Visit Blog
Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.
#ribbon of loneliness
flowerais27 days ago
Reasons to live: lonely edition
watching the sunset outside your window
practicing your favorite musical instrument
making delicious meals and feeling like a chef
trying out pinterest ideas
writing new daily routines to improve yourself
learning a new language or reading books on niche subjects
reading every morning in your cozy reading spot
going on evening drives and blaring your sunset playlist
walking in your city to find cute cafes and secret gems
picking a new artistic or sporty hobby to pour your heart into
doing really fun workouts to songs you love
dressing up in cute outfits or makeup looks without going out
drawing pictures and quotes for your wall
getting a film camera and taking candid pictures
sitting in the park and people-watching
searching for small reasons to regain faith in humanity and life
doing something special for yourself each weekend
petting your cat or dog
or petting neighbourhood cats that wander into your garden
the wistful beauty of watching things & people from the distance
buying flowers for yourself
growing cute potted plants like succulents
film marathons and netflix marathons with ice cream
feeling like a lonely indie film character
dancing by yourself
trying different tea flavors
writing poetry about your solitude
write surreal stories inspired by weird dreams
noticing stuff most other people are too busy to notice
befriending your loneliness and yourself
find beautiful stuff to appreciate every day & write them down
writing detailed diary entries even if nothing happens
spending so long inside that sunlight feels like a hug from the universe
appreciating tiny warmths more, like soup, tea, blankets and songs
6K notesView notes
firstfullmoona month ago
I have to be my friend or else I can鈥檛 bear the solitude.
Clarice Lispector, from A Breath of Life, tr. Johnny Lorenz
446 notesView notes
blairwitchapologist8 months ago
do u ever feel like everyone else is having a better time than you. even when you鈥檙e feeling happy and good
9 notesView notes
callingfeather5 months ago
Tumblr media
Being alone is a sort of pain you only understand when you feel it. It鈥檚 not just bottling everything up yourself, it鈥檚 feeling like you鈥檙e trapped inside glass. It鈥檚 feeling like your voice leads nowhere, your words are without meaning. It鈥檚 reaching out to touch someone and only feeling air. It鈥檚 a journey with seemingly no end.
2 notesView notes
robertpickeringburnhama year ago
been thinking about when clairo said 鈥榠 was fifteen when i first felt loneliness.鈥 cannot relate
3 notesView notes
snackbaited2 years ago
Tag drop ft. general
* ooc 鈥 backstreet's back alright
* psa 鈥 what the world needs now is love sweet love
* crack 鈥 that's so sad alexa play what's new scooby doo by simple plan
* meme 鈥 spirits in my head &. they won't go
* open 鈥 i just want to be alive while i'm here
* ask 鈥 echoing where my ghosts all used to be
* wish 鈥 to the people who look at the stars &. wish
* edit 鈥 there will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who i am
* give 鈥 i am waiting to become whole again
* promo 鈥 the trail leads back to you
* interaction call 鈥 we're gonna solve that mystery
* saved 鈥 my heart is a ghost town
* sp 鈥 support your local cryptid
* q 鈥 don't look back you may find another clue
* dash comm 鈥 not at home with the dead or the living
1 noteView note
flowerais8 days ago
A few things about: Loneliness
i. being lonely isn鈥檛 bad. we鈥檙e hardwired to want touch and emotional connection. being lonely is human.
ii. everyone is lonely. the girl on the bus. the guy who鈥檚 posting his amazing life on instagram. the celebrity, the friend, the parent, the popular, the shy, the cat, everybody. yet few people would admit it or even say the word. no one is too good for loneliness.
iii. loneliness isn鈥檛 something bad. avoiding it is like avoiding sadness or anger; it will manifest into addiction, desperate attempts at crumbs of connection. feel loneliness in its purest form. maybe it鈥檚 an ache, a thirst in your throat. sit with it. mother it.
iv: when you鈥檙e lonely and truly have no one, everything will be warmth. everything will be a friend. from the houseplant you鈥檙e nurturing, to the chamomile tea in your body, your bed, the guitar in your arms. this too is a full life. a good one. a precious one.
v: your needs are important, and if you can鈥檛 reach out to a physical being, reach out into an outlet: music, writing, art, nature. make your mugs and pillows your friend. make your books your friend. if it comforts you, have it in your life as much as possible.
