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mrchiipchrome · 6 months

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Blessing In Disguise

W.C. - 1.8 k

This was originally a song request, if you want to request then there's a prompt list linked in my masterlist.

prompt 30. -Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.

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Signing for a new club is supposed to be fun, exciting and sometimes even scary. For you, all those emotions were robbed from you by a girl who’d decided to break your heart.

The relationship hadn’t been going on for long, only a couple of months, but in that short period of time you had managed to fall for the girl completely. The girl who’d only gotten with you for shits and giggles.

So there you stood, taking pictures in the red Arsenal kit, all while trying not to cry. ‘Stupid, stupid people. Stupid, stupid me.’ You think, biting your cheek lightly as the photographer calls for you to do another pose.

‘Olaf and puppies, just keep thinking about Olaf and puppies.’ You have to keep from snorting at your own thoughts, the children’s character always turning your frown upside down.

“YES! That’s it, there’s that smile!” The shouted words startle you slightly, but what startles you even more is the Irish accent that accompanies them. You hadn’t even noticed anyone else sneaking into the room.

“Katie! How’d you get in?” The American accent of the photographer contrasts the harsh Dublin of one Katie McCabe.

“Through the door” She pauses in the middle of her sentence to roll her eyes overenthusiastically. “I wanted to meet the newbie before anyone else” She nearly shouts, sticking her hand out for you to shake.

As soon as you grasp it, she pulls your much taller frame into her own. Her strong arms wrap around your waist, your left arm wrapping around her shoulders reluctantly.

She pulls away from the embrace nearly as quickly as she started it, leaving you to strangely enough, miss her touch.

“You are much taller than you look in the pictures!” The signature smile she flashes you has your knees weakening slightly, butterflies fluttering their wings inside you in a completely different way than it had for that girl.

This time it was more than just attraction, you could sense that she was a genuine person.

“What d’ya mean?” Katie feels her heart flutter at the furrow in your brow, heart eyes forming despite having met officially only moments before.

“I’ve seen pictures of ya, you look short” You send the multi positional player a playful glare, the woman herself having to tilt her head up to look you in the eye.

“Sure I do Mickey, sure I do.” Now it’s her turn to look confused, the nickname something entirely new to her.

“Mickey? Where’d you get that from?” Her accent continues to play with your heart, if a heart monitor had been connected to you then it would show a clear spike in heart rate.

“I guess you’ll just have to figure it out because I won’t tell you Mickey.” Out of your peripherals you can see the photographer giving up.

“Girls, if you could both face me for a second so that we can get a decent photo” Mr. Photographer calls out sassily, tapping his foot against the floor in wait. When Katie looks you in the eye, you both have to keep from laughter.

Turning towards the man, Katie slips her arm back around your waist while you place your arm around her shoulders. Your other hand makes the motion of pointing at her, the Irish woman smiling brightly.

After a few clicks of the camera, Mr. Photographer lets you start to pack up, ready to go back to your hotel.

“You want a ride home?” With your back to her, you don’t notice Katie’s intense gaze settled on your back. Her eyes scan the entirety of your backside, getting stuck on your ass for a few seconds too long.

“See anything you like Mickey?” The teasing tone tells her that you’re joking, still she can’t help but let the blush take over her face.

“Sooo, do you need a ride home?” She questions once again, looking on as you ponder for a second.

“Yeah sure, if it’s not too much trouble.” Humming, the Irish woman lets you lead the way out of the room before walking shoulder to shoulder with you.

The drive back to your temporary home was uneventful, the two of you talking about the club and your expectations. The way she waves at you when you step out of the car makes you all giddy.

Surprisingly, the only thing you can think about when you settle into your bed later that night is the Ireland captain. It’s like she turned your world upside down with one simple look into your eyes.

Your phone buzzes beside you on the bedside table, Mr. Photographer having sent a text with all the photos from the day for you to post.

Thankfully, the announcement of your arrival to the club had been made earlier, so you didn’t have to worry about that.

Still, you pick your phone up and scroll through the photographs he sent you, finding the best one of you and Katie together.

You can’t help but giggle as you type out the caption to the instagram story, the picture of Katie barely reaching your shoulder is hilarious in its simplicity.

‘Taller than I look, right Mickey?’ You typed before tagging her and posting it. Oh how you already love the team dynamics.

——-

“You dick!” The soft smile on your face turned into a full fledged smirk, Katie’s loud voice booming all throughout the hallway.

Before you can comprehend what’s happening, Katie jumps on your back, her momentum bringing you both down to the floor.

You can’t help but groan at the impact, your ribs feeling slightly bruised. On top of that, you still have Katie sitting on your back, laughing like a madman.

Turning around with her still on top of you, you’re able to relish in the way Katie’s eyes widen slightly before going back to normal.

Soon enough, Katie herself starts to smirk at the suggestive position you’ve found yourselves in. Her hands creep up to settle on your stomach, muscles contracting under her.

The clearing of someone’s throat interrupts you two, you trying to scramble up from the ground with a weight pinning you to the floor.

When you realize that Katie isn’t getting off of you, you decide to take drastic measures.

Placing your hands on her waist, you lift her off your body without much struggle. After that you pull yourself up from the floor, offering the Irish woman a hand to pull herself up with.

“I thought you needed to hit the weights.” Katie’s hand comes up to squeeze your bicep, you flexing it for her.

“I do Mickey, maybe we can go together sometime?” Now your hand is up at your neck, rubbing it nervously.

“RIGHT move it along people, we’ve got training in 5 minutes. You two can flirt later.” Lotte calls out playfully, one of her hands on either of your backs pushing you forward.

Your face is overtaken by a dark blush, Lotte exposing you.

“Yeah, yeah Lots, you’re just mad that your boyfriend’s away” Katie responds rather snarkily, shooting you an over the top wink.

———-

Week by week passes at the club. The happiness that you once missed out on was now present every second of every day.

There was one thing that laid at the back of your mind though, nagging and eating away at your conscience.

You’re in love with Katie, your absolute best friend.

She’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a girl. She’s funny and kind, she’s great with your parents and your siblings. Not to mention that she’s incredibly attractive.

It’s impossible not to fall for her.

Funnily enough, it was just as hard for her not to fall for you. You two were supposed to be friends, not lovers, and yet that’s exactly what you were becoming.

Less than friendly kisses shared behind closed doors, cuddling on the bus and at home, texting whenever you’re apart. She would even steal your clothes, taking your trousers after spending the night together and leaving her own. Yeah, going into training that day wasn’t fun.

