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stolenslumber · 9 months

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devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes (pjs)

Jay needs someone to pretend to be his girlfriend, and you’re just the person for the job— seriously, you’re almost a professional at this point, regularly charming the families of your idiot twin’s friends who need your help getting their parents off their back. Of course, leave it up to Jay to blur the lines of your fake relationship so smoothly that you catch real feelings; falling in love has never been this easy.

PAIRING: park jongseong x female reader GENRE: acquaintances to partners in crime to fake dating to lovers i guess? lol, college au, vaguely greek life au, vaguely rich kid au, fluff fluff fluff, jake is the mc’s twin bc i thought it would be funny WARNINGS: swearing, kissing and suggestive content/sexual themes WORD COUNT: 14.4k A/N: ik the ages don't line up here shhhh just ignore that okay

NOW AVAILABLE: hang your head low in the glow (companion fic/follow-up)

“WHY DO YOU LOOK SO NICE?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” You scoff, tossing the apple you were just about to eat at Jake’s head. Annoyingly, he catches it in mid-air, then makes a show out of polishing it with his shirt and taking a big bite out of it. “Hey, I was going to eat that, asshole.”

“Shouldn’t have thrown it at me, then.”

You roll your eyes at your twin, then go to retrieve another apple from the fruit bowl. It’s surprisingly well-stocked, given that you’re in a frat’s kitchen. Honestly, it’s surprising that there even is a fruit bowl in a frat’s kitchen, but the president of this frat runs a tight ship.

Said president appears in the doorway just then, snatching the apple from your hands as well as the one from Jake’s hands. “Guys, seriously, you have to wash these before you eat them.”

You and Jake both whine simultaneously. “Chan!”

“I already took a bite out of that, bro,” Jake complains.

“I’m starving; please have mercy,” you beg.

Chan whips his head around from where he’d begun washing the apples in the sink to fuss at you. “What? Why haven’t you eaten yet? It’s almost 9pm!”

“Which reminds me— why do you look so nice?” Jake repeats.

“I had a thing with Mark,” you sigh.

“You can just say you were pretending to be his girlfriend; we all know what you mean,” Jake snorts.

“I had a thing with Mark,” you repeat, resisting the urge to throw another apple at Jake’s head. “It was at this ballroom downtown, and of course he had nothing to wear, so I had to take him shopping first, which made us late, and then his parents wouldn’t stop talking my ear off about how I need to convince him to give up the music major, so I couldn’t touch any of the food there. Not even the foie gras torchon,” you recall mournfully. “We just got back, like, five minutes ago.”

Chan hums sympathetically— he knows how much you love foie gras torchon. “You can probably ask for an endless supply in return for your appearance at today’s thing,” he suggests, only half-joking. It absolutely sounds like the kind of thing Mark Lee would agree to, what with his ridiculously large inheritance and hapless generosity (last month, Mark lost thousands of dollars in some animal shelter-related pyramid scheme, marketed to him by none other than Lee Haechan).

You wave a hand dismissively. “Nah, I’m keeping Mark’s favor for something else.”

Jake raises an eyebrow. “What else?”

“Whatever it turns out I need in the future, dumbass. What’s it to you, anyways?”

“Just wanna make sure the poor guy doesn’t end up trapped in your snares forever, little sis. Yo, can I have that apple back?” Jake turns to Chan with characteristic puppy eyes.

“You’re only older than me by eight minutes,” you grumble, the age-old retort slipping out of you before you can help it.

“No, Jaeyun, you cannot. And don’t talk to your sister like that— oh my god, why do I sound like Taeyong,” Chan mutters, thinking about his predecessor frat-president-slash-mother-hen.

“Jeez, government name and everything.” Jake holds his hands up, relinquishing his claim to the apple.

“In fact, your sister gets to have both of these apples, after I clean and cut them up, because she is a saint for continuing to save our asses from our parents like this,” Chan lectures, unceremoniously carving out the chunk of the apple with Jake’s bite marks and tossing it into the trash bin.

“Real ones get it!” You reach out and high-five Chan.

“That is so unfair, c’mon, man!” Jake splutters. “She gets just as much out of these fake relationships— seriously, didn’t you drive her around everywhere for, like, a month after she went to that wedding with you?”

Both you and Chan shudder at the memory. “Ugh, my worst cousin and the worst guy he was ever with. They’re still married, by the way.” Chan shakes his head. “God knows why.”

“Love conquers all…?” Jake offers.

“What the hell are you talking about love for,” a new voice grumbles. Park Jongseong strolls in through the doorway, hands full with plastic bags promising wonderful things based on how your stomach reacts to the smell.

“Oh, hell yeah, chicken!” Jake cheers. “Took you long enough, bro.”

“Traffic was hell; something about a ball downtown, and— oh. Hey.” Jay stops abruptly at the sight of you, now munching on the apple slices Chan hands you, one by one.

You wave vaguely in his direction, too busy eating to respond. Jay is one of your brother’s friends who you don’t know that well, since you’ve never pretended to be his girlfriend. It’s strange that you two don’t know each other better, actually— as the social chairs of your sorority and his fraternity, respectively, you would usually have a lot to work on together. But this year has been particularly busy for you, what with your senior thesis and your various things with Jake’s frat brothers, and you had delegated most of your social chair responsibilities to your co-chair, Yunjin, who was far better suited to the social part of the job, anyways. You suspected Jay had done the same thing, since the two of you only ever texted to confirm budgets for any joint events.

“You need to have more than one-and-three-quarters of an apple for dinner,” Chan scolds you, parental instincts back in full force.

You shrug, about to turn around and rifle through the cabinets to see if you can find some peanut butter to add to your apple slices when a takeout container appears in front of you. Tired and still starving, you react rather slowly, your eyes tracing up the hand on the container to the veins of an arm belonging to none other than Jay.

“You look hungry,” is all he says, before popping the container open for you and rearranging the rest of the plastic bags on the counter. “Jake, tell the others to come down for food.”

The others means that soon, there will be an influx of hungry frat brothers in the kitchen, and you have no desire to be anywhere near that, so you mumble a quick thank you to Jay, plop the rest of the apple slices into the takeout container (against Chan’s complaints about the contamination), and move to leave the kitchen, eager to be on your way to your sorority house.

The last thing you overhear before you leave is Jay asking, “Why did your sister look so nice?”, and Jake and Chan responding in unison, “She had a thing.”

A few days later, when they’re doing work in the library, Jay asks Jake, “So how long have Mark and your sister been seeing each other?”

Jake’s pencil jerks across his graph paper, a jagged line appearing on the page at the same time that he swears. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Jay echoes flatly. “Didn’t you say she had a thing with Mark?”

Jake blinks. “Well, sure, in the same way that she’s had a thing with Chan, and Yeonjun, and Vernon, and all the others.”

Jay gapes at him. “Your sister dated all of them? And all the others?”

“What, no, she didn’t date them, she fake-dated them! Just a couple of times, mainly showing up to things with their families so their parents would leave them alone about finding a partner and all that. You know how the parents are.” Jake gestures vaguely, referring to the oddities of the world of wealth they were born into.

Jay nods slowly, understanding dawning upon him. Does he know how the parents are? Oh, does he ever. He has always had a good relationship with his own, but they had been more pushy on the whole love thing as of late, with the not-at-all subtle questions his mother asks about any special someones in his life and the unfunny jokes his dad cracks about how he’s still spry enough to help raise grandchildren. Especially unfunny, given the health scare his dad had given them all in the last year.

Jake’s voice brings him out of his veering-towards-morbid thoughts. “But seriously, bro, how is this news to you? My sister’s been doing this… Cinderella-genie thing for two years now.”

Jay’s eyebrows furrow. “Cinderella-genie thing?”

“Yeah, I mean, she transforms our frat brothers into respectable young men with a respectable relationship, but only for three occasions, and she gets the same number of favors back.” Jake wrinkles his nose. “It sounds weird when I say it like that, and don’t get me wrong, I love to give her shit for it, but it’s all above-board stuff. Sunghoon bought her bubble tea for like, three months. Oh, and no one’s allowed to catch feelings, so everything ends clean and neat.”

“She fake-dated Sunghoon?”

At the mention of his name, Sunghoon pops one side of his headphones off. “What’s up?”

“You fake-dated Jake’s sister!?”

Sunghoon shushes him before responding. “Yeah, don’t you remember? It was a couple of months ago.”

Jay’s ears flush, both at how loud he had unconsciously gotten, and at the reminder that he really has been out of it for a while now. It’s not like he’s been living under a rock, but he has definitely been spending a lot more time with his parents and away from his friends ever since his dad’s health scare.

“She was great, though,” Sunghoon continues. “My mom still thinks I made the biggest mistake of my life ‘letting her go.’ But she’s also been leaving me alone about ‘finding love’ because she thinks I’m heartbroken, so yeah, Jake’s sister works wonders.”

Jake smirks. “Sim genes, man. Elite stuff.”

Sunghoon scoffs. “You wish. Didn’t I hear your mom yelling at you on the phone the other day for not having settled down yet?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Does she not realize what decade this is, I mean, we’re still in college—”

Jay interrupts what looks to be the beginning of a long rant from Jake, cutting him off with, “So where can I sign up?”

Jake stares blankly at him. “Sign up for what?”

“The Cinderella-genie thing.”

Sunghoon scrunches his face awkwardly. “Uh, she kind of has a waitlist, buddy.”

Jay waits for him to laugh and say he’s just kidding, but he doesn’t. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, she doesn’t do the fake-dating thing for multiple people at the same time, and she’s pretty busy with all her shit, so I’m not sure how long of a queue you have ahead of you…”

“Okay, but Jake could get me ahead, right? Cut the line, or something? C’mon dude, I’m your best friend.” Jay is suddenly desperate, remembering the conversation he’d had with his mom on the phone last night, where she had dreamily recalled meeting his dad in college and delicately reminded Jay that he could have a plus-one to the Parks’ upcoming 50th wedding anniversary celebration.

Jake eyes his friend warily. “I dunno, she really doesn’t like stuff like that. Unfair advantages, I mean.”

“My parents aren’t getting any younger, Jake, and you know, with my dad last year and everything…” Jay does his best approximation of batting his eyelashes at Jake.

“Are you guilt-tripping me?”

“A little?” Jay’s smile turns a little maniacal. “For real, my parents have their 50th wedding anniversary coming up, and it would be the perfect event to bring her to so I can reassure them that things are going well in my love life.”

“Are things going anywhere in your love life?” Sunghoon’s tone is skeptical, and reasonably so.

Jay has been distant lately because of his family, but even before that, he had always been known as somewhat aloof and unattainable. Devastatingly handsome, yes, with killer grades and fierce ambition, and a business empire to inherit to boot, but he is also his parents’ one and only miracle child, born after years of trying and almost giving up. Jay’s parents are older than all of his friends’ parents, and their family business has always been that— a family business. Jay has two years after graduation to learn the ropes in the business, and then he’ll be due for an MBA, and then a return to helm the business, but this timeline has recently felt more urgent than ever with his parents’ flagging health. They would never say it, but he knows the only reason they haven’t retired yet is because they don’t want to hand over control of the business to anyone but him. Jay has worked his ass off in college, trying to get there as fast as he can, as well as he can. But his parents also want him to enjoy college and find true love, and while he’s been doing pretty well with the former, the latter has been on the backburner for, well, forever. Who has time for true love, in between classes, fraternity duties, the various shenanigans his friends get up to, internships, networking, TA-ing, volunteering, being on the executive board of two clubs, and eating, sleeping, dreaming, and thinking?

So. No. Things are not going anywhere in his love life, and he confirms just as much to Sunghoon with a grunt, to which Sunghoon wheezes out his amusement.

Jake eyes Jay with pity, now. “Alright, that guilt trip was successful, but more so because you just admitted to being bitchless for so long. I’ll put in a good word to my sister for you.”

Jay perks up instantly. There is light and beauty in this world after all! “Awesome, thank you bro, you won’t regret this, I promise!”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but those are famous last words, Park.” Jake raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure you can handle my sister?”

“Why not? She seems… nice.” Jay is slightly evasive in his answer, and truthfully, it’s because he isn’t really sure what you’re like. All your interactions to date have been cordial, almost business-like, and you and Jake are fraternal twins, so it’s not even like he’s really familiar with what you look like. He is, however, sure that you look beautiful in a ballgown, even if he only saw you in one in his frat’s kitchen.

Jake chortles outright. “No, my sister is not nice. Yeah, I’m definitely going to convince her to help you, just because I think it’ll be hysterical watching her turn you inside out. Good luck, my brother in Christ, because you’ll need it!”

you: hey jake told me abt ur predicament

jay: … good morning, how are you? i’m pretty good myself

you: ???

jay: just being polite. and it’s not a predicament i’m just… interested in your services

you: good for you? anyways i’m super busy right now and don’t really have time to be taking on anything else so i’m just letting you know that i can’t help you out. good luck though

jay: how about coffee?

you: what?

jay: do you want coffee?

you: like right now?

jay: yeah i’m on your porch

You almost throw your phone to the other side of the room. True, Jay’s fraternity house is across the street from your sorority house, but it still feels absurd to think that he’s right there, less than twenty feet below your room. Is he stalking you?