889 notesView notes
firstfullmoon11 months ago
I鈥檓 cooking rice and beans cooking dal cooking lamb reheating pizza lighting the candles on the birthday cake standing quietly by the window still hungry for I don鈥檛 know what.
Often I鈥檓 lonely. Sometimes a joy pours through me so immense.
鈥 Marie Howe, from聽鈥淢agdalene Afterwards,鈥 in Magdalene: Poems
3K notesView notes
bakwaaas9 months ago
when jenny slate said 鈥榯here will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who I am鈥
9K notesView notes
poridge11 months ago
But then being able to identify and analyze my own emotions: 馃憗锔 I'm like ok this is just your classic loneliness 馃憗锔 it's nothing 馃Г
0 notes
sapphothetic2 months ago
everyday is 鈥測ou're going to look around and you're going to realize that everybody loves you but nobody likes you and that is the loneliest feeling in the world鈥 鈥渢here will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who i am鈥 鈥滐考锟糰nd when nobody wakes you up in the morning and when nobody waits for you at night and when you can do whatever you want what do you call it freedom or loneliness鈥 鈥渓oneliness as a situation can be corrected but as a state of mind it is an incurable illness鈥
805 notesView notes
angelisverba8 months ago
thinkin鈥 bout you
in which harry owns a flower shop and has a major crush on a girl who comes in to buy flowers every once in a while (and he鈥檚 too shy to ask for her number)聽
Tumblr media
word count: 17.3k
paring: florist!h and y/n
warnings: just some pinning and lustful yearning. m for mature...
author鈥檚 note: i鈥檝e been working on this forever. not to pick fav鈥檚 but i think florist!h comes second to sl23... hes just so.......well, you鈥檒l see!!
*聽 聽 *聽 聽 *聽 聽 *聽 聽 *聽 聽 *
When Harry was given the option to go on a playdate with his car-loving and dirty-nailed schoolmates or spending the weekend at his nan鈥檚 house, he would often pick the latter.聽
He preferred to spend his afternoons frolicking with her Siamese kitty in her wild-flower filled garden, sunbathing in the open grass, or napping on a quilted blanket under the large, round oak tree, with the kitty nestled into his tummy, keeping him warm. When he woke in the arms of his nan as she carried him inside the house for a glass of cool lemonade, he bore a band of pink sunburn over his button nose, and the blue and white striped Mickey shirt was sticking to the areas where his furry friend had provided an extra heat.聽
So, it was safe to say that from the start, Harry鈥檚 tastes weren鈥檛 what could be considered 鈥榓verage鈥 or 鈥榥ormal鈥 or 鈥榮traight鈥 for a heterosexual male of his age in current society.聽
Not that he ever valued those opinions, but their impressions rang in the back of his loving head when the women who he brought to the comfort of his home made hurtful 鈥榡oking鈥 comments on how 鈥榩eculiar鈥櫬 his choice of decor was or giving him prolonged strange looks before shaking their heads and yanking their clothes off so that they landed in a forgotten heap in some unimportant corner of his room.聽
Granted, he still got a good shag, but it wasn鈥檛 enough to fulfill his desires regarding any actions associated with relationships. He wanted someone warm and soft and kind. Someone who wouldn鈥檛 judge his home, his music choices, his clothing, or anything else about him. A girlfriend, not a fuck.聽
Long ago, he鈥檇 stopped caring about what others said about him. Adopting this mindset had given him some of the happiest and healthiest moments of his life (albeit occasionally, doubts merged with the ghastly shadows of his loneliness). Business at his flower shop increased as his charm increased with positivity, and a new life within him bloomed like a baby rose bud when he accepted that being single was okay. The ribbons of his bouquets bouncing with an added umf and the mist that landed on his skin when he changed the water in the flower buckets only enhanced the golden hue of his skin.聽
Harry even took to renovating his home a bit.聽
聽Coincidentally, his apartment was located on the floor above his flower stop, and contained a significant amount of singular flowers in vases or bouquets in empty corners to prove it. An array of pastel colors smeared on the once blank walls. Bambi pink in his bedroom, sage green in his kitchen, and a French blue in his living room. The couch was a suede papaya three-seater with black and white checkered pillows, and the coffee table was an emerald-tiled piece standing on top of a geometric lavender carpet, a soft contrast against the dark oak of his floorboards. Harry鈥檚 taste in pop-culture, art, and literature was displayed on the frames hanging off his walls. Pictures and posters of his favorite pieces like Matisse鈥檚 Blue Nudes and Goldfish and The Dance II. An enhanced, enlarged photo of maraschino cherries and a raven haired pin-up girl. Another glass table by the end of the couch held a silver candlestick and a small statue.