It wasn’t official or anything, you were both just enjoying each other’s company.

Well that is until your ex decides to contact you again, despite being blocked.

——

“Micks, could you bring me a glass of water?” Katie moves around your kitchen with ease, already splitting her time between her own flat and yours.

You hear her hum and then the splashing of the water meeting your sink. The movie you’re watching is paused, the two of you cuddling whilst watching it.

Just as you can hear Katie’s sock clad feet moving back towards the living room, your phone buzzes on the table. Picking it up absentmindedly, an unknown number flashes across your screen.

Pressing accept on the call, you can soon hear the obnoxious voice of your ex-girlfriend screaming.

Pulling the phone away from your ear, Katie looks at you curiously.

“Y/n I wanna get back together!” The slightly intoxicated girl screams at you.

“No. Emilia, I told you never to contact me again so don’t.” Speaking firmly into the phone, you can see Katie’s eyes harden in recognition. She did know of your ex after all.

“I was wrong. Take me back.” She drags out every syllable, slurring her words simultaneously.

“I’d rather let a tractor drive over my foot.”

“But I’m perfect for you” Katie’s hand comes down to take the phone from your grasp, prying it out of your fingers.

“Are ya now?” Her usual playfulness is gone, voice stone cold.

“Who are you?” Emilia’s shrill voice cuts into both of your eardrums, Katie looking at you in confusion.

How could you date that? She whispers to you, laughing a little when you shrug.

“Her girlfriend, you intolerable shit. If you contact her again I won’t hesitate to knock your teeth out.” Her low, threatening tone did something to you. She raised a single eyebrow at your Arsenal red face, making you blush that much harder.

Just as Katie’s about to hang up, you take it from her hand.

“Emilia, you breaking up with me was truly a blessing in disguise, it brought me the love of my life. Have a great life.” After that, you hang up and throw the phone to the edge of the couch.

Settling on top of the Irish captain again, she starts to run her hand through your hair. The action makes you melt into her body, a content smile forming on your face.

“So I’m the love of your life?” The sharp Irish accent cuts through the air, teasing zing to her words.

“So I’m your girlfriend?” You counter back, feeling her hand still from their movements. “Ask me.”

“What?” You pinch her sides lightly, the hand she was using to play with your hair slapping the back of your head.

“Ask me to be your girlfriend Mick.”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Despite her trying not to sound nervous, you can hear the slightest tremble in her voice.

“Of course Mickey.” Moving up, you lean in to kiss her softly, lips moving against the other’s.

“So will you finally tell me where you got Mickey from?”

“Nope”

#woso #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #woso imagines #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader

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azaprocky · 10 months

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┃ pairings ➣ 〔 ❛ platonic f1 drivers x reader ❜ 〕

┃ summary ➣ 〔 ❛ emma chamberlain's vlog got taken over by formula 1 drivers. ❜ 〕

┃ face claim ➣ 〔 ❛ Nailea Devora + Bianca Bustamante ❜ 〕

┃ warnings ➣ 〔 ❛ cursing ❜ 〕

emmachamberlain posted a new story!

emmachamberlain posted a new video

watch Emma's new video?

Yes ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ |‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎No

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❝ On the way to Ferrari's motorhome, (Y/n) is calling me like crazy, she clearly missed me ❞ Emma said to her camera, walking to the paddock on the way to Ferrari's Motorhome that's currently stationed in France, once she had arrived to the Motorhome, the 23 year old driver rushes to give her a hug that almost knocked her over "I missed you so so much" (Y/n) kisses the cheeks of her childhood friend

"Aww look, maybe Ferrari's It Girl isn't all that tough" Emma gushes with the camera having a full view of the interaction "Shut up" (Y/n) pushed her friend Jokingly "Oh fuck here comes Lord Perceval" the female driver said in a jokingly disgusted tone looking at the older Ferrari driver who's walking to their direction "Emma what are you doing here?" Charles hugged the youtuber greeting her, while mouthing to (Y/n) "shut up, Mickey Mouse" the nickname referring to where (Y/n) had wore a Mickey mouse costume when she was a child on Halloween.

"What happened to 'hello?'—'How are you?'—'My name is—' " (Y/n) clapped back to the Monacan after breaking the hug with her childhood friend, "yeah, like eversince he became a multi millionaire he acts like he can ask women whatever he wants" Emma said teasing the Monacan driver who just seem to roll his eyes at his friend's antics "oh I swear to God I will put a fucking pencil on your eyes, stop rolling your eyes, here take my camera, your bad vibes is like bumming out my entire existence right now" Emma handed her camera to the 25 year old driver

"What am I gonna do with that— omg you're filming a vlog!" the older Ferrari driver excitedly said as he snatched the camera from the girl's hand "Vlog takeover—Hey Carlos!" Charles singsonged to the camera while calling out to the Spanish driver who's making his way to the younger girls who's conversing and Charles who's putting his literal face to the camera, the Spanish driver hugged Emma "Hi Emma!—what is Charles even doing?" the Spanish looked at his Monacan team mate with judging eyes

"I'm doing a vlog takeover and say hi to the camera" Charles said to his team mate putting the camera quite close to the Spanish driver's face "Hello Everyone!" Carlos said to the camera rolling his eyes to his friend in contrast to his smile that was displayed on his lips, while the two older drivers continued to talk and goof around the camera, the younger girls was now Infront of (Y/n)'s Ferrari car with (Y/n) teaching Emma the basics of F1 cars "Chassis is the main body of the car which the engines and suspensions are attached, Power unit is the term for engine, Sidepods keeps the car as tight and possible—" "Wait hold on, is there any safety feature in here?" Emma questioned (Y/n) slightly interrupting her discussion "I was about to get to that, this bad boy right here is Halo " (Y/n) touched the bar that is positioned on the top of the driver seat "Keeps us drivers safe whether there's an incident occuring, aside from the helmet" (Y/n) explained to her friend "So you ready?" She continued, Emma looked at her confused

"Ready for what?" She asked "YOU'RE DRIVING AN F1 CAR! PLEASE PLEASE" (Y/n) pleaded giving her friend the biggest puppy eyes she could master "WHAT?! no, nope, no way" Emma walked backwards as to run off from her friend but (Y/n) gets a hold of her wrist "Give me an acceptable reason first." The Brunette argued

"Because Ferrari. wants. clout." (Y/n) said to her childhood friend in a serious tone but still smiling while the nervous vlogger was looking at the white and red car unsure what to reply to her "what's in it for me?" Emma muttered as she huddled closer to the girl, I mean why would she agree immediately if she just saw her life flash through her eyes while her friend was explaining earlier, there must be an exchange for her friend's deal.