Accordingly, that’s the first thing you ask him when you throw the door open to him. “Are you stalking me?”

He scoffs. “As if. I asked Jake to ask Yunjin for your location.”

“That’s not not stalking.”

Jay shrugs, though he has the decency to look a little embarrassed as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Whatever. I just walked across the street; that’s all. So, coffee?”

You stare at him for a few moments, weighing your options. Truthfully, you were about to leave to get coffee before your first class, anyways, but you’re not sure how long you want to entertain Jay. You decide to split the difference. “I’m on my way to Nat’s, so you can tag along. But I’m just grabbing a coffee to go, and then I have class.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Gimme a second; I’ll grab my stuff.” For some reason, your heart is beating a little faster than usual when you reach your room. You’d like to blame it on the stairs you just climbed, but something about Jay coming to find you at your front door feels old-fashioned and sweet, though your rational mind reminds you that he literally just walked a couple hundred feet. He even said so, himself.

But when you come back down to see him leaning against the doorway with his hands still in his pockets, looking out into the street, you suddenly remember that Jay is, like, really good-looking. Despite yourself, you find yourself admiring the cut of his jaw and how nice his hair is styled. It’s not like you don’t know plenty of attractive guys— hell, the guys you usually fake-date are all objectively hot. It’s just inconvenient that you now recall how Jay has always seemed to be the most mature out of Jake’s friends, even from what little you know of him. Unhelpfully, your brain also conjures up the image of him sliding a takeout container to you last week, and the way your eyes had lingered on the veins of his arm.

God. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten laid.

Jay’s voice breaks you out of your bizarre trance. “Ready, Cinderella?”

“Excuse me?”

“Jake told me about your whole Cinderella-genie thing. It would be weird to call you ‘genie’, so…” Jay trails off, scratching the back of his head and looking actually embarrassed now.

You can’t help but laugh. “Right, because Cinderella is totally less weird. Alright, big guy, let’s go.”

The walk to Nat’s, your favorite local coffee shop, takes about 15 minutes— 10, if you’re walking fast, which you usually are. Jay’s legs are uselessly long, but he seems determined to walk as slowly as possible, while also staying silent the whole time. Finally, you reach the end of your patience and step out right in front of him, intending to ask him what the hell he’s doing. Unfortunately, you find that you misjudged the distance, and he almost collides right into you.

“Whoa,” he mutters, reaching out to grab your arms to steady the both of you.

“Sorry,” you huff, embarrassed at yourself. A lot of that going around today. “I just… what’s your deal? I already told you I can’t help you, and then you show up at my door and ask me to get coffee, but you don’t say a single word. What do you want from me?”

Instead of answering your question, he asks, “Why do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“The Cinderella-genie thing.”

You roll your eyes. “Jake has got to stop calling it that. It’s a long story, honestly.” Sighing, you reach into your backpack to pull out your planner. “Alright, we’re already past the amount of time I scheduled to get my coffee and get ahead on some readings before class, so I guess we can sit down inside.”

Jay raises an eyebrow. “You have time for me now? Also, that’s the most insane planner I’ve ever seen.”

You gesture around you. You had stopped Jay almost at the door of Nat’s, and you’re clogging up the sidewalk. “We should at least get out of the way of these people. And yeah, I’m sure it is.” You are a live-and-die-by-your-planner kind of person. Everything is in there— social events, studying time, your various things with Jay’s frat brothers, even things like eating and showering and sleeping. It seems psychotic, sure, but you’re a busy person, and there’s no way you’d be able to handle everything without the strict schedule you set for yourself.

When you walk up to the counter inside Nat’s, your favorite barista— a cute high school kid named Riki— is manning the register. You smile warmly at him. “Hey, Riki. The usual, please.”

You expect Riki to tease you about your usual, which contains an admittedly concerning amount of caffeine, but instead he calls out, “Jay! What’s up, my man!”

From behind you, Jay reaches out and fist-bumps Riki. “Hey, long time no see, buddy. How’s history going?”

Riki groans theatrically. “Horribly, ever since you stopped tutoring me.”

Jay frowns. “Wait, really? What are you having trouble with? I know I’m kind of swamped right now but we can always find some time and—”

Riki bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Jeez, you should’ve seen your face. Relax, I got a 94 on my last paper!”

“Oh, very funny, you menace!” Jay punches Riki’s shoulder, but his expression eases up. You wonder at the fondness that twinkles in his eyes.

Riki laughs some more, then he turns to you. “Noona, one cup of liquid death coming up! Hyung, what about you?”

“London fog, please. And seriously, text me if you’re having trouble, okay?”

Riki waves the both of you off, telling you that he’ll bring your drinks over to you.

You make a beeline for your favorite spot, right by the large window that overlooks the sidewalk. Jay surprises you for the umpteenth time that morning by easily striding ahead and pulling your chair out for you, then coughing and turning red when you give him a weird look.

“Sorry, I, uh, yeah. Instinct,” he explains, which is really no explanation at all.

“Are you courting me or something?” You try to keep your tone light and joking, but confusion inevitably slips in. Nothing Jay has done today has made sense.

He seems to have regained his composure when he sits down, because he hits you with, “I guess you could say that. It’s just something I think I’d do for my girlfriend.”

You stare at him blankly. “Thanks for telling me…?”

“I mean, if you’re going to fake-date me, you can probably expect me to do stuff like that, right?”

You groan. “I’m not going to fake-date you, Jay, how many times do I have to say it? I—”

“— don’t have time, I know. But what if I could make it worth your while?”

“Jay, you know I’m Jake’s sister, right? We have money. Besides, I’m helping Mark right now, and I don’t do this for multiple people at the same time.”

“Oh yeah, Jake told me about that rule. What if I could take care of that for you?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll help Mark find a real girlfriend, and then you can help me, instead.”

“If it were that easy, don’t you think Mark would have done it himself?”

Jay waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, please, Mark’s been crushing on the girl in his music class for ages. He gets too into his head about asking her out, so he chickens out every time. They’re partners on a project right now, though, so I’ll just give him a push in the right direction.”

You have to admit that you’re intrigued by his proposition. Everything Jay just said lines up with what you know about Mark, especially the chickening out part. You’d like to see Jay try, and you figure it can’t hurt either way, so you nod. “Okay, fine. If you can help Mark, I’ll help you. But seriously, what’s your deal? Why do you want my help so badly?”

Jay blinks, then he leans back into his chair. “Oh. Honestly, I haven’t 100% decided that I do, yet.”

“But you’re willing to agree to help Mark Lee with a girl in order to secure my help?” You shake your head. “You’re really strange, Park.”

“I get overly invested in challenges really easily,” Jay confesses, showing you an unexpectedly bashful smile. “So I got a little caught up just now in the idea that I could change your mind about helping me. But now that you’ve brought it up, I’ll still help Mark, no matter what. I’m sick of him writing lovesick songs about that girl, anyways.”

“Large iced Americano, no water, four shots of espresso. And a London Fog,” Riki announces. He sets the drinks down on your table right as the bell above the shop’s door chimes and lets in the pre-9am work crowd. He groans and bids you both a hasty goodbye.

Jay eyes your coffee with disgust. “Liquid death, huh? That’s disturbing.”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” You tilt the cup in his direction, laughing when he shudders.

“Absolutely not. I can’t believe you order that enough that Riki knows it’s your usual.”

“I usually see him in the afternoons when I order this, actually, so I’m sure he’s going to give me an earful about getting one in the mornings, too. Speaking of— doesn’t he have school?” You whip around in your seat to stare at Riki.

“He has two free periods on Mondays this year, so I guess he picked up an extra shift. He’s a hard working kid,” Jay says.

You turn back around to see him with that same fondness in his eyes. “How do you know him, by the way?”

“Ah, he’s my little’s friend from high school. My little is Jungwon— cat-looking dude?”

You let out a squeal. “Oh my gosh, he’s the cutest!”

Jay crosses his arms and grins, looking amused. “Yeah, he is pretty cute. Anyways, Jungwon mentioned his friend was having trouble with his history class last year, so I started tutoring him a bit, just casually, since I’m studying history.”

“Not economics?” You’ve heard about Jay’s family’s notoriously tightly-controlled company. Everything is within the family, so you’re surprised that he isn’t getting ready to take over.

“Both. I can have two majors, you know. What’s yours?”

“Linguistic anthropology. And studio art. I can have two majors, you know.”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay, I know that was pretentious. What’s linguistic anthropology?”

You clear your throat, not expecting to talk about your hopes and dreams so early in the morning, and with someone who’s only a few steps away from being a stranger. “Languages, and the social and cultural foundations of them. Basically. I want to do linguistic archaeology in grad school, and this is the closest thing you can get in undergrad.”

Jay leans forward and nods enthusiastically. “That sounds really cool. What kind of art are you doing?”

“Oil paints, mostly, and some charcoal drawing…”

Like that, an hour flies by. You don’t even notice the blocks in your calendar getting overwritten by what is essentially a coffee date with Jay until you get the reminder that you have class in thirty minutes.

“Shit, I gotta go soon.” You say it with some regret; surprisingly, you’re really enjoying yourself with Jay. He’s smart, and funny, and a little awkward in a way that makes you think he’s the most sincere person you’ve ever met. And he has interesting thoughts and opinions on history, some of which you even make a mental note to follow up on later for your thesis.

“Before you go, will you tell me why you do the fake-dating thing?” Jay puts his head in both his hands and smiles at you, and…

“Are you batting your eyelashes at me?”

Jay squints at you. “Maybe. Is it working?”

“Not really,” you lie, like a liar.

“Didn’t work on Jake, either. Man, I gotta work on it.” Jay gives up the act and relaxes back into his chair. “Will you tell me, though?”

“Sure, it’s not like it’s a big secret or anything. It’s not even that long of a story, now that I think about it. Not something worth trying to seduce me over, but I like your hustle,” you joke.

“So it was working!”

“I wouldn’t go that far. Okay, so it started with Chan. He just didn’t want to go to his horrible cousin’s horrible wedding, but his sister had been arguing with the cousin about Chan and was, like, defending his honor or something? And one thing spiraled into another and all of a sudden Chan needed to show up to the wedding with an impressive partner to prove to his cousin that he could pull.” You make a face. “Boys. I’d actually met this particular cousin before, through some convoluted situation at one of those holiday parties that our families throw, and I knew he was insufferable, so I was willing to help out. Other guys in the frat heard about it, and you know, it’s surprising but not shocking that your frat has a lot of guys with some sort of weird baggage that prevents them from actually seriously dating someone. It’s weirder that a significant number of them also find themselves in situations where they need to pretend to have a girlfriend, but as it turns out, I’m really good at it— being a fake girlfriend, I guess. I haven’t had much time to date myself, so it’s kind of nice hearing how much everyone’s families liked me as their potential daughter-in-law. Plus, I always get favors in return, so it’s not the worst thing in the world. It’s like the fun part of dating, without the actual time commitment.”

Jay looks skeptical. “Going to family events and schmoozing with distant relatives is the fun part of dating?”

You scoff. “Whatever. You’re the one who asked why I did it, and I told you. It doesn’t have to make sense to you.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m not judging, I swear. I just think that there’s probably better parts to dating, but who am I to talk,” he mutters.

“Ah, yes, Jake mentioned that, too. Bitchless all these years?”

Jay deadpans at you. “I know you aren’t making fun of me for that when you basically just told me that you fake-dated all these guys because you have a raging praise kink specifically for people’s families.”

“Oh, fuck off.” But you’re laughing, almost— giggling? Ugh. Maybe you do need to back off on the caffeine. “Alright, I have to go now, for real. Text me when Mark is good, and then we can talk about our two fake dates.”

“Isn’t three the max?”

“I was serious about not having time, Jay. I have a thesis for linguistics, and a portfolio to put together for art. Mark was going to be my last… thing this year. I went to one event with him, so if you can get things squared away with him, you can have his other two.”

“Okay, fine. Pleasure doing business with you.” Jay salutes you with two fingers.

“You haven’t even succeeded with Mark yet, and you haven’t heard what favors I want in return, either. Don’t get ahead of yourself, hotshot.”

And then you’re gone, leaving Jay to ruminate on the last hour and a half you spent together.

