#i hide myself when we’re walking on the street together

[suashii]

suna’s favorite shirt in his closet

#💭 manon’s mind #it’s starting to fade bc he wears it so often #i hide myself when we’re walking on the street together #he’s so embarrassing #but what can i say #he lives by the shirt ;) #𐙚 after hours

[icallhimjoey]

your writing is beautiful and so realistic too. i think that’s what makes you my favourite joseph author. you just stand out with your easy-to-read but pretty style. i also appreciate the fact that you tackle all kinds of stories, from cute to more serious ones, with a touch of humour as well. so yeah bit of a fan (that’s a euphemism) 🤍✨

if that’s alright with you, and if your requests are still open, i would like to indulge myself. i can’t stop thinking about joseph being caught in the middle of a fan mob in london and just getting away from it by stepping into a bookshop/library/coffee shop (owned by our dear reader of course). just a fluffy story about love at first sight (or rather something close to it) 🥹

if your plan was to murder me, you have succeeded my friend.   wordcount: 1.7K 

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Like A Poem

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“Sorry, we’re closed!” You called out when you heard the bell by the door ring as it had opened and closed. You were stood high upon a ladder, leaning against its frame to steady yourself as you restyled shelves on the back wall behind the counter, putting newly released books into place. 

“Oh sorry, I was just… looking for a mensroom?” an awkward voice spoke behind you.

You grabbed hold of the wooden slats in front of you before carefully looking down over your shoulder. 

Joseph Quinn.

You recognized him instantly, and you could see how he looked slightly panicked as he stepped away from the entrance, pressing himself against the side, almost hiding from street view.

You weren’t sure what to say, but you were instantly aware that if Joe got any closer to you, he could easily see right up your skirt.

“This is a book shop,” you said pointedly, but when you saw a group of girls holding out their phones rush past your store, you softened. You put two and two together quick enough. “But we have one in the back,” you nodded your head towards the narrow hallway that lead into the breakroom that was closed off by a door with a sign that read ‘personnel only’.

Joe looked up at you and just stood there for a second, frozen in space, his face blank and his mouth slightly agape. Gawking. You could feel a blush creep up your neck and you smiled before letting an embarrassing chuckle escape your throat, breaking Joe’s trance.

“Thanks so much,” he managed to say after clearing nothing in his throat and he rushed towards the back. You were sure he’d find the bathroom by himself, the probability of him getting lost was naught in your little tucked away store in a quiet side street.

The only reason you were still in business, you knew, was because your bookstore was the exact opposite of a WHSmith’s. Your darkly stained wooden bookshelves reached all the way up to the high ceilings, not a surface in sight that wasn’t covered in literature. Two big old armchairs that had seen many relaxed, reading bodies stood by the window, facing each other. Quaint. Old-timey. Victorian, if you squinted.

If you weren’t the first choice for people to come to for books, you were at least a great Instagram snap location, a quirky hang out for the quiet girls or even the perfect spot for a first date. So, you’d leant into it and had fully embraced the vibe you knew people were after when visiting a tiny little book shop in central London.

Whilst Joe was in the back, you realized the outdoor A-frame sign was still out front, even though you’d already turned the sign on the door over to closed. You climbed down the ladder and quickly made your way outside to bring it in. You couldn’t help but check both ways down the street for the girls you suspected were after selfies with Joseph. They were gone, and you smiled to yourself, happy to have been of service in his escape. 

Stepping back inside, you were struggling your way in past the heavy door, not enough hands or strength to carry the sign and hold the door open at the same time. You could see Joe step out of the breakroom and walk back into the shopfront. When he saw you struggling, Joe immediately shot to help with the heavy sign, taking it from you in a swift move before you could even tell him that you didn't need the help. 

“Oh- thanks,” you mustered. 

“Where do you want it?” 

“Down by the till’s fine,” you pointed, and Joe set it down exactly where you’d normally keep it. You gave him an awkward smile when he turned back to you.

“Thanks for letting me use the toilet,” God, this man was gorgeous. His hair was blonder than you thought it was from having seen him on TV. 

“Of course,” you smiled, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly mesmerized by his eyes. They were almost breathtaking in real life, you thought. When you noticed Joe warily check behind you to look outside the window, you grinned to yourself. 

“They’ve gone, coast is clear.” You stepped around Joe who you saw visibly relax to your words.

You were ready to get back to your duty, plenty of upper shelves still empty and piles of books on the counter that needed to make its way up there. You thought about how tonight you were going to call your mum and tell her how famous actor Joseph Quinn had come into the shop and had used your toilet. How he had been so kind to help you with the A frame. No hint of an ego as he’d graced you with a couple of minutes of his presence.

You expected to hear Joe say goodbye, or to even just hear the bell of the door that he’d open to leave, but you were met with silence when you stepped back onto the ladder. Not fully trusting it, you turned to look back at him and saw him staring at a stack of books on the surface behind you.

“Whoa,” he said, taking one from the top and giving it a closer look. “This looks beautiful.”

You smiled and stepped back down, not minding Joe’s loitering in your closed business.

“They’re gorgeous, aren't they?” you moved some books about to show him more covers. “These are part of Levente Szabo’s ‘Great Books Project’, they’re all classics, but these covers are just… something else. They’re not new, but we didn’t have these ones in yet,” you explained.

“This one’s my favourite,” you pulled a copy of Blindness by José Saramago out and showed it to him. The fully black dust-jacket showed an illustrated naked woman on the front with hands grabbing at her from all sides. To you it conveyed part of the story so perfectly, you’d immediately taken a copy for yourself. You were very aware that it wasn't how running a bookstore worked, but you hadn't cared.

Joe took the book from you with careful fingers that briefly brushed yours in the transaction. He didn’t need to do that, you thought. Joe scanned the cover of the book with great attention and you took a moment to quickly study his face, his body language, through narrowed eyes. If you could read him, you decided you would. You'd read him like you'd read a poem.

You would always find yourself awestruck at poems. Sometimes it would take you a while to understand, or to find meaning, the words a mystery to you at first. But you almost always found their wordplay beautiful. They would invite to find deeper meaning behind them. Yes. You agreed with yourself. You'd read Joe, like you'd read a poem. 

“I know you said you were closed, but…” Joe didn’t move, but his eyes shot up to look straight into yours. His eyebrows followed questioningly as he held out the book to you. Was this a way of flirting? Surely not, don’t be daft.

You took the book from his hands and turned towards the till, powering it back up. “Have you read this one already?” you asked, more so to just fill the silence than anything else. The book was a classic, after all.

“Not yet, I’ve seen the film though. It’s a great story,” Joe reached a hand into his back-pocket, you assumed for his wallet, and you grinned to yourself.

“Of course you’ve seen the film,” you said softly, mostly to yourself, and Joe wasn’t sure if you’d just given away that you knew exactly who he was, but he decided he wasn't going to press it.

“This place is pretty… whimsical?” Joe said as he peered around, eyes traveling up the shelves. “Thanks, I try.” You said, hinting that the shop was yours and you didn’t just work there as an employee.

“Harry Potter-ish.” He concluded. 

“I’ve got those with some redesigned covers too, if you wanted to have a look,” you smiled at him coyly, knowing you were pushing your luck with your sales-pitch. It made Joe laugh. I made Joseph laugh! You could barely hold in the giddy excitement you felt pushing up your throat as you scanned the barcode to ring Joe up.

“Fuck,” your face suddenly fell when you realized.

“I’m sorry,” you winced, both for swearing, and for the news you were about to deliver. “These aren’t in the system yet.” You tapped the book in front of you. “They’re not for sale until tomorrow.”

You made sorry eyes at Joe as he dropped his head in defeat. But he was quick to whip it back up. “No worries,” he took a step back and swung his arms wide. “What time you open tomorrow? 9?” Joe guessed. 

You stared at him, your facial expression blank and unwavering. 

“10.” You corrected him. 

“Alright,” he nodded slowly. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow. At 10.” Joe kept taking backwards steps towards the door. 

“See you... tomorrow?” the words left you mouth in utter state of confusion at what was happening. Joe shot you one last smile before turning and leaving out the door. The second the door shut, you let your knees buckle and you dramatically fell to the floor, disappearing behind the counter. 

How was anyone going to believe what had just happened? 

You caught your breath for a second, replaying every word spoken and every look shared in your mind. Surely, you had to be dreaming. Or at least, reading into things too much. Yes. That was probably it. He’d just been a kind customer. Nothing special. Just some dude. Nothing to write home about. Nothing to read home about.

You stood back up and wiped down your skirt but froze immediately when you saw Joe through the window, standing outside the door still, a wide grin pulling at his cheeks. 

Oh no.

You buried your burning face into your hands before peeking at him through your fingers. He laughed, and so you laughed too. You were such an idiot.

Joe gave a small, last wave and turned on his heel with a small hop, truly leaving this time. And as if on cue, your phone rang. You quickly checked to see who it was before answering immediately.

“Mum, you’ll never guess what’s just happened,”     part two             

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #fanfiction #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joe x reader #joseph x reader #joey quinn #requested

[aprendimos-el-idioma-del-amor]

Chenford + why did you date Ashley?

This was fun to write. This is Tim and Lucy dating and also one of my headcanon of what kind of date they would be going on. I hope you like this.

Love will take you high and we'll be sitting on top of the world

“There you are,” Tim heard Lucy and turned around to the sound of her voice, “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

They were standing in the bullpen, most people were on patrol so there weren’t many people there.

Tim’s face instantly softened as he saw her and he smiled at her. He rested his hands on his duty belt, he went on patrol day to make sure he was first at the scene whenever they got close to the man they were looking for with Metro.

“Hey, what’s up?” he said in greeting.

“I just came here to tell you that you have to keep your evening open,” she said with an excited smile. She was ready to surprise him big time.

“You know I can’t,” he explained with a frown, “There’s a game on tonight.”

“Will you please come with me?” she gave him a smile and rested her hand on his arm, “I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Tim sighed, knowing very well he can’t say no to her. He shook his head in resignation.

“Fine but it better be good,” he looked stern at her but he softened once he saw her smile widen.

“Isn’t that always the case with me?” she said smugly.

“Shouldn’t be going back to work?” he changed the subject. He didn’t want to admit she was right.

“I see what you’re doing but I’ll prove myself right tonight,” she said excitedly and then left to go back on patrol with Aaron.

Tim looked back at her smiling until she was out of sight. How did he get so lucky with her? He spent the rest of the day wondering what she had in store tonight, he was curious to finally find out.

***

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Lucy said as she waited in the kitchen, practically jumping up and down in excitement.

Tim emerged from the bathroom where he was picking out clothes to wear and said in exasperation: “It’d go a lot quicker if I knew where we were going so I could know what to wear.”

“Just put on a comfy shirt, you’ll know more once we’re in the car,” she said as she handed him a shirt, “Now, put it on so we can go. We'll be late.”

“I don’t like this,” he said as he sat in the passenger seat while she took her seat behind the wheel in her car.

She gave him a beaming smile and asked: “Which part? That you’re not the one driving or that we’re going somewhere you don’t know because you hate surprises.”

“No, that we’re driving in your car,” he deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes in answer and started up the car. He shook his head in disbelief but he couldn’t hide his smile. He liked how excited she was, it was worth not knowing the surprise and missing the game tonight.

***

After a short drive, Lucy parked and said: “We’re here.”

He looked around, seeing nothing but street lights and houses. He turned around to look at her with a questioning look on his face.

“Where exactly are we?” he glared at her, not getting where this is going.

“Here’s our stop to change and then we’ll walk to where we actually need to be,” she explained, still smiling from ear to ear.

He frowned at her but she ignored his look and reached in the back of her car for a gym bag. She took out a few pieces of clothing. Tim stayed silent as he looked curiously at what she was doing.

She handed him a shirt and after a quick look, his eyes widened. He looked at her with the biggest smile she’s ever seen on him.

“Are you serious?” he asked, clear joy in his voice. Holding his Dodgers shirt in his hands.

When he looked up at Lucy to say thank you, she was already wearing her own Dodgers shirt and a Dodgers baseball cap.

“You got your own Dodgers gear?” he asked in disbelief.

“With the amount of games we watched together, I thought it was about time to get some,” she smiled and took one of his hands in hers.

Tim smiled shyly at her and leaned in to kiss her. Their lips touch lightly. They pulled away quickly, remembering they needed to get going to make it in time before the game starts.

“You’re amazing, thank you,” Tim said and gave her a peck on the lips, smiling at her while he put on his Dodgers shirt.

“You’re very welcome,” she said smugly, “I just thought it’d be nice to watch an actual game for a date instead of constantly watching games together. I thought it’d be more fun.”

He smiled at her in answer and held out his hand for her to take. 

“Let’s get going, the game is about to start.”

***

They walked hand in hand to the stadium and soon enough, they got to their seats. While Tim was anxiously waiting for the game to start, Lucy went to get snacks for both of them.

He looked around the crowd and the field in wonder. He never thought he’d do this with anyone he was dating. He always seemed to be the only one who was ever interested in sports.

He didn’t mind doing this alone or with some friends but now that he knew what it was like to be with someone who enjoyed doing what he likes. He liked the feeling a lot. Sharing his interests with someone felt amazing, he didn’t want to lose it. It gave him a strange feeling of exhilaration.

Lucy quickly returned with the snacks. She handed them to him and he gave her a hug and held her tight to thank her again for doing this.

A few hours later and the game was almost over and it’s a close call. Brasier was at the pitch and the team could only win with a homerun. 

Lucy saw Tim clenching his fists in anticipation for the throw. He was so into the game, he didn’t notice anything else. 

“Come on, you can do this,” he yelled along with other fans and started hollering.

She always liked seeing him being so into the game, he didn’t hold back anything when he was watching a game. It was rare and she enjoyed all the rare moments he was willing to give her.

She took his hand and squeezed in support and he gave her an appreciative smile. He squeezed her hand tightly, holding his breath for the next move.

Once the player started running, his voice became louder and louder and then in the last seconds, he made the homerun and Tim jumped up from his seat and cheered, taking Lucy with him.

He smiled in apology when he noticed what he did but all she could do was smile. She was happy to have arranged this. It was the best date ever.

***

Once they got back to her apartment, they sat down on the couch. Her head was resting on his shoulder while his hand rested on her thigh, rubbing small circles in it.

“Thank you for tonight. It was an amazing date,” he said as he looked at her with a tender look.

“Would you say it’s the best date you ever had?” she teased, looking at him.

“It is,” he said seriously, no teasing heard in his voice.

Her breath hitched as she heard how serious he was. She really didn’t expect that answer but it pleased her greatly that he said that. 

She didn’t want to show him her surprise and continued teasing: “What? Were all your dates that horrible before? Going to a game together wasn’t all that.”

He sighed, looking away but said: “It’s just I’ve never gone to a baseball game with Isabel or any one else I’ve dated before.”

She sat upright in surprise and said: “Really? Not even with Ashley.”

He raised his eyebrows, she should know that was something that would never happen between them. She knew all too well how different they were.

“I’ve never really shared any interest with her, she wanted to try out seafood restaurants and go swimming in the newest pools,” he said as he shrugged nonchalantly.

“That’s not you,” she said and paused for a minute, “I’ve never asked but Tim, why did you date Ashley if you didn’t have anything in common?”

“I guess it was just easy, she was there and we had fun the day we met. After that, I just went along with the flow,” he said absentmindedly, thinking about the time he was with Ashley.

She looked at him to find something but she didn’t know what.

“You thought you wouldn’t find anything better so you settled because you didn’t want to be alone anymore. Even if it’s not what you imagined, at least you had someone,” she said, analyzing his reaction.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said, trying to avoid the subject. She hit the nail on the head and he didn’t want her to figure out more of the truth so he went to stand up.

She stopped him by putting a hand on her arm and turning him around. She looked up at him and frowned: “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

“I guess…” he paused and then decided to just let it out, “It was also because I tried to bury my feelings for you. I didn’t think we had a chance.”

She rested her hands on his cheeks and rubbed circles on them with her thumb. She looked him in the eyes and said: “Tim, listen. You don’t have to settle anymore, you deserve to get everything you want.”

“And I will, with you,” his smile finally returned and she was relieved he wasn’t upset anymore.

He caressed her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. She returned the kiss without hesitation, their lips moving together in sync. The kiss was getting intenser and Tim backed up to her bedroom, taking her along with him. Their lips never leave each other.

“Right now, I just want you,” he said in a husky voice.

All she did was kiss him again and push him into her bedroom, the door closing behind them.

#the rookie #chenford #my fanfiction #lucy chen #tim bradford #anon #answered #fic request

[go-to-the-mirror]

We return you now to a safe place. The Street Cleaners have passed. Street Cleaning Day, as so many other days, is behind us. We emerge from hiding spots, from secret locations, from places under other places. We step out into the street, and it is as though it is brand new to us. Certainly, it is cleaner now, but that is not all. We have survived all the way from birth to this very moment, and we look at each other, and some of us start laughing and others start weeping and one or two of us break out into a wordless humming song, and all of us mean the exact same thing.

(Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 15 — Street Cleaning Day)

Somewhere the tiny people of the city below have arrived in Night Vale, and are beginning their war against us, having already shown themselves capable of murder. Somewhere a man in a tan jacket is whispering into the ears of our mayor, and we do not know what agenda they pursue. […] This all happens, somewhere else. But here, Carlos and I sat on the trunk of that car, his car, looking together at the lights up in the sky above the Arby’s. They were beautiful in the hushed twilight, shimmering in a night sky already coming alive with bits of the universe.

(Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 25 — One Year Later)

But.... In spite of all this, coach al-Mujaheed called a pep rally last Friday, in a gesture of support for Malik Herrera. This, as any time, is when we should join as a town, despite the game that never was. […] Everyone was sad, and everything was perfect. We stayed late into the night under the fluorescent corona of the bleachers, eating damp barbecue, wearing our orange ponchos, and telling those tales we wanted to tell to those loved ones who have left us, telling them instead to those who we currently or may eventually love. Tears were hardly noticeable on our rain-streaked cheeks by the time we said our goodbyes.

(Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 56 — Homecoming)

And they both take the hand of the person they love, and Amber smiles at Wilson and Wilson smiles at Amber and everyone smiles at everyone and at everything and no one is okay, exactly, but we’re outside and we’re smiling and that is a kind of perfection of its own.

(Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 57 — The List)

Night Vale isn't a single unified thing that can love or be loved. It's just the name slapped onto a set of borders and rules that some old bureaucrats [..] devised centuries ago. But they don't live here anymore. We do. I do, and I can make it worth it. I can’t just leave it, I have to live it. Live it and make it better. For myself. For Carlos. For my friends. […] And for you, listeners. We will together celebrate another homecoming game. We will together survive another street cleaning. We will together… well we will see.

(Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 70B — Review)

Our reality is badly damaged, and the only thing keeping it together is our acknowledgement, finally, of this strange town that we live in. No more denial. We must see ourselves clearly or risk losing ourselves forever. Angels are real. Our town is a deeply weird place. We know and acknowledge that it is a deeply weird place. There are dotted lines and arrows in the sky. And I love my family, and I love my brother Steve. He was right about everything. He always has been.

(Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 110: Matryoshka)

This is my work, listeners. My work is to speak to you all. To talk you through the day. To murmur you into the night. Settling in to be another clear and pretty evening here in Night Vale, this weird, weird town. I hope all of you out there have someone to sleep through it with. I know I do.

(Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 111 — Summer 2017, Night Vale, USA)

Carlos and I hold each other through the town, passing two teenage boys dressed in scraps of of airplane upholstery, gripping tightly each others’ faces. We help a lost toddler find his parents. We clear broken glass from streets. We walk home. We shade our eyes from the setting sunset which kindles through a hilltop cleft. We talk nonstop about today about tomorrow about yesterday about every possible moment, just talking, and talking, because we almost lost our talk forever. We do not hear the returning echo of sirens across the valley. We do not hear anything but ourselves. Stay tuned next for a silence that is all your own.

(Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 167 — Echo)

And I say: “Look at the clouds in the sky. They mean nothing, and yet they are there and they are pretty. Isn’t that nice?”

(Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 181 — C****s)

The day after Valentine’s we said “it’s over” but we did not believe it was over. We believed it would never be over, that we would always be living the same sad and terrifying minute, breathing the same stale air thick with our own fear. But we were not in that moment anymore. But we were, some part of us, still. The day after Valentine’s was a rebuilding, a recovery, a return to form, a back to business. Bury the bodies and stand up the fences, it’s time to move on.

(Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 202 — The Day After the Day)

“What do we do now?” I asked him. He smiled, “First we go home, eat meals together, remember that we are a community, and that we are better together than we are alone.”

(Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 230 — Carlos, Explained)

#wtnv #wtnv 15 #wtnv 25 #wtnv 56 #wtnv 57 #wtnv 70 #wtnv 70b #wtnv 110 #wtnv 111 #wtnv 167 #wtnv 181 #wtnv 202 #wtnv 230 #my lonely quotations

[everythingpresley]

Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 22

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Jessica Anderson is Elvis Presley's assistant and after months of working together, slowly something sparks between them. Friendship? Or is it more? [ Fem!Reader ]

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+), Slowburn

    ||     Word Count: 8,476

Masterlist

Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 22

This thing with Elvis continued for a few days. He would stand outside of my apartment and wait with stuff in his hands. It got harder and harder to ignore his presence. He would stand there everyday with something new in his hands. 

My kitchen counter was filled with vases of wilting sunflowers. I had one of the vases on my coffee table because it was too pretty and I had another one on my vanity. I had way too many flowers in my tiny apartment. If anyone were to walk into my apartment they would think I sell sunflowers out of my living room.

The other day, I took some sunflowers and wrapped them for Sara and Haley just to get rid of them. Elvis of course was grinning when he saw me with the flowers but he panicked for a second thinking I was throwing them away.

“I’m not throwing them away. They’re way too pretty and that would be a waste.” I told him as I passed him on the street while walking to work.

My alarm didn’t ring today and I was running late, I didn’t have time to eat or even make coffee. I was rushing out the door.

“Wow! What’s the rush!” Elvis called out.

“My alarm didn’t ring.” I grumbled, speed walking down the street in my heels.

“Here.” He said, jogging to walk next to me and handed me a coffee.

I huffed and took it from him, taking a sip of the coffee as I walked. He smiled and looked down at his shoes, still walking next to me.

“What?” I asked him.

“It’s just you’re actually drinking it.” He replied “And you’re talking to me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I just didn’t have time to drink coffee.” I grumbled.

He hummed, ignoring what I just said. I smiled but covered my lips with the coffee cup before taking another sip. No! I shouldn’t smile! He can’t fool me by being cute and adorable. 

“You don’t have to walk me to work.”

“I want to.” He replied. 

“It’s a fifteen minute walk.” I warned him.

“I wish it was longer.” He smirked. 

I rolled my eyes, biting down on my lip to stop myself from smiling. 

“You look so hot in a pencil skirt.” He said after a bit while we walked “I hope no one is staring at your ass at work.”

I frowned and punched his shoulder.

“Ouch!” He laughed and rubbed his shoulder.

“You do not get to say those things to me anymore.”  

He frowned and looked down at his shoes “Why?”

“Because we’re not together anymore, Elvis.” 

“I fucked up Jess.” He whispered.

“Yeah. You did. Have a good day Elvis.” I said and walked into our office building leaving behind a sulking Elvis standing outside. I hoped no one notices that Elvis Presley is just casually standing around in the middle of New York City. But honestly the best place to hide in plain sight is New York, no one cares to pay attention. Everyone is speed walking and is on a mission, no one is looking around. It’s such a busy city that no one spots him plus he’s underdressed, doesn't look like the Elvis Presley. 

“I’ll walk you home.” Ben said as we all left the office.

“Oh that’s okay, there’s no need.” I smiled, shaking my head. 

“I actually go to a specific barber and I’ll pass by your place anyway.” Ben shrugged.

“Oh okay.” I nodded but inside I panicked. Elvis might see us. Ben might see Elvis. Please God be on my side today, I don't need any added drama right now. I didn’t need Elvis to get upset that a man is walking me home from work.  

I talked as we walked to my apartment, stopping by a hotdog stand and grabbing hotdogs as we did. I had skipped lunch at work so I was scarfing the hotdog down. 

When we finally reached my place I spotted Elvis standing there with a frown on his face. His eyes drifting between Ben and I. 

I widened my eyes and mouthed “Hide.”

Elvis thank god understood what I meant and ducked his head. Thankfully Ben didn’t notice anything.

“Thanks Ben, see you at work.” I smiled.

“See ya!” He grinned and continued walking. I waited till he rounded the corner before I turned to look at Elvis. 

Elvis looked at me with narrowed eyes “That was the same guy that was in your apartment.” He stated, not asked.

I frowned in confusion, Elvis didn’t see him so how the heck does he know that he was in my apartment. 

“How did you know?” I asked him.

“I waited all night to see if there were actually girls in your apartment.” He replied.

I raised a brow “You know a lot of people live in this building right?” 

“Yeah but when they walked out they were talking about you.” Elvis replied “They were saying oh Jess is so sweet and so kind.”

“You’re such a weirdo. Why the heck would I lie to you?” I scoffed. 

“I don’t know.” He shrugged “To spare my feelings. I did have a panic attack in front of you.”

I shook my head, this man will be the death of me.

“Has that happened before?”

“What?”

“The panic attack?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair “Yes. Once.”

“When?” I frowned. I’ve never seen him have a panic attack.

He looked down at his shoes and shuffled his feet “The day you left.” He said, his voice barely a whisper. 

“You mean the day you dumped me on my ass and fired me.” I corrected.

He pouted “Jess.” 

I frowned, my heart clenching in my chest “I don't get it.”

“I know. Can I please explain? Can we talk?” He pleaded, his eyes wide. 

“No. You don’t get to talk. You don’t deserve a second of my time and I gave you enough of my time today.” I said, turning my back to Elvis and walked up the steps that led to my building. 

“Jess. Please. I need you baby.” He sighed.

“Don’t call me that.” I said with a clenched jaw and turned back to face him, while standing on the top of the steps “Two months later you decide you need me again and show up out of the blue expecting me to take you back like nothing? Like you didn't destroy me and rip my heart out?” 

“Honey.” His lips trembled once again “I never ever wanted to, please let me explain.”

I shook my head no and walked into my building. 

Why did I feel guilty for hurting him, why did I feel so sad whenever I saw his lower lip tremble and tears gathered in his eyes because of me. I wasn’t trying to hurt him, I wasn’t trying to make him sad but I was putting boundaries which he wasn’t respecting. I can’t deal with this heartbreak all over again. Heck I’m still in this cycle of heartbreak and I can’t believe he hurt me so much. So, no I’m not forgiving him that easily and why does he get to speak right now when he gave me his reasons before. He was bored…

I walked into my apartment, my head down as I bent to take off my heels. I looked up at my shoe rack to place my shoes on the rack to see my cowboy boots that Elvis got me for Christmas that I deliberately left behind. How the heck does he keep getting into my apartment? I shoved me heels on the shoe rack and turned to throw my work bag on the kitchen island only to see the matching cowboy hats that he got with the boots. 

My eyes lingered on the pink cowboy hat, memories from that night at the honky tonk ran through my mind. It was a good night prior to the Matt thing. The Photo Booth being one of them.

I sighed, deciding it was best to ignore that they were even there and walked into my bathroom to shower and get dressed into pjs. My landline rang just as I wrapped my body into my bathrobe. 

“Hello.” I answered.

“Hey!” Grace’s voice filtered through. 

“Hey! I haven’t spoken to you in a bit. How are you?” 

“I’m good! How are you? How’s New York? Any new changes?” She asked, speaking very fast. 

“You know he’s here don't you?” I scowled.

“Huh?” 

“Grace.”

“Okay fine. Yes. I know.”

“Grace. Where you the one who told him where I live?” I asked her. Please let it not be her because I’m gonna be so pissed if it was.

She stayed quiet for a bit “Yes. I’m sorry Jess. He begged me to tell him where you lived. And I thought maybe you two could work it out.”

“Grace. I cried to you every night. You know how much he hurt me. You know what he said to me. How could you do that?” I felt so betrayed at the instant because if the roles were reversed and someone was shitty to Grace I would never allow that person to step back into her life because I wouldn't want her to hurt again and make the same mistake. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“He was horrible to me.” I whispered, tears filling my eyes “And you knew that. And now he’s here and he won’t leave and somehow he can come and go out of my apartment as he pleases. That’s not normal.”

“That’s because he loves you and wants to make things right.”

“No he doesn’t! If he did he wouldn’t have hurt me like this!”

“Jess-“

“No, Grace. I-I have to go, I don’t want to talk right now. Bye.” I said and hung up. 

I walked back into my room and stood in front of my vanity, grabbing my hair brush and as I went to brush my hair. I look at my reflection in the mirror, my eyes slightly red from tearing up but what caught my eye was a photo of Elvis and I kissing in Hawaii. I took a second to admire the picture, it really turned out beautifully. The sunset behind us on the top of the mountain, the Hawaiian view and Elvis and I probably at our happiest. 

“Argh!” I yelled and slammed my hairbrush down on the top of my vanity. How dare he walk around my apartment like he owns the place. Go into my room and put up a picture of him and I on my mirror. I growled and walked over to the window, throwing it open.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yelled at Elvis.

A woman passing by looked up at me with wide eyes and pointed at herself.

“Sorry Ma’am, not you. The asshole behind you.” I said while Elvis placed his hand over his mouth, throwing his head back as he laughed. 

The woman nodded and continued walking. 

“How are you getting into my apartment?” 

“Your super.” He shrugged.

“That’s an invasion of privacy!”

“I know you front and back. I know every inch of your body inside and out. I know everything about you.” Elvis replied. 

“Oh my god.” I shut my eyes and ran my hands through my hair in frustration, he didn’t understand why it was wrong “How can he just let you in? I don’t get it.”

“I’m Elvis Presley and I told him you’re my girlfriend and he just let me in.” 

“Elvis.” I hissed “Stop. Please. Leave me alone.”

“I can’t.” He whispered “I’m not giving up on us.”

“You already did.” 

He winced and looked down at his feet as I shut the window. 

It was finally the weekend and instead of being holed up in my apartment I decided to go for a walk in Central Park and maybe get an ice cream on this hot summer day. It was already May and it was hot as hell in my apartment. I threw on some high waisted jean shorts, a cut off button up and my converse. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail and shoved my keys in my pocket as I skipped down the stairs. 

Of course, to no one’s surprise Elvis was already there, fanning himself with a newspaper. 

“It’s hot as hell. Why are you still standing here?” I asked him.

He bit his lower lip, his eyes doing a full body scan, lingering on my legs before reaching my face again “Even it was storming or snowing I would still be here.” He smiled softly. 

I rolled my eyes “Glad to know my stalker will stop at nothing.” I said sarcastically.

He chuckled and shook his head “Where are you going dressed so cute.” 

“Walk in the park.” I replied and walked in the direction of the park. I could hear him follow me but keeping a few feet between us. 

“You can just walk with me if you’re following me either way.” I grumbled, not really wanting him here but at the same time I just wanted to be closer to him. I hated myself right now. This is a running theme right now, hating myself when it comes to Elvis. Hating that I still loved that he was here and fighting for me, for us. Even though he’s the one that destroyed me and us. I hated the constant conflict in my head, I didn’t want to go through that again. Especially when it came out of nowhere, it felt like getting hit by a car and getting fully run over not just getting hit. 

“Really?” He asked but before I could answer he jogged over to walk next to me.

“Yes but no talking.” I replied, looking straight ahead.

“Whatever you say princess, as long as you’re next to me.” He grinned, looking up at the sun with eyes closed.

“We’re crossing the street, open your eyes.” I grumbled again and pulled his arm to stop him from crossing the street with his eyes closed.

He opened his eyes, his smile faltering slightly as he looked down at where my hand was on his forearm. I gulped and pulled my hand back, I missed his touch, I missed his warmth, his hugs. His smell whenever we would cuddle. I quickly jogged across the street when I saw there were no cars.

“Woah! It’s still red!” Elvis shouted but jogged after me. 

“If there are no cars, just cross.” I replied, slowing my pace once I reached the other side of the street. 

“Okay we get it you’re a New Yorker now.” He joked. 

I bit back a smile and rolled my eyes.

“One point for Elvis! Finally a smile!” He announced, throwing his arms up in the air in victory when he saw me trying not to smile. And that made me chuckled “Two points!” 

“Shut up.” I grumbled and pushed his arm. 

Finally we got to the park after walking in silence but for some reason it was a very comfortable silence after two months for not seeing each other, we still had that sort of comfort around each other. We didn’t have anything to talk about anyway because if we were to actually talk I would cuss him out for hurting me and he would have to explain why he did it but he already did and there’s nothing I want to hear. I don’t want to hear the words he told me again but saying how he regrets saying them. I’m not some toy, when he got bored he threw me away but now he misses me and wants me back. It’s not fair. He doesn't get to have me like that again, I deserve way better. 

We walked into the park, a girl was dressed in her workout gear and her eyes widened when she spotted us. Oops I think she knows that’s Elvis. 

Elvis smiled at her but kept walking and she just jogged past us but with her head turned over her shoulder as she stared at us for another second. I think she’s doubting that that’s Elvis. Because what are the odds that Elvis Presley himself is just walking around Central Park with some girl, dressed down and without the Mafia. It’s very out of the ordinary that people wouldn’t think it’s him. 

I gasped “Ice cream!” I squealed and jogged over to the ice cream vender. I got a typical vanilla ice cream cone with a chocolate bar on the side of it. Elvis got a vanilla ice cream sandwich. 

Elvis paid for our ice creams “This feels like a date.” he winked.

“You wish.” I replied and licked my ice cream “You know what, let me pay for my ice cream. I don’t need you to pay for anything.” 

“Woah, relax. I’m kidding.” Elvis rolled his eyes. 

I huffed through my nose and started to walk towards the Bethesda fountain.

“I’ve always seen this fountain in movies and the first time I saw it I felt chills.” I said.

“Really? It’s just a fountain.” Elvis shrugged.

I rolled my eyes “If you got a gun from one of your favorite movies would you be excited?” I asked him.

“Well yeah but that’s different.” He replied.

“No, it’s the same thing. Maybe movie magic happened right here. The actors were standing right here!” I pointed excitedly.

He grinned.

“What?” I asked him. 

“Nothing.” He shook his head with a smile still on his face “You just look really cute when you’re excited.”

I blushed and turned away from him, I heard him chuckle because he probably saw my cheeks redden. Argh! He still has that affect on me. 

We sat down under a tree on a patch of grass that overlooked the lake where people were kayaking. We continued to eat our fast-melting ice cream, staring out at the water. 

“It’s been a week since you got here.” I said quietly.

“Yeah.” He replied, taking a bite out of his ice cream sandwich. 

“How are you here?” I turned my head to the left to face him “How did the Colonel and your dad let you come here and stay this long?”

“I don’t care.” Elvis shrugged “I didn’t really ask for their permission.”

I frowned, staring at him “You’re here on your own?”

“Yup. I got on my private plane and came here. I’m staying at a little hotel a few blocks from you.”

“And how long are you staying?” 

“It’s up to you.” He shrugged.  

“Elvis. If you’re expecting me to forgive you, then it’s gonna take a very long time. I can’t just get over it.” I said and turned my head back towards the water. 

“I’ll wait then. I don’t care how long it takes. Screw the Colonel.” 

I gulped, why now. Why is he willing to do whatever it takes to get us back together now? 

“Did you take the photo off of your mirror?” He asked, his voice barely above whisper.

“None of your business. And you shouldn't be walking in and out of my apartment as you please Elvis.” I said sternly, facing him once again.

“It was just two times.” He threw his hands up in surrender “You kept that picture up?”

“Yes, but only because I forgot to take it down.” I grumbled, looking back at the water. I lied. I definitely did not forget but for some reason I just didn't want to take it down.

“Charlie keeps calling me, telling me the Colonel is furious and we have some shows coming up next week.” Elvis said.

“Elvis.” I looked at him with wide eyes “Go. You need to go.”

Elvis shook his head, his eyes giving me a glimpse of sadness “I don’t care to perform Jess.” He whispered “I-I can’t even think of being on a stage right now. My life feels hollow.”

“Maybe getting back on stage will help fill that hollow. You haven’t performed since Hawaii maybe it’s just your body’s way of telling you you miss it.”

Elvis narrowed his eyes “That’s not why my life feels hollow and you know it.”

“Don’t start.” I shook my head.

“We need to talk about it.” 

I sighed and shook my head “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t need to hear whatever you have to say and how you regret saying those words to me.”

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

I kept looking out at the water and took his hand in mine, squeezing it slightly because I still felt like I had to comfort him. We stared out at the water, hand in hand. His hand completely engulfing mine and I loved it. Don’t think for a second I loved loving it. I hated that I loved it. 

