#olivia wilde really fumbled the bag

[mexicangela]

jason sudeikis quite literally makes me kick my feet and giggle

#jason sudeikis #jsuds #ted lasso #down bad #just #what a handsome man #he’s so precious #and hot #i would sell my soul #mr sudeikis #olivia wilde really fumbled the bag

[kanonsarchivedblog]

All, Most, Some, and then None

Rating: T Word Count: 2,831 Warnings: Minor character death, anxiety attacks, hints towards child abuse, internalized homophobia, usage of a homophobic slur. Author's Notes: Jake needs a hug. And therapy. 

Four years, two months, sixteen days ago.

Colton sighed against Jake’s neck, warm breath fanning out across even warmer skin. The windows of the jeep had long since fogged over, giving a strange sense of privacy. “Jake?” He spoke softly, breaking the silence that had settled across the couple in their afterglow. 

“What’s up, baby?” Jake replied, eyes still closed as he ran his fingers across Colton’s back. Who knew this was how they’d end up? It was fate that they were in the same place, same time. Weird  how deployments work like that. 

Colton sat up, bracing his hands on Jake’s chest, causing Jake’s eyes to crack open, curiosity settling across his features. . His skin, even in the middle of winter, was such a wonderfully tanned shade. His hair was curling a little; he’d be cutting it again soon, but god, did Jake love it when it got curly like that. “My time’s up in a year and a half. When it’s over, I’m retiring. I’m done.”

“Done?” Brows furrowing, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaning his back against the door. “You’re gonna leave the Air Force?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve done my time. I’m a pilot, now. I’m tired of this- I’m ready for a new adventure.” Colton grinned- oh, that wild grin, how it lit his face up. “You- you don’t have to. You’re about to be a O3! You gotta stay in. It’ll be like a big “fuck you” to your dad and Oliver.”

“I mean, I didn’t plan on leavin’. But that means you could-... I mean, if you wanted-” Jake’s voice faltered as he shifted, gaze settling on the headrests. “You could move in with me wherever I end up getting deployed- if it’s civilian, at least.”

“Really?” Colton breathed, eyes wide in the lowlight. He reached forward, cupping Jake’s cheeks, before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “God, yes.” He whispered against his lips, his own spreading into a smile. “Yes.”

“A year and a half.”

“Think you can wait that long, cowboy?”

Jake grinned as he reached over, hand settling on the back of Colton’s neck, cupping the base of his skull. “You know I can, baby.” ────────

Three years, six months, fourteen days ago. 

His hands fumbled with the keycard as he tried to balance the bag of take out, the strawberry lemonade, and his phone- which was ringing. Whoever was calling had been incessant- this is the fourth time. Cursing under his breath, the keycard finally worked, allowing for the hotel door to swing open. Slipping inside, he set the keycard aside and carefully set his drink down. Food-

Phone. Ringing. Again.

Groaning, Jake checked the caller ID- wait. That’s… Stella Williams? Quickly answering, he held the phone to his ear. “Miss Williams?”

“Oh, Jackson- I’m so glad you answered. Have I… Caught you at a bad time?” Her voice sounds off- strangely hoarse, warbling slightly- like she’d been crying. Why would she have been crying?”

“No, ma’am. I actually just got to my hotel room for the night. You caught me at the right time- I go offshore tomorrow morning.” Jake cupped the phone between his shoulder and ear as he leaned over, unlacing his boots. “Is everythin’ alright?”

“That’s what I’m calling about,” she sighs heavily- as if the weight of the world were settling upon her shoulders. “Jackson, there… Was an accident.”

“Are you alright? Is Rose alright?” His gaze slid to the clock on the nightstand; eight twenty-nine p.m. for them. “Is-... Did somethin’ happen to Thea?” The idea of his baby sister getting hurt makes his hands shake; he knows that Olivia would call him if something happened, but Trevor would try to stop her. ‘He ain’t our son anymore.’ That had been the last words his father had spoken to him. About him. 

“No- no, mi hijo, no.” Stella’s voice caught; she sniffled once, twice. “Oh, Rosa, ven aquí.”

“I’m here- ve a sentarte, mamá.” Rose’s voice came across the phone.

“Rose? What’s going on?”

A heavy sigh settles across the speaker. “Colton was in an accident, Jake.”

His heart seemed to stop beating. “What?”

“There was… We don’t have all of the details yet, but there was an altercation on his way back from a mission. I don’t know what it’s called- when… When the planes all follow and you all fight in the skies?”

“A dogfight.” His hands are cold. 

“... His plane went down in the Atlantic.”

No. No- no, he didn’t hear her correctly. “What?”

“He was supposed to be coming home. This was his last mission, and then he’d be home, right? That’s what he said.” Rose whimpered on the other end. “But his plane went down and they- they don’t have his body, Jake.”

“No- Rose, this- no. No? He’s supposed to be- be home. He was going to leave- to get discharged.” His head was swimming with the information; the room was spinning around him. “I just talked to him a few days ago.”

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” she whispered- oh, she was crying. She was crying. “He really did love you.”

“I-... I need to go.” He didn’t wait for her to respond as he ended the call. His phone slipped from shaking hands, falling to the carpeted floor. No. No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Colton was supposed to come home to him and his mother and his sister. He was supposed to come home safely, and get discharged, and start working at the VA. He was supposed to become a counselor, that’s what he wanted. He wanted to help the people who helped him. 

“No.” Tears spilled over pale cheeks as he doubled over, hands settling on his knees. His breaths came in harsh pants, the same way they would when he felt sick. Oh, no, was he getting sick? He heaved, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. Lurching to his feet, he managed to stumble his way to the bathroom, where he promptly collapsed. Nothing came up- dry heaves; he hadn’t eaten since early that morning, hadn’t had the chance to eat his dinner yet. Nothing left but bile that refused to even rise, as if it, too, were dreading this. 

Forehead resting on the cool porcelain of the toilet, Jake listened his own rattling breaths. Colton was thirty; his birthday was exactly a month before his own. They had been best friends since elementary school; he had been the one who held him when he cried because he wasn’t supposed to like boys, the one who helped clean his busted lip after Trevor had hit him hard enough the day after picture day in ninth grade that he was certain he’d need stitches. Colton, who had sat up with him and played video games until the sun was coming up, and then pulled him back against him so that Jake would finally rest, and Colton’s arms were around him, and his chest was such a good pillow, and he was warm and for the first time Jake had felt safe and oh, god, Colton was dead and they didn’t have his body.

They didn’t have his body. 

A sob wracked his frame; his teeth clacked together in a way that should have been painful but in the moment, nothing could compare to the pain coming from his chest, from his heart. This was not a moment for pretty tears spilling over flushed cheeks and silent sobs that were suited for a movie. No, these were the sobs that threaten to rip your throat open from the inside out, that try to break your clavicle and pierce your sternum, ripping them to shreds as you try to catch your breath but for fuck’s sake, it feels like you can’t even do that, now. Your rib cage is collapsing and you’re drowning beneath the waves of an invisible ocean, the arms carrying you deeper and deeper until you can’t see the surface any longer. Head tilting back, emerald gaze squeezing shut as if the action would cease the flow of tears. Guess what, dumbfuck? It didn’t. 

He shook as he pushed away, disgust washing over him; who knows the last time this bathroom had been deep cleaned. Struggling to get to his feet, the image of a newborn horse danced within his mind. Yeah, that’s him- a newborn horse, lost and afraid and alone. So very alone, now, because the guy who you were in love with is dead.

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to GO.” Jake yelled, hands fisting in golden locks, tugging hard. A few strands snapped away from the stress. “You were supposed to be SAFE! You were supposed to come- TO COME HOME TO ME.” A new sob tore free, one that mixed with a wail that no doubt had his neighbors wondering what the hell was happening in here. “Colton was different. He was smart. He- we were gonna get out TOGETHER.” They were supposed to last one more year, and then they could get out, and get a stupid house outside of the city with a yard and a dog, and have a garden because Colton likes fresh tomatoes and he hates the store bought ones, and Jake likes fresh peppers and could make some good relish or something with the veggies.

The phone was in his hand before he realized what he was doing. Clearing his throat as the dial tone rang, he stared at the wall across from him without really seeing it. 

“Jake?” Thea’s voice broke across the line. “Is everything okay?”

“Thea- hey, is, uh,” a pause; he clears his throat again. “What’s mom up to?”

“She’s right here, hold on.” A fumble with the phone; he could hear her whispering to Olivia that Jake is on the phone; something’s happened, ma, he sounds like he’s been cryin’.

“Can- can y’all still hear me?”

“Oh, Jake, baby, have you been cryin’?” Olivia’s spoke suddenly, voice soft. He hates the way his throat constricts around a lump, more tears threatening to spill over suddenly. “Sugar, talk t’me.”

“Colton Williams was killed, mama.” More murmuring on the other line as Thea gasps. She’d gone to school with Rose; they’d been friends when they were younger. Similar age gaps and all. “Miss Williams just called me and told me.”

“Oh, bless her heart,” Olivia whispered, voice thick with tears he could picture her holding back. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, a shuddering breath escaping as his mother sighs. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s fine-”

“Who’re you talkin’ to?” The voice makes Jake fall still, eyes widening, heart racing in his chest for an entirely new reason. Fear sweeps across him, an involuntary reaction; his knees curl to his chest, chin tucking down- as if the action could hide him from Trevor. “Olivia, who’s on the phone?”

“It’s Jackson, honey.”

“Why is he calling now?” annoyance was clear in his tone. 

“Dad!” Thea exclaims; he can picture the way she’d be frowning so clearly. Brows drawn in, bottom lip jutted out, arms crossed over her chest. Maybe she even stomped her foot like she used to.

“What?” A scoff. 

“Stella’s son, Colton, he’s dead. Killed in combat” Olivia tries to whisper, but Jake still hears it loud and clear. Dead, dead, dead. K.I.A.

“Who?” Trevor asks, sounding more annoyed by the second. Who? How could he just ask who the hell that was?

“Colton Williams- Jake’s friend from school. The one who Jake was involved with.”

“The one that made our son a faggot?”

The gasp that rips free from Jake is borderline painful as Olivia yells at Trevor to not use that sort of language in her house. He yells back that he can use whatever language he wants; he’s the one who pays most of the bills, anyways. His thumb hovered over the red end button before Trevor started talking again. 

“Good riddance. He was a bad influence on Jake. Jake, boy, you plannin’ on comin’ home to visit any time soon? My buddy’s daughter-”

“Trevor-”

“No,” Jake whispered before clearing his voice. “No, I’m not going to visit. Colton was killed in a god damn dogfight and all you can fucking say is GOOD RIDDANCE?”

“Don’t you take the lord’s name in vain, Jackson!”

“FUCK, TREVOR. This is why I cut contact!” His voice exploded from him, the pain and rage finally breaking free. He couldn’t find it in himself to really give a damn, now, not with the anger that coursed through his veins. “This is why I don’t come home! This is why I blocked your number! Because you can’t get your head far enough out of your ass to care about your own son and the person who he loved most DYING.”

The other end of the line was quiet. “You loved him?” Thea asked softly.

“I did.”

“Then maybe you should’ve been in that plane with him.” Trevor spoke loud and clear. 

“You would have liked that, huh? You always liked Oliver more than me.”

“Because Oliver knew what was right. HE wasn’t a sinner. HE is a MAN.”

“Oliver’s in the middle of a fucking custody battle for a kid he had with someone overseas that he doesn’t even fucking want.”

“At least he fucked someone of the opposite gender.”

“Oh, FUCK you. FUCK YOU.” Jake’s voice cracked; oh, that hurt. “I am a god damn LIEUTENANT in the Navy, I’ve got my medals, I’ve got my wings- I’m good at what I do and I know it! Who I love doesn’t fucking matter, dad! I’m doing some good and all you care about is where my dick’s been! It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t! Because Colton is fucking dead and I’m alone here and I thought calling would give me some sort of comfort but I was wrong. I’m always wrong when it comes to this damn family.”

The line clicks; call ended blinks on the screen before it falls blank. In a fit of rage, Jake throws the phone across the hotel room, listening as it slams into the door. It wouldn’t break; it had one of those cases on it that keeps it safe. Military grade, they call it. Ha.

Military.

Chest heaving, he stood in the room. His pulse was like thunder in his ears, pressing against his ear drums. Colton was dead. The man he’d been in love with for the last five years was dead. The one person who knew him better than he knew himself. Who knew just how he liked his coffee, who had called him the moment he was able to during deployment to let him know he was safe, who had shared his notes with him when it came to learning the ins and outs of different aircrafts. Who had shared his bed so many nights.

Pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, fresh, broken sobs spilled forth from his lips. “I love you, Jackson August Seresin.” Colton’s voice whispered in his mind on repeat. I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Take me back- god, take me back to that night. Please. Please.”

No one answers his prayers.  ──────── Three years, six months, fifteen days ago.

He hadn’t slept. His eyes hurt to move, and yet, he was waiting for the helicopter that would take him to the carrier, where he’d be spending the next eight months on- along with at least twenty others, apparently. The coffee in his hand was warm; it was a good distraction from the turmoil that wracked his mind. Colton was dead, and they most likely would never find his body out in the damn ocean. 

His head hurts. Maybe he can bum some tylenol off someone later. 

It was a mixture, he’d noticed; kids that couldn’t be older than nineteen on their first deployment, seasoned sailors. Only a few other aviators; guess they aren’t in that dire of a need right now. A sigh slipped free as he raised the cup of coffee to his lips and sipped slowly, relishing in the way the hot caffeine burnt on the way down. Good. Maybe that will dissolve the lump that lingered. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket twice. A text message. He’ll check that once he’s on board and settled. For now, his gaze remained on the horizon, watching as the sun slowly climbed into the sky. Six thirty a.m. in a cool San Diego. 

Colton would have loved it here. 

“Hey,” a voice drew his attention; his head turned slightly, gaze settling on the woman who had come up to him. Her smile was bright; she was a pretty little thing. Aviator, too, judging by her fatigues. Huh. “Name’s Phoenix- you’re an pilot, too, right? What’s your callsign?”

“Hangman.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving her standing alone- leaving her hanging.