Jake’s right— you’re not nice, not in the traditional sense of the word. You’re kind of prickly, and you seem to run your life like a drill sergeant, but Jay thinks you must be really kind. Aside from Chan, the others you’ve helped (Mark, Yeonjun, Vernon, Sunghoon, good lord) are all variants of pretty boys who can’t talk to women to save their lives but live and die by the words of their parents, who all hope to see them get married sooner rather than later (Jay elects to ignore how he fits into that mold pretty well, too). No wonder you felt bad for them in their plights and wanted to help them; and Jay really believes that you did it to help them, not because of whatever favors you got in return. Like you said, you have money, so it’s not like you couldn’t buy your own bubble tea or pay for a driver. No, he’s seen your calendar, and it’s crammed with volunteering events in between everything else, and he’s seen the way you fuss over Riki, someone you only see a couple times a week while ordering a coffee. He’s pretty sure you’re just a classic do-gooder, and he doesn’t even need your help that badly, but he does love a challenge. Get Mark Lee together with the girl of his dreams is the first one. The second one is to figure out why he cares about proving himself to you so much— it’s not like he’s swimming in free time either, but somehow you’ve gotten under his skin, and he wants to see where this goes.

(Plus, he thinks you’re really pretty.)

When you enter your studio art workshop class, you find Yunjin immediately and pout at her. “Thanks for revealing my location to Jay, traitor,” you whine.

Yunjin grins. “It’s not like the sorority house is a state secret, babe. And I have zero regrets— he’s hot!”

“So?”

“So, I’m sick of you fake-dating these guys because you love to be the most helpful person in the room, and I want to see you actually date someone!”

You snort. “Joke’s on you, then, because he also wants to fake-date me.”

“Eugh, really? What the hell, I thought he was a good one,” Yunjin groans.

“He is a good one,” you respond instantly. You’re not sure why you’re so defensive about him, but from everything you’ve witnessed today, you know that Park Jongseong is the definition of a good guy.

“Well, maybe this will finally be the one that goes from fake-dating to real dating!” Yunjing wiggles her eyebrows at you. “You already think he’s nice, and you didn’t say he isn’t hot, either.”

“I have a pulse, Yunjin, I can tell that he’s hot.”

Yunjin whistles between her teeth. “Wait ‘til I tell Jake to tell Jay that.”

“Do not— and since when are you and my brother so close, anyways?”

She flashes you a conspiratorial wink. “New boytoy.”

“Ew, seriously? Jake?”

“Hey, it’s not that deep. He gets around, too, doesn’t he? Friends with benefits, no strings attached, etcetera.”

“Famous last words, honey.” You start pulling out your art supplies, chewing on your lip as you consider whether to ask her what you’re dying to know. “... So, what do you know about Jay? And do not tell Jake about any of this, Yunjin, I swear.”

“We’re really not close like that, babe, and I’d never betray your trust for dick.” Yunjin puts her hand over her heart solemnly.

“I want you to know that I’m throwing up in my mouth.”

“Noted.” Yunjin sticks the pencil she was using in her hair, then leans back and hums thoughtfully. “Now, Jay… I know what everyone knows about him, I guess. Good guy, nice family, kind of detached, if I had to say so? Not in a bad way, though. I just mean that he seems to hang out with his friends and that’s pretty much it. He’s involved in a bunch of stuff on campus like you are, but I know he had to pull back recently because one of his parents had a health thing— oh no, I can tell you’re already Cinderella-ing.”

You huff. “Jake is so annoying for that. What do you mean, Cinderella-ing?”

“You feel bad for him and now you want to help him!”

“I already agreed to help him, if he helps Mark Lee get a girlfriend, first.”

“Wow, he must really need your help if he’s willing to do that.”

“Funny, he said he isn’t sure if he needs my help, yet.” You shrug. “He’s confusing.”

“Oooh, but you’re interested, aren’t you?” Yunjin peers closer at you. “Oh my god, you whore! You want him!”

“Yunjin!” You shush her, cognizant of the other students around you. “I’m just curious, okay? I wanna know what I’m getting myself into.”

“Sure, sure. I believe you!” Yunjin insists, looking entirely unbelievable. “That’s not surprising about Jay, though. His family is, like, super family-oriented. Introducing them to a fake girlfriend seems like it wouldn’t go well, so it makes sense that he’s hesitant about it. You should ask him for more details when you guys fuck—”

You cut her off with a hand slapped over her mouth. “I’m going to murder you in your sleep.”

Yunjin laughs underneath your hand and flicks you off. “But seriously, the rumor is that he’s never dated anyone in college because his parents had the perfect college romance and want the same thing for him, and he’s always been too busy being the prodigal son and heir apparent for true love to just, like, fall into his lap. Despite the valiant efforts of many girls on campus,” she finishes dryly.

“That’s… a really detailed rumor.”

“Chaewon’s little is obsessed with him, so I’ve heard it a million times.”

You both cringe. Chaewon is far too nice to say it, but her little is stuck in a phase of boy mania so all-consuming it borders on clinical.

“Enough about boys; how’s it going with the portfolio?” Yunjin nudges her chin towards your empty canvas.

You sigh. “Pretty good, except for the human portrait part. It’s really not my thing, but Professor Song was so adamant that I try to include at least two of them by the end of the year. I did one of Jake already, but he doesn’t know, so it’ll be hilarious to see him cry at the senior showcase.”

“Oh, he’s totally going to lose it,” Yunjin agrees. You stay silent on the curious display of knowledge she just exhibited on your brother’s behalf. “Who are you thinking for the other one?”

“Beats me. I’d use my parents, but that feels a little bit too on the nose, especially after the one of Jake. It’d be weird to ask our friends, right?”

“Not really, but your portfolio theme is family, isn’t it? Very sweet of you to think of us as family, but then you’re talking about an entire group of people.”

Instantly, you shudder. “That’s way more than two humans. Love you guys, but no thanks. I’ll figure something else out.”

Yujin smirks at you. “If you and Jay date and fall in love and get married, you’ll be family, and then you could do one of him.”

“That is so not the solution!”

You don’t hear from Jay until a week later, at which point you figure he has given up, so you’re shocked to find him at your door again.

“Morning, Cinderella,” is all he says to you before handing you a cup.

“Good morning,” you return, too dumbfounded to say anything else. “What’s this?”

“Coffee. Large iced Americano, no water, four shots of espresso,” he recites. “I got Riki to text it to me,” he admits quickly.

“I appreciate it, but what’s this for?” You narrow your eyes at him. “You can’t possibly think that one of the favors I’ll ask from you is coffee, right? I’m not that easy, Park.”

Jay looks offended. “Hey, you let Sunghoon buy you bubble tea!”

“Yeah, but he was really pathetic about the whole fake-dating thing.”

“... Fine, I’ll give that to you. That does sound like him. But no, this is because I wanted to ask you something, and I figured I’d take up the time that you usually schedule for getting your coffee.”

“Ooookay. So, what’s up?” You start on the walk to the library, and he’s quick to fall into step beside you.

“I’ve been thinking about how to help Mark with his crush, and I have the perfect idea, but I need your help.”

“You need my help to help Mark so that you can get my help for yourself?” It sounds absurd coming out of your month, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “Wow, try saying that ten times fast.”

A surprised laugh erupts from Jay’s chest. “That was corny as hell,” he says, but he’s still laughing, high pitched and delighted. Laughter transforms his whole face, his eyes slipping into crescents and his nose scrunching with the force of his happiness, and you’re left dazed looking at him like that.

“Don’t tell anyone you witnessed that. I know where you live,” you threaten him half-heartedly. It really doesn’t carry much weight when you’re beaming in response to the mirth in his expression.

He stops laughing to grin at you, still bright and lovely. “Yeah, right. Who’s been coming to whose front door?”

“You don’t think I could walk across the street? I’m there all the time, Jay. So many people in that house owe me; it’d be a piece of cake to get your room number.” You say this with a stupid smile still on your face.

“Right, consider me properly frightened.” The wattage of his grin finally turns down a couple of notches, giving you room to breathe properly. “So, about Mark,” he starts.

“Yeah, this just sounds like more work for me,” you respond skeptically.

“Hear me out, okay? Mark has all these love songs written about this girl, and I found out that she always eats lunch at the same table at the same time in the dining hall on Tuesdays, so I figured he could play one of his songs over the dining hall speakers and then confess to her.” Jay makes little jazz hands at the end of his sentence, and it prompts a giggle out of you.

You have to fight your smile down when you speak. “A couple of things. One: that is so incredibly over the top for a confession, but sure, I like your spirit. Two: there’s no way Mark is slick enough to pull this off. Which leads me to three: what do you need from me?”

Jay nods. “Exactly, Mark could never do this on his own, which is why I’ve enlisted a bunch of guys from the frat, and you, of course.”

“Me, of course?”

“Sunoo and Jake are going to sweet-talk the lady at the dining hall who has the keys to the staff office with the dining hall audio hookup and microphone— she loves Sunoo, and Jake will flash her the ol’ puppy dog eyes to keep her sufficiently distracted. Heeseung will walk past and swipe her keys, and Jungwon is going to make sure that Mark’s crush is actually in the dining hall at the right time. Chan is going to apologize on everyone’s behalf if this goes wrong.”

You tut. “Poor Chan.”

“It’s his presidential duty, god bless.”

“And where do I fit into this?”

“You and I need to hold Mark’s hand, figuratively, and keep him hyped up enough to actually go through with it. He agreed to the plan, but I can totally see him chickening out again, which is why Sunghoon and Yeonjun are also going to stand guard outside the staff office so he can’t escape.”

“I feel like you could hold Mark’s hand on your own,” you argue, but you don’t really mean it. This sounds so chaotic and harebrained that you would normally want to stay a mile away from it, but Jay’s enthusiasm and seriousness about it is rubbing off on you. Plus, it would be nice to see one of your fake boyfriends actually succeed in their love life.

“He has two hands, and I can’t hold them all by myself because I have to operate the audio hookup,” Jay proclaims solemnly. “And I said figuratively! He trusts you, clearly, or at least he trusted you enough to be his fake girlfriend.”

“I come highly recommended,” you intone dryly.

“And he trusts me enough to go along with the plan, so I think we’re the best suited to be his moral support,” Jay continues, ignoring your smartass comment.

“This is a ridiculous plan, Jay.”

“So you’re in? Oh, wait. Are you free at 12:30 today?”

You stop to check your planner and confirm that you are. “What would you have done if I wasn’t?”

“Reconfigure the time-space continuum so you could be in two places at once. Mark’s future happiness depends on this,” Jay insists.

"I see what you mean about getting overly invested in challenges really easily… Alright, text me where I should meet you later, then?”

“You got it. Have a good day, Cinderella!” He yells this part as he jogs away from you.

“Stop calling me that!” But you can’t remember the last time you smiled this much this early in the morning.

Hours later, you smile instinctively upon seeing Jay’s name pop up in your notifications.

jay: coast is clear. meet me outside the dining hall staff office in 5 minutes. operation is a go

you: omw, 007

jay: stop ur making me blush

you: fr?

jay: no this is just banter

you: omfg mark just texted me to say that ur actually blushing

jay: im going to end him. after he gets a gf, ofc

“Hey,” you whisper in Jay’s ear, making him jump.

“Holy shit, how’d you get here so fast?”

You shrug, jostling his shoulder as you’re pressed up against him in the tiny recessed alcove across from the staff office. “I’m a fast walker. Places to be, people to see, you know? Speaking of…” You motion to the open office door. “Should we go inside?”

Jay clears his throat. Up this close, he can count the eyelashes that flutter against your skin. “Yeah, Mark’s already there. I’m surprised he found the composure to pop his head out and see me, or text you, honestly. He’s been a nervous wreck since this morning. Oh, finally, way to be on time, losers!” Jay beckons Sunghoon and Yeonjun closer from down the hall.

“We’re fine; Jungwon says Mark’s crush hasn’t even sat down at her table, yet. Hey, how are you? Long time no see.” Yeonjun flashes you a smile.

“Committing questionable acts in the name of love, you know, just living the dream,” you joke. “How’s your mom?”

“Great! She still asks about you. By the way, if I had known being a little more pathetic would get me this level of commitment,” Yeonjun gestures around him, “I would’ve asked for a real girlfriend, too.”

“I’m told I was pretty pathetic, and even I didn’t get this kind of treatment,” Sunghoon reminds you.

You pat his arm consolingly. “Maybe if you had Jay on your side, buddy.”

“Yeah, what the hell, best friend?” Sunghoon eyes him accusingly.

Jay pats his other arm. “Sorry, I have ulterior motives with Mark.”

“Oh, so now Mark gets a girlfriend and a secret male lover?”

Jay scoffs. “Not those kinds of ulterior motives, but please. As if Mark could bag me.”

“Ladies, ladies, there’s plenty of Jay to go around,” you say placatingly.

“Guys, I’m freaking out in here!” Mark wails from inside the office.

“Fuck, Jungwon said she’s sitting down now. Go!” Yeonjun pushes you and Jay towards the office.

In quick order, Jay gets the audio hooked up to Mark’s laptop, and he starts the song. While Mark hyperventilates between the two of you and you actually do share in the holding of his hands, Jay finds himself staring at you as you try to encourage Mark. You really are quite kind— he doesn’t think many people would have agreed to be dragged into this silly scheme, but here you are, throwing yourself into it wholeheartedly because there’s a chance it might secure Mark’s future happiness.