In that moment it was as if time stood still and we were still each other’s, it felt relatively normal to be holding hands.

I let go of his hand after a little bit and I could feel him staring at the side of my face. He scooted closer to me slightly then reached for a piece of hair that escaped my ponytail and pushed it back behind my ear. I turned my head to face him, his face was closer than I expected. 

His eyes drifted to my eyes down to my mouth and back up to my eyes “You haven’t made proper eye contact with me since my panic attack.” He whispered, his hand that pushed my hair back was now cupping my cheek. It was true. I couldn’t look at his beautiful blue eyes. For a while those eyes were the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes and it hurt to see them.

“I couldn’t.” I whispered.

He leaned forward, his eyes drifting down to my lips as he did. I licked my lips, my eyes also lingering at his full mouth that I haven’t kissed in two months but I pulled back. His hand that was cupping my cheek fell from my face. 

“You don’t get to do that.” I shook my head. I mentally applauded myself for pulling away. There was always this magnetism, this pull when it came to him. I couldn’t help but lean closer to him so it was twice as hard to pull away and I was actually able to do it.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair “But I did see your eyes look at my lips.” True but I wasn’t about to confirm it. 

“I was actually looking at your sad excuse of a mustache.” I replied.

He laughed and shook his head making me chuckle “I don’t really find the time to shave.” He said. His side burns were slightly overgrown and his upper lip had a five o’clock shadow of a mustache.

“Why? You find the time to stand outside of my apartment all day, you can’t find the time to shave?”  I asked with a raised brow and a smirk on my face.

“Ha ha.” He said sarcastically but he had a small smile on his face. 

“I missed this.” He whispered, looking out at the water. 

I bit my lip and nodded. I did miss this with him, us joking around with each other. I remembered the first few months of being his assistant was like this. This constant pull to one another but also the constant jokes between us, not wanting to admit we wanted to screw each other’s brains out at every opportunity we could get. 

The sun was setting, filled up on drinks and junk food but didn’t really have an actual meal then we decided to head back. We walked in silence all the way back to my apartment. He stood and watched me walk up the steps that led to my building.

“I’m gonna get you back you know.” He called out. 

I turned back to face him and raised my eyebrow “Really?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Oh yeah.Then I’m gonna marry you.” He continued, his eyes getting glassy as he spoke. My mouth opened slightly in shock at what he was saying, my heart skipped a beat and my arms fell to my side “Then we’re gonna have a bunch of little babies looking like me and you running around Graceland. As many as you want, it’s up to you.” 

“And that’s not a promise. It’s a fact.” He concluded. 

I gulped, tears filling my eyes, my lower lip trembled. I said nothing and turned back towards the building, rushing in.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I slammed my apartment door shut and leaned against it, throwing my head back till it banged against the door. I bit my lip to stop myself from crying but it was no use, tears came rushing down my face. 

Now? Now? After two months he comes and says the things I’ve wanted to hear for so long. Instead of happiness my heart filled with hurt and pain of what could’ve been.

He said he wants to marry me and have kids with me. 

That. Right there. Was my dream come true. Him. But now its tainted with his words. I can’t believe what he was saying and how did he expect me to believe him because two months ago he told me the exact opposite. I don’t need to repeat those words again. I’m sick and tired of hearing them on constant repeat in my mind. 

Screw him for messing me up like this. I was also starting to slowly let him in however him saying those things did the opposite. I’m now rushing to rebuild the wall I had built, the one I unintentionally started to take a part because I still love him. 

I hate him. I love him. I hate how much I love him. 

The next couple of days I just completely ignored him and he pouted when I didn’t bat en eyelash in his direction. I bet he was confused as to why I reacted this way. He probably thought I didn’t want him like that which wasn’t true but it hurt so much to love him the way I did. I didn’t want to feel that excruciating pain again. He showed up time and time again with flowers, coffee, cookies, ice cream. Nothing. Even though I really wanted to grab those yummy foods from his hands and continue to ignore him. He knows how hard it is for me to say no to food. 

One night I was asleep and felt something hover of me. I felt something caress my cheek softly, barely touching my skin but close enough that it tickled slightly. I opened my eyes, my heart beating out of my chest because I was a girl, living alone in New York City. I looked up to see a man hovering over me. 

A scream lodged in my throat.

“Woah! It’s just me!” Elvis said with wide eyes, reaching over to turn on the lamp on my bedside table.

“What the actual fuck!” I yelled and pushed him his hands away from me. I shoved my covers off of my body and got out of bed “Are you insane?” I yelled and smacked his chest, pushing him back. My heart was still pounding in my chest, I could feel myself shaking slightly from the shock of seeing someone standing above me while I slept.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He said, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“How the hell did you get in here?!” 

“You didn’t put the deadbolt on your door.” He gulped.

I looked at him with wide, enraged eyes.

“I check every night that you properly lock your door and today you didn’t.” He said.

“But how can you even open the door?” My nostrils flared.

“Umm.” He winced and scratched the back of his head “Don’t be mad.”

“Should. I. Be. Mad?” I said with a clenched jaw.

“If you get mad, I won’t tell you.” 

“Elvis. I. Am. Not. In the mood right now.” I practically growled. 

“Okay. Fine. When your super let me in the second time, I made a copy of the key. Told him I was your boyfriend, who was living here and I lost my key.” He gives me a sheepish smile.

My jaw dropped to the floor “You’ve officially reached a new level. Are you kidding me? And what the hell, what kind of security is there if everyone can just show up and come up with a lie and just get access to my apartment.”

“Yeah. That’s why you should move! You’re in a sketchy area. And your superintendent is a big fat idiot. I’ll buy a penthouse and we can live there. There’s a really nice place that overlooks Central Park and has a doorman. Top notch.” Elvis replied.

“Elvis! Shut up and give me my key!” I said and stretched my palm out to him.

He frowned, his lower lip jutted out in a pout “B-but that’s my key.”

“Elvis. I swear to god!” I yelled. 

“Wow. I’ve never seen you this mad. Ever.” He whispered and shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out the key and placed it in my palm. 

“Get. Out.” 

“I really wanna talk Jess. Please.” 

“For the millionth time. I don't want to talk. Go.” I gave him a little shove towards my bedroom door. I don’t really push people but he really pissed me off plus it’s Elvis, my shoves don’t really do anything, he didn’t even move but I’m guessing he saw how angry I looked because he didn’t keep fighting me and headed towards the door.

“Fine.” He sighed, hanging his head low and left “Lock your door and put your deadbolt on the door!” He called out before closing the door to my apartment. 

I threw the key on the kitchen counter and locked the door, securing the deadbolt. I completely forget to do it earlier even though I always make sure to lock everything. I just wasn't expecting someone to have a copy of my key. 

“Good morning.” He smiled once I stepped out of the building. I ignored him and walked down the street.

“Okay, I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have made copies of your key. I get it now, thats an invasion of privacy even though you practically lived in my room for 4 months.” He said following me.

I frowned and turned to face him “Copies?” I asked, over annunciating the word.

His eyes widened, halting in his steps “Umm.”

“Elvis.” I clenched my jaw. 

He sighed and shoved his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out another key, handing it to me with a sheepish smile on his face like that’s going to save him “Sorry.”

I knew he gave it up too easily last night. I snatched the key from his hand “Do you have more?”

“I swear I only made two copies.” He raised his hands up in surrender. 

“If you don't know why this is messed up I really can’t help you Elvis.” I said throwing the key into my work bag “If the roles were reversed I would be some crazy stalker ex girlfriend and your fans would come for my throat.”

He winced “Okay fine. It was creepy of me to be there in the middle of the night but I-I just really miss you. I miss being around you. I miss going to sleep in your arms. Heck, I haven’t had a decent sleep since before you left.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Elvis.” I sighed. How do I respond to that. I wanted to tell him that I missed him too. I missed being in his arms. 

“I want you to tell me you miss me just as much as I miss you.” He said, his lower lip quivering as he spoke “I want you to tell me you want me back.” He whispered. 

“Look now is not the time, I’m gonna be late to work.” I gulped. 

“Well when is the right time?” He gripped my forearm to stop me from walking away from him “You don’t want to talk to me. But I really need to say what I have to say.”

“I can’t.” I whispered “The last time we talked you hurt me really badly.” I shook my head “I don’t want to ever feel like that ever again.” I pulled my arm from his grip and walked away. 

He bit his lower lip and let his hand slide off of my forearm.

“Hey.” Ben smiled, leaning against my desk as I stared aimlessly at the computer screen and I wish it was even on so that I can pretend I was working. 

“Hey.” I smiled.

“Are you okay? You seem too quiet this week.” Ben asked with furrowed eyebrows. 

I shook my head with a smile on my face “Yeah, fine. Just long week.” I chuckled.

Ben winced “Your reply doesn't seem true. Fine. No one is just fine but I will pretend to believe you.” He said making me actually chuckle with humor this time. 

“Thanks Ben.” 

“Here I got some cookies with my coffee earlier, you can have them.” Ben placed a bag of three cookies on my table.

“It’s okay Ben.” I shook my head. 

“Take them! Your face is making me sad.” Ben chuckled, rolling his eyes. 

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” I chuckled and shrugged before opening the bag, pulled out a cookie and then passed the bag to Ben who also took out a piece of cookie. 

On the way back to work it started pouring which was horrible but thankfully I changed from heels to sneakers and practically ran home since I didn’t bring an umbrella. For crying out loud it was summer in New York and it was sunny in the morning so I did not expect it to rain. 

Once I could see my building I spotted Elvis standing there with an umbrella over his head and a bag of McDonald’s in his hand. 

I frowned, ignoring him and not letting my eyes linger on him. My stomach growled hungrily just from seeing the bag in his hands.

“You’re soaking!” He frowned and rushed towards me, stopping me from being able to walk up the stairs. He raised the umbrella over both of our heads but he had to stand very close to fit both of us under the umbrella.

“I got you McDonalds’.”

I narrowed my eyes at the bag and took it from him before side stepping him to go into my apartment. But he moved behind me, keeping the umbrella over my head as I walked up the stairs. 

“You’re welcome.” He replied sarcastically.

I turned to face him “I’m wet, I’m cold and I’m hungry. And you’re annoying.”

He grinned when I said that, I don’t know why he always smiles when I say how annoying he is. 

I rolled my eyes and walked into my building.

I placed the bag on my kitchen counter and rushed into my bathroom to take a hot shower. I peeled my wet clothes off of my body and jumped into the scalding hot shower. I wanted to stay longer but I didn’t want the McDonald’s to get cold, I did have some fries while I walked up the stairs to my apartment and they were still warm meaning Elvis got them knowing what time I get back from work. My heart warmed at the gesture but I was still fuming at the fact that he thought it was okay for him to make copies of my key which is very typical Elvis behavior thinking he can do whatever the hell he wants to do. 

I wrapped myself into my bathrobe and brushed my hair before pushing it back over my shoulder then walked into the kitchen, took the bag and got settled on the couch. I pulled open the bag to see two double cheeseburgers, nuggets, fries and a coke. I placed them on the coffee table and turned on the TV. 

It has been a few minutes and I hoped Elvis went back to his hotel because it started raining heavily again. I got up from the couch and peaked to see him leaning against the lamp post under his umbrella, drinking his McDonald’s coke. I groaned, feeling bad so I opened the window and poked my head out.

“Elvis! Go home! You’ll get sick!” I yelled.

He looked up and grinned “Aww Jess, you still care about me baby?”

I rolled my eyes.

“I told you, I’m not leaving even if it was storming or snowing!” He yelled back, his voice muffled from the sound of the raindrops slapping against the pavement.

“Please. Go.” 

He shook his head and went back to sipping his coke.

I groaned and sighed before “Come up!”

His head snapped up and he looked at me with wide eyes “Can I?” He asked with a hopeful expression on his face.

“Yes. Quick before I change my mind.” I rolled my eyes.

He grinned and threw his coke in the trash before he closed his umbrella and ran towards the door.

“Don’t run! You’ll slip!” I yelled before I closed the window. 

It took him a few seconds because by the time I closed the window and walked towards the door, Elvis was already standing there. 

“Hey.” He smiled.

“Hi.” I replied, pushing the door wider for him to pass. There was enough space for him to pass but he brushed up against me while looking down at me. I rolled my eyes at him and closed the door once he walked in. 

As soon as he walked in, he shrugged his jacket off and draped it over the couch before he plopped down as if this was a usual occurrence. I sat down next to him but deliberately sat on the very opposite side of the couch, away from him as possible and pushed one of the cheeseburgers towards him “Did you eat?” 

He shook his head no and took the cheeseburger. 

“You really stand there all day?” I asked him.

He shook his head no “I know when you get home and when you leave for work so I just stay in my hotel room in the meantime.”

“Elvis. It’s coming up to two weeks since you’ve arrived.” I told him.

He nodded as he chewed. 

“The Colonel hates me as is, I think he wants to kill me now.” 

“He doesn’t know why I’m here and they don’t know which hotel I’m staying at.” He replied, talking with his mouth full. 

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.

“Because I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to get you back and I don’t know how I can get you to hear me out so… I’ll stay there until you decide you want to talk to me.” He shrugged. He looked tired. There were dark bags under his eyes, his blue eyes were a bit dull than usual. His face was slightly skinnier but in a unhealthy way, his cheeks were fuller back when we were together and that made my heart hurt. My eyes were analyzing his face as he ate. 

“Oh how I missed when you would look at me like that.” He smiled sadly “You would stare at me with those beautiful green eyes all the time.” 

I smiled sadly and turned back to face the TV. 

“I need you.” He whispered, after we sat in silence and ate our food, sharing the fries and nuggets together. 

“I think you should go home.” I replied, turning to face him on the couch, tucking my legs under me.

“It’s still raining pretty heavily.” He replied.

“I mean Memphis.” I said which made him frown and shake his head “I need to be on my own for a while, Elvis.”

“Okay then I’ll wait.” He shrugged.

“That’s the thing, you don’t have to. We tried it and we didn’t work. Maybe-“ I gulped, finding it hard to say the next words because in my heart I didn’t believe a word I was saying “Maybe there’s someone else for you.”

He scoffed, frowning “B-but I-I don’t want anyone else. I already found my person and I’m the one for you.”

“I know you’re the one for me Elvis.” I replied “But maybe I’m not the one for you.”

“Then why won't you take me back?” 

I gulped, my throat burning and my eyes blurred with tears “You hurt me so bad.”

“I know, baby. I am so sorry, I so damn sorry.” He said and inched closer to me “Please-please forgive me, please.”

I bit my lip, tears flowing down my face. 

“Honey.” He said, cupped my cheeks and kissed my tears away. I let him, I couldn't push him away because I missed his lips. 

He then slowly inched towards me lips. He hovered over my lips, his eyes staring directly into mine, I could see the tears in his eyes “Can I kiss you?” he whispered. 

I nodded, not being able to talk.

He kissed my lips gently and slowly. He sighed against my lips “I missed your lips.” 

I couldn’t talk, I felt so overwhelmed with emotion, I had missed him so much but I was able to kiss him back. This is exactly why I did everything to avoid him because it’s so easy to fall back to our usual routine. I shouldn’t have let him into my apartment, being stuck with him in such a small space… we were bound to kiss. 

He pulled away but hovered super close, tears streaming down his face “I feel like I can breathe again.” he whispered. 

“I don’t want to talk, just kiss me.” I replied and pulled on his shirt to kiss him again. 

He complied and kissed me. He gently pushed me back against the couch, laying me down on the couch while he hovered over me, not breaking the kiss.

I was still in my bathrobe, he tugged on the bathrobe belt and untied it. He pulled it open, I was fully naked already. He pulled back, his eyes fully taking me in “Oh lord.”

I gripped his shirt again and pulled him down to continue kissing him.

He kissed down my neck, I gripped his pants and unbuttoned them. 

He quickly shrugged off his pants and shirt which was already half way unbuttoned by me. I kissed his neck and chest, inhaling his scent. His scent was a mix of his musk, rain and sandalwood. 

We both had tears streaming down our faces as we climaxed together. We didn't talk at all but we could both tell how much it was affecting us and how much we had missed each other. 

He laid his head down on my chest and we just held each other. 

He moved his head and looked down at me “I lo-“ he started but I placed my palm over his mouth, stopping him from actually saying the words.

“Don’t.” I frowned.

“Why not?” He said, his voice muffled by my hand.

I shook my head “Get off me.” I said, removing my hand and pushed his shoulders. 

“Jess.” he sighed and got up, pulling his clothes on while I picked up my bathrobe from the floor and shrugged it on. 

“Jess, I don’t deserve you, I never have and I never will but I will work to be the best I can be for you. We were really good together.” He said.

“We were never actually together though, right? It was just sex.” I replied, throwing his words back at him.

“Why are you being so cruel?” He whispered.

My jaw dropped at that “Oh, I’m being cruel? I’m being cruel?” I said with wide eyes “You had no problem saying it to my face but now that I’m the one saying it to you, I’m being cruel?” 

“I never once looked you in the eyes when I said those horrible words. Not once. I couldn't because I knew the moment I looked into those green eyes that I love so much I would break and pull you back in my arms and never let you go.” 

“Then why? Why did you say them?” I asked, my voice cracking “Elvis. You made me feel beautiful and loved then you crushed me just like that and threw me away. And it killed me.” My lips  turning into a frown, tears wielding in my eyes. 

“I-I would never throw you away Jess.” Elvis cried, tears running down his face “You-you are my whole heart. It killed me seeing you walk out of Graceland with your bags but I thought I was doing the manly thing here. I was a man letting go of his whole world, his whole heart, his life for you to pressure your dreams.”  He sobbed, stuttering as he spoke. 

“What?” I let out an audible breath, in shock “You-you knew about my interview?”

“Yes.” He said and wiped his tears “You deserve to accomplish your dreams. I can’t be the one to stand between you and your dreams, you already had to change your path for your sister, I wasn’t about to do that to you again.” 

“How did you find out?”

“I overheard you and Grace talking by the pool. You had your backs turned towards the house and I had just gotten home when I saw you two sitting outside and then I overheard everything. And you said it yourself “I’m throwing away my dreams for this man”. It killed me when you said that.” He winced, wiping his face “I couldn't let you do that.”

I scoffed, my sadness turning into anger “You had no right to do that! I was miserable! Miserable! I cried myself to sleep every night! I thought you didn’t want me, that everything we had was a lie!” I yelled, tears streaming down my face in anger. 

“Jess.” He cried his shoulders shaking as he spoke.