#jake hangman seresin #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin x male oc #jake seresin x original character #jake sersin x original male character #tw: childhood abuse #tw: minor character death #tw: anxiety attack #tw: homophobia #tw: homophobic language #jake just needs a hug #and some therapy #have some fun backstory #ouchies

[astranva]

I’m not trying to continue with the Olivia Wildehate train.but if it wasn’t for her we would have gotten one of the greatest press tours for a movie to ever happen. Chris pine, Florence Pugh, Kiki Layne, Gemma Chan, Harry Styles and Nick Kroll. We could have had that press tour happened and all of these pairings no matter how you put them together would have been amazing and I blame Olivia Wilde. We all know Florence didn’t wanna promote this film she could have taken time away from Dune, Zendaya was able to and so we’re Timothee and they are the stars of the movie very suspicious. Chris pine pulling out of all of his interviews after the Venice drama says a lot to me. Kiki Lane not posting a single thing about this film and the only thing that she did post was today and it was shady as hell and Gemma Chan completely ignoring this film says a lot to me. You have those for that I just mentioned completely ignoring this film and not doing any type of price for it and you have Harry who also has it done any price for this movie besides the Premier and Venice with Gemma. And Chris who obviously tapped out after Venice an Florence Pugh from the jump didn’t wanna do any press. If all of the drama didn’t happen this could’ve been a huge movie for Olivia’s career. The fact that the film itself was underwhelming, the script was changed for the worst and her and Katie Silverman really bombed the script, Olivia had absolutely no idea what she was doing with this film and it really showed and the direction was just off. Harry styles was a miss cast but the underutilization of the women of colour in this film and her white feminist take on all of it but also Cutting the women of colour out of this film to make more room for unnecessary characters like her own character Two playing into the model minority mess and the disrespect of black women which was not a story for her to tell nor was she capable nor was she able to. Not to mention the underutilization of the men of colour in this movie. Say what you want about her and her relationship with hairy Olivia Wilde really fucked up this film. And all of the good parts of this movie or nothing to do with her but to do with the people who made this film what it was the performance of Chris, Florence, drama, and Kiki the cinematography and the costuming. None of the good parts of this movie or a product of Olivia Wilde directing or her as a Director or leader of this film. It is all of the people I just named taking The bad material that they were given and making the most of it. And even if the movie isn’t very good this movie could have had one of the best press runs I have ever seen and also could have done much better at the box office. I just feel like Olivia really fumbled the bag and focussed on things that she shouldn’t have been focussing on and truly did not know what she was doing with this film and it took her a year and a half to edit this movie and the product that we were given was not good and underwhelming. If Florence and Kiki and Gemma and Chris were a part of the promotion for this film it could have been a big win for her. Olivia is the only person who has been promoting this movie and she has only done to talk shows and I don’t think we will see her doing anymore.

i think harry and olivia’s relationship is what first began this shitshow. real or not, i don’t care, it’s unprofessional and granted, made everyone on set uncomfortable and scraped their efforts under the rug with holivia took the wheel with the press and that sucked.

i haven’t seen the movie yet but the reviews have been well as far as i’m seeing, but it definitely could’ve been a hit if it weren’t for all that mess

[sunflowerstache]

Did You Order a Pizza?

Halloween 2020 is filled with lots of surprises for the Styles family

A/N: Hi lovelies! I hope you had. great Halloween and you're feeling alright these days! This is a one shot following the family from my pic Another World, which you can find here! I hope you enjoy it and I cannot wait to hear all your thoughts!! I love y'all!