" i mean Ferrari will be paying for your extended 3 days stay here in France" The Ferrari driver offered confidently, she knew her friend would agree to this for mountful of reasons, her right hand was now offered to the now grinning brunette "deal " Emma spoke with ease as chuckles escaped from her lips, she has to admit that this was a dumb idea but anything she will do to let her stay here in France for a few days and to just avoid being in Los Angeles, a place she wanted to avoid for too long now.

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Charles and Carlos

While the two girls were currently in the Ferrari motorhome, the two older Ferrari drivers are on their way to the McLaren's humble abode not until they came across two alpha Tauri drivers who was currently filming a video for Yuki's YouTube channel.

"YUKI" Carlos screamed catching the attention of the Alpha Tauri drivers, "He runs like Cookie Monster whenever it sees a cookie" Charles spoke to the camera while displaying Carlos who seem to be now carrying the Japanese Driver

"OMG, PUT ME DOWN!" Yuki screamed "my son, how I missed you" Carlos had put down Yuki who has a clear discomfort look on his face "wow, like I wasn't even here" Pierre said to the Spanish driver who was clearly just paying attention to the younger alpha tauri driver, "You're not as valuable as Yuki, stop acting like you're all that Mate" Charles entered the conversation with the camera still intact with his hand and is beside Pierre "Oh really? not like you're just as important to (Y/n), actually yesterday, she said that she'd choose Daniel over your stupid ass" Pierre said pretending to do a hair flip on his hair

But before Carlos could reply to the other french driver's 'joke' Daniel and Lando approach the four

"Hey guys" Daniel was the first one who spoke from the McLaren drivers followed by Lando snatching Emma's Camera "Let me take over, Leclerc!"

"I'm about to—" Charles said trying to reach the camera from lando who was now running far from him, "Hi guys" Lando said posing for the camera with Daniel also joining to pose "so this is the feeling when you're a vlogger—" before Lando could even finish the sentence a sudden voice was heard from speakers around the paddock "This is Ferrari's (Y/n) (Y/l/n) speaking to the mic, can I call for the attention of Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz—"

"do you know who holds your Camera em? .. Yeah, unfortunately it's in the McLaren motorhome .. how did you even know that?! .. Gps, the camera costs me 500 dollars and memories ain't wasting that money for just someone to steal it ..."

"Ehem" (Y/n) clears her throat "And also callingfor McLaren's Lando Norris or Daniel Ricciardo, or whoever holds Emma Chamberlain's Camera, please go to Ferrari's Garage, thank you and goodbye" (Y/n) added walking out of the room and heading to the Ferrari's Garage

"I'm Nervous, what if I die?!, who's gonna feed my kids?!" Emma panicked, she was now using her phone to vlog slightly regretting giving Charles her vlog camera

"You'll be fine, You can do this!" (Y/n) cheered for her childhood friend while Emma was still asking herself what did she do to have gone through this point, as they enter the Ferrari garage they immediately saw Lando, Daniel, Charles and Carlos joking around with Emma's Camera, the four was greated with a now racing suit Emma fuming about them being careless about her camera "I swear if you break this Camera, you will never ever see the light of day" Emma ripped her camera from Lando's hand as she gave it to (Y/n)

"Hey not fair"

"If we were careless, (Y/n) wouldn't even holding it right now"

"True"

"I saw Lando almost drop it—"

"DANIEL—"

Despite the ongoing protests of the drivers, Emma rode the Ferrari car, a camera span to her face and her flashing a heart before gearing it up, she held her breath and remembered the things that (Y/n) said to her, but damn she forgot

"if I die, then I die" Emma said to herself as she start the car.

(Y/n) heard all of it she couldn't help but laugh at what her friend said, "She is going to die" Charles said to her laughing as they monitored Emma through a tv.

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twitter!

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Instagram!

your.username

liked by emmachamberlain, hunsterschafer and 2,306,956 others

your.username‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ You're the girl, You're the one.

view all 18,967 comments

emmachamberlain‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ I love you <33

liked by creator!

shericryiz‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ my fav duo!

scuderiaferarri‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ so cute

landonorris‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Im gonna steal that camera and become YouTube famous!!!

emmachamberlain‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ oh really? 👎👎

mischareii‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ the mothers are mothering!

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bonus!

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #ferrari #daniel ricciardo x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #emma chamberlain #pierre gasly x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #nailea devora #drama club #f1 ferrari #keeho imagines #p1harmony

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horseshoegirl · 2 months

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Set Me Alight - Part 6: Running Up That Hill

📜The angst... continued... Though I loved hearing all your thoughts about who you guys disliked the most in the last chapter. I'd love to know what you think after this chapter. I've been warned this one is a bit... OUCHIE?!

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Verbal fights (some mean stuff is said here; there might be some gaslighting), so bullying, wildlife encounters, shitty family dynamics, and angst.

#7k

Part 5 | Masterlist | Part 7

Everyone scattered in the aftermath.

Even Jessica and Veronica were nowhere to be found as you made your escape. You hardly blamed them for it. If you had been in their shoes, witnessing that shit show, you would have shuttered hard from the waves of secondhand embarrassment rolling off all the tension.

But you couldn't feel secondhand embarrassment from it; you were the embarrassment. And all because of the same reason that got you to this point in your life.

Jake Seresin just couldn't keep his damn mouth shut.

You're slightly optimistic about where the group could have gone, even with how hurt you felt. You hoped no one had heard or seen any of it, and they already had gone off to do their own thing. Probably the more likely choice, they did and wanted to avoid the fallout altogether, just like certain people had been all along.

Then a third miserable thought entered your mind - they were all pissed with you, maybe even with Jake, and wanted you gone. You could hardly blame them for that, either. Maybe deep down, you wanted to leave too.

It's how you found yourself following the rocky path, perhaps even dangerous if one wasn't paying attention, up to the top of the waterfall instead. The trail was open for use, though, from appearance alone, it looked like only some people came up here looking for another photo opportunity for someone with a camera below.

Climbing up the slope, rather than glancing below to the water, you turned your head towards the river, winding through a stretch of forest. If you weren't so upset, you might have stopped to wonder if this was the scenery authors envisioned when writing fantasy books. This stretch of woods ranged along the top of this mountainside terrain, and perhaps if you ventured far enough, somewhere you'd find yourself standing on the edge of the world.