The sun reaches its highest point in the sky just then, streaming in through the windows behind you and drenching you in golden light. Jay’s not sure if he’s nervous about getting in trouble for this or if he’s just been looking at you for too long, but he can feel his heart stuttering in his chest. It’s positively outrageous how pretty you are.

“Bro, what the fuck do I say?” Mark hisses, interrupting Jay’s very important investigation of the color of your eyes. “The song is almost over, please, you gotta help me!”

“Just tell her how you feel,” Jay offers. It’s not his best attempt at advice, but he’s distracted by the way your hair brushes against your neck.

Mark splutters and fumbles and curses under his breath, but then the song is over, and Jay is turning on the microphone for him to speak. “Um, hey, so, yeah! Yeah. Uh, I’ve liked you for a long time… which you can probably tell, because of the song and everything.” Mark giggles nervously. “There’s, like, at least five more where that came from. Because I like you a lot, but I’m not great at talking in person, so I wrote all these songs, and oh god, this is super weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry if it’s weird, I just, well, I wanted to tell you. What I feel for you is so big I think I might explode; it makes me lose my mind and my breath and my ability to speak, and it leads me to do stupid stuff like this. And now you know. Okay, cool!” Mark reaches over and slams his hand to turn off the microphone.

You and Jay share an exasperated look over Mark’s head.

“Mark, you didn’t even say who the song is for,” you remind him.

He pales. “I didn’t?”

“Or who it’s from, but I think that part is pretty obvious,” Jay sighs. “Just text her right now, and tell her it was from you, and ask her out!”

“What? No, I can’t do that, I think I’m gonna be sick,” Mark moans.

You roll your eyes. “Mark, do it right now, or I’m telling your mom you cheated on me.”

“What? But I didn’t! And we weren’t even dating for real! And I just told her we broke up!”

“Right, I’ll say we broke up because you cheated on me.” You stare him down. “Seriously, I’ll call her tonight.”

“Nonono, I’ll text Mina, okay? See, I’m texting her right now.” Mark pulls out his phone and types frantically.

Jay throws his arm around Mark’s shoulder, using the leverage to hit the send button on his phone. “See, that wasn’t so hard!”

“I need to go walk into traffic,” Mark declares.

You smile breezily at him. “Sure, whatever. Love conquers all!” Behind his back, you and Jay high-five.

Jay says you should have dinner to celebrate Mark and Mina’s new romance (ignoring Mark’s pained “What romance? I’m dying.”), but you tell him that you’re volunteering at the community kitchen that night. Jay doesn’t miss a beat. “Sure, I’ll be there. We should talk about my thing, anyways.”

That’s how he finds himself in a hairnet and disposable gloves that night, making funny faces at the head of the community kitchen’s daughter, who’s running around underfoot. He’s been put in charge of chopping vegetables, while you’re stirring a huge pot of stew at one of the stoves.

“Watch your fingers,” you scold him half-heartedly. He’s devastatingly cute like this.

He has the audacity to wink at you. “I know my way around a kitchen, don’t worry.”

“Very cool, trophy husband.”

“What, no more 007?”

“Depends on the outcome of Mark’s text to Mina. Did you hear anything from him?”

Jay scoops up his vegetables into a large bowl and brings it over to you, nudging you aside with his hip so he can add the vegetables to your pot. “Not yet, but I don’t have him freaking out in my messages either, so I’ll take that as a win.”

You let him take over the stirring and turn around to lean against the countertop. “Cute hairnet,” you quip.

“Thanks. You think they’ll let me take it home?” he jokes.

You nudge your chin in the direction of the little girl giggling at Jay. “I think she wants to take you home.”

He winks at her, then lowers his voice so that only you can hear him say, “She’ll have to get in line.”

You swallow and wonder if the stove is turned on too high. “Right, so what’s your thing about?”

“Later, yeah?” Jay gestures around you, and you suddenly remember that you’re in the middle of a busy kitchen, with everyone hustling to get ready for the dinner service starting in half an hour.

You spring into action again, embarrassed at how easily you’d been absorbed into conversation with Jay. Something about the way he talks to you makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world— he’s always so attentive, nodding and responding to your every comment. You have to wonder why he hasn’t dated anyone seriously in college; he seems like he’d be the dream boyfriend. Hypothetically.

He only proves this point further when he reveals two containers of mac and cheese that he had picked up before getting there, which he microwaves for the two of you to eat after the dinner service is over. You turn on the lights in one corner of the cafeteria and sit at the only table that’s still left out: a children’s table where you have to balance precariously on seats that are too small for you. But it’s entirely worth it, knocking knees and elbows together, laughing too hard for what the situation warrants.

“I would’ve made you something myself, but I didn’t want to use up the kitchen’s ingredients,” Jay comments off-handedly.

Your heart glows in your chest. “That’s really thoughtful, Jay.”

He smiles and scratches the back of his head, suddenly shy. “Nah, it’s common sense, right? Come on, eat before it gets cold.”

Right then and there, Jay learns that he loves to watch you eat. You make exaggerated faces and ooh and ahh over something as simple as mac and cheese from the 24-hour diner down the street, and he finds himself itching to make something with his own two hands that will make you react like that.

When you’re done eating, you sit back and sigh in satisfaction. “That was exactly what I needed. Now, tell me about your thing— what kind of mess have I gotten myself into?”

Jay hems and haws for a good minute before finally telling you about his parents’ upcoming 50th wedding anniversary. “It’s a little complicated because they had this, like, fairytale relationship, and of course I’m happy that they’re still so in love all these years later, but it’s kind of… a lot to live up to. Not that I’m complaining, because they’re awesome, but I don’t have that kind of relationship with anyone yet, so I haven’t brought anyone home to them.”

“So the rumors are true,” you mutter under your breath.

Unfortunately, Jay seems to have heard you. “What rumors?”

Flushing, you explain what you’d heard from Yunjin, who had heard it from Chaewon’s little. You’re quick to add, “I wasn’t asking around about you or anything!”

Jay just smirks at you, something wicked and slow that only contributes to the heat in your cheeks. “I didn’t say anything.”

You hesitate before speaking up again. “So, if you don’t mind me asking… How come you haven’t dated anyone long-term in college? You’re, you know, perfectly okay to look at.”

Jay deadpans at you. “Wow, thanks, that really means a lot to me.”

You let out a huff of a laugh. “Shut up, it’s not a secret that you’re hot.”

Jay’s eyebrows shoot up, and you swear to god, he blushes to high heaven. “Th-Thanks.”

“Mm.”

It’s silent for a few long moments, then Jay clears his throat. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t dated anyone long-term in college because my parent’s relationship is a lot to live up to, and it’s not like I have a ton of time to find my perfect life partner in between everything else.”

“Ugh, tell me about it. Yunjin tells me I should try actually dating again, but it’s kind of a lot, right? Putting in the time and effort to get to know someone from scratch, when you’re not even sure how it’s going to pan out? And you’ve seen my calendar.” You laugh quietly. “And, honestly, I have this problem with dating where I get bored pretty easily.”

Jay leans forward, pushing into your personal space close enough to count your eyelashes, again. “Are you bored right now?”

“No,” you answer, although you’re not sure why he’s asking. “Um, so, why do you need a fake girlfriend, then? I don’t think it’ll pass muster with your parents, if they want you to be in love for real.”

Jay fidgets with his fingers on top of the table. “Yeah, it’s kind of stupid, to be honest. My dad was hospitalized for a month last year, and it really shook us all. My parents are on the older side, and I’m their only child, and, well, I’d like to make them happy while they’re still around. Sorry, that was morbid. And I know it’s not like we’d be doing this forever, and it’s wrong to fake it, but still. They’d be overjoyed to see me in a relationship. I want to give that to them, even if it’s only twice.” He tells it to you like it’s a secret, and your chest caves in with the force of his sincerity.

“I don’t think that’s stupid. It’s sweet, Jay, really.” You reach out and still his fingers. “Listen, you know I’m really good at being a fake girlfriend, right?”

“You come highly recommended,” he mimics you from earlier, mouth quirking up in the beginnings of a smile. It lifts the atmosphere slightly, and you’re glad for it.

“Right, so don’t worry. Leave it to me. Your parents won’t suspect a thing,” you promise. “When’s the anniversary celebration?”

“Six weeks.”

You pull out your planner to start scheduling. “Great, so you can send me information about yourself, and I’ll do the same for you, and then we can find time to meet up and quiz each other about it and get our answers on our relationship straight—”

Jay’s hand lands around your wrist, stopping you from writing further. “Not that I don’t appreciate your… efficiency, but I don’t think that’s going to work. Like you said, my parents want to see a true relationship, and I don’t think flashcards are going to cut it. How about we just… get to know each other?”

You blink. “What, like daily one-on-ones, or something? Office hours, but just for each other?”

He bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re serious, aren’t you?” He lets go of your wrist to hide his face behind his hands as he continues to laugh, which makes you smile despite yourself. He’s so goddamn cute.

You decide to humor him. “What do you suggest, then?”

“As much as I would love to monopolize your time, I don’t actually want to take up any of the precious few free spots on your calendar. You need to set aside more time for yourself, by the way. But for now, how about you give me the thirty minutes you schedule for getting to Nat’s and then back to campus every day? We can get to know each other then.”

“You want to walk me to the coffee shop and back?”

“Among other things.”

“… Such as?”

“Just you wait, Cinderella. I’m going to sweep you off your feet so hard, you won’t know what hit you. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

In the dim light of the after-hours cafeteria, with his long legs stretched out on either side of yours and the soft crescents of his smiling eyes twinkling at you, you’re inclined to believe him.

Jay keeps his word. He shows up on the sorority house’s porch every morning, backpack slung over his shoulder and hands in his pockets at 7:45am. He doesn’t even have class until 11am (you know because you asked Yunjin to ask Jake), so his dedication impresses you. Sometimes, you’ll watch him approach the house from your window, bopping his head along to whatever he’s listening to in his earbuds.

When you open the door to greet him, he always smiles sleepily at you and reaches out to grab whatever’s in your hands (usually art supplies or heavy reference books for your thesis). It’s a small gesture, but it shoots through your cotton-candy-soft heart as true and straight as an arrow.

Most mornings, the two of you will chat about anything and everything, swinging from homework to Greek life drama to pet peeves to Mesopotamian history. Occasionally, you’re both tired from your busy schedules and just end up sharing his earbuds, listening to something slow and soothing. More and more often, you find yourself stuffing supplies and books into your backpack until it’s grossly misshapen, just so Jay can have his hands free to brush against yours on the walk to Nat’s.

It’s not just the coffee shop, either. Suddenly, he’s everywhere in your life, as if someone had penciled in his name as one long continuous block in your calendar. He comes to the library with you, and you work on your assignments in companionable silence. He’s now a regular volunteer at the community kitchen, and he’s helping them design a new menu for the colder days coming soon. He even shows up outside the studio art workshop, bringing you takeout when you’ve forgotten to eat. At parties, the two of you dominate beer pong, with him bouncing balls off of his bicep into the cups just to make you fake your fawning adoration at him. He doesn’t have to know that it comes easily to you, especially when he’s constantly looking at you the way you know you look at beautiful works of art.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were actually courting me,” you comment thoughtlessly one day. You’re perched on the kitchen counter at the frat, watching Jay make ramen for the two of you. It’s almost three in the morning, and neither of you should be awake, but there’s something special about the quiet privacy afforded by the strange hour.

Jay forces himself to keep stirring the pot like usual. If he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t know any better, either, but he doesn’t want to look too closely into that at the moment. Instead, he opts to flirt. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, that’s why I said it, smartass.” But you let him off the hook, now preoccupied with reaching over to re-tie his apron.

“Ooh, ramen!” Jungwon’s face lights up as he walks into the kitchen, led by his nose. He looks like he just woke up, rubbing at his eyes with the ends of his sweatshirt sleeves. You have to stop yourself from cooing at him.

“What are you doing up so late?” Jay scolds him gently.

“Oh, hey, Dad. Hey, Mom. I just woke up; I had a weird dream.” Jungwon nods at you both and takes a seat at the kitchen island.

You gape at him. “What?”

Jungwon blinks a couple of times, looking more alert by the second. “Oops. Did I say that out loud? Sorry, Niki’s been rubbing off on me.”

“Niki calls us Mom and Dad?” You’re not sure if that’s sweet or weird.

“As a joke! In a jocular manner. Jovially.” Jungwon throws up a peace sign, as if that helps.

“I’m glad to see the English degree is paying off,” Jay remarks dryly. He looks like he took the Mom-and-Dad thing much more in stride, except for the tips of his ears, which burn red. It’s a dead giveaway that makes you smile fondly, because it’s so him.

“Will you make some more ramen?” Jungwon bats his eyelashes at the two of you.

“See, it works much better when Jungwon does it,” you tease Jay.