Word Count: 7.6k

~~~

“And you’re sure he’s back?”

“You heard him on the phone. He’ll be waiting for Jeff so you’ve got plenty of time while he waits for the man to not show up.” Glenne smiled at you from her spot in the driver’s seat. “Although, I think he’ll like who does show up instead.”

Harry had left for Los Angeles so that he could begin filming a new Olivia Wilde film, leaving you and Bella in London. And as much as you’d have loved to join him on such a monumental step in his career from the start, you were unable to travel with him. Not only were you unable because your daughter was still in school at the time, but because of the pandemic that was still going on throughout the world. It prevented for most of the year’s plans to take place, which absolutely crushed Harry. He was looking forward to Love on Tour and showing his fans how much fun this new era was for him, more than you’d seen from him in a long time, but he would always put the safety of his fans before entertainment, so it was an easy choice to postpone. However, no tour meant that he could gladly accept a leading role in a film alongside some of the most well known actors in the industry.

But it only took you a few days after his departure to find out you couldn’t be so far from him. As fate would have it, Bella’s class was turning into online learning once the half term break ended, which meant one of the most important reasons you were still in London had vanished. So, after spending two weeks quarantining and making sure you took all the necessary precautions, both you and Bella got tested and flew to the states with your negative results. From the start, you had told Jeff of your plan and he and Glenne gladly welcomed you into their home once you arrived, wanting to spend time with Bella for a few days after going so long not seeing the toddler. And finally, once you got the negative results of yet another test, you and your daughter were off to stay with Harry.

Jeff had spoken with your boyfriend over FaceTime earlier that morning, feeding Harry some story about needing to solidify some merch designs, and making sure that Harry would be patiently waiting for his manager after he finished filming for the day. But the plan was to have Glenn drive Jeff’s car so he suspected nothing seeing it pull up, and surprise him when it was you and Bella getting out the car instead of the oldest Azoff son.

“I can’t wait.” you groaned out through the grin taking over your face. You bounced in your seat slightly, pressing both hands to your cheeks just thinking about seeing his shocked face when he opened the door expecting Jeff, but seeing you and Bella instead.

“What?” The question was brought up after a soft chuckle was heard from Glenne’s side of the car as soon as you were halted at a stoplight.

“Nothing. It’s just cute how excited you are to see him after being apart for what, a month?”

“27 days.” you whispered, urging yourself to force down a smile. “But who’s counting?”

“You guys have been together nearly a decade, and you still get all flustered when you talk about him.”

The way you and Harry acted around one another was something that was always commented on by people in your inner circle, for that exact reason. Without a doubt, your relationship had gone through some of the toughest times, but that was bound to happen when you’ve been with someone since you were sixteen… and even more likely when every moment of your life was documented to the public. But those tough times never seemed to last, because at the end of the day, Harry was everything you ever wanted and vise versa. He was what you daydreamed about in a partner while growing up. And being with him was like being with the sun. He made you feel loved and cared for, you had more fun with him than anyone else on the planet, and every single day with him felt like a new adventure. As a kid, you’d thought the way people described the love of their life was corny, nothing but a thing of fairy tales, yet that feeling that bloomed inside your chest and tummy every time you thought about Harry told you that it was very real.

“Dunno.” you shrugged, “He’s my person. Even seven and half years later, he still makes me feel like he did on our first date.”

“That what’s got you looking extra glowy or is that just another secret to staying in the honeymoon phase forever?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you replied quickly, finding it hard to keep the giddy feeling that was now bubbling in your lower stomach under control when you turned your head to meet her gaze. She was squinting at you with suspicious eyes, her lips pursed as she bit the inside of her cheek, which forced a laugh to fall from you. “What? I don’t! Just miss him, that’s all. Isn’t that right baby? We just missed daddy loads, huh?” making sure to quickly take the attention away from yourself, you turned as much as you could in your seat to look at Bella in the back.

“Yes! I miss daddy so much!” her little legs kicked against the carseat and her arms lifted high above her head, a huge smile plastered on her face. “I have so many drawings and stickers to show him and Mr. Jeff got new socks!”

“I know, we got them all tucked away nice and safe so you can show him. Do you remember what the plan is when we get there?” you asked her, your breath getting caught in your throat for a moment when the sun shined just right through the rear window. It was a perfect day in LA, sunny and warm and just as the car pulled onto the street you knew was where Harry was staying, the sunlight danced across Bella’s perfect complexion. She was a spitting image of her father, down to the freckles dotting her face, the deep set dimples that never seemed to disappear, and the curls constantly falling in front of her face no matter how hard you tried to keep them tamed. Every now and again you caught a glimpse, sometimes through the kitchen window while she was playing in the backyard and other times while her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she slept on your chest, of just how breathtaking Bella is. What angelic beauty the love between you and Harry had managed to create.

“Yeah mumma!” she smiled, giving you two thumbs up, very clearly excited about getting to see her dad again. “You ‘member my costume, right mumma?”

“Of course I did. Put it in the bag right next to mine.”

“Good. ‘Cause ‘m really ‘cited about it.”

“I know baby. It’s a good one, isn’t it?” you knew Harry would get a kick out of what Bella decided to be for Halloween. She had come to you months ago, actually sat you down in the kitchen and explained what she wanted to do like she was in a little business meeting. And of course as soon as she told you, you had to laugh because it was perfect.

“Yeah.”

Her whisper was the last thing said within the confines of the car before the three of you pulled up in front of a beautiful white house nestled deep in the Hollywood Hills. It was much smaller than the house the pair of you had just sold just blocks away, but everything about it was so much homier. A brick walkway sandwiched between a line of shrubbery and a white stone wall led up to the house, which itself was an odd shape. The very front of the house came up to an asymmetrical point instead of a typical flat roof, and the rest of the house was pushed back slightly, so that none of the face was level, and the house almost seemed cut in half horizontally from the distinct line between white stone bottom and black paneling on the upper level of the home. Finally, a brick downhill driveway, made of the same brick as the walkway, led to an all black garage that sat just below the rest of the home. The small details is what made the building give off such a cozy vibe; a vibrant green front door, plant boxes hanging off a few of the upper windows, a black wooden archway and lanterns surrounding the front door, a few potted plants on the side of the walkway, and the faint golden hues peaking through the closed blinds.

“Cute, huh?” Glenne laughed, putting the car in park and turning fully in her seat to look at you.

“Yeah, it actually really is. Reminds me a bit of our old place.”

“Place in London, right? That’s what I told Jeff.” she said at the same time, looking behind her at Bella while you got out of the car. “You ready to go, tulip?”

“Yes please!”

Her hands were already fumbling with the seat belt by the time you opened her door, the excitement itching at her in preparation for what was to come, but she graciously waited for you to sort her out.

“Thank you mumma.” she muttered casually once you had her unbuckled and lifted into your arms.

“You’re welcome, baby.” the way Bella was the most polite little girl you had ever known never failed to make your heart soar. You and Harry were so proud of the person she was becoming, whether she was that way because she saw how everyone in her life acted or because she was born with the kindest little soul, it didn’t matter. She always made sure the people around her were happy and having fun, constantly reminding people how much she loves them, and trying her hardest to make everyone laugh. It was yet another way she reminded you of Harry; they both could instantly light up a room without even trying. “Just gotta ring the bell, right? Say your line?”

“You got it, mumma!” she smiled brightly, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

Nearly the instant you put her down, she darted up the brick steps, taking a full pause at each step to be her funny self and jump, with both feet together, up to the next one. As she made her way towards the front door, you took your place leaning against the passenger door of Glenne’s car, nearly doubling over in laughter watching Bella look hysterical lifting up on her very tiptoes in order to reach the unusually high doorbell.

Your breath caught in your throat as you waited for Harry to open the front door. For a minute, you were sure that he had ignored Jeff’s instructions to stay home, but to your relief, the green door finally opened, revealing a very comfortable looking Harry. He was very obviously post shower, his hair visibly wet and sparkling when the porch lights lit up his form, clad in a pair of black basketball shorts and one of his grey Treat People With Kindness hoodies, and nothing else but a tall pair of Nike socks. It was like a scene from a movie, because when he didn’t immediately see Jeff in front of him, Harry looked over towards the driveway quickly like he was being pranked. But within a second, his attention was brought down to Bella, who tugged on the hem of his shorts, her sweet voice barely audible from the distance.

“Did you get a pizza?”

It was comical to watch him just stare at her like she had three heads. You couldn’t blame him, last he knew, both you and Bella were five thousand miles away, so it made sense that his brain was not comprehending the scene in front of him.

“He’s so confused.” Glenne giggled behind you, but her voice seemed like it was muted with how fully your focus was on your boyfriend.

“Hmm.”

Not even a second after your hum of agreement, and as if it was in slow motion, you watched as realization glossed over his features, his green eyes widening and mouth hanging open, and he sank to his knees. It didn’t take him even a second to pull Bella into his chest, winding his arms completely around her tiny frame and cradling her head in his surprisingly ring free hands.

Seeing the two of them together was like looking at two halves of the same soul reconnect. The moment they were in one another’s arms, it was like everything got brighter. Their smiles widened, chuckles more audible - even from such a far distance, and the warmth that typically lived in your chest recently, burned even warmer. You always knew Harry was meant to be a dad, just from how much he talked about it. You knew that he would do his very best to go above and beyond for his child, to make sure they felt loved and secure and treasured. But hearing about it and seeing it are completely different. Seeing nothing but total adoration on his face whenever he looked at your daughter made you fall in love with him all over again.

“Mumma!” Bella’s shouted, snapping you out of the daze you had slipped into while watching the moment before you. Both Harry and Bella were now looking at you from the doorway, her head resting on her father’s shoulder as he held her in one arm, their faces totally engulfed with smiles. “C’mere Mumma!”

“Yeah mumma.” Harry finally spoke up, his voice carrying down the pathway right to where you were standing.”C’mere.” Just seeing him standing there, smiling so brightly and holding his free arm out telling you he was waiting for a hug, was enough to make you break out in a smile and push off the car, dashing up the steps.

His chest was firm when you crashed into it, much firmer than when you hugged him goodbye in the airport a few weeks ago, and you felt as if you head placement on his chest was different - like he’d grown since you last saw him. Or maybe he hadn’t changed at all but your mind was finally coming out of a month long fog that it slipped in without him, getting readjusted to being in his arms.

“Hi sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, peppering kisses all along your hairline and temple like he physically couldn’t leave an inch of the side of your face untouched.  

“Hi baby.”

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, pure wonder in his tone as he nudged the side of your face with his chin, making you lift your head from his chest and look at him. “I just talked to you this morning, said you were going to see your parents before everything got locked down again.”

“Yeah, well. I lied.” you smiled, leaning in to press kiss after kiss to his lips, trying your best to control the insane happiness rushing through your veins. Your response seemed to be enough for him, because he didn’t ask another question wondering why you were in LA. Which was good for you because your plan wasn’t to explain everything on the front porch.

The three of you stayed frozen in that same position, Harry’s arm so tight around you that your face was completely buried in his hoodie, and the other arm holding Bella, forming a makeshift group hug, not bothering to worry about anyone seeing you or anything going on past the wooden archway. Because nothing else mattered. Not when you were with the two people who made your world spin.

“Daddy.” Bella’s timid voice finally broke you apart, both you and Harry leaning back a bit so that you could put your full attention on the little girl in his arms.

“Yes lovie?”

“I lied too.”

“What did you lie about?”

She lifted her head from his shoulder in order to look at him with a very concerned expression, like she felt deeply sorry for whatever she was about to say to him. “I don’t have a pizza. ‘M sorry. Mumma told me it was funny.”

“Oh did she now?” Harry mocked in offence, looking back at you and raising his eyebrows.

“Mhm. But it wasn’t, ‘cause we don’t have any.”

“That’s right. But sometimes it’s okay to say something silly like that and not feel bad as long as it’s not something to hurt anyone, right? And daddy isn’t mad. How about you mumma?” Harry looked to you, trying not to smile at how adorable Bella was about the little fib. You shook your head.

“Not at all.”

“And what about you, B.B? Are you sad you told daddy there was pizza?”

She contemplated it for a bit, scrunching her nose up - again, just like her father - and looking around like the answer would be hanging in the air somewhere. “Yeah.” she said matter of factly. “But ‘cause I want pizza. And we don’t have any.”

Both you and Harry couldn’t help the laughs that fell from your lips, wasting no time before leaning forward to press a kiss to Bella’s forehead. “How about we get some then?” he asked against her skin, glancing at you when saying his next bit. “We’ll get your bags from the car and order one?”

“Oh god!” you yelled, turning around to face the car from which you’d just ran from. “Completely forgot Glenne was sitting in there! She’s probably been texting Jeff about how annoying we are.”

“Annoyingly adorable, yeah.”

“Think she’d fight you on that one. Nearly made her sick on the drive here with how excited I was to see you.” your laugh was muffled as Harry wrapped his arm back around your neck, dragging you in a headlock down the first step towards the car. Bella, knowing that it was time to bring in the bags, wiggled out of Harry’s grasp and sprinted down the steps ahead of you, right into the arms of a now out and about Glenne.

“Everything’s alright?” Harry’s voice was laced with concern now that your little one was out of ear shot. You both tried your hardest to never have any sort of talk about negative things around her, whether that be an argument or things going on in life, because she should never have to be put through the stress of that. Most of the time you just waited until she was asleep to talk about those things, but sometimes it meant going into different rooms and closing the doors.

“Hmm?”

“Everything’s alright, right? You didn’t come all the way out here because something’s wrong, did you?” quickly forgotten was your position in a headlock, and instead, Harry kept his arm around your neck, your body fitting perfectly tucked into his side. You walked step by step to meet your friend and daughter, who already started pulling suitcases out of the boot.

You took a peek up to him, noticing he was already glancing down at you, his eyes roaming all over your face to look for any sign of distress that he may have missed when he first saw you. But you had none to offer him. “Yeah baby, everything’s okay. Just needed to be with you.”

“Swear? You’d tell me if there was something?”

“Of course I would. Always.”

“Alright, professor. But if I find out you were hiding something, I’ll have to write a diss track.”

“Oh will you now?”

“Mhm. Thems the rules.”

Glenne spent a bit of time with the three of you before heading off, telling you to enjoy your time together and even throwing in a little joke about maybe even making a new baby since she missed how little Bella used to be. The comment made your ears warm and a weird feeling flutter through your stomach, but she gave you no time to respond before she shuffled out the door.

Since arriving at Harry’s, Bella practically refused to leave his arms, wanting to be as close to him as possible until she really realized that no one was going anywhere for quite a bit. And her thoughts must have quieted enough because not even twenty minutes after Glenne walked out the front door, Bella was running through the house towards one of the extra rooms she’d be sleeping in.

“Mumma! Come help me! We gotta show daddy!” her already soft voice was even soft as she yelled from the second floor, her request forcing you to get up from the sofa.

“What are we showing me?”

“She’s really proud of her Halloween costume this year. Spent weeks planning it out, you know?”

“I know. She wouldn’t budge anytime I asked her. Very secretive that one.”

“Hmm, wonder where she gets that from?” you sang while walking up the stairs, letting out a snort when you saw him lift a middle finger to you from his position still on the sofa, not even bothering to turn around to look at you as you continued towards your daughter.

“Alright baby, I’m here! Where do you want me?” you clapped, entering Bella’s room in a way that mimicked that of Harry Lambert, something that you knew she’d recognize right away from the amount of times she’s seen her parents being helped by the stylist.

“Over here, mumma. Gotta help me button!” she had already rid herself of the clothes she’d been wearing on the drive to Harry’s, the green long sleeve shirt and jeans laid in a crumpled mess at the foot of the bed while she stood in just her knickers, searching through the small suitcase on her bed for all the pieces to her costume.

You took a seat on the floor next to where she was standing, watching her every move as she finally found everything she was looking for. Her tongue stuck out while she took the fabric between her fingers and gently held it in her hands - taking a moment to look at it in awe - before turning and holding it out to you, expectantly.

“Gotta be careful with it, mumma.”

“Oh I know. They’re really delicate, aren’t they?”

“Mhm. Reedy told me to be gentle with ‘em ‘cause they were made with extra love so they’re extra soft.”

“Oh that’s perfect! They’ll be on for quite a while so it’s good that it’s all comfortable.”

“Yep.”

You look notice of how long her hair had grown while zipping up the back of her shirt, the curls continuously falling against your fingers despite being held over her shoulder by Bella. You knew well enough even before she was born that she was going to have gorgeous hair, all it took was one look at the locks cascading from her father to tell you that, but it seemed to grow even more mesmerizing by the day. It fell loose past her shoulders every day, always managing to fall in front of her eyes while she was sprawled out on the floor playing. Even though you did enjoy how cute she looked pushing the crazy curls out of her face while her little tongue stuck out, you knew it was time for a trim soon.

“Are you wanting a haircut soon?” you asked while zipping her pants as well.

“Hmm, I don’t think so. I like it long.”

“How about we see if we can get rid of some of these dry bits at least?”

Bella thought about it for a bit, picking at her nails while mulling over the idea of going back to the salon. “Yeah, I think that’s fine.”

“Alright, we’ll see about making an appointment when we get back home. Gives you some time to think it over.”

“Okay! Y’almost done mumma? ‘M excited.” she bounced in place, trying her best not to move so that you could finish getting her ready as fast as possible.

“All set!” you checked, reaching up to grab her hair out of her grasp and let it fall down her back. “Just put the jacket on and you’re all set to show daddy.”