Sometimes, the miniature Greek statue he bought at a thrift store of a man with his nakedness pure and unobscured to the viewers' eyes made his dick bloat against the seams of his pants. If he stared at it for too long, his eyes drawn to the softened cock between thighs that looked so flesh-like even though it was carved out of some clay or ceramic material, his mind would travel to sensual, honey-red places that he hadn鈥檛 been in so long. Harry鈥檚 imagination explored- as cheesy as it sounds- the sexual aspects of the male genitalia, and therefore his own sexual expeditions and how much he missed giving or receiving a good fuck. More often than not, he ended up with himself in his fist, forehead sparkling with perspiration under the candle lights in his room as his thighs and abdomen clenched with every buck of his yearning hips.聽
The doorknob of his room was in the shape of an eye, the iris colored a brilliant blue. His king bed- no, frame, just a minimalist white base, pushed up against the wall with two tables on either side, both of them loaded articulately with vintage trinkets and ceramic ring trays shaped like seashells to hold his jewelry. His bedsheets were a stylish combination of pastel colors; lilac comforter, mint and sky pillows. Previously, they had been snow white sheets with strawberry print, but a woman he brought over said they looked like the sheets her five-year-old niece had.聽
He changed them the week after that.
On the windowsill, a pot in the shape of a white, blue-eyed kitty with vines of string of hearts kissing the floor. A mirror in the shape of a heart with a pink trim besides the lightswitch, above his brown dresser. In the corner, a bookshelf stuffed with books that spilled over the seams, and perpendicular to it, the home of his pet chameleon, Owen (he wanted a cat, but when he went to the pet store and saw the dehydrated creature, he couldn鈥檛 leave him there). A 16 x 16 x 30 inch tank filled with a branch that cut across halfway. It was full of all the things he might need, maybe even too much of it, but it didn鈥檛 matter because when Harry was home Owen spent most of his time hanging off the collars of his shirts or snuggled in the ruffles of his hooded sweatshirt on his shoulder. The small, color changing friend adored his owner, and only morphed into a mild red color when Harry didn鈥檛 feed him more mango.聽
The renovations occurred in his bathroom; a cherry-red covering the walls because it looked boring before (at least in his opinion).聽 The gold piping of the sink accentuated nicely with the darker color, and the sun seemed brighter when it streamed in through the window above his ceramic claw-footed tub. Owen particularly liked the misty showerhead stall in the corner, and as long as he kept his eyes to himself, Harry didn鈥檛 mind it if his green friend wrapped around the showerhead and enjoyed the mimicked tropical atmosphere.聽
For awhile now, it had been just him and his chameleon (and maybe his mum鈥檚 cat if she was going out of town and needed a sitter) but he didn鈥檛 mind it.聽
He got to meet new people everyday within the parameters of H鈥檚 Garden, and they all tended to overshare when it came to buying a bouquet. 鈥楳y wife just had our son, want to see a picture?鈥 or 鈥榤y boyfriend and I have our anniversary on Saturday鈥 and even 鈥榤y sister had plastic surgery so me and my dad need something that says 鈥榗ongrats you look like Kim Kardashain now鈥 how 鈥榖out it?鈥櫬
Stories ranged from sweet, to grotesque, to sad, to funny, and sometimes even evil- Harry didn鈥檛 like customers that gave flowers as a 鈥榝uck you鈥. He thought it was a waste of beauty and sacrifice. Flowers were living things that had their lives cut short in order to provide momentary satisfaction and life long memories to the receiver, not bitter feelings of revenge. Although it was still business, it pained him that such a pretty arrangement be misused. It was one of the cons of his work. He created what he considered to be masterpieces, and had no control over where they would end up, whether it be as a centerpiece for a candlelit dinner, or in the trash after the apology for a strong argument hadn鈥檛 been enough.聽