You followed the river bank instead, even if you could call it that, your eyes so intently focused on the rushing water you had nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.

Cora's face flashes through your mind first. A shameful, disappointed look after asking if you had set up any more pranks. You had no intention to fuck up what was supposed to be a happy memory for Nat, but Cora could have put two and two together and assumed you were taking it another step too far.

Grace and Bob? Even Mickey? Pity. You didn't need to think about them further; the guilt from their expressions alone would drive you right into the dirt.

Rueben and Javy, you couldn't say, but Jessica and Veronica, you pushed from your mind, even if they tried to claim a few of your brain cells. They'd be so laced in pure, self-centred bias that you'd even go so far as to classify any remark they might make in the style and prose of Regina George's Burn Book - Masters of passive aggressiveness but perfect at playing the victim when the situation turned against them, as demonstrated the night you injured your hand.

Even if they had no part in what unfolded, any defensive remark would only be met with another, perhaps twisted, sentence intended to put you down.

You might have laughed at the fact had you not felt like crying instead.

It was a few minutes before you found the fork in the river, and there was a solitary rock big enough and flat enough to sit upon. You went to it without haste, letting your feet guide you by their own accord. Being mindful of your hand as you hoisted yourself up and settled onto the smooth surface, you drew your knees up to your chest rather than let your legs hang over the side. You didn't even bother removing your backpack; the weight pulling against your back was a comfort and a burden.

Weakly wrapping your arms around your legs, you let your cheek rest on your kneecaps. What comfort your arms could give was meagre and weak, and even as you stared at a riffle in the water, the gentle trickle or the momentary peace did nothing to help you.

While there was a part of you wishing Jake had decided to leave altogether, to hike back to the entrance of the park, never to show his ugly no, good, untimely, "if not now, when" ass again, you know there was no point. It wouldn't fix what had happened, and it wouldn't make Nat feel any better either.

To say this wasn't the first time you found yourself in the middle of a fight would be an understatement. As friends usually do, you and Nat had your fair share of them over the years, though they always ended up with the two of you making up.

Always because someone caved - that someone being you - maybe that's one of the reasons why you wanted to seek her out.

But you knew your presence wouldn't be welcomed. No matter your explanation, she wouldn't want to hear it, shoving it off and turning you away, especially after the first-row seat to her rage.

Her words hurt you, but you still knew you owed it to her to apologize.

For letting your temper get the better of you, yelling at Jake? Yes.

For the aftermath of it ruining her proposal? Also, yes.

You would sooner run after her for that apology alone had not Bradley gone after her - rightly so. That was something you couldn't interrupt or insert yourself into, especially after a clusterfuck such as that.

The 'thing' building in the pit of your stomach against the white, nauseating feeling of guilt also made you rethink your decision to seek her out. A feeling that only arose from you replaying Nat's rage-filled words repeatedly in your head.

Jake could be right. It's looking like he had always been right.

You don't understand why now, of all times, you'd entertain the possibility of accepting Jake's words. It is something you want to remain a mystery, shoved deep down into the forgotten places of your mind.

It's an impossible feat.

Nat's rage, so hot and what you'd classify as spiteful, blew the doors open so wide there was no amount of pressure you could shove at the idea to make it disappear. You buried your face into your knees, eye sockets aching under the force, driving lights and shapes to appear behind your lids.

What if? What if I said this? What if I did this? What if I just walked away?

But something else shot forward in your mind, something you'd never thought you'd entertain.

What if I did confront Nat? Confront her for the lack of support throughout the entire trip. Not just in the heat of the moment, but truly laid bare that she purposely brought me on this trip without telling me Jake would be here too.

If you told her how you felt, how she had made you feel, would that have made a difference, too?

You think not. Even if you had a part to play in your feelings of isolation, there would have been a reason, an explanation, a word vomit of her hurt feelings without care for yours. You had never truly voiced your feelings before, always burying them under wit and sarcasm.

There was no chance you would now.

Ironic, isn't it? All that snark you've mustered up for Jake, for the two twins incarnate, and you still couldn't bring yourself to stand up for yourself and set a boundary with your 'friend.'

You supposed that's how it's always been, too.

Growing up in the shadow of expectations, your voice often ended up unheard. A middle child sandwiched between an older brother who followed in your father's footsteps and a younger sister brimming with self-selected compassion – and two parents in high-achieving roles.

In the rare instance that all five of you could actually sit down and have a family dinner together, conversations only seemed to revolve around that fact. They were limited to surgical techniques, case studies, medical research projects, and overseas missions.

Your father always sat at the same end of the dining room table. Dr. Xiaver Spencer, the authoritative head neurosurgeon, would often glance over the rim of his glasses, nodding approvingly at your brother's, Dr. Alex Spencer, recounts of complex brain surgeries. Your mother always claimed her spot at the other end. Dr. Heather Spencer, the CEO of a prestigious teaching and research-based hospital, would meticulously plan her next board meeting in between bites.

With your brother between them on one side, Ella, your younger sister, would occupy the other. She often regaled the family with tales of distant lands and communities, places she had adventures to as a volunteer with UNICEF. If she wasn't home, she was overseas, helping build homes, handing out supplies, assisting medics, or studying.

Only 16, and she was off seeing the world, her pure joy of helping those in need making your paintings and designs at the local animal shelter quaint in comparison.

That left you and your seat at the table, never fixed or permanent, wedging between your brother, sister, mother and father in a different spot every time.

They made you feel quaint, too. Any attempt to share or talk about art, your art, or even the opportunities coming your way was always met with a "That's nice, dear" or "It's good to have hobbies."

Alex would laugh. Ella would remain silent. And nobody took you seriously enough when you started discussing it as an actual career.

Because the path you had chosen for yourself was less valuable than the stringent standards surrounding your family and what it meant to be a Spencer. Because pursuing a Fine Arts or even an Arts Illustration Degree was abhorrent when you could be working to save lives instead.

You might have taken to talking back and standing up for yourself in the early days. Each remark or attempt was followed with one of their own, so cutthroat it would have you sinking into the polished and unmarked leather of one of your mother's overly expensive dining room chairs. You would poke at the designer dish with the fancy silver fork through your tears, waiting till everyone else finished before taking off to your room and calling Aunt Viv.

Each time you did, the urge diminished, and soon, you didn't say anything unless you were spoken to. However, that was a rare instance indeed.