“He’s gonna be so happy I know it!” she squealed, carefully picking up and putting on the final part to her costume and turning to look in the floor length mirror. Bella didn’t say anything for a minute, taking the time to examine herself in the mirror. She smoothed the fabric covering her torso, lifted her feet in order to see the little pair of boots, and had one of the largest smiles you’d ever seen on her. “I look so good!”

“You do, lovie! Award winning I’d say.”

“Thank you for helping! Lets go!!” she yelled, darting towards the door and only stopping at the top of the stairs when you called for her, reminding her to be careful by the steps. The two of you quickly discussed your plan before departing ways, leaving Bella a bouncing mess just above you as you walked down to the light switch at the bottom of the steps.

Flicking all the lights off, you cleared your throat and waited for Harry, who had gotten up off the sofa upon hearing your descending footsteps and was now leaning against the back of the furniture, his bum resting just on top of the back, to give you his full attention. Although the lights were off, it was still early enough in the evening that light showed through the windows, allowing you to see his face and make sure Bella got down the stairs safely.

“You all know him as 2013’s Teen Choice Male Hottie -”

“Also 2016.” Harry cut in, trying and failing to stifle his chuckle

“Also 2016’s” you added, “and lead roles in Award Winning pictures such as This Is Us and iCarly.” at this point, it was obvious what was happening and you could tell Harry was fully on board with what was about to walk down the stairs. But he was also so excited. He no longer was leaning against the sofa, but now standing upright and his hands were pressed together in a praying position in front of his mouth. “Introducing, the incredibly talented, musically gifted, style icon of the decade, Mr. Harry Edward Styles!”

The second you saw that Bella made it safely to the ground next to you, you flicked on the dim lights that just illuminated the staircase, showering your daughter in the closest thing you could get to a spotlight. She was standing in Harry’s signature position; bent forward slightly with one hand held in a peace sign while the other dangled loosely by her side and mouth open wide. Harris Reed had taken the time to make Bella a nearly exact replica of the white and black floral suit Harry had worn to the 2015 AMA’s - the suit that really started it all when it came to Styles’ fashion. Her curls were hanging past her shoulders just like Harry’s were at the time, and for good measure, she even lifted her hand to push some out of her face exactly like he used to.

She was a spitting image of Harry. And he loved it.

“Oh my god! You’re kidding! You look fantastic! Gonna put me out of a job! I won’t even need to go on stage anymore. This is amazing!” he screeched, rushing forwards and couching down in front of his daughter. He took in every last detail of the outfit; how the under shirt had buttons but did not open from the front (something Harris thought would be easier for Bella to get in and out of), how the floral detail was exactly the same as the one he had hanging in his closet back home (Reed had asked Alessandro for the fabric), and how even the shoes were a near replica.

“Mhm. I can sing next time. I’ll go up and sing to your friends and you can sit and watch and talk to Mitchy.” she nodded, taking a step back and belting out ‘You’re so Golden!’ “See? Like that!”

Harry beamed. “Absolutely! Give me a nice break every now and again, very thoughtful. We’ll just have to change your bedtime and it’s all set!”

“You like it, daddy?” she asked, her eyes wide as she moved right in front of Harry, her hands grasping the hood of his hoodie and she looked directly into his eyes.

“I love it - and you - more than there are stars in the sky!” Harry responded without hesitation, grabbing her and lifting her into his arms, swinging Bella around quickly enough to let a few giggles. “Thank you very much, beautiful, it makes me very happy.”

“Can’t believe you wanted to be your smelly old dad.” he joked when she pushed against his chest to look at him, “See me everyday, why’d you wanna dress up like me too?

“‘Cause you dress the best, daddy!”

“Ohhhh hear that, love?” he turned to look directly at you, Bella now hiding her face in her hands in embarrassment on saying her dad dressed better than her mum. “I’m the best dressed.” Harry stuck his tongue out at you.

The reaction from Harry was everything Bella was expecting and more. So much so that she could no longer fight the exhaustion of the hectic day any longer. She barely made it five minutes in Harry’s arms before finally passing out. In the coming December, she’d be turning five and you were trying to start and wean her off of taking long naps, but after such an energetic day you welcomed the time for her to rest. She put up a fight getting out of Harry’s arms, the arm she had shoved into Harry’s hood in order to thread her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, tightened each time he tried to pull her away to lay her in bed. Like even in her unconscious state she wanted to know that seeing Harry again wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

It was heavenly to be back with Harry. Even though you had only been apart for such a short amount of time, there was so much to catch up on, and you would never get tired of hearing about everything going on in his life.

“And they used this stuff called Dermacol, and I swear, she swiped over it once and the anchor was gone. Bloody insane seeing it all bare. Hasn’t been that year in years.” Harry laughed, finishing his story of how his first few days on set had gone, the two of you laying in his bed while you waited for the pizza you ordered while he put Bella down for a nap.

“Don’t wash it off tomorrow. I want to see.” you tilted your head back so that it was resting on Harry’s shoulder, in order to look at him. He was sitting behind you, his back pressed against the headboard while you were nestled between his legs, enjoying the feeling of being so close to him again. “Forget what you look like without any ink.”

“Like them though, right?”

“Of course I do. Think they’re very hot.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit, just let his fingers dance up and down your arms, clearly lost in thought. “I wish you could come to set. See everything and everyone.” he finally spoke.

“I know. I just don’t want to chance anything you know? We just traveled and I know we got tested, but I don’t want to unknowingly bring anything to anyone. Maybe soon, once we’ve been here for a bit. But for now, I’d rather just hear all your stories and FaceTime than anything happen to anyone.”

“What time is your call time tomorrow?” you added when he only hummed in response.

“6:45. Car will probably come by around 6 and I should be back near 2. Have a bit of a short day tomorrow.”

“No rush.”

“Yes rush. I wanna be with you both. Missed you loads, ya know? Only gone for a few weeks but I was going mad. Don’t think we should separate for a while.” his voice was soft as his neck strained forward in order to press loving kisses to the soft skin where your neck met your shoulder.

Since the moment you met Harry a decade ago, it was obvious he always knew what to say. He had a knack for spewing out the words you most needed to hear exactly when you needed to hear them. Whether it was comforting your stage fright, in an argument about tv or film characters, helping you pick out outfits, discussing your relationship, or talking about the future, you both seemed to be on the same wavelength. It made life with him so much easier, because you knew that he understood you. You knew that no matter what happened, he would support you and love you. And that’s all you needed.

So you decided finally, after the pit of anxiety in your stomach grew and grew all day, that it was finally time.

“Pretty good you feel that way. ‘Cause I wasn’t exactly sure how to tell you that you’re kind of stuck with me. At least for another fourteen years.”

“Hmm. Want more than that.”

Taking a deep breath, hands shaking and mind running a mile a minute, you asked; “How about another eighteen after that?”

But your nerves were all for nothing because the comment flew right over Harry’s head. Completely missed the point of why you used that specific amount of time and was more focused on giving your middle a tight squeeze - his arms moving from their place at your side to around your stomach.

“Mhm. Even longer than that.”

The words brought an image to mind, one you found yourself thinking about a lot the last couple weeks. One of you and Harry sitting in the living room in your home, talking to your grown children while your grandchildren ran around you happily, doing their best to animatedly explain ways of the world you just couldn’t comprehend. And the pure glee you felt being surrounded by such a beautiful family, one that you created with Harry. But you knew it wasn’t just some fantasy you would dream about. It was something that you would one day get to experience, and that excitement pushed you over the edge.

“You’re stuck with me forever, baby.” you hummed, sinking further into his hold. “But for five seconds, I need you to leave me so you can grab me a Tums.” the anxiety nerves reared their head yet again, knowing there was no missing the punchline this time.

Concern instantly flooded his voice, taking you by the shoulders and moving you away from his chest and to the right so he could look at your face. “Why? You feeling alright? What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t help but simple sweetly at his concern, lifting a hand to rest it on his smoothly clean shaven cheek. “Yeah. You know how I get after flying. Do you mind just grabbing the Tums from my bag?” you asked again, hoping he couldn’t hear or feel the uptick in your breathing.

“You mean one of the nine hundred bags you brought?” Harry joked but still carefully slid out from behind you in order to get whatever you needed.

“Hey, we’re gonna be here a while. I need options.” Because of Covid, the UK was heading into yet another lockdown at the start of November, lasting until the first week of December so for now, so for now, you knew you and Bella would be spending at least a month with Harry in Los Angeles.

“Can take any of my clothes.” he grinned, turning around to face the bed again and bent down to kiss the tip of your nose. “Y’know I love when you wear my clothes.”

“Oi! Say that again but let me record it! If that’s the case, I never want to hear you complain about missing clothes ever again!”

“I said I like you wearing them, not keeping them hidden away for me to find three years later.” he laughed at the memory of his favorite blue hawaiian shirt going missing after getting back from Jamaica, only for it to be found in the back of your closet when moving a few months ago. His voice got quieter the farther he walked from the bed, the confines of the walk in closet filled with his clothes muffling the words towards the end of his sentence.

“Alright, but remember how excited you were to find it after so long? Like Christmas in the summer!”

“‘S’that what’s gonna start happening? You just stealing things I haven’t looked at in years and regifting them?”

“Lord knows you don’t need any more things laying around. Probably wouldn’t even notice anything being gone.” it was true. Over the years, Harry had gathered a very large collection of… things. Everything from clothes to lockets to key cards from hotels, and being in the career he is, he can afford to have it all. But even you had to say he had more than he knew what to do with most of the time, to which he always had some sort of rebuttal for.

But this time, it never came.

This time, you were met with silence from inside the closet, and you had no control over the way your hands began shaking. There were so many different kinds of silence; one of anger, of shock, nervousness, confusion, but any of those were a rarity when it came to Harry. He was someone who always had something to say, despite the emotions running through him. Silence was never really his thing, hell he even said so in a song, so the ideas of what could be running through his head started to eat you alive.

After waiting a few minutes and still receiving no sound of life from the smaller room, you began to get worried. Obviously nothing had happened to him while you were sitting feet away, but what was happening in there? Did he have a heart attack as soon as saw what you had laid out on top of your suitcase when he was ordering food? Did he fall and hit his head? Was he trying to find a good way to break up with you? No, he wouldn’t do that, you knew he wouldn’t do that. But before you could fully get off of the bed to check on him, he slowly sauntered out of the room, staring down at the piece of black fabric gripped tightly in his hands, and you halted in your spot - sitting up right on the side of his bed with your feet dangling off the side.

“Wha - what is this?” his whisper was so unbelievably low, you were surprised you could make out any of the words.

“What do you think it is?” you replied, your voice equally as loud so not to spook him while he was in such a clear state of shock.

“I - I don’t know.”

He still had taken his eyes off of the material in his hands, looking at it like it held every secret unknown to man somewhere within its seams.

“I think you do know.”

Finally, Harry lifted his head in order to look at you. And you felt your eyes water as soon as he did. The rims of his eyes and nose were a deep red, the kind of red you get when trying desperately to hold in sobs. His eyes were a brighter shade of green as more and more tears obstructed his vision, and now that you looked at him properly, his entire body seemed to be shaking.

“If this is a joke, it’s really fucking mean.” he choked out, putting all of his effort into holding back his cries. “Please don’t joke about this.”

As hard as he was trying not to let his tears flow, you were beyond the point of no return. Your cheeks were stained with tears, old dried ones leaving tracks for the new ones to flow freely down, and the lump in your throat prevented you from speaking as loud and confidently as you would have liked.

“It’s not a joke, Harry.” you shook your head, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands.

“No?”

“No.”

Harry went back to not saying anything, glancing between you and the black in his hand, not knowing which held more important information. You could see the inner struggle he was having trying to comprehend what was happening, and you wanted to get up and yell it to him. But he needed to go through whatever emotions he needed to, at his own pace.

So you waited for him to do just that.

“So you - you’re pregnant?” he finally sighed, the question making the corners of his lips lift ever so slightly that you would have missed it if you weren’t watching every inch of his face like a hawk. Holding back his tears was long gone as they now flowed down his cleanly shaven cheeks.

“I’m pregnant.” you smiled, the words coming out in one whoosh of air.

So fast that you didn’t understand how he did it, the black shirt - that at first glance was a replica of the logo for the film The Godfather, but when taking a double take, could be found to read The Twinfather instead - was laying in a pile on the floor in front of the closet door and Harry was laying on top of you. Now on your back with Harry hovering above you, both of his forearms on either side of your head, you could fully see the overwhelming joy swimming in his eyes. The last time you had seen this exact look was the day Bella was born. Like within his mind, he was watching the entire world unfold with endless possibilities and unfathomable love.

Harry didn’t let you say anything before he was pressing kisses to your lips, both of your tears making the experience feel a bit slippery as they blended together on your skin. But nothing could make the moment anything less than perfect. Harry’s warmth covered you like a blanket, completely consuming you within the personal bubble that had formed around you on the bed. His lips moved against your with determination, but also care and gratitude, the vaguely strawberry flavored lip balm he was wearing smeared against your own lips, letting the memory of this moment linger for hours to come.

“You’re really pregnant?” Harry asked, his excitement taking over once he pulled back from the kiss.

“Yeah baby,’m pregnant.”

“And is it? It’s - it’s twins? Are you sure? How do you know?” although you knew he would always be there with and for you during all of this, it was reassuring to see him be so ecstatic about the new addition to your family.

“When B and I went to get our Covid tests, the lady asked me if there was a chance I could be pregnant, and - and I couldn’t give her a confident no. So I called Dr. Kelter to see if I could get an appointment before we left and she took me the same day.” your smile grew as you watched him hold on to your every word, wanting to know every single detail you had to give him.

“And she told you it was twins?”

“Yeah. Said she could see them both right away since they can see twins so early. Said ‘m about eleven weeks.” the tears returned to your eyes when you thought about being pregnant again, how much your life was going to change and the excitement that was about to be brought into your lives.

Obviously Harry was feeling the same before he let out another sob, this time his upper half falling onto your chest and burying his face in your neck, his lower body seeming to unconsciously stay away from crushing your belly.

“I love you so fucking much.” he whispered, and you could feel the ever so gentle peck of his lips against your skin. “So fucking much.”

“I love you, Harry.” you whispered back.

“Who knows?” he asked, undoubtedly thinking back to when you were pregnant with Bella and everyone in your lives seemed to know before he did. Something you regretted, but was necessary at the time.

“No one. Just you and me. Want to do everything with you this time.” not wanting to ruin the moment, but also wanting to be realistic for a moment in your clouded minds, you took a second to figure out how to say the concerns that were rushing through your mind at a mile a minute. “I know things are crazy right now and the world is scary and we’re both so busy, but we said if it happened, it happened.”

Harry was pushed up on his forearm in an instant, his other hand cupping your cheek in order to drag your attention to him. He was positively glowing. How only a second ago he was standing pale faced in the closet doorway was beyond you, because now, it was like the sun shined behind his irises.

“I have never been happier in my entire life. We’ll figure it all out together. Like we always do.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #another world imagine #aw-inspo #harry styles fanfiction #1dff

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 6: Next

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~5500

Rating: PG-13 (rare language)

Summary: Eighteen hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: Sorry again for the delay on this one! I know PB has basically turned the laws of Cordonia into whatever they need them to be for plot reasons, but that’s not sufficient for me, so I am trying to construct some sort of framework based on what we know from TRM, ROE, and TRR/TRH. We’ll see how it goes...

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

“Riley… Hey, Riley.”

Riley’s eyes fluttered open as she felt a hand on her shoulder and heard Drake whispering her name, tugging her awake. It took her a few seconds to place herself as she glanced around the room. She reached for the nightstand with a fumbling hand before she remembered she didn’t have her glasses. She squinted at Drake. Thankfully, he’d crouched down in front of her, so he was at least in focus, even if the rest of the hotel room was a giant blur. 

“Is everything okay?”

Drake nodded, running a hand over his chin. He was already showered, shaved, and dressed in a grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans. “I am going to go to the bakery across the street and see if any of the locals can point me towards a cheap, used car dealership.”

“Okay. I don’t think I’m going to be much help.” She’d always meant to learn Greek since moving to Cordonia, but she’d only ever gotten around to learning a handful of words. After all, official court business was always conducted in English, and most of the citizens of Valtoria were bilingual, so there had never really been a need. Until now apparently. It’s not that no one in Ioannina spoke English, but it wasn’t as common as she was used to. Even last night, she’d been utterly dependent on Drake to discuss what they needed in a hotel room with the man at the front desk.

“Yeah, that’s why I thought you might want to just stay here with Bridget.” At his statement, they both instinctively looked down at their daughter, still sleeping soundly along Riley’s side. Riley knew it wasn’t ideal that they decided to let her sleep in the same bed with them last night, but they didn’t really have any other options when the hotel employee told Drake there were no cribs available. And truth be told, Riley hadn’t wanted to let Bridget leave her side. Things were still too raw, too fresh.

“You don’t want me to come along?” 

Drake shook his head slowly as he gently placed a hand on Bridget’s head. “I just figured it might be nice for her to be able to crawl and play and all that. Try and make things a little more normal for her, I guess.”

