I was in the middle of my fourth drink of the night, Jaemin finally showed up. Together with Haechan, Jeno, Renjun, and Chenle, they walked through the threshold. They all looked great, but Jaemin stood out in the crowd. After all, he was the only one to put on a suit jacket over his white T-shirt. While the rest rocked the comfortable outfits, Jaemin opted for a more elegant look.

Almost as if he wanted to impress someone. Or at least, apologize properly, trying every sly trick to make me forgive him.

Upon entrance, his eyes searched me in the crowd, and when he met my gaze, a smile stretched across his face. Shyly, he raised his hand, wanting to wave at me, but since I stubbornly turned my head around, playing my role of offended woman, he lowered it.

“I’ve seen an ATM on our way here,” Renjun commented, knowing Jaemin didn’t stand a chance of winning the bet.

“It won’t be necessary,” Jaemin replied, following me with his gaze. “I didn’t lose it yet,” he added, and the guys laughed at him. There was no way he still thought he could woo me. “I still have a few hours left; I am not going to give up.”

“You’re such a loser,” Jeno interjected as regret washed through him. Although he didn’t actively participate when the bet was placed, he didn’t oppose it. He was an idle bystander, allowing other people to ruin our friendship. It didn’t sit right with him, but it was too late. The damage was already done, and Jaemin was going to embarrass himself even further. “She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“It’s not like that,” Jaemin started, but he refused to explain how exactly it was like.

“You’re still gonna fail,” Haechan added with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Back at the coffee shop, he ruined Jaemin’s chance for success. “Hey there, beautiful,” Haechan spoke when his attention was snatched by one of the girls who walked past them.

Once the boys divided to greet other friends, Jaemin strolled to the kitchen. I was there, and he needed to initiate the first step of our plan.

Sincere apology.

“Can we talk?” Jaemin whispered as he reached out to grab my hand, interrupting my conversation with Ten and Yeri. “Let me explain. You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to listen to me,” he asked, and I unwillingly complied, letting him lead me toward an abandoned corner in the living area. No one could hear us talk, but at the same time, everybody could see us.

“What do you want, Jaemin,” I barked, folding my arms across my chest, startling myself with how good I managed to behave like an angry ex-girlfriend. Though it was my last semester, maybe I should change my major to professional acting.

“Wow. You’re too good at this,” Jaemin commented before he proceeded with his part. “Anyway, I made this card for you. I hope it finds you well,” he announced before he pulled an envelope out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

Cautiously, I took the valentine’s card out of the envelope. Once I saw the front page, I couldn’t help but laugh. Jaemin must’ve done it himself, or he stole it from Jeno’s four-year-old niece. It was all covered in hearty stickers and glitter.

Jaemin definitely wasn’t a poet. He had never stood next to one, either.

Instead of a heartfelt apology and love confession, there was a short corny message which simultaneously made me cringe and chuckle.

Are you a ba-NANA? Cause I find you a-peeling.

From Your Love

P.S. it’s from me, your Jaemin

“You’ve really outdone yourself,” I spoke, shaking my head, trying my best not to grin. I was supposed to hate him, but it was too difficult. “I am gonna walk away now. Approach me once you raise the stakes.”

Although I didn’t want to party without Jaemin by my side, it was what I had to do. Having sent him a faint smile, I turned around and walked away, giving Jaemin some time to initiate part two of our plan.

Having drunk a few fancy shots Ten had made for me, we hit the dance floor. At first, we just jumped in the rhythm. However, when the DJ played the song we had practiced at the dance studio, everybody stepped to the side, making enough room to let us perform the choreography.

With alcohol coursing in my system, my moves weren’t as precise as usual – they still earned a round of applause.

“Hey, hey, hey, are you having fun?” Drunk as a skunk, Jaehyun shouted through the microphone connected to the DJ’s console. “How about we slow up the tempo?” Jaehyun yelled, and everybody cheered, making a lot of noise. “Tonight’s the love festival, and I, the valentine’s boy, specifically request every find a person to slow dance with.”

Having set the microphone aside, Jaehyun pushed DJ away from the console, putting on his Cigarettes After Sex playlist. The first song which graced our ears was Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You.

“Can I have this dance?” Jaemin appeared out of nowhere by my side, extending his hand for me to take. “Please?” He looked into my eyes, waiting for my response, looking hopeful.

As soon as I nodded, Jaemin grabbed my hand and gently pulled me against his firm body, resting his left hand on my back, holding me still, making sure I’d not run away. With my head resting against his chest, we swayed slowly, getting lost in our little world.

“They think I am a terrible person,” Jaemin whispered into my ear, his breath tickling my skin. “They seriously think I’d try to ruin our friendship with this bet,” he carried on, and I hummed, taking an inhale, getting hit with Jaemin’s musky cologne.

The boys truly underestimated the power of our friendship. Jaemin and I told each other almost everything. It was bold of them to assume I had no idea about the bet.

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied as I had closed my eyes, getting lost in the moment. “Everything will come back to normal soon enough,” I added, trying to ignore the bittersweet taste of my statement. Our fake relationship had an expiration date, and it was near.

“You’re right. Everything will come back to normal,” Jaemin repeated my words as he rested his chin on top of my head, pulling me even closer. “You’re the best fake girlfriend I’ve ever had,” he added, pressing an innocent peck against my hairline.

“How many fake girlfriends have you had?” I asked, chuckling, sounding a bit jealous.

“Anyway,” Jaemin started, trying to change the subject. “The guys took the bait. And now, judging by the stupid looks on their faces, they’re shitting their pants.”

“Once the song is over, we should initiate the third phase of our plan,” I commented, wanting to be over with this. In about a minute, I was about to pull Jaemin out of the dance floor and lead him to the bathroom upstairs, where we would do the deed.

When another song from Jaehyun’s playlist echoed in the room, all the other couples kept dancing. Jaemin and I, on the other hand, were about to not so discreetly sneak upstairs.

Unfortunately, we met an obstacle on our path.

It was Jaehyun, pointing his phone at our faces.

“It’s a kiss cam. Do what you gotta do,” he spoke, and I creased my forehead in utter confusion. What the hell was he doing? What the hell was a kiss cam? It was a frat party, not a baseball match. Didn’t he have a beer pong championship to win or something?

“What?”

“Do I really have to explain this to everyone? Jesus,” Jaehyun complained, taking a deep sigh, trying to ease his irritation. “It’s Valentine’s day! I am Valentine’s boy! And this is a kiss cam. You kiss, and I take pictures,” he explained, but I wasn’t convinced. “Hurry up! I have to take like 50 more of them.”

At first, I didn’t want to do it. But then, a thought crossed my mind. Who would believe Jaemin and I had sex if I refused to give him a kiss. It was just one kiss; it wouldn’t hurt.

Having licked my lips, I smiled at Jaemin before I wrapped my hands around his neck, giving him a chaste smooch. It lasted maybe a few seconds, but it still made me uneasy. Even if it was just a brief peck, it was too much for my poor heart.

“What the fuck was that?” Jaehyun groaned in disappointment. “One more time, guys. That’s how you kiss your mother, not your girlfriend. You can do better.”

“Show him how it’s done, Jaemin,” I encouraged him, giving him permission to assault my lips, hoping it would happen to be one hell of a performance.

Having smirked, Jaemin leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against mine. Cautiously, he deepened the kiss, knocking the air out of my lungs, making my legs shake under my weight. His hands held my chin in place as his tongue slipped through my lips.

Out of a sudden, nothing else mattered. Jaemin and I were in our bubble, and despite it being a one-time thing, I wished it lasted forever. Whatever expectations I had about this moment, it wasn’t even close to reality.

Jaehyun cleared his throat, wanting to pull us out of our trance. In vain, though. I moved my lips against Jaemin’s in slow sync, letting the sweet sensation strip me of the last remains of dignity. I was to savor every second of it, basking in bliss.

“Ekhem,” Jaehyun grunted, starting to feel a little bit flustered. “You guys done?”

Once we broke apart to take a breath, Jaehyun spoke again.

“Have you seen Jiwoo, by the way?”

“Yeah, I think she went for a smoke with Lucas,” I answered casually, watching panic display on Jaehyun’s face. It was evident he didn’t fancy the newfound information. “She went outside like half an hour ago, though. I wonder what it takes them so long,” I added, planting another grain of doubt in his subconscious.

As soon as anxiety downed on him, Jaehyun bolted outside. He better, though. If Jaehyun wasn’t going to make a move on Jiwoo tonight, I was about to find another guy to ship her with.

“You did it again,” Jaemin pointed out, and I just shrugged, dismissing his comment. So what? One push in the right direction wasn’t enough for Jaehyun to grow up, so I decided to be generous enough to give him a second chance.

“Are you ready for phase three?” I asked Jaemin, but before he managed to reply, I grabbed his hand, pulling him across the dance floor. Giggling, I ran through the sea of people, not so accidentally bumping into Chenle, almost spilling his beer.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” I hollered, giggling. Now, when I had Chenle’s attention, we could sneak upstairs to proceed with the final step of our plan. “Come on, Jaemin, let’s go. I am horny,” I added, probably overdoing my part. Unfortunately, the words were already spoken. I couldn’t take them back.

Having locked the bathroom doors behind us, I jumped onto the countertop. “Don’t you think it’s a bit creepy they’re gonna eavesdrop on us bang? It’s kinda off-putting, you know…”

When Jaemin wanted to speak, somebody knocked on the doors. It must’ve been one of Jaemin’s friends, checking if we were indeed fucking. “It’s occupied,” Jaemin hollered, mentioning for me to start my performance.

“Fuck, Jaemin! Eat me out, already,” I yelled, pressing my hands against my mouth, trying to stifle my laugher. This situation was ridiculous, and I couldn’t help myself but giggle. I had only a few drinks, yet I felt like I was high as a kite. “Yes, like that! Ahhh…”

“Can’t wait to fuck that tight hole,” Jaemin played along, almost dying of alcohol-induced tittering. We were definitely having too much fun.

“Right there, Jaemin!” I screamed, holding my stomach as it began aching due to excessive cackling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there,” I moaned loudly, kicking my head back. “Don’t tease me, please!”

“I gotta get you ready for my cock, love,” Jaemin growled, and I gasped, my mind conjuring the forbidden image®.

“Just fuck me! I need your cock inside of me now!” I groaned, hoping whoever was on the other side of the doors heard enough of what was going inside. “Mmmm… you stretch me out so well…” I purred, almost falling off the counter when another round of uncontrollable laughter tried to erupt from my throat.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight.”

“Jaemin! Fuck, I am close. Keep going,” I yelled, mentally preparing for the big finale. This whole act was a vocal performance, and it was time I finished. “I’m coming! Come with me!”

“It was spectacular,” Jaemin whispered so only I could hear him. “I have one more favor, though,” he added, shying away. Oh no, he was about to ask about something stupid.

“What is it?”

“It could’ve been some random dude,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head, unsure how to voice his supplication. “Give me your panties. It’ll be the definite proof.”

“You’re joking,” I deadpanned, staring into his eyes, waiting for him to say it was just a harmless prank. “You’re serious,” I added as soon as I realized Jaemin meant it.

“Come on, I won’t be sniffing them,” Jaemin nagged, and I rolled my eyes. I didn’t even think about it, but now that he mentioned it, I had another reason not to comply with his weird-ass request. “I’ll give them back, I promise.”

“I can’t believe I am considering this,” I cursed under my breath. If any other person would like such a favor from me, I’d deny it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, I had a soft spot for Jaemin, so denying him didn’t come easy to me.

Hell, I wouldn’t be here if I was able to say no to him.

“You owe me big time,” I caved in, jumping off the countertop, stepping behind the shower curtain, providing myself with some privacy. “Don’t peek. Even if I slip, you gotta stay on the other side. Got it?” I added as I stuck my head through the curtain.

“Scout’s honor,” Jaemin pledged, and I rolled my eyes. He was a scout for maybe a week. His honor didn’t mean shit.

Clumsily, I took off my shoes and jeans. “Here,” I warned before I threw my panties over the curtain. “I am too sober for this,” I nagged, trying to put my skinny jeans back on.

“Let’s do celebratory shots!” Jaemin suggested, balling up my undergarments, hiding them in his pocket. “We deserve it,” he added, landing me a helping hand when I was stepping out of the shower.

“Let’s go.”

***

Needless to say, Jaemin won the bet.

Unfortunately, it meant the inevitable end of our fake relationship. It was fun when it lasted, and though I’d miss these times, it was time to set the record straight.

As we had discussed, we had to arrange our break up.

Sometime next week, Jaemin stopped by to give me half of the prize. Since the boys had been stupid enough to fall for our little charade, I received a large sum of money. It was Chenle who sponsored the prize. Because of that, I didn’t feel particularly sorry about deceiving them. After all, Chenle was so loaded; he wouldn’t notice if he lost that kind of money on the street. I could finally buy these shoes which I had been dreaming of for so long! Better yet, I'd still have some money left to spoil myself some more.

“How should we do it?” Jaemin asked quietly. Ever since he came, he avoided my gaze, staring at the floor.

“I don’t know,” I unwillingly answered. This conversation was the last thing I wanted to do right now, but it had to be done. Better sooner or later, before I’d catch some real feelings for Jaemin. I had no idea how I would pick up the pieces of my broken heart if we kept this act any longer. “Let’s just delete all posts we published. Someone will figure out something’s wrong, and when they spread the word, we’ll explain we decided to remain friends.”

Maybe I wasn’t in tears, but I felt regret wash through me. Though our relationship had never been a real thing, it felt like it.

And it hurt.

“Alright then,” Jaemin complied, rubbing his hands against his thighs before he pulled out his phone to erase any digital footprint of our brief romance. His thumb hovered over the delete button for a while. After a few moments of hesitation, when he didn’t hear any sign of protest from my side, he pressed it, sending our memories to a bottomless void. “And it’s gone.”

“Are we cool?” I asked, hoping that nothing would change between us. I had a hunch it would take me some time to get used to how things had been before the relationship fiasco. Nonetheless, I still had hope we could remain best friends without any awkwardness.

“Of course,” Jaemin answered with a faint smile, but I didn’t fully believe him. Something was off, and it bothered us. Shame that none of us dared to begin this topic.

After he left that day, we saw each other very seldom. We barely even spoke to one another. If it wasn’t for the group chats we were both in, we wouldn’t talk at all.

Jaemin had said we were cool, but it was evident we weren’t.

It was eating me from the inside out, but whenever somebody asked me about the break-up, I’d always shrug it off, confirming everything’s great. I would tell our friends nothing changed between us. There was nothing wrong; our schedules are just incompatible these days.

When I had pretended I was in a relationship with Jaemin, it was easy. It came naturally, and everyone ate it up without any second thoughts. Unfortunately, now, when I was trying to play it cool, no one seemed to buy it. Thankfully, they didn’t confront me about it. Instead, they offered me their support if I ever needed anything.

In my head, I had a few wild scenarios in which I tell Jaemin we should date for real. However, at the same time, a little devil on my shoulder was telling me it should never leave the realm of fantasy. It’s ridiculous to think Jaemin would reciprocate my feelings.

I felt as if sadness took over my body. Though I was smiling on the outside, I was filled with regret. Barely anything sparked joy these gloomy days. Even this pair of shoes, which I wanted so badly, didn’t stir any positive emotion. I bought them, but I never took them out of the box.

Jiwoo had taken me out on a few girls’ nights to make me feel better. Men are trash – she would always say when Jaehyun ignored her yet another text. Even though they had fucked each other at Jaehyun’s birthday party and agreed to become exclusive, Jaehyun still had lots of problems committing to a monogamous relationship. They hadn’t officially labeled it, but everyone knew Jaehyun was slowly caving in.

Fratboys’ habits die hard, but Jaehyun was finally shaping himself into boyfriend material. He no longer slept around, as far to my knowledge at least, but he still lacked in some departments. For instance, it would take him way too much to text back.

“You were so adorable together,” Jiwoo began after she gulped down another rum and coke. Despite her high alcohol tolerance, she was already drunk, speaking with no filter. “I mean… you were simping for him for so long, and you finally managed to jump that dick.”

“Your point being…” I inquired, finishing my drink. Though Jaemin and I had never had sex, I didn’t want to admit that. What would Jiwoo thought if I told her it was all-pretend?

“I shipped you guys so hard,” Jiwoo confessed. “Ten shipped you too, but he will never admit that,” she added, and I giggled. Now, that was an interesting take. Ten was so random at many aspects of life; it came to me as a surprise he even had an opinion on my relationship with Jaemin. “Can I just take some duck tape and put my ship back together?”

“I am not sure Jaemin would like that,” I answered with a sigh, my mood instantly decreasing.

“Nonsense,” Jiwoo replied in a heartbeat. “This guy is even worse than you,” she revealed, and I rolled my eyes, not buying this. At least a few times a week, at my lowest moments, I happened to check Jaemin’s social media updates. He didn’t seem to mope around at all.

“I find it hard to believe,” I muttered, trying not to get too emotional.

“I mean it,” Jiwoo confirmed her previous statement, eager to explain her thesis. “Jaehyun and I went on a little date to the coffee shop where Jaemin works,” she started, and I nodded, not really sure what she was getting at. Nonetheless, I let her continue. I was curious what Jaemin had been up to. And since he didn’t seem to want to tell me anything himself, I’d accept any type of second-hand information from Jiwoo. “Jaemin misses you. You have no idea how many times I caught him daydreaming. He still has your photo set on his lock screen, and he stares at it a lot.”

Now, that’s interesting.

I had no recollection of Jaemin ever setting my photo as his background picture. Even if Jiwoo was right, it meant he set after we had broken up. It made no sense at all, and I was too drunk to try to comprehend the meaning of this.

Instead, I ordered another round, trying to stifle all the brooding emotions within me.

***

February was the month of parties. Too many birthdays fell during this hectic period, and I had trouble keeping up with them. Fortunately, Ten’s party was the last one of the month. After a small get together at our place, I’d have some time off to relax by myself, most preferably, without alcohol.

Being the semi-hosts with Jiwoo, it was our duty to help Ten organize everything regarding his party. Though our trio was a little bit disorganized, somehow, we managed to get everything ready before anyone arrived.

Maybe it wasn’t comparable to birthday parties at fraternity houses; it still had its charm. It wasn’t as wild, but guests still were having a great time in the company of their closest friends. However, what was the most important, Ten had a blast.

It was his day; he deserved everything he wanted.

Trying my best not to embarrass Ten, I decided to socialize with his friends.

It was time I move on. It took me way too long to mourn a relationship that wasn’t even real. I couldn’t let my brooding mood ruin the party.

“Hmm… Ten has never mentioned you before,” I confessed, not finding it particularly odd. Ten didn’t have secretive nature; he just wasn’t the type of person to over-share. And he often forgot to even mention stuff about his personal life.

“I can’t say I am surprised,” Hendery replied, making me giggle. It was fun chatting with him. Hendery was hilarious, and he knew many secrets regarding Ten. It was my mission to get as much information from him as it was possible. I would need it for blackmailing purposes, of course.

Hiding out in the kitchen, we sipped beer and exchanged rumors as if we were two gossip girls. It was too entertaining to stop. I was incredibly immersed in the conversation; I didn’t even realize when someone tapped my shoulder.

“Can we talk?” I heard the question, recognizing the voice in an instant. It belonged to Jaemin, and it seemed to be laced with both jealousy and irritation. The way he phased his plea gave me flashbacks of the conversation we had at Jaehyun’s party.

I really wanted to continue my discussion with Hendery, but I couldn’t say no to Jaemin. It wasn’t how my brain was programmed. Besides, I missed him a lot.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” I told Hendery before I grabbed Jaemin’s hand, leading him to my room, locking the doors behind us.

“Nothing was supposed to change,” Jaemin started as he sat at the edge of my bed, leaning forward with his upper body propped on his elbows. His gaze was trained on the floor, too frustrated to look up at me.

“I know,” I whispered as I sat down in my chair on the other side of the room. My first instinct was to kneel in front of Jaemin, kiss his forehead, and assure him that everything’s going to be alright.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like a good idea, so I refrained from doing so. “I am sorry, it’s my fault.”

“Don’t,” Jaemin interjected before I embarrassed myself even further. “We’re both at fault.”

Despite the loud party noises coming from the other side of the doors, my bedroom was filled with deafening silence. It was awfully uncomfortable, and it was probably a good thing. One of us would get annoyed eventually and cave in, letting out all the bottled up emotions.

“I missed you,” I admitted, staring at my hands. I was all fidgety, and although I was too embarrassed to reveal my inner feelings, Jaemin deserved to know this much.

“I missed you, too,” he genuinely confessed, showing me a shy smile. “Actually, I missed you more than I thought it was possible to miss a person,” Jaemin carried on, and I held my breath, not ready to hear whatever he had to say. “You have no idea how much I wanted to text you or call you, but ultimately decided not to because I was sure you don’t want me to.”

“Jaemin,” I spoke, not really sure what I should say next. I had too many things I wanted to tell him about. However, now when he was here, I couldn’t properly voice my thoughts.

“Are you dating this guy you were talking to in the kitchen?” Jaemin asked out of the blue, catching me off guard with this random accusation. “Or do you want to date him? You two looked like you’re having a great time together,” he added, and I rolled my eyes. At first, Jaemin acted on his jealously, but then, insecurity crept in.

“I don’t know. I met Hendery today, but he seems like a great guy,” I answered honestly, thinking of possibilities of me trying to pursing something of romantic nature with Hendery. After our brief encounter, I could tell he’s fun to be around. And honestly speaking, I might’ve considered dating him if I hadn’t already had feelings for someone else.

Unfortunately, right now, I wasn’t in the right state of mind to date. Not when I was still hung up on my best friend.

“I probably won’t, though. I like somebody else,” I confessed, gaining Jaemin’s interest. Instantly, he sat up, staring into my eyes, patiently waiting for the reveal. “I am stupid, but I like this one guy. He’s such a jerk, I can’t even… he’s been ghosting me for weeks now,” I carried on, hoping Jaemin would get the hint.

Two weeks ago, we promised each other nothing would change. Despite our good intentions, it did. Even though I hadn’t told Jaemin how I really felt, I still lost my best friend.

My silence didn’t save this friendship. I tried to bottle up my emotions to secure our unbreakable bond. It didn’t work, so I figured confessing my feelings wouldn’t do any more harm. Surely, Jaemin was going to reject me, but at least, I’d clear the air between us.

Hopefully, my confession, followed by a harsh rejection, would help me move on.

Instantly, Jaemin ran up to my chair and knelt in front of me, trying to look into my eyes. “Please tell me this jerk is me,” Jaemin urgently spoke, unable to handle any more suspense. Jaemin’s gaze was hopeful, and it was too much for me to comprehend.

“What?” I asked, still being overwhelmed by confusion. What was going on? Why was Jaemin on his knees in front of me? Nothing made sense. How was I supposed to wrap my head around it? “I mean… yeah, it’s you. Who else could it be?”