However, Harry couldn鈥檛 deny that he didn鈥檛 love his job, because he did.聽
When he turned 16, he鈥檇 determined that he wanted a peaceful life with a job that wouldn鈥檛 bore him. He wanted to be as stress free as possible, with his spirituality as a prominent highlight in his lifestyle. When he turned 18, he had determined that he wanted to be a florist, and began to save up to open his own shop with the occasional help of his friends and sister. He refused to take anything from his mother because he wanted to be the one giving her gifts and money and everything good after all of her sacrifices in raising him. Call him a momma鈥檚 boy. Harry loved his mother.聽
Online seminars and college classes became his best friend, teaching him everything he needed to know about accounting, stocks, and how to keep his business going. He was a businessman first, florist second. During the slow seasons (the start of winter and an awkward half-week between summer and spring) he relied on his investments to triple-ensure that he had enough money to stay afloat.聽
On his 22nd birthday, as a gift to himself, he signed the lease to the building that housed all of the pretty plants in temporary buckets full of flower food and water, and hired a graphic designer to design the cursive, golden letters that spelled out the name of his shop above the front door.聽
聽Now, three years later, he lived as happy as can be.聽
And he wasn鈥檛 lonely anymore.聽
Well, if you wanted to be technical, his relationship status was still a checkmark over the box labeled 鈥榮ingle鈥, but his heart couldn鈥檛 be fluttering any harder at the sight of one of his regular customers, and she was there, creeping around in his brain to keep him company.聽
She was the complete opposite of every girl he鈥檇 ever been with. She was sweet, kind, funny, and didn鈥檛 judge him for the way he dressed, or his profession. In fact, they bonded over things that previous women had鈥 slyly berated him for. The color of his nails, the lace of his collar, the pattern of his flared pants,聽 and even the sheep on his baby blue sweater vest.聽聽
She stole his heart the moment she walked through his door with a soft smile on her face, a sparkling gleam in her warm eyes, and placed it in her pocket the moment she said, 鈥渋t smells lovely in here!鈥
Harry, awestruck and blushing because well, she was pretty and wore a shade of purple that somehow made her hair look so soft. Two strands of hair were pinned at the back of her head, essentially keeping the rest of it away from her face save for the few baby wisps that rested gently against her cheeks like a lover鈥檚 caress. The stuttering, stumbling cupid鈥檚-bow-struck fool replied with, 鈥渢hank you. It would be my pleasure to help you with anything you鈥檇 like,鈥 and that had been his name, signed on the dotted line of a soul contract. Only she was not the devil. She was an angel.聽
But even then, it wouldn鈥檛 matter. If she was the devil, if she was an angel, something in between or something new entirely he wouldn鈥檛 care because he was half gone for her already.聽
鈥淚n that case,鈥 she smiled, and Harry鈥檚 heart sang a melody it never had before. It was like the sun beamed from the spaces between her teeth and tickled the fuzzy spot beneath his earlobe. She had the most amazing voice, tranquil and clear and ethereal. 鈥淚 just moved into a new apartment and wanted the place to feel like home. I thought maybe flowers would give it a little life.鈥澛
He vividly remembers that the color of her cheeks changed to that of what is called a 鈥榖lush鈥, but he didn鈥檛 know if it was a trick under the light, or a product of his wistful imagination. Her fingers gently skimmed the petals of a rose from it鈥檚 bucket near her hip, and one of the straps of the tote bag on her shoulder disrespectfully dropped away from her shoulder. He wanted to simultaneously rush over and fix it for her, and yell at the inanimate object for not being grateful of the fact that it had the opportunity to cling to her shoulder.