He did have a point. Normally, Bridget was able to crawl around and explore while they were taking meetings at Valtoria. Even on days where they had to go to the palace, one of them usually stuck with Bridget in her room there while the other handled all the official business. And Bridget was definitely at an age where she wanted to move about her environment. She didn’t like being restrained for too long.

“Okay. So you’re just going to get us a car then?”

He paused for a moment. “I think we need more than a car, Riley. I’m gonna try and find somewhere that sells outdoor supplies and camping gear. Plus a travel crib and a car seat for her. Maybe some toys, too.”

“You think we’re going to have to camp out to stay safe?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I would rather have a tent and some sleeping bags and not need them than have to panic and hide out with nothing.”

She swallowed roughly before she responded, staring down at their daughter, still passed out and oblivious to everything that had transpired in the past day. “How bad do you think things are going to get for us, Drake?”

He didn’t answer her right away, so after a few seconds she looked up and found him staring at her intently. “I have no idea. This will probably all just be a wild story if Liam keeps his title, but if Barthelemy succeeds… fuck, Riley. Every law enforcement agent in the EU will have the right to arrest us for kidnapping and send us back.”

“This is insanity. She’s our kid. Why would other countries recognize us traveling with her as a kidnapping?”

There was another pause as Drake glanced down, staring at the floor. “Because she’s Cordonia’s kid before she’s our kid. And kidnapping is one of the crimes that doesn’t require criminality verification in the arresting country under a European Arrest Warrant.” She just stared at him, wondering why this was yet another piece of random trivia he knew. As if he could read her thoughts, he glanced up and continued, “I did some research when I couldn’t sleep last night.” 

“So another country would really just send us back for taking her out of Cordonia?”

“She’s legally Cordonia’s child.”

Riley sighed, trying to keep tears of frustration from forming. She’d cried enough yesterday, she didn’t need Drake thinking she wasn’t up to this again. But it just was a shitty situation. One they never should have been in at all.

“It’s not right, Drake.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s a little late to change that fact now.”

A wave of guilt washed over Riley as his words hung in the air. She could have put a stop to this bullshit long ago. She should have put a stop to it. And now everything was teetering on the edge of disaster. But she had to get a grip. She was not going to be an emotional mess today. So she took one last deep breath before responding to Drake.

“I think your plan makes sense. Can you stay with her while I get cleaned up before you go?”

Drake frowned just slightly, clearly wondering about the slight redirection of their conversation, but he nodded slowly, scooping up Bridget laying her across his chest as he settled down on top of the covers while Riley dug through the bag of clothing, trying to find something to wear.

As she showered, the lukewarm-at-best water pelting over her hair and skin, she tried to keep her thoughts from spiraling. Things were bad, but they could have been worse. They were together. They were able to withdraw money yesterday, so their accounts weren’t frozen yet. And they had some of their basic needs covered, thanks to Ray.

Ray had bought them several changes of clothing, some basic toiletries, more diapers and formula, and a few days of food before returning to Cordonia. He hadn’t let them pay for any of it, which was far too kind considering they’d lied to him and possibly made him an accessory to kidnapping. But he’d remained helpful and unfazed when they’d confessed that Lythikos was supposed to be their destination, not Greece. And he’d gotten them fairly well set up before he got back in the town car to return to Cordonia, a much appreciated kindness.

She wondered how things had gone when he spoke to Olivia, how pissed off she was about it all. Olivia hadn’t called them since they told her they were committed to staying away from Cordonia, so Riley had no idea how she was handling everything or how the hearing went. Hana had called again last night. She was alone at their home, trying to pack up a few of their personal belongings in hopes of getting them to them at some point if needed. She’d been kind and gentle, asking if there were certain items of clothing or specific toys that should be a priority. Riley didn’t know how Hana intended to get those belongings to them, but it was a sweet gesture. Even though she knew Hana wished they’d stayed in Cordonia, she felt grateful that her friend was trying to help them, even if she disagreed with Riley’s actions.

So there were some silver linings. But overall, things felt overwhelming and out of control. Riley had known somewhere in her mind that things were going to be horrible and stressful and mad difficult when she’d decided to get Bridget out of Cordonia as quickly as possible yesterday. But after a little sleep - admittedly very little given how upset she was about everything - things felt like they could quickly become insurmountable. 

But she just couldn’t bring herself to head back for Cordonia. No matter how many worries she had about how the three of them were going to get through things going forward, there was a better chance of them being together through it all outside that country, and she just felt safer, knowing there would at least be more difficulties for Barthelemy and any of his posse to get their hands on her daughter. Nothing about Cordonia was safe. And while she wished she’d been able to recognize that earlier, she couldn’t go back now. Not when it finally felt like her eyes were open. 

Stepping out of the shower, she quickly dressed and ran a comb through her hair, brushing her teeth and popping in her contacts before leaving the bathroom. She heard Bridget’s giggles and babbles right away. Turning into the main part of the small hotel room, she saw Drake sitting on the edge of the bed, bouncing Bridget on his knees as he held her in a standing position. She loved being stood upright like that, and it seemed like she’d be pulling up to stand on her own any day now.

When Drake saw Riley, he scooped Bridget into his arms and scooted off the bed. “She only woke up about 10 minutes ago. I can feed her before I head out if you want.”

“No, I’ve got it,” Riley said with a little shake of her head, taking Bridget as she got out a bottle, the formula, and a bottle of water. She was a bit surprised to see Drake digging through the diaper bag, pulling out all the money they’d managed to withdraw from their accounts yesterday. They’d both hemmed and hawed about pulling funds from the accounts tied to Valtoria, but eventually decided on doing it. After all, compared to kidnapping and treason, embezzlement charges were really just a drop in the ocean.

“You’re taking all the cash?”

“We haven’t heard from Olivia or Hana since last evening. Either things are still in progress, or they can’t safely get in touch with us. If it’s the latter, our accounts might be frozen now. I need to be prepared.”

Riley didn’t like the thought of being left without any money, even if she knew Drake was right. It left her feeling vulnerable, or rather even more vulnerable. She couldn’t help it, and a small, shaky little sigh escaped.

Drake pivoted to look at her, his eyes intense. “I’m trusting you not to take off with my kid while I’m gone. It seems like the least you could do is trust me not to take off with the money.”

There was just a hint of bitterness in his voice, but mostly he just sounded tired. Riley knew she was being callous with him. It was just hard to not let all her fears and worries spill over into everything she did and said at this point.

“You’re right; I’m sorry,” she said as she shook up the bottle of formula.

Drake let out a sigh, tucked the money in his wallet, and dropped a kiss on both her and Bridget’s foreheads. “Hopefully, I’ll be back in a few hours. Call if you need me, okay?”

She nodded and gave him a small little smile, but then he was off, hopefully to pull more cash and to get them some transportation. It was just her and Bridget, and even though that was her initial plan yesterday, it felt very lonely at the moment.

“Oh, Peanut. Mama has turned Daddy into a fugitive,” she cooed, giving Bridget the bottle. Figuring she should probably put this time to good use, she grabbed her phone quickly while Bridget actually had a good grasp on the bottle and sat down on the end of the bed, pulling up “How to run from law enforcement” as a search. At this point, they were going to be able to trace their ATM withdrawals anyway. If they somehow got ahold of her digital records from this phone, well, this search wouldn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know. Better to be at least a little prepared when Drake got back and they had to plan their next steps.

After reading for a few minutes, Riley swiped open her contacts list and tapped Drake’s name at the top of her favorites list. He answered almost instantly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, we’re fine. I just have something else you should buy.”

“What?”

“Burner phones.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost like deja vu, sitting in the same seat in the same courtroom as once again everyone rose to their feet except Barthelemy and himself. This time, Liam knew that staying seated would probably not be an option when the justice left the courtroom. He probably should have risen now, to be honest. The no-confidence vote that happened this morning was almost certainly going to stand. But Liam wasn’t ready to look defeated. He would wait until this hearing concluded before deferring and recognizing that anyone else might hold the power of the crown. 

The parties present today were almost identical to last night, with the addition of Hakim and Kiara on Barthelemy’s side and Hana on his. Normally, a different High Court justice would have been assigned since High Justice Questa had literally just ruled on an emergency hearing, but given that the same parties were named, she had volunteered to see this through. The usher waited until she sat down before once again announcing that all parties had been sworn in. As soon as he was finished, the justice looked from desk to desk, annoyance clearly written all over her face. It wasn’t surprising, but it didn’t bode well for either legal team. 

“Not even 24 hours later, gentlemen? You really are determined to not let me have my weekend, aren’t you?” High Justice Questa said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “Did we manage to actually legally call the Conventus Nobilis today? It looks like it was all in order based on this documentation from both parties,” she said as she flipped through stacks of paper, “a no-confidence vote that passed with a margin of three to two and installed the patriarch of House Beaumont as king-regent, so I’m not sure what your case is, Mr. Rys.”

Liam fought to keep his face steady. He’d been expecting it, mentally preparing for it, but hearing his surname used instead of his title, a surname that he almost never had needed in his life still burned inside him, a deep pain and sense of failure, both on a personal and public level.

“Your Honor, my client is not challenging the loss of his power. He is now acting as a concerned citizen who believes that the transfer of power to the defendant was illegally performed,” Diana stated calmly as she rose and leaned in to the microphone.

“A concerned citizen? Right, I’m sure that’s his only motivation. Regardless, the brief you submitted is compelling. There obviously isn’t a large amount of precedent for me to base my decision on, so I am going to carefully listen to oral arguments to supplement and clarify the briefs both parties submitted. Additionally, depending on the intricacies of how different historical and modern laws intersect with this… unusual combination of circumstances, I may just offer a provisional ruling with a formal hearing scheduled in front of the full High Court as soon as possible if I feel this is too complex and unprecedented to be decided by just myself. Do both parties understand?”

Both Diana and Charles acknowledged her statement, then Diana delved into her arguments.

“Your Honor, if a reigning monarch is removed from the throne, the law clearly states that next in line for the throne should assume a role of king- or queen-regent until a Conclave can be held, at which time the major noble houses will determine the new royal line. Additionally, Cordonian law states that any direct heirs to the throne who have not come of age should have at least two regents recorded in case of their ascension to the throne before they reach adulthood. Given that these two laws are clear, I do not believe that the results of the Conventus Nobilis vote can legally do any more than remove my client from power. The major houses do not have the power to name anyone they’d like as regent.

“Bridget Walker is the clear queen-regent at this point, Your Honor, and the documentation submitted with her anointing named the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria as her regents. Therefore, it is our contention that one of them should serve as regent until a Conclave can legally occur. It seems like the most logical conclusion from the laws on file.”

“The issue, Diana, is that both the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria were named in the no-confidence vote as well. At least, that’s what I assume you are going to tell me, Charles,” High Justice Questa said as she turned slightly in her chair to face the defense desk.

“Indeed, Your Honor. The results of that vote clearly indicate that the majority of the major noble houses fear for our country’s well-being and prosperity if either of the Walkers are allowed to serve this country as regent. My client has graciously offered to step into that role, seeing as the Duchess of Valtoria was sponsored by House Beaumont and is therefore an honorary member.”

“Your issue, Charles, is that your client can’t legally do that,” High Justice Questa added, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows. The fact that she was tearing through Barthelemy’s team’s arguments just as quickly as she had their own was a small reassurance. 

“He may have offered his services, but the majority of the noble houses support his regency as well.”

“Yes, but they don’t have that power either. They only get to name a new monarch, acting or otherwise, during a Conclave. And the vote today was not a Conclave, was it Charles?”

“No, Your Honor. A Conclave has to occur at the end of a Social Season.”

“Exactly. The regents for an heir who is too young to rule are decided by the reigning monarch at the time of the heir’s anointment, not by anyone else. In this case, since our new Queen-Regent was not born into the royal bloodline, but established in her position via Royal Decree, it is a noted precedent to allow the child’s parents to have a say in who is named as his or her regents. Why your client has decided he can just sidestep all of that is concerning. He’s claimed the power of the law for himself while being ignorant of our country’s laws at best, or with a willful disregard for them at worst. And quite frankly, the fact that the actual head of House Beaumont, his elder son, voted against him is not exactly a ringing endorsement.”

“Your Honor, someone needs to act as Queen-Regent Bridget’s regent!”

“Indeed, but not your client. The High Court does not recognize Lord Beaumont as acting regent at this time. Now, Diana,” High Justice Questa continued, not missing a beat, “your client was the reigning monarch at the time of Queen-Regent Bridget’s anointing. I see in your briefs that he has offered up two alternative regents for Queen-Regent Bridget - Lady Hana Lee or Lord Maxwell Beaumont.”

This had been part of their strategy, devised wearily sometime after 2 am and numerous cups of coffee. Since it was unlikely that the no-confidence vote was going to go their way, Diana had suggested naming alternate regents for Bridget, ones that would both be more sympathetic to his cause and that would be believable as alternate choices from Drake and Riley. Picking Hana and Maxwell had been the obvious choice.

“Your Honor!” Charles called out upon hearing those names, but he immediately quieted and sat back down when High Justice Questa raised her hand. She nodded at Diana, indicating she should continue in spite of the outburst from the opposing legal team.

“Yes, Your Honor. They are Queen-Regent Bridget’s godparents, indicating that the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria would have approved of either of them for this role, and my client is in total agreement.”

The justice didn’t respond immediately, but started flipping through a briefing, skimming a section when she arrived at the part she clearly wanted to discuss. Liam knew this was going to be their largest issue. They’d attempted to word the briefing carefully, not making it immediately apparent that Drake and Riley hadn’t actually been involved with the decision to name Hana and Maxwell up as alternative regents. But Questa was quick, and she had a great mind for details. The fact that this was the point in the hearing that she was explicitly referencing the text did not bode well for them.

“Diana, I’m looking at your wording here, where you mention your client’s reasoning for naming those two as possibilities for this role. Neither in your statement just now nor in this document do you ever quote the Walkers to indicate their approval. Is there a reason for this?”

Diana tried to be subtle, but Liam noticed her taking a deep breath before she responded, “Your Honor, we didn’t have a chance to speak to them directly. However, their-”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You didn’t have a chance to talk to them? Really?” Whatever scorn Questa held for Barthelemy, Liam felt it directed his way now, but at least doubled or tripled. She’d seen right through their little bluff.

“Everything has been so rushed, Your Honor,” Diana tried to justify, but Liam knew there was no salvaging this situation at this point.

“It seems like talking to the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria should have been high on your priority list to me. Common sense would indicate that if your argument was that those two individuals, in addition to your client, are responsible for naming a regent, actually getting them to name a regent would be pretty important to your case. So tell me, why haven’t you spoken to them regarding this matter? In fact, why aren’t they here in person? Last night I figured they had already put their daughter to sleep and were reluctant to leave her, but it’s-” she glanced quickly at her watch “-not even 5 pm. This seems like an important hearing for their family.”

“I haven’t been able to get in touch with them, Your Honor.”

High Justice Questa’s shoulders sagged slightly before she asked the question Liam was dreading. “Does your client even know their location at this time?”

Diana leaned over to him and whispered, “How do you want to play this, sir?”

He’d pulled Diana aside last night and informed her that Drake, Riley, and Bridget had likely fled the country, and that he had been choosing to stay ignorant of any information that would confirm that fact. She’d encouraged him to report his suspicions officially right then, insisting that he was her client, not them, but Liam didn’t feel throwing them to the wolves was the correct call.  He was frustrated and personally hurt, but he knew there was no malice behind their actions. Besides, it wasn’t likely to improve his situation. So, he’d insisted on sticking to his technical ignorance then, and he had no intention of deviating from that plan now.

“As we discussed, Diana”

With a little nod, she returned to her microphone. “He believes that they headed to Lythikos at the invitation of Duchess Nevrakis for some privacy, but he hasn’t spoken to them since they were on the road.”

Questa’s reaction was immediate, her eyes closing and a hand rubbing roughly over them. She looked completely done with the actions of everyone in the room. Liam honestly couldn’t blame her. He was well aware that from an outside perspective, both he and Barthelemy looked like bumbling fools at the moment. On the other side of the courtroom, Liam noticed significant whispering and chatter. Clearly, Barthelemy’s camp was speculating on what that statement meant. 

“Well, you all have decided to make this as messy as possible, haven’t you?” High Justice Questa mused to the room, interrupting all the side conversations. “Alright, this is what we’re going to do. I’m calling a recess until tomorrow at 9 am to allow the prosecution time to produce the Walkers. No statements, no hearsay, no speculation, they will be here in my court. If they are not present, sanctions will be issued, and the standing of their house and titles will be subject to review.

“As for the matter of Queen-Regent Bridget’s regent, that will be decided with or without their input at that time. If they are not produced, Mr. Rys will make the determination on his own. However, I would urge Mr. Rys to reconsider his choices for that role, because based on the reaction to the names you provided from the defense desk, I envision yet another summoning of the Conventus Nobilis if either of them get installed as regent. And if you think I’m impatient now, you do not want to see me if I am forced to preside over another emergency hearing.”

She paused for a moment, giving both desks intense, meaningful stares before continuing to issue her decision. 