“You have no idea how sorry I am,” Jaemin confessed as he grabbed my hand and yanked me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me, giving me a tight hug. “You could’ve said something… anything,” he added as he pulled back his head, placing a chase kiss against my forehead.

“I didn’t want to scare you away,” I admitted quietly, unable to break free from Jaemin’s cone-crashing embrace. I couldn’t believe he was so close. Na Jaemin was holding me in his arms, letting me listen to his rapid heartbeat.

“The worst two weeks of my life,” Jaemin spoke, once again breaking the silence. “It felt at least like two centuries,” he added, making me chuckle. Of course, it was an exaggeration, but it’s how I felt, too.

“How about we start over?” I proposed, taking a step backward to have a proper look at him. “Will you go on a date with me? This time around for real, no pretending,” I carried on, trying not to grin like an idiot.

“No.”

“What?”

What the fuck was that?

Did I misunderstand Jaemin’s words? I thought he felt the same, but apparently, he didn’t? Everything suggested he followed my flow only to crush my expectations, later on, leaving a big ass scar and more trust issues.

“I mean yes, but I should be me asking you out. Definitely not the other way around,” Jaemin clarified, making me relax. Thankfully, my mini panic attack was uncalled for. It was just my brain over-analyzing everything, conjuring the worst possible scenario.

“Then you better do your best to woo me,” I teased, wondering if he was willing enough to take the bait. It was just a mere joke, reminding me how it all began. He had wooed me once, and I wasn’t going to oppose to a second attempt. “Fun dates, romantic messages, silly gifts. I want it all,” I added, going a little bit overboard with my request list.

“Everything can be arranged,” Jaemin replied with a lopsided smile before he tightened his grip, almost crashing my bones in the process.

***

Jaemin and I began dating. This time around, it was real; no more pretending, no more stupid bets. Just two people who had discovered friendship could never be enough.

Even though I had told Jaemin I was just joking about this whole wooing thing, he refused to accept it, going to extreme lengths to make my heart flutter. I was already stupidly in love with him, yet he kept trying to make me swoon even more.

Despite our busy schedules, we made sure to see each other every day. It could’ve been a date at the arcade or just a quick coffee or a video call. In all honestly, I gladly accepted any form of contact from Jaemin.

I hated the prospect of going through a day without any message from him.

Except for many mini and maxi dates, Jaemin would also spoil me with plenty of encouraging notes of many kinds. Each massage from Jaemin was even sillier from the previous one. He never ceased to amaze me.

At first, Jaemin would stick post-it notes in different places in my room. Whenever I paid no attention, he would quickly write one for me to find it later. Whenever I saw sleep tight message stuck to my bedpost or you looked extra sexy today attached to the mirror, I smiled like an idiot, imaging Jaemin writing it.

If Jaemin forgot about post-it notes, he would always make it up to me by sending me corny direct messages. We would always text each other before sleep, and Jaemin never failed to make me smile with words such as:

If you happen to have wet dreams of me, you gotta tell me everything that happened. We can recreate it later.

I saw some sexy lingerie on my way home. Your ass would look amazing in it. I’m gonna buy it for you when I get my paycheck.

You’re the reason I wake up in the morning. Just kidding, I have to pee.

Whenever we went out, Jaemin would also scribble something either on a napkin or on a receipt. One time, Jaemin even gave a crumbled piece of paper that he was carrying in his pocket for some reason.

You know I’d give you my kidney, right? And a piece of the liver if you ask nicely. I hope you would do the same for me.

When we have kids, I’ll let you name the first one. Don’t fuck it up.

You’re my favorite pain in the ass.

You are stuck with me. You better get used to it.

Messy notes weren’t sufficient for Jaemin. Although I was more than content with the attention and affection he was giving me, it wasn’t enough for Jaemin. With each massage, he had to out-do himself.

Jaemin even wrote me a song! Or at least, he tried to write me a song. It was really bold of him to assume I didn’t know the lyrics to Jonas Brothers’ Sucker. I loved this song, and even though I perfectly knew it wasn’t Jaemin’s piece of work, I still appreciated the gesture.

Later on, his love letters reached another level of ridiculousness. Jaemin sent me a love e-mail, and if that doesn’t prove how extra he can get, I don’t know what can.

Jaemin didn’t stop there. No, it was just a warm-up.

When I was checking the mailbox, I found a paper plane stuck in between bills. Jaemin must’ve put it there, probably after one of his frequent visits to my apartment. Though the paper plane was a little bit crumbled, I found it incredibly adorable. On its wing, it had “open me” written with Jaemin’s messy handwriting. Inside there was a corny message that turned my insides in absolute cringe.

Your wings already exist. All you have to do is fly.

A few days later, Jaemin gave me a CD with the love playlist he had made for me. Carefully, he had chosen our favorite songs and burned them on a disc. I had no means to actually play it, but I adored the gesture.

Jaemin’s creativity did not disappoint. At this point, he might send me a love letter via a fax machine, and I wouldn’t be surprised. There were no limitations to his imagination, and it was one of the many things I loved about him.

Neither of us dropped the L-bomb yet, but we really didn’t need to. Though that dreaded word has yet to be spoken, we perfectly knew how we felt about each other. We would do anything for one another; no doubt in that.

Having exceeded my expectations, Jaemin proved himself worthy of being my boyfriend. Or rather, he showed me he was way out of my league. When he was bending over backward, I was passively basking in the glory of Jaemin’s confessions. Relationships were about giving and taking, and it seemed our balance was off.

It was time we switched roles. It was only fair if I tried to creep my way into his heart the way he had been wooing mine.

As soon as I cleaned up the apartment and pampered myself a little bit, I pulled out my phone, quickly texting Jaemin. Hopefully, he wasn’t that busy.

my love 💖 | 18:12 | U want to come over?

baNANA 🍓 | 18:16 | 😏

baNANA 🍓 | 18:16 | You miss me???

my love 💖 | 18:17 | 🤡 🤡 🤡 🤡 🤡

my love 💖 | 18:17 | nvm forget I asked

baNANA 🍓 | 18:17 | 😧 😧 😧

baNANA 🍓 | 18:18 | I’ll be in an hour

baNANA 🍓 | 18:18 | want me to bring anything?

my love 💖 | 18:19 | nah, just get your cute butt over here

baNANA 🍓 | 18:19 | ?????

baNANA 🍓 | 18:19 | are you high??

baNANA 🍓 | 18:19 | should I be concerned?

Okay, I had an hour to prepare something for our impromptu date. It was fine; it was more than enough than I needed. The apartment was already clean, so I just had to whip something to eat and cool the bubbles.

For some reason, I felt in a celebratory mood. Whatever tempo Jaemin and I had, it worked in two week periods. We had fake-dated for fourteen days before we called it quits. Then, we didn’t talk to each other for two weeks. Tonight another period came by, and I wanted to celebrate it, hoping to break the unfortunate chain of bad luck.

The alcohol was already in the refrigerator. Having put on an apron, I opened all the cabinets around the kitchen, quickly analyzing the ingredients and what I can make out of them. It wasn’t much, but pasta would have to be enough.

It wasn’t a fancy dish, but I was made it with love, so Jaemin shouldn’t have any complaints. Pouring my emotions into the pasta was to make it extra flavorful.

When the sauce was slowly cooking on the stove, I decorated the table. I wanted to provide Jaemin with some high-end restaurant experience despite being in my cramped apartment. It was the best thing out of two words; we had all privacy in the world offered by a homely atmosphere, but at the same time, we would eat some beautifully garnished food.

Just when I was about to drain the pasta, someone knocked on the doors.

“Coming,” I hollered before I put the pot in the sink, wiping my hands on the apron before making my way to answer the doors. “Hey there, beautiful,” I greeted Jaemin with a playful remark, standing on my toes to press a brief smooch on his adorable lips. It took him off guard, but in some sense, he liked it.

“Hey, it’s my line,” Jaemin nagged when his hands found purchase on my hips, bringing me closer for another kiss since one was never enough. “What do you have there? It smells delicious,” Jaemin turned his head, trying to peek inside to see what surprise I had prepared for him.

“You know, just some carbs,” I answered vaguely, sending him a playful smirk, not wanting to ruin the surprise. I wanted him to sit down at the table and wait for me to bring the whole dish and pour us some cheap champagne.

Jaemin took off his shoes, kicking them to the side. A second later, he handed me his coat, and I put it on the hanger. Jaemin was wearing a pair of gray jeans and a mint oversized hoodie, and I drooled over this comfortable look. He didn’t have to try hard to impress me.

“Just wait here. I’ll be back in a sec,” I spoke when I guided Jaemin to the table, forcing him to sit down in the chair. Jaemin wanted to help me out in the kitchen, but I firmly refused. Tonight I wished to impress Jaemin; he didn’t have to move a finger.

“I know it’s not much, but I hope you’ll still like it,” I whispered when I put a plate in front of him. “Dig in,” I added as I sat on the other side of the table, carefully trying to pop the champagne bottle open. Though I hated doing it, too afraid of breaking something or hurting someone, tonight I wanted to try it.

“What’s the occasion,” Jaemin wondered as he fondly watched me fight with the bottle. “Do you need some help? You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Jaemin offered, genuinely concerned about my safety. However, I just turned around, wanting to finish it by myself.

It took me good five minutes to pop it. And when I finally did it, Jaemin gave me a round of pitiful applause, officially declaring it’s his job from now on.

“It was just painful to watch,” Jaemin playfully commented, and I kicked his shin under the table, showing him how much appreciated his remark was. “So… what’s the occasion?”

“Do I really need to have a reason to spoil my boyfriend?” I innocently asked, batting my eyelashes, and Jaemin smiled at the word boyfriend. We had never discussed labels, but it was self-explanatory we were in a loving relationship. “I figured it’d be nice to give you some more attention,” I absentmindedly added as I reached for my phone to play some soft EDM music through the Bluetooth speaker.

“Is that it?” Jaemin wondered, gazing into my eyes, searching for any ulterior motive I might have. “Are you sure you’re not trying to butter me up before you say something I may not like? What did you do?” Jaemin inquired, and I chuckled loudly.

“Calm down, Na,” I spoke, making Jaemin look up at me once again. I only called him by his surname when I was extra affectionate, so he was curious what I was going to say. “I just wanted to hang out with you. That’s all,” I confessed, but Jaemin scrutinized his eyes, not really buying my innocent talk. “Okay, fine. There’s one more thing.”

“What is it?” Jaemin inquired, grinning at me.

“Can’t you already tell? I am trying to woo my way into your pants, duh,” I confessed, and Jaemin choked on his champagne as he did not expect this wording. “Your heart! I meant to say into your heart,” I corrected when I realized my little Freudian slip. “Wait, no, screw it. I second that. I want to get into both.”

“You’ve already got into one,” Jaemin declared with a lopsided smirk pinned to his face. “But... if you don’t suspect it already, you’re welcome in both,” he added mischievously, taking a sip of his alcohol. I, on the other hand, looked away, feeling the heat in my cheeks.

“Good to know.”

“Where are Jiwoo and Ten by the way?” Jaemin wondered as he looked around the apartment, finding it suspicious they didn’t crash our date yet. Under typical circumstances, Jiwoo or Ten would haul another chair to the table and steal the food, third-wheeling our date.

“Ten is at the dance studio. He’s having a dance competition next week, so he goes there every time he has some free time to practice. And Jiwoo is with Jaehyun. He came here to pick her up a few hours ago. I don’t think either of them is coming home anytime soon,” I explained, smirking. We had the place to ourselves.

Finally, we could bask in each other’s company without any intrusive guests.

“I’d like to cheers to that,” Jaemin raised his glass, clinking it gently against mine.

Having eaten the food, we moved to the couch.

“What now?” Jaemin asked as he stretched his arm, resting it on the back of the couch right over my shoulders.

“I have one more surprise,” I announced before I jumped to my feet. “Wait a second,” I added before bolting to my bedroom.

“What is it?” Jaemin inquired, having no clue what else I could surprise him with. “What do you have there?” He pressed, tilting his head to the side, trying to see what I was hiding behind my back.

“Let’s take some pictures,” I announced in excitement, showing him my Polaroid camera. “I finally bought some film, and I really want our photo in my wallet,” I added as I plopped down onto the couch, resting my head against Jaemin’s chest. “You take it,” I ordered, handing him the camera. After all, he was the prodigy of photography. Besides, his hands were longer than mine.

“I think that’s more than enough,” Jaemin spoke after snapping the twelfth picture.

Having put the camera on the coffee table, he wrapped his arms around me. Jaemin pulled me on his laps, embracing me tightly, placing a round of pecks against my temple.

“Wait! One more thing,” I hollered, leaning forward to reach for the envelope which was lying on the coffee table next to our photos.

“You can’t say it’s the last thing and then bring another one. That’s not how it works,” Jaemin nagged, a little flustered that I managed to find another excuse when he wanted to cuddle. “Who are you? A fitness instructor? When you say it’s the last one, it should be the last one. You can’t come up with new ones every three minutes.”

“I promise it’s the last one,” I sat cross-legged on the couch beside him, handing him the envelope. Cautiously, he pulled the card out of it, and I looked at him, studying his expression in excitement.

“Annoyingly, I like you way more than I’d originally planned,” Jaemin read the cover of the card, smiling widely at the passive-aggressive message. “It’s already good, and I didn’t even read what you wrote inside,” he commented before he leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “I don’t get it,” he added in confusion as he saw the blank page inside the card.

“It’s my love letter for you,” I clarified, but Jaemin was still clueless.

“It’s a blank page. You really have that little to say?” Jaemin asked, trying to make sense out of my card.

“That’s not how you were supposed to interpret that!” I yelled, climbing on his laps, wanting to tear the card out of his ungrateful hands. Unfortunately, Jaemin’s hands were longer than mine, so even when I was hovering over his thighs, I couldn’t reach it.

“How was I supposed to interpret that then?” Jaemin challenged, holding my hips, forcing them down on his laps.

“I wanted to write something meaningful, but I just couldn’t decide what. I have so many things I want to tell you, it wouldn’t even fit on the card,” I started, trying to find the best way to form a coherent sentence. “One way to interpret it is that you have to imagine it’s written in a very tiny font. Because I have so much to tell you, I wrote everything down, but you just can’t read it.”

“I like it,” Jaemin whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against my knuckles.

“Or you can say it’s blank because whenever I’m with you, my head is completely empty,” I added, chuckling at the corny confession. “Or you can assume there are no words to describe my feelings for you.”

“How is it possible that without writing anything, you managed to top all of my love letters?” Jaemin wondered, smiling at me. “What kind of sorcery is this?”

“No, Jaemin. You’re not giving yourself enough credit. I loved your love letters. They were silly, but at the same time, I could feel you really meant everything,” I reasoned, looking down at Jaemin’s lips, slowly leaning in for a delicate kiss.

“Okay, I have an idea,” Jaemin suddenly spoke as he grabbed my butt and threw me off his laps. “I need a pen,” he added, looking around the living room, finding the pen on the coffee table. In a hurry, he scribbled down something on the blank page of the card, making sure I couldn’t peek. “Here, I found my way to interpret it.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Jaemin answered confidently, handing me the card. “Read it out loud for me.”

“Okay, I guess,” I cleared my throat before I opened the card. “My beloved Jaemin,” I read, looking at Jaemin’s face with a raised eyebrow. This was going to be good.

“Carry on,” he urged, and I shook my head, unable to believe I was going to do it.

“You’re the most handsome man I have ever seen. You’re also the smartest and the funniest. Not to mention, you’re the best kisser in the world. What the fuck is this?” I interjected, having doubts, knowing it was a bad idea.

“Just keep reading, babe,” Jaemin ordered, wanting me to carry on with his antics. “Though you’re no poet, it’s, by a huge margin, the best love letter I have ever received,” he added, blowing his ego way out of proportion, and I rolled my eyes.

“Now, when I look at you, I understand there’s not a chance I wouldn’t fall for you. So, since there’s not much space left, I just wanna tell you that I love you. I really love you, Jaemin.”

Before I managed to complain that he forced me to say the L-word first, Jaemin interjected.

“Finally, took you long enough,” he teased, and I sighed, wondering where to hit him first. “As if you haven’t figured it out yet, I love you, too.”

“You’re impossible,” I commented, still not quite sure if we just confessed to each other.

“I’m impossible not to fall in love with,” Jaemin corrected, once again hauling me back on his laps, taking my breath away with a fervent kiss. “How about you show me how you want to get into my pants, babe?”

Having had enough of Jaemin’s teasing, I decided not to comply with his request.

“I think you should go.”

“You’re right,” Jaemin agreed too quickly, and it made me alert. “Let’s go to your room because once I start pounding into you, I will not stop even if a group of nuns was about to break in and steal all of your shit,” he added as he picked me up, carrying me to my bedroom.

“You’re impossible,” I repeated my words when Jaemin threw me onto my bed before he landed on it right beside me.

“I think we’ve already discussed this,” he remarked, reminding me of the remark he had given me earlier. “So… where were we?” Jaemin asked as he put his hand on my side, pulling me closer. Soon enough, his palm slipped under the hem of my shirt, caressing my skin.

“Is it weird that the only thing I can think about is you eating me out?” I wondered out loud, stripped of all remains of dignity. Jaemin was in my bed, and I was planning on taking full advantage of it.

“Not at all, love,” Jaemin replied, showing me his eager smile. Quickly, he sat on his calves between my legs, taking his time to take off my jeans. “I thought about eating you out way too often ever since that thing in the bathroom,” Jaemin confessed as he threw my jeans across the room.

Though my panties were still on, Jaemin began his teasing. His soft lips trailed across my thighs, driving me crazy. His lips touched every inch of my skin except for the area I wanted the most. At this point, my panties were dripping wet, yet he didn’t even think of pulling them to the side, giving attention to my much-ignored core.

“You’re killing me,” I whispered, slowly losing patience. If Jaemin kept up with his antics, I’d combust out of sexual frustration. “Bold of you to assume I won’t let you taste your own medicine,” I warned Jaemin. It worked because as soon as I voiced my mischievous threat, Jaemin’s finger hooked under the hem of my panties, quickly pulling them down my legs.

“You’re no fun at all,” Jaemin clarified before his lips finally landed on my clit, making me buckle my hips in an instant. Slowly, his mouth moved against my sweet spot, and I arched my back with each swirl of his tongue.

Though he barely started, I could feel the electricity coursing through my body. In my state of permanent frustration, it wouldn’t be difficult for Jaemin to make me come against his mouth.

Getting into it, Jaemin squeezed my hips, trying to keep me still when he ate me out. His jaw was dripping in my juices as he made his way down to lick my folds.

“Fuck,” I moaned loudly when Jaemin’s nose rubbed my clit when he was running his tongue all over my entrance. “I think I am gonna come,” I admitted what made Jaemin smirk through the kiss. Jaemin barely touched me, but I was already close.

“Come for me,” Jaemin urged, releasing my hips from his firm grip. Now when I could buckle my hips against his face, my orgasm was just seconds away. With my hand in his hair, I rocked my hips, basking in pleasure.

“I need your fingers,” I begged, and Jaemin quickly obeyed my shameful plea. I expected him to tease me further, denying me his long fingers, but he was kind enough to do anything to make me come.

Thanks to my juices and Jaemin’s saliva, his two fingers slid right in.

“Fuck,” I shouted at the top of my voice when the wave of pleasure shot right through me. Jaemin’s jaw still played with my clit as he continued his actions throughout the orgasm.

“You blew my mind, Jaemin,” I muttered after I regained my focus after he had made me come on his face. “I came so hard,” I confessed, smiling like an idiot. It was way too long ever since someone made me feel this good.

“You better get used to it because I am planning this to be a frequent occurrence,” Jaemin whispered, looking at my face as if it was an art piece. “Do you have condoms?” he casually asked as he pulled down his jeans. His erected cock was restrained in the denim fabric, and Jaemin needed to get rid of it.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” I replied as I opened the bedside table and threw a brand new package of condoms at Jaemin’s chest. “Jiwoo got me those after she walked on our pillow fight the other day. Apparently, she doesn’t want any cum stains on the couch.”

For a while, we were lying on the bed, staring at each other. Jaemin gave me some time to recover from my orgasm. According to him, I needed to take breaks because he didn’t want to over-stimulate me too soon.

“I really love you,” Jaemin confessed genuinely, and I quickly rolled closer to him, giving him another chase smooch. His confession was music to my ears, and I could listen to it on repeat without getting tired of it.

“I love you, too,” I quickly replied, leaning in for another kiss. With his hand on my cheek, he deepened the kiss, giving us another chance to get lost in the love trance.

Having thrown my leg over his hipbone, I hovered over his erection.

“Let me take care of you,” I said as I pulled away from the kiss. With a playful smirk upon my face, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. Slowly after, my bra followed suit, and Jaemin grunted upon seeing me completely naked in front of him.

“Sexy,” he purred before he eagerly took off his hoodie, throwing it onto the floor. “On a second thought, maybe you should put something on. You’re too sexy, and I’d like to last longer,” Jaemin explained, handing me his hoodie so I could cover myself up. “No, it’s even worse. Take it off,” he changed his mind after seeing me in his clothes.

Carefully, I pulled Jaemin’s boxers down his legs, letting his rock hard cock spring free. Biting on my lips, I grabbed his erection, giving it a few gentle strokes.

“Fuck it, I am ready,” Jaemin yelled, placing his hand over mine, making me stop. “You have all the time in the world to blow me. Right now, I want to feel you,” he added, quickly pulling out a condom from its packaging.

“Let me at least roll it down for you,” I offered, and Jaemin sighed, weighing his options.

“Nah, I am not willing to take that risk,” Jaemin answered, proceeding to wrap his cock by himself. “Now, come here, sit down on it,” he urged, and I shook my head. Smiling like an idiot, I guided his cock towards my entrance, slowly sinking down on his length.

“You’re good?” I asked, trying to guess what was going on inside his brain. Judging by his sour expression, he must’ve been thinking about something terrible in order to stop himself from coming too soon.

“Yes, everything’s cool,” he reassured, and I took it as permission to gently rock my hips back and forth. Whenever I moved, Jaemin kept grunting quietly. Apparently, he also suffered from sexual frustration.

My hands were wandering all over his muscular chest, admiring his athletic built. My hips were moving at a steady rhythm, but whenever I happened to increase the tempo, Jaemin would slow me down with a firm grip on my hips.

“If you keep doing that, I might spank you,” Jaemin warned me, but it only made me want to disobey more. “Why did I even expect you to be a good girl?” Jaemin asked, rolling his eyes.

“Spank me,” I ordered, trying my best not to chuckle. “I dare you,” I added, pushing the right buttons. “Like that,” I moaned when Jaemin’s hand collided against my butt, shaking me with newfound excitement.

“You’re impossible,” Jaemin comment, still in shock after discovering how much into spanking I happened to be.

“I’m impossible not to fall in love with,” I remarked, using Jaemin’s own words against him.