But, before either of these inner-conflicts met a sound resolve, her delicate fingers righted what was once wrong, and Harry cleared his throat, embarrassed because he鈥檇 stared for a little too long. He wanted so badly to ask for her name and how she liked her eggs in the morning, but instead he said, 鈥渢here鈥檚 nothing like a bit of something pretty to brighten your day. Did you have something specific in mind?鈥
He hoped that the meaning of his words wasn鈥檛 caught on her, or that would be totally embarrassing and 鈥榣oser鈥-like.聽
When she walked out the door with a content smile on her lips, his own heart was beating faster than the flapping of a hummingbird鈥檚 tender wings. He was sure that he had never laid eyes on a pair of lips like hers, neither the feeling that blossomed in his chest at the thought that she might be smiling just for him to see and enjoy.聽
Of course, it was a silly crush. One that clawed and gripped onto his sweaty palms with no sign of letting go. Maybe, Harry thought, it was because he hadn鈥檛 wet his wick in so long, and the interaction he鈥檇 had with her had sparked irrational, poem-inspiring feelings within the love cavern of his ribs. Because how could he fall head over heels with someone he didn鈥檛 even know? Surely, the swarm of hormone-pumped butterflies in his stomach was the beginning of a dead-end infatuation.聽
Harry went that entire day, appalled at the apparent angel he had the fortune of being in the presence of in her short fall from the tender heavens. He wondered where she placed the flowers she bought (an arrangement he was particularly proud of, full of lilac, delicate stems of lavender, and puffs of baby鈥檚 breath wrapped with a white bow) and where that tiny extension of him was. At the entrance of her home, right below the place she rested her hand against as she tugged her shoes off? At the center of her table? Maybe besides her bed? Where she would see the purple petals and white of him as he wrapped it every time she woke up or went to bed? He hoped- as much as it was a romantic thought- that it wasn鈥檛 the last one. He鈥檚 been so awkward, so pink. A blush on his cheeks he hadn鈥檛 remembered being there since the time he yelped, startled, at the unexpected pain of a tattoo needle, the artist pointedly peeved. Acting like such a boy.聽
Right before crawling up the steps of his apartment, heart still bleeding with love-blood from the deadly tip of Cupid鈥檚 arrows, he made himself a mini version of the bouquet he鈥檇 made her, and placed it at the center of his tiled coffee table.聽
A few days trickled by, and the memory of her face drifted in and out of his mind like a giant sway of fabric slowly billowing in the wind. He was just so鈥 struck by a slab of awe, stunned by her kind of beauty. Natural, the kind that hooks you in it鈥檚 purity, like the golden beams streaming in through transparent curtains on a warm spring afternoon.聽
Her strawberry lips curved elegantly under her nose, and displayed a smile that leaked some sort of heady drug into the air because the air was sweet when he breathed it in. And when he handed the bundle of flowers over to her, the pads of her delicate fingers skimmed the rough ridges of his knuckles. He wondered immediately what kind of moisturizer she used, and if it smelled like honey or lavender or peaches. She smelled sweet. Sweeter than all of the flowers in his colorful soul shop put together. The colors that belong to her, on her person and worn by her, were more captivating than any of the tones that painted the petals on his plants.聽
Owen got a kick out of this whole ordeal, though. Harry鈥檚 passionate mood had him divulging in munching and nibbling on things that tasted the way he felt; ambrosial, fresh and pure. It resulted in the purchasing of endless amounts of fruit, with many bites given to the tiny chameleon. Mangoes, strawberries, oranges, grapes, pears (Asian pears, if the store carried them, they were Harry鈥檚 favorite), peaches and guavas. The sudden craving for fruit might be explained as just a casual craving, but deep deep down inside, Harry knew that it was because he wanted to replicate the feeling that coursed through his golden veins when she giggled at something she happened to find funny.聽