Why give your opinion? Why voice your thoughts when they weren't really warranted?

Correction - Wanted.

Aunt Viv, though. She... cared. Pure, unwavering support, no matter what you said, did or would think to do. She pushed you towards what you loved and stood by you like a rock when cash was tight, and scholarships weren't cutting it. She was unafraid to throw your name around in conversations. Not your full name, but "My niece Maeve does this," or "My niece is such a talented artist."

Who knew growing apples could have such a sway? You weren't sure where you'd be now if it weren't for her.

You knew you couldn't stay here on this rock forever. But you didn't know what else to do. Walk back with your head held high? Give Cora, Grace, or even Bob the compass and the map, and let them take over for the rest of the day? Hang out in the back of the group where you belonged, not saying a word to anyone else?

You could always leave.

The thought was tempting - walk away from it all. From Nat, from Jake, from the situation. You're surprised you didn't attempt to do it before. But leaving now felt like admitting defeat, and despite everything, you weren't ready to give up. Not yet.

Four-plus years, and it would have been a waste for nothing if you did. Cause if you walked away now, you'd never come back.

As you slowly slid from the rock, you decided on a plan. You'd walk back, find Nat to apologize, and attempt to mend whatever was left of the week. You and Nat had purposely planned more than one stop on this trip where Bradley could propose; he still could if things calmed down.

You followed the river back down the way you came, trying to figure out what to say, what to do, that would make the apology meaningful.

You would have to do it sooner than you thought. Cause the second you lifted your head at the sound of stones clacking hard against one another, Nat was striding towards you, completely lost in her thoughts.

Your initial thought would have been she was seeking you out had it not been for the devastated look on her face.

It left you frozen, unwilling to take a step further. You had geared yourself up to swallow your hurt to apologize for a mess that hadn't been entirely yours, but standing here and now in front of her, you knew.

It wouldn't matter what you said.

It's not a disappointment you see it reflected in her face. It's not love for a friend either or even dislike either. That would be giving her too much credit, and even after feeling sorry for what happened, acknowledging you owed her an apology, and burying that hurt aside, failed proposal or not, it comes rushing back inside.

Even then, you still caved first.

"What can I say or do to make up for what just happened?" you manage to plead.

She scoffs in the face of your honest ask. "You really don't know?"

You shake your head hard. "No. No, I don't. Not for this. All I can do is ask and offer whatever apology I can that would truly make it up to you."

Nothing on Earth could have prepared you for something like this.

Her hand flew up, preventing you from saying another word. “Just save it,” she spat. “I don’t want to hear it, Maeve. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

You gasped, and Nat's gaze hardened further, if possible.

"You think you're the only one hurt by all this?" Her voice raised, bitter and cold. "You think you're the only one with feelings? God, Midge, you can be so self-absorbed sometimes. It's always about you, isn't it?"

Your mouth dropped open like a fish. "You really think I wanted this," you emphasize by spreading your arms out wide, "To happen? Do you think I purposely wanted to fuck up your proposal just to get back at Jake? Come on, Nat!"

"Honestly?" she cries out. "I don't know!"

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "Wow. Okay then."

"You've been so caught up in your own drama with hating Jake that you didn't even see what was happening right in front of you. How all of it has been affecting everyone else in the group?"

You don't mean for your anger to get the best of you or for it to be directed at Nat, but her remarks are so spiteful that you can't help the shrill laugh crawling up your throat.

"And you did? Like you haven't been the picture of understanding and support. You had to have seen the way Jessica and Veronica have been treating me. Where were you then?!"

Nat eyes you up and down like she's just caught you in a lie. "Funny you say that, 'cause they told me the same thing," she insinuates. "How you've been less than welcoming. How you can't let things go. How you can't take a joke...."

Your jaw tightened, and the fact she was buying into their words and their stories without questioning it further stung harder than you wanted to believe.

"So their behaviour is justified because I was standing up for myself? For things you never saw from the sound of it!?"

And what does she do but shrug? The action is so dismissive it only fuels your frustration further. "You're not exactly innocent in all of this."

You know it's not those two she's referring to.

"What, Jake?" you mock. "You never told me Jake was coming on this trip. You've always known how I've felt about him, how it's always been between us, and you said nothing!"

"Because I thought you could handle it for one fucking week!"

"I leave a room the second I realize he's in it. I purposely go out of my way to avoid him. That's me fucking handling it! I avoid him at all costs because I can't stand to be in the same space as him without feeling like I will lose my mind. And you thought throwing us together was a good idea?!"

Nat didn't say anything, prompting you to continue. "A good friend tells her friend if the guy she hates is going on a week-long trip with them. A good friend acknowledges the hurt this person has caused..."

"A good friend explains why she dislikes a guy so much! She explains she lets them know...." Nat interrupts you, though you interrupt her right back.

"He's your fucking friend! I won't be the one to drive a wedge into a friend group that existed long before I ever came around!"

As if I could.

Nat's response was a mix of frustration and disbelief. "You just gave up! You just gave him the cold shoulder, and the next, you two were at each other's throats."

"And what?" you cried out. "You just believed what Jessica and Veronica said about me? Without even asking my side? You know how they can be, Nat! you know!"

Her eyes narrowed, and she moved closer, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. ”If you ever faced your problems instead of sprinting in the opposite direction, we wouldn't be in this mess. It's no wonder everything's falling apart around you."

Her words held you in a chokehold, a sharp intake of breath your only defence against the burning sting in your lungs. You remain silent, hurt flashing across your face as your eyes blur with unshed tears.

"Wow," you finally manage, voice croaking. "Kick me while I'm down. I'm sorry your proposal was ruined, Nat; I am. But that doesn't give you permission to be cruel."

She turns her head away from you to stare at the water. You press on further.

"Let's talk about this," you hold your arm up. "Or the fact I was the one hiding behind the bush first, not him. With my phone, trying to get photographs for you. Jake was the one who approached me. Who decided that was the best moment of all other times to start fucking with me. I might have pranked him earlier, but I wasn't about to do it during a moment such as that. I was the one telling him to back the fuck off. "

Your eyes were welling up with tears, but you fought them back, refusing to let her see just how much she'd wounded you.

"Or let's talk about how Veronica gave me a snide remark about my art, and I stood up for myself, only to have her knock my brushes to the side. Or how they cornered Jake into pulling a prank that resulted in this?" you hold up your arm.

She turns to you, her eyes harsh. "Like how you pranked Veronica?"