Unable to handle my teasing, Jaemin sat up. “I love you so much,” Jaemin stated once again before he looked at my lips, kissing them. Now, when I was distracted by his tongue, it was easier for him to control my movement.

In our upgraded position, I significantly slowed down. Carefully, I moved up and down Jaemin’s cock, while he sneaked his hand between our entangled bodies, rubbing my clit. I was close, and I was about to come again.

I didn’t know what he was so self-conscious about. No doubt I would come first.

“Jaemin, I am coming,” I breathed out, messing up my rhythm. It was difficult to maintain the same tempo when Jaemin was playing with my clit. Jaemin’s lips moved down my neck, finding a perfect spot on my collarbone to leave a hickey.

“Me, too,” Jaemin whispered as he began thrusting from underneath me, now desperate to push the both of us off the edge. “You’re so tight, fuck,” he cursed as my walls started to swell around his throbbing cock.

Jaemin moaned against my skin, muffling his sinful sounds. I, on the other hand, screamed Jaemin’s name at the top of my voice, telling everybody in the world he was the person, making me feel this good.

Having fallen onto the sheets, we looked into each other’s eyes. We were panting as if we just ran a marathon. Not that I had any doubts, but Jaemin turned out to be a passionate lover, and it made me love him even more.

“You’re beautiful,” Jaemin complimented me, staring at my face in utter admiration. “I am so lucky,” he added, and I moved closer, snuggling up to him. It was still early, but I was so fucked out, I could fall asleep right there in his arms.

Having pulled me closer to his chest, Jaemin threw a duvet over our sweaty bodies. His fingers were tracing shapes on my shoulder when he pressed yet another peck against my temple.

“Are you down for another round?” Jaemin asked as he discarded the full condom. His cock was still semi-hard. In a few minutes, Jaemin would be ready for some more. “It’s cool if you’re not,” he added, trying not to put any pressure on me.

“I want you to do me all night,” I confessed, looking over my shoulder at the clock. It’s only 8 pm, and I could stay up till daylight with Jaemin.

“Do you want to go bowling tomorrow?” Jaemin asked, and I eagerly nodded. It was fun the last time I had joined the boys on their monthly trip to the bowling alley. Besides, I would be the first woman to break the unfortunate one-time-only curse. I couldn’t wait to show up two months in a row.

“I’d love that,” I answered, snuggling closer to Jaemin’s side.

In content, we basked in happiness until Jaemin regained enough energy to go for the third time. However, this time around, it was slow and steamy. Under the covers, Jaemin crawled on top of me, kissing every inch of my body.

“Do you want to roll it down on me? I think I can handle that,” Jaemin asked, and I reached for the condom, carefully rolling it down his length. “I wish I could fuck you without one, though,” he added, and I flicked his forehead, making him whine. “I’ll pull out.”

“I trust you, but it’s still a no from me,” I replied, guiding his cock into my entrance. Inch by inch, Jaemin pushed himself all the way in. “You fill me up so well,” I praised, purring into his ear. “I love your cock.”

Distance between our bodies was practically nonexistent. Jaemin was slowly snapping his hips, rubbing his pelvic bone against my clit, turning me into a moaning mess. I wouldn’t be surprised if my neighbors called the police because of all the noise coming from my bedroom.

“One day, you’ll let me fuck you raw. I’ll make sure you do,” Jaemin carried on, and I hissed, feeling the approaching orgasm. I didn’t even bother to comment on Jaemin’s statement. I was whipped for him. I knew I wasn’t able to maintain my assertive stance for long. Eventually, I’d cave in, letting him fuck me without a condom. It wasn’t today, though.

“In your dreams, lover boy,” I answered, but Jaemin just giggled, knowing I wasn’t serious.

“You have no idea how many times we’ve done it raw in my dreams,” Jaemin confessed as he picked up his pace, pounding into my pussy, making me moan at the sudden speed. “One day, I’ll tell you all about my fantasies, but right now, I really want this pussy to cream around my cock,” he added, his filthy words making my walls squeeze around his length.

“You wait until I tell you mine,” I challenged with a smirk. If Jaemin thought he was the only one with a dirty mind, he was seriously mistaken. While most of my fantasies were PG-13, there was still a large portion of naughty scenarios. Now, when Jaemin and I were finally together, it would be fun to try to recreate at least some of them.

“You better come because I can’t go much longer,” Jaemin warned me, pounding in and out, chasing his own release. “Fuck,” he yelled, falling on top of me as he shot his load into the condom. His cock twitched inside of me as he moved slowly, riding out his orgasm.

“Jaemin,” I hollered, coming undone underneath him. Despite the other peaks, this orgasm hit me the hardest. For a brief second, my vision turned black as I gave in to the pleasure.

Breathlessly, I lay in the sheets, slowly descending from my high.

“I think all I can do tonight is cuddle,” I commented, feeling too fucked out to engage in any other form of affection. “I don’t think I can walk.”

“It’s okay. I can carry you around the house,” Jaemin answered, finding a solution for my problem. Having pulled his limp cock out of me, Jaemin rolled down another condom, putting it aside.

“What is it?” Jaemin asked as he heard a noise from the living room.

“It sounded as if someone was knocking on the doors,” I spoke, trying to identify the sound. “It must be a courier for Jiwoo. She keeps ordering stuff online. It’s probably the late evening delivery she forgot about. Can you get it?”

“No problem, babe,” Jaemin answered as he put on his jeans, walking around the bed to answer the door.

At first, I wanted to wait for Jaemin in bed. However, it’s been like three minutes, and he didn’t come back, so I found it weird.

Having put on Jaemin’s hoodie and a pair of leggings, I made my way out of the room.

Jaemin was standing by the doors, looking inside a plastic bag. Whatever it was, it smelled like Thai food. Unfortunately, it didn’t explain anything. We were here alone, and we didn’t order anything.

Just when I was about to open my mouth and ask Jaemin what the hell was going on, Ten walked out of his room. It was strange, but I saw him leave, and I didn’t hear him come back.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked angrily, trying to hide my embarrassment. If he was here the whole time, he must’ve heard us having sex.

“I live here, duh,” Ten answered matter-of-factly, choosing not to give me the explanation which I desperately needed. “I think it’s mine,” Ten spoke as he walked up to Jaemin to take his Thai takeout.

Although Jaemin and I were standing in the living room in complete consternation, Ten didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. In front of his bedroom, Ten stopped in his tracks, turning his head to face me.

“Congratulations, by the way,” Ten spoke, making me even more embarrassed. “Three times, wow. It’s impressive. Don’t fuck this up, dear. He’s a keeper,” Ten added, sending me a playful wink before he disappeared inside his room.

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mytrashs-blog · 2 years

Text

Cruel Summer- Part 1. Getaway Car

-"It was the best of times, the worst of crimes I struck a match and blew your mind But I didn't mean it And you didn't see it The ties were black, the lies were white..."

Part 2. Holy Ground

It was a terrible situation, really. But she was not about to throw away the last few days of her life being her own; not when Tom was right there, looking dashing as ever and staring right into her eyes with his beautiful brown eyes and that smile that could easily bring the Queen of England herself to her knees and give him everything he wants. The biggest problem is that she wanted to give him everything he asked of her, and he wanted her, all of her; and that was exactly what she could not give him. Not now, not ever. Not anymore.

When this whole shit show came down on Amelia, she decided to just ignore it and keep on going with her life as if nothing had happened, but things seemed so far away two years ago, and now they’re literally one week away and she needed to start facing them.

Then there is also the fact that she and Tom have been very close for at least the last four years, and though things have never been serious, it was the most stable relationship in her life and she would never admit it out loud, but he is the only person she’s ever loved in her 24 years of life and she was having a hard time coming to terms with letting him go.

Every time she’s tried to explain the situation to Tom, she would get too cowardly and say something completely different or change the subject; and right now, with him naked in his room, right in his bed, she knows she has to tell him.

“Tommy… I need to tell you something.” Amelia said in a serious tone while getting up from the bed to avoid his eyes..

“Yeah, Ames, shoot!”, he said while doing the same and finding his jeans.

He looked at Amelia like he does when he’s ready to drop everything just to listen. He really is the kind of person that gives his undivided attention to whoever is talking to make them feel comfortable and listened to. It drove her up the wall… why can’t he be a little mean? Everyone's a little mean. That’s just the normal. But Tom Holland is everything, except for normal.

“I… I, umh…” she stopped for a second just to evaluate her situation. “I just wanted to tell you that…” Shit, why is it so hard to just say it?!

“Do you want to run away with me for the weekend?” Fuck.

Why didn’t she tell him? He’s gonna find out anyway and the later he finds out, the more he’s gonna hate her and she’s really gonna lose him.

But a getaway weekend would be nice, right?

“Really?! Amelia Hicks… Are you kidding me? Tell me this isn’t an evil joke of yours please, love!”

Well.. not a joke, but it’s definitely evil.

“No, it 's not! I’m serious!”

Kind of.

“Oh my God! Yes! Let’s go! Where are we going? Can I bring my guitar?”

Shit.

“We can roadtrip to a cabin in the woods. And baby.. How are you supposed to get better at playing guitar if not by playing it? Or course you can take it.” She told him while putting her hands on his shoulders and pecking his lips.

Well… now she really needs to book a fucking cabin in the middle of the fucking forest.

Driving away from the city with Tom at a moment like this, when her father, her mother and pretty much everyone in her family was pressuring her to assume the situation she was in, truly felt like running away from a crime scene with all the money and a stolen car to start over.

But even with Tom singing to the top of his lungs to every tune and making her laugh all the time, she couldn't help but remember this was the last time they’d be able to run away and just be happy together. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind and decided to just go with it.

Looking at him from her seat, she remembered the first time they met. It was at one of those absurd parties her father throws in the name of charity (even though he gets more money for himself than the amount he gives to charity), and Tom was promoting one his first projects and went along with the producer to get some pull on some rich guy to get it to more places and it would make more money. Rich people really suck.

So he was basically there as a boy toy. And she was there because she was required to humor her father’s guests, so she was also there as a toy for everyone else to enjoy.

A few hours into the party, when all her dad’s friends had forgotten that she was about 30 years younger than them, she decided to run away and hide in her dad’s studio, but Tom was already in the room, sitting by the window, looking into the garden and absently humming a tune while fidgeting with his fingers.

Amelia apologized and tried to leave, but he insisted she’d stay. They stayed quiet for a while, but Tom (being absolutely on character) quickly started talking to her when he sensed she was mortified and scared; she told her everything about the night and he told her too, and after hooking up right there and then, they remained really good friends… but neither of them ever wanted to be just that.

Tom has loved her since he first laid eyes on her. More or less. He was intrigued the second she walked past him in the party. She was wearing a tight silky black dress that hugged her body in the perfect way, her back was exposed, as her hair rested on one of her shoulders. He saw her walking and laughing with some older men and he thought he’d never had a chance, which intensified when he found out she was the daughter of the scary businessman hosting the event.

But then she walked into the studio where he was hiding from everyone, his social battery had run out and he needed to be alone and be himself for a little, he wanted to dance around and do something freeing, but he was wearing a suit, so he settled with humming and fidgeting for a bit by the window. She was looking like a deer in front of headlights. Scared, anxious and like she needed to be anywhere else but there.

He thought she’d be completely different than she is when he started making conversation with her to calm her down, but instead of finding a submissive, empty headed fortune heir; he found a strong, sarcastic and intelligent woman that wanted nothing to do with her own family, but she’s always been too scared to confront her father, so he’s had to sit and watch her give her life away to her father’s desires instead of following her dreams.

That’s the most frustrating thing he has had to endure since meeting her.

Neither of them ever thought that a casual hookup in a desk would end up with both of them in a car, four years later, going away for an entire weekend of them just being them and enjoying each other. They were still kind of teenagers when they met, barely 20 and trying to find their place in this world, and though he’s still trying to find his, she can’t bring herself to accept hers… it just feels like she never even had the chance to look for something that she wanted to do, something she was passionate about; she was given a place in this world like she was given everything else she’s ever had: not deserving it, not wanting it, but wrapped in a pretty bow and handed on a silver platter.

Having to hide things from Tom and blatantly lie to his face for the last two years has been hard and heartbreaking for Amelia. She knows he deserves the truth, he deserves a chance to start building a life after her, to start flying away like the free spirit he is. And it’s not that she didn’t want to tell him, but she always thought that he would do something crazy to try and get her out of the situation, but her father is way too rich and way too powerful, not to be dramatic, but he could have Tom mysteriously disappearing and found dead in a heartbeat; she wasn’t risking it.

Then there’s the fact that she needs a distraction from everything else and love has proven to be the best solution for all the shit she goes through every single day at her house. He is her home. She doesn’t want to lose that just yet. So she figured she’ll tell him when the trip is over. Just in case.

Getting to the cabin was a bit harder than she anticipated, but once they got there (only three hours later than they were supposed to) it was all worth it. The place looked extremely cozy even from the outside; it was right in front of a small lake, but it also had a big green area leading to it, where there were a few benches to sit and take the view in, as well as a fire pit to stay warm at night.

The little house had a porch with a table and rocking chairs to chill on the right side, but to the left there was a hammock that Tom was already looking at and Amelia just knew he’d be spending a few hours playing with it. The flowers and plants framing the house went along perfectly with the huge trees all over the woods and made the place look like a home, rather than a random cabin in the middle of nowhere.

The windows were huge, so they were not surprised to see the place was naturally super bright inside, but there was nothing even remotely near them, so it didn’t feel like they were exposed at all. As they opened the door, they were greeted with a set of huge couches around a rustic looking fireplace, the kind that’s made of stone and had pictures of animals on the shelves above it. In the center of it all there was a soft and fuzzy rug and a wooden coffee table, there was also a TV and other electronics in the living room, which sort of threw off the rustic vibes, but that’s fine.

The kitchen was super simple and it led directly to the dining area which had a big and thick wooden table and some equally big chairs all around. Everything in the cabin was made of wood. From the walls to the cabinets and all, the three rooms were also decked in wooden bed frames and bedside tables, the whole place had a very specific aesthetic, and though Amelia wasn’t sure she liked it or not, she appreciated the consistency. It was cozy and nice and she definitely wasn’t expecting much more given the fact that she booked it last minute and this was the best she could find.

They left their stuff in the room before going downstairs to have some dinner and before she knew it, Tom was lighting the fire pit and trying to figure out a particularly hard set of chords on his guitar… and he was not succeeding, by the looks of it.

Tom Holland is not the kind of person to remain fully clothed for too long and with the summer breeze hitting just right, his shirt disappeared pretty quickly. And Amelia Hicks is not the kind of person to let Tom get undressed and not do the same shortly after him. But to be honest, that lake was looking especially tempting with the sunset and the weather; she just needed to throw a cheeky look at Tom for him to understand what was on her mind.

They took the rest of their clothes off and a minute later they were jumping into the lake butt naked; sure they swam for a little bit and had a little fun, but as the light went dimmer, they swam closer to each other. Amelia’s hands instinctively wrapped themselves around Tom’s waist when he grabbed the back of her neck to passionately kiss her.

Kissing Tom, Amelia thought, was always a comforting feeling, she could always count on him to make life spin a little slower. With his hands moving to her butt, she went to put hers around his neck so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. His mouth quickly moved from her lips down to her neck, finding that sweet spot that just ignited the rest of their nightly activities.

They collapsed on the bed for a little after they regained full consciousness and evened out their breathing, but since Tom started feeling a little sleepy, he got up from the bed and got himself a pair of briefs to sleep in. Amelia didn’t take long before getting ready for bed herself, after taking a quick trip to the toilet. She put on a simple pajama set and cuddled up to Tom’s chest, who fell asleep almost instantly.

Amelia, on the other side, couldn’t help but let her thoughts run wild, so she was having a hard time trying to fall asleep.

It’s just… she wished things were different, that they were better so she could stay right there and then with the one man she’s ever loved.

But it was bound to break.

After this weekend, she would run away again and leave him forever. She needed to break his heart and accept her fate, she couldn’t help but shed a few tears as she thought about this mess of a situation.

The fact that somewhere very far from this little fantasyland she created, her mother and father are finishing setting up her wedding to a man she’s seen twice in her life, but he’s the son of her father’s biggest business partner and they need to have this sort of arrangement to bring their two companies together.

Her heart keeps breaking as she listens to Tom’s breathing. He looks so peaceful, like there’s nothing he has to worry about. That’s how people who own their life sleep at night, but she doesn’t own hers; she can only steal these little moments and run away. Like she did four years ago to McDonald’s at 3 a.m. with Tom. Like she did today to the middle of the woods to steal the last three days of her life being hers.

They were right when they said nothing good starts in a getaway car, that much she was certain of.

I hope you enjoyed this baby! I will try to post the next chapter as soon as posible but do keep in mind that I'm an adult and have adult responsabilities and I can't always attend to my little blog that I love so much.

Please reblog this if you want me to post the whole fic!

Tagging people for the exposure!

@caeruleum-in-caritate-lupus, @softstarkk, @peterparkerbabyy, @dottirose, @legit-fandom-trash, @carostar2020, @appreciating-chase-brody, @mvmakki @madmadmilk @hollandrecs @starksparker @sunshinehollandd

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aph-english-rose · 3 years

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Office Talk

So I originally wrote this fic for usuk week but was completely swamped with work and missed it. I’ve decided that instead of leaving it completed but abandoned that I’ll post even though the event it was intended for has been and gone.

This was inspired by the 2021 usuk week prompt for day 1: Rumours!

Paring: USUK

Words: 2711

Summary: Arthur has been the centre of many rumours since taking on the role of personal assistant. However, the most recent rumour floating around the office appears to be based upon more than just gossip.

You can also read it on AO3 or on FF.Net

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Arthur knew that something was off the moment he walked into the break room. Francis was lingering suspiciously beside the kettle in the corner, his lower back resting against the countertop. His fingertips were wrapped around an obnoxiously coloured reusable coffee cup, eyes staring off into the distance until he heard Arthur enter.

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t the man himself,” He remarked as Arthur approached him.

Naturally, Francis - being the irritating twit that he was – had positioned himself awkwardly in front of the kettle, the only thing Arthur needed to use in the entire breakroom. Francis never attempted to move out his way, watching in amusement as Arthur struggled around him. He barely even flinched when Arthur ‘accidentally’ elbowed him on the back of the head as he pulled out two reusable cups in monotone colours and set them on the counter.

“Are you planning to move at all?” Arthur huffed, a scowl forming on his face as he flicked the kettle to boil. Francis merely smirked at him from behind his coffee cup and took a loud slurp of his drink. Arthur felt his left eye twitch. Although he knew Francis was simply playing and meant no harm, the Frenchman knew full well what tiny little things made Arthur’s teeth grind. Knowing that Francis had no intentions of moving, Arthur worked around him, reaching across the counter for a tea bag and placing it in one of the cups along with two spoonsful of sugar. In the other, Arthur poured the perfect amount of coffee granules.

“You’re the talk of the office this morning you know.”

“Why? What have I done this time?” Arthur asked, squeezing himself into the tiny gap Francis had left for him where the corners of the countertops met. He mirrored Francis’ stance, his back leaning against the counter and his arms folded against his chest as the kettle whistled away behind him. They were unnecessarily close, their arms pressed against each other, but neither made the motion to shuffle up and make more space. If Francis wanted to play this game, then Arthur was happy to oblige. Besides, in a battle such as this both knew Arthur was the most stubborn and wouldn’t back down. Arthur knew that eventually Francis would lose interest. Luckily, being this close didn’t bring much discomfort. Arthur had known Francis since they were teenagers. They had grown up together and as a much as they enjoyed winding each other up, Arthur knew it was merely playful banter and that Francis genuinely cared about him.

“There is a rather juicy rumour floating around.”

“How lovely.”

“Even I am starting to wonder if it’s true and you know I’m not one for rumours.”

Arthur snorted a laugh, turning to make his drinks as soon as the kettle had come to boil. Arthur didn’t believe Francis for a single second. Francis was the biggest gossiper in the entire office. The only reason Arthur knew half the employees in the building was because of Francis and his inability to stay quiet. He thrived off the tales, bouncing from one person to another until he had heard all sides of story. Only then, when he had figured out the facts, did he pester Arthur with the information. Sometimes Arthur wondered if he was in the wrong career. Surely someone with such skills would make an impressive investigator.

“Of course not. Are you going to tell me this rumour or am I going to find out from Linda when she comes to clean up this evening?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you. I’m just not sure you’re going to like what you hear with this one.”

That made Arthur’s curiosity tingle. A rumour about him that he wouldn’t like? How interesting. Arthur had been the subject of many rumours during his time in the office, all of which were utterly ridiculous and contained no ounce of truth to them. The previous rumour that had involved Arthur claimed he were a vampire enslaved by his boss to carry out his orders. It was so absurd that he and Francis had cried laughing for hours to a point where Arthur was concerned that he would have to ring an ambulance.

However, this time, Francis appeared cautious. Had he already figured out the facts and concluded that Arthur would react negatively to such rumours floating around? It made Arthur’s thoughts race, sifting through his previous schedule for something out of the ordinary for such rumours to spark. Had he acted differently whilst on shift? Had someone caught him talking to himself? Surely not. Arthur’s one-way conversations were always contained to the privacy of his office or an empty elevator. The most that Arthur ever did whilst at work was go up and down in elevators for coffee breaks, answer the constantly ringing phone, book appointments and sift through thousands upon thousands of emails.

“I’m listening,” Arthur said as he finished making the drinks. Once again, he worked around Francis, returning everything to their rightful positions and throwing the spoon he had used into the sink to wash later. Once the coffee cup lids had been clicked into place, Arthur carefully gathered them into his hands. They were pleasantly warm, the reusable cups doing their job at holding in the heat so Arthur could carry them without fear of burning himself.

“Well,” Francis started as they left the break room together. “Gilbert told me, that Erzsébet told him, that she heard from Emma, that Michelle saw you down at that Italian place with the big boss last night.”

Arthur almost spat out the sip of tea he had taken. He spluttered as he struggled to swallow the hot liquid, glaring at Francis as he harshly pounded his back. When Arthur finally felt like he could breathe again, he jabbed an elbow into Francis’ side to stop him from hitting him again. He was cautiously aware of the way the boiling drinks his hands were sloshing around in their cups, waiting for the opportune moment to spill all over him.

Arthur out on a date? With their boss of all people? How ludicrous. Arthur desperately tried to prevent the heat rising to his cheeks, taking a steadying breath in an attempt to slow his quickening heart rate.

“How utterly ridiculous.”

“Were you?”

“Are you honestly asking me that?”

“You know as well as I that Michelle isn’t usually the type to start rumours.”

“Perhaps she’s turned over a new leaf.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Francis gave him a stern look that told Arthur he wouldn’t rest until his questions were answered. Looking down the hall ahead, Arthur saw the elevator and immediately his strides grew faster.