“Can’t argue with you there, honestly.” Jay puts another pot of water on the stove to boil. “You should have more than just sodium and carbs, though,” he tells Jungwon.

You nod, hopping off of the counter to rummage through the fridge. “Yeah, you don’t eat enough vegetables. Maybe that’s why you’re having weird dreams. Aha!” You emerge triumphantly with a salad kit.

Jungwon laughs. “And you wonder why Niki calls you Mom and Dad.”

Jay scoffs. “That’s just because he hasn’t met Chan.”

“Fair enough. What are you guys doing here so late, anyways?”

You pause in assembling the salad to point a salad tong at Jay. “This guy just follows me everywhere.”

“We’re in my frat house,” Jay retorts.

“I could be here for someone else,” you argue.

Jay’s gaze pins you down, warm and earnest. “You’re not, though.”

You smile at him. “No, I’m not.”

Jungwon coughs. “Get a room.”

You reach over to ruffle his hair. “You’re standing in it.”

The three of you eat your ramen and salad in silence for a bit, all falling victim to varying degrees of sleepiness. Without noticing it, you’re scooched up next to Jay, shoulders and knees and ankles pressed together in one long line of comfortable intimacy.

Jay thinks about Jungwon’s question as he slurps at the noodles. What are you guys doing here so late? The answer almost eludes him. These days, he finds himself drawn to you like a magnet, pulled in by forces far stronger than himself.

He remembers that the two of you had been doing work in his room after the main library had closed, and you had fallen asleep on his bed at some point, a sketchbook dangling from your fingers. He had spent a ridiculous amount of time admiring your sleeping form, indulging in his favorite pastime of counting your eyelashes and resisting the urge to lay beside you. Eventually, your stomach had woken you up, and he insisted on making you some food, even if it wasn’t as nice as he would have liked to do for you. Now, looking at you chatting and joking with Jungwon, Jay feels his heart expanding into his lungs. You fit into his life so perfectly, and he’d like to think that he fits into yours, too. It’s almost too good to be true— could this be what his parents started with?

When you’re done eating, Jungwon waves the two of you away, insisting that he should do the dishes since you cooked. You’re not about to argue with that, so you pat him on the shoulder before following Jay back up to his room.

“He’s a good kid,” you tell Jay as you hop on his bed again, grabbing your sketchbook to pick up where you left off.

“He is.” Jay tuts at you. “And you should go to sleep.”

“I will, I will, just let me finish this sketch, okay? Besides, I don’t see you turning your laptop off, either.” You jut your chin out stubbornly.

Jay glances at the Wikipedia rabbit hole he’d been going down before your stomach had growled loudly an hour ago. He’s done with his work for the day, and he had just been keeping you company for the last two hours. “I have super important, time-sensitive work to finish,” he lies solemnly.

“Jay, I can see that you have the Wikipedia page for sinkholes open.”

He slams his laptop shut. “Actually, I’m done,” he declares, flopping down on the bed beside you. He turns his cheek from where he’s level with your stomach to look up at your hands moving across the page. “What are you working on in there?”

You make a displeased face. “People. I have to do one more human portrait for my portfolio, and it’s driving me nuts. Here, this one is of you.”

Jay lifts his head, astonished to see himself reflected back on the page. In smooth, sure strokes, you’ve captured him in tender detail: strong jaw, sharp eyes, and mouth twisted in concentration, probably from earlier when he’d actually been doing work. Jay’s jaw works as he struggles to figure out what to say. He’s unbelievably touched that you would draw him. “Can I keep this?” he asks finally.

“It’s not even done yet. And it’s not that good,” you warn him.

“It is to me. C’mon, please?”

“Maybe when I finish…” You trail off, swayed by the senseless patterns he’s tracing on top of your knee. “Which I won’t, if you keep distracting me.”

He smirks and stills his hand, looking like he’s about to tease you before he interrupts himself with a yawn. “Alright, goodnight, Cinderella.”

“'Night, 007.”

When he wakes up the next morning, he finds the lingering scent of your shampoo and a complete sketch of himself, now decked out in a tux worthy of James Bond. It makes him laugh out loud, and he knows he’s in trouble when he slides out a picture of him with his cousins from a picture frame to put your sketch in the frame, instead.

Before you know it, the day of the Parks’ wedding anniversary celebration has arrived. You’re on a four-way FaceTime call, with Chaewon lounging on your bed as you try on various dresses.

Kazuha is more invested in asking you about your relationship than helping you decide what to wear. “I’m just saying, I think it’s interesting that you and Jay have been, like, glued together for well over a month.”

“We’re getting to know each other better, so we don’t mess up in front of his parents,” you explain for the millionth time.

Kazuha wiggles her eyebrows at you. “Suuuure. Why didn’t you just send him one of those scarily detailed questionnaires like you did with all the other guys you fake-dated?”

Chaewon motions for you to spin in the billowy dress you’re currently in. “Too beachy,” she decides. “But ditto to what Kazuha said.”

“It’s because she like-likes him,” Sakura sing-songs.

You stick your tongue out at her. “Grow up, will you?”

“Forget about that— have you guys hooked up yet?” Yunjin demands.

“Yet? No, Yunjin, what the fuck,” you complain.

“Gross,” a familiar voice groans from Yunjin’s corner of the FaceTime. You, Kazuha, Sakura, and Chaewon all zero in on her square.

“Jake?” You exclaim.

Yunjin giggles and moves the camera to show Jake sitting at his desk in his room, wearing his nerdy glasses and hunched over a textbook.

“Did you guys just hook up?” Kazuha blurts out.

“Gross,” you repeat.

Yunjin rolls her eyes. “Grow up, will you? And no, I’m just here because it was too loud at the house.”

The rest of you fall silent on the call, especially you and Chaewon, demonstrating how decidedly not loud it is in the sorority house.

Yunjin blushes and clears her throat. “Whatever. Hey, you should totally wear that sparkly navy velvet number! The one that cinches at your waist.”

You rummage around in your closet and pull out the dress in question to try it on. “This one?”

Sakura whistles. “Oh, for sure. Good eye, Jen.”

Yunjin blows her a kiss. “Of course, of course.” She points at you. “That’s the one, babe. You have, like, the sluttiest waist ever, second only to Sunghoon; you have to wear that.”

Sounds of agreement abound, except from Jake, who whines, “You guys don’t think I have a slutty waist?”

“You’re a whore in other ways, don’t worry,” you reassure him dryly. You do another spin for Chaewon. “This isn’t too much, though?”

Jake suddenly pops into view of the camera. “It’s a formal event, and Jay is going to lose his mind no matter what you wear, trust me.”

“That’s not the point,” you insist.

The girls respond in unison, “Yes, it is!”

And you have to admit, the way Jay’s mouth stays open as he gives you the once-over a few hours later is gratifying, to say the least. For good measure, he does it again, letting his eyes linger at the dip between your collarbones and the curve of your mouth.

Molten heat spreads through you in response to his wandering eyes, ratcheting up in intensity when he smirks at you, purposeful and knowing.

You elect to check him out, too, knowing that you’re not the only person who can get flustered here. He cuts an unbelievable figure against the setting sun, leaning against his sleek black car, hands in his pockets and legs crossed at the ankles. The tuxedo he wears fits criminally well, emphasizing his broad shoulders and long legs, and you can’t stop yourself from wondering what he’d look like taking his tie off. On second thought, this may have backfired; you only find yourself feeling warmer the longer you stare at him.

Thankfully, he starts moving, coming up to the porch to hand you a bouquet of baby’s breath.

“Oh, good idea— should I hand these to your mom or your dad?” You ask, taking the flowers from him.

He laughs, surprised. You are too cute for his own good. “The flowers are for you, Cinderella. My parents and I are allergic to pollen, actually.”

“Oh.” You hold the flowers closer to your chest, giddiness touching you from head to toe. He got you flowers, even though he’s allergic. “Thank you, Jay.”

He hums and reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Happy to do it. I saw the flowers in your room dying the other day. Go put them inside; I’ll wait out here. I can feel Chaewon’s stare drilling into the top of my head, anyways.” He looks up and waves at Chaewon, who’s hanging out of your window shamelessly.

She shouts, “Have her home by midnight, or she’ll turn into a pumpkin!”

“I don’t think that’s how it goes, but okay!” He throws her a thumbs-up.

Inside the house, you’re seized with the urge to splash some water on your face, just to calm yourself down, but that would ruin your makeup. Instead, you place the flowers in a vase of water and trust that Chaewon will bring them up to your room for you, after she’s done heckling Jay.

“Leave my guy alone,” you yell in her direction, pulling at his arm to get him down the stairs and to his car.

“Your guy, huh?” Jay looks at you with uncontrollable fondness.

“Just for the night,” you say, but you don’t miss the way his smile widens at the way you don’t deny it.

Ever the gentleman, Jay opens the passenger door for you, helping you gather the ends of your dress and tucking them in under your legs. He remains crouched for a moment, looking like he’s debating with himself about something, and then he goes for it, leaning over and buckling you in.

When you raise an eyebrow at him, all he says is, “Precious cargo,” and then he’s shutting the door, leaving you flushing once more.

The car ride to his parent’s place is easy and comfortable, even with the charged atmosphere that lingers between the two of you. Conversation always flows like water with Jay; you’re debating the finer points of how to determine provenance for historical artifacts when you arrive. Guests are littered across the front lawn, conversing with each other but centered around his parents.

Suddenly, you’re nervous. “Do you think they’ll like me?” You ask Jay.

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Are you serious? Of course they will. You’re you.”

You swat at his shoulder even as you smile widely. “Your unconditional faith in me notwithstanding, I’m serious, Jay. I want to be able to live up to this fairytale romance thing.”

He takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Believe me, you’re a dream come true. Let’s go, Cinderella.”

You gulp and curse your thundering heart, but then you’re five feet away from his parents, and you’re exclaiming at how in love they look, all these years later. Jay’s dad is distinguished in salt-and-pepper hair, and his mom is all smiles when she tells you that you’re too pretty for Jay.

“Mom,” he whines.

“Oh alright, come here, my beautiful boy.” She brings him in for a hug and beams when he kisses her cheek. Your heart melts like ice cream in the summer; he’s a mama’s boy, through and through.

Jay’s dad asks, “So, how did you meet?”

You open your mouth, prepared with your story. “I’m Jay’s friend’s twin sister, and then we kind of got caught in a scheme to help one of our other friends ask out the girl he liked, and we just got closer after that. Jay’s easy to like.” So far, it’s all true.

Jay doesn’t look like he’s faking anything when he continues, though. “She’s easy to love.”

“Way to one-up me,” you joke, but you feel like you’re floating, cradled by the buoyancy of the affection in his eyes.

“Seriously, she’s so smart it makes my head spin, and her heart shines brighter than the sun. She makes me laugh and work harder to keep up, and I’m lucky to just stand by her side. Being with her is the most natural thing in the world, like breathing, or my heart beating.” Jay doesn’t take his eyes off of you the whole time he’s speaking; he wants to commit every change in your expression to memory, from surprise to fondness to something deeper.

Jay’s dad hums approvingly. “Good work, son. You sound like I did when I met your mom.” He brings his wife in to kiss her temple.

“Enjoy the party, lovebirds,” she coos at you, and then they’re gone, off to greet other arrivals.

You’re frozen in place, with one hand still clutching at Jay’s like a lifeline. “We didn’t practice that,” you mumble.

He shakes his head and rubs his thumb over your cheek with his other hand. “No, we didn’t. Are you mad?”

“Mad? I think I’m jealous of your future girlfriend,” you say, forcing a laugh. It sounds wooden even to your ears.

He frowns. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act as if you don’t know how much I like you.”

The world stops turning on its axis. “What?”

His gaze slips down to your mouth, tracing your cupid’s bow. “You heard me.” He turns hopeful eyes on you. “Do you… feel the same?”

Just like that, the world resumes its motion, and you can’t let him go a second longer without knowing how much he is loved. “Desperately.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, and you think he’s going to kiss you— you need him to kiss you— but he hugs you close instead, lips hovering against your ear. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he murmurs.

“If it’s anything close to how happy I am, I probably have a good idea,” you laugh. You’re surprised at how quickly the burning urge to have his mouth on yours has tempered into something more grounded and permanent.

“I have to go do something for my parents, but I think I’ll die if I have to leave you. Will you come watch?”

You’d go anywhere with him. “Of course.”

He squeezes your hand. “Thanks, doll.” Against your will, your hand spasms in his. He giggles, delighted. “Duly noted.”

“Shut up,” you complain, but you follow him all the way to the tented dance floor set up on the grounds behind the house, only letting go after he kisses each of your fingertips in turn.

You’re surprised to see him pull out an eight-string guitar, and even more surprised when he explains to the gathered crowd that he’ll be playing the song from his parents’ first dance. They look perfect, swaying in the center of the floor, but you only have eyes for Jay.