“Now, as we are currently left with no clear agent to act as monarch, I will defer to several old Cordonian statutes. First, a king or queen who is too young to rule will be overseen by a regent who is the next in line for the throne over the age of majority, unless otherwise specified. Given that the Walkers are not eligible anymore due to the vote of no confidence, we will proceed through succession. Seeing as Mr. Rys is the last in his family line and our new queen-regent obviously has no heirs, based on the foundational statutes, Cordonia would revert to Nevrakis rule. Good news is the head of House Nevrakis is here and now knows she’s Queen-Regent for the next handful of hours. This is a provisional appointment only, as it is customary to allow a few days to establish a regency, and a new regent is set to be named tomorrow, so the powers of the monarch will only be enacted in emergency situations. Is that clear?” she asked, staring past Liam to where Oliva was seated.

“Yes, Your Honor.” Liam heard Olivia say from behind him, loud and clear even without a microphone. Olivia gaining power was an obvious victory today, but only a temporary one. If they attempted to leave her in power, Barthelmey would undoubtedly call for another vote from the Conventus Nobilis.

Upon hearing her response, Questa turned slightly towards the defense desk. Barthelemy was clearly fuming, but she continued speaking before that legal team could get a word out. “And before you get all outraged, Charles, I would encourage you to use this as motivation to urge your client to strongly consider letting the regent presented tomorrow stand instead of challenging yet another leader. Because the longer it takes for these two parties to reach an agreement, the longer she-” High Justice Questa said as she gestured to Olivia “-retains provisional powers of the monarch, something I’m guessing your client does not desire. Is everyone clear of my expectations?”

Murmurs of assent came from both desks, following which Questa gave a curt nod and tapped her gavel, bringing the hearing to a close for the day. Liam rose to watch her leave. He had now officially lost the right to stay seated. Oddly, he felt almost numb about that fact. There were so many other things happening that required his attention. 

He was expected to bring Drake and Riley to court tomorrow, and he was fairly certain that would not be a task that was possible for him to complete. This meant he needed to find another possible regent, one that Barthelemy and his allies would not attempt to remove from the throne but who would also be unlikely to bend to Barthelemy’s whims and schemes. Realistically, he needed to figure out Barthelemy’s endgame here. It would help him better plan for his next steps, including a bid to retake the throne at the Conclave, and if he was lucky, in the short term, it might even help him determine someone to suggest as regent who would be willing to show leniency to Drake and Riley. Allow him the chance to convince them to return to Cordonia, although the fact that Bridget was now the queen-regent did complicate matters more.

He saw Barthelemy approaching him, but Diana stopped him. “I’m sorry, but since this hearing is still pending, I’ve advised my client to not speak to you directly at this time.”

He let out a little huff, but went to rejoin his lawyers, allowing Liam to turn to Olivia, Hana, Maxwell, and Bertrand, all huddled in a little cluster behind him. 

“How are you, Liam?” Hana asked, patting his shoulder gently with her hand, her eyes full of concern and worry.

“It is all a lot to process at the moment, but today could have gone worse, I suppose,” Liam responded, trying to keep his voice calm. Any emotional response on his part needed to wait until they were someplace private. “I guess we need to find a place to reconvene now that the palace is no longer an option.”

Olivia frowned, “Who says it’s not an option? If I’m the provisional regent, I think we can easily return for tonight.”

“Are the optics of that wise? I wouldn’t want it to look like you were abusing the temporary powers Questa granted you.”

She just shrugged. “I honestly don’t care. They can’t touch me in any way that matters, and it’s not like I’ll be making a bid during the Conclave since I’ll be sponsoring you.”

Her nonchalant statement gave Liam pause. Although the Rys lineage could be traced back for hundreds of years, House Rys wasn’t one of the five major houses and therefore could not put up a candidate. He hoped she was comfortable with that offer and didn’t resent him for taking away her chance to be queen. The tone of her voice was just so matter-of-fact and resigned, and it made Liam wonder. But for now, he needed to focus on the short term, not the long term.

“I suppose it might be nice to clean out my office,” he said, soft enough that he was sure no one but the people right next to him could hear. The last thing he needed was Barthelemy to somehow get his hands on all sorts of official documents and start combing through them.

Olivia gave him a crisp nod of agreement before spinning to face Maxwell and Bertrand. “Alright you two - Ramsford first. Bertrand, repeat after me, ‘Documents detailing my father’s incompetence are more important than heirloom cutlery.’”

“Lady Olivia, I hardly-”

“It’s now ‘Your Regency, Bertrand,” she said, throwing in a little wink and chuckle as Bertrand started to sputter out apologies. “Seriously though. Maxwell, you need to keep him focused. Preventing your father from gaining control of House Beaumont is imperative.

“After you’re done at Ramsford, head to Lythikos. Now, Maxwell, repeat after me. ‘Literally anything I want to touch will probably maim or kill me, so I will touch nothing but my pillow.’ Bertrand, I’m counting on you from stopping him from causing serious bodily harm to himself or others.”

After the brothers expressed their agreement and left the courtroom, Liam noticed Olivia and Hana shooting glances towards each other. There was no one left in the room but Diana and the junior attorney with her today, Nicolas, so whatever they were silently communicating must be something that they wanted to keep from the legal team.

“Diana, Nicolas, we are meeting back at the palace. We can probably use the monarch’s office for tonight. But starting tomorrow, we will likely be relocating-” he glanced at Olivia, who nodded deeply “-to Lythikos. If you two wouldn’t mind heading back to the palace and determining who on the team is still willing to serve as my legal counsel now that I am no longer king, that would be a helpful next step. Say we meet up again in one hour?”

The lawyers agreed to the plan, leaving Liam alone with Olivia and Hana. “Alright, what couldn’t you bring up until they left?”

Hana passed him a sheet of paper. On it were two phone numbers, written in perfect cursive.

“What’s this?”

“Since you no longer are king, we thought maybe you would not want to be left in the dark anymore.”

It only took him a second to realize what Hana was saying and what the phone numbers implied.

“They got burner phones?”

Olivia let out a little sigh. “Yup. And if you want to talk to them, our next step should be getting you one, too.”

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl​   @riley--walker​  @bebepac​ @ravenpuff02​ @oofchoices​ @octobereighth​ @drakewalker04​ @kimmiedoo5​  @mfackenthal​  @thequeenofcronuts​  

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719​ @mskaneko​ @katedrakeohd​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @axwalker​ @kingliam2019​ @sirbeepsalot​ @texaskitten30​ @princessleac1​ @ladyangel70​ @dcbbw​ @yaushie​

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#drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfic #trh fanfic #trr au #trh au #trr au fanfic #trh au fanfic #king liam #choices fanfiction

[fletchphoenix]

What I’ve Been Looking For

Hey Gamers! Here’s Chapter 8 of the Varigo Coffee Shop AU and I’m gonna be honest - I think this is my favourite chapter yet! It’s certainly the longest so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!! Thank you for your support and ON WITH THE CHAPTER!

Word Count - 4853

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

A week had passed and it was finally Christmas - aka Hugo’s least favourite day of the year. Passing through his lips was a groan as he turned to his side on his bed, which was only a few bad days away from giving up on him completely. He felt around on the bedside table for his glasses, placing them on his face and laying back again, his head resting against the moss green pillows. Picking his phone up, he smiled at his phone screen - a photo of Varian at the library which was almost completely covered by the wall of text messages from said boyfriend. He let out a small sigh - his boyfriend absolutely adored Christmas, but...he didn’t get the appeal.

  At the orphanage, Christmas wasn’t really celebrated at all, it being far too expensive to buy presents for all the kids there. The only real indication he’d had that it was the streets being decorated by a ridiculous amount of lights, a giant pine tree placed in the centre of town with a mass of baubles scattered amongst the branches. Ever after he’d left, living on the streets for a while and after Donella took him in, she’d never been caring enough to celebrate the holiday. In her eyes, it was a ‘useless, excessively capitalised holiday used to manipulate the poor into spending a mass of money at one time’ and ‘a waste of money’. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree, the holiday was vastly overrated and had turned into a way to swindle money from the poor, manipulating the true meaning, but it wouldn’t hurt to get him a gift one year. It could’ve been a small one or something work-related, he wouldn’t have minded, but he never got one. 

  But that was the kind of woman Donella was, always cold and unfeeling towards everyone, including her son. Kind of. Did she even see him as her son? I mean-he’d always seen her as a mother to him, since she was the one to take him in, give him a home and a purpose...but that was because, in her eyes, he was a valuable asset. She’d only taken care of him, because she could get money from his skills. He knew that - she’d always been transparent about that fact with him - but there were plenty of instances where she’d contradicted herself. Where she’d actually cared. For example, when she’d brought him his jacket.

  She’d initially shoved it into his chest, wrapped in a plastic bag with her usual scowl and folded arms greeting him as his eyes met hers in confusion. Her grey hair was perfectly kept, behind her back in a braid which left the scar on her chin on full display as it jolted up towards her lip. She’d never told him how she’d got it, but he had his theories. One of his most outlandish scenarios was trying to trap her old research partner in a magical library, her partner using magic and a knife to scar the skin (11-year-old him had a wild imagination, okay?). Her sickly green eyes held annoyance in every last nook and cranny as she examined the boy in front of her’s confused expression at the package that was thrust towards his chest. “Well, aren’t you going to see what’s inside? I don’t have all day to be standing around waiting for you, Hugo.”

  “Yes ma’am.” He replied hastily, hands fumbling as he unwrapped the bag and took out the cargo. It was a green jacket, a grey hood at the top of it. He raised it to his eyes and tilted his head quietly. It was a little bit, but he’d grow into it. The second thing he’d noticed was that it was really, really soft, like..absolutely amazingly soft. Like fur! He pulled the jacket’s sleeves over his arms, noting how they covered his hands completely, before he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. It was comfy - a childish grin covering his face as he looked up at his mentor, grateful for his gift.

  “Your clothes looked ratty,” she said, looking away and trying to suppress her soft smile with a hardened expression. “I got you new ones. Maybe now you’ll look even slightly presentable.” she slowly walked away, Hugo knowing her true intentions behind the present. He let out a small yet happy sigh, his hand trailing through his hair as he walked down the hall towards his workshop again. He’d have to thank her later, he noted as he pushed open the door. He guessed that all the thanks he could give would be finishing off this commission they’d been working on for the past week...that would satisfy her more than a gift or hug or anything. He hung the jacket up on a peg, sitting down on the leather stool by his desk before leaning over and getting to work. 

  Hugo sat up in bed, finally deciding to get up on this cursed day and standing. He stretched his legs and arms, walking to his desk to give Olivia her daily helping of sunflower seeds, which the mouse graciously accepted with a happy squeak. He yawned and grabbed some clothes from the closet, heading down the hall towards the bathroom for a shower, passing framed photos of him, his boyfriend and their friends along the way. They all got along just fine - them being Hugo, Varian, Nuru and Yong, however him and Nuru did have the occasional sarcastic quip aimed at each other, much to Varian’s annoyance. Despite the playful banter though, they got along well considering the short amount of time they’d known each other, with Varian always taking pictures so Hugo would have to ‘frame his memories’ and place them on the wall. It was sweet, especially how he’d exclusively picked frames that were painted green - a nice little detail that didn’t go unnoticed by Hugo. Still, it felt strange. He thought Varian’s dad had grounded him, so why was he allowed out so frequently to meet up? The thought weighed heavy in his mind, although it disappeared as he arrived at his final destination.

  Varian sat up in his bed as soon as he’d woken up, a large smile on his face as he realised the day. “It's Christmas...It’s Christmas!” He yelled as he jumped up, startling the obese cat who was sleeping quite satisfied on his legs, curled up in a ball. The cat mewled and batted at Varian’s arms in response, the teen too excited to care as he threw open his door and sprinted down the stairs. He must’ve moved at the speed of sound, because he swore it only took him a few seconds to arrive in the kitchen, where his father stood preparing some hot chocolate and pancakes. He felt out of place in his teal pyjamas, but nonetheless he still took a seat at the table. “Good morning, Dad. Hey, that smells great!”

  “Good morning to you too, son. And thank you.” he replied, placing the pancakes on a plate, picking it up in one hand and the hot chocolate in the other before setting it in front of his son. Varian wasted no time, swallowing it all down so fast, Quirin could’ve sworn he’d just inhaled the things. Chuckling at the thought, he moved and sat down beside his son. “So, we’re stopping off at Rapunzel’s for Christmas dinner aren’t we?” A nod of confirmation came from his son, who was sipping his hot chocolate. “Okay, will we be picking up your boyfriend on the way?”

  Varian spat his hot chocolate out in shock at his father’s latter question. What? How did he know about Hugo? He’d never told him about the other boy before...maybe Rapunzel had told his father? No, she wouldn’t do that to him. Eugene? He scrapped that thought as soon as it came. Those two would never do that to him...would they? “No Varian. You need to trust them.” his inner voice reminded him. He composed himself as his eyes met his dad’s, who was quite obviously holding back his laughter. “I...how do you..know about him?”

  “Remember the night I grounded you? Last thursday? Yeah, that's how I know.” He explained nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair and sipping his hot chocolate quietly. “I went upstairs with the intent to apologise and saw you two fast asleep and cuddling. You both looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to intrude on your moment, so I left you be and wanted to wait until you were ready to tell me.” He suddenly leaned forward, taking his son’s hands in his own with a serious expression on his face. “Son, you know I love you no matter who you’re attracted to, whether it be boys or girls. You’re still my son and I love you unconditionally. So will your Aunt Adira and Uncle Hector. And we’ll support you no matter what. Although...it would have been nice to have a formal introduction with the boy, he seems very nice.”

  A smile crept onto Varian’s face as he rose to his feet, moving around the titular table to embrace his father. “Thank you so much, dad. And yes, we will have to pick him up. I want him to celebrate Christmas - it’ll be his first time celebrating too, which makes it even more special!” he paused. “I’ll let you know where his apartment is. I have a present that I...desperately wanna give him.”

  “Speaking of presents..” Quirin began, rising from his chair to look down at his son. “I haven’t given you yours yet. So, follow me.” He declared, leading the way towards the basement door. They hadn’t been down there since his mother left - it used to be her old workspace for anything science related. Varian used to love going down there and watching as Ulla would experiment, combining different elements in processes he didn’t even understand. Their son would watch in wonder as, with one ribbon of metal being added, an acid would change colour, and he’d cheer so loud with the biggest smile on his face whenever Ulla let him act as her ‘lab assistant’ and let him perform his own experiments (supervised, of course). 

  He did miss the woman and her presence in the house. She brought so much joy to everything she passed, making even the worst of days become one of the best. It was because of her that they even celebrated Christmas, her introducing the holiday to him and the various traditions that came along with it. She really was a loving and caring woman in every way there possibly was - Varian taking after her in that department. She’d sing to their son to help him sleep as a newborn and sit by his crib all night in case he woke up in the night and needed her for anything. But they never saw the stress wearing her down, causing her to become more and more confrontational as the days went on. Hell, the divorce came out of nowhere, Ulla one day stating that she wanted one and was leaving. Nonetheless, Quirin had supported her and let her go, because she was the woman he loved. If that’s what she wanted then fine, he’d let her leave. He bit the inside on his cheek. No time to think of that - it was Christmas and by god, he was gonna enjoy himself.

  The door to the basement opened and Quirin gestured for his son to go down the steps before him. Varian obliged, walking down the steps that threatened to break. They’d have to get them replaced one day, he thought as he reached the floor below and flicked on the lights. He was met with the sight of a truly magnificent sight. Tables were pushed up against the walls, a wheeled office chair placed under one. Beakers and a Bunsen burner sat on the side, beside a large stack of drawers that, upon closer inspection, were labelled and filled with all the equipment he needed, such as burets, test tubes, pipettes and micropipettes...it was simply breathtaking. He travelled further around the home lab, a coat peg in the corner with a single, white lab coat hanging from it. He immediately knew it was his mother’s from the small blue patch on the elbow of the left sleeve - a hole caused by 7-year-old him accidentally changing the Bunsen burner from the safety flame to the blue flame, his mom lunging over it to stop him from burning himself. After that, he was terrified of the burner for years after that. 

  “Dad, this is...this is amazing!” he gasped, running over and giving him a tight hug. “Wow! I love it so much!” he cried as he moved away and excitedly explored the room even more. Pulling on the lab coat, he flattened the creases of the lab coat. A perfect fit, he thought, before he turned to his dad with a smile. “How is it? Do I look alright?”

  “You look great son, but go upstairs and get dressed. We need to pick up your boyfriend and drive over to Rapunzel and Eugene’s house, okay?” He commented, watching his son’s excitement as he placed the lab coat back on the bed and sprinted upstairs. Quirin’s gaze drifted to the lab coat. He looked just like his mother in that lab coat, it was almost uncanny. He always thought about her this time of year and how much different life was without Ulla’s constant presence in the house. Nevermind,he muttered as he walked to the stairs, flicking off the lights and travelling up the stairs. It was in the past. Now, time to prepare himself to meet his son’s boyfriend.

  Hugo sat on the couch, his arms folded and pouting. There was nothing on but stupid goddamn Christmas movies! He hated them! All they did was brag that they had everything he didn’t have, like a family or gifts..it sucked. He especially hated them as a kid, wishing every year that he’d get adopted and have that one day. He’d always imagined his mom being a tall, gentle woman, who’d pick him up and put him on the counter if he’d fallen over while playing, placing a gentle kiss to his wounds before covering them with a bandaid, giving him a hug and sending him off to play. He’d also imagined his dad - a stern, blonde haired man with a soft side, who would always make time for him and show him what he did for work. They’d have good paying jobs too - his dad being a mechanic for some high-class company and his mom being a nurse. He’d had it all planned out. Especially Christmas, where he’d run down the stairs to be greeted with the sight of endless towers of presents, hugging and kissing his parents on the cheek after each one. Instead, he’d been ‘blessed’ with Donella, who couldn’t care less about him or Christmas. No parents, no luxury life, no Christmas. She snuffed out his dream on the final one really quick, being the one to tell him Santa wasn’t real (even though he already knew that, but the confirmation hurt).