“Francis, I’m Alfred’s personal assistant. I am paid to follow him around, schedule his day and generally do as he asks. The only way I would voluntarily spend time with him outside of business hours were if the bloke were to pay me a hefty sum of money,” He explained, watching as Francis kindly pressed the elevator button for him.

“I had to ask!” Francis grinned, holding up the single hand that wasn’t holding his cup in innocence. The gentle ping of the elevator arriving on their floor sounded like music to Arthur’s ears, the doors opening slowly and revealing it to be empty. Arthur felt like he had been blessed. Drinks in hand, Arthur backed into the elevator and quirked a suspicious eyebrow at Francis who remained where he was.

“Of course you did. Oh, tell Gilbert, Erzsébet, Emma and Michelle to stop gossiping and get on with their work. Alfred doesn’t pay them to sit around and spread rumours about his assistant.”

“But gossiping is so fun!” Francis pouted, blue eyes watching as Arthur jabbed a finger into the elevator panel, signalling his exit. “It makes my day go faster. Plus, I’m not sure I believe you anyway. Your cheeks are red and you have your liar face on.”

“Goodbye Francis,” Arthur smirked, holding up one of the cups in a gesture of farewell as the doors began to close. He could see the way Francis narrowed his eyes at him, uncertain of the truth within the rumour.

As soon as the doors clinked closed and the elevator began to rise, Arthur let out a long sigh. What a morning it had been so far. The elevator took him up several floors uninterrupted. Arthur was thankful for the peace and quiet. When it arrived on the correct floor, the familiar ping sounded, and the doors opened slowly this time onto an extremely quiet floor of the building.

Arthur stepped out and made his way down the hallway ahead. Looking down at the carpet, he was surprised he hadn’t worn it out by the number of times he passed this way. He felt as if this route around the office was programmed into his brain.

Ever aware of the increasing warmth in his hands, Arthur passed by the door with his name etched into the silver plague and continued down the hall. At the very end stood a smart looking door, a golden plague shimmering on its front with the words ‘Alfred F Jones, CEO’ engraved into it.

Polite as ever, he stopped outside and tapped on the door with his elbow. When a quiet ‘come in’ came from inside, Arthur once again relied on his elbow to press down on the handle and open the door. It swung inwards into a large spacious room. The first thing that Arthur noticed was the view, one of the walls on the right made completely of floor to ceiling glass overlooking the bustling city below. On a clear day like today, it was easy to see off into the distance and spot the towering mountains littering the skyline.

“You took your time,” said a voice. Arthur rolled his eyes and closed the door with his foot, heading in the direction of the desk on the left of the room, situated opposite the breath-taking view.

The desk was long and neatly organised with all the essentials one would need to run a business smoothly. A fancy computer screen was angled on the desk as to not block the view and a neatly stapled booklet of paper that had once lay prominent on the desk was being shuffled into a brown file out of sight from wondering eyes. In front of the desk were two comfortable looking chairs, angled perfectly to face its centre and readily awaiting use when the next private meeting came around.

“I was harassed by a certain Frenchman,” Arthur replied, weaving around the chair, and handing one of the cups across the desk to its eagerly awaiting owner.

Alfred was slouched in the comforts of his desk chair. The collar of his dress shirt had been unbuttoned, his tied slackened to lay lazily against his chest and the jacket of his suit hung smartly across the back of his chair. He smiled as he leant forward and took the cup from Arthur, beautiful blue eyes seeming to sparkle at him from behind the silver frame of his glasses.

“Thanks,” he said before taking a long, clearly needed, gulp of his coffee. He hummed at the taste; eyeing Arthur as he set the cup onto a designated coaster. Arthur copied his movements, taking a quick drink of his still boiling hot tea before placing the cup on the other unoccupied coast beside Alfred’s. “What did he want?”

“To inform me of another delightful rumour.”

“Let me guess, you’re secretly a spy trying to infiltrate my company?” Alfred grinned, relaxing back into his chair with his hands resting behind his head. Arthur’s green eyes followed the way his shirt pulled taught, begging to be untucked from his waistband.

“Oh, I’m most definitely a spy,” Arthur smirked playfully, walking around the desk.

“I knew it!” Alfred laughed, pushing his chair back away from the desk and opening his arms in Arthur’s direction. The Brit took the invitation with no hesitation, walking straight to Alfred and perching comfortably in his lap. The CEO hoisted Arthur up, throwing his legs over the arms of the chair on one side. With one arm comfortably secured around Arthur’s back and the other settled across his waist, Alfred’s hands clasped together to engulf Arthur in his warm embrace.

“Apparently I was spotted down at Vargas’ place on a date with the big boss last night.”

“Oh, really?”

“Uh-hm.”

“And what did you say?” Alfred mumbled as he pressed his nose into the crook of Arthur’s neck. Arthur’s eyes instinctually fluttered closed as he felt Alfred’s lips caress his skin, trailing sweet kisses from the crook of his neck to the base of his ear.

“I said that the boss would have to pay me quite the sum of money if he wanted me to spend time with him outside of work.”

“How much we talking?”

Arthur turned his head to face Alfred when he pulled away. Their faces were mere inches apart, Alfred’s breath dancing across his skin. Alfred had his eyebrow quirked as if genuinely curious.

“Thousands, perhaps even millions.”

“Ah, well, I’ll gladly pay you millions in kisses,” Alfred whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Arthur’s lips. Arthur found his arms reaching up to entangle themselves around Alfred’s neck, pulling him closer when the other tried to pull away. Arthur grumbled an incoherent grunt that sounded somewhere along the lines of ‘not yet’ before dragging Alfred back in for another, much longer kiss. Alfred’s arms held him tight, his hand coming to rest on Arthur’s hip and rub tingling circles through the fabric of his clothes.

“This is why you’re the centre of all these rumours,” Alfred whispered between kisses until Arthur was satisfied and pulled back.

“Shut up,” He huffed, turning his head so Alfred was left once again kissing the side of his head. “It’s not my fault. You’re just as clinging – if not more so when we are at work!”

“Hey, I’m the boss I can do what I like.”

“I know, that’s why you’re never the one covering off these bloody rumours.”

“Who started it?”

“Michelle apparently, although I’m not sure I believe that,” Arthur explained, looking over to the windows and admiring the view. Would Michelle really waste her time ensuring a rumour about him made its way around the office?

“Why not? She looks like the gossiping type.”

“I’m pretty sure Francis is onto us. In fact, I don’t believe there is a rumour at all. I think Francis just needed an excuse to ask me himself without doing so directly.”

Alfred laughed at that, nuzzling his nose affectionately against Arthur’s hair until he turned back around.

“Sounds like a Francis thing to do. To be honest, I did think I saw him last night.”

“What?!” Arthur’s eyebrows immediately fell into a default scowl, searching Alfred’s eyes for signs that he was lying. If Francis really had been there at the Vargas restaurant, then he knew for certain that everything Arthur had told him downstairs was a lie. Was he waiting for Arthur to come clean and tell him the truth personally?

“Hey, it was for a brief second! I just saw a flash of blond hair from behind a plant – it could have been anyone! Wait - where are you going?”

Before Alfred could even finish his sentence, Arthur was out the door. It took him a record amount of time to bypass the elevator, race down the stairs and hunt down Francis. Arthur had known him for long enough. He knew his games – he knew their games. On many occasions in their youth Arthur had been the one undercover, hiding behind the plant and spying on Francis to ensure his date was going well.

Sure enough, Francis was in his office. He was sat casually at his desk, a light glow cast across his features from the computer screen in front of him. Sat prominently on his desk was the same obnoxious cup from earlier. He seemed startled by Arthur’s sudden intrusion, locking his computer quickly.

Arthur said nothing, watching Francis squirm under his gaze as the office door clicked locked behind him.

“YOU SNEAKY, RUMOUR STARTING, NOSY TWAT!”

#Hetalia #APH #usuk #Fanfiction #APH Fanfiction #My Writing #APH America #APH England #APH France #Alfred F Jones #Arthur Kirkland #I hope yall enjoy reading it #am i nervous about this yes yes i am

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jaywritings · 3 years

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The Magical Talisman

~ Translation of Lila Majumder's Bengali short story 'Shorboneshe Maduli'

When school reopened after the summer vacation, we were all flabbergasted to see Gupe, our friend, come to school with a talisman tied to his right arm. It was tied a little over the elbow, the shining spotless talisman, with the help of a dirty red thread. At first I thought it was made of gold, it was so shiny, but later Gupe informed me that it was made of lead. It had turned all shiny due to sweat, he said.

During lunch break I asked him, “What is it for, Gupe?”. In reply he told the most absurd story ever.

Apparently, when his grandfather was his age, one morning he woke up and found a bright, shining, pure black feather of a crow under his pillow. At first, he was tremendously happy. He felt that it will be great to make a quill out of the crow feather and write long letters to his friends. Then he got frightened. What a calamity! You should never touch a crow, it eats all sorts of rubbish, how did its feather turn up under his pillow? Before anybody saw anything he threw it away through the window.

But of all things that could have happened, again tomorrow morning he woke up and found a crow’s feather under his pillow. Now there is no suspicion at all, there’s even an obvious dirty crow-crow smell.

From then afterwards, Gupe’s grandfather became a pure vegetarian, shaved off his hair, returned the neighbour’s tree-shaving scissors after six whole months, and bathed in the Ganges.

After he finished his bath, he got out and noticed a sage standing at the bank of the river, smiling at him. He was clad in orange robes from head to toe, with a religious mark in his forehead and a great black knot on his head. Gupe’s grandfather bowed towards him. Immediately, the sage tied a talisman with the help of a red thread around the part over Gupe’s grandfather’s right elbow. Then he stroked his shoulder fondly, saying kindly, “From now onwards, you no longer have anything to be afraid of, my son. All the beasts and thieves will pass aside.”

The stroking was rather tickling Gupe’s grandfather, but he ignored it and said doubtfully, “Are you quite sure, sir?”

The sage became somewhat startled by the tone of Gupe’s grandfather’s voice. He brought out a thread-tied glasses from his bag, wore it, and peered at Gupe’s grandfather. He jumped with shock.

“Aeee, what is this! Who are you?! I thought you were Poltu Zamindar! It was him I had to give the talisman to! Give it back, son, it’s not for you.”

But who listens. Who will lose this lifetime opportunity? Has anyone ever given Gupe’s grandfather something this special? He lifted his dhoti and ran away as fast as he could.

When he came home he looked in surprise at the mango tree in the neighbourhood; the tree whose ripe mangoes all with their branches had reached completely over their house’s terrace. Since it was their neighbour, Nepal, who had planted that tree, they hadn’t had the courage to pluck out the fruits from the branches, even though it was tantalizingly in reach. But now all the mangoes had strewn themselves across the floor of the terrace. It was also noticed that since dawn, cold fresh water was coming from the new well. The net which Felada had submerged in the pond at night was granted with a huge fish. One of Gupe’s grandfather’s friends had borrowed five rupees from him last year, today he returned it. Over that, there was a feast thrown in Sunday afternoon. Everybody’s smiling in the house, even his grim grandmother.

Grandfather was astounded at the power of the talisman. He silently payed his respects towards the sage a thousand times over.

From then onwards, the house started having all the good luck in the world. There was money, there was a huge amount of cattle, the boys got big important jobs, the girls were married off to important, rich, respectful families. Once Gupe was telling this story of all these magical turn of events at his uncle’s house, and getting all excited while narrating, he ended up tearing six pages of the twentieth book of the Goosebumps Series.

Gupe ended the anecdote by saying seriously, “This is the very same talisman. For forty years and a month it was tied to my grandfather’s arm, he had never once opened it. There’s a white mark on his arm now that he has opened it, he told me that he had been wearing the talisman for so long that it almost become part of his skin, the talisman itself sometimes tickled and had to be scratched!”

According to Gupe, when he had ardently nagged to his grandfather that he will neither apply oil, neither bathe, neither eat, if he wouldn’t give him the talisman, Gupe’s grandfather had immediately tied the talisman around his grandson’s arm. Gupe had also added that even if he ate something, he will eat so less that after some days he will become very hungry, and his arms and legs will start shaking, froth will come out of his mouth, his eyes will turn over—Gupe had said this much, when his grandfather tweaked his own ears and immediately tied the talisman to Gupe’s arm.

Gupe found out that the talisman was as powerful as ever. In half an hour, his uncle’s fountain pen’s nib had broken, and Gupe was given it. Even though later Gupe’s uncle had asked him for the pen; that was the very reason Gupe had left his uncle’s house even with still two days left for the vacation.

As soon as he came home, he was told that his tuition teacher has mumps, his cheeks now resemble a pumpkin, even if he gets cured, it will take at least a month.

Now I felt that Gupe was talking bluff. He is saying that if he wears the talisman and say something will happen, that thing is bound to happen. We all created a hullabaloo over this – Can something like this ever happen?

Naga said, “Only Jesus Christ can do something like this-,”

Gupe turned red like a beetroot in anger, and pointing a sharp and long nail at Naga, he said, “You will get a punishment and stand throughout in today’s Science class.”

And that was exactly what happened. Not only did he stand throughout the class, he also had his ear tweaked. After this, nobody had the courage to tell Gupe anything again. Gupe just had to look at his talisman and say something, and all the other students will take that as true. In fear of getting cursed, everyone gives Gupe whatever he asks for.

In three weeks the class is quaking under Gupe’s new power. He started doing whatever he liked. Even forcing Kalipod to shave off his hair because Gupe didn’t like his new haircut.

Everybody started getting thin as days went past by. Naga’s shirt got so loose, that his elder brother accused Naga of taking his shirt. He scolded, “Don’t you see it’s got all loose and flabby? It’s either father’s or mine.”

Gupe also started taking over everybody’s things. Pencils, rubbers, sharpeners, colour pencils; the weight of all these threaten to tear apart his pockets nowadays. To prevent that from happening, he took my tiffin box to keep them securely. I got furious. I started stuttering. Shaking my head, I said, “L-Look Gupe, you are getting worse nowadays. This is getting too much now. I solved all your sums yesterday. You ate more than half of my tiffin. I ended up having a scolding in English class because you were blabbering away. Don’t cross the limits, I am telling you!”

With an angry mind I said all these in one breath, unable to stop once that I have started. Gupe started getting ready to curse me. As his eyes became small like two tiny pinpricks, he gulped, cleared his throat, pointed towards me, and said in a ringing voice, “Today is the last day of your life. Even if the day passes by, the night will not.”

The whole class was in pin-drop silence. Then the teacher entered the class, and nothing more was said.

After a while, my throat felt somewhat dry, my breath started coming out louder, the roots of my hair started shaking, my stomach felt empty. I realized that the curse of the talisman was upon me. I heard nothing of the teaching today, I didn’t bother to take down my homework, I didn’t listen to anyone’s rebukes in the drawing class. The one whose it was the last day in Earth, what else does he have to think about? I pushed my tiffin box into Naga’s hand in class, like I was letting Gupe feast on it, whatever happens. When the bell rung I determinedly decided to destroy that talisman before I go.

I saw Gupe’s old servant, Bhoddu, tidying Gupe’s books, while Gupe stood by and watched. Suddenly I got all heated, and rushed towards Gupe, pushing him against the wall, snatching away that talisman and breaking it into pieces. I should also have given him a beating, but I didn’t do anything. Gupe simply stared at me.

Then the servant came running and started bawling, “Aee, what did you do! That was my infallible stomach-ache cure talisman. I brought it from Kalighat for two paise. I knew earlier that whatever is given to Gupe is bound to get destroyed!”

We all stared open-mouthed at Gupe. He should have said something, but he simply casually took out two paise from his pocket, threw it towards Bhoddu, and went home smiling serenely.

#bengali to english translation

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dajaregambler · 3 years

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HeliosR - Mission of CASINO Event story - Chapter 11

Translation of chapter 11 of the event ‘Mission of CASINO’ from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Keith: ….Aah, a loss on my part

Guest: I did it! It’s a winning streak!

Guest: Alright one more game! I’ll bet everything single penny I have on me from that win!

Keith: Ooh, yer wallet’s in high spirits, ain’t it

Guest: Haha! I gotta keep going while I’m lucky

Sturdy staff: Oi, Keith

Keith: ?

Keith: Hah? Make ‘em lose?

Sturdy staff: Right now, that guest’s betting money has become a considerable amount.

Keith: Ah, uh-huh. Since he kept going on without losing midway, he’s been winning good

Keith: But you’re saying to make him lose, even though we’re in a casino where we don’t know how it’ll play out?

Keith: If it’s ‘bout being able to do it ‘cuz of some whatever skill, let a more experienced dealer than me do it. Telling me is absurd...

Sturdy staff: Not at all, no matter what kind of dealer one might be- there’s methods that even children would be able to win with

Keith: ……..Could ya be talking ‘bout cheating?

Sturdy staff: Ah, that’s right.

Keith: ……..

Keith: (Said it without any hesitation. I mean, of course this place is gonna be rampant with swindling and cheating.)

Keith: (Then, that game from yesterday where I kept losing is all to blame on dirty tricks? Makes sense why the owner took it on full with confidence if it’s the case.)

Sturdy staff: Keith? Don’t tell me that you’ll go all ‘’I can’t deceive the customers’’... or something like that?

Keith: (....Where I am now is a world as close as possible to Lost Garden.)

Keith: (I’m siding with a guy from a place where it’s natural to deceive and betray your opponent. I ain’t gonna hesitate ‘bout it since it’s impossible for me to get out of here now.)

Keith: Hah, of course I can? Teach me how to be foul in a way that even some bloke like me can understand.

Keith: ….It’s my win.

Guest: Wha- I lost again? I had a fairly good hand this time! It’s not possible for you to get good cards every single time! T-this is fraud!

Keith: This is a matter of experience and luck y’know. Weren’t ya happy how you were winning countless of times at the beginning

Keith: I got used to playing with ya, and you lost ‘cuz I was able to read you like a book. That’s all there is to it

Keith: Already whining over this being cheating, are you some kinda amateur? Based on how you look you do reek of being a tourist, if you don’t mean to chuck up everything ya have then I think it’d be better for you to scuttle outta from here at once.

Keith: (If he starts acting up and gets taken into the staffroom it won’t be good. I gotta make ‘em give up here somehow…)

Keith: For guys like you it’s good enough to gamble leisurely every now and then when ya got the chance. Leave before you fall and get entangled into the depths of this world

Guest: ...Shit!

Keith: ……

Owner: What a splendid service that was, Keith. Whenever I get the occasion to see you in action, it makes me think that it’s a shame we haven’t come across each other earlier

Keith: Am much obliged

Keith: I hate seeing people who don’t got a single penny to their name destroying themselves. For what kinda life they might have, I know it all too well…….

Keith: If it got to that pushover of a customer thoroughly then it’s fine

Owner: The presence you have is of one that has seen hell with his own eyes. Having control over it is no easy feat, which is why I believe in what you are saying.

Owner: There’s many that loathe that presence of yours. However, in my eyes, it’s a gift from heavens above

Keith: ...Mh

Keith: Gonna clean up the table a bit. No guest’s going to wanna play with me after that commotion either way

#heliosR #helios rising heroes #keith max #missionofcasino

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maisstories · 4 years

Text

I Need Your Help

To be more precise, my girlfriend needs your help. The reason I am the one writing this text is because right now she is so depressed and discouraged that she doesn’t have the strength to believe asking for help would make a difference, and that… that terrifies me.

For those who don’t know us, I am Mai, and my girlfriend is Kari. Under different circumstances, we should have our lives all nicely sorted out, but as we are all aware, we live in the kind of dystopian world society at large likes to pretend only happens in fiction. Especially Kari. You see, I’m from Spain, and Kari is from the US. This means an entire ocean separates us (otherwise I would’ve bundled her up and brought her home, believe me).

Kari is a poor wlw who lives in a very conservative area (as in, Bible Belt conservative). She has ADHD, which went untreated most of her life, hampering her at every turn. First, because she grew up in a very conservative Catholic family and most Catholic families just Don’t Believe in Those Things. Now… well, now because she has no medical insurance and can’t afford to pay for medication. Cute, isn’t it? And that’s not even the best part. Kari has depression, that I mentioned, but this whole situation, and the hopelessness it causes her, has brought forth suicidal ideation. I don’t have the words to express just how scared I am by this. It paralyzes me. There is nothing, physically nothing I can do if they ever get the better of her.

To add to this, it has been made abundantly clear to Kari that her parents won’t help her if she becomes homeless. They didn’t want a child to begin with. A gay child? Yeah, no, forget about it.

(On a bit of a bright note, Kari has two adopted cats, which are the cutest fur balls over. They’re her closest emotional support most days, and I am very grateful for them. I can’t cuddle her or be physically there for her at all, but I can at least ask her to go cuddle them. They’re not even on the particularly scratchy side for cats).

Currently, Kari has a job, but despite taking on as many extra hours as possible, she cannot make enough money for rent. In fact, she cannot make many other basic necessities, which I will list here because they’re important, I am worried sick, and we really do need help:

-Work: Kari lost her previous job for one of those completely absurd, US-only reasons back in late October. I say absurd because any company trying to pull that shit here in Spain, and most likely anywhere in the European Union, would’ve been fined out of business. But hey, Country of Freedom and all that, isn’t it? She finally found a new job mid-November. Lower pay, though, which means it doesn’t help her cover full rent.

-Rent: As many people in the US will know, and others not from the US will have heard, rent outside of isolated areas is ridiculously expensive, especially for such a large and unpopulated country. The Wonders of Capitalism. As such, Kari is forced to pay a truly monstrous amount of money for a minuscule space to live in, one that ate up most of her previous salary and that surpasses her current one.

-Bills: Let’s not forget these. She rations. As much as she can. Electricity, water, internet… she goes for cheapest and least use, so far as to monitor her use of water during showers, but this still adds to her expenses.

-Food: Now’s where things get to a truly awful degree. When she moved to the place she lives in now (and if anyone wants the story that led to this move, please ask, because that’s an entirely other level of fucked up), she had to apply for food stamps, because she had barely no money left to feed herself and her two adopted cats after all the mandatory expenses. Food stamps people don’t look at the money you have left after bills, they just look at your income, so she was allotted $16. Useful, right? Anyway, fast forward to late October: Kari loses her job, so, obviously, one of the first things she does is contact the food stamps people to update her situation and have her allotment reevaluated. No response. Contact again. No response. This keeps going on. Mid-November, she gets a new job (still no response from the food stamps people despite the many attempts to contact them). Last Friday, her food supplies consisted of a bit of chicken, two fish fillets, and a couple eggs. I do not kid you. Today, the food stamp people finally answered her call: they won’t look into her case until, at least, December.

That’s it for the basics. As you see, it’s a wonderful situation.

Now, my role in this, as I’m sure some of you are wondering.