You watch as his fingers pluck deftly at the strings, a romantic Spanish melody that barely reaches your ears over the rush of all your adoration for him. As soon as the song is over, he catches you in his arms, lifting you up and spinning you around twice before setting you back down, hands at home around your waist.

He asks if you want to dance. You teeter back on your heels, looking at the graceful curve of his mouth and thinking back to the nimbleness of his fingers. “Honestly? I want to kiss you. Really badly.”

He exhales and holds you tighter. “You won’t let me take you out first?”

“If you count the last few weeks, you’ve taken me out, like, a million times.”

“But a real date, doll. I want to cook for you, and we can get tea lights, and a picnic blanket, and— god.” Jay sucks in a sharp breath when you move his hands higher to cup underneath your chest. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he sighs, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I hope so. Stop being so nice, and take me to your room, please?”

Jay’s eyes flick heavenward. There’s only so much self-restraint left in him. “You win.”

And when he finally kisses you, pressed up against the door of his childhood bedroom, you nearly cry from how tender it is. He kisses you slowly, reverently, like you’re one of the saints from his history books.

“Sometimes, I think I’ve dreamt you up,” you confess to him. The words hang precious and delicate in the space between your lips.

“Let me show you I’m real then, yeah?” He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then licks right into you, eliciting a gasp from the back of your throat. Your fingers find purchase in the soft hair at the back of his head, and you realize that you’ve been breathing the wrong air your whole life; the groan that passes from his mouth to yours is the only thing you want in your lungs from now on.

Liquid desire pools in your stomach, rising until you think you might choke on it. “Jay, please.”

“Please, what? Use your words, doll.”

“Touch me.”

That’s all he needs to hear. Quicker than you realize it, but just as urgently as you need it, you find yourself laid out on his bed, and then he’s demonstrating that he knows more than just how to play guitar with those thick fingers.

When you make it out of his room an hour later, you’re still glowing with happiness. Jay knows he looks equally lovestruck, not least because his collar is hiding several lipstick stains from you.

You offer to help him redo his tie, so he anchors you unnecessarily close to him, hands sweeping up and down your side. “I don’t think I told you yet, but you look really nice tonight,” he murmurs. “You look really nice all the time, actually.”

You bury your face in his chest. “I’m going to explode if you keep sweet-talking me like that.”

He presses his smile to the top of your head. “Nooooo, you’re too pretty to explode.”

“Jay!” But you’re both laughing, bathed in the soft magic of newfound devotion. You couldn’t dream up anything better.

(Dating Jay is a lot like fake-dating Jay, as it turns out. In some ways.

In other ways, Jay still manages to take your breath away with new and inventive methods. He really does make you dinner, with tea lights and a picnic blanket, ensconced in the twilight of a park you drive an hour away to get to. He even makes foie gras torchon for the occasion, from scratch, and he watches you intently as you moan in delight at the taste. You joke about your breath being fishy when you kiss later, but he just shrugs, unbothered and already moving so that his head disappears underneath your dress, making you moan in a different way.

So, yes— there’s a lot more kissing, and sex, and intimacy that makes you want to curl up in a ball and hiss at how vulnerable it makes you. But Jay is always welcome in the prickly patches of your soul, and he wants those parts of you as much as he wants the parts of you that paint him in aching affection.

When he finally tells you he loves you that winter— in so many words, because it shows in his every action otherwise—, it’s three in the morning again, and your hands are fluttering across his brow, smoothing out the creases from a night of worrying about whether he’s really good enough to take over the family business. Your fingers, lovely and dear to him, stitch together the cracks in his self-resolve, and he can’t help but let the words out. His heart absolutely sings when you repeat the words back to him.

Some time later, you ask him to sit for a portrait for you. He doesn’t think too much of it, especially as the seasons bleed into one another and spring brings an influx of senior events, pollen, and the impending question of the future. He’s at your senior thesis, asking you detailed questions during the audience Q&A and wrapping you up in the biggest hug when it’s over, and you sit in on the final class he TAs, applauding when he’s done.

At the showcase of your final portfolio, his jaw drops when you reveal the second portrait (after having laughed his ass off at Jake blubbering over the first one and Yunjin kissing him in public to shut him up).

The second portrait is of him, and his parents. From his dad’s strong brows, to his mom’s smile lines, to his own hands; every detail is captured, shimmering in loving light.

He finds that his eyes are wet when you come up to him and brush your thumb against his eyelashes, smiling brightly at him. “Do you like it?”

“I love it. I love you, so much, like crazy, you don’t even know,” he rambles, laughing through his tears now.

You kiss him quickly but firmly, just a reminder that your mouth was made to fit against his. “Love you more, London boy. Speaking of…” You lean back to stare at him through your eyelashes. “I got the Rhodes,” you whisper.

His eyes widen like saucers. “You’re coming with me?”

“More like you’re coming with me,” you say, knowing that Jay had requested to be placed at his family business’s England location to be close to you in the event that you got the scholarship.

“Obviously,” he relents without missing a beat. “I’m going to follow you everywhere. Can’t get rid of me now.” He dips his head to kiss you longer. Lightning still shoots through his fingertips, just like the first time, and every time after that.

At graduation, you tell him, “You know, I think I’ve decided what I want your favor to be.”

He smiles at you, familiar and true. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Just love me, for a long, long time.”

“Easy, Cinderella.”)

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luci-in-the-stars · 8 months

Text

TIMING : A few days before the start of the school semester

LOCATION: Milo's apartment PARTIES: @escudofracturado & @luci-in-the-stars

SUMMARY: Luci goes to let Milo know she moved to Wicked's Rest to start school, shocking him because she's supposed to be going to Brown. It's a nightmare!

CONTENT WARNINGS: Sibling death, Self Harm, Domestic Abuse, Suicidal ideation, Suicide (attempts mentioned), vague transphobia mentioned.

Luci wasn’t often good at emotions. She didn’t really care much about them, and if she couldn’t understand where they came from she was more frustrated than anything else. She needed reasons and emotions very rarely had tangible ones. Usually she didn’t bother considering them.

So standing there in front of her brother's door made her pause as a sickening feeling came over her that she didn’t have words for. She felt something in her stomach fall while she was still standing still. It made her want to run away, avoid this place and she couldn’t place why immediately.

After all it was Milo, not someone dangerous. She shouldn’t feel anything so negative - so anxiety producing - when it came to him. He was her brother not a creature in the night or someone to make her life miserable. He’d never even yelled at Luci really, so why was she shaking? Why did she want to cry?

Then it struck her that she was scared he was going to push her away again. For some reason she had done something so wrong that he was going to leave her again. It was dread she was feeling and she didn’t want to write down that observation at all. She wanted to walk away - but she couldn’t. Stuck in this looming doom Luci didn’t know what to do.

So, while standing in front of the door she couldn’t seem to knock or walk away for a moment, until she felt a nagging voice in the back of her mind to not be a coward. Clenching her jaw for a second, Luci let out a breath she wasn’t aware she steeled herself and knocked on the door trying to keep a neutral face, hurriedly moving her glasses up to have some sort of motion that wasn’t writing down her thoughts.

“Hi, Milo. Can I come in?” Luci said her voice unusually quiet and with a slight waver notably only glancing over to her brother.

—

Milo didn’t know what he’d been expecting to see when he opened the door. His bet would’ve been on maybe a delivery person, a package of some sort, but certainly not his baby sister.

He’d had a dream like this before, but this felt too real, everything was too detailed for it to be a dream. His usual dreams were too hazy, too wavery, like there was a bad signal and one wrong move would make you lose your connection. This wasn’t the vague image of a person who he just somehow knew was his sister, this was actually his sister standing in front of him, and the sight of her made him perk up for a second before he began to really process it.

Luci was here.

“Luz?” It was practically an exhalation. All the air had been knocked out of him the moment he realized it was her. For a moment, he could only stare dumbly at her, eyes wide as he tried to breathe through the feeling of panic rising in his chest. Luci was here.

A million questions tried to come out all at once as Milo fought to keep his fear and anxiety in check. He needed to shove it down before it could come pouring out like the stream of nonsense he was stuttering out. “What– How are you– Why– Are you okay??? How did you… What?” Luci was in Wicked’s Rest. She wanted to come in. He could not lose control.

"You shouldn't–" Fuck. He felt like he might throw up. But as he really looked at his sister, he noticed the tense way she held herself, the way she was shaking ever so slightly, the pained expression on her face. And his stomach fell as some of the fear gave way to concern and an overwhelming amount of guilt and shame that left him feeling hollowed out.

He was the biggest piece of shit in existence, and he was absolutely going to hell. But he wordlessly stepped aside, holding the door open to allow her in.

—

Luci wasn’t quite sure what to expect, something that couldn’t help but make her uneasy. Before he left - before everything had crumbled down - she could tell you exactly what he would do. She would have ducked under his arm and told him about her latest experiment, her hair slightly singed or her hands covered with ink stains. He would have laughed or sighed or done something she would have categorized and she would have felt immediately at home.

Instead she stood there frozen for a moment wanting not to perceive what was happening her hands instead tapping at her bag. He had questions, and she had the answers to them - but they went so quickly past her Luci didn’t want to answer them let alone breathe.

He started to tell her to go away - that’s the only thing she really could take that she shouldn’t - she shouldn’t be there. It made her snap back in some ways, Luci’s jaw twitching shut for a moment. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear obviously, she wanted to hear that there had been a reason and then an explanation of that reason, but it was something she was prepared for. Glancing at him she almost said something, until he moved to let her in.

It made her pause, again a shift in what she expected, before quietly moving to go into the apartment, her hands now gripping at her bag. “Thank you,” she said quietly, realizing she didn’t exactly know where she was going, now paused in the hallway again uncharacteristically unsure.

“I don’t know where to go,” Luci continued, leaving the questions in the air looking towards Milo to help. “I - am sorry to surprise you, but I figured this was the most likely to make sure - I would have called.”

___

It all felt wrong. It was wrong, just as it had been for months. He should’ve been at work at the center or at home in his apartment with his friends, Luci should’ve been getting ready to go off to college, Genevieve should’ve been there.

But their older sister was dead, and he was at fault. Their older sister was dead, and being in New York without her had made him want to die. Their older sister was dead, and he had abandoned Luci at home because he couldn’t hurt her, too. Their older sister was dead, and Milo was terrified his younger sister would be next.

Every slight change in her face or her body language felt like someone was taking an axe to his chest. He had hurt her. Of course, he had hurt her. The guilt was always there, just underneath the surface, a constant weight on his soul that threatened to pull him under at any moment. But, it was better than the alternative. It was better that Luci hate him for the rest of their lives than to risk losing her, too. He certainly deserved that much, and he already hated himself so goddamn much anyway. The only reason he was still breathing was because life was a joke, and he was such a miserable fucking failure that he couldn’t even succeed at trying to kill himself. Again. Maybe the third time would actually be the charm, but he didn’t have it in him to try only to fail again. Not now.

Had she tracked him down to tell him what a piece of shit he was? It felt unlikely coming from Luci, even if it was what he deserved. She didn’t look mad, though, didn’t look at him with the same hatred he saw in the mirror, in his own eyes. She just looked small, sad. The same way she’d looked when they were kids and their parents started fighting.

There had been a point in his life, even before he’d really come to understand the situation they’d grown up in, and all the damage and hurt their parents had inflicted upon all of them, where Milo had sworn he would never be like their father. But here he was, with his little sister looking at him nearly the same way she’d looked at their dad as she said a meek ‘thank you’ and walked inside. And it hurt him so incredibly deeply that he was surprised his chest didn’t start weeping blood right then and there. It hurt so badly that he wanted to pull out the razor blades and do it himself.

“You don’t– you don’t have to apologize,” he said. His voice felt far away, words falling out of his mouth purely on autopilot because he sure as fuck wasn’t thinking them through whatsoever– his head was too foggy for that. “Is everything okay?” Glancing over her, she seemed fine, physically. Had something happened? After a moment, he turned, threading his hands through his hair and grasping on tightly, as if he could somehow manage to hold his mind together that way. “Luci, what are you doing here?”

His sister was in Wicked’s Rest, and not only could Milo not protect her from the town’s many dangers, but being around him actively put her in more danger. This was so beyond bad. The only thing keeping the situation from imploding on the spot was his inability to handle the amount of emotions that suddenly came flooding out. His mind had shut the fuck down like a shitty failsafe protocol, trying in vain to keep the floodwaters at bay.

—

The way that Milo considered her made Luci feel more like an apparition than a person in the moment, her eyes glancing around to find bits of a life that she’d been forcibly removed from. She wondered briefly who was living with Milo, bits and pieces not matching him. She wanted to ask, but part of her felt it was intrusive seeing as he was staring at her like she was a phantom. Something that haunted him, that seemed to pull out emotions she couldn’t quite place, but someone who wasn’t real anymore.

Still, she wasn’t a ghost. She wasn’t haunting him and it was better for her to be shocking and suddenly real again then pretend that she wasn’t here. She existed, and she took up space. Luci interacted with the world, and in turn it responded to her. She wasn’t a figment or something abstract. She was real and she was going to respond.