He wished that he had caught her name. The girl had paid in cash (and left a five dollar tip Harry fawned over), so he couldn鈥檛 have read it on her card, and he was halfway between charming and awkward that he didn鈥檛 even think of asking for it until the minute the door closed behind her, bells tinkling in announcement of her exit. He wished for a hundred different things, but he was not the type to live in regret. Not anymore. So after about a week of floundering in her memory, he meditated for an hour, tropical incense on one of his bedside tables, and cleared his mind as best he could.聽
The next morning, he did the same thing. Woke up with heavy limbs, plopped himself down on his blue mat and stretched in various positions, his white boxers hanging low on his hips. His lips and eyes were sticky with sleep, and the back of his nose ached with cold air that he must鈥檝e breathed in throughout the night after forgetting to close the window (again) but the pleasurable twinge of stretching aches between his joints were the perfect way to start his day. They urged his mind to transform into the still surface of water, clear and collected from any unproductive-pinning thoughts towards a girl he would most likely never see again.聽
Even his clothes reflected his refreshed mindset.
Harry donned his favorite pair of flared聽 trousers in an earthy brown color, nestled snugly on his slender hips and around his thighs. The tight fit accentuated the way his back tapered into his waist, glutes shapely and sculpted. A maroon sweater vest that had a teddy bear embroidered on the middle of his chest, the small latte-toned stuffed animal seemingly childish, but on him it only directed attention to the spotlight daze of the velvety heart sheltered underneath his breathless plate. Underneath, a mustard long-sleeve shirt with tiny cherries printed on them. Some straight, some tilted or lopsided. His shoulders and biceps were hidden in the floofy bunches of cloth, anonymity given to the true thickness of his ink slathered skin.聽
He looked like a corduroy dream. A thick milkshake of patterns and colors, but he managed to pull it off.
A tiny gold hoop on his right ear gleamed under the morning sun coming in through the windows and a pearl necklace rested against the downy skin of his throat. Slender fingered tipped with a coat of pure white, with his ring fingers accented in a shimmery pink. Chunky rings adorning the base of his digits; a silver rose, a band of dancing teddy bears (a running theme with him), two gold rings with his initials H and S on one hand, and a simple ruby stud from his graduating class.聽
He looked good, he knew that he looked good, and was ready to begin a bright, healthy, non-pretty-girl-thought-polluted day. Even the old woman had pinched his cheek whom he had been assisting- a regular-had said he looked like a proper 鈥榥ice boy鈥 along with 鈥榳hen are you going to her a lovely girl to help you run this place, Harry?鈥. He didn鈥檛 have the heart to tell her that he had momentarily sworn off women until his broken sentiments healed, and they had a long way to go.聽
In the middle of wrapping a smashing set of tulips and fern stems with a cherry red bow, the bells adorning the top of the door frame dinges, announcing the entrance of another pleasant customer and giving passage to a gust of chilly air. Harry looked up to greet the customer with his usual pleasantries of 鈥榳elcome! I鈥檒l be with you in a moment!鈥, but the words died on his throat in a desperate hussle, just as the little mermaid had given up her voice to meet her gallant prince.聽聽
It was his own personal little slice of heaven presented to him on the black and white checkered floors of his shop. Hair loose against her shoulders again, eyes cast downwards to inspect a bucket of fresh daisies that tickled the space above her bare knees. How she could wear a skirt in this biting weather, he didn鈥檛 know, and it partially prevented him from continuing his pursuit of admiring her because the first thought his caring mind jumped too was, 鈥榠s she cold? And if so, does she need a sweater? Because I will gladly give her one.鈥 His second thought, however, was 鈥榟ow could someone be that beautiful?鈥. The third was something along the lines of 鈥榓ll my yoga has gone to shit, and I鈥檓 okay with that鈥.聽