You rolled your eyes. "It was meant for the Asshole, but you know what, I'm happy she got a little bit of Karma after everything you just admitted."

Nat's face twisted, a mix of anger and something else you couldn't quite place. "You know what, Maeve? Maybe you're right. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. You and Jake, this trip, everything!"

"And you think blaming me is going to make it better?"

Nat opened her mouth to retort but then closed it, pressing her lips into a thin line. The anger seemed to drain from her face momentarily, replaced by a weary resignation.

"Maybe I never should have invited you instead."

You bit your bottom lip, nodding more to yourself than to her. A sad noise crept up your throat, a laugh, though it was one more of resignation, maybe even ironic amusement. The thought comes rushing forward to sweep you off your feet like the first time you heard it.

Because Jake was right, after all.

Standing there wounded and silent, in the hardness of Nat's eyes, you conclude that perhaps you were never really a friend in the first place.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe you never should have. At least then, I wouldn't have spent years thinking we were actually friends after all."

Shaking your head, you turned away from her, the weight of everything pressing down on you. With each step you took, the sound of the river beside you grew louder, its rushing waters seeming to beckon you forward. The thought that if you could allow yourself to be swept away, to tumble over the waterfall at its end, flashed through your mind. That would be enough to wash away the pain.

Nat sighed loudly from behind you and then called out after you, "Midge, stop!"

The fact she called you Midge, not Maeve, made your resolve burn brighter.

You twisted, continuing to walk backwards. You dramatically threw your hands out to the side as you sarcastically called out through your tears, "Why should I? I only think about myself, right? Make everything about me? Why quit now when I'm only following in the example you've so clearly set?"

You sniffed a breath, and then the remark slipped past your lips, the defence mechanism you've used in all other circumstances, finally landing a blow on someone you once considered a friend. You purposely stopped, raising your hands to clap against the thick fabric of the bandage on your arm.

"Let's give a round of applause and a standing ovation to the one and only Natasha Trace, the saint who never does anything wrong!" you dropped, bending yourself down into a dramatic bow. "Bravo for putting up with me for so long! What an Oscar-worthy performance, indeed!"

You didn't bother seeing her reaction, purposely straightening yourself to turn back to walk the path ahead. Honestly, you didn't want to see it either.

You simply had enough.

All those years you spent fighting against the words of one jock in your apartment bathroom because you didn't want to lose Nat as a friend - gone in minutes.

Fighting your sobs, you tried to devise some plan, anything beyond your initial decision to leave as you stormed forward. Perhaps some other tourist below would take pity on your situation and let you tag along back to the park entrance. There was a bus station there. You could buy a ticket back into the city and then take the train home.

Either way, your decision to leave had been the obviously correct one. Nat made that so abundantly clear.

You could see the opening to the slope from a distance, and you took a moment to compose yourself. Wiping at the lingering tears on your face, you drew in sharp, equal breaths, hoping the fresh air would calm you down. If you were about to ask a total stranger for help, you couldn't do it looking like this.

You tilted your head back on your shoulders, closing your eyes as you tried to feel the breeze on your face, seeking solace in its cool embrace. You let your hand rest on the nearby tree, trying to feel the sensation of its bark under the palm of your hand. Rolling your head forward, you shook your shoulders, straightening your posture before opening your eyes.

But the path ahead was no longer empty. And you caught sight of the last person you wanted to see, making their way up the hill.

The universe was a fine-flecked bitch, so that it would seem. Because there was Jake, in all his glory, precariously walking up the slope.

Seeing him sends the sensation of sheer ice shooting across your skin. And the hurt that had found a home inside your chest amplifies into an overwhelming urge to run. Run, and never look back. Run and escape.

Run. Run. Run. Run.

But is it from him? Or from his words and the truth in them, haunting, following you from that night? A truth that was proven only a mere few seconds ago.

Panic flutters in your chest at the thought he'd seen you, and you spin rapidly on your heel, hoping you could find another path or maybe even hide until he accomplished whatever he intended to do by coming up here.

But your bag snags on a branch, and you wince as the leaves rustle obnoxiously, knowing that if Jake hadn't seen you standing there before, he certainly would now.

Jake lifted his head at the sudden noise, only to see a quick flash of bright blue. Your sleeping bag curled on top of your backpack disappeared behind the thick trunk of a tree.

"Midge, wait!"

Like hell, I'd wait for you.

His voice spurs you on, taking off into the thick underbrush. Jake is undeterred in the slightest, taking off after you. He wasn't far behind, having extended his pace to get to you quicker once he was up the side of the hill. You were at a disadvantage; your short legs were no match for his long ones, and your heavy bag only weighed you down.

Your only hope would be to lose him in the bush, counting on his height, build, and weight even, to slow him down and watch where he was going. You were small, yes, but you could get through the gaps or the trees better than he ever could.

But Jake was uncaring if thorns were ripping at his jeans or if branches were smacking him in the face. He was so fucking stubborn, and his drive was absolute. If not to get you to talk, then not to let you disappear into the woods alone.

"Midge, stop running! I'm not going to hurt you!"

His voice came from everywhere and anywhere, seemingly bouncing off trees and down the paths they grew, a haunting echo that unleashed a fresh wave of tears. As you rounded the corner of a tree, you came across an intriguing root system twisting along the ground when your vision blurred.

You cried out when you tripped over a root. You caught yourself and, without stopping, lifted your arm so the bandage might catch the tears rushing down your face, feet continuing to step in the spaces between the roots blindly.

You did. You have been. And you probably still will.

The thought, bitter and resigned, fueled your steps farther and farther. The underbrush grabbed at your legs like hands pulling you down. Burs stuck to the fabric of your leggings and pricked at your skin. Branches whipped at your face and arms, leaving thin lines of red in their wake. But the thought of losing Jake, getting out of this park and never seeing him again urged you on.

But when you finally burst through the underbrush, expecting to find a trail, a slope down, or even a trail marker to tell you where to go, you were met with nothing of the sort. It was a dead end, a sheer cliff drop that had you skidding to a jarring halt against stone ground. Gravel slid beneath your feet, and your arms flailed wildly as you desperately tried to save your balance.

Your heart must have stopped briefly as you were forced to look down, confronting the edge of this unexpected cliff and the daunting drop below. While not lethal, a fall like this would only lead to injury, one you wouldn't tempt fate for.

A cold wave of realization washed over you as you finally regained your balance and looked around. The ledge you found yourself on was a narrow outcropping that offered no path forward, only a steep fall or retreat back through the bush toward Jake.