“We could’ve communicated like adults but you had to go and make that decision for me! That wasn’t up to you! That was my decision and you took it from me!”

“I didn’t want you to end up resenting me down the line when we're married with kids. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you ended up hating me for not pursuing your career and your dream.” Elvis replied, shaking his head. 

“But I hated you!” I yelled “I hated you for breaking my heart. For making me feel like I was nothing to you.” I sobbed. 

“I broke my own heart in the process, Jess.” He sobbed “But I didn’t care if I was miserable, I wanted you to be happy. That became my number one priority, you. Always you. I thought for once I wasn’t going to be selfish, I was gonna do the right thing.” 

“Then why now? Why are you here after two months of dead silence from your end?” I asked.

“Whenever I would see Grace I would ask her about you and she would always say how happy you are and how you’re thriving in New York and loving it.” He gulped, taking a deep breath to stop his voice from wavering “But the other day she saw me crying outside by the pool and I told her everything about how I overheard you two talking and I decided to end it just in time for you to go for your interview then she told me that you were miserable and sad and you missed me.” He bit his lip and shook his head, trying his best not to cry “That moment I just packed whatever I saw in front of me and left for New York.” 

I shook my head and sat down on the couch, covering my face with my hands as I sobbed in them. I could feel Elvis take a seat opposite of me on my coffee table and grabbed my hands pulling them gently off of my face.

“I’m so mad at you.” I whispered.

“I know.” He whispered, wiping my tears. 

“Elvis.” I shook my head, pushing his hands away from me “Dreams change. Plans change. You became my new dream. I wanted you for the rest of my life and I didn’t give two shirts about my career.” 

“I-I didn’t know that.” He whispered, his voice cracking. 

“Because you didn’t ask me what I wanted, Elvis.” I replied “You made my choice for me without even asking me what I wanted. I wanted you. Yes, I was giving up my dreams for you but I did it gladly.” 

He bent his head down and held his head, crying into his hands “I’m so sorry. I never, ever meant those words I just knew that they would do the trick. I knew those words would get you to leave and I said them.” 

“All I did was love you.” I whispered, my heart breaking even more. I know he thinks he was doing the right thing but he just destroyed us for two months. He was miserable and I was miserable. 

“I know.” He sobbed “I love you, Jess. So damn much.” He said, looking up at me. His blue eyes seemed brighter due to the redness around them. 

He leaned forward, cupped my cheeks and kissed me “I love you.” He repeated, against my lips.

“You need to go.” I replied, tilting my head back. 

“What?” His lower lip trembled.

“Please. I just need to think about all of this and I can’t do that with you here.” I said and stood up, walking towards my front door.

I opened the door for him and before he left, he leaned in and kissed my cheek “If you’re not coming back to Graceland then I’m staying here.” He whispered in my ear.

“Elvis.” I sighed.

He pulled back “I already looked at a few places, that penthouse I told you about is really nice. I’m staying here if you are and you can’t stop me. And if you don’t want to stay in New York then I’ll follow you to wherever it is you want to go to because you’re my home, Jess.” 

I bit my lip and tilted my head down. He kissed my cheek again and left. I locked the door and leaned against it, crying silently. 

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[mythicamagic]

Bloodstained Roses: A Chevalier x MC two-shot. Part Two [End]

Summary: Chevalier has been hiding a secret affliction, something he comes to learn as: Hanahaki Disease.

AN: Part two be here! Want part one? That's here too! You can read it here on Ao3 too.

TW: Blood, Virgin smut and copious amounts of fluff

--------

He hadn’t realised the date on the calendar when proposing their visit to her old bookshop. Beltane was a loud, busy time. Everyone in the palace town flooded the cobblestone streets, swarming together in the townsquare to make the merry walk together to Primrose Field, eager to partake in the festival of Flora and dance around maypoles. A large pavilion awaited them there, where food and drink would be served and games played. Black’s faction would all attend, and he imagined Clavis likely stopping by to cause mischief. Chevalier had never attended.

Emma sat in the carriage with him, oddly quiet today. He wondered if their conversation yesterday had unnerved her. 

Chevalier waited as their carriage was held up, unable to move due to the influx of people. “Did you not want to join them?”

She seemed startled out of her reverie. “Hm?”

He gestured outside to the people hurrying by, carrying armfuls of flowers. Spring was something he thought Emma would enjoy celebrating. 

“Oh, I usually do!” she caught on, nodding with a forced smile. She stared outside with a listless gaze, thoroughly distracted. “It’s just- I couldn’t exactly enjoy myself today while knowing you were in pain, Prince Chevalier. You wanted to find that book and that’s exactly what we’re doing.”

How decisive of her. She almost sounded bossy. His lips quirked at the edges.

His attention locked on another bouquet being carried by a hopeful-looking man. 

"Did you receive flowers?" he asked softly, unable to talk too loud due to his fragile throat.

Emma seemed to understand what he was referring to, gazing at the people walking by.

"A few times," she smiled shyly. Ever the humble woman. 

Beltane was an opportune time to gift your crush with their favourite flower. As Chevalier understood it, there were a lot of intricacies surrounding the act. If a man asked a woman’s favourite flower the week before Beltane he was seen as thoughtless and unorganised, things like that.

"In retrospect, I shouldn't have accepted them," Emma's eyes gentled. "I did so out of a sense of obligation, and that doesn't help anyone. I think I confused Rio and other men because of it."

"You accepted flowers from Arthurs when really you wanted your Lancelot," he smirked.

Emma giggled, a pretty sound. "Oh, I don't want a love like that. I want-" she suddenly stopped, eyes widening. She ducked her head and looked away.

Chevalier decided not to push. 

"And what did the Mutt give you?" 

"Red roses."

He snorted, resting his cheek against his knuckles and propping his elbow against the window rest in a manner unbefitting of royalty. "Fairly standard, are they not?"

"They're still my favourite," nostalgia touched her features like the warmth of sunlight. "They remind me of-"

"Romance of the Rose," Chevalier guessed, correctly if her blush was anything to go by. He couldn't stop the amusement from entering his voice, "careful, foolish Rabbit. One could accuse you of being predictable."

Emma exhaled sharply through her nose, giving an endearingly grumpy pout. "Alright- may I ask what your favourite flower is then- if mine is oh so standard."

Chevalier chuckled quietly at her tone, turning his head to hide a smile in his glove. "Blue roses, I suppose," he lifted a shoulder. 

Emma blinked. "You accuse me of being predictable but you ask the impossible," she said. "Blue roses don't exist."

"Fitting then. It's equally as impossible that someone would present me with flowers at Beltane."

"You don't know that…" empathic and concerned as always, he expected her gaze to show pity. Instead, a firmness had crept into her expression. He didn't understand it.

"Maybe they would, if you attended," she added.

"There's no point in doing so."

His presence only served to make children cry.

She chewed on her bottom lip, and that was the end of the conversation. 

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

They’d eventually made it to her quiet little bookshop, the owner apparently absent- a ‘Closed’ sign hung in the window. No doubt he’d gone to join the festivities along with everyone else. Chevalier glanced around the abandoned square as Emma produced a spare key, fiddling with the lock. “Mr. Akatsuki won’t mind if we stop by,” she said, opening the door with a click and beckoning him over. 

Chevalier joined her inside, taking in the familiar, wonderful scent of books. Greedy eyes ran over the new titles he’d yet to read, but the dry tickle gradually worsening in his throat forced him to focus. Before he could even attempt to start searching, Emma left the room, disappearing in the back of the shop with a “-it's through here!”

Pale lips twitched, and Chevalier dutifully followed, finding her browsing through various shelved books, yanking one out with a joyous grin. 

"Here! I thought so,” she cracked it open to lay flat on a writing desk. “This is a collection that has a short story describing what you mentioned yesterday."

Chevalier leaned over her shoulder slightly to peer at the open book, brushing against the warmth of her back. He felt her stiffen, voice wavering. "Hanahaki Disease,” she murmured. “I've never heard of this affliction in real life. I think this is one of Mr. Akatsuki’s books."

"From overseas, I suspect."

 Emma nodded. Chevalier’s eyes quickly scanned over the pages, patiently waiting for Emma to catch up, though he needn’t have waited long. He hid a private smile in her hair, ignoring the pain in his throat and reaching around her to turn the page just as she did. Their fingers bumped, and she hesitated, becoming rigid against his chest- but he elected to smother the leap in his heart and continue reading. The story barely spanned five pages. 

It was about a woman very much in love, but whether out of shyness or lack of confidence- she did not confess it. Each day, she deteriorated little by little due to holding in the depth of her feelings. And then the unthinkable happened, and those feelings took shape, manifesting into thorns that choked her throat and flowers that would spill from her lips. Even so, she would not confess- to the point that her feelings eventually forced themselves to be displayed…

By ripping open her ribcage, exposing her flower-filled innards to her horrified love. 

Chevalier stiffened as he reached the conclusion. 

“This cannot be real.”

Emma caught up, growing quiet as she read the closing statement. It felt like a warning. “The way to treat the affliction is to confess your feelings to the object of your affections?” her breathing shuddered. “That's so- that’s…”

“Ridiculous. Foolhardy. Whoever wrote this is an imbecilic simpleton,” Chevalier dismissed it outright with ease. He pulled away to start looking through other available books, cracking their pages open and snapping them shut when they displeased him. 

“We did come here expecting a fairytale,” a soft voice drifted to his ears. Casting his severe gaze over to the woman, he arched a patronising brow. “You believe a disease that causes thorns and roses to flower inside chests can be cured with mere words? You’re even more of a fool than first assumed, Belle.”

“What have you got to lose by trying?”

Chevalier stilled, realising they were not talking in hypotheticals anymore. Emma was looking at him. Steady, unwavering. “How long have you been suffering from this disease, Chevalier?”

He shouldn’t have been surprised. Belle had been selected for a reason: a pure heart and discerning gaze. Of course, she’d figured it out. 

He saw no need to evade the truth. “A month.”

Emma sucked in a sharp breath. She stood, waiting and watching him carefully, as if he suddenly looked very fragile to her. 

“How is this even possible…” she whispered. 

He didn’t answer, since neither of them knew and it would be foolish to even guess. Fairy tales shouldn’t have been possible, but the blood and pain were very much real.

“Y-you should go confess to the person you hold dear. Follow what the book said.”

Her voice faltered. He wondered why. 

“There’s no one like that for me,” Chevalier dismissed. “I live an isolated existence by design.”

The light dimmed within her pretty eyes, as if she understood now. He would choose efficiency over feelings every time. It was what he knew. All that was correct for him, as someone who courted war over romance.

He supposed he had nothing left to lose but his pride. Theoretically, he could confess. He could…if he knew the words to say. How did one even begin to utter a foreign language? You’d have more success teaching a beast to speak. 

And even if he did allow himself to open that pandora’s box, Chevalier felt no small degree of concern about what it may do to him. To them. The instincts he leashed so tight- only allowing them to break free to fight, weren't always blood-thirsty. Around Emma, he felt other…less than princely urges. The kind that involved teeth on flesh. What he wanted and what was right for her- were two different things.

“Unlike the Brutal Beast, however, as Belle you’ve gained multiple admirers in and outside of the palace,” he massaged his screaming throat. “I’m sure- you’re not wanting in options for suitors. They are likely waiting for you at the festival right now. You should be on your way. I will return to the palace.”

It sounded like an excuse even to his own ears. Chevalier’s lips peeled back from his teeth, loathing the cowardly move. This was not him. 

Her shoulders set and suddenly it proved difficult to hold her gaze. “I don’t want any of them,” she said softly but firmly.

He scoffed, smothering a hiss and turning his back on her. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead, heart palpitating, and he felt his temperature spike. “You’re remarkably more cutting than assumed. Then again- you're the same woman who inspired Sariel to choose you as Belle due to your vicious and well-deserved slapping skills," he drawled with a smirk, a heaviness settling in his chest. "Whoever it is you want, you can obtain. That is the truth of it.”

Who could deny you? There's not another woman around with such a discerning gaze and strong heart.

Chevalier’s smirk softened into a smile, before something lurched in his chest. Alarm shot through his entire system like a stab of adrenaline. It was too hard to breathe. His legs were suddenly carrying him out of the room.

“Prince Chevalier?”

“Stay there-!” he ordered, clamping a hand over his mouth. He was blind to everything. Sunlight hit him, so it could be assumed he’d made it outside. Chevalier wasn’t sure where he was going. It was too hot. Everything was bright and blinding- a ringing in his ears. He just knew he needed to get away, conceal himself and lick his wounds until the pain subsided. He’d be fine, he wasn’t going to let this infernal thing conquer him. Flowers would not burst from his chest like a macabre bouquet. 

His legs failed him. Blue eyes widened as Chevalier collapsed to his knees, managing to keep himself from toppling over by steadying weak arms upon the rim of a large water fountain. He was fortunate the town square was deserted- not a soul in sight as everyone had moved on to celebrate in Primrose Field just outside of the castle. Alone, Chevalier was free to retch and heave. He could no longer keep it in. He coughed harshly, tears forcing his eyes shut. He was blind to the contents that poured from his mouth but the petals, brittle leaves and full flowers could be felt as they passed over his tongue- inflaming his throat. Petals engulfed his mouth, and he coughed until he felt- for a moment- that this was it. Maybe he’d die, and in such a ridiculous way too, suffocating on flowers. Over the roaring of his ears, however- a sound just barely reached him. 

Red-rimmed blue eyes forced themselves open. Chevalier panted, trying in vain to catch his breath as he slowly raised his head. The sight of blood mingling within fountain water did not alarm him. Rather, his confusion came from a second, accompanying flood of blood flowing from the opposite direction.

Chevalier squinted tiredly, swaying vision slowly starting to focus.

Brunette hair trailed down, obscuring her face as the ends trailed within red waters- but he knew who she was even without the confirmation. He knew those shoulders as they trembled- those delicate page-turner fingers that grasped the marble rim of the fountain in a death grip, knuckles bleeding white. 

Emma coughed and heaved, the sound painful to his own ears. Harsh, rasping. Did his own coughs sound so strained?

As she struggled and choked on air, slowly gathering herself- Chevalier watched as the woman he loved raised her own head, cupping her bloody mouth in vain and stiffening at the sight of him. 

His expression likely mirrored hers.

Within the fountain, swirling on its crimson waters- red and blue roses mingled together. 

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

The distant roar of applause and merrymaking from the fields passed over Chevalier like a fading dream. He barely heard it, feeling as if he’d taken leave of his senses. Sweat dotted his brow, thankful the streets were empty. 

“P-prince Chevalier!”

Belle was calling him, trying to keep up with his long strides- her wrist enclosed in his iron grip. Chevalier didn't stop, tugging her with him into the shadows of an alley. What his intentions were, he didn't know. He was suddenly pressing her against the wall, gloved fingers ghosting Belle's red, parted lips. Blood stained the corner of her mouth. He could smell the copper on her breath.

"How?-" he rasped. "When did the symptoms start?"

"A-a few days ago. I've been masking it with an old throat-soother recipe. It uses crushed herbs and- oh that doesn't matter! I never wanted to actually believe you were-” tears welled up in her eyes, her fingers ghosting near his mouth without touching. He tasted the metallic tang of blood, and wondered if his lips were stained with it too. “You’ve been suffering from this much longer than I have,” she whispered. 

“Needlessly,” he gritted out, grasping her frozen hand and lowering it. Now that he was looking at her, really looking- Chevalier allowed himself to notice everything he’d been purposefully overlooking. The red in her cheeks, the way her attention latched onto him so strongly. “Enough of this. Confess, Simpleton,” he bit out. She would not suffer a moment longer than necessary. 

Emma trembled in his grip, those tears overflowing to run down her face. There was no sense of hope in her expression, nothing that expected her desires to be returned. A resignation settled over her, and there was no happiness to be found in her tone. Nonetheless, she spoke.

“I want…you.” 

Those earnest words stopped him in his tracks. 

“I want you, Prince Chevalier. You’re my-” she swallowed, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. His chest constricted at the sight. “You’re the object of my affections that book describes. I never intended to tell you but- if it’ll help…I’m telling you now, despite knowing y-you,” Emma sucked in a shaky breath, setting her shoulders with a determined look that stirred his shaken heart. “You won’t feel the same way about me. I understand and make peace with it. I only want your happiness, that’s all.” A forced smile bent her lips up unnaturally, making her look paper-thin and sickly. Chevalier grew cold at the sight. It hurt to look upon, when her genuine smiles were so radiant and open.

“I hope this doesn't a-affect our professional relationship too badly," she drew down into a low, awkward curtsey, head hung in apology.

He hated it. Loathed the sight.

His hand rose, wiping her tears away roughly. Emma blinked at him as his thumb lingered. Chevalier drew close, an unintentional bite in his words. 

“It is ruined," he uttered, witnessing the dismay widening her brown eyes. “Completely destroyed. I won’t be able to look at you the same way again. Try as you might, we cannot go back to what we just were moments ago.”

“I-I’m sor-” 

“I never said I wanted an apology," he cut her off, lips thinning. His heart was thundering madly. There was no point in holding back now. If everything was ruined, he could say it. Just as she had said it, with no hope of her feelings ever leading to anything- Chevalier thought to speak.

But the words would not come. 

He’d never felt so uncertain in all his life. Chevalier opened and closed his mouth, considering. “I am…not good with… words in this area. Yet I suppose they are required,” he frowned, studying her expression as it froze. He’d read countless romance books, just like she had, but he wasn’t a wordsmith or white knight. Many thought him incapable of human emotion. 

But Emma wasn’t looking at him like that. Her gaze was searching, direct. She’d always looked him in the eye. Always speaking to the human side of himself she was certain existed. If there was anyone that could teach him something he lacked in this department, it was her…

“Show me how to speak as you did just now, Emma.” He uttered her name lowly, betraying a hint of hunger. 

“Just now? Y-you mean, how I confessed?”

He waited, watching how she wet her lips, chest rising and falling quickly. Red blossomed a shade darker on her wet cheeks, as she asked with hopeful inquiry: “D-do you want me?”

“Yes.”

She let out a whoosh of air, chest deflating. Yet all at once, something radiant and shining entered her wet eyes. It almost hurt to look upon her, and a lesser man might’ve baulked at the sheer amount of emotion she displayed in that simple moment. Because that look…that look promised forever. “Then, try saying that-” she murmured gently. “Try rewording it.”

“Yes, I want you.”

Emma tilted her head back, face growing redder. “Do you want to be with me, Prince Chevalier?”