Let me start by saying this: I am a heavily disabled woman (nearly blind) living in an isolated area with the worst public transport system this side of the Mediterranean Sea. I am incapable of even getting out of home without assistance and someone to drive me at the moment. This means, having a job where I currently live is out of the question (I’m working on getting a job somewhere else where I’ll be able to live on my own. Sort of). My only source of income right now is my Patreon account, the earnings of which go fully to Kari because my girlfriend’s wellbeing matters to me much more than anything I could ever need for myself. I may say whatever I want about my parents’ belief that my relationship isn’t real because they don’t believe you can forge real connections through the internet (or the fact they want me to have a BOYfriend because they want grandchildren), but at least they’re so terrified I’ll break the moment I step outside on my own that they take good care of me.

Still, unfortunately, I’m only a writer, and a writer’s Patreon doesn’t make enough money to cover for such serious issues.

But Kari is the most important person in my life. I’m not exaggerating. I never thought I’d fall in love. I’ve always been the weird one out, the blind kid teachers coddled too much out of pity so other kids disliked and picked on, the one who was so odd that didn’t even fit with the weird kids in school. That happened everywhere, anywhere I went. Even in some fandom groups. It came to the point I stopped trying. It came to the point I thought once my parents died I wouldn’t have anyone. I’d stopped making plans for the future. There was no future for me.

And then I met Kari. She can make me smile with a silly gif and an obscure quote I thought no one else knew at 3am when I’m on the verge of tears because I feel trapped in my own house; she can get me excited about doing a joint cosplay in the distant future when I’d given up on cosplay years ago because I had no one who wanted to go to cons with me; she listens to my stupid history rants and even shows interest in them, when the most I’m used to getting are eye rolls and a change of topic.

Kari is the best that’s happened to me. Ever. And I want her to be happy. I want her to not have to worry about rent; I want her to be able to buy herself a chocolate bar because she feels like it without having to feel guilty for wasting the money. I want her to be able to live without the fear of being evicted every month, without having to worry about tomorrow’s meals because she ran out of food stamps and the fridge has only a can of soup left for the weekend. I want her to be able to go to the doctor when she’s sick and buy the medication she needs to get better.

But I don’t have the power to do this. Not now, not yet. So I’m asking you, everyone out there, to please help us. Help her.

And, I’m afraid, November is an awful month for Kari. Due to the late date at which she found her new job, she is missing a large chunk of rent. I’m doing everything in my power to gather money, and I ask —no, beg— you to help. Donate something, anything. Even if it is small, many small donations can make a difference.

Originally, we wanted to do a GoFundMe page with a three-month goal of 975 dollars to cover that period’s expenses (yes, guys, we’re missing about 500 this month. It’s that horrible), but every single crowdfunding website we have found works through bank accounts. Banks in the US are sharks; they tax you for not having enough income, for not having enough activity… Basically, if you’re poor in the US, you have to pay to have a bank account that will never have any money in it because the bank will eat it up. So, until we find an alternate crowdfunding site that allows to collect through paypal, we have set us several other safe forms through which you guys can donate to help Kari.

Paypal.Me: https://paypal.me/findyourwaycrafts

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/findyourway

Kari has a crafts store, because she is a fantastic artist (and you should totally check it out), with much stuff already on it and other stuff planned to come:

Store: https://findyourway.storenvy.com/

Store Tumblr: https://findyourwaycrafts.tumblr.com/

However, these things take time to take off, and we are running out of time in November. So please, please, help us cover the remainder of Kari’s rent for this month. Even if it’s just a dollar, three, five, a purchase of a necklace. Anything. Please, help us. Help Kari keep a roof over her head this Winter.

#help #signal boost #crowdfunding #fundraising #capitalism #solidarity #homelesness #long post #lgbtqa+#adhd #disability #usa #i know this is far from my usual stuff #but this is very important to me #kari is my beloved girlfriend and I'm terrified for her #please help her

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eldonash · 4 years

Text

New Order for the Brood || Orobas & Carrington

Summary: Orobas and Carrington establish mutual relations and agree to bringing the vampires together in due time. Off camera they shop for a house for the future brood. @carringtonblackwood

Set up

Orobas was a man who listened, and observed. Information was always a vital piece to survival. He had taken great advantage of this new era and online shopping. If they needed any supplies at all, amazon was one click away to putting it on their doorstep the next evening. It was glorious, and dangerous for a man who had a decent amount of money. It was a shame he couldn’t shop locally often. He was walking calmly down a street in downtown, window shopping their wares while their doors were closed late in the evening. Orobas contemplated if he could get one of the owners to stay open late one night, let him shop their store alone. It would be worth their time and money. Pausing his easy strides, he stared into the window of a suit store, admiring their choices when he heard whispers up the road. Faintly, but with a peak of interest that lured his gaze in a different direction.

Carrington was also a listener and an observer. It was partly how he’d managed to survive for so long. By knowing what was happening in his immediate surroundings. And beyond. Beyond being the community he currently lived in. Whether it was Europe, Japan, Scotland, or here in White Crest, Carrington made it his business to listen to the whispers that drifted through the air. Lost words of conversations carried on the breeze. Rumors that slipped from tongues loosened by alcohol or drugs. Or even by the occasional bit of compulsion. Tonight, Carrington had merely gone for a walk to clear his mind of too many racing thoughts. He had no real destination in mind. No real purpose to his steps other than to let the relative quiet of the evening settle in around him. It wasn’t until the murmur of voices reached his ears that he paused. It was a subtle thing, the way he simply… slowed to a halt. His eyes never the pavement that he’d been frowning at for the duration of his trek. Until he’d pinpointed the source of the sounds. One had grown suddenly frantic… the other sharp and raised, though it still tried to be quiet. Carrington’s eyes slid towards the side-street, and he waited a beat before turning his path towards the growing sounds of conflict.

Orobas curiously turned down the alleyway near him. It's darkness was almost impenetrable less the other side which faintly glowed with a street lamp in mirrored reflection to his position. There he stood for a few seconds, this silhouetted figure blocking the pathway as he stared down, head cocked slightly as he suddenly smelled blood and the muffled choke of a seized throat. Something delirious spun his mind into visions of war and murder, and an insane, almost amused smile twitched his dead muscles into an eerie expression. He walked into the alleyway, seeing another figure on the far side lured in. The more steps he took, the sounds turned into gasps and shuffling as a punch sounded, and someone started coughing as they caught their stolen breath. When he was about ten steps away, he didn't look at the two humans hurting each other, but on the other. "Hmm, seems the world finds it time we meet,"

The scent of blood curled through the air, overlying the dirty, damp smell of the dimly lit alley. Carrington knew the sounds of a struggle, and his instinct was - and had always been - to intervene. If it was necessary. Though he had spilled his own share of blood in dark corners all over the world. Some in self-defense, some in anger. Some in the desperate desire to feed on something warm and living as it struggled and cried out against him. The latter was the flash of a past life that Carrington pushed down fiercely and firmly. He was no monster that preyed on the unsuspecting and unconsenting. The blood he took was freely given. Unless it was that of someone that deserved death. Hunters, slayers… those that harmed the weak and the innocent. Their blood had coated Carrington’s blade time and time again. But this was no hunter attack. Nor was it one of his kind feeding on an unwilling victim. This was a mugging of some sort. Another punch and the sound of forcibly exhaled air sounded through the alley. But it wasn’t this that had Carrington’s attention. Let the humans sort it out between themselves. No. His attention was on the figure that stood less than a dozen paces away. A figure he didn’t recognize, but at the same time, he did. Like recognizes like, after all. Carrington tilted his head slightly, studying the other. Finally, he gave the tiniest dip of his head. “So it does. But what would the world have of us, I wonder.”

One of the people pushed the other back down on the ground, wrapping their hands back on their throat and slammed their head to the ground. The crack of bone ignited old memories, ones filled with desires and bloodshed over a battlefield. Their hand reached out for him, and Orobas had a mind to grab it, to pull them up and into his embrace only to see the realization as they met with another monster. One that was hungry-- someone who was far, far worse than the one attempting to kill them now. He placed his hands into his pockets and relaxed his shoulders, further ignoring the humans. "I'm patient-- perpetually, and you know-- the world always delivers me who I require. I anticipate what immortality means and how much of the life we can remember and enjoy every waking moment, but I’m usually wrong." He seemed almost happy, "I have been waiting hundreds of years to meet you, and it is now that we do, it's extraordinary how that happens. Do you wish to chat?"

The fight between the two humans was becoming a distraction. Carrington wasn’t one to let someone die needlessly, so as the underdog’s skull cracked against the concrete, he frowned. It wouldn’t do to have someone get killed here tonight, especially if someone had seen him enter the alley. Carrington doubted he’d been spotted, but one couldn’t be too careful these days. “I am as well,” Carrington said of patience. “Immortality is both a blessing and a curse. Though the definition of either of those things is all relative. Depending on what the world decides to bring us.” The stranger’s words struck an odd feeling deep in Carrington’s chest. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it also wasn’t a good one. It was more… to be determined. One thing was certain, however: he did wish to chat. “That it is. That we should meet after so many years, at this very moment in time.” So Carrington nodded that he did indeed wish to chat. But he also had a mind to finish the human squabble himself, before it got out of hand. “A moment, if you will.” And that’s all it took. A moment. Before the man with his hands around the other man’s throat was being slammed against the alley wall. A flash of a blade as he tried to stab Carrington. But the vampire had his fist in his hand before the blade made contact. He squeezed just enough to hear bones break. The human assailant cried out, but Carrington covered his mouth. A few whispered words, and a heavy dose of compulsion, and the man slumped. Carrington let him go, and he staggered off into the street, heading to the police department to turn himself in for assault. But having forgotten all about Carrington and the other vampire. The man on the ground groaned, and Carrington hefted him to his feet. The smell of blood was all around him, but he was alive. Another bit of compulsion and Carrington sent him on his way to the hospital to report the attack, and also forget about the other two men. “Shall we?” Carrington asked, giving the other vampire a small tip of his head.

Orobas would always, and forever, care about his kin to an obsessive, and almost absurd protective point. He was an evil creature to the core, but he had a code he liked to follow, which placed other vampires always by his side first over being enemies. Just like with Harsh, someone he felt deeply with for the longest besides his maker, seeing another vampire who carried the air of age, and wisdom felt like coming home again. He smiled as the fight broke up, the two humans blurry in mind and compulsion as they staggered off. Orobas was intensely curious about what caused it, but other matters now were much more important. He moved away from the dark alleyway, calm, steady, and content in the company. Typically, he'd introduce himself as his new name, but between kin, he didn't mind being honest. Often curious if such a thing was known when legend around it existed. "My name is Orobas Ash," he offered one of the biggest secrets right away to show his trust already. "Are you staying in White Crest for a while? Our kind moves often, don't we? I like it here. This weird little town. It's different than anywhere else in the world."

Carrington had been born to be a knight. His father before him done so, and Carrington had followed in his footsteps, serving his king and the people until it had cost him his human life. Yet even in this second life, Carrington refused to lose his humanity. His sense of honor and purpose. And while he was always a champion of his own kind over the lives of those that sought to harm them - slayers, hunters, and the like - his loyalty to his species only went so far. As he’d told Matty, the vampire slash addict he’d met in another alley much like this, if he couldn’t hold his tongue and made the mistake of tipping off the hunters in town to any of their kind, or Carrington himself, Carrington would cut off his head. He had no loyalty at all to cowards or traitors. But to those that didn’t deserve to be harmed, Carrington would step in when needed.

The humans moved away, and Carrington forgot about them as he took up the slow pace of his companion. It was rare he met someone that felt as old as he was. Carrington didn’t know how he knew this. Call it a feeling, perhaps. But he didn’t question it. It wasn’t until the stranger revealed his name that the odd feeling in Carrington’s chest returned. The unnameable one from before. Orobas Ash. If Carrington’s skin was capable of having goosebumps, they would’ve raced across his skin at the very utterance of that name. Because Carrington had heard that story. And in his naivety at the time, thought it merely a legend told among humans and vampires alike. The flick of Carrington’s eyes to other man’s profile was the only indication of his surprise. Though he was quite aware that the name could be fake. Could be. But Carrington was quite certain it wasn’t. Christ. “I was born Carrington Bishop.” He nodded in agreement of how often those like themselves moved. “It’s Blackwood these days.” He turned back to the road ahead. “I find myself wanting to linger awhile. There are… things keeping me here. By choice this time. Things the world never told me about until I found them.”

"Sounds romantic," he mused gently, curious if that was the real answer or if it was because they were able to call it home. Orobas often wondered what his birthplace looked like now in modern times. He's not been back in South Korea in hundreds of years though, big cities and sprawling neighborhoods would surely devour such a little village. "I had a revelation about a decade ago. A child, school-age, came up to me without an ounce of fear. And you know what they did, Carrington? They placed beautiful flower petals into my hands and lifted them--" he did the motion gently, "right to my face and told me to smell it. Such innocence, this shocked me. It was the first time in my life I wanted to see this little human live their entire life in peace. That is what's here. White Crest is a place of mystery and wonder. I cherish it."

“Perhaps,” Carrington said, his tone giving away nothing. It was the truth, such as it was. There were people here that he cared about, and wanted to be around. Be with. He hadn’t had a place he’d called home for a long time. Not in two hundred years at least. White Crest was slowly starting to feel that way. And that both thrilled and terrified the vampire. As the other man mentioned a revelation, Carrington glanced at him again. His expression was attentive and curious, and as the other revealed the source of this turning point in his immortal life - a human child, of all things - Carrington found his expression softening ever so slightly. He heard truth in the other’s words, and when Orobas was finished with the tale, Carrington gave him a nod of gratitude for sharing it with him. “‘The soul is healed by being with children’,” Carrington mused aloud. “And I couldn’t agree more. There’s something about this place. It…” He paused briefly, searching for the words. “It’s as if, as you said a moment ago, the world finally decided it was time for something. And brought us here.”

Carrington held the same level of sentiment as he did about children. It was challenging to express his emotions clearly, his face stoic, and still less, he managed to smile, but his words, now they could always get to the point. "I tend to speak candidly when I'm not dreaming about the universe caring about the immortals," Orobas joked lightly, offering a chuckle. "We have been brought here, to this one little spot. Have you ever once in life considered settling down with more of our kind? All our life, my maker and I have been together, running, country to country, war to war, but this isn't what we want anymore." He glanced over, shoulders square, and holding a fondness in his gaze. "We'd like to think we could all be together, keep each other safe."

Carrington laughed slightly, the sound warm and soft in his throat. “I find the universe rarely cares for any of us, no matter what our species. It exists as it always has. And when we are all dust, it shall continue on until the end of time.” Though there was humor in his voice as well, his own emotions were usually a whorl of sensations and thoughts that had to be wrangled and sometimes forcibly tied down before they could be expressed clearly. Especially the ones that gave him pause. The ones that shook themselves to life as their conversation continued were just these sort. Old emotions, dry and cracked and stiff from years of disuse. “My maker and I haven’t seen one another in over a century. He still lives - I can feel that much - but…” He shook his head, slipping his hands idly into his pockets. “... I haven’t heard from him since the turn of the last century.” What it must be like, to always have someone there with you. Someone that understood. That just… knew what it was like. Knew you better than you knew yourself. As for the rest. “I settled once,” Carrington said quietly. “But not with another like myself. He was a witch. I… tried to convince him to let me turn him, both to cure the wasting disease that was killing him and so that we might be together, but he wouldn’t have it.” Carrington swallowed. “I’ve not considered settling again. Until recently.” He glanced over at Orobas, noting the soft expression on the other vampire’s face. Carrington wondered if that’s how he himself looked when he talked about a certain doctor he’d grown quite fond of. The notion of a group of vampires existing together for mutual companionship and protection wasn’t unheard of. But it had been a long time since Carrington had heard someone speak the idea out loud. “I could…” He hesitated briefly, before pulling his thoughts together again. “I could certainly consider it. And I’ve a friend who might feel the same.”

"Not that it's our business-- but I'd hope you could find out what they are up to. We can help you if you need it. Pull old contacts." Orobas felt very saddened by this news. What would his existence be without his maker? Haxian did so much to encourage him, to be this other conscious in his mind that to even think about not being with him even for a few nights seemed-- impossible. They likely had a codependency problem, not that they were aware or cared. He frowned sadly at Carrington not knowing where his maker was. At least they weren't dead like Harsh's. "That's-- unfortunate," he said about their partner but didn't understand the emotion Carrington felt for this other person. Never sure about love, especially with a human as well as he should. Even though Orobas tried, he never grasped it a way a human could follow. His steps paused, genuine pleasure exposed. "Wonderful. They are welcome; we are working on a location. We have enough money, but precautions are wanted to go into it, which will require a bit of compulsion to keep the humans out of our business. Taking our time will only ensure it will be safe. Do you have a progeny?"

The offer to help locate his sire was a kind one, and Carrington nodded, stating that he would certainly give it some thought. To see the man again after so long would be… Carrington wasn’t quite sure he had the words to express that particular emotion right now. Carrington could almost claim codependency as well. But not with his sire. Though they had been extremely close, that bond was different from the bond he’d felt with his partner. The love was a different sort of love. An all-encompassing one that had left Carrington hollow and near out of his mind with grief when the man he’d loved more than his own life had passed. It had taken two centuries to even start to consider moving on. And as soon as he had, a man came into his life who was… good and kind and pure. Who made Carrington remember what it was like to feel short of breath and flushed, to have your heart race and your palms sweat… who looked at Carrington in a way that would’ve taken his breath. If Carrington had had any to give.

“Yes, it was,” he answered simply, not wishing to linger over that particular subject. Though his tone conveyed the sadness that still remained, even now. The subject changed, however, and Carrington paused as Orobas did. “One can never be too cautious these days. I came here initially because there was talk of the Hunter population being rather large. They’re out there, as I’m sure you know.” Time was fortunately on the side of the immortals, so even if it took a long time to make a place secure enough for more than a few vampires to meet, it would be well worth it. “How many are you so far? If I might ask?” Carrington knew several others like himself, but had no real numbers as to the actual vampire population in White Crest. “And no. I don’t,” he said of any progeny.

Orobas spent centuries hunting down innocent people. From slaughtering entire ancient fishing villages in south China, or in New York when the skyscrapers were newly forming and penthouses could be splattered in red. Now, Orobas quelled urges he’s had since the beginning, even-- as a human he was someone who killed without feeling. Though redemption was a fickle thing in him, he knew deep down he needed a focus to keep it up, and being with other vampires, seeing them all thrive together here without hunters picking them off. It could be enough to humor retirement until Elder status. Then-- well. “I know of a few I could humor being around, though, I haven’t quite pitched anything yet. I’m not some revolutionary type, but I have met a werewolf in town who has the fire for it. It’s something else to see.” He chuckled. “We have time, I’m in no rush, never have been with anything. Hunters will always exist, and I have taken pleasure in killing off entire family lines.” His grin sharpened, as if knowing the one before him might know that feeling too. “White Crest will always need hunters to kill the things going after humans, eliminating them here isn’t the point. It’s in making sure we are untouchable, unreachable, and too powerful for them to bother. They can worry about the other monsters of the world, and we-- can just exist in our immortality until it grows boring.”

Carrington had spent centuries hunting down people as well. Except his mission had been the opposite: hunt down those who would persecute and harm the innocent. Be they human, vampire, fae, witch, or otherwise. He’d done his share of merciless killing in what he considered their defense. Though he was old enough to know that along the way some innocents had paid the price for his actions. Or lack thereof. Carrington huffed slightly at the thought of being a revolutionary. “Neither am I. Once, perhaps. But not now.” He made a curious sound at the mention of the werewolf who had such a constitution, and tucked the fact into the back of his mind to explore later. Carrington’s expression turned a bit more serious as they moved briefly to the subject of hunters. He gave a small nod of agreement, even if there had been no pleasure taken from killing others. Not in a long time at least. “I’m not interested in the ones that hunt monsters. Only in the ones that harm the innocent.” The idea of being untouchable was… a tempting thought process to fall into. But no one was untouchable. Everything could die, even immortals. But the idea of being something the hunters didn’t dare bother with was appealing to Carrington. “The idea certainly has merit. But you know there are those foolish enough to see a gathering of our kind as some sort of threat. And take issue with it.”

Orobas agreed. “Probably, likely, either way-- it will be interesting. There are already places we all group up in, locations filled with supernaturals in town and they tend to look the other way or know stepping in would be too dangerous. That, is information I want to take advantage of,” Orobas offered a curious glance over, but it held no malice or evil intent. Simply a gaze, all consuming, like he was still surprised they were on the same page. “Would you like to walk with me some more Carrington? To see the houses I have in mind? Another opinion on the manner would be welcome, and the company.”

It was true. There were already several bars and establishments meant solely for their kind dotted about town. So it wasn’t as if such a gathering was unheard of. Perhaps it wouldn’t be seen as so unusual. Or as something that would draw unwanted attention. “Of course,” Carrington smiled in agreement. “I’m quite a fan of good real estate. Though the American obsession with the Colonial style will never cease to confuse me.” They walked on into the night, voices quiet as they disappeared into the shadows. What would come of it, only time would tell. But as they both knew, they had that in spades.

#x: carrington #x: new order for the brood #violence tw

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vfdbaudelairefile13 · 4 years

Text

Chapter Thirty-Three:

The One With The Diabolical Detective Dupin

Violet and Klaus both felt as though the Elders had just kicked the air right out of them. They looked at one another, each wiping the happy tears from their eyes.

“What did you say?” Violet asked, her voice was faint from her lack of breath.

“We said ‘Olaf’s been captured’,” The elder said again as the three Elders rolled their eyes towards the children.

Klaus’ body felt numb. “W-wh-what did you say?” His voice was as soft and weak as Violet’s

“Pay attention orphans! We said ‘Count Olaf has been captured’,” the male Elder barked. The three Elders walked towards the town hall leaving the two half-siblings breathless, confused, and strangely full of hope.

Klaus looked to his older sister. He was shaking but for once it wasn’t in fear. It was in delight, happiness, and pure excitement. He could barely stand. “My nightmare is over…” he squealed. “I can sleep peacefully. He’s captured. He’s done for!”

Violet smiled as Klaus began to jump for joy. Hector peaked his head into the saloon. “Come quickly, children,” he said smiling at both children. “I just heard the news.”

Violet grabbed Klaus’ arm and the two siblings followed Hector towards town hall. “Can you believe it?” he asked as they walked. “Count Olaf, the notorious villain I first head of yesterday, capture at last in that very saloon!”

“Do you think it could be true? “ Violet asked a bit skeptical but doing her best to keep her optimism.

Klaus’ eyes were glazed over with a brightness that Violet had only scene briefly back when she witnessed her little brother awkwardly flirting with Duncan Quagmire or when he had scooped his baby sister in his arms to tickle her when she teased him before Olaf showed up at Prufrock. Or when he info dumped for his entertainment and not because his life depended on it and even then Violet could tell the prospect of Olaf being captured was the thing Klaus desired the most. The one thing he desperately needed the most. “I hope so!” Klaus replied in a happy tone.