He cleared his throat, tightened the bow around the stems of the flowers in his hands and said, 鈥淚鈥檒l be with you in a moment, love!鈥 His head bowed, looking at his work because he wasn鈥檛 sure he could afford the medicals for the paralysis that was sure to take over his meek self if they made eye contact so soon. Harry needed a moment of homeostasis, his soul adjusting to her dulcet presence.聽
The woman he was assisting, Edna, spoke, drawing him out of his daze, but he had been so deeply in thought that he had not heard what she said.聽
鈥淲hat was that?鈥 He asked her. He grabbed Kraft paper from the roll by the register to wrap up her arrangement.聽
鈥淭he girl. You like her?鈥 She was smiling at him, wagging a finger the way his nan used to do when she caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. 鈥淒on鈥檛 lie to me, I recognize that look. I鈥檝e given and received that look many times throughout my life.鈥澛
The woman was not wrong. With age, comes wisdom, Harry thought, smiling to himself at being caught. A dimple carves itself into his cheek, nestling onto the space above the corner of his mouth as if he had no choice in the matter. The apples of his cheeks were shadowed with a dusky pink, and the tip of his nose was twitching like a rabbit when it stood on its rear and sniffed the air, only he was coy after just being caught and wanted to avoid the question as much as possible.聽
鈥淚鈥檝e got no idea what y鈥檛alking about,鈥 he chuckled, keeping his voice low so that the intriguing stranger in the store didn鈥檛 hear that their topic of discussion was her. He moved over to the register to ring her up, and even slid in a discount he applied to customers he liked.聽
鈥淣ext time I come in,鈥 Edna said, passing Harry her debit card, 鈥淚 hope to hear that you got her number, dear. Don鈥檛 let these opportunities pass you up. Life is short. And who knows? She could be the one.鈥 Harry gave her the card back after charging her, and handed her the flowers, too. All the while Edna was grinning at him, shaking her head like she knew something he didn鈥檛.聽
鈥淭ake care, Edna. And don鈥檛 forget to change the water every 2 days with the flower packets I placed at the stems,鈥 he reminded her, sweetly wiggling his red-lacquered nails at her retreating woman as butterflies awakened in his stomach in a furious flood of nerves. The girl was looking around, her hands hovering over the up-turned faces of a bundle of lively sunflowers, browsing and quietly humming to herself as she waited.聽
There was no backing out of this, even if he wanted to. And he didn鈥檛! He didn鈥檛 want to back out. The girl was a customer, and he would have to approach her no matter what. But she was so pretty it was also intimidating. He doesn鈥檛 remember ever being this nervous while approaching someone, especially one he harbored feelings for. His heart was pounding so loud, he was sure it was audible.聽
鈥淗ello,鈥 he wanted so badly to add 鈥榣ove鈥 at the end of his greeting. 鈥淎re y鈥檉inding everything a鈥檙ight?鈥 He asked her, his hands wringing themselves, palms moist with sweat from his unyielding need to impress her. The pink tip of his tongue poked out to swipe across his full bottom lip, and soon after that his teeth sunk down into it, nibbling with uncertainty. Harry made sure that he was standing straight, body aligned to face hers because in that psychology course he took once, he learned that it was a subconscious tactic to engage interest and pleasant replies to attempts at wooing another.聽
At the sound of his voice, the girl jumped, startled at the sudden vibrations of Harry鈥檚 husky voice. Her delicate feet, he noticed, skittered on the floor from her tiny jump, and her doe eyes widened, shouldered rising and falling at a quicker pace than before from the new rush of light fear. When she realizes that it鈥檚 just him her hand flattered over the base of her neck and her collarbone in attempts to soothe her racing heart.聽