He shouldn’t say it. It wouldn’t make her happy in the long run. 

“Yes,” he said in his usual stoic tone, the frozen lake of his blue eyes thawing just a little, as his tongue became acquainted with words he’d only ever read in the fanciful romance novels of his private library. His sanctuary- that he’d only willingly shared with her. “I want to be with you,” he said clearly, with certainty. He’d never wanted anything quite so much. Everything else he’d ever requested or asked for served a purpose: a way to benefit the country. This- this was indulgence at its peak. The words came easier, and he felt they weren't so difficult to say after all. Their noses brushed. He could count each of her individual eyelashes if he wanted.

I love you.

“I want you. I want you to-” 

Sudden pressure could be felt against his mouth, a firm press of lips. Chevalier sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. After a stunned, still moment, he thought to respond- just as Emma pulled away. Before she could utter one word, her eyes lowered and full of shame, he chased her lips with his own. 

“Mnph!” she squeaked, and he swallowed the noise, holding the back of her neck with one hand while the other closed around her waist. Their bodies aligned perfectly. Pressing together and sharing warmth. He caged her tighter against the alley wall. Her scent hit him again- and his mind helpfully pulled up a catalogue of everything he picked up. Sweetly fragrant and vanilla-like, with a fruity almond-like aroma- likely the products she’d washed her hair in that morning. Deeper still were traces of a pleasant aromatic smell due to compounds emitted from papers made from ground wood. Books. Old, new books. They were practically baked into her. 

Emma returned his short, fierce kisses, before something soft and wet brushed his mouth. Her tongue. 

Oh. 

Chevalier opened his mouth, practically purring as she allowed him to explore her first. He could feel her eagerness- the bite of her nails on his scalp. The grip on his shoulder, her hips, leg hitching to curl around his waist, her breasts pushed flush against his chest, all of it was too much yet not enough. A rush of arousal and gladness raced down his spine. He’d never anticipated the thrill. Knowing that someone desired him so desperately. Loved…him. Fuck- she loved him? Loved…him?

“You foolish- girl-” he panted, claiming her mouth again before pulling away to attack her neck with sweet nips and bites. She even tasted sweet. It made him want to bite deeper. Fill himself up with her.

Emma yelped and trembled in his hold, her hips rocking and dragging a little more in that maddening way of hers. 

Chevalier found himself panting already. His hands became greedy, mapping out the plains of her body, finding all the places where she was lean or soft. He cupped her breast and she moaned exquisitely, soon yanking at the secures of his coat. 

“More, please. Please- I want to feel you.”

His mind surfaced to whisper logic to him. He let out a heavy breath that was intended as a sigh, nipping her ear. “Did you forget where we are right now?”

Emma fell still, before a quiet ‘o-oh’ tickled his hearing. She glanced over his shoulder at the quiet town square. 

He pressed smiling lips against her head. “Simpleton.”

“W-we can…” she trailed off, before pulling back to look him in the eye once more. “We can go to my old place, if you- if you’d like.”

Chevalier stilled. This side of her was wholly unexpected. A new development. There was a feverish edge to her gaze. 

For the first time, Chevalier felt himself become the object of someone’s lust. 

Coming from her, he couldn’t say he minded. 

He yanked, picking the woman up and striding away, throwing her over his shoulder for good measure. 

“aCH! C-Chevalier!”

“Don’t squirm if you do not wish to be dropped.”

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

They reached her old home both too soon and not quick enough, a little apartment on the top floor of a converted bed and breakfast. Chevalier was aware of his heart thundering as he followed Emma upstairs, into her sitting room. Books were piled high onto shelves, as expected. 

Emma lingered by the door. He could tell, judging by the way her hands twitched and shook, that she was experiencing some uncertainty suddenly. The fire was doused a little, now that they’d broken apart. 

The full force of everything weighed into the empty silence. Chevalier could feel it. His airways were clear. He could breathe again, as though the curse- or whatever it had been, had never tormented his lungs. 

Now everything keeping them apart filtered in.

She bit her lip and forced a smile. “Would- would you like some tea?” she tried.

Wow, she was almost as bad at this as he was.

“Come here,” he held a hand out to her.

Emma obliged immediately, crossing the room to accept his grip and allowing herself to be pulled in. He placed one palm over her chest, the other at her back. “You can breathe clearly now?”

He checked her breathing all the same as she spoke, monitoring her for any sense of pain or discomfort. There was none. 

“I’m fine. It’s strange…” she gave him a worried look. “I felt better the second I confessed. It’s the same for you, isn’t it?”

He inclined his head, fingers dragging up her spine to stroke the nape of her neck. His heart felt as though it had stopped that awful moment- the second he’d seen her bent over the fountain.

Emma’s hands were tangling in his hair again, guiding his lips down to hers. It was as if she sensed the direction of his thoughts, kissing the fear away. “Don’t think about it,” she murmured, shuddering. “I-I don’t want to let myself think about it. Help me forget, please. I keep seeing your face- you…you looked like…you were about to die.”

Chevalier gathered her closer, and all at once, that fire coaxed to life again. He kissed and kissed her, marvelling at all the different ways one could. A closed mouth on the lips, a brush of teeth, or tongue slipping inside- a heady press of teeth and heat closing around his neck as Emma sucked. He jerked suddenly, coming back to himself.

She’d left a love bite on him. His skin throbbed where her mouth had been a moment ago.

And judging by his physical reaction, he liked it.

Emma blinked and licked her lips. His cock twitched. 

He felt as though he had to say something now, lest they do something she regretted.

“...You realise why I did not say anything, Emma. Entering the world of royalty would likely steal your happiness.”

He didn’t want that for her. He never wanted Emma to lose her smile.

“I know, I understand. It’s not a decision to be made half-heartedly,” she murmured, kissing his cheek and collarbone. “Loving you is one thing, being with you is something else, isn’t it? It’s unrealistic. But-” Emma pulled back to meet his gaze, cupping his face in her hands. He stiffened. That simple touch made him feel…cherished. She was looking at him with a teary smile again. How many more times would he make her cry? “I still want you, Prince Chevalier. I want to be by your side. If you’d let me- I’d double, no- triple my lessons with Sariel to understand everything needed. I’d polish my etiquette, learn every facet of politics possible. I know it wouldn't be easy…” her hand strayed down, coming to rest over his heart. “But nothing worth having ever is. Please, please let me try. Don’t give up before we’ve even begun.”

Chevalier stopped and stared. His chest constricted for entirely different reasons than Hanahaki Disease. 

“You would go that far…for the Brutal Beast of Rhodolite?”

“No,” Emma shook her head. “I’d go that far for you.”

He could deny her no longer. Not when she gazed at him with such command. He believed her, right then. He believed a commoner could survive the viper's nest of the palace if they could measure up to Emma.

He captured her mouth with his own, grasping her tight around the waist. 

“Simpleton,” he said between kisses, running his hands over her body. “You speak as if I could stop you.”

She finally relaxed in his hold, and it felt like coming home when she wrapped both arms around his neck and held him close. A shuddering breath escaped them, and for a moment they just stood, revelling in the closeness. But then the kisses and exploration began in earnest once more, even more insistent than before.

She was no doubt aware of the hardness prodding between her legs. He made no attempt to hide it, if anything, pressing himself more firmly against her. She needed to know, had to be aware of how much he wanted to feast on her.

“This is your last chance. If you want out, say so now,” he breathed in her ear. “Otherwise, I will not stop this hunt for anyone.”

Emma just blinked slowly and smiled. His heart stuttered at the sight. 

A gentle touch brushed his cheek again, and Chevalier stiffened out of habit, feeling the drag of her thumb. It felt so soothing. Accepting. He stared, committing the moment to memory. That of Emma, looking at him with such honest acceptance- her hair a halo of gold as sunset blessed the strands with a warm gleam. That touch…

He’d never known a touch could be so gentle.

She claimed his lips in another firm kiss. “I won’t run. I’m here to stay. If you want me- I’m yours, Prince Chevalier. No one else's,” she murmured, and he felt that she meant it. His lashes lowered, and he drooped, allowing himself to sink slightly into the cradling warmth of her hand. It felt so good. After weeks of pain, his throat finally- finally felt fully soothed. 

Chevalier then grabbed her under her thigh, first perching it on his waist- before thinking better of it and dragging her leg out- wrapping it more firmly around his waist. Emma gasped and shuddered, their hips locked together. 

She seemed to simultaneously think the same thing he did.

There were too many layers in the way.

Chevalier ripped at the leather belt around his waist, tugging it off, while Emma busied herself with opening his coat and yanking it free from his shoulders.

His belt clinked and rang out with distress the second it hit the floor by their feet, followed swiftly by his coat and sword. His stomach jumped as inquisitive fingers met the bared skin of his navel where his shirt had ridden up. Her touch stroked downwards, disappearing under the waistband of his trousers. Emma's chest rose and fell quickly, their gazes locking. She took him into her hand, wrapping sweet pretty fingers around his shaft and stroking of her own volition. Chevalier's breath halted, hips stuttering- quickly bracing an arm above her on the bookshelf behind her. He needed to focus, lest he lose control early. 

"Emma-" he hissed, swallowing thickly. It felt all types of divine yet foreign. No one had ever touched him in this way before. No one would wish to even be near him, let alone meet his gaze as she did. Emma was relentless with her mouth, kissing a heated trail over his throat. 

Fuck, he needed to act- otherwise he ran the risk of getting overwhelmed. Somehow though…the feeling of giving himself over to her felt freeing. Liberating. Deliciously attractive in its newness.

He sucked in a hard breath as her nip was punctuated with a single finger travelling along a vein down his shaft.

"You're bold, for prey…" he forced himself to smirk, keeping one hand buried tight in her hair. Their hot, quickened breaths filled the room.

Emma shot him a look that made his toes curl. She then blushed, as if surfacing briefly from the hunger. "I guess I've wanted this for a while."

The admission made heat shoot down to his groin. His cock twitched and hardened further in her grip, nudging her palm.

Sensing her sudden loss in confidence, Chevalier tugged on brunette strands. He guided her mouth back to his. "Continue," he murmured between kisses, punctuating them with caresses of teeth and tongue. She tasted like the bitter tang of coppery blood. He knew his mouth likely wasn't much better.

Emma gave a smile, relaxing, kissing him back and continuing her slowly, agonisingly curious strokes. Cool air assaulted his skin as she nudged his trousers down enough to free his length, stroking with bolder movements. 

In an unprecedented move, she disappeared from under him- lowering herself to her knees.

"Emma-" he quickly said, catching her by the chin. "You needn’t force yourself-"

"I want to," she said clearly. Soft brown eyes gazed up at him with only affection and curiosity. She massaged his thighs. "It's alright. Please let me, Prince Chevalier. I just…I want to feel you everywhere."

Blunt teeth gnashed together. Chevalier's only outward reaction was a brief flicker of his eyes. Releasing a sharp exhale through his nose, he stroked the line of her jaw. "Tap my thighs if it's too much, foolish Rabbit."

Perhaps she really did live up to her nickname, because the moment he gathered her hair in one hand to grip it tight atop her crown- Emma’s sexual appetite returned with a vengeance. She took the head into her mouth immediately, with an enthusiasm that left him hissing. Chevalier braced himself harder against the shelf, wood groaning beneath his iron grip.

She felt like molten heat, her tongue cushioning- until it pried in that damnably inquisitive way of hers. 

Chevalier gasped quietly and shuddered, tightening his grip in her hair.

"Suck," he rasped, trying to regain some semblance of control.

Emma did more than that. Her cheeks hollowed as she obeyed, but her head bobbed, taking more of him.

His legs shook. Light flashed before his eyes. A tight, shuddering groan was coming from somewhere- and he realised it was his own traitorous voice singing its pleasure. With his throat free from flowers, he could hiss and snarl unencumbered.

Her hand- Gods her hand- it came up to pump his base, wrapping the softness of her palm around what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. 

He felt as though his teeth would crack from how hard he was clenching his jaw. He could only endure it a moment longer- before he was yanking Emma back to her feet and spinning her around, pushing her hard against the shelves. He yanked her skirt down so hard the material gave a thin shriek as it tore. 

“Perhaps-” he panted hotly against her ear, “I should call you a vixen or minx. I wouldn’t have lasted much longer if you’d had your way just now.”

“I wouldn’t have minded if you’d let go,” she trailed off, blushing.

“I mind,” he clicked his tongue, tearing off his glove with his teeth before bringing long fingers between her legs. His digits were instantly soaked with warmth. It felt like a deep, unending amount of wetness. Her arousal coated his knuckles instantly. His cock twitched, more of that elated fierceness growing in his chest. 

“So wet for me,” he muttered, almost to himself. 

He then gripped her hips hard, “it wouldn’t do to keep you wanting. Relax yourself for me.”

Emma shuddered, bringing her arms up to steady herself against the shelves. When the head of his cock slowly pushed into that warm heat, just enough for the head to settle in- she quickly glanced over her shoulder. “I-I’ve never done this before.”

Chevalier looked back at her, and realised his folly. He wouldn’t be able to see her expression if he took her as a beast would. 

“Neither have I,” he confessed quietly, noticing a table within the middle of the room that faced a hefty-sized mirror. His lips twitched, pulling out of her once more and delighting in her whine of loss. Chevalier tugged her back, lifting her swiftly into his arms- only to splay her over that wooden surface. Her red- endearingly surprised face in the reflection of the glass was much more preferable. “I will take it as slow as I am able, but know not to expect softness from me.”

He stroked the line of her nape down to her shoulders and spine with an awkward, reverent caress. She didn’t seem to mind it, nodding with an eagerness that sent his heart racing. Their eyes locked in the mirror.

You will be the death of me.

He grasped the back of her blouse and ripped. Emma yelped as he tore at the laces of her corset, cracking it open to flay it off her- and suddenly the exquisite expanse of her back lay open for him to claim. Unmarked and smooth.

Chevalier grasped her ass and delighted in her squeal, smirking as he tilted her hips up and pushed inside her sex, sheathing himself inside tight- clenching warmth. His chest expanded with the force of his gasp- locking it behind clenched teeth. He felt her shudder and bow beneath him.

Fuck.

He’d read about it, of course, studied anatomy and biology, but nothing compared to actually locking inside her- seeing that moment they both felt it. That sense of completeness. His fingers slid between the gaps between her own, curling until they were clasped. When Emma- panting and strained as much as he- turned her head to meet his gaze and gave a reassuring squeeze- Chevalier shuddered. A moment later, their mouths were brushing, his lips travelling behind her ear, panting softly into her hair. He didn’t know how to be what she needed.

“It’s alright,” she said softly, squeezing his hand again. “I’m alright now- I think. Just…please go slow a-at first.”

“I doubt I’m capable of the gentleness you desire, but I will try.”

Emma smiled in the mirror, her thumb running over his knuckles. “You underestimate yourself,” she bit her lip, rocking her hips back a little. Chevalier hissed as he sank deeper, groaning lowly. 

They started slow. 

Again, they knew what to do in theory, but if anything their first few attempts at moving together was quite terrible. He would buck too hard or shallow, and Emma was wiggling too much, trying to encourage him but instead making the pace awkward. His hands clamped down on her hips, forcing her still. Chevalier gained his bearings, slowly starting to thrust and set the pace. Due to his size, he was conscious of hurting her. His nails had already left angry red lines on her waist. Remembering something very, very important that he was ashamed to have overlooked in their eagerness- Chevalier reached around her to touch and stroke the pearl between her legs. 

The reaction was instantaneous. Emma came alive in his hands. 

“A-ahh!” she mewled, arching her back and hissing. “Don’t stop- nghh…”

Was she biting her fist?

Chevalier smirked, angling her hip to tilt her body a little more to the side, before suddenly thrusting too hard. He froze- but she moaned again. Encouraged, he kept going, and when that only made her squirm and try to take more of him, he gradually sank in deeper, thrusting harder, to the point that he was jolting his hips in quick rough movements and he could no longer recognise himself. 

Emma’s noises were loud and carrying, gripping the table as it squeaked in distressed against the floor. 

It was bright- still light out. In all the books he’d read, the lovers usually had sex at night. But why? Why would anyone want to miss out on the sight of Emma bathed in sunlight? Her bare flesh and parted, rosy lips and wanting eyes staring at him in the mirror. The sight of her cunt wrapped around his cock as she accepted his thrusts over and over. His kisses were awkward and sloppy against her hunched shoulders. He sank his teeth into her flesh and smothered his groans into it. Everything was all so imperfect and messy that it was perfect.

When her hips suddenly rocked back to meet his- Chevalier sank inside her to the hilt. Their gasps mingled, and she took all of him- just as her walls quivered with release. The sensation was so startling that he let go inside of her with a snarl.

His mind blanked out briefly, drowning in euphoria. 

“I love you- I love you,” she was panting nonsensically, the mutterings anchoring him, guiding him back.. 

He couldn’t claim to be much better. In the high of the little death, Chevalier pressed his lips to her hair again and again. “I’m going to keep you,” he breathed, letting his lashes drift shut. His flesh was burning, more alive than he’d ever felt it, but it wasn’t the physical exertion that made him tremble. I’m going to keep you, for all time. Nothing will take you from me now. 

When his eyes slid open once more, Emma was gazing at him with such tenderness in the mirror. She seemed to understand what he couldn’t put into words yet. “You better,” she smiled gently, twisting so that she faced him properly to bring him down for another kiss. He’d never tire of them. 

They stayed that way for some time, splayed together, locked in each other's arms and assuring one another they were both alive, their bodies and hearts finally, finally in sync as the festival of Beltane slowly drew to a close.

End

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri chevalier #ikepri fanfic #otome games #ikemen series

[women-are-hot]

Love Me Like You Do (Ona Batlle)

Summary: ona and y/n feeling like ivana and the others are hiding something from them and the next day, they found out what.

Warnings: fluff, fluff & fluff.

Ivana’s Pov:

So today Y/n, Ona, Jackie, Vilde, Millie and I are going to have lunch together.

I know it's going to be so fun to be with all my favorite girls, even if Ona and Y/n are in a relationship, they always have time for us.

Now, when we’re talking about Ona and Y/n, they’re always together, but they’re not posting that much of each other on social media.

When they are, it's so cute and the fans just want more.

So today I’m going to film a tik tok video of cute moments they will be doing together.

It will give me likes, so why not…

—

Y/n's pov:

I woke up cuddling with my girlfriend, Ona Batlle. 

Yeah, I know I’m a lucky girl…

Today we’re going to eat lunch with our friends and it's going to be very nice.