“I don’t need to, no,” Luci said, nodding slightly considering the words. After all, she wasn’t really sorry for showing up suddenly. It was her right to do so, like it was Milo’s right to run away. She got to make decisions so after taking a breath she tried to shake the nerves she wasn’t good at handling and looked at him what she hoped was normally but knowing that she probably still looked nervous.

At the question Luci wished she’d asked one first. She didn’t like the question because it implied a lot of different things. Was she okay? It depended on what he meant by that. Her magic was failing, she was burning things and causing small calamities wherever she went. That probably wasn’t okay, but that wasn’t something she wanted to tell him at the moment. After all, that had to have been the reason that he ran right? He had to have figured out she’d lost control - what other reason was there to leave suddenly. Not much else made sense. So with the little bit of the false confidence she borrowed from observing other people in her grade she raised her shoulders a little bit and stopped fiddling and said, “Yes. I’m perfectly fine. I have all ten fingers and ten toes - and no added ones either.”

As he moved to look away from her though, her false arrogance deflated somewhat as she tried to follow what he was doing. Luci hadn’t expected him to act so differently and then suddenly - another question she was hesitant to answer.

“I - go to school here, and the semester started,” Luci almost mumbled, glancing back at the door. Whatever confidence that she had that she could handle what Milo said or did seemed to be crumbling down around her again. “I came to see you before classes started. I figured we could hang out - or you know. I just wanted to say hi.” She stumbled over her last statement realizing that it probably sounded lame. She’d tried to work shop it - even said it in the mirror of the hotel she rented waiting for the dorms to open - but it never came out particularly confident.

“I figured you would want to know if I was in town,” Luci said, finally deciding that she was probably lame and should have waited a while more. Maybe she would have made a better ghost.

—

There was such sorrow in her eyes, but he could also see a spark of something else underneath it as she looked back at him– likely anger. Even if she didn’t really look it, she had to be mad at him. How couldn’t she be? She knew she shouldn’t be apologizing to her piece of shit brother, and she straightened as she continued speaking, answering his question.

No added ones, either. Half-breathing, half-choking, a strangled laugh escaped from his mouth at the statement. It caught him off guard and it was so very Luci that it just sucker punched him in the guts. There was a swelling of energy, the air between the two siblings suddenly feeling charged, a calm before the storm. Clutching at his hair, Milo forced himself to breathe until the current seemed to dissipate. But the calm didn’t last very long.

“You, what?” He spun around to face her. “I thought you– Weren’t you– What about Brown?!” She’d been accepted to the Ivy League. Had it been a financial matter? He didn’t know, but he could feel himself hanging on by a thread. She should leave. He should tell her to leave. Wait, she was going to school in Wicked’s Rest?!

—

Luci blinked as she saw Milo for a moment more like the one in her memory, always surprised somehow with something that she said. It almost made her relax to hear him laugh except - when she focused it didn’t really sound like a laugh though, it sounded like a breakdown. Something was wrong.

Something was wrong again, and no one told her. She swallowed that feeling keeping that thought in her mind to write down later before she was startled again suddenly face to face with Milo. Part of her was suddenly afraid again, but she squashed it down before it could settle on her phase. She didn’t need to be afraid of her brother. She wouldn’t be afraid of him.

Instead, she paused looking at him for a moment before tilting her head as she tried to take in what was happening. It wouldn't react badly, instead reaching into her bag to pull out her welcome packet to show him, tilting it so he could see the oddly comforting cow creature. “I didn’t accept Brown’s offer,” She said with a shrug. “I wanted to go here, so I accepted the offer. Isn’t the mascot cute? Her name is Bessie.”

It was a bit more complicated than that, and she could feel the unasked questions on her as she looked at the little cow mascot she was oddly attached to before looking back up at him. “Tia said it was fine.” That was at least true, while their mother didn’t really seem to care either way, she had at least seemed to acknowledge that it was her choice was was just happy she was still going to college. In fact, she seemed a bit happy Luci had made a choice. It wasn’t often that she did without consideration from other people. After all it was Gen who - Luci decided not to finish the thought and instead looked at Milo.

“Milo, breathe please,” Luci said calmly, not quite sure why it was upsetting him this much, and part of her nervous it was because of her. That she had done something that had made her so awful to be around that she couldn’t exist in the same town as him.

Maybe it’s because she wasn’t reliable, and couldn’t help at all. Maybe even now he though she wasn’t useful or good to be around. Swallowing the fear she said softly, “I did get scholarships here too. I-I’m not going to need any help or anything like that. You don’t have to change your life here, I promise. I’m not trying to butt in.” The sound of her voice almost made Luci wince at how pitiful it sounded but she just muscled through it.

____

There was no way this was just a coincidence. He had never heard the name Wicked’s Rest until he went searching for a way to fix his magic, and he’d never heard Luci mention anything about schools in Maine. Granted, he hadn’t been able to keep up with all the college application talk, but still. Why would she come to this random small town in Maine just to go to a state school? No, this couldn’t be a coincidence, it was his fault. Milo had left, and he’d hurt her, so she had come to find him. This was his fault. Because of him, Genevieve no longer had any future, and Luci had made a decision that would negatively impact hers. She’d turned down an Ivy League, for fuck’s sake.

If there were a way he could not just die, but, like, cease to have ever existed, that’d be cool. His sisters could be alive and happy and together, while he could just not be anything or do anything ever again. If he could make it happen, he would in a heartbeat.

She was right, he needed to breathe. He needed to breathe, and he needed to stay calm. He could not lose control.

But she sounded so small, and so timid. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. He should tell her to leave, but she needed to understand. “Luci, this town is really dangerous. You shouldn’t–” He could feel the fear, panic, worry, hurt, rising in his throat. He forced himself to breathe again. “You should leave before you get hurt.”

The thought of her staying here, living amongst the monsters and mayhem, facing off against nightmarish creatures and beings that he thought only existed in the world of fiction, it was all too much. “Please, Luz… I can’t–” I can’t lose you, too. He couldn’t force the words out, instead the thought just lingered in his mind, echoing over and over. As it bounced around his head, he could feel the thread snapping, could feel the wall between himself and his mess of emotions beginning to crumble, beginning to let in the murky floodwaters.

Even as his vision went blurry with tears, his eyes widened as he felt that familiar buzz under his skin. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! It was building fast, he could feel it crackling in his palms. He spoke quickly, tone urgent even as his voice trembled. “Luci, you need to leave rig–”

Too late.

Magic surged through him, exploding outward in a flash of blue that he barely saw through the tears pouring out of his eyes. He was unable to do anything before it began to circle him, phantom brambles beginning to form all over his body, twining around his limbs, his torso, his neck. Milo could feel them poking into his skin, sturdy, holding him tight as if they were solid wood.

—

There was something that Luci didn’t know, she could feel it in the air and part of that infuriated her. While there were things she couldn’t know, secrets the stars were hardly ever going to give up for the small alchemist, it didn’t make her less upset that they wouldn’t. She studied laws and rules that were supposed to be firm, so why did it seem like they kept bending to punish her now.

Why did her brother not seem to want her around any more? Why didn’t Gen trust her at all? Why did everything keep falling around on Luci and why wasn’t she apparently allowed to know why?

“Everywhere can be dangerous,” Luci said, sounding more like a petulant child than she normally did, annoyed that she was being told what to do again, her cheeks feeling warm with what she perceived as chastisement. “I’m not leaving. I’m moving into my dorm tomorrow, actually. I’m not going to get hurt.”

Whatever annoyance she had faded from her face as she saw Milo’s panic get worse. Her eyes darting around to see that something wasn’t right. Whatever he was worried about was making him - “Milo - Milo calm down,” She said softly, the magic looking too familiar for her own comfort, her eyes not wide with unknown fear but something known. “I’m not - Milo please breathe.”

She couldn’t help the scream, as her automatic response was to hit the wall behind her getting away from the shocking blue, her hands dropping her folder as she raised them over her face again waiting for an impact. Still, instead of feeling the heat she had imagined being there there wasn’t anything which she wasn’t expecting. Last time a spell - she was pretty sure Milo had put on her had kept the heat away, and she shouldn’t have that on herself anymore. Shaking for a moment she tried to breathe before looking out of her hands and being struck for a moment.

“M-Milo what’s going on. Why is your magic acting like -,” Luz managed to close her mouth before she continued that specific thought not wanting to worry him more. Cautiously she moved off the wall slowly trying not to startle him as she decided she needed to do something.

“Calm down, or I’m going to have to try and dissipate this,” Luci said softly, moving towards him not flinching away from the sparks, her voice becoming more clinical than she usually held with Milo. “I know you don’t want to see me and you probably don’t like me, but you need to focus right here right now. Because I can’t leave you like this, and you know that. So if you want me out so badly, calm down.” It sounded harsh, but it had to be at least closer to the truth. “Look at me and breathe. Just trust me for a moment please.”

___

She was arguing with him. She didn’t understand, she didn’t know about all the monsters, all the creatures, the crystals, the deaths and disappearances. If he really gave enough of a shit about his own wellbeing, he wouldn’t still be here. If she understood, she probably wouldn’t want him here either. Or, at least, she wouldn’t have before he ruined everything. Because, truly, that’s what he’d done, it was what he was good at– ruining every single thing he touched.

He ruined his relationship, ruined his friendships, ruined his life, his sister’s future, his magic. Genevieve was dead and it was his. Fucking. Fault. Luci screamed, and for a moment his heart stopped. For a moment, all he heard was Genevieve, the way she’d yelled just as everything was ruined forever. Milo couldn’t breathe, couldn’t catch his breath, wasn’t sure his heart was working. “Luci?!” The spectral vines tightened around him, seeming to pulse in time with his erratic heartbeat.

But then she got up, started speaking, and his heart restarted. He heaved a massive sigh of relief, the movement making the dull thorns dig into his skin. He was overcome with such a feeling of relief that nothing had happened that he almost felt lightheaded. For a moment he could breathe a little more easily, the vines loosening slightly.

Of course, it couldn’t last. After the relief came the guilt and pure panic at the thought of just how poorly that could’ve ended, of how, for a moment, he had thought his worst nightmare was coming true. Even through the fabric of his clothes, the thorns dug into his ruined skin, the rows of lines, all in various stages of healing, some whitened, fading with time, some puffy and red and brand new. Milo wished it did anything to take away from the giant, aching wound that used to be his chest, but, shocker, it really didn’t.

She can not see the scars, she’d be so upset. But she shouldn’t be, not after what I did. She wouldn’t if she knew. Wait, …did she know? What if that was why she was here? She knows what you did, she just wants you to admit it. Luci hates you and you deserve it– I deserve it. The vines should just fucking suffocate me and be done with it. You’re a waste of fucking space. They’d all be better off anyway. His legs gave out, and while the vines kept him upright, he still slumped further onto the brambles, the thorns digging into his skin in a way that teetered past the point of uncomfortable and straight into painful. Still, it couldn't compare to the ache inside.

Milo had sworn he would never be like his father. However, deep down, he had already known the fact of the matter– he was his father’s son, his unwanted son, no less. He had that darkness within him, that fire, that destructive anger that turned everything in its wake to ash. And most of the time he could keep it in check, keep it turned inward rather than outwards, but he’d always been scared of this. Maybe his magic wasn’t even broken, maybe this was just him, his curse to bear. What if all along he was always just this fire, this destruction, this desolation, this chaos? He wasn’t even supposed to be capable of it, as steeped in his studies into the protective arts as he was, but it didn’t matter, did it? It was him.

Luci was talking. It took him a minute to pull himself out of the firestorm of his mind, another just to calm down enough to actually process what she was saying. I know you don’t want to see me and you probably don’t like me. His entire being pulsed with an ache that he wished would manifest as something physical. There was a black hole where his heart should be. She thought this was her fault. She thought he hated her. “Luz, no,” he choked out. “I don’t– No– ‘S my fault– Not–” Milo didn’t even know what he was saying, he just needed her to understand. It was him. “Love you– ‘M so sorry–”

—

It was horrific, and part of her wanted to scream again when she saw what his magic was doing. It felt like something she wasn’t supposed to see, like her aunt crying at Gen’s funeral. It just didn’t make sense. It didn’t click, that something so scary could have been done.

It wasn’t how it was supposed to go either. He was supposed to be a little mad that his kid sister followed him, but begrudgingly let her back in. She was supposed to gently ask what happened and get some answers. They were supposed to work together on the mystery of what was going on - and Luci was going to help him. She had planned it out, and that was the most likely scenario.

So why was she now looking at something that seemed to be hurting her brother that came from himself. Why wasn’t he trying to move away from it, instead sinking into vines? She didn’t understand and part of her wanted to cry and call - but she wouldn’t pick up anymore. Luci was going to have to try and talk through this, and she’d never figured out how to say the right words to calm Milo down. There was an ache that she decided she was going to figure out later, instead focusing on what he was trying to say moving closer to him.