You were utterly, utterly trapped.

Twigs snapped under Jake's boot as he stepped out from behind the bush. His breath was laboured, audible harsh pants that had you reaching up to cup your hands over your ears before sliding them forward to cover your eyes.

I can't do this now. I can't do this now.

"Why do you always run from me?"

You couldn't think. Nothing was coming forth to save you now. No witty retort or clever line. No semblance of that resolve that rushed through your veins before. You were literally incapable of rescuing or being enough to save yourself from what was about to unfold.

So, your anger rose up to greet you like a long-lost friend instead.

"You don't get to ask me that! Why do you even care?" The words erupted from you louder and more forceful than you'd care to admit, letting your hands fall from your face to smack against the side of your thighs. "What the fuck more could you possibly want from me, Jake?! What... what was the point of you chasing me? To corner me? To say more about me or remind me how much of a fuck up I really am? To drive the wedge, the fucking knife, deeper?"

Even as you yelled, you still couldn't face him.

"Everyone in this fucking camp hates me! In general. Do you think I don’t know what people say? How they look at me? And you… you’re no different. You’ve made your thoughts about me crystal clear from the second I met you."

You stomped forward, pointing your finger into his chest. "We made a fucking deal not to ruin their week for them. We agreed. But you just had to cause shit. You just had to bang that pot; you just had to put away the coffee; you just had to think of the worst fucking shortcut; you just had to scream, bear. You just had to hurt me!"

You were panting hard, thumping your finger into his chest.

"I told you. You throw that shit at me. I'll throw that shit back. So thank you for that, because if your point in all of that was to end Nat and I's friendship and kick me out of the group, then congratulations. You succeed!"

As he absorbed the full force of your words, the pure hurt pouring out of you, he seemed to deflate right before your eyes. For a moment, he stood there, his features softening and his usual cocky confidence nowhere in sight. Some might have even called it a genuine look of distress and confusion.

Jake's voice was barely above a whisper when his shoulders slumped, and he asked defeatedly, "Why do you hate me so much, Midge? What did I do?"

In his honest green eyes, you could see the plea for an answer, any answer that might get you to open up to him and simply explain.

But you couldn't.

How could you explain the reason you yelled, shouted, snarked, and downright hated him was because he had been completely right? At the infamous Halloween party, you caught him about to hook up with that girl in your bathroom, uttering about your supposed friendship with Natasha?

How, since that moment, you had been running from him because it was the easier option? Better than giving yourself over to the possible truth - a truth you have seen time and time again. Because allowing yourself to feel hurt over catching him with another girl when he flirted and showed an interest in you for most of the night was better than possibly ruining the one friendship you had.

It shouldn't even matter right now. You already had. And just like that night, Jake had been right the first day by the lake. You did run away from your problems.

Because I don't know how to do anything else.

His question hung in the air, a plea for some understanding, some clue, some indication of how things could have gotten so bad between you.

A gasp tore from your throat instead.

Not because you were outwardly expressing your frustration and struggle in answering him, but for the fact you caught sight of a massive creature emerging from the treeline behind him.

Every emotion you had felt before vanished at the sight and was replaced with only two: panic and fear.

Your arm moved by its own accord, your hand latching onto Jake's sleeve. He tried to tug his arm back, but you wouldn't let him. You were near catatonic, your grip as strong as metal and your face pale as ice as you watched the approaching creature finally notice your presence. With its mouth hung open, the brown monster stood on its haunches to inquire if you were friend, foe, or its next meal.

Jake remained clueless to your reaction, frowning when he reached up to pry your hand away, unaware of the approaching threat. "What the fuck, Midge. Let me go!"

You couldn't. You couldn't let Jake go. You couldn't do anything except stutter out, "baaa baaa... Bear!"

How your legs hadn't given out yet, you had no clue.

"Really? Do you think I'm going to fall for that after what I did to you? No way. Stop changing the damn subject and give me an answer."

You're not sure how you managed it, but you attempted to hit him on his shoulder, nervous energy causing you to let up on the force behind such a move. You hadn't even felt the sting of your bandaged wrist, adrenaline masking any pain you might have felt, even if it was a rather flimsy attempt.

You still hadn't taken your eyes off the brown animal. It was massive, rugged, and looked like it had no protests about which one of you it would eat first. The scar across its back and face was another story altogether, too. Its teeth would have no problem tearing into Jake; you'd merely be a tiny slice of desert. Or the appetizer.

"Midge, stop and talk to me like a fucking adult!"

The fact he still didn't listen to you seemed to wake you out of your stupor.

"Turn the fuck around and look, you idiot!"

You aren't sure if your prompting would have gotten Jake to turn around and look. Because once you finally managed to gather the courage to draw your eyes away from the thing deciding who to go after first, Jake's face was frozen, contemplating if you were telling the truth.

The bear roared, shattering any doubt.

His reaction was instant, eyes flaring and mouth hanging slightly. He spun, shooting out his arm as his hand made contact with your hip, urging you behind him. Your hands scrambled for anything to grab onto as he turned, eventually settling on clutching the strap of Jake's backpack.

If you weren't so scared, you might have wondered why Jake was here, putting himself in harm's way for you. You might have even whipped out a sarcastic, "Yeah, that's right. Eat him first, you wild creature."

But either one of you had anywhere to go. And even if you could manage to distract it, there was no way either of you could outrun it.

"What are we going to do?" you shot out nervously.

"It's a bear, Midge!" Jake rushed out. "Just stay the fuck behind me."

You panicked and snapped back, "I saw it first! I know what a bear looks like!"

It bellowed, making Jake jolt backwards. You let out a cry, burying your face into the back of his massive bag.

The bear safety facts from the class the park rangers made you take before you ventured into the park are conveniently missing from your mind. All except the one you whisper harshly, "They tell you not to run."

Jake's voice cut through the tension. "Well, if we can't run, I guess now's a good time to see who can yell louder?"

"You really want to start a shouting match now?!"

"Were you paying any attention in that safety class? Running. No. Yelling. Yes. Surely, between the two of us, we can manage that!"

"I was doing that before it decided to show up! What makes you think that's not the reason it sought us out, dumbass?"

"Because I refuse to believe my sparkling personality is what attracts bears!"

You laughed sharply as the bear seemed to be weighing its options. You were not sure why it hadn't decided to charge the two of you yet, but you would have bet good money it had to do with the scars littered across its body.

"You called for one the other night, remember? Practically pulled a Dory!"