Violet frowned when she realized that Klaus had fallen victim to jumping to conclusions. Which is just an expression, rather than an activity. Although in the case of Klaus Baudelaire in this instant in his life, both would be accurate. Unfortunately for Klaus, jumping to conclusions was as dangerous as jumping off a cliff, jumping in front of a moving train, and jumping for joy. Clearly, the solution to anything involving jumping is to not jump at all. This was what Violet Snicket was trying her hardest to do. But as Violet and Hector walked normally to town hall and Klaus acted as though he was a four-year-old in a candy store with an outrageous amount of money and no restrictions, Violet couldn’t help but catch a bit of her brother’s surprising, rare, and uncharacteristic optimism. I will admit, it is hard not to jump at all when you are jumping to conclusions, and it is impossible to make sure that you are juping to a safe place because all ‘jumping to conclusions’ means is that you are believing something is true even though you don’t actually know whether it is or not. When Violet and Klaus heard that Count Olaf had been captured, Klaus found himself to excited and relieved to rely on his history with Olaf and logic.

“The Council of Elders called a special meeting, which always makes me jumpy,” Hector explained as he took a seat as far in the back as he could. Violet and Klaus made their way closer to the front. Sitting in the seats perpendicular to the main crowd of townspeople.

“Settle down, everyone,” One Elder yelled, smacking their gavel down.

“We’ll answer all your questions,”

Klaus’ hand shot up so fast. “ Can it be true?’ He asked his voice entirely happy but Violet could hear the desperation in his voice. “ Is my long nightmare of dealing with Count Olaf over?”

“It’s true,” The Elder explained. “A man arrived in town sometime yesterday, with one eyebrow and a tattoo of an eye on his ankle,”

“It must be Olaf,” Klaus replied, jumping to conclusions.

Violet frowned. She hoped it was Olaf but...she knew his tattoo wasn’t unique. She also knew that it was not a tattoo of an eye but the initials of the piece of shit organization that has haunted the Snickets for too long.

“Yes. Olaf was hiding in the village in a disguise. Fortunately, a handsome stranger who claimed to be an investigative agent arrived yesterday and captured him. We’ve got him handcuffed outside.”

“Olaf. Not the handsome stranger,” one Elder explained.

“He certainly is a tall drink of water,” another Elder commented.

“The handsome stranger, not Olaf.” the first Elder specified.

“His female associate is quite capable, too,” the third Elder noted.

“Did he give up the location of my sister and friends?” Klaus asked desperately.

“Our…” Violet muttered, glancing at the ground.

“Not yet,” an Elder replied.

Klaus shifted in his seat. “Will you tell the detective that I’m grateful?”

“You can tell him yourself,” the third Elder replied. “He’s right back there,” the old man pointed a finger to the back doors.

Violet and Klaus turned their attention to the back doors of Town Hall. Klaus ready to thank the detective who caught Olaf. Violet just wanting to see who finished the job that her father hadn’t. But as the door was kicked open, Klaus and Violet did not only feel the color in their skin fade away. They felt their eyes dull over losing any bit of brightness that it may have gained when they first heard the news. They felt their hearts crash and shatter deep inside themselves. Their stomachs flipped and their heads twirled. Their lungs lost all oxygen that had been stored. Both children felt the heavy, crushing devastation that sent their faces falling. It was as if their world had shattered once again. Any ounce of temporary happiness had faded from both children so quickly. They felt nauseous and distraught. The two children felt lifeless as their bodies paralyzed over instantly. Either because of their anger, like in Violet's case or in Klaus' case, fear.

“Greetings, all you cool cats!” called the voice of the man who kicked the doors open. This man needed a dramatic entrance because the Snicket brothers described him accurately. He was a drama queen. A drama queen whose voice, I’m sorry to say, that the two orphans recognized in an instant. It was the voice that Violet despised the most and the voice that haunted Klaus even in his less terrifying dreams. The voice was wheezy and scratchy, and it had a sinister smile behind it as if the person talking were telling a joke. But it was not a voice that made the children want to laugh at the punchline. It was one that made them want to either retreat and cry. It was one that made them want to attack and kill. It was a voice that the children recognized from all of the places they had been since the death of their parents. It was the voice of Count Olaf.

The children gazed silently as they turned to see Olaf wearing another one of his absurd disguises. He flashed a smirk at the children. Even behind his enormous sunglasses, they could feel his shiny eyes staring at them. He was also wearing a purple blazer that was so vividly colored that it made the children squint a bit, and a pair of blue pants jeans equipped with, what the kids assumed to be, a plastic police badge that proudly hung at the front of his pants near the belt buckle. Under his purple jacket, the man had a dirty yellow shirt on with half of the buttons unbuttoned showing off his disgusting chest, which added an extra layer of unpleasant to the children. He wore a shiny medallion around his neck that glinted like a mirror in certain lighting. To complete his look, he wore a brown fedora-like hat that helped his enormous sunglasses hide his unibrow. On his feet were a pair of bright green plastic shoes with yellow plastic lightning bolts sticking out of them covering his ankle and hiding his tattoo.

The man walked closer to where the two children were sitting. Violet grabbed Klaus’ arm as Olaf approached. She glared at him as she could feel Klaus shaking under her grip. “I am the famous and,” he cut himself off to scat a bit. “cool...Detective Dupin.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “More like Detective Dumbass,” she muttered to Klaus hoping that she can keep him from having a full-blown panic attack. She was getting over her paralyzation quicker than Klaus was. Klaus stared at the man in silence. No expression written on his face.

“I was on the scene if you know what I mean, and I saw Count Olaf, and nothing rhymes,” Olaf scat in his disguised voice trying to sound as ’80s as possible. “And I grabbed this guy, and made him fly into jail and also,” he scat. Violet could tell he was trying his best to continue this charade but he wasn’t as knowledgeable with words as her father or brother were.”A rhyme is a hard thing to do,” he said snapping his finger. Moving around the crowd, stopping short of the two orphans. Violet gripped Klaus’ arm harder as Olaf turned from the orphans to the crowd. To Violet’s dismay, the town of VFD began to clap and applaud Olaf’s Detective Dupin charade.

“You can’t be serious,” she cried.

“Yeah! All right!” Dupin cheered. Taking a few bows.

“I found that utterly convincing,” one Elder commented as he clapped for Olaf.

Klaus felt a bolt of lightning shock through his inner being. He jumped up from his seat so fast that he yanked Violet’s arm with him causing her to yelp and let go. “ That’s Count Olaf!” he shouted, pointing and glaring at the disguised man.

Olaf sighed, quickly rolled his eyes, which the crowd couldn’t see behind his sunglasses. He slowly turned around to face Klaus. He shot Klaus a wicked smirk laced with cruel intentions. “I think your prescription is fuzzy, my little four-eyed kitten,” Dupin replied. His voice carrying a secret layer of venom as his eyes focused on Klaus.

Klaus was struck paralyzed again as he quickly sat back down in his seat.

“You orphans are confused!” The first Elder yelled.

“That is the man who caught Count Olaf,” the second Elder explained.

“The man you wanted to thank,’ the third Elder reminded.

Olaf’s smirk turned wider as he stepped closer to Violet and Klaus. He walked up to their seats, Klaus leaning as far back in his seat as he could. Violet put her arm in front of Klaus’ chest, her only way to protect him in this position. “ Anything for you two,” the man hissed.

Violet’s glared intensified as she shook in her seat in pure anger. “ You’re Olaf,” she hissed.

He smirked at Violet, leaning as close as he could to make sure only she and Klaus could hear him. “No, silly little...pretty orphan,” he hissed. He glanced around making sure the townspeople sitting around the two orphans could not hear him. He waited a second, no one seemed to pay him any attention. “I am Detective Dupin. Officer Luciana has Count Olaf right outside.” He pointed to the door that he had just entered from.

“That’s not possible seeing that I am looking right at Olaf,” Violet hissed back.

“Pay attention, Violet dear, you are going to love this part,” he hissed back grinning as he stood back up to face the crowd.

The Elders slammed down their gavels on their podium. “Officer Luciana! Bring in the prisoner!” one yelled.

Detective Dupin began to applaud wildly. Violet and Klaus glanced towards the doors both confused as to why Violet was going to ‘love’ this part. “Yeah, yeah, baby! Let’s get this hootenanny a-hootin’!”

Violet’s heart sank in her chest as she watched the disguised Esme push the man from the Auction into the Town Hall. The same man from her father’s picture. The man looked a strange mixture of stone-cold and frightened. He was dressed in a discolored shirt that anyone could see used to be white but it hadn’t been washed in a while. Around his wrists was a pair of handcuffs. Both children could see that this man’s hair was made to look like Olaf. But no matter what Esme and Olaf did to try to make this man appear to be Count Olaf, it failed to fool the two orphans. He wasn’t quite as thin as Olaf, he wasn’t as tall as Olaf, he didn’t have dirt under his fingernails like Olaf and most of all, he didn’t have the signature nasty, greedy, and evil look that Detective Dupin was wearing now as he watched Violet’s reaction. “No,” she whimpered. Klaus turned to her confused. Violet, like Klaus, did not know this man personally. But as she looked at him, she could see similarities between him and her father. She could tell immediately that he was a Snicket.

“Move it, prisoner!” Officer Luciana yelled as she pushed Jacques. Jacques growled as Esme gave him a hard shove.

“I prefer to go by ‘volunteer’,” he replied bitterly.

Esme smiled. “And I prefer to go by Donatella Violetta Cappuccino Milano. But you can call me Officer Luciana.” She and Jacques reached the platform where Olaf stood. She grabbed Jacques by his shoulders and turned him around to face the crowd.

Violet stood up desperately. “ That is not Count Olaf!”

“No talking on the platform,” the Elders yelled at her.

“I’m not on the fucking platform!” she yelled back.

Jacques stared at her in shock. His stone-cold demeanor melting as he could see his brother in her eyes.

“Hector, control the orphans!” one Elder yelled.

Hector turned to Violet and Klaus, opened his mouth to speak and then proceeded to faint.

“As a citizen of this village, we should be able to speak!�� Violet protested as Klaus stood up alongside her.

“That man is not Count Olaf!” Klaus yelled pointing at Jacques.

“That dumb fucker is!” Violet yelled pointing at Detective Dupin.

Both Dupin and Luciana glanced towards Violet utterly confused.

“Why should we believe you two children over our chief of police?” an Elder asked.

“Because none of you have met Count Olaf!” Klaus argued.

“That’s true,” Mrs. Morrow admitted. “I’ve never met Count Olaf,”

“Well, I’ve read about him in the newspaper...does that count?” Mr. Lesko asked.

Jacques took this time to lean in close to the two half-siblings. “Violet...it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said offering her a kind smile. “I will say I had hoped we would’ve met in...better...circumstances.” Violet glanced at him worriedly. “Don’t worry. I’ve been in worse scrapes than this,” he whispered. Jacques glanced at Klaus. “Ah, this must be Klaus Baudelaire. You look so much like your parents. Normally, I’d shake your hand and ask ‘How do you do?’ but as you can see,” Jacques offered Klaus a smile as he lifted his wrists. “It’d be a bit tricky.”

“Silence!” An Elder yelled, slamming their gavel down. Jacques rolled his eyes. “These children do have a point. None of us have ever met Olaf.”

Klaus stood up. “But my sister and I have!” he cried. “We’ve had the displeasure of dealing with him on countless occasions.”

“Maybe you have,” Dupin replied bitterly. “But the girl not so much,”

Klaus looked around to see if anyone found that reply a bit odd. The only person who seemed to be responding to Olaf’s idiotic rebuttal was Esme who turned to him incredulously. “You see, Count Olaf has one big eyebrow,”

Officer Luciana smirked towards Klaus. “As you can see, this man also has one eyebrow.” She pointed to Jacques.

“You can clearly tell that that’s been glued on!” he argued.

“Why would Count Olaf glue an eyebrow to his forehead?” she asked feigning confusion.

“ He didn’t! You did!” Klaus yelled.

Violet, on the other hand, was at a loss for words. She just stared at her uncle. Tryin her best not to cry. He looked so much like her father, it was unreal to her. She had never met anyone from her family before so seeing him face to face rather than in some photograph was so surreal for her. Jacques noticed tears forming in her eyes. “Hey, hey. None of that,” he whispered to her. “I’m going to get out of this...okay…”

She looked up at him. Doubt filled her eyes as she slowly nodded. “But if you don’t…”

He offered her a friendly smile. “Don’t think like that...your father had a nasty habit of always thinking so negatively.”

All she could do was nod her head again.

“Fine,” Klaus sighed. “Forget the fucking unibrow. Count Olaf has a tattoo of an eye on his left ankle.”

Klaus smirked thinking he had played his trump card. He was so sure that Jacques wouldn’t have a tattoo on his left ankle. Violet’s eyes widened when she realized that Jacques’ face turned sour. “No,” she whimpered. “Please...tell me you don’t have a tattoo…” she begged Jacques. He glanced down at the ground. “They branded you,” she whispered so low that only Jacques could hear her. “That tattoo is going to seal your doom,” she warned as she glanced up towards Olaf and Esme who were both proudly smirking.

“This man,” Klaus said pointing at Jacques. “Won’t have that heinous tattoo. Watch. And when he doesn’t...I think we should have Detective Dumbass over here take off his left shoe and display his ankle.”

Olaf didn’t glare at Klaus like he had all those other times Klaus or Sunny had nearly ruined his disguise. This worried Klaus. What worried the young orphan boy, even more, was the face that Olaf was making. He was once again smirking at Klaus. He turned to face Jacques who wasn’t glaring at the young boy but glaring towards the two villains. But Klaus didn’t understand why. Surely this man won’t have the tattoo.

Esme walked up to Jacques. “Sir, in the name of the law, would you expose your left ankle to the crowd.”

Jacques glared daggers at Esme. “And if I refuse?” he asked under his breath.

“Now...that’s just an admission of guilt all on its own,” Esme replied back.

Jacques sighed as he gripped onto his left pant leg, pulling his pant leg up. Klaus’ eyes widened as Violet’s heart sank further when they both glanced down at Jacques’ tattooed ankle. The crowd gasped. The Elders gasped. Even Esme gasped for dramatic effect. “But...but...but…” Klaus stuttered. His mind reeling. He felt woozy. “He...he...he’s not...he…” Klaus' eyes rolled back. He felt like he was about to faint. He pointed a finger at Jacques. “That’s...that’s not the man...that’s not my sister’s kidnapper….” he cried. His voice weak. The only two people who seemed worried about Klaus were Violet and Jacques. Detective Dupin walked closer to the boy putting a hand on his shoulder. Klaus flinched from the man’s touch causing Jacques to step in between Olaf and Klaus.

“Thank you for helping Officer Luciana and I identify our prisoner,” Dupin replied. “Maybe you could be a detective when you grow up,” he joked.

Esme walked closer to the three. “ If he grows up,” she whispered. Jacques glared at the two villains.

“Back off the kid,” he whispered harshly.

Esme surprisingly did just that. She turned to the crowd. “As you can see, thanks to the orphan boy’s help. This man has the single eyebrow and the tattoo of an ‘eye’ on his left ankle. Therefore this man is inarguably Count Olaf,”

Olaf took this as his cue to address the crowd as well. “Now that count Olaf is verifiability verified, let’s starting groovin’ on how we’re gonna punish this bad cat. Who’s got suggestions?” he asked the crowd.

The crowd all began to talk over each other. Klaus began to shake so badly. Jacques looked at him confused. “Hey, you okay?” he whispered as Klaus grabbed his shoulder for support. He didn’t answer the man, he merely shook his head. “Come on, sit down next to your sister,” he instructed as he helped Klaus back to his seat the best he could while being handcuffed. Once Klaus sat down, Jacques looked back to Violet. “I am so glad that you found your siblings. Jacquelyn did a great job making sure that happened.”

“Who are you?” Klaus asked still shaking.

“My name is Jacques Snicket,” Jacques replied. “My associate and I tracked the Quagmires and Sunny here...just like you did. We were trying our best to rescue them. As you can see, we’ve suffered some setbacks.”

“I’ll say,” Violet muttered. “What have they done to you? What are they going to do to you?”

Jacques shrugged his shoulders. “I told you...I will get out of this. Don’t you worry your little head. It’s very hard to kill a Snicket.”

Violet frowned at this. She shook her head. “Not really. All you need is a little fire,” she muttered.

Jacques felt his heart sink into his chest. He sighed. He contemplated telling Violet his theory about Lemony. He didn’t want to believe that his baby brother was dead. He truly didn’t. But he didn’t want to give his niece any false hope in the slight chance that all of his theories were dead wrong. He also didn’t want her to think that her father would have abandoned her. Outside of himself, who she’s just met today and her siblings, whom she barely knew. Lemony was the only true family that she knew. He couldn’t torture her like that. So he kept his mouth shut. Not wanting to add any additional unnecessary pain to his niece.

Klaus looked desperately at the man. “Did...did you see Sunny or the Quagmires? Are they all alive...are they well? Where are they?”

Jacques frowned. “I didn’t see them,” he lied. He didn’t want to inform Klaus that he had seen Duncan, Isadora, and Sunny fall unconsciously out of the red herring statue. He didn’t want to inform Klaus that Sunny had a muzzle around her toddler mouth and he didn’t want to admit that when he saw them that he didn’t act in the moment. Because he realized now, that maybe...just maybe he should’ve. He watched Klaus’ desperation take over as tears were forming in his eyes. “But...I’m willing to bet my life that they’re all still alive. Maybe not well...but alive.”

“Detective Dupin, VFD already has a strict system of punishment in place. In accordance with rule number two, which deals with rule-breakers, Count Olaf is to be marched into the center of town and issued a stiff but reasonable fine.” an Elder explained loudly.

Klaus looked to the Elder incredulously. If Count Olaf were actually the one who had been caught he would be arguing relentlessly that Olaf deserved much, much more than a fucking fine. He glared at the vicious man who was giving the Elders the same exact look. Klaus knew his thoughts were vicious, he knew they were immoral. But he couldn’t make himself care at this point. He believed Olaf didn’t deserve jail time. He deserved death. Violet sighed in relief, she too would have argued for a much stricter punishment for the real Olaf but seeing that this was her uncle, she was perfectly fine with a stupid fine. But Olaf and Esme didn’t seem too satisfied.

“That’s all you birds got?” Dupin asked incredulously.

Jacques smirked as he glanced back at his niece and her brother. “How did he capture you?” Violet asked.

“How did you know me? ” Klaus asked realizing that he didn’t get the chance to introduce himself to Jacques. Jacques already knew who he was before he knew who Jacques was.

Jacques smiled at Klaus. “To answer, you Klaus, your family and mine have always been...close.” Jacques looked pointedly at Violet as he answered. “I can see Beatrice and Bertrand in you from a mile away…” he turned to Violet. “I can see Beatrice and my brother in you from miles away as well, Violet. You’ve got the Snicket eyes. Now to answer your question, Violet, Olaf and I have what you’d call a history.”

“I know,” Violet replied. Jacques and Klaus looked at her confused and shocked.

“Why do you have the same eye tattoo as Olaf?” Klaus asked.

Jacques chuckled. “Silly boy, it’s not an eye,” he lifted his pant leg for Klaus and Violet to see his tattoo once more. “Look closer. It’s three letters.” Jacques traced his tattoo with his finger. “V...F...D,”

Klaus’ eyes widened in surprise as Violet’s turned into a glare. Which confused Jacques. He was sure she’d be surprised, too. He knew Lemony would never teach his child about VFD.

“Oooh! Maybe house arrest! And he has to wear one of those scratchy ankle things.” Mr. Lesko suggested loudly.

“You’re getting warmer, fancy pants! But let’s make it hot!” Dupin yelled to the crowd.

“Listen...once I’m free, and I will get free,” he reiterated. “And the Quagmires and Sunny are safe. My associate and I will take you…” he began before being cut off by Esme.

“I know!” she squealed. “I say we burn him at the stake!”

Everyone in the Town Hall got quiet for a second except for Olaf’s troupe who cheered at Esme’s suggestion. Violet’s eyes widened as Klaus looked to the villains in disbelief. Even Jacques’ face turned frightened, as he remembered what Olaf said about his little plan.

“Fantastic idea!” the first Elder replied.

“Tremendous!” the second Elder commented.

“Ethically iffy but very exciting,” the third Elder agreed.

Jacques quickly turned to the two children as the town cheered. “Okay...I may need some help after all,” he admitted. He smiled at Violet. “Ever break a man out of prison?” he asked.

Violet and Klaus looked at one another skeptically. “How hard can it be?” Violet asked uncertainly.

“That’s the Snicket spirit,” Jacques replied. “You sound like your aunt,”

“My aunt…?” Violet asked.

Before Jacques could reply to her. The three Elders smacked their gavels down to silence the crowd.

“Then it is settled!” one yelled.

“Olaf will be burned at the stake tomorrow after breakfast,”

“Meeting adjourned!” the last elder yelled as many townspeople began to get out of their seats heading towards the exit.

“ No!” Violet screamed. “That’s not Count Olaf! That’s my uncle!”

Detective Dupin began to scat happily, smirking towards Jacques and the two children.

“Wait your uncle is Count Olaf?” Mrs. Morrow asked.

Violet shuddered at the mere prospect. “ No!” she screeched.

Klaus stood up quickly trying one last thing to save his sister’s uncle. “Wait! You can’t burn this man. If you believe he is Olaf...then he has my sister and my friends kidnapped. He knows where they are. We should postpone burning him until they're found!” he reasoned.

Officer Luciana just laughed as she roughly grabbed Jacques’ shoulders. Violet glared at her. “Unhand him, you bitch,” she hissed through her tears.

Luciana ignored her. She turned to Klaus. “Don’t worry little orphan boy. We don’t need Count Olaf to find the missing children. We have the great and famous Detective Dupin for that.”

Klaus glared towards the villainous woman as Dupin stepped closer to him. “Yes, Officer Luciana is right. I’ll find the missing children without the help of this vile man.”

“Glad to see you’re self-aware,” Jacques remarked.

“Andiamo, prisoner!” Luciana replied pushing Jacques. Jacques rolled his eyes as he started to walk away from Violet and Klaus. “I’m counting on you, volunteers,” he called out to the children. Violet hated that word so much but she was willing to be a volunteer if it meant saving her family. “Snickets take care of their own,” he called out to her, which hit her into her core. He was right. Snickets did take care of their own.

Violet stood up ready to chase after Luciana and her uncle. Ready to beat down Esme in order to save him.

“Uh uh,” Dupin muttered stepping in front of Violet. “You wouldn’t want to leave the bookworm here...all alone...with me, would you?” he asked in a low whisper grabbing onto Klaus’ shoulder.

Violet glared at Detective Dupin. Jacques turned around to make sure Olaf wasn’t harming either child. “ Get away from her, you fuck!” he barked. Struggling with Esme to turn around and protect his niece and Klaus.

Esme sighed and pulled out her baton. Thwacking Jacques in the side with it as hard as she could. “Let’s go, prisoner!” she yelled as Jacques groaned in pain.