“I don’t care,” she said, trying to look at where the vines were coming from. Where she could pull to get them off of her brother. “I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care who’s fault it was what- What you’re hiding from me. Let me help you.” Luci said, trying to find out a solution and suddenly having an idea - that Gen would have hated.

Taking a breath, Luci’s hand went firmly onto Milo’s shoulder moving to try to get under the vines, not flinching as she felt bits of pain instead trying to free him. To get him to stand up and not just let them grow.If he wasn’t going to do it for his own sake, she was going to have to force him too.

“Milo stop letting them grow on you, or I’m going to have to -. Please breathe with me and stand up.” Luci looked at him in the eyes for a moment trying to find the words Gen would have used and coming up with nothing. She was going to have to do it her own way, “If you don’t I’m going to either pull these vines off of you myself or try a circle to transfer them, and I think both of them are going to make you upset so please calm down.” It was a threat, she wasn’t sure she could back up but he had to know that she was going to at least try.

“Please. I just found you again,” Luci said softly, more akin to a confession than anything else, her focus now on trying to keep her hand under the vines that seemed to want to push her away moving her other hand to the other shoulder flinching when it she felt the prick that time, “I love you too, and you are not leaving me like this.”

___

Milo couldn’t help but think of that Mitski lyric as the tears he’d been holding back ran down his face. Lately, I've been crying like a tall child. He was sobbing like he was a kid again, trying to catch his breath, taking in shallow gasps of air. The dull thorns dug into his abdomen at every shuddering sob, every attempt at filling his aching lungs.

He was having a full on menty b in front of his little sister, it was pathetic. He was freaking her out, and she shouldn’t have to deal with it at all. But still she was trying to calm him down, trying to wiggle her hand under the magical brambles and pull them off of him. It made him the void ache, but there was a warmth to it, too. The tears kept falling, but he was gaining a little more clarity, focusing on Luci, how as much as he didn’t deserve her, she was there anyway. ow if Gen were here she would help calm him down before gently tearing him a new one for this.

He croaked out a laugh at her threat, mouth pulling up into a watery smile in spite of himself. Her next words helped pull him together, wound not entirely closing, but made much more manageable. I love you too, and you are not leaving me like this. He needed to get it together for her. There was nothing to be done about the crying, though. If anything, he was just crying harder now, the pain just replaced by his sorrow, his love and concern for his sister. He had to do it for her.

So, he nodded, and focused on his breath like he had learned in therapy. Deep breaths, in and out, incredibly shaky at first, but slowly they evened out. As they did, the vines began to loosen more and more until they finally dissipated. He just barely managed to keep himself from collapsing onto the floor, but he did, he forced himself to as he pulled his sister into a hug. It made his breath hitch and his eyes water, so he breathed through it, pulling back after a moment.

He didn’t know what to say. What could he say after that, after everything? “Sorry,” he managed. “I’m– I’m sorry.” For all of it. There were a few attempts at other sentences, but he felt the tears welling up, the lump in his throat grow when he tried. “Are– Are you okay? Your hands?” None had actually pierced his skin, it seemed, only leaving deep red indents on his skin that left him wondering if they would bruise, and a few cuts that he could feel had reopened on his thighs. Thankfully his sweats were black and would hide any blood from Luci’s eyes– Luci who had been trying to pry them off of him. He really hoped she hadn’t managed to hurt herself in the process.

—

Luci wasn’t sure what else to do trying to get her hands under the vines seemed like her best option then trying to talk. She wasn’t good at words - or rather she wasn’t good at the type of words people wanted to hear when they were sad. It wasn’t something that she mastered, and most of the time if she was being honest she couldn’t care enough to bother with it. After all, actions spoke louder than words most of the time right? Maybe she couldn’t talk about it, but she could try and remove them.

She couldn’t be Genevieve. She didn’t want to be her sister as much as she loved her, she knew that those shoes were too big to fill. Her words wouldn’t be as soothing as hers were. So instead she waited a breath to hear if he was going to try and help her get these off of him, or if she was going to try her admittedly terribly executed threat. Hearing a - what she could only assume was a laugh - she wasn’t sure how to respond for a moment.

Then, slowly the vines seemed to loosen around him as he started breathing evenly. She was too scared to say anything, to do anything other than watch and still try to move the vines, worried that her words would be wrong again. She’d make the vines come back somehow and he wouldn’t listen to her again.

Suddenly though, she was being pulled into a hug to a still shaking Milo and for a moment Luci broke a little burying her head into his shoulder ignoring the way her glasses poked at her face as she did so. For a moment she was five again not knowing what to say and just desperately wanting the noise to go away, and knowing that while he couldn’t stop it Milo would at least keep it away for a little.

Then he pulled away, and Luci tried to right her face, her hand going up to her glasses knowing that she must look like a mess. She’d tried very hard to be put together, and show that she was an adult now and all of her things were everywhere and she’d made her brother cry. Again. For things she wasn’t quite sure she understood. Again.

Clearing her throat she said, “It’s okay. Oh - uh - no, they're fine. Just bruised. Not too bad.” Luci said realizing that the pain she’d thought was sharp wasn’t. She’d been so concerned that they were hurting him that she hadn’t realized they were dulled. They probably wouldn’t have even bruised her if she hadn’t jammed her hands under the vines. Still, she didn’t want him looking closer - the burns on her arms may not have been as bad as they could have been, but there were still marks. So she looked to make sure her sleeves were down before showing him her hands. “It’s okay, see? But you should probably sit down. Can we go sit down? I’ll clean up here.”

____

Luci had never been the most physically affectionate of the De La Vega siblings, so the fact that she leaned into the hug surprised him a little, caused a few more tears to escape from his eyes. He just let them fall, though, not wanting to let go quite yet. The ache in his chest no longer felt so heavy. Now it was more of a balloon lifting him up rather than an anchor dragging him down.

After a few moments and a quick squeeze, Milo released her. There was a pitiful, apologetic smile on his face as he wiped at his eyes and runny nose. Luci looked upset, and it made the guilt swell up, however, he quickly pushed it away. His self loathing could wait, she was standing in front of him right then.

He frowned at the red marks on her hands– his fault– but she was right, it wasn’t anything too bad, thank god. “Sorry.” It was barely audible, more of an exhalation than anything else. It had been a reckless move on her part, but he would’ve done the same if it had been her tangled up in magical restraints. Plus, what was he going to do? Chastise her? Make her feel like shit for trying to help? Make this situation even more tense? Make her hate him? No. No, he wouldn’t– couldn’t. He didn’t even have the energy for it if he wanted to.

Speaking of his nonexistent energy levels, he really wasn’t sure he would be able to hold himself upright for much longer. “Yeah, let’s sit.” What little energy he did have left was going toward holding himself together, not letting Luci see him for the small, pathetic, guilty child he really was. Waving off her attempts at picking up after him, Milo nodded toward the nearby couch. “Just leave it, Luz, I’ll get it later.”

He practically collapsed onto the sofa, but still, he made sure to leave enough space for his sister to sit. There was also another seat– he would definitely understand if she didn’t want to be seated next to him right now.

—

“Not your fault. I’m the one who decided to put my hands underneath brambles,” Luci said softly, mostly to herself. After all, she’d gotten her own hands bruised doing something admittedly futile. If he was being fair, he should have scolded her but maybe both of them were too tired for things that should happen. She didn’t really like how all of this ended up and just wanted to calm down.

Even though he had said to leave it, Luci still reached down to carefully move her papers back into the folder and put it into her bag not willing to leave them scattered and knowing that he was probably too tired to help her later. Still, it hadn’t taken her long before she moved towards the- now observing more of the place where lived - after him. It seemed nice, and she had about a million questions she wanted to ask him and knew that he was probably not going to answer any of them.

So Luci moved towards the couch plopping down next to him in an exaggerated sigh and sat for a moment looking at Milo. Part of her wanted to smile that he was there, but most of her was still shaken about everything that had just happened. So after considering it for a moment she said matter of factly, “You know - I had a powerpoint presentation for you and now I don’t think either of us are really going to be able to pay proper attention. So I am going to have to come back to give that to you.” She was trying at least, to act normal although admittedly she wasn’t sure what response she was going to get. “So you better not move again without telling me. Or its just going to get longer.”

—

Not your fault.

But it was. If he hadn’t freaked out, there wouldn’t have been brambles. If he hadn’t left like he did, maybe she would be at Brown instead of the town from hell. If Genevieve were alive. If he hadn’t asked her for her. If he had left the damn stone alone. It was all his fault. If his attempt had– He pushed the thought away.

Of course, she didn’t leave it for later, so Milo went over to help, handing her a bundle of papers as well as picking up something that seemed to have fallen in the midst of the ruckus. Then, he slumped into the couch cushions, feeling absolutely drained. He had sustained those brambles for a bit, hadn’t he? It’d been a while since he’d done anything quite so strenuous– well, aside from the caves, at least.

He didn’t know what to expect from Luci. She was planning on going to school here in Wicked’s Rest, she had come here looking for him, she possibly thought he was mad at her??? What the hell was he supposed to say to her? Milo couldn’t look her in the eyes and tell her that Genevieve’s death had been his fault, he just couldn’t. It made him the world’s biggest coward, the worst human being on the planet, but he just could not do it. He couldn’t handle it, couldn’t face her reaction, the hatred and disgust and disappointment in her eyes. He could barely live with himself now, but having Luci look at him, see him for the monster, the ruinous thing that he really was? That would utterly destroy him. It was what he deserved, but, at his core, he truly was his father’s son– a spineless, selfish man.

So he stayed quiet, leaving his sister to break the silence.

And he promptly snorted, a grin spreading over his face even as more tears began to well up because goddammit Luci. “Okay,” he agreed. Then, again, much more softly, “okay.” Milo knew that he could spend the rest of his life apologizing and trying to make it up to her, and it still wouldn’t be enough. But he was still going to try. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he apologized again. “I’m really sorry, Luz.”

—

Luci huffed slightly when he didn’t just sit down, but decided that the fight was better left unsaid. There were a lot of things left unsaid between the two of them. While she didn’t know everything - she knew that it was bad. Something bad was happening, but - well they were still here. For the moment that was going to have to be enough.

Still, her mouth did tilt up to see the grin go over his face even if she had to ignore the tears that seemed to suggest that he was still in a private war he wasn’t going to share with her. It seemed that maybe the rift wasn’t unsurmountable between the two of them even if he had seemed to want to make it that way. Unlike before, Luci wouldn’t let that happen again.

Leaning back on the couch Luci sighed and said, “I know. You’ve said. I’m not sure about what for or why, but I know you’re sorry. I forgive you. Whatever it is, I forgive you okay? So stop ignoring me.” She wasn’t exactly what for, but there wasn’t anything that she wouldn’t have forgiven him for so she decided it was alright to say. As long as he stayed this time she would forgive him. “I was bluffing though - I probably won’t make you sit through a powerpoint. Still, don’t leave okay? ” Her voice wobbled a little at the end although she was hoping that would be ignored.

—

Milo hadn’t seen her smile in months. Seeing it almost broke through the dam that he was trying to put back into place. He couldn’t start to break down again, though, not in front of her. So, he shoved a hand in his pocket, pressed down through the fabric onto the wounds that had reopened, finding some clarity in the sting.

He watched her lean back, listened as she brushed off his apologies. Of course, she could say she forgave him now, but she didn’t know what he’d done. The comment about ignoring her made his heart fall, though. His immediate instinct was to apologize, but he bit back on the words. “For leaving,” he replied instead. His eyes stung as he, at least partially, explained the ‘why’ and ‘what for.’ “And ignoring you. And I’ll sit through your powerpoint, if you want,” he gave her a small smile. “I know you probably put a lot of work into it. Can’t let that go to waste.”

If he were a stronger man, Milo would be able to do whatever was necessary to keep Luci safe. But he wasn’t strong, the crack in her voice striking him like a bolt of lightning. He couldn’t say no, couldn’t hurt her again, couldn’t stand leaving her for another time. And he certainly couldn’t just leave her if she was really going to stay here in Wicked’s Rest. While he was entirely useless now, he was still her brother, he still had to try to protect her. He had tried when the monsters were only in closets and under beds. Now that they were real and deadly and here, he would not leave her to face them alone.

“Okay,” Milo agreed quietly. As he spoke, he thought of Cass and of Mack’s party, of that night at the death pit. “I promise.”

He knew that sooner or later, Luci was going to find out, that she was going to see him for what he truly was. Sooner or later, she would realize that he was a monster, too. But until then, he supposed he would try.

#sibling death tw #self harm tw #domestic abuse tw #suicidal ideation tw #Suicide tw #transphobia tw #call me when you have the time; milo #para: Milo #a dangerous disposition; para #Banner was done by Ang and is beautiful #angst was provided by both but! it's gonna be okay :)#this thread is heavy so please be careful.

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