Ona and I have to pick Ivana and Jackie up, then we will be meeting up with Millie and Vilde in Manchester.

I got out of my thoughts when Ona nuzzled into my neck and kissed my jaw softly.

"Morning" I said.

"Morning, princess," Ona mumbled.

"Ready for the day?" I asked her.

Ona nodded and began to kiss my neck.

"Ona" I whispered.

"You're so beautiful" she whispered back as she still kissed me down my neck.

"Ona, we have to get out of bed," I said.

"Right," Ona said and stopped to kiss me.

As soon as Ona was out of the room, she lifted me up from the bed and wrapped my legs around her waist. She pushed me against the wall and began to kiss me again.

"Ona, I said we had to get ready," I said, biting my bottom lip.

Then Ona stopped kissing me and looked me right in the eyes.

"No. You said that we had to get out of the bed and now we’re out of the bed" she said and once again kissed me.

I let her kiss me for 2 minutes more and then pushed her off me.

"Okay. You got 2 minutes. Now, we have to get ready” I said

Ona's eyes just softed and then she hugged me.

“It was nice while it lasted," she replied and kissed me on the head.

—

Ivana’s Pov:

Jackie and I stood waiting for Ona and Y/n to come and pick us up.

I told Jackie about my idea of making a tik tok with cute moments of Ona and Y/n.

"That's the best idea ever" she said and high fived me.

Then we heard a car and we saw Ona and Y/n was here.

Jackie and I got inside the car and the cute moments were already starting, cause Ona and Y/n were holding hands together in Ona's lap. Aww how cute!

"Hey guys, how are you?" Y/n said as she gave us a smile.

"We're great, thanks. What about you two?”" Jackie responded and then they began a conversion.

As the two of them began talking, I took my phone up from my pocket and tried to film the cute moment between Ona and Y/n.

Ona then suddenly took her hands out of Y/n's hand as she had to change gear.

Dude, I was filming- Oh wait now Ona took Y/n's hand again.

Okay bro, this looked like something that would happen in a movie.

"Are you filming us, Ivana?" Y/n asked me.

I took my phone away quickly.

"No, I was just taking a selfie" I answered.

"Oh okay, can I see it?" Y/n asked.

PLEASE STOP ASKING QUESTIONS Y/N.

"The light was bad, so I deleted it," I explained.

Damm, I'm good at lying.

"Okay. I can take a picture of you for instagram later, if you want me to?!" Y/n said.

This girl is too sweet!

"Thanks Y/n, you're too kind,” I replied.

—

We were now walking down the street and Ona & Y/n were holding hands. They’re literally the cutest couple I’ve ever seen.

"Film it, Idiot" Jackie whispered to me as the other two girls were walking in front of us.

"Calm down, woman" I responded as I began to film Ona & Y/n holding hands.

"They are so cute," I whispered to myself.

"Who is cute?" Ona asked as she turned around, still holding her girlfriend's hand.

Oh shit, oh shit. Come on Ivana think of something to say.

"Uhm, Jackie and I were just talking about dogs and how cute Maria's dogs were," I explained with a nervous smile that I hoped they wouldn’t pick up on.

"Yeah. Her dog is so cute," Jackie added, trying to help me.

"Maria's dog is really cute and fluffy," Y/n said with a big smile.

"Oh look, there is Vilde & Millie. Lovely" I said and changed the conversation.

Ona and Y/n looked at each other confused, but then went into the restaurant.

"That was close," Jackie whispered to me.

"Too close," I whispered back.

—

Y/n's Pov:

It feels like Ivana and Jackie are hiding something for Ona and I?

I'm pretty sure that Ivana was filming us in the car and then they suddenly began talking about dogs?

Whatever, it's probably just me.

I was texting with my family in our group chat and they wanted a picture of what I was doing right now.

"Ona, my family wants a picture of what we're doing," I said.

"Let's take a selfie of us then" Ona replied.

—

Ivana’s Pov:

The power couple were now taking a selfie for Y/n's family and like of course I had to film it.

"Jackie, we have to pretend we're filming ourselves," I said.

"Okay" Jackie responded simply.

We talked to the camera like we were doing a youtube video. I don't know why, but I don't think Ona and Y/n found out that we filmed them.

So our plan is going great…

"We should be agents," Jackie whispered in my ear.

"You're very right about that, Groenen" I whispered back.

—

Y/n's Pov:

"Ona?" I said as Ona's head was on my shoulder.

"Yeah?" she responded as she kissed my cheek and took her head off my shoulder.

"I think Ivana is filming us," I said.

"I think they're filming us too, but It doesn't matter right?" Ona asked.

"No, but don't you think It's weird?" I answered.

"Ivana likes to film what she is doing all the time. I don't think she is really thinking about it" she said.

"You're probably right," I mumbled.

"Y/n?" Ona said.

"Yes?" I replied.

"Te amo" (I love you) she said and kissed my hand.

I smiled softly at her.

"I love you too" I replied as I softly kissed her.

—

After a nice lunch with the girls, Ona and I had invited them to come over and watch a movie later tonight.

While we waited for them to come, we cleaned our apartment, because It was quite messy.

"Don't you think we're done now?" Ona asked as we sat down on the couch.

"Absolutely" I answered and laid my head onto her chest while she ran her fingers through my hair.

"Then we're now waiting for the other girls," Ona said into my hair.

—

Ivana’s Pov:

Ona and Y/n had invited the girls and I to come over and watch a movie.

Which is perfect, so I can film more of them.

Jackie drove us there over now.

I'm ready to be famous, because of my friends.

—

Y/n's Pov:

The girls were here right now.

I was in the kitchen making snacks for us.

While I was making popcorn, I was suddenly lifted up from behind and I quickly knew who It was.

"Ona set me down!" I said seriously.

Ona then sat me down, but turned me around, so I was in her arms.

"You're so serious. Have a little fun" she said with her adorable smile.

"I just don't want the popcorn to burn" I replied as I tried to get out of her arms.

"You're going nowhere," Ona said and began to tickle me.

"ONA STOP" I yelled as I began laughing too.

"Then stop being so serious, mi amor" she said.

"Okay, I'll stop being so serious," I responded.

"Great! Now make sure that the popcorn doesn't burn" Ona said and left the kitchen.

"IT'S YOUR FAULT IF THEY'RE BURNT"

—

Ivana’s Pov:

"Did you get that?" Jackie asked.

"Jackie, I'm don't dumb. Of course I got it" I answered.

"Got what?" Vilde asked.

"We're filming Ona and Y/n" I said.

"Why are you filming them?" Millie asked.

Ugh, so many questions!

"Because I want likes on tiktok and if I post about them, I will get millions of likes" I answered.

Millie and Vilde looked at me as if I was crazy or something like that.

"That's such a good idea" Millie mumbled.

"Oh I know, Turner," I replied.

"Okay guys. Which movie do you want to see?" Y/n said as she walked into the room.

"HARRY POTTER"

"PRETTY WOMEN"

"KARATE KID"

"JAMES BOND"

We all yelled.

"Dirty Dancing is it then" Y/n said and sat the movie on.

Ona then walked into the room and sat down on the couch beside Y/n.

"Who chose the movie?" Ona asked.

"The girls all wanted to see it" Y/n quickly answered.

"Good choice" Ona said and sat comfortably on the couch with Y/n in her arms.

The movie was starting, but Jackie being an annoying ass had to say something.

"FILM IT" she whispered to me.

"Shut up. I know what I'm doing" I whispered back.

—

Y/n's Pov:

The movie was now done and the girls had gone home.

"I'm so tired," I said as I brushed my teeth.

"Me too, amor. We're going to have a nice long sleep and then we have training tomorrow" Ona replied.

"SLEEP NOW" I yelled and literally jumped into bed.

—

Ivana’s Pov:

"Jackie, do you want to see how fast I can get 1 million likes?" I asked Jackie.

"Omg yes! Let me put on a timer" Jackie answered.

"I'm posting It in 3, 2, 1. BOOM"

Let the likes fall on me now!

—

Y/n's Pov:

This morning my phone went off with notifications.

At some point I had enough of my stupid phone, so I got out of Ona's arms and opened my phone.

"If you're this popular tomorrow too, please shut your phone up" Ona mumbled.

I ignored her as I opened my phone and saw a video on Instagram that Ona and I had been tagged in at least too many times.

The video had small clips of Ona I yesterday.

After I had seen the full video and I knew quickly who had filmed it.

"Oh my fucking god" I whispered to myself.

"What is it?" Ona asked as she sat up too.

I then showed her the video.

Ona just sighed.

"I knew something was up with them," I said.

"I know you don't like getting a lot of attention, but to be honest, we’re kinda cute," Ona replied.

"We are" I said and laid down in her arms again.

Ona didn't say anything. I didn't either.

"I will still have a talk with Ivana later!" I said.

"I know, amor. I'm not dumb" Ona responded.

"To be honest, you're actually pretty dumb" I said.

"Y/N, YOU'RE A LITTLE DEVIL”

—

#woso imagines #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #gxg #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagines #espwnt imagine #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle imagines

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Man’s Best Friend with Benefits: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

!! Warnings: stillborn, baby in dies in womb, trauma associated with that, explicit (minor) talk of baby dying, heartbreak, really heavy angst, canon angst and violence !!

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

He heads back to the police station to further question Ed since he seemed very suspicious last time. At the end of the hallway Garth is in is a door, and when it opens, both Ed and Josh exit out of it. Josh is holding a thick file in his left hand, and Garth can't help but think it's for the case he's trying to get information on.

"Gentlemen," Garth greets them.

"Still investigating this shitty little case? I'm awed the Bureau has so much time on its hands," Ed comments.

"Right, well, we have some individual discretion to pursue cases."

Garth glosses over the file in Josh's hands and sees James' name on it. That's the file he needs, but it looks like they won't give it up so easily.

"I'll catch up later, Ed," Josh says and walks away, taking the file with him.

"At some point, cases like this go cold, as I'm sure you're aware. Just not enough to keep them floating."

"No new leads, then?"

"No, and it's drifting towards the back burner, really. We just don't have the manpower."

"Then it must have been tough to lose a valuable resource like Lieutenant Frampton. See, he and I caught a case together a while back."

"Well, he's not lost to me. He's on leave," Ed stutters.

"I remember he said he was the youngest guy here to ever make lieutenant. Must have been something special."

"No, this place is run like a dogsled--no stars, just grunts. One mutt goes lame, another one pops up and slogs through the slush. Agent."

Ed leaves before Garth can ask him any more questions. Something is definitely wrong here, and Ed is hiding something. Ed and Josh walked into a room not far from where Garth is, and when he tries to open the door, it's locked. Maybe Sam will have better luck with Portia.

After Sam had calmed down, he and Portia drove to a large garage that seemed abandoned. They were secretly meeting with another one from her world about this since the people in the club were of no use to them.

"So, this warlock we're meeting with is a snitch?" Sam asks once he parks.

"Cops have snitches all over town. James uses Drexyl when he suspects someone in the community."

An orange gremlin with one brown stripe down each side drives through the open garage door and stops just feet from where Sam and Portia are parked. They both get out to greet Drexyl who calmly gets out and walks over to them.

"Drexyl, this is Sam."

"A wiccan from Detroit. I heard. So, here's the deal, there is absolutely no word on the street about any witch-hexing another one."

"Are you sure there's not any kind of spell?"

"Look, Detroit, I pride myself on reliable sourcing. There is, however, a lot of chatter about our James," Drexyl says.

"What kind of chatter?"

"That he's gone ripper. Someone's circulating the rumor that he's set at full kill."

"One of us?" Portia gasps.

"If the cops get wind of it, arrest James, and find out what he really is, that exposes the rest of us. You know that can't happen."

"What does that mean?" Sam wonders, getting a bit confused.

"They're gonna give James two choices: leave or get killed. Witches appreciate a grand gesture."

"I won't let him do that."

"Well, the community might do it for him."

Drexyl has no other information, so he leaves the two of them and backs away from the abandoned garage. Sam and Portia have no other option but to return back to James' house. Garth is waiting for them when they return since James is still chained to his bed.

"Hey, I've been going over Bobby's data. Portia might not be wrong. Turns out there is a spell for implanting images into another person's brain."

"Really?" Sam asks.

"Yeah."

"So, James could be convinced he killed those other people without ever touching them. Maybe it is somebody else," Sam says hopefully.

"Yeah, who's going to a hell of a lot of trouble to make it look like James. According to Ed Stoltz, they don;t have anything, but I know they got something. I saw the  tech guy who's working the case, and he had a huge file folder marked 'James Frampton'," Garth reveals.

"Ed didn't mention that before."

"No, he didn't."

Garth, Portia, and Sam walk into the back bedroom where James is lying there calmly.

"Portia tells me my friends in the community want me burned at the stake," he tries to joke.

"It's not looking good right now. The cops may have more on the case than they're saying, including a big file on you. I get the feeling whatever they have is under lock and key at the precinct in room C-110," Garth says.

"We need to break in."

"Yeah, of course. We'll just break into a police station into a locked office that is crawling with officers. Why didn't I think of that?" Sam says sarcastically.

"Sam, a witch can go to a place without having to go to a place. It's called astral projection. I can project my awareness anywhere from the comfort of right here. These have got to go," James says, motioning to his iron chains. "Irons on, no magic. No magic, no break-in."

"Okay, but only if we can go with you," Sam says.

James has no choice but to agree to them. Sam removes the shackles from his wrist, and he and Garth take a seat on either side of him. James grabs both Sam and Garth's hand while Portia stands in front of them.

"James, are you sure you're still even able to do this?" Portia asks worriedly.

"Just close your eyes," James says, ignoring Portia's question. "Whatever I see, I'll pass on to you, too."

James chants something in Latin, and suddenly, Sam and Garth are taken on an astral plane ride. It's like their souls are lifted from their bodies and being transported through the air all the way to the police station. It's as if they have a third-person view of themselves and the world around them.

They're brought to the police station and to the locked door that Garth saw Ed and Josh go into. Once inside, they see files on files about James. There are pictures and case files on the walls, and Ed is inside watching Phillppe sign a witness statement. Philippe is Spencer's familiar, one of the people that Sam and Portia talked to at the club.

Suddenly, the vision ends, and everyone is brought back into their own bodies. Sam and Garth take a second to get themselves situated, but James is pissed.

"Stoltz is building a case against me."

"What?!" Portia growls angrily.

"Ed has always wanted a breakthrough case. Nailing a renegade cop would qualify. In my first case, they dropped him as the lead detective, and they went with me."

"Do you think this is payback for that?"

"He can't just arrest you. He needs evidence. He needs proof," Portia panics.

"He's got it! He's got everything!" James yells.

"From who?"

"Phil, the cat," Sam pants.

"Philippe," Portia growls.

James gets so angry that his powers go haywire. Sam tries to calm him down, and he can't help but think that if you were here, you'd be able to help James in more ways than Sam or Garth could. You'd be able to use your powers to help James calm down, and help him catch whoever is doing this.

Instead, you're about to receive the worst news you might ever get in your life.

Dean finally managed to get to your room after calming down himself. Joanna is still with the social worker because he does not want her seeing you after you get the news you will never hold your son. You're just waking up from surgery and notice Dean closes the door right behind him.

"Hey, what happened?" you panic slightly.

"How are you feeling?"

Dean tried so hard to get the swelling around his eyes to go down since he was crying so much, but he doesn't think you notice because you're worried about other things right now.

"Tired, but okay. What happened?"

"You fell and hit your head on the side of the laundry machine. Sweetheart, you had a brain bleed. You were taken into surgery, but you're going to be just fine. Your magic healed you of the injury, and they expect you to go home in a few days."

As he is explaining, you're looking around the room in confusion. Your hand immediately goes to your stomach, and you gasp when you don't feel your children inside.

"Where's our kids? Joanna?"

"Joanna is with a social service worker. She is just fine. Maryann--"

"Please tell me our baby girl's okay," you whimper.

"She is in the NICU right now, and they're going to keep her here for two months. They want to monitor her progress, but the doctor says that she's very healthy for her age. She's going to be okay."

"And our son?" A fresh wave of tears comes for Dean, and the second you see the water in his eyes, you shake your head in denial. "No. Do not tell me anything but he's okay. Please, Dean, tell me our son is okay."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

His words flow out of his mouth, but you're not really hearing what he has to say. You're drowning in your own fears and heartache. After letting it sink in that you're never going to hold him and make memories with him, you tip your head back and just sob. Dean scoots closer to your bed and grabs your hand, leaning in to hold you close.

Dean will show you his foot and hand prints, the bracelet, and the lock of his hair once you've calmed down, but you realize you'll never be able to come back for this. You've provided him with a home for seven months, and now he's never going to see his new one with the rest of his family.

Sam must know by now, and you can't imagine what he is thinking.

Sam and Garth were no match for James once it sunk in that his coworkers and his friends betrayed him. Even Portia was no match for him and his powers. He basically shunned her away while Sam and Garth got the brutal end of his wrath. James needed to get the two men out of the way, and he'd be able to handle things his way.

As soon as Sam and Garth came to, they rushed over to the club since they had a feeling James was going to go there and confront Spencer. SAm sneaks in through the back and overhears James and Spencer's conversation. He peeks over the side and sees Philippe lying on one of the tables with Spencer behind him.

Spencer reaches down to Philippe and snaps his neck as if he meant nothing to him.

"He was always spineless. Now literally."

"It was you. You were behind all this?"

"I humbly accept credit."

"You made me think I was a killer. Ed Stoltz put you up to it. He found out you were a witch and tried to blackmail you," James accuses him.

"You're not using your thinking cap, Jimmy. It was actually crucial that he didn't believe in the occult. I'd say he's built quite a solid case, don't you?"

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. Neither of you ever considered my feelings," Spencer scoffs.

"Portia? This is about her?"

"Can you imagine the insult when she chose you? I wanted her as my soulmate the moment I saw her."

"She was meant to be my familiar."

"Oh, she's way more than familiar, isn't she? When she picked you as master, I endured it. When you two went all Bella and Edward, broke the code, and put your passions before the community rules, well, the entitlement was too much. Your total ruination seemed appropriate." Sam has had enough of this and knows he needs to step in. Him and Garth enter the room, making themselves known. "The wiccan from Detroit."

Before Sam has a chance to say anything, Spencer tosses both Garth and Sam into the wall behind them with his powers. James throws a bolt of magic at Spencer, and the older man chuckles.

"Seriously, you want to take me on?"