“Uncle cow!” Violet yelled. Her mind was such a mess, she didn’t even realize what she had said until she noticed Olaf laughing.

Jacques rolled his eyes. “Lemony would tell you that fucking story,” he muttered as Esme pushed him out of Violet and Klaus’ sight. Detective Dupin followed behind them, he turned back to the two kids.

“Didn’t I tell you that you would love that part?” he called out to Violet. He wasn’t even turned to face her but she knew he was smirking. She could hear it in his voice. As he walked out of the nearly empty Town Hall, leaving the two kids with Hector, who was slowly standing up. “See you soon, orphans,” he began to maniacally laugh. His laugh echoing the empty Town Hall as he left the two siblings and their guardian.

Violet fell to her knees and began to sob. “No...no...no...this isn’t fair. He can’t...he isn’t...he won’t take anyone else from me!” she hissed reaching for her ribbon.

“Violet...are you okay?” Klaus asked as he helped Hector to his feet.

“Of course, I am,” Violet replied tying her hair tightly. “ Snickets take care of their own.”

There had never been a time that violet Snicket had said that motto and meant it as much as she did at that moment. With a fire burning in her Snicket eyes, she refused to allow Count Olaf to take anyone else from her.

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the-observant-frisbeetarian · 5 years

Text

Chapter 5

Bésame Mucho by George deValier

Winter, 1943 A village in Italy

"You are back in town, Spaniard."

Antonio felt a wave of sick, cold fear roll through his gut. He glanced up sharply, then let out a short sigh of relief. The Turk stared down at him reflectively, that familiar smirk on his lips, that customary red fez perched on his head. He looked pointedly at the chair opposite, and Antonio gave a quick nod.

"So." The Turk sat heavily, leaning back easily in the chair. "We're gonna make this quick. Not a good idea for me to be seen here, you know."

Antonio nodded and took a long sip of wine to calm his nerves. This constant anxiety was starting to wear on him. The unfamiliar feeling was far too common these days, now that too many people in this small village knew his face. "I understand. Though you realise it is far more dangerous for me to be seen at the Cantina Rosso, my friend." Antonio replaced his wine on the table then offered to pour a glass for the Turk, who, as always, shook his head.

"Why else would I trudge to this side of town?" The Turk glanced disdainfully around the nearly empty front room of the Cantina Verde. "I always did prefer red to green."

Antonio raised an eyebrow. "Really? And here I thought your favourite was gold." He tossed a small, rattling bag on the table. The Turk quickly inspected the contents before putting the bag in his pocket.

"You see, this is why I like working with you, Spaniard." The Turk grinned. "You understand the absurdity of paper notes."

Antonio laughed softly. It was so easy to work with people whose only loyalty was to money. Easy but dangerous, considering the amount the Germans were willing to pay to get their hands on Antonio. "The lira is worthless right now. I'd never insult you with it." He leant forward slightly, a tiny, shrewd smile on his lips. "Don't forget that."

The Turk seemed to understand. "I'd be a fool to turn you over to the Germans. Why work for one side when you can work for both?" He shrugged, as though to suggest the absurdity of the suggestion. "But, to business. With the nearby German airbase, it was only a matter of time before the Americans joined our little party. Here." The Turk pulled a thick bundle of string-tied paper from his jacket, placed it on the table, and pushed it towards Antonio. "Transcripts of orders from top American Air Force personnel and maps of projected landing sites. The Americans are going to want to cause as much damage as possible while they have the element of surprise."

"Of course," muttered Antonio, briefly flicking through the papers. "This is what I've been trying to obtain information on..." An American air fighter unit currently based in London, a projected landing south at Anzio… yes, this was just the material he needed to pass on to Roma. Antonio had worked tirelessly on this one mission for weeks - after all, he needed a reason to return to this village. "Now, we know the Americans are landing soon, but we need a way for them to destroy the German airbase and its most dangerous personnel in one swoop."

"Leave that to me, my friend." Antonio glanced up from the papers and the Turk grinned deviously. "I'll find something out. And the moment I do, I'll inform you."

Antonio narrowed his eyes in a brief moment of suspicion. "You wouldn't give the Germans this information, would you?"

The Turk leant back and laughed wildly. "And lose your regular gold donations? Did I not just say that would be foolish? No, Spaniard, you would do well to forget such suspicions. I do suggest, however, that you send someone other than yourself to meet me next time. Someone… innocent looking. You are far too recognisable in these parts nowadays." A calculating gleam appeared in his eyes. "I have to wonder why you return insistently to this one little village when the danger is so great for you."

Antonio shrugged nonchalantly. "I am recognised in many places. My work is as important here as anywhere." But the Turk was right. It was too dangerous for Antonio to be in this village, he knew that. And yet the longer this war drew on and the greater the danger became, the more Antonio felt himself drawn here. To the one place and the one person that mattered.

The Turk did not look convinced. "Some would say you are needed more in the south these days. Roma Vargas runs the resistance in this town as though it were an army unit. He does not require your constant assistance."

"Roma is always grateful for my assistance," said Antonio curtly, eager to drop this line of conversation. He folded the papers and placed them in his bag. "And I am sure he will be grateful for this information."

The Turk nodded, though there remained a knowing, faintly amused look in his eye. "Be careful on your way out of town. There are German patrols on the roads lately."

Antonio did not worry about that. He knew the back roads by now – he knew his way to Lovino's farmhouse. "I will be in town until the landings. I doubt, however, we will meet again." He stood quickly, excitement building in his chest when he finally allowed himself to think of where he was heading. There was no point denying it. Lovino was the real reason Antonio was here; Lovino was the reason he was risking everything. As he headed quickly for the door, Antonio barely heard the Turk speak behind him.

"Good luck, Spaniard."

Lovino slammed the bag of flour onto the kitchen bench and spun around to face Feliciano. His silly brother let out a tiny squeak and took a step backwards. Lovino scowled. "What is that irritating tune you've been humming all afternoon?"

Feliciano just scratched his head with that dim, blank look of his. "Huh? Oh." He shrugged. "It's not irritating, it's pretty." Then he continued humming it as he cheerfully filled the fruit bowl with tomatoes.

Lovino nearly growled in annoyance. Feliciano had arrived late to the Resistenza meeting at the cantina, bounced in and waved like a fool, then simply sat at the back of the room playing with the wireless radio. It was unacceptable. When would Feliciano realise the seriousness of this situation? When would he stop acting like a silly little child and getting away with it? And when would he stop humming that ridiculous song? "It's stupid," said Lovino. "Stop it. Stop it now."

Feliciano pouted and whined, "But Lovino…"

"You need to take things a little more seriously, Feliciano." Lovino could not keep the frustration from his voice. He knew he was probably overreacting, but he hadn't been able to control his frustrated emotions lately. It was now almost a month since he had last seen Antonio. One month since the infuriatingly wonderful Spaniard had held Lovino close as they danced, since he had touched Lovino's tears and said he would wait forever. One lingering, unchanging month that had felt like an eternity and passed like a lifetime. Lovino still felt unworthy, still felt confused. He felt lost in the resistance, always kept from doing anything worthwhile for the cause. But above all, Lovino felt painfully lonely, and painfully sad. So now, he couldn't help feeling irrationally angry that Feliciano could act so damn happy and carefree. "You can't just spend important meetings like that sitting and singing along to the radio. This isn't a game. You need to be serious, like me and Grandpa." Lovino suddenly jumped when a hand landed heavily on his shoulder.

"What's all this I hear about being serious?" Grandpa Roma placed a bag of oranges on the bench, that same dopey grin on his face that Feliciano always wore. Lovino gritted his teeth and glared. Just what he needed - his grandfather acting stupidly cheerful as well. "Don't listen to your brother, Feliciano, he's far too serious for his own good. And you have a beautiful voice, just like your Grandpa!" Lovino tried to respond angrily, but Roma raised a hand. "Try this one…" And then the bastard started singing. Feliciano laughed, clapped joyfully, and of course, joined in. Lovino immediately put his hands over his ears.

*"La donna è mobile, Qual piuma al vento, Muta d'accento - e di pensiero."

"Grandpa, don't be ridiculous!" Lovino silently cursed Verdi, backed away from his embarrassing family, and prepared to flee. Sometimes he honestly wondered if he was related to these people… "I mean it!"

Feliciano giggled, Roma kept that stupid smile on his face, and they both raised their voices as they advanced menacingly on Lovino.

"Sempre un amabile, Leggiadro viso, In pianto o in riso, - è menzognero."

"STOP!" Seriously, did they even know how absurd they looked? Lovino looked around desperately for an escape, only to be impeded as Roma stepped in front of him and placed a cooking pot on his head. Of all things… but Lovino was not going to laugh, damn it. This was not funny, this was childish and ridiculous and… "Go away! Stop it! Leave me alone! You're both crazy and I'm leaving this family!"

"La donna è mobil'. Qual piuma al vento, muta d'accento - e di pensier!"

Lovino finally managed his getaway. He dodged around his childish brother and preposterous grandpa, charging across the kitchen as they gave chase still singing that infuriating canzone. Fighting the laughter rising in his chest, Lovino threw open the kitchen door, ran into the front room, and immediately froze. An icy hot shudder ran down his spine. The blood drained from his face, his breath stopped short, and his heart stuttered a wild, frantic convulsion in his chest. Antonio just smiled back at him from the front doorway. His green eyes sparkled in amusement; his lips held back a burst of laughter. Lovino's cheeks burned with embarrassment. He pulled the pot from his head and scowled angrily. "What are you looking at, bastard?"

"Antonio!" Roma rushed across the room, smiling joyfully, and threw his arms around Antonio warmly. "Ah, thank the good Lord! I was hoping to see you soon!"

"Greetings, Roma!" said Antonio happily. "It's good to see you!" Despite himself, Lovino felt his heart tug at his chest when he realised how tired Antonio looked. He must have been travelling far, and working hard. Lovino suddenly wondered what it would be like if he could walk over to Antonio and take the pack from his shoulder, lead him to the couch, sit beside him, hold him and kiss him and laugh with him… Lovino shook the startling, intruding image away. And he'd thought he was getting so good at ignoring his feelings.

"Antonio!" cried Feliciano, running across the room and jumping excitedly. "Did you bring me a present? Huh, huh, did you?" Antonio laughed and ruffled Feliciano's hair. Lovino folded his arms and scowled, irritated and strangely jealous.

"Of course I did, Feli! This time I have…" Antonio left a dramatic pause before reaching into the large bag slung over his shoulder and pulling out a soccer ball. Feliciano gasped loudly and snatched it from Antonio's hands.

"Yes! Perfect! I lost my last one, actually Lovino lost it, and it's been impossible to find a new one and I've actually been wanting one of these lately because…" Roma slapped Feliciano over the back of the head. "I mean, uh, thank you, Antonio!"

"You're welcome, Feliciano! And I have something special for Lovino!"

Lovino felt his bones freeze. Antonio smiled across the room brightly, enticingly, so warm and kind and good, his messy brown curls slightly too long and his deep green eyes so intense and…

"Lovino, my dear boy!" Roma's words shook Lovino from his transfixed stupor. "Stop being a rude little bastard and get over here."

Lovino remembered himself and plastered a scowl on his face, walking slowly across the room with his arms still folded. He stopped just before Antonio, so close he could touch him, so close he could smell him… Antonio reached into his bag and pulled out a small red object. He tossed it into the air, caught it, and held it out with a flourish, his eyes sparkling with that bright, familiar mischief. Lovino stared curiously at the round object in Antonio's hand.

A tomato. A tomato? The bastard had given Feliciano a soccer ball, and all he had for Lovino was a piece of fruit! After all these weeks, after everything… "A fucking tomato?" Lovino winced as Grandpa Roma smacked him over the back of the head.

"Watch your manners, young man."

Lovino almost forgot the blasted tomato. First he was caught with a pot on his head, now his grandpa chastised him like he was eight years old. Could this situation possibly get any more humiliating? Lovino rubbed his head and glared at Roma angrily. "Why would I want a stupid tomato, Feliciano bought a bag of them today."

"Don't be impolite, and take the tomato."

"I don't want the tomato!"

"Take the fucking tomato, Lovino!"

Lovino snarled and snatched the stupid tomato. However, instead of the soft fruit he expected, the small object in his hand was actually hard and smooth. Lovino felt his brow wrinkle in confusion, then glanced up quizzically at Antonio. The bastard simply winked.

Roma spread his hands apologetically. "Antonio, a thousand apologies. I love my grandsons to death but they can be such rude little shits."

Lovino's neck flushed angrily, but Antonio just laughed and clapped Roma on the back. "Please, Roma, there is nothing to apologise for. It is I who should be apologising for the delay in my arrival. The travel routes have become so difficult in the last few months."

Lovino felt apprehensive at the words. It was just as Roma had been saying in meetings lately – that the military presence around the village had been increasing, that times were growing more perilous. Again, Lovino was reminded of just how dangerous Antonio's work was. Feliciano barely seemed to notice the conversation, gazing at his soccer ball with some silly, far-off look in his eyes. Roma just waved a hand dismissively. "Of course, of course, I understand this. I expect you have information for me?"

Antonio nodded. He and Roma made their way to the large central table, spreading pages of documents from Antonio's bag across the surface. Feliciano bounced over to the couch by the staircase, tossing his ball from hand to hand, but Lovino stayed where he was. Familiar, unpleasant anxiety rolled in his stomach, rose in his chest. He had to know what this information was; had to know just how much Antonio was risking.

"Finally, I've been given information directly from the Americans," said Antonio. He passed a small pile of papers to Roma, who immediately began rifling through them.

"Landing positions," muttered Roma. "I knew that German airbase would bring trouble."

Antonio shrugged. "Of course it was only a matter of time before the Americans wanted this village. What we need now is a plan for them to bring down a large chunk of the occupying military before the inevitable battle. The Germans are spread too thin throughout Italy – they do not have the resources to send immediate support."

"Have you any plan?"

Antonio ran a hand wearily through his hair. "I have someone working on it. But Roma, more than anything else, this is vital." Antonio placed his hand over the papers and fixed Roma's eyes in an intense, solemn stare. "This information must be kept from the Germans. They absolutely must not know about the landing."

Lovino let out a long, silent breath, anxious and uneasy. He went and sat heavily on the couch beside Feliciano, turning the smooth, solid tomato over in his hands. Feliciano reached for it immediately, and Lovino snatched it out of the way.

"Lovino!" Feliciano whined childishly. "Let me see, what is it? It's not actually a tomato, is it?"

"No." Lovino carefully inspected the strange gift from Antonio. "It's hard, like it's made of glass or something." He shook it and it rattled slightly. There seemed to be something inside. Just what did Antonio mean by giving him some sort of glass puzzle? "I think you can open it, but I can't work out how."

"Oooh." Feliciano sounded fascinated. "Why did Antonio give you something terrific like that?"

Lovino scoffed. "Terrific? I don't even know what it is!" Lovino held the object to his ear and shook it again. Yes, there was definitely something inside. He burned to know what it was. Antonio and his stupid little games… didn't he know how much Lovino hated to be kept in the dark? "Stupid Spaniard. This is going to drive me crazy."

Feliciano shrugged, quickly losing interest, and focused again on his soccer ball. Lovino ran his hands gently over the glass tomato, occasionally glancing over at where Roma and Antonio poured over the table of documents. It was obvious how dangerous things were becoming for Antonio. If the Germans discovered his presence in the village, he would be captured, tortured for information… killed. It was becoming so hard for Lovino to reconcile these warring emotions. As hard as he tried, he simply could not deny how drawn he was to Antonio. He could not ignore how much he missed Antonio when he was away, how desperate he was to be with the Spaniard when he returned. Just watching the man now across the room - his face handsome and intent as he talked, his body strong and graceful as he moved - Lovino's chest ached with desire simply to touch him.

But he was still scared. He was scared, because as the months drew on, the more Antonio travelled and learnt and involved himself in confidential military matters. The more the danger against him increased; the more wanted and hunted he became. While at the same time, the more Lovino felt these walls around his heart start to crumble. And the more likely it became that he would be hurt.

It took Lovino a moment to realise he was staring at Antonio, and a further moment to realise that he was staring back. Lovino's heart flipped into his throat. But before he could think how to react, Antonio gave him a tiny smile, and winked. Lovino nearly choked. What did the stupid Spaniard think he was doing? Grandpa Roma was right there! Lovino tried to look unimpressed, rolling his eyes as he looked away. He was not going to smile. He was not going to acknowledge this warm, bright glow that swelled in his chest and tingled down his neck. He was not going to smile, damn it!

Lovino almost sighed with relief when Roma and Antonio stood from the table and traded a few more documents, their short conversation over. Lovino and Feliciano stood immediately to join them. "I will be in town for a few weeks, Roma, so I will keep you informed," said Antonio, thrusting a handful of papers messily into his bag.

Lovino's stomach jumped. A few weeks… He was both terrified and overjoyed at the thought.

Roma smiled as he answered, "Yes, yes. Please come around whenever you are free. Our home is your home, my friend."

At those words, Lovino's stomach turned in circles. Come around whenever you are free… He swallowed heavily. That would be terrible, that would be wonderful, that would be…

"Of course I will!" Antonio smiled brightly and it lit up his eyes, his face, the entire room... Lovino raised his eyes to the ceiling and let out a very long breath. Oh, he didn't think he could do this much longer. His chest ached jealously when Antonio pulled Feliciano into a hug. "Stay safe, Feli."

"Visit soon, Antonio!"

Antonio nodded, turned, and despite every desperate, aching ounce of desire in his body, Lovino took a step backwards. His heart started pounding. Not here… not now… he could not let Antonio put his arms around him, he couldn't handle this, why was Antonio leaning towards him, what was he… Lovino's pounding heart stopped when he felt Antonio's breath warm against his ear. "Still waiting, mi corazón."

Lovino fought back the breathless gasp that rose in his chest. His eyes widened and his face burned bright red. Antonio pulled back, his gaze still on Lovino, a small, delighted smile on his lips and an intense, burning look in his eyes. Their eyes remained locked until Roma quickly grabbed Antonio by the arm, steered him forcefully towards the door, and kissed his cheeks almost violently in farewell. "Until next time! Oh, and Antonio, tell me. Can you sing?"

Antonio smiled a little dazedly, his expression slightly confused. "Sing? Why?"

Roma narrowed his eyes. "Because if you look at my grandson like that again, I will castrate you."

Lovino could not believe it. He felt his face contort in pure shock. How much did Roma know? And how dare he say that to Antonio? "Grandpa!" cried Lovino, absolutely mortified. What must Antonio be thinking?

Antonio's expression turned blank until Roma burst into raucous laughter. Antonio let out a relieved sigh and laughed along.

"No, no," laughed Roma, clapping Antonio heavily on the shoulder. "But Antonio, really…" Roma immediately broke off laughing and caught Antonio's eyes in a dark glare. "I'm deadly serious."

Lovino clapped his hand to his forehead. He was caught between wanting to die of embarrassment and wanting to smash something against the wall. Feliciano just seemed to find it amusing. Antonio backed up to the door, still attempting a valiant smile. "We'll… uh. We'll speak soon, Roma."

"We will!" Roma smiled cheerfully, giving Antonio a happy wave. When Antonio's eyes met his, Lovino did not know whether to look away or try somehow to apologise. Roma, however, made a distinct slicing motion below the waist, so Antonio simply gave Lovino one last smile before rushing out the door. Lovino wondered briefly if it was actually possible to die of embarrassment. Roma just clapped his hands, spun around, and grinned widely. "So," he said merrily. "Who wants pasta for dinner?"

"Ooh, ooh!" Feliciano jumped and raced back into the kitchen.

Lovino growled in his throat as he dragged himself behind. "I'm leaving this family."

Lovino could not sleep. How could he possibly sleep tonight? His head spun with constant, infuriating thoughts of Antonio, with fear and excitement for the coming morning. It was the first time Lovino would be involved in a mission with Antonio. True, Grandpa Roma would be there also, but Lovino still could not control the jumpy, clawing, almost painful nervousness that coiled in his stomach. Since the crippling embarrassment of the previous evening, Lovino had not had the chance to speak with Antonio alone. Now that Grandpa Roma seemed to be growing suspicious, Lovino was starting to wonder if there would ever be a chance – and more importantly, if he even wanted one.

Lovino had done his best to keep Antonio from his mind in the recent weeks. He had done as he always had when trying to forget. He had focused on the resistance, trying to prove he was worthy. It even seemed to be working - Grandpa Roma had finally given Lovino his own pistol. He had thrown himself into organising, thrown himself into celebrating. He had gotten thoroughly drunk a few days earlier at an unplanned celebration in the farmhouse, only to wake the next day with a dry mouth, a pounding head, and the fuzzy, horrifying memory of dancing and singing and playing his guitar on the table. And yet still, always, constantly, Lovino thought of Antonio. Dreamt of him. Waited for him. It was impossible to forget Antonio while he was away, let alone now he was here in the village, a mere walk away. Of course Lovino could not sleep.

And so Lovino lay silently, staring at the wall, unable to hear Feliciano's breathing in the bed across the room. Feliciano had been strangely eager to head to the market today, yet he had come home with nothing but an inexplicable bar of chocolate. Lovino barely had time to consider where he got such a thing. Instead his mind was preoccupied with the memories of Antonio at the cantina today. The Resistenza members had been so happy to see him – but of course, everyone was always happy to see Antonio. Lovino had just sat on a table at the back of the room, watching as they shook Antonio's hand, as they chatted brightly, smiled happily, laughed cheerfully. Everyone liked Antonio. But how could they possibly not? And again, Lovino could not help but wonder: how could someone so damned friendly and popular as Antonio love him?

"Lovino?" Apparently, Feliciano could not sleep either.

"Hmm?"

Feliciano's voice cut straight through Lovino's scattered thoughts. "What do you think of Antonio?"

Lovino almost choked. He gasped, then immediately coughed in an attempt to hide it. He had to remind himself that Feliciano could not read his mind. Feliciano could not know Lovino's feelings for Antonio… surely… "Why on earth would you ask me that?"

"Well, don't you like him?"

Lovino snorted and tried to sound offended. "Like him? That Spanish bastard? Why the hell would I like him?"

"Well, I like him, and Grandpa does, and I just sort of thought that you did. Maybe. A little more than we do."

Lovino's pulse sped up and a tight knot of fear settled in his stomach. But no, Feliciano couldn't possibly know. Lovino had hidden his feelings too well, too completely. How could silly little Feliciano possibly see through that? "Well, I don't."

"Oh." Feliciano sounded surprised. "All right then."

Lovino waited a few moments before breathing a cautious sigh of relief. He did not know what had possessed Feliciano to start asking about this, but Lovino was going to have to be a little more careful from now on. It was bad enough that Grandpa Roma was beginning to have suspicions, but Feliciano… God, Lovino must be more obvious in his emotions than he realised!

"Lovino?"

Lovino gritted his teeth. "What?"

"Have you ever thought of telling Antonio that you… don't like him?"