  He was so lost in thought that he almost missed the sound of frantic knocking at the door to his apartment. “Who the hell is that?” he muttered under his breath as he sauntered down the hall. He ran his hands over his clothes, trying to flatten any creases that might be seen before opening the door. Varian stood, his hand raised as though he was about to knock the door again, with a goliath of a man behind him, causing Hugo to swallow thickly. Oh fuck was that man large. He could probably snap Hugo in half over his knee if he felt like it. ‘Please don’t call him dad, please don’t call him dad…’ Hugo found himself praying.

  “Hugh!” his boyfriend cried as he lunged forward and wrapped his arms round the blonde’s neck, who was still in shock at the sight of the man accompanying the titular teen. “Dad, this is my boyfriend, Hugo! Hugo, this is my dad!” he explained. Brilliant. Now he knew if he ever broke up with Varian (“Pfft, as if that’s gonna happen.” his inner voice reminded him, yet again butting in rudely.), he’d be assured a quick death at the hands of this titan of a man crushing his skull.

  “It's a uh-a pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” he finally stuttered out, trying to uphold his usual relaxed attitude, however judging by the crack in his voice, he’d failed miserably. He held out his hand, the older man exchanging his greeting and virtually concealing Hugo’s hand in his own, it being barely visible as it was shaken before being mercifully let go. “Why are you two here, by the way. In like-the politest way possible.”

  “You’re spending Christmas with us! Speaking of which, we’re meant to be at my sister’s like-right now! So! Let’s go!” he grabbed his boyfriend’s arm, only giving him enough time to grasp his coat, which had Varian’s present concealed in it, and scarf before pulling him out of the apartment and down the stairwell to the street below. Hugo listened to Varian’s rambling about their christmas traditions which didn’t seem to stop even as they got to the car and were heading towards Rapunzel and Fitzherbert’s house. Speaking of which, he’d never seen it, the only conversation he’d had with them being the...rather awkward one the day he’d asked Varian out. What a wild day that had been...it felt like forever ago, if he was being honest. It didn’t seem real that they were together at all. He gave the raven haired boy’s hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of his hand with a smile tugging at his lips again. He really was helpless for this boy.

  The car came to a halt outside a small cottage, very different to the one he had imagined the couple would live in. It was a surprise, albeit a pleasant one - what, a cottage out here in the middle of the countryside seemed like the best place to settle down. He just couldn’t believe someone like Fitzherbert would’ve settled for that. It admittedly looked kind of cute though, lights hung from the roof carefully and around the gate. Varian, however, gave him no time to admire the beauty of the cottage, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the white-painted fence and rushing up the steps before opening the front door. “We’re here, guys!” he declared and almost immediately they were swarmed by a mass of people.

  The only four people he’d noticed were Rapunzel, Eugene, Cassandra and Irene, pulling them into hugs and exchanging Christmas greetings with each other. The other three he’d recognised as Kiera, Catalina and Lance from all of the stories Varian would tell him randomly during their dates, such as how Lance had adopted them after they were orphaned (“Lucky kids.” Hugo had muttered to himself bitterly before turning away and staring out the window again). Hugo winced and grimaced at the exchanges, awkwardly returning them before heading towards where he thought the living room was. 

  Luckily, he was right, and he moved quickly to sit on the couch, immediately cringing at the sight of an excessively decorated and obviously fake Christmas tree sitting against the wall with a mass of presents underneath it. More reminders of the things he’d lacked all his life, he thought bitterly, before a warmth beside him broke him out of his thoughts. Varian cuddled into his boyfriend’s side, kissing his cheek gently with a soft, loving smile on his face. “Hey there, sweetheart..you enjoying yourself?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

  “Yeah, definitely. Don’t you worry your pretty little head over it.” he lied over his teeth, praying his boyfriend didn’t notice his discomfort. It must’ve been his lucky day as, other than a concerned noise, Varian seemed to take this answer as gospel and just cuddled into his side further. Hugo thrived in their moment of peace amongst the madness of Christmas, almost like the week before where they sat in the park at almost midnight just cuddling on the park bench. This only lasted a moment, however, as Rapunzel called them all in for dinner as she placed various dishes onto the table. 

  Everyone crowded around it, Varian holding Hugo’s hand under the table as they sat side by side (the fact that Varian was left handed helped tremendously, considering Hugo was right handed and both could hold each other’s less dominant hand) with a shy smile on his face as he, once again, answered the numerous questions on how they met. All the while, Hugo sat uncomfortably. It was all too much for him - the family, the food, the absolute love...he couldn’t take him. “Give me a minute.” he muttered as he let go of Varian’s hand, standing up and excusing himself. Hurriedly, he left the room and sat outside on the steps up to the house. 

  He didn’t get it. How did he deserve any of this? He was a bad person and didn’t see how someone like Varian could look at him and think that he warranted any of this. He was a thief and a liar and messed up everything good in his life. Varian would realise that one day and leave him, just like everyone else in his life did. He didn’t want to admit it but..he knew he wasn’t good enough for someone like Varian. Someone so sweet despite everything he did in his past - someone so forgiving...he didn’t deserve that. The door opened behind him, quickly shutting before footsteps stopped beside him and none other than Fitzherbert sat down beside him. “What. You come to laugh at me or something?”

  “Nope. I don’t know why you’d think that.” Fitzherbert commented, looking at the troubled teen and sighing, seeing himself in the boy. He took a deep breath and looked directly ahead as he continued to talk. “I know how you’re feeling. I was an orphan too. You feel as though you don’t belong - like you don’t deserve any of this and you never will. But you do, Hugo. I know I don’t really know you that well, but I’ve been in your boat before and I know Varian well enough to know he adores you. Varian thinks the world of you and looks as though you put the stars in the sky. I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings - you deserve to feel however you want and that's okay, but you need to know that we all care about you so much and...for the record, Rapunzel was really excited to meet you again. Just letting you know, she literally texted Varian asking everything about you like your favourite flavours, colors..hell, even smells!” He let out a laugh, and so did Hugo, albeit a little weak. “You don’t have to come back in..but you can if you want.”

  Hugo bit the inside of his cheek before leaning and resting his head on Eugene’s arm, letting the older man put his arm around him before bringing him into a long embrace. One that he didn’t know he needed, especially from someone like Eugene. He let out a breathy chuckle before standing up with Eugene, making their way inside and sitting beside his boyfriend again. Varian gave him a concerned look, Hugo nodding in reassurance and raising his boyfriend’s hand to his lips, kissing the back of his hand before they smiled and continued to eat.

  As soon as dinner was over, Hugo found himself sitting down beside Varian on the couch yet again as the others exchanged presents. Eugene had got Rapunzel a purple frying pan (he didn’t question why, the woman seemed eccentric enough to adore the gift, gifting her boyfriend with a mass of kisses), Rapunzel bought Eugene a small ring to match her engagement ring, Irene gave Cassandra a leather jacket and Cassandra gave Irene a pink helmet to wear on the motorbike, Lance got the girls MANY presents that Hugo didn’t have the energy to remember. And that left him and Varian to exchange gifts.

  Carefully they both took out their boxes for each other, trading them and opening them at the same time. Both gasped when they saw they’d both bought each other a pair of goggles! Hugo gazed at the goggles Varian had bought for him. They were circular - big enough to fit over his glasses - with orange lenses and spikes around the rim, being painted grey all over. A leather strap connected them at the back, him placing them round his neck. Varian, on the other hand, stared at his in disbelief. A small, extra magnifier was attached to the left eye of the goggles, the rims painted bronze and gold with clear, colourless lenses. They were perfect, he silently decided, leaning in closer to Hugo to place a gentle kiss to his jaw.

  “These are perfect, Hugo..I..thank you so much!” he said with love and affection dripping through his words as he put the goggles on top of his head, his hands drifting to the vial around his neck and fiddling with it. It illuminated, shining a soft light across his chest and hands as he gazed down at it in wonder. He looked up at the blonde again, who looked at him with the utmost affection and a dorkish smile on his face. “Anyway, we should be heading back. It’s kinda late and I need my beauty sleep!” he joked, standing and pulling Hugo and Quirin along with him. They bid their farewells, Rapunzel extremely reluctant to let Hugo leave as she hadn’t learnt absolutely everything about him, but she let them leave after a while. They all got into the car and drove back towards Hugo’s apartment complex.

  After Hugo left the car, Varian walked beside him hand in hand up to his apartment. “Hey, look at this.” Varian said as they got to the door, bringing a piece of branch out of his pocket and raising it above his head. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, looking down at his boyfriend who quickly elaborated. “It’s mistletoe so you have to kiss me!” he declared, raising himself onto his tiptoes and puckering his lips. His eyes shut and Hugo’s face took on a grin, leaning down to kiss the boy in a long, sweet kiss, pouring every bit of affection they had for each other into it. 

  The kiss eventually broke and Varian headed down the hall and away from Hugo for the night, the blonde sighing. He pushed open the door, however it stopped part way due to a weight in front of the door. “Huh? Weird.” he muttered, sliding in through the thin gap between the door as his eyes met a package at the door. It was green and moderately large and, after Hugo had kicked the door shut, he crouched down and reached out to read the tag on the box. 

  ‘Merry Christmas - Donella’

  Huh. That was weird. Donella ACTUALLY getting him a Christmas gift? That was unheard of in his world up until now, but he still picked it up and carried it into the living room before placing it on the glass coffee table. He slowly untied the bow and raised the lid, noticing what was inside the box. It was a new laptop - one he had been working to try and get for months now. He didn’t think she’d actually listened to him when he talked to her about it. “Well, that’s a welcome surprise.” he whispered under his breath, lifting it out to see something else tucked at the bottom of the box. Setting the laptop aside, he raised it to see another jacket - this one he immediately recognised. She’d worn it all the time when he was younger and he’d always loved it, but now..she was actually giving it to him. 

  This one was a dark green with a few gold and grey accents across it, the crest of her company embroidered onto the arm only as big as his thumb. He smiled happily, his fingers tracing over the material as he carried both the laptop and the jacket upstairs to his room. He’d always loved the jacket, and usually Donella was overly possessive about her property, so the fact that she was willingly giving it up for him...it was a large statement for a woman like her. 

  He pushed open the door and placed the two items onto his desk, changing into his pyjamas and laying down on his bed. He took off his glasses and set them aside onto his bedside table, moving to hug his pillow close to his chest and imagining it was his boyfriend. He’d have to thank them both for their gifts when he had the time.

  “Y’know...maybe Christmas isn’t so bad after all.” he whispered to himself before letting himself fall asleep, a smile still plastered on his face.

#varigo #varian and the seven kingdoms #varian x hugo #varian tangled #tangled varian #hugo tangled #tangled hugo #alchemy boyfriends #varigo coffee shop au

[blackcatkita]

The Consequence of Secrets- Chapter 26

The Things That Never Change, and The One That Changes Everything

Liam x Jennifer (MC), Drake x Olivia

Let’s skip the part where I apologize for taking so long and promise to get the next chapter out more quickly, shall we? At this point I feel like I’m just jinxing myself when I say that. Word count is 4972 and I hope you like it! I know I do, but if YOU do, please like, comment, or reblog. I appreciate every single note!

Groaning into his pillow, Drake blindly swipes toward the ungodly sound coming from the nightstand. The clumsy gesture does nothing to stop the noise but knocks the phone to the floor where the alarm he set only a few hours before continues to torment him out of reach.

Shifting a quarter turn, he hangs off the side of the bed to reach the damn thing and turns it off. Chin resting on the side of the mattress and his hands on the floor, he closes his eyes to enjoy the silence, knowing another alarm will go off in five minutes. He hasn’t even sat up yet and he already can’t wait to take a nap. But that will have to wait. He has shit to do, a pissed off girlfriend’s ass to kiss and a King and Queen in need of toiletries and a change of clothes. It’s gonna be a day. Again.

After a quick shower, a cup of stale coffee from the kitchenette alcove in his quarters and a call to check on Olivia’s ETA, he feels slightly more human and less like the walking dead. He grabs his old denim shirt from the closet for old time’s sake and slips it on, recalling what Olivia said as he fastens the buttons. ‘I’ll get there when I get there, don’t worry about when it is. Go do what you’re supposed to be doing and take care of Liam and Jennifer.’ So warm and fuzzy his woman is. A regular wallflower. But though her tone was laced with snark, as usual, she didn’t sound as pissed off as she had been so… here’s hoping he was wrong and whatever she wanted to talk to him about before he left for the capital wasn’t a big deal after all.

Down one hall, a right turn and down another, Drake reaches the double doors of the Royal Chambers, having had to endure several double-takes and apprehensive stares from palace staff along the way. It’s to be expected after what went down but a damn ‘hello’ would be nice. Though he could also say ‘hello’ to them first, if he wanted to be sucked into a conversation that is. Which he doesn’t.

Using the key Liam gave him not long after the area was renovated, he lets himself into the large, open space, bright from the morning sun shining through the floor to ceiling windows. The memory of the last time he stood here flashes in his mind; he and Liam rolling around the floor kicking the shit out of each other, then being unceremoniously dragged out by guards. He forces the thought away and focuses on another time they stood in this space; back when Liam trusted him and considered him his brother.

It was the day before they were due in Fydelia to begin Liam and Madeleine’s engagement tour and they hadn’t seen or spoken to Jennifer in weeks. All they knew was she was safe with the Beaumont’s but they didn’t know who was behind the plot, who they could trust or what the future would hold. Despite it all, every detail of the three-bedroom renovation Liam was showing him was designed with Jennifer in mind; from the Brazilian walnut floors and concrete countertops to the damn light fixtures. He had spared no expense and it really had turned out perfectly. Classy, but not pretentious. Elegant, but not stuffy. He built them a home they could be themselves in, within the confines of the Royal Palace. Ever the cynic, Drake had asked what he would do with it if he ended up married to Madeleine and Liam had answered, “Then should she want it, it will be Jennifer’s alone. Though every day I pray we will live here together and raise our family as husband and wife.”

Grinning at the memory, Drake crosses the living room to the stairs and a glint of gold on one of the bookshelves flanking the fireplace catches his eye. He sucks in a breath, stopping in his tracks when he recognizes the item responsible. The next moment has him standing in front of the shelves, with no recollection of walking over or picking up the antique compass he gave Liam as a wedding gift. The breath he’d been holding slowly releases from his lungs as he looks down at it, both shocked and not at all surprised Liam kept it on display. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he kept putting it away and Jennifer kept putting it back. Maybe he only recently…  Ah, hell, he’s putting a lot of thought into something that had probably been sitting there forgotten the whole time.

Setting it back on the shelf, he scrubs his hand down his face and turns around. He screams, throwing himself back into the wooden edges of the bookcase. Books fall around him as from the couch, Maxwell screams back at him, bolting up to a sitting position and dumping poor Chance onto the floor from where he’d been sleeping tucked against Maxwell’s chest. The dog runs around and around an armchair, barking his little head off as Liam and Jennifer’s second corgi darts behind the other chair, nails skittering across the floor as her paws try to find purchase on the wood.

As he stands there trying to catch his breath, Drake’s heart thumps against the palm he has pressed to his chest. “Jesus Christ, Maxwell! You trying to give me a heart attack?!”

“Me?!” Maxwell stares back with wild eyes, clutching the blanket tightly against his baby hippo tattoo. His hair is plastered to one side of his head and the rest is sticking up every which way. He looks like a madman. “You’re the intruder! I was just sleeping here, man!”

“I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Crouching down to the floor, Drake holds out his hand and makes a clicking sound with his tongue. Chance closes the few feet of distance between them, sniffing the proffered hand before nudging it with his nose to accept pets. “I just came to pack a bag for Liam and Jennifer.”

Maxwell releases his hold on the blanket and places his hands on the couch to either side of him as he leans forward. “Is she okay? Did you talk to her?”

“A little bit,” Drake replies, giving Chance belly rubs as he rolls over. “She was pretty out of it.”

“Is she okay though? All I know is she had surgery but what was wrong with her?” The manic look is back in his eyes and his words are coming out in a rush. “Liam is freaking out, isn’t he? Is Little Maxwell okay? Nobody tells me anything!”

Pressing his lips together, Drake lets out a slow breath through his nose as he stands. “Ok, one, even if it is a boy they’re not naming their baby Maxwell and two, I texted you like seven times.”

“You did?” Maxwell grabs his phone from the coffee table and smiles as he looks down at it. “Ha. I guess you did.”

Eyebrow quirked, Drake nods. “Yeah.”

“Shh! I’m reading…”

Drake rolls his eyes. “Alright, well, while you get caught up I’m gonna grab their stuff.” As Maxwell starts to get up from the couch, Drake holds up his hand and shakes his head. “No, I don’t need your help. It will go much quicker without you. You’ve got ten minutes to get dressed if you want to go back to the hospital with me.” Picking up the empty duffel bag, he walks away and makes it halfway up the stairs before adding, “And for God’s sake, do something with your hair.”

A half an hour later, Drake stands in the foyer with a more presentable Maxwell, both of them armed with a packed duffel bag slung over their shoulders. In Drake’s, Jennifer’s purse and phone, chargers, toiletries and a change of clothes for both of them. In Maxwell’s, a deck of cards, seven different novels, a stack of magazines, a corgi plushie, a teddy bear, and Jennifer’s pillow.

“Ok.” Drake turns to Maxwell and pins him with a stern expression. “Those vultures are going to be looking for info and until Liam or Jennifer decides otherwise, it’s none of their damn business. So, when we get out there, we move quickly and quietly. Do not talk to, smile at, laugh, wink or even so much as look at anyone. We do not engage. Understand?”

Maxwell nods once, firmly. “Act like Drake. Got it.”

Resisting the urge to go over the rules again, Drake opens the door just far enough to stick his head through, checking to make sure the hallway is empty before he steps into it. “Alright, let’s go.”

“So…” Maxwell says as he shuts the door behind him and falls in step beside Drake. “I know we’re not supposed to talk to anyone but, what if it’s like, Olivia or something?”

“Olivia isn’t here.”

“She didn’t come with you?”

“No.”

“How come?”    