Spencer sends his own energy beam at James, causing him to stiffen up. Spencer raises James into the air, and he cries out in pain at what Spencer is doing to him. Sam and Garth get up, and Sam takes out the bottle they were going to use on James. Instead, they're going to use it on Spencer.

"Hurry," Garth urges.

While still holding James in the air, Spencer puts a hand up towards the two hunters and sends a beam into both Sam and Garth. They both freeze in place as their eyes turn the same color as Spencer's magic.

"It's not only James' head I can get inside."

Whatever Spencer is doing, it's causing Sam to relive all of the bad things that's ever happened to him. Him taking demon blood, fighting with his dad, falling into Hell with Michael and Lucifer, when his soul was burning in Hell, and every bad thing he's ever done while being soulless. Garth is experiencing his own pain as well, and neither of them can do anything but stand there and take it.

Portia, in her dog form, comes running into the room and jumps on Spencer, quickly trying to take him out. When Spencer hits the ground, his hold releases on everyone. James falls back onto the ground, and Sam and Garth are able to move again. Sam quickly takes out the bottle while Garth takes out his match. Portia and Spencer still continue to fight, but it gives Sam the time he needs to do the spell.

With a few words in Latin, he throws the concoction onto Spencer once he throws Portia off him. A swirl of smoke engulfs Spencer as he turns into blood and ash. Portia, now in her human form, rushes over to James who meets her in the middle. With Spencer out of the picture, James' life should go back to normal. There is still the issue with Ed and the case he is building against him, but James and Portia can handle that on their own.

Sam would really love to stay and help James with his problem, but his nephew just died and he really needs to get back to Kansas. It was a long and tiring drive, but Sam and Garth made it back just in time for you to have calmed down. You were given the chance to see Robert in the same way Dean did, and you two grieved together inside the tiny OR room. He will be cremated so you can take him home, but you have someone else to see right now.

"Hey, I got here as quickly as we could," Sam says.

"You're here now," you cry. "That's all that matters."

"I am so sorry."

Both Sam and Garth each give you a hug, but they're not the ones you want to see right now. With your doctor's permission, you have a nurse wheel you to the NICU so you can see your baby girl. She is inside one of the incubators to help her grow stronger, but you're allowed to stick your hand inside and touch her so she knows her mom is by her side.

"Hi, my angel," you whisper and stick your hand inside. You run the back of your finger down her rosy cheeks, letting the tears fall freely. You move your finger to her hand, and she grips your finger tightly. She knows you're here. "I can't wait to take you home. You get better, okay? Mommy and Daddy are waiting for you to come home. You have a family and a big sister, and your brother loves you so very much even though he can't be here with us."

Sam and Garth stay off to the side while you and Dean talk to your little girl. You have two kids now, and you will do everything in your power to give them the life they deserve--a life full of happiness, love, and adventure.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#man's best friend with benefits #series rewrite #supernatural series rewrite #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural angst #spn #spn fic #spn fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fan fiction #spn fanfic #spn fan fic #spn angst

[chey-rewrite]

The Story of the Person Who Taught Me I’m Still Worthy of Love — Even Though I’m Using Drugs

“It’s Avira. Don’t even worry, you can ask me as many times as you need to!”

She did a little half-smile with a twinkle in her eye that told me she was used to having to remind people of her name. It made sense, considering that she interacted with many people who engaged in chronic heavy drug use, suffered from mental illnesses, and had very high-stress day-to-day lives. When you’re living on the streets and are in a constant state of survival, it can be hard to remember someone’s name. Especially one so distinctive as Avira.

“Avira. Got it.” I nodded and shifted the contents of my reusable shopping bag so the handles weren’t digging into my shoulders as much.

I’d met Avira a few months earlier at a drop-in syringe exchange site; the San Francisco AIDS Foundation’s 6th Street location.

I’d gotten all the usual supplies I needed — needles, cookers, cotton swabs, alcohol pads, etc. One of their staff members had let me know that they had a few other services they offered; Narcan, pizza days and groups in their community room. I don’t remember what exactly I was signing up for, or if I was signing up for anything at all, but for one reason or another I was led to sit down and do some kind of intake process.

The person that greeted me was bright and bubbly, with shoulder-length blonde hair and a familiar twinge of sadness behind her bright blue eyes. “Hi! I’m Avira.”

She went down the clipboard asking me the usual about demographics. Gender, race, age.

Where are you living? Outside, around.

Okay, now I’m going to ask you some questions about drug use. In the last thirty days, have you used… Alcohol, weed, crack cocaine, heroin?

She went down the list.

…Methamphetamine? Yes.

She pumped her fist in and exclaimed “yes!” out of some kind of victory, which confused me. Usually when people are asking me all these questions they do anything but celebrate my drug use. “We’re in the club together.” She elaborated, and then moved on to the next question.

That was the first time I met her. I didn’t think a ton of it at the time, but I’ve since been able to recognize this interaction as one of the first seeds planted that assured me I’m not a bad person for doing drugs. That I don’t have to live in shame, that I am capable of being loved unconditionally and accepted just as I am — whether or not I’m on drugs.

The second time I met Avira is when I truly experienced what it’s like to receive the gift of radical acceptance as a person who uses drugs.

I was walking up Market past 6th Street, up the block from the 6th Street syringe exchange. I was carrying a couple of those Nylon reusable shopping bags that were full of the stolen goods I was marching up the street to sell. I hadn’t showered in a while and probably looked fairly rough, but I wasn’t dopesick at the time so I wasn’t terribly burdened by being stopped and greeted.

I had felt bad that she remembered my name so clearly and easily, yet I couldn’t remember hers. But she reminded me ever so kindly, and with all the reassurance in the world that it wasn’t a big deal that I forgot.

“Why don’t you come join me for a cup of coffee? It’s on me.” She smiled, and I agreed. I was unsure of why she was offering exactly — was there something on her agenda? — but something told me it was okay to allow myself to have some trust in this person.

We were already right outside Ritual coffee, so we went in and I opted for the cheapest, simplest thing on the menu — a small black coffee, no cream or sugar. At the time, I didn’t drink coffee much so I didn’t know many other orders anyways.

We sat down in the coffee shop’s chairs that faced outside through the big, glass-paned window wall. Sheepishly and prematurely I sipped my coffee, then did my best to hide the fact that I’d just burnt the shit out of my tongue.

The whole time we talked I waited with caution for her to pivot the conversation to how and why I should stop using drugs, get off the street, and get my life together. I was waiting for a lecture, a gentle yet ridiculously condescending piece of unsolicited advice, a nudge. I was so used to being shamed, shunned, and stigmatized for my drug use by everyone in my life that I truly believed I was a bad person, living a bad life, undeserving of a good life unless I stopped using. I didn’t think that it was possible for someone, especially someone who wasn’t actively using drugs the same way I was, to accept me as I was — drugs and all. I found that Avira didn’t have any agenda. She didn’t look down on me or act as if she knew something I didn’t. She asked me questions about myself; my daily life, background, hobbies, current favorite drugs to do and what kind of safe practices I used. She listened and laughed with me, told jokes and a few of her own stories. She told me explicitly that I wasn’t a bad person for using drugs, and she showed that so clearly with the love, care, and respect that she demonstrated in our interaction.

I felt something brand new open up in my mind after we parted ways. After all the losses of relationships I’d experienced in the recent years — this one, brief experience I had with Avira made me feel like all of that was okay because I’d learned I was capable of being accepted just as I was. Matted hair and all. Reusable shopping bags full of stolen Rogaine and Nexium and all. Picked skin and all. She listened to me like a counselor, laughed with me like a sister, loved and held me like a mom.

When I think about how new the concept harm reduction was to me at this time, I think of the people using drugs who are out there and haven’t had someone like Avira come into their lives. The people who still internalize the messages that the news outlets portray about people experiencing homelessness and using drugs. The people who still use IV opiates alone and in secret, in their room with the door locked. The people who have been kicked out of their family homes and disowned with an order to not come back until they’ve gotten their shit together. The people who’ve only ever been introduced to a 12-step, abstinence-based version of recovery and therefore deem any idea of recovery unattainable. The people that are on a steep spiral of shame downwards, one that will only progress as their basic human needs are continued to be denied.

Avira is the person I talk about when someone asks me why I want to work in harm reduction. Since being sober and learning about the basic principles of harm reduction, I’ve learned that that’s all Avira was doing. She was literally meeting me where I was at — and allowing me to stay there. It was absolutely ground-breaking for me at the time, but now I know that there are entire organizations, classes, specialties and careers based around exactly these principles and modes of recovery. I realized that that’s the person I want to be to others, in whatever capacity that may be. I want to be the person that helps someone else see that they’re worthy of love and acceptance — drug use and all.

#harm reduction #drug use #drug addiction #recovery #people who use drugs #alcoholism #pwud

[modstarfell]

Same story. Different perspectives.

(POV: Akane Taira)

I knew the day was coming, but for it to happen so soon? I took one last peak into the various rooms the children slept in. I know my big brother will be here but... I'll miss them all a lot.

"Let's go Taira."

Master Utsuro called out to me! I quickly rushed over to him and hugged onto his arm. I took a moment to calm myself, I had to get serious for my role. The Ultimate maid, Akane Taira... That's who I'll become and I'll be that for as long as Master Utsuro needs me to. I took a few deep breaths as we walked together.

"Master Utsuro. After we knock him out, what are we going to do?" Part of me wanted him to say something different. I didn't really want- ... That glance...

"Of course. I'm just... I'm hesitant about having blood on my hands."

I followed Utsuro's gaze towards the docs we talked about before... I was stupid to try asking that. We sat down together in bushes that were tall enough to hide the both of us.

"You're right. Indirect murder I suppose, but we need to get into the school together! So this is the only way it must be!" It has to be... right...? Maeda-sama... You will be alright. We'll go to school in your place and you'll make it out alive. With or without us to help you. I gripped onto the bat a bit tighter as I stared at the door. The day, although silent felt like it couldn't tick by any slower.

---

The door finally opened. My eyes shot to observe Maeda-sama as if I was watching prey... an autopilot-like feeling. Utsuro took my hand and I stood up. We trailed from behind all the way to the academy's store. After he went inside, Utsuro and I made our way across the street where we lingered for a bit. We had to wait for Maeda-sama to leave. Catch him off guard like a mouse suddenly having a wall slammed down in front of it. Even if Utsuro hadn't given me orders I knew exactly what we had to do. Some time passed by before Maeda-sama finally left the store. I almost walked right after him but Utsuro had stopped me, putting his hand on mine to stop me. There had to be some distance gained between him and us. When Utsuro decided it was far enough we began walking together after him.

"The weather is so nice today, we should go to the park later." I squeezed Utsuro's arm and leaned my head against his shoulder. Of course though, he didn't answer. He rarely answers anything directly, but I can see it in his eyes. He's focused on the task at hand. He's glad I'm making small talk though.

"Oh, what about ice cream? It'll be nice to sit in the breeze on the swings with some ice cream, it would help cool us off too~" I hummed a bit, dragging my feet on the ground. It seemed to have attracted Maeda-sama's attention though, him looking at two snakes slowly following their prey. Utsuro held onto my hand a bit tighter after catching Maeda-sama's gaze...

Maeda-sama sped up and crossed the street, and Utsuro had me going off in a different direction. "Are you sure you know where we're going? Will this actually help?"

His cold gaze told me very quickly he didn't want to hear what I was thinking for now. We did manage to catch up and Utsuro popped out in front of Maeda-sama.

"O-oh sorry!" Maeda-sama had walked right into Utsuro. He took a moment to try backing up and bumped into me.

I snuck up behind him and raised the bat above my head. "Sorry Mister Maeda, We need this more than you~" I hummed as I brought the bat down and hit him in the back of the head.

"Impressive, no blood shed." The words that left Utsuro's lips... It was praise. He was praising me. I let out a soft exhale before picking up Maeda-sama on my back. He was heavier then I was expecting but it was better then trying to drag him all the way to the docs.

Was this what I really wanted? Walking with Utsuro to the docs while keeping my eyes to the ground. As always with Utsuro's plans, no one in sight to hear a faint of a whisper... Let alone the wind dancing by ears. We walked over to the shelter that was hidden in the ground of the port. I put Maeda-sama down and forced over the cover before rolling him into it. A thud was heard echoing when Maeda-sama hit the bottom. He was starting to wake up. I saw Maeda-sama's eyes staring right back at me- He's alive. He's alive HE'S-

"Close it Taira."

"Yes Master Utsuro." I quickly closed the covering and held onto Utsuro's arm. I took one quick look around and kicked the bat, letting it roll off into the ocean. Utsuro tugged on me a bit to regain my focus.

"I'm Yuki Maeda now, remember that Taira."

Maeda.... Master Utsuro is... Maeda-sama now. I gripped onto my skirt a bit and took a deep breath before nodding with a smile.

(POV: Utsuro)

Today is the day. It was best to leave early while the kids were asleep, Hashimoto Shobai will be around later on to check on them. At least with leaving now it'll cause less disruptions. "Let's go Taira."

With those few words I felt her grasp on tight to my arm, her usual excitement for as though it was fading a bit. She's been practicing... Good. I led Taira out of the forest and off we made it to the Maeda Household. A certain 'lucky student' resided there. I needed to take his place and Taira needed to pick up her uniforms and school bag from the same place he was going to anyway. Lingering around his house wasn't much entertainment though. Even with Taira trying to occupy herself by picking at the grass clippings it was easy to tell her mind was frazzled.

"Master Utsuro. After we knock him out, what are we going to do?"

I glanced over at Akane. I already told her. We already sorted out what to do with him. Why is she asking something so minuscule in the plan?

"Of course. I just... I'm hesitant about having blood on my hands."

I turned to look in the direction of the docs, Akane's glance following mine. It wouldn't be us. Nature would take its course, if he's truly lucky then he'll survive. Otherwise he'll die either naturally or by the rising water.

"You're right. Indirect murder I suppose, but we need to get into the school together! So this is the only way it must be!" Akane was trying to reassure herself, as she gripped the bats handle tighter.

---

The door of the Maeda household finally opened. I stood up and helped Akane up as well, it was time to follow Maeda. Slowly we followed him to the store's location and watched him walk inside. I'll have to remember this location to bring Akane back anyways... He's just showing me where it was in the long run. Not that he has any idea what's about to happen... It took a bit of waiting before he finally came out of the store, Akane and I had lingered at a gas station across the street. Both of us had guaranteed to keep a watch on him in case the other were to look away. He passed by. We waited for him to walk a bit and we began to follow him.

"The weather is so nice today, we should go to the park later."

Akane's small talk attempts to make it seem less likely for him to notice us.

"Oh, what about ice cream? It'll be nice to sit in the breeze on the swings with some ice cream, it would help us cool off too~" She let out a soft hum.

Maeda heard us. It was obvious he did when he turned around to look at us. I held onto Akane's hand to seem like we were every other 'couple'. It should be that simple. He sped up a bit faster, he was going to cross the street. I took this time to move away from our spot, turning another direction. Moving through a smaller alley to keep following Maeda, I was right. He did exactly what I wanted and I stepped out in front of him.

"O-oh sorry!" Maeda bumped into me, with a rather awkward and apologetic look on his face.

I didn't speak back to him. Staring him down as Akane made her way behind Maeda.

"Sorry Mister Maeda, We need this more than you~" She made her voice sing a little as she spoke. It was unmistakable he went down shortly after being hit on the head with the bat.

"Impressive, no blood shed." I praised Akane's skills as I picked up his school bag and she picked him up onto her back. Together we walked down to the docks, it was a docile time with no one looking. There was a shelter hidden in the ground for emergencies. This doesn't count as a proper emergency... It's needed though. Akane put Maeda down on the ground and lifted up the covering for the shelter before rolling him down into it. There was a small thud when his body hit the bottom. I couldn't help but stare at him for a moment. "Close it Taira."

"Yes Master Utsuro." Akane quickly closed the cover and held onto my arm again. After all, now we need to go back to the store as if nothing ever happened.

"I'm Yuki Maeda now, remember that Taira."

(POV: Yuki Maeda)

My day started off with such exciting news! A letter had come in from the mail that I had gotten accepted into Hope's Peak via the lucky raffle drawing they hosted every year! As soon as I finished reading through the letter I ran to my mother to show her "Mom! The mail came and we got a very special letter in it!" I was so excited as I handed the letter over.

"Ah! Yuki I'm so happy for you! I knew you could get in!" She pulled me into a tight hug and began crying.

"M-mom? Are you alright? You don't have to cry- I don't have to-"

"I'm fine Yuki, and you are going. It's just, my son has grown up so fast. I promised myself I wasn't going to cry and here I am anyways. You'll be such a long ways from home Yukiii..."

"I promise I'll keep in touch so you won't have to worry about me too much okay? I'll sent letters every day too!" I gently moved out of my mothers hug and went to wipe away her tears.

"You're right. I can hold up the house while you're away but it'll still feel weird knowing I wont get to make you lunches and dinners as often anymore. I can still at least make as much as I can and you can take leftovers with you to your dorm! Oh, but with the semester starting so soon... You'll have to go and get your uniform from the store that's written on the invitation though, will you be alright going by yourself?"

I'll admit it did feel weird with it being so sudden but, it felt nice that my mom was so worried about me leaving even with knowing how pristine the school is. "Yeah, I think I'll be just fine. It said they should already have some waiting for me right? So I'll just have to pick them up and I'll bring them back, no worries!"

---

It was well past noon by now, I had to make sure to be at the store at the exact time but they were running behind anyways... They had given me my uniforms in my school bag made directly for the school. I didn't think that there was a specific-tailored school bag but I guess it would be easier to identify students that way. Taking a deep breath as I continued my walk, I just had to get back home and everything should sort itself out perfectly. At least that would be asking the easy way of things, there's eyes on me. I can feel it... Where? I looked around for a brief moment where I noticed a duo walking behind me, a boy with a black hoodie over him with his hood covering his face and a girl attached to his arm. They couldn't be watching me right? They look like every other lovey-dovey couple. To avoid seeming awkward I continued till there was a crosswalk and crossed over to the other side of the street, I can always move back over at another time. I just needed to get them off my tail for now. The air shifted a bit and I let out a soft sigh before looking around, the two were gone? They weren't following me after all. If my paranoia is this bad I can only imagine how much worse it'll be inside of school. I closed my eyes for a brief moment as I continued walking to try and ease myself to relax.

Suddenly I bumped into someone. "O-oh sorry!" It was the same man from before. How did he get in front of me? When did he... He was quite a bit the distance away wasn't he? He didn't seem to answer me though. His eyes stared right back into mine, our eyes were nearly identical. Creepy... I tried to back up when I also ended up bumping into someone, I tried to look but then the man grabbed me by my shirt.