Lovino's mind went blank. Feliciano knew… The blankets felt suddenly stifling as sweat rose on his neck.

"Lovino?"

"Go to sleep, Feliciano." Lovino hoped Feliciano could not hear the desperation in his voice. He breathed deeply and tried to sort out the frantic thoughts running through his head. If everyone seemed to know Lovino's feelings, what was even the point of trying to hide them anymore? After all, they weren't going away. But he knew the answer; knew the reason. Because he was still so scared of being hurt.

"Lovino?"

Lovino almost jumped. "For God's sake, Feliciano, what do you want?"

Feliciano sounded more certain this time. "You do like Antonio, and you do want to tell him, but you are worried about what might happen when you do. Not that I really blame you, because Grandpa Roma did threaten to castrate him and all, but maybe… maybe if you just explained…"

"Feliciano." Lovino spoke quietly, almost breathlessly. He thought for a moment about how to explain his emotions, his reasons. When he finally spoke, it was almost to himself. Feliciano would probably not even understand. "Sometimes we have feelings which we will never be able to express. Sometimes we have secrets that should stay that way. Sometimes…" Lovino stopped, seeing Antonio's smiling face in the darkness, and realised that he wasn't even sure he believed what he was saying. "Sometimes there are things that are just not worth the risk."

Even as he said it, Lovino knew he was lying to himself. Antonio was all that mattered; Antonio was everything. He took away Lovino's uncertainty, took away his loneliness. There was a void in Lovino that only Antonio could fill, and it was frightening just how empty Lovino was without him. Antonio reached into Lovino, into a place he didn't even know existed, and filled him with a happiness and a belonging and a brilliant joy that went beyond anything he had ever thought possible to experience. When Antonio was away, Lovino existed. It was only when he was with Antonio that Lovino actually lived.

And that was what Lovino risked. That joy, that bliss, that completion. It was what he was so scared to feel, and what he fought so hard against. Because it was what he was scared to lose. Lovino knew if he accepted it, believed it, felt it, and if he then lost it, that he could not survive.

But then he remembered that perfect feeling in Antonio's arms; the brush of Antonio's warm hand on his cheek. Remembered the hope and love in Antonio's eyes, the joy and beauty in his smile. Lovino was drawn to Antonio with every single part of his being.

It was a hard thing to realise. But if Antonio wasn't worth the risk, then nothing was.

The 'mission' was a joke. Four hours traipsing the back roads to a remote mountain posting of fighting partisans, fifteen minutes getting their news of German patrols in the area, and now Lovino trudged the road home bitterly behind Antonio and Grandpa Roma with the distinct feeling they had only brought him along to humour him. He kicked a rock on the dirt track before him, hands in his pockets, scowling to himself. He felt like a fool. What was even the point of Roma giving him a pistol if he was never going to have the chance to use it? Lovino wanted to prove himself worthy. He wanted to show everyone that, despite what they thought, he could be an important member of this resistance too. He could fight for the country he loved. And watching Antonio amble along the road before him, his curly brown hair flying in the wind and his tuneless whistle carrying on the breeze, Lovino could not deny that, more than anything, he wanted to impress this man. He wanted the brave, handsome, infuriatingly cheerful Spaniard to know that he could be brave, also. Lovino wanted to prove himself worthy of Antonio's unfathomable affections.

Lovino kicked the rock forcefully along the trail, quickly growing bored of the unchanging landscape around him. A tall, steep hill loomed over the wide country road and a gently sloping rise led down to green fields and valleys below. Lovino raised his eyes and watched as distant storm clouds massed beyond the mountains. The day had been unseasonably warm, but it was fast growing cooler as the sky began to darken. The wind was also starting to pick up, gusting briskly through the trees that bordered the road. It looked like this pleasant, sunny weather would not last much longer; perhaps there would even be a storm to break the strangely warm winter days.

Lovino grumbled to himself, wiping the sweat from his brow. This boring, pointless walk refused to end, and it felt like they'd been marching forever. When the hell would they stop? Taking a deep breath, Lovino was just about to demand a break, when a loud, sharp bang interrupted him. Lovino's heart leapt to his throat as Antonio and Roma turned quickly at the sound, both reaching for their weapons. Hurriedly, unthinking, Lovino attempted to do the same, only to catch his foot on the unsteady path and stumble. Sharp, burning pain shot through his ankle, and he cried out as he fell.

"LOVINO!" Grandpa Roma's shout was harsh with panic. But it was Antonio who reached him first, falling to his knees before Lovino could even comprehend what was happening. Antonio ran his hands over Lovino's jacket, swift and searching and confusing.

"Lovino, are you hit? Lovino? Roma, scout the direction. Lovino, answer me!"

His chest pounding and his head spinning, Lovino pushed himself upright and batted Antonio's hands away. "Will you stop it, what is your problem, it's just my…" Lovino broke off and gasped, pain searing up his leg in a sudden agonising wave. "…ANKLE, SHIT, OH SHIT!"

Antonio breathed out in relief. "Ah. Gracias a Dios."

Lovino tried to glare, though he had to blink back tears from the pain. "Thank God? It's fucking killing me you bastard, what are you oh shit no don't touch it ARGH!" Lovino felt Grandpa Roma's hand cover his mouth to cut off his scream.

"Lovino. You are all right. Let Antonio check your ankle. It looks like the sound was a snapping tree branch, but there are German patrols along this road sometimes, so you still have to be quiet. And watch your damn mouth."

Lovino scowled angrily. Roma was probably only saying that to shut him up. Surely they would not be walking this road so openly if there was any real chance of a German patrol. Regardless, Lovino nodded, and Roma removed his hand. At the same time, Antonio pulled off his boot, and Lovino had to slam his own hand over his mouth to keep from screaming. He fought to stop himself from kicking Antonio as he ran his hands gently over the tender flesh.

"It's just a sprain," said Antonio, his voice relieved. He smiled brightly at Lovino. "Nothing's broken. You can't put any weight on it, though – we'll have to go slowly."

Roma breathed out heavily. "Ah, good. But we're already running late, and after Feliciano's meeting with the informant today…"

"You can go ahead, Roma." Antonio spoke far too quickly. "I can help Lovino home."

Lovino's eyebrows shot up, his heartbeat racing into his throat. Roma looked from Antonio to Lovino and then out across the valley. He nodded reluctantly. "You know how panicked Feli can get. I had better hurry." Roma headed off immediately down the road, shouting back as he went. "Be as fast as you can, and be careful."

Antonio gave him a small wave. "Always, Roma."

Lovino almost forgot his twisted ankle. Grandpa Roma had left them alone. Lovino was alone with Antonio. Alone for the first time since that mind-spinning dance in the cantina, since that wonderful, terrible, overwhelming conversation in the alley. Lovino did not know how to handle this situation. Antonio smiled at him, bright and joyful and stunning. Lovino glared back. "I don't need your help. I can walk on my own."

Antonio looked doubtful. "If you put any pressure on that ankle it is going to swell up like an overripe tomato."

The mention of tomatoes sent Lovino's thoughts flying directly to the glass tomato sitting in his top drawer at home. His heart beat even faster, sending his heated blood directly to his cheeks. It had only been two days, but Lovino was frustrated as hell that he couldn't figure out how to open the stupid thing. What was with Antonio and these silly little games? "Well then, I'll hop."

Antonio's doubtful expression twisted in amusement. "All the way home?"

Lovino answered defiantly. "Yes."

"I can carry you." Antonio grinned widely and wagged his eyebrows.

Lovino's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, no. No you bloody well can't." He forced himself to his feet, took a determined step forward, and immediately stumbled as a wave of tearing agony shot up his leg. Antonio caught him securely by the arms.

"Oh, Lovino, you are so stubborn. For heaven's sake, let me help you." But Antonio smiled as he said it, helping Lovino hobble to a large rock by the nearby cliff face.

"Don't need your help," Lovino mumbled again, refusing to acknowledge the way Antonio's firm grip stopped the breath in his lungs and sent that familiar shiver up his spine.

"Well, you do need someone to bandage this ankle. Now sit down and just try to relax, will you? No seas tonto."

Lovino sat heavily, glaring as Antonio shoved the boot in his bag and pulled a bandage out. "Don't call me that."

Antonio giggled as he knelt and reached for Lovino's foot. "Okay. No seas tan adorable."

Lovino burned red. "Don't call me that, either!" He shifted on the hard stone, feeling an uncomfortable lump digging into his thigh. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his pointless pistol and placed it on the rock beside him.

Antonio stared at the gun, starkly black against the pale grey rock. "Did your grandpa not tell you? Never take your weapon from your side unless you intend to use it."

Lovino rolled his eyes. Did Antonio think Lovino knew nothing unless Grandpa Roma told him? "I know that! But it's only for a moment, I'll put it right back."

Antonio raised his eyebrows. "Don't forget," he said warningly.

"I'm not stupid," grumbled Lovino. Then he sighed and resigned himself to the painful, embarrassing, gentle feeling of Antonio's warm hands on his tender ankle. Lovino swallowed heavily as Antonio wrapped the long, white bandage carefully around the swelling limb. He searched for something to say, rather than just sit silently staring at Antonio's strong, tanned hands. "Today was not really a dangerous mission, was it?"

Antonio looked up with bright, green eyes though dark, wild curls. "Every mission is dangerous."

Lovino's heart thumped unevenly, so he looked away from those eyes and towards the darkening horizon. "You sound like Grandpa."

Antonio laughed, focusing again on wrapping the white cloth around Lovino's ankle. "But it is true, Lovino."

"He still won't let me go on a real mission. I wish he would stop protecting me."

Antonio shrugged. "Well, that's what you do when you love someone."

That warm touch of Antonio's fingers sent tiny, tingling shocks through Lovino's entire body. He had to admit, grudgingly, that at least it took his mind off the pain. "I can look after myself. I can handle danger."

"I know you can."

Lovino was surprised by his strong elation at Antonio's words, followed by his disappointment when Antonio pinned the bandage and dropped his hands. He very gently patted Lovino's leg to indicate he'd finished, but did not yet move to stand. Lovino peered down at him thoughtfully. "Would you choose me for one of your missions?"

Antonio leant forward slightly, his wind-blown hair falling in his eyes. "Your grandpa would kill me if I went behind his back." Lovino scoffed, but Antonio quickly continued. "But I could always use loyal help - so perhaps I will bring it up with Roma. Besides, you would always be safe with me."

Lovino's mouth practically dropped. He blinked a few times, silent and stunned. Antonio would actually suggest him for a real mission? For something important? "You're serious?" Antonio nodded. Lovino's heart seemed to soar in his chest, the pain in his ankle completely forgotten. Antonio trusted him. Antonio believed he was worthy. The feeling was oddly exhilarating. But more than that… "Why would I be safe with you?"

Antonio winked. "Because I would protect you, with my life."

Lovino reflexively tried to kick Antonio with his uninjured foot, even as his stomach flipped joyfully. "You say the most stupid things, dramatic Spaniard!"

Antonio just giggled. "But I require a promise from you, first."

Lovino folded his arms and glared. Always these stupid little games… "A promise?"

"That if we are ever in danger, you will do exactly as I say."

Lovino regarded Antonio carefully through narrowed eyes. He had made that promise once before. "Fine," he mumbled.

Antonio turned his head slightly, putting his hand to his ear. "What was that?"

"Fine!" Lovino grunted it through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry?" Antonio leant closer, his grin widening - the bastard was obviously having far too much fun. Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Oh for God's sake… I promise."

Antonio laughed and leant back on his heels. "There now, was that so hard?"

Lovino's lips pulled into a small, traitorous smile. "You really do say such stupid, melodramatic things, though."

Antonio threw his bag over his shoulder and grinned. "Ah, but if they can get you to smile like that, how can I resist?"

Lovino's heart fluttered annoyingly. "Oh, just stop it already, do you really think…"

"Ssh." Antonio abruptly raised a hand and turned his head, his smile falling and his eyes hardening. Lovino immediately fell silent, his stomach turning cold at Antonio's startling change of demeanour. He listened carefully, unable to hear anything but the wind, even as an awful anxiety grew horribly in his gut. Antonio did not move. Lovino started to ask what was wrong, when a low rumble sounded softly in the short distance. It grew slowly closer and clearer, until, with a flush of fearful heat, Lovino recognised the sound as a car engine. Antonio's wide, darkened eyes met his, just as Grandpa Roma's words rang in his head - There are German patrols along this road, sometimes... The moment seemed to stretch, hazy and distorted and lasting far too long. It broke when Antonio climbed frantically to his feet, grabbed Lovino by the arm, and dragged him from the dirt track towards the low, sloping rise.

Lovino barely felt the pain in his ankle. He had no time to think or feel anything before Antonio pulled him hurriedly into an embankment beside the road - one of the many trenches that had long been built throughout the Italian countryside. They fell heavily to the ground against the dug out hollow, unseen and sheltered from the road. Lovino's head spun almost painfully. "What are we going to..."

"Ssh, Lovino." Antonio spoke in a firm whisper, his eyes stern and steady, his body almost touching Lovino's in the small, cramped space. "Exactly as I say, remember? Stay silent, and stay completely still. They will drive straight by."

Lovino gulped and nodded, his shock turning quickly to fear. Everything was happening too fast. He tried to breathe evenly through the rising dread, waiting and praying for that sickening rumble of the car engine to pass them by. The sound grew steadily louder and closer, until it blasted down from the road above and Lovino forgot to pray; forgot to breathe. Then it quieted, stuttered, and stopped completely. Lovino felt his heart stop with it. Why were they turning off the engine? Why was the car stopping? Lovino looked at Antonio curiously, desperately, as though he could somehow hear and answer Lovino's silent questions. But Antonio simply looked confused until, with a sudden flash of almost fearful comprehension, his lips parted slightly and his eyes grew wide. And then Lovino realised. His pistol was still sitting conspicuously on that rock beside the road.

Lovino's stomach plunged to his feet. He shook his head in angry denial, icy sweat rising on his skin, burning tears gathering in his eyes. How could he have done something so stupid? Antonio told him not to put the weapon down! He knew not to put the weapon down! "I'm sorry," Lovino whispered, his hand flying to his mouth. Car doors opened and slammed shut above them; heavy, unmistakable German voices drowned out the wind. Fear and shame flooded Lovino's freezing veins. His voice cracked as he whispered again. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm…"

Antonio shook his head and touched his fingers to Lovino's lips. "Ssh. No," he mouthed silently. Then quickly, strongly, he reached an arm around Lovino's waist and pulled him close. Beyond pride, beyond thought, beyond reason, Lovino fell desperately against him. The rough tread of military boots pounded on the road above, punctuated by shouts and orders and those deep, loud, paralysing German voices. Lovino simply clung to Antonio. He couldn't hold back his tears, couldn't think to feel ashamed. He could only hide his face in Antonio's neck and wait.

Breathing rapidly against Antonio's skin, Lovino's heart thumped wildly as his fear mixed with something else. Antonio was so close. Holding Lovino tight, stroking his back and smoothing his hair, touching his cheek and wiping his tears. Antonio calmed him and reassured him and comforted him without saying a word. Lovino closed his eyes. He did not deserve this. He did not deserve Antonio. Because of Lovino, all that now kept Antonio from torture and death was this tiny, shallow trench. If these German soldiers caught him now, if would be Lovino's fault.

Hot, heavy tears refused to stop falling. Lovino did not even care that he was shaking uncontrollably; he could only think about Antonio being captured, being killed, all because of his own stupid mistake... He looked up suddenly, needing somehow to apologise, but stopped short at the look in Antonio's strangely gentle, reassuringly calm, brilliantly green eyes. He did not look angry. He did not look scared. Antonio just looked like the most wonderful, kind, beautiful, important person in Lovino's entire world.

But those harsh German voices kept shouting. Those heavy, pounding boots kept moving, drawing closer, faster, until they were directly above the trench. Lovino realised they weren't stopping. The soldiers were checking the roadside. Panic clawed at Lovino's chest, sickening and overwhelming, too hot and too wrong. He fought back a sob, shaking and sweating, even as Antonio stroked his hair and stared calmly into his eyes. This wasn't real, he couldn't do this, he couldn't breathe…

A deep voice shouted roughly from above. Antonio went rigid. His hand moved to his hip, and Lovino realised with a horrifying wave of dizziness that he was reaching for his gun. Lovino's mind froze with terror. His blood thrummed with it, his throat choked with pounding, clawing fear. He had never felt such terror in his life. Antonio just squeezed him tight, touched his lips to Lovino's ear, and whispered so quietly that Lovino could not be sure he heard it. "With my life."

A shudder ran though Lovino's body as his breath left him. It was almost painful how deeply the realisation struck: Antonio meant those words. Antonio really would die for him. Lovino's chest ached as Antonio rested his forehead against Lovino's own, as their breath mingled and their hearts beat rapidly between them. In these moments that might be their last, all Lovino wanted was to be with Antonio; to hold him, to feel him, to accept what Lovino had never allowed himself to accept before. He closed his eyes and felt the unspoken words pulse through every part of him. I love you.

But then the footsteps stomped back to the road. The shouting voices drifted further away. Lovino held his breath, unable to move, his eyes still clamped shut. Scared to hope; scared to breathe. After what felt like an eternity, the car engine stuttered to life. It revved loudly, screeched deafeningly, and finally the tearing sound took off and disappeared into the distance. Lovino's eyes flew open and he could not hold back a sob of relief, though he again slammed his hand to his mouth immediately. Antonio breathed out heavily and put his pistol away. They stayed lying close for a few moments more, silent, waiting, until Antonio finally looked up and started to move. Lovino panicked immediately. What if it was a trick? What if they were still there? "No, no, no," Lovino whispered, shaking his head, gripping Antonio's arm and trying to stop him.

Antonio smiled reassuringly and took Lovino's hand, squeezing it gently. Then he looked over the top of the dug out embankment. "They're gone."

Lovino shuddered with an overwhelming relief, a cold sweat breaking over his skin. His terrified tears turned into gasping breaths of exhaling release. "Oh, God, Antonio!" he sighed, putting a hand to his heaving chest as though it could help him breathe. And then, suddenly, it hit him. How he'd acted, what he'd done, what he'd said… Lovino had never felt more embarrassed in his life. He snatched his hand from Antonio's, pushed himself upright, and shrunk away. The encompassing shame only made his disgraceful tears worse.

"Lovino?" Antonio sounded concerned.

"No!" Lovino tried instinctively to hide his face. "No, no, I'm an idiot! I made such a stupid mistake! It could have cost everything, and…" Lovino had to gulp for air. "And I'm such a coward!"

Antonio sighed gently, breathily, and laid his hand on Lovino's shoulder. "No, Lovino…"

"Stop!" Lovino flinched from Antonio's touch, angry and confused and humiliated. "Don't be nice to me, stop always being so nice to me! I am just a coward because when something like this happens I fall apart! No wonder Grandpa doesn't let me go on serious missions, because look at me! I'm so afraid! I'm afraid of something happening to you, or to Grandpa, or Feliciano; I'm scared of being captured and tortured and killed, I'm scared of what I feel for you…" Lovino broke off and slammed a hand over his mouth. Oh crap, he'd said that. He had really just said that. "Shit, shit, damn it!" Lovino pulled himself to his feet, having completely forgotten his wounded ankle. He took a single step and fell to the ground. No, no, no… "SHIT!"

Lovino utterly burned with embarrassment. He wanted to disappear; he wanted to die. He wanted a huge gap to open in the ground and swallow him whole. Lovino settled for drawing his knees up, placing his arms around them, and putting his head on his arms. Maybe this was a dream. Maybe he would wake up if he just wished hard enough. Maybe…

"It is okay, Lovino." Lovino felt Antonio sit close beside him, but could not bring himself to look. The air around them grew colder by the second, the cool breeze turning Lovino's sweat icy against his skin. The calm silence of the early evening seemed so much deeper after the earlier harsh and raucous events. They sat in silence for a few moments before Antonio spoke again. "Oh, mi corazón. Everything is okay now."

"No," Lovino mumbled. "It's not."

Antonio paused a moment. "Lovino, you would not be human if you did not get scared."

Lovino scoffed into his arms. "That's easy for you to say. You're not scared of anything. You're the bravest man I know, you don't understand…"

"You think I don't get scared?" Antonio interrupted, then laughed gently, humourlessly. "Lovino, that was terrifying. Of course I was scared. And I am afraid of all those things you mentioned. Of something happening to Roma, to Feli - God forbid, to you. Of being captured…" Antonio sighed wearily. "Of what the Gestapo would do to me."

Lovino shook his head forcefully. "Don't." He could not speak of that. He could not even think of that.

Antonio took a few moments to continue. "I'm afraid of the same things as you, Lovino."

Lovino turned his head on his arms, finally meeting Antonio's gaze. His smile was too understanding, his eyes too kind, his handsome face framed by his falling curls and the darkening sky. Lovino's heart skipped and swelled at the sight. He almost forgot to feel embarrassed.

"Lovino, we all feel fear. But some things are worth pushing through that fear for. Some things are more important." Antonio brushed a lock of hair behind Lovino's ear, a familiar breathtaking gesture that brought with it a flood of memory and emotion. "Some things are worth it."

Lovino could not answer. He could only close his eyes and turn his head away. He did not even know why he did it. It was uncontrollable, an instinct he had nurtured for so long and buried so deep that he had no choice. Denying his feelings for Antonio had become some strange part of him now. Lovino knew he was no longer saving himself from pain – he was only causing it, and yet, he did not know how to stop. He still tried to tell himself that loving Antonio was not worth the pain. Lovino carefully wiped the corner of his eye before another tear could fall.

"Come, Lovino." Antonio reached for Lovino's hand and squeezed it lightly, reassuringly. "It is getting dark. Lean against me, and I will help you."

Lovino nodded silently. He allowed Antonio to help him to his feet, allowed him to place an arm around his waist and help him walk. But he could not look at Antonio. He could not stand to see that hidden disappointment in those kind green eyes.

Antonio chattered aimlessly as they walked. He spoke of the usual topics: places he had been, people he had met. He laughed and joked and even sang occasionally, unfamiliar Spanish tunes and verses that Lovino could not translate. He held Lovino firmly, steadily, keeping the pressure off his ankle and preventing him from falling. The earlier horrifying, humiliating incident faded with the afternoon light, drifted away on the gusting breeze. Lovino remained silent, listening to Antonio's words, keenly aware of that steady arm around his waist and that firm hand holding his. Leaning into his warmth, breathing in his scent, accepting the old comfort and relief of his presence. Feeling like he belonged.

There was something else between them now. A quiet knowledge, an unspoken understanding that this something else was leading somewhere. Every stolen glance, every unchecked thought, every spoken word was building it, uncontrollably, and no matter how scared Lovino might be, nothing could stop it.

And as they walked slowly, brokenly, gradually along the unsteady path beside the main road, Lovino felt a sudden realisation flood through his veins and burst in his mind.

It would not be much longer until he gave in.

Next Chapter

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

#Besame Mucho chapter 5

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