Exasperated, Drake stops at the juncture of two hallways. “What part of quietly did you not understand?” Before Maxwell even has a chance to open his mouth, it feels like the air around them is sucked out of existence and a chill runs down Drake’s spine. He turns to the right, gazing down the long hallway to the door separating the residential wing from the rest of the palace and there she is, the one person he dreaded seeing most. Madeleine. Her cold, dead eyes narrow as their eyes lock and the chill turns into a full shudder like his body knows it’s in the presence of pure evil.

“We’ve been made!” Maxwell yelps, shocking Drake out of the spell the witch put on him.

Instinct kicks in and it only takes a split second for him to assess the situation. A mere twenty feet stands between them and the door to the garage. And while they are laden with the bags, Madeleine has three times the distance and a right turn to cover; and she’s wearing heels. “Run for it!” Drake shouts, grabbing onto Maxwell’s shoulder and giving him a shove as Madeleine steps forward. Hearing her shoes clacking against the marble floor as she chases after them, they sprint for the door like the devil is on their heels, because she is. He reaches it, heart racing and breathless as he pulls his keys from the front pocket of his jeans. With Maxwell bouncing nervously beside him, he fumbles with the ring, hands shaking as he finds the right key and slams it home. He flings the door open and rushes into the garage, only to be stopped by a strangled cry behind him. Whirling back around, he finds Maxwell, straining against the strap on his shoulder with panic in his eyes.

“Forget about me!” he shouts. “Save yourself!”

A deep, hearty laugh bursts from Drake’s lips, the first in a long time and damn if it doesn’t feel good. He rushes back to save his friend, checking behind him to see what the problem is. “You’re stuck on the doorknob. Quit pulling.”

“Help me!”

“I’m trying!” Drake laughs, finally getting Maxwell free as Madeleine rounds the corner. “Go! Go! Go!” Dragging Maxwell through the door, he slams it behind them and locks it, cutting off Madeleine as she yells something about acting like children.

Maxwell drops his bag and bends forward, breathing heavily with his hands on his knees. “That… was close.”

“Yeah, no shit. Of all the people to find us.”

“Right?” Maxwell agrees. “Does she have a key?”

“I doubt it,” Drake shrugs. “I don’t think she’s driven herself anywhere in her life. Probably shouldn’t wait around for her to find one though.” Or for anyone else to stop them. All he has to do is stop to grab Liam some food, check-in with him and Jennifer when they drop off the bags and make it back to the palace with enough time to take a much-needed nap before Olivia arrives. The trick will be reigning Maxwell in, but Drake is not above leaving his ass there should he not know when it’s time to leave.

“Agreed,” Maxwell nods and picks up his bag. “Let’s roll, partner.”

From the palace to Seraphim’s diner, Maxwell was his usual self, but as they left with Liam’s lunch, his demeanor changed and it only got worse the closer they got to the hospital. By the time they were cleared through the secured side entrance and wound their way through the halls, he wasn’t talking at all and his steps were slow and deliberate like he was physically forcing himself to move forward.

Stepping onto the lift and hitting the button for the fifth floor, Drake tries once again to engage in conversation as the doors slide shut. “I wonder how long it will take the press to catch wind of this. I can’t believe they aren’t swarming the place already.”

Maxwell only nods in response, staring straight ahead with his jaw clenched. His breathing is ragged and coming too fast and he’s got the bag strap in a white-knuckled grip. The guy is not doing well at all, and Drake is afraid he’s either going to pass out or throw up; maybe both.

Drake grips Maxwell’s shoulder tightly, speaking in what he hopes is a soothing voice. “Hey, she’s okay.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Maxwell looks away and down at the floor, but not before Drake sees his lower lip tremble.

The lift comes to a stop and as the doors open, Drake gives Maxwell’s shoulder one more squeeze. “Come on. It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”

“I’m umm…” Maxwell swallows hard, gesturing at the sitting area in front of them as they step out into the foyer. “I’m just going to wait out here.”

“She’s going to want to see you. You know that, right?”

Maxwell shrugs dejectedly and starts to head to one of the chairs.

Ah, hell. Maxwell may be the goofy, fun-loving optimist everyone knew, but those close to him know he’s one of the most caring, compassionate and empathetic people you’d ever have the pleasure of meeting. He’s the one who found Jennifer; sat with her before Liam got there when nobody knew what was happening and considering how much she means to him, it’s no wonder he’s having a hard time with seeing her again. Drake should have seen it coming and if he hadn’t isolated himself in Lythikos for so long, maybe he would have. “Give me the bag,” Drake tells him, holding out his hand. Maxwell hands it over, then turns away again without a word. “Room 505. Come in when you’re ready.”

One duffel slung over his shoulder and another with a white bag of greasy diner food balanced on top in his hand, Drake rounds the corner to Jennifer’s room. Halfway down the hall, he hears laughter coming from inside her room and relief washes over him, bringing with it a sense of peace he hasn’t felt in he doesn’t know how long. He nods to the two guards posted outside, thinking he should have brought them food as well as he lets himself into the room.

Jennifer is sitting up in bed, fresh-faced and her long brown hair pulled up into a ponytail with Liam perched at her side, their focus only on each other as they laugh. Hearing the doctor say the surgery went well, talking to her in her doped-up state, even Liam telling him the palace was still his home; none of those things compared to the sight of them together. Uninhibited, happy and carefree; like they’re supposed to be.

“Stop… stop… stop…” Jennifer pants, leaning over to place her hand on Liam’s forearm. “I just had surgery, you know!”

“Oh, yes, that’s right,” Liam chuckles. “I had almost forgotten why we were here.”

Smiling, she shakes her head and rolls her eyes as Liam kisses the back of her hand. She glances over and seeing Drake, her smile widens. “Drake! You’re here! And you’re… moving in?”

“Ha-Ha.” Drake slips off the bag and places them both against the wall. He turns around, rolling his shoulder to ease the ache Maxwell’s heavy ass bag caused. “Half the hospital can hear you two cackling in here. What’s so funny?”

“Oh, Liam was telling me about what I did while I was coming off anesthesia. Apparently, I told the nurse I married good, not to get any ideas and that I was watching her.”

Liam nods, grinning like a fool. “Then she said, and I quote, ‘Just give it here. It’s cute and tight and I wanna touch it’ before grabbing my backside. And when I took her hand to stop the assault, she blew a raspberry at me, called me a ‘mean man’ and shouted, ‘I let you touch my butt whenever you want’.”

Drake raises his eyebrows. “Wow.”

“Whatever,” Jennifer shrugs, looking not the least bit embarrassed as she grabs a jello cup and spoon off the over-bed tray. “I feel like I’d do all those things without being under the influence of propofol. Oh! Check this out!” She holds out her arm, showing him a plastic contraption with two dangly bits taped to her skin. “It’s called a PICC line and it goes in here then snakes through my vein alllll the way up and stops near my heart. That way they don’t have to keep poking me for my antibiotics and stuff. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Fascinating.” Drake turns away, bending down to grab Liam’s food off the top of the duffel bag. “Here. Figured you’d be hungry.”

“What is that?” Jennifer licks her lips, her eyes following the bag as Drake passes it over her bed to Liam.

“Seraphim’s?” Liam asks.

“Of course, Seraphim’s,” Drake scoffs. “Like I’d get you a burger and fries from anywhere else.”

“Why…” Jennifer looks up at Drake, brow furrowed and her lips parted as she shakes her head, like she can’t comprehend what is happening. “Why would you bring yummy and delicious food from my favorite diner when I can’t eat anything?! I thought you were my friend!”

“Sorry,” Drake shrugs. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, one which he quickly covers with his palm so as not to anger the queen further. She can be scary when she wants to be.

“I can see you smiling!” She looks to Liam for support but the insulted look on her face changes to a scowl when she sees the fry halfway to his mouth.

“What?” Liam has the good sense to look guilty, but he still eats the fry. “I haven’t eaten since early yesterday.”

“Neither have I! Before that even!” she retorts, watching him chew. “Give me one.” She reaches for the bag and Liam pulls it away.

“No. You’re on a clear liquid diet for twenty-four hours. No exceptions.”

“Remember when I said you were a mean man? I stand by it.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Liam laughs. “But I won’t take the chance of you making yourself sick for a french fry. Follow the rules today and if all goes well, tomorrow we will get you whatever you want. Though I am glad to see you seem to be getting your appetite back.”

She lets out a whiny groan and slumps back against her pillow, pouting as she rips the top off her container of lime jello and throws it aggressively onto the tray. “It’s not even a good flavor.” The jello makes an unpleasant squelch as she digs the spoon in.

“Which flavor do you like better?” Liam asks. “I’ll get it for you.”

“Red.” Swallowing a spoonful, she shivers in disgust. “Blech.”

“Red is a color, not a flavor,” Drake points out. The look he receives from her in response is unpleasant, to say the least, and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Never mind.”

“Ok, how about this,” Jennifer looks at Liam with a hopeful expression. “Let me smell the bag while I eat, and that way, it will taste like real food.”

Drake grimaces. “I feel like that may be going too far and it’s very weird.”

“Says the guy who can eat whatever he wants,” she grumbles at the jello.

“You are adorable,” Liam smiles fondly at her. “While you’re free to… sniff my food anytime you wish, I’m not sure that’s going to work. I also don’t trust you not to snatch it as soon as my guard is down.” That gets a laugh out of her and when Liam catches Drake’s eye across the bed, he smiles.

“You know what? That is a completely valid point,” she sighs dramatically, digging back into her ‘meal’. “At least this is better than the so-called chicken broth you made me finish. Saltwater was more like it.”

There’s a tentative knock on the door and Jennifer sets the cup down as they all look to see who it is. Maxwell enters, looking more disheveled than when they arrived but less than when Drake woke him up. Like he had run his hand through his hair a few too many times while psyching himself up to come in. He lingers by the door, wringing his hands together as his eyes move to Drake, then Liam, and finally Jennifer. Drawing in a shuddering breath, he wraps his arms around himself as tears fill his eyes and Drake follows his line of sight to see Jennifer’s reaction.

The greeting she was undoubtedly about to give dies on her lips and her face crumbles, eyes glistening with tears of her own as she holds out her arms. Without a word, Liam stands from the bed and Drake steps back as Maxwell closes the distance between him and Jennifer to burrow himself into her embrace.

She cradles him in her arms, one hand cupping the back of his head and the other rubbing his shoulders as they shake with sobs. “I’m okay, Maxwell,” she whispers. “I’m okay.”

“I was so scared,” Maxwell hiccups into her hair. “I thought you were going to die.”

“I know.” She blinks and tears roll down her cheeks. “But you found us. You saved our lives, Maxwell. You don’t have to worry anymore. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Liam swallows hard, trying and failing to hold in his emotions as he watches the exchange. “We’ll give you two some privacy.”

Jennifer looks up at him with a shaky smile, nodding her head and mouthing the words ‘Thank you’.

Liam gives her thigh a gentle squeeze, then looks at Drake and tips his head towards the door.

“Might want to grab that bag,” Drake tells him, gesturing at the food Liam set down when he stood. Behind Maxwell’s head, Jennifer gives him the finger.

Picking it up, Liam follows Drake to the door, speaking low enough only he can hear as they exit into the hallway. “I believe you are correct. For the sake of my marriage, I think it’s best I eat elsewhere.”

Drake laughs in agreement but as the seconds tick by, an awkward silence falls between them. He wants to know what the doctors have said; is she really going to be okay, is the medication working, but it isn’t his place to ask anymore. No, he’ll just stand here with his hands in his pockets, not knowing how to mend the bridge that’s been burnt between him and his brother.

“They said her white blood cell count continues to decrease.” Now that Liam’s away from Jennifer, the lines of stress and anxiety he had before have returned to his face. “It’s too soon to tell, but so far they’ve been able to stop the infection.”

Relieved, Drake sighs. “That’s good. And she’s obviously feeling better.”

“How much of that is the medication, though?” Liam asks, walking a few feet down the hall. “She’s on anti-nausea meds, morphine for the pain… they’re pumping antibiotics straight into her bloodstream three times a day. She’s worried about how it will all affect the baby but without it…” He shakes his head, unable to finish the thought and scrubs his hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you with this.”

“Come on, Liam, we’re brothers. There’s no apology needed.”

Liam huffs out a humorless laugh, one corner of his mouth twitching. “I have much to apologize for, Drake.”

“Yeah, me too.” Looking down at the floor, Drake shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels as the silence stretches between them again. “You better go eat. It’s probably ice cold by now.”

“There’s a microwave down the hall.”

“Oh,” Drake nods. He takes his hands out of his pockets, starts to put them back in and rubs the back of his neck instead. Say something. Do something. Anything. Just stop fidgeting. “I’m gonna go get some coffee. Want me to bring you some?”

“Sure. Thank you.” The grin on Liam’s face quickly melts away as his eyes narrow slightly and the hint of a furrow forms between his brows. It’s a look Drake has seen on his face countless times. He’s contemplating something and isn’t sure how to proceed; or if he should. To save him the trouble, Drake turns away, only making it a couple of steps when Liam speaks again. “Drake?”

He turns back around to look at Liam. “Yeah?”

Liam swallows nervously and glances to the side then takes a deep breath and looks Drake in the eye. “There are things I need to say but with everything going on… maybe once she’s back home and settled you and I can sit down and have the discussion we should have had months ago. If you’re agreeable to it, of course.”

Drake nods. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” Flashing a relieved grin, Liam lifts the bag of food. “I’m going to…”

“Yeah, go eat. I’ll see you in a few.” Drake watches as Liam walks back towards Jennifer’s room, his gait somewhat easier and the set of his shoulders lighter as he stops to talk to Bastien and the other guards. The captain catches Drake’s eye and they give each other a firm nod before Drake turns to leave, both excited and nervous as all hell for the conversation that’s been a long time coming.

Two hours later, after watching Maxwell catalog everything he brought, listening to him complain about Drake not letting him pack Monopoly and a chess set, and saying goodbye to Liam and Jennifer, Drake finally returns to his quarters. Opening the door, he finds Olivia, sitting straight-backed in one of his armchairs with her hands in her lap and her legs pressed together. “Hey,” he greets her, closing the door behind him. “Why didn’t you call me when you got here?”

“You’d be back eventually,” Olivia shrugs. “How is she?”

“Much better than she was.” He tosses his keys onto the small table beside the door and walks over to the couch, sinking into it with a groan. “Liam said she’s on a bunch of meds but so far they’ve stopped the infection. Nothing to do but wait I suppose, but she looks good. A little whiny and dramatic but for the most part, she was acting like herself.”

“Good.” Olivia pauses, running her hands down her thighs to smooth non-existent wrinkles from her black leggings. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He leans forward, sighing as he threads his fingers through his hair. “Look, I know you’re pissed about the way I’ve been handling things with Liam and with us but…”

She holds up her hand, palm facing forward as she squeezes her eyes shut. “Drake, stop.”

“Let me finish.” Scooting closer to her, he takes her hand, cradling it in both of his. “I should have come to the picnic with you, shouldn’t have shut you down every time you tried to convince me of what an ass I was being. All you were trying to do was get me to fix things with Liam and I should have listened to you. Because you were right, I was scared. I was scared of facing him and I was scared of opening myself up again and that’s why I held myself back with you. But I’m done with all of it.” He takes a deep breath to calm his racing heart and squeezes her hand until her gorgeous green eyes meet his. “You’re beautiful and capable, sweeter than you pretend to be and you scare the shit out of me. You drive me crazy but damn it, I love you. I love you, Olivia. I’ve loved you for a long time and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

She gasps, staring at him with wide eyes and her lips parted as she slowly shakes her head. “That’s not what I wanted to…”

“Not what you wanted to hear?”

“No! No, I…” She releases a shuddering breath, and her gaze falls to where her hand is trembling in his. “I have something to tell you.”

Cold dread sweeps across the back of his neck and instinctively, he pulls away. “What is it?” he asks, not wanting to hear the answer but needing to all the same. She opens her mouth to speak, three, four times before closing it again and when their eyes lock, he sees a vulnerability he hasn’t seen from her since they were kids. Whatever it is, she’s afraid to tell him and that fact alone makes him snap, “For God’s sake, spit it out, woman!”

Anger flashes in her eyes and she purses her lips, looking like if she had a knife in her hand he’d be bleeding on the floor. “Congratulations. You’re going to be a father.”

***********************

#the consequence of secrets #liam x mc #drake x olivia #trr fanfic #trh fanfic #choices trr #choices trh #liam x jennifer

[bravest-archived]

He knitted her a comfy sweater !!

@ralcify   is  so  kind  to  you .   (  you  don’t  deserve  it .  )

HER   CLOTHES   ARE   ILL - FITTED   and  leave  the  child  looking  just  that  little  bit  bulkier   ——   bigger  and  tougher  than  the  frail  thing  she  really  is  beneath  all  that  bunchy  fabric .   mom  buys  her  all  the  wrong  sizes  or  lugs  home  big  bags  of  mismatched  kids’  clothes  from  second - hand  stores ,   and  it’s  up  to  olivia  to  sift  through  the  heaps  of  stained  shirts  and  singular  shoes  with  no  pair  to  pick  out  something  marginally  presentable .   she  was  never  left  wanting  when  it  came  to  itchy  sweaters  and  she  finds  that  they  look  okay  on  her  regardless ,   in  the  strangest  way .   they’re  a  staple  of  her  messy  wardrobe .

A   TENDER   SMILE   QUIRKS   HER   LIPS ,   and  what  a  rarity  such  simple  curve  of  mouth  is !   one  that  ralsei’s  presence  alone  is  far  too  capable  of  eliciting ;   her  default  ugly  scowl  cannot  linger  long  in  his  friendly  company .   but  today  her  companion  brings  something  more :   something  almost  as  soft  as  himself ,   something  almost  as  warm  as  his  loving  heart .   with  an  owlish  blink ,   olivia  takes  the  monster’s  gift  into  her  hot  little  hands   ——   turning  it  over  absently ,   examining .   and  how  fondly  her  gaze  rests  upon  the  sweater ,   how  full  of  gratitude  are  gray  brown  eyes  when  she  peeks  back  up  at  him .   

❛  ‘S   ——  ‘S   FO’   ME ?   ❜   she  asks  stupidly ,   but  in  her  poor  head  it  makes  sense ;   not  many  people  have  ever  offered  her  presents   ——    why  would  they ,    after  all ?   olivia  doesn’t  deserve  care  and  kindness ,   that  idea’s  long  been  instilled .   her  smile  wobbles .   tugging  the  jumper  over  her  head ,   pulling  it  down  past  the  long  sleeved  shirt  beneath ,   she  looks  over  herself  with  an  earnest  grin .   ❛   ah ,   fits  …  !   ❜

AND   SO   IT   DOES .   she  looks  so  much  smaller ,   as  it  hugs  her  painfully  skinny  frame .   almost  vulnerable  (  were  it  not  for  her  wild  hair ,   intensity ,   bright  eyes  warm  with  mischief .  )   tentative  hands  fumble  for  his ,   all  but  itching  to  cling .    the  child  peeks  up  at  ralsei ,   a  newfound  softness  edging  her  visage ,   boisterous  voice  diminished  to  a  gentle  murmur .   ❛   thank  y’ ,   ❜   olivia  aches  with  how  much  she  means  it .   her  heart  feels  light  in  her  chest  as  she  regards  her  friend .   ❛  thank  y’   so ,    so  much ,   ralsei .   ‘s  lovely .   y’r   lovely ,    lovely ,   lovely .   ❜

#answered. #oh....... #:'3 #I STARTED WRITING THIS BEFORE THE . OLIVIA IS AN ANGEL DRAMA AAAA #I LOVE THEM. #ralcify