"Sorry Mister Maeda, We need this more than you~" There was a girl's voice behind me as she talked in a sing-song tone. Suddenly I felt something heavy hit me and I dropped my school bag, falling to the ground. My head was throbbing now and things began fading to darkness...

When I finally began coming back I was being thrown downwards into a room. I couldn't see properly and everything was blurry but what I could see was their faces. Neither of them held remorse for knocking me out and taking my things. Where even... Am I...? Suddenly the entrance was closed and It was easy to see that I was trapped here. There's nothing but a mattress stuck down here and a camping lantern. Maybe I just have to bide my time... Someone will find me eventually... Right...? My parents will notice I'm missing and definitely send someone out to find me!

#Akane 🍵 #Utsuro 🌌 #yuki 🍀 #aiko 🍀 #revival project #blog spoilers #minific #semi-lore?? #i really dont know how to tag so please take caution #this is the first time i've done three different pov's like this so i wasn't sure how to put it here

[archiveikemen]

Amamiya Henri Main Story — Chapter 12

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Henri: There are more things I want to do on our date... is that okay?

MC: …!?

My heart raced as Henri peered into my face cheekily.

MC: Y-Yeah… of course.

I responded without looking away, but my face was heating up.

(Henri called this a date, but I’m sure he didn’t mean it ‘that’ way.)

(How I wish I weren't so conscious about it…)

Henri: Well then, here.

MC: Huh?

I was puzzled when he suddenly offered me his hand, so I just stared at him.

MC: What?

Henri: Your hand.

Henri said as he took my hand in his.

Our hands were tightly held together…

Henri: Alrighty!

MC: W-Wha!?

(I can’t figure out what this situation is supposed to mean!)

The warmth of his slender yet manly fingers made me feel dizzy.

Henri: We’re on a date, so this is fine. It’s also a good way to avoid getting lost.

Henri: … You hate it?

MC: Uh…

I choked on my words when he tilted his head and asked.

(The way he phrased it…)

While I struggled to answer his question, Henri looked down at our hands in silence.

Henri: …

I found myself gently squeezing Henri’s hand when I saw the lonely look in his eyes.

MC: I don't hate it…!

I managed to blurt out a response…

Henri: Really!?

MC: …!? D-Did you make that face on purpose!?

Henri: Haha. But seriously though, I was actually wondering how to respond if you were to end up saying that you hated it.

Our eyes met and my heart started racing.

I quickly looked away from Henri and sighed, trying to hide my red face.

(I don’t mind it… damn I’m in trouble.)

Henri tugged my hand and spoke.

Henri: Let’s get going, then. Is there anywhere you want to go, MC?

(Somewhere I want to go?)

MC: Do you want to go shopping for clothes?

Henri: Oh? I was thinking the same thing.

MC: Really!? That’s great then.

(It makes me kind of glad to know that we were thinking of the same idea.)

MC: I want to shop for clothes for you too, not just my own clothes.

Henri: Yay!

Seeing Henri’s smile brought a smile to my face too.

So with our hands still together, we started walking.

(I feel like I’m becoming even more caught up in Henri’s pace.)

(But… I don’t hate it.)

As I glanced up at Henri’s face, I remembered what some people once said to me about him.

== Flashback Start ==

Lady 1: Don’t take Henri’s words too seriously, okay?

Lady 1: Henri is super friendly with everyone, so it’s easy to get the wrong idea.

Lady 2: It's the whole reason why so many people get a crush on Henri.

== Flashback End ==

(He called this a date and is even holding my hand… It's misleading me.)

(... To Henri, this is a normal thing to do with female friends.)

(So it’s also normal for him to call this a date?)

I was deep in thought while still staring at Henri.

Henri: …? What’s the matter?

Sensing that I was staring at him, Henri turned to look at me.

MC: Uh… n-nothing.

(No point thinking too much about it.)

I answered quickly and looked to the front.

I took a small breath, trying not to be noticed.

Soon, we came to a shopping street lined with clothing stores on either side.

Henri got visibly excited.

Henri: I shopped at this place with Shuji before~

MC: Heh?

(If I’m not mistaken, the two of them get along pretty well.)

I heard from Shuji that Henri also has an interest in fashion, so they often go shopping together and hang out.

(I bet they have lots of fun whenever they go out together.)

(Just like a couple…)

I gasped when I realized my thoughts went way too far.

MC: … Hey, Henri.

Henri: Oh. What’s up?

I looked up and asked in a serious manner.

MC: Do you also hold hands with Shuji?

Henri: … What?

Henri stopped walking and raised his eyebrows at my question.

Henri: Nope. Shuji will probably get really mad and obliterate me if I hold his hand.

MC: I see… you’re right…

I nodded in agreement with his answer.

Henri: …

MC: …

After a short moment of silence —...

Henri: … Hahahaha

He burst out laughing.

Henri: Haha Shuji and I holding hands? Although that wouldn’t look strange, it still is, don't you think?

MC: What!? Is that so…

I tried picturing them in my head as a man and woman.

Henri: Just imagine Kanade and Kyoichiro walking together hand in hand.

Henri: Same thing, no?

MC: … Um. I can’t imagine them doing that.

(They don't look like a couple.)

Henri: Hmm… oh! How about Haruto and Ritsu?

MC: Ah. That’s easier to imagine!

After forming an image of those two guys in my head, I nodded and responded.

Henri: I bet Ritsu would blow his top if he heard you say that…

Henri: I was going off topic but back to the main point —

Henri held a hand over his chest.

Henri: You’re the only person I hold hands with, MC.

Henri: Okay?

(I thought I was getting mistaken, so I wanted to confirm that I’m not special.)

(That backfired.)

If anything, my body was getting hot.

I held my tongue and tried to control my feelings…

Henri suddenly stopped.

Henri: Are you thirsty? Can I get you some juice?

MC: Hm? … Yeah, my throat’s a little dry.

Henri: Wait here for a while. I’ll go get drinks.

With that, Henri let go of my hand and ran off to buy drinks.

MC: …

(I still feel hot.)

I sighed because of the feverish feeling I’ve been having since just now.

(It’s bothering me a little, but I don’t hate it.)

(This feeling… kind of like a song.)

Just as I was deep in thought with my hand grabbing my chest,

MC: Eh!?

I looked down in surprise and saw a little girl standing there.

MC: W-What’s the matter?

When I immediately crouched down to her height, the little girl frowned.

Little Girl: You… you’re not my mama…

MC: WHAT!?

Little Girl: Mama—!

Holding onto my hand, the little girl started wailing loudly.

MC: Um… could it be that you got separated from your mother?

I frantically looked around the area, but her mother was nowhere to be seen.

MC: Don’t cry. You’ll be alright!

I tried to pacify her by patting her head, but she didn't stop crying.

MC: Is this little girl's mother here—!?

Several passersby turned to look, but none of them approached us.

(Her mother’s not here…!?)

(Should I call the police in such situations!? Call 110!?)

The little girl continued crying while I stood there panicking.

When I rummaged through my bag searching for my phone…

Henri: Huh? Did you multiply?

MC: …!

I looked up in surprise when I heard his voice.

MC: Henri!

Henri flashed me his usual smile.

Henri: By any chance, is this child lost?

MC: I think so. She must’ve mistook me for her mother…

Henri: I see, I see.

Henri nodded and passed me the two bottles of juice he was holding.

Henri: Hold these for a while.

MC: …? Okay.

I stood up and held the bottles.

At the same time, Henri stretched out his two arms towards the little girl.

Henri: Come here, little princess.

Henri said with a bright smile and gently picked up the crying little girl.

Henri: Don’t cry. You’ll look more adorable when you’re smiling.

Henri: Smile～

The little girl looked a little surprised at first, but then she got shy because of Henri.

Henri: Haha, you’re so adorable. Shall we look for your mama together?

Carrying the little girl in his arms, Henri looked around.

Henri: Where did you get separated from mama?

Little Girl: Over there… I thought mama had already left the store, but she didn’t. And now I can’t find her…

The little girl gripped onto Henri’s clothes and pointed in the direction of a store a small distance away from us.

Henri: That store? Got it. Mama might still be in there.

Henri: Let’s go look for her.

I was shocked by how surprisingly smoothly he handled the situation.

(I was panicking, but Henri did great.)

The more Henri talked to the little girl, the wider her smile grew.

(I don’t believe this is how an empty person would act… I knew he was lying.)

(Because he can easily bring smiles to people’s faces, just like he’s doing now.)

(If I could write a song about it for Henri, that would be a dream come true.)

I stood there thinking. Henri, who had already started walking with the little girl in his arms, stopped and turned around.

Henri: Hey, that princess over there?

MC: Eh? Me?

Henri: Yup. Please come along so you don’t get lost, okay?

MC: … S-Sorry.

I was stunned for a moment by Henri’s playful smile, but I quickly caught up with them.

In the end, we found the little girl’s mother in the store…

Henri: That was awkward—

#ikemen live #ikelive #ikelive main story #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #henri main story

[writing-in-mermish]

“You know I really hate to do this, but your boyfriend has left me no choice.” the villain said as her henchmen tied me up.

“You actually have a lot of choices, you can’t just blame the ones you don’t like on him.” I retorted. this shtick was getting old.

“He made me like this.” She says, venom in her voice.

“There were a lot of things that compounded your decent into villainy. You’ve told me about a lot of them over the many times you’ve kidnapped me.” I say.

She doesn’t take this well.

“Gag her!” She commands. Her henchmen comply.

“Come on, is that really nesi-” I’m gagged before I can finish.

She pours herself a glass of water and walks over to me. Takes a sip. Then splashes the rest of it in my face. I give her a look that says why? what was the point of that?

“you needed to look more distressed.” She explains. I roll my eyes.

the henchmen get the camera ready and the villain goes through her menacing taunt. She’s going to harm something, but she also has me, yadda, yadda. At this point I’ve tuned him out. I tried to get through to her, but she’s not having it. maybe next time. this is old hat by this point and I’m kinda bored of it.

the superhero will save the day and rescue me, we’ll let people see us, and then he’ll drop me off so I can get back to my actual job instead of standing in for his loved ones for villains to harass.

I am the superhero’s fake girlfriend.

:readmore:

I let the public think we’re together so his real loved ones don’t have to deal with this nonsense. Not that he doesn’t care for my well being, but we’re just friends and I can take care of myself if need be.

I suggested this set up to him when he confessed to me that he was struggling keeping his relationship a secret.

“It’s so complicated.” He said, burying his head in his hands. “I don’t want to hide her, but I don’t want to endanger her either.”

“that is a tough one.” I said. “All the fans would be a pain to deal with. So many broken hearts.”

“You know what I mean!” He said, giving me a dirty look. “Super villains.”

“Oh yeah, them too I guess.” I said, feigning cluelessness. “Why not get a fake girlfriend.”

“What?”

“Like a stunt double, but for real life.”

“that’s ridiculous.”

“Is it though? this way, people know you’re taken, but they don’t know who you really care about, and won’t go searching. Plus, this keeps your secret identity a secret. It’s like a beard! A super beard. wait, it that cultural appropriation?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter because I’m not doing it.”

“Why not?!”

“It’s a terrible idea! I’m not going to endanger somebody else’s life to protect my girlfriend from the possibility of people finding out about her. We’ll just deal.”

“But that’s the thing! You don’t just pick a rando off the street, you pick someone who can defend themselves. Someone you wouldn’t have to worry about to much.”

“But I’d be ruining their social life too. They’d become a celebrity. And they wouldn’t be allowed to date.”

“Then pick someone who doesn’t care and isn’t into that. What else you got.” It had become a game at that point, and I was winning.

“What if it makes Irene uncomfortable?”

Okay, maybe I wasn’t winning. “Alright, you got me there. She’s the whole reason you’d be doing this so if she isn’t down, it’s a no go.”

I thought that was the end of it, until Irene came by with him a week later.

“Hey Jean.” She said.

“Oh, hi Irene, you stealing Charles for a bit?” I asked.

“Actually, we had something we wanted to talk to you about.” She said.

“Of course, shoot.”

“Charles told me about the idea you had, and we decided it we should do it.”

“An excellent choice… what idea was that again?”

Irene laughed and Charles sighed at me.

“The fake girlfriend idea” She clarified.

Oh, wow, cool. Did you want me to help look for candidates?”

“Actually,” Charles said, “We wanted to ask you.”

“Really?!”

“Of course!” Irene said. “you’re the perfect choice. You work with the league and are already friends, you’re nigh indestructible, and you’re not into relationships, unless that’s changed?”

“Pft, No.”

“See, perfect! So, will you have us?” She extended her hands to me.

“I feel like I’m getting proposed to.” I laughed.

“Nevermind, this was a bad idea to begin with.” Charles said.

“Hey,” I interjected, “that’s rude.” I took Irene’s hand and shook my head, laughing a little. “I would love to impersonate you Irene”

#my writing #superhero #fake dating #but sans romance #ace aro?

[ashwelwood]

Haiti Diary, August 2001. Age 16.

I got into a fight with mom tonight about my stupid skirt. Until this moment I haven’t realized what I’m doing. Suddenly everything is rushing to me. Tomorrow I go to Haiti. I am scared. Naive. Immature. Young. So shy. My little world is so comfortable. This world is so greedy. I could cry. Why am I going? Right now my relationship with God is close to non-existent. 

I slept only two hours last night. We ran to our plane in Toronto. We’re taking off and I’m not scared. 3700 altitude. Taking off is the best part. 

Bon soir, I’m in Haiti. It is very hot. It is very dirty. Already the smell is getting to me. Pollution, dirt, and other foul things. It will get hotter. It’s not “slutty” or “working woman-like” to wear shorts or short skirts. The problem is the men I’m here with. Sexist. I can wear and do whatever I want.

I went swimming in the Atlantic Ocean. It was salty and beautiful.

I feel so dirty. Can the people help their conditions or not? The streets are dirty, noisy, and crowded. People everywhere. A little naked boy stole my camera during our walk today. Wild animals everywhere. Goats, pigs, oxen, roosters, and skinny dogs. Voodoo witch doctors and machetes. We had pumpkin soup with crackers and juice for lunch today. It was good. Our hosts Paul and Belle seem rich compared to others. Sometimes it seems like they are angry. Why am I here?

Oh my. Jeanty really likes me. He’s 25 and wants out of Haiti. His visa to the United States was recently rejected. He spoke to my mom about “what he felt in his heart for me.” He wants to be alone with me to tell me his feelings. Not good, not good at all. I feel bad for him. Why can’t they just allow him in? Mom is driving me crazy. Really and honestly, it’s not me this time. Naomi just came knocking on my door. I thought it was Jeanty. Thank God it wasn’t. Really, I do. I just get shy. 

I dread devotions and prayer time. I want to learn and connect but don’t want to pray in front of people. The nerves in my eyes twitch tremendously. 

I had a shower this morning. It was cold and felt good but I’m not clean anymore. Dirt and dust from chiseling out the wall at the school to install an air conditioner got all over me. My legs are sore from walking but I don’t mind. What’s going on outside? I hide in my room. There is a dog that is always coughing. It’s sad and gross. Naomi and I call him Weezy. I’m going to look out the window. Am I a missionary? I haven’t thought of myself as one, and for some reason don’t want to be. I hate stickiness. 

I slept in Naomi’s room instead last night. 

We just got back from the street concert. We ate sugar cane and it was fun again. I don’t know what’s up with Jeanty. He tried to hold my hand. Mom interferes. Yesterday at the beach she told him, “it was okay if he wanted to buy me a drink.” I’m okay, I don’t need her in that area of my life. Jeanty talks really quietly - but that’s not because he is shy. He doesn’t seem so old. This country is growing on me. 

I don’t fit in. Today I felt worn down by all the people. Always starring. Shouting “Blanc! Blanc!” It’s not so fun when they crowd all around me. 

Mom is talking to Alix right now. It’s nice to have time to myself. 

Will I forget the smell of Haiti? Garbage, sweat, street food, and diesel oil. It’s distinct. There is dirt under my nails. My feet are dark, also covered in dirt. I don’t know these people yet we are so open and together. I remember when we woke up early to catch the little silver plane to The Bahamas. We drove to the airport in a van and waited for a long time in a special missions building. Naomi and I walked out to the plane together. Inside we read in case of crash. Alix gave us bubblegum and we laughed really loud because he was cracking jokes. I sat in front with the pilots for a bit. It was loud. Mom thought one of them was good looking. I slept most of the flight. When we arrived in Haiti I saw a big mountain. Children swarmed us. They said, “gimme one dolla. Best you could do, give me one dolla.”

I pray my photos turn out.

I have a stomach ache again today. We went to the market after lunch. I did not enjoy myself. It was dirty and little things were frustrating me. Jeanty spoke to me in a sly way. “What will you do if God wants you to stay in Haiti?” he asked. I don’t know if God wants me to stay in Haiti. Jeanty wants God to want that for me. 

There are four dogs living on the property. People don’t name their animals here so Naomi and I have named them all. Weezy is always coughing. It is disgusting. Alfonzo is the smallest and therefore the cutest. He’s growing out of puppyhood and loves to play. There is Nips, whose nipples are very visible. That’s a funny one. The last dog we are always confused with so we called it Wiznip. Minouche is what people call their cats.

Oh, Jeanty needs attention. 

Naomi is like a box and inside that box there is a gift. A gift of friendship.

I am sad to leave. On the plane ride home I began to experience a reverse kind of culture shock. Feelings of guilt. Now knowing what life is like in Haiti. Haiti now under my skin. 

On the last day we left at 6:10am to climb up to The Citadel - Eighth World Wonder. It was truly amazing. For lunch we went to a resort and swam in a pool. I ate a cheeseburger with fries. The High Counsellor of the Dominican Republic & Cape Haitian hit on me and Naomi. He told me I was “très belle.” I felt like I left Jeanty. 

That evening Jeanty took us on a very long hike up to an incredibly beautiful waterfall. I wore terrible shoes. We relaxed in the water only briefly because dark was quickly approaching. We hit a horse on the way home with the truck. Jeanty was driving so fast and could barely stop. The horse whined then wandered off.

Naomi and I couldn’t find Alfonzo to say goodbye. 

I am now back in boring Winnipeg. Everything is still happening in Haiti. People walking about. Dogs barking for attention. Children running around. The roosters crow and the music still plays. Why was I brought to Haiti?

 Because he loved her will all the Haitian love he had.

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