"Don't hate on a children's Icon, Midge!"

"I'm hating on you for what you did to me! They aren't mutually exclusive things!"

Jake took a careful step forward, testing the waters. You shuffled with him, eager to put space between you and the ledge. The creature tilted its head as if pressing its ear to the ground. Then, without warning, it let out a deep, resonating roar directly at the both of you. You buried your face into Jake's backpack again, trying not to scream.

"That was probably not one of my best ideas."

Your voice was muffled against the fabric. "Want me to make a list?"

Jake's laugh was nervous. "Only if I can make one for you."

The bear, seemingly unimpressed by your banter, shifted its weight, causing Jake and you to tense up again.

"Thinking yelling at a bear would actually work as a deterrent is on it."

"We're supposed to yell at it, not at each other."

"You think it can tell the difference?" you asked him, your voice pitchy. "It doesn't matter who or what we are yelling at."

Jake managed a strained smile. "Common ground. Wow, we're practically bonding over here."

"Because nothing brings people closer like shared trauma," you snap, fear sharpening your words. "I'm tripping you first."

"I'm leaving you behind."

"I'll feed you to the bear myself."

"I run faster, scared than you do, mad."

"Hang on, let me find a stick and shove it up your ass."

Jake's eyebrows shot up. "Now there's the Midge I know."

Peering over Jake's arm, the bear made a sudden, decisive lunge forward with a single paw, claws extended, as if taunting its prey, waiting to see if the two of you would scramble. The move was unexpectedly aggressive, and it sent the two of you scrambling backwards in panic.

Neither of you realized how close to the cliff's edge you actually were. Only when your boots slid again on gravel, and you were brought back to a few moments ago when you nearly fell over yourself.

"Jake! The cliff!" you cried out, desperately trying to push on his backpack. You could feel it, one or maybe two more inches, and you'd be slipping off the edge.

"Hang on to me!"

"What do you think I'm doing?" You shot back, your words laced with adrenaline-fueled irritation and fear. However, you did find your grip miraculously tightening further to anchor yourself to him. But you couldn't with your injured hand, trying desperately to wind it through the straps across the bag instead.

Jake's mind flickered rapidly between the bear and the crackling stone beneath his feet. "Okay, new plan. We let it charge, and we dodge."

"And your an action movie junkie, that's never going to work!" you rushed out.

"What else do we have, Midge?!"

Honestly? Nothing.

Jake widened his stance, almost as if he was sizing up the bear. You mirrored his movement as best you could, though it seemed futile with your smaller stature.

"When I move, you move!" Jake's voice was sharp, a clear command, and if this were any other circumstance, your instinctive retort would have been a defiant, "Don't tell me what to do!"

For this?

Nope. Have at it, Jake. Maybe they'll let me torture you in hell.

It was stupid. Idiotic even. But what else could the two of you do? You were literally boxed in—no way to go.

Then something popped under your foot. And above the frantic beating of your heart, more menacing than the bear's growls, came a sickly sound that made your blood run cold.

An ominous crack.

What followed was worse - a series of smaller yet equally sinister sounds and the feeling of pieces of stone wobbling beneath your feet. You didn't dare look down, for you already knew.

The damn cliff was falling apart.

"Jake!" Your voice was desperate, trying to pierce through his concentration. But he hadn't heard you, solely focused on when this bear would finally decide to leap. Or maybe he did and thought it was you being scared.

You shoved at his back, but he was like a brick wall, and you had nothing to ground yourself with.

You shouldn't have tried to push him, either. The second you tried to apply some force behind another shove, a chunk of stone came loose, allowing the ground beneath your feet to give away.

You dropped with a cry, legs knocking hard into the fragmented pieces of stone, and you found yourself dangling, held aloft solely by the one strap of Jake's backpack. The elastic straps around your wrist had already snapped against your bandage, freeing your arm, and it waved out, reaching for something that had never been there in the first place.

Jake fell backwards at the weight, causing him to step back at an angle. He called out your name and tried to keep his eyes on the bear while trying to reach for you blindly. You were trying to bring your legs up to a section of stone that looked stable enough to not give under pressure so you might be able to grab his hand. But with how heavy your pack was, you couldn't gain enough momentum to swing your leg over, no matter how hard you tried.

Suddenly, his hand gripped the bend of your elbow hard enough that you were sure there would be bruises if either of you managed to get out of this in one piece.

"Let go, Midge! I'll pull you up!"

"The bear!"

"It's still deciding which one of us to eat first!"

"Don't take your eyes off it!"

"What do you think I'm doing? Picking daisies?!"

You weren't sure what was louder—the bear's unsettling clacking or the ominous sounds of stone shifting ominously under Jake's weight. The truth was, you didn't want to find out.

You let go, entrusting your entire weight into Jake's hold, crying out when you dropped a few inches. But whether it was your cry or Jake needing to ensure your safety over his own, he dared to take his eyes off the bear to glance over his shoulder.

That was all it took for everything to happen all at once.

The brief shift in his gaze, the twist of his waist, and the slight lean were enough to unsettle the already compromised ground beneath him. With a heart-sinking crack, the remaining piece of the cliffside he was perched on gave way.

The bear roared, charging forward at the prospect of losing its meal. And Jake lost his balance, using the momentum to twist his body to fully face you, some last-minute attempt to ensure your safety if he could, with a look of a thousand promises he could never make nor keep.

But you didn't see it. You were too busy watching the last crumbling stone disappear from underneath Jake's boots before gravity took over, cruel and unforgiving, as you finally started to fall.

For a breathless moment, you were suspended in the air, Jake's figure falling forward with you, nothing but white overcast clouds behind him. His hand was still gripping your elbow, and his eyes were wide, the realization of what was about to occur striking him hard.

With a final decisive tug born out of desperation, Jake pulled you close as he tumbled over, your face colliding with the solid wall of his chest. His other arm wrapped around your back, around your bag, his body twisting mid-air with you in his grasp, ensuring in the split second before gravity claimed its due, you were on top of him, not beneath.

Then, with a terrifying rush, the two of you fell, the ground rushing up to greet you both. Another roar of the bear above faded into the roar of the wind in your ears. With the pit forming in the pit of your stomach, above the wind, the scream you produced vibrating against Jake's chest was worse.

What happened after that, you couldn't recall.

The world didn't fade but snapped to black.

Had to throw the cliffhanger in there somewhere? 😂😅💛

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Part 7 - My Blood - In-progress

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