鈥淢鈥檚 sorry,鈥 he whispers, his hand clamping over his mouth, and then lowering to his chin when he speaks again, 鈥渄idn鈥檛 mean to scare y鈥檒ove.鈥 This time he can鈥檛 restrict himself. It comes so naturally, like the endearment was meant for her, and when a flush covers the bridge of her nose his first instinct is to coo at her for looking so cute. The second is a surge of guilt for having scared her to such an extent.聽
鈥淚t鈥檚 okay,鈥 she says, a little out of breath. The blush on her face was partly because she was embarrassed at her own reaction, while the other was that she had let herself act so freely and uncoordinated in front of someone that looked like him. Handsome and sweet and eyes so green they refreshed you upon first glance. Like the cool burn of water going into a mouth that had just chewed a stick of minty gum. 鈥淚 want to buy these flowers.鈥澛
God help him. Her voice alone was enough to make him melt. The lilts and melodies of her voice swarming all four of the ventricles in his heart with warmth, and every blood cell that passed contained a glowing heat, buzzing with her energy.聽
She points to the sunflowers, her gaze lingering on them with longing. A soft smile toying on her mouth, and Harry could see the tendons in her throat stretch as she inhaled to add another thought to her sentence, 鈥淒o you sell vases by any chance?鈥 The girl looked at him shyly, her eyelashes almost twinkling as she blinked, and his heart soared, 鈥淚 had a really nice one in the shape of a big Coca-Cola bottle, and I accidentally knocked it over, so now I have nothing to put them in.鈥澛
Harry is incredibly enamoured by subconscious gestures that take over her hands as she speaks, fiddling as if the vase she spoke about was in her hands, all in one piece before it was broken. He鈥檚 quiet throughout her tiny ramble, listening and taking note of her enticing antics. She鈥檚 looking down at the floor or the flowers or her hands, and when her eyes dance over to his steady gaze, 鈥淚鈥檓 rambling aren鈥檛 I?鈥 she murmurs bashfully.聽
鈥淣o, no it鈥檚 a鈥檙ight. I can look in the back for something if y鈥檒ike?鈥 He suggested, arrowing a thumb to the 鈥榖ack鈥 he mentioned. 鈥淒id y鈥檞ant anything in particular?鈥澛犅
鈥淥h, I don鈥檛 wanna be a troubling customer!鈥 She squeaked, concerned with becoming a nuisance she didn鈥檛 want to be.聽
鈥淵鈥檔ot a bother, love. M鈥檖romise. I鈥檒l go look f鈥檡ou. What color did y鈥檋ave in mind?鈥 He asked her, tone calm and soothing to reiterate his sentiment. She was not a bother. The only thing about her that bothered him was the fact that he did not know her name, and even that was his own fault for not asking her.聽
His hands rest on his hips, tattooed cross momentarily hidden by the bunch of his sweater vest聽 as he waits for her to respond, his eyes locked on her mouth, her own tongue subtly licks her lips, adding a sparkly sheen to it that only drove him crazy. Ever the jilted fool, his mind jumps to what it would feel like to kiss her, or what it would feel like if she kissed him in other places. What fruits she tasted like, and what kind of kisser she was. A timid one? With a patient mouth waiting to be broken open with the force of his own? Frugal? Opening her mouth and giving him everything she had to offer.聽
鈥淪omething pink, please. If you have it.鈥 That smile again. One that told a million apologies it didn鈥檛 owe, with her eyes pinching at the corners with whatever nonsense culpability she felt. Her voice was sweet, Harry thought, like wind chimes on a summer morning.聽
Feeling guilty for allowing such dirty thoughts to gallop through his mind when she was so鈥 so pure. Like an angel. Even her way of presenting herself was shy and sweet, yet he was thinking about kissing her. Was that perverted? She was a customer he had seen twice, and his mind was already running wild with luscious assumptions; a sunday topped with a red cherry of sensuality. How awfully dirty of him.聽
But! But those were not the only thoughts he had. He wanted to ask her what happened to cause her to drop her vase, and where she had bought it. If it was vintage, considering it was a Coca-cola bottle, and if she had any accidents while cleaning up the mess of broken glass. He wanted to hear her thoughts. No, better yet, he just wanted to hear her talk. He wanted to get to know her. To know if she was as nice as she looked.聽
鈥溾楥ourse,鈥 he mumbled, his eyes shamefully downcast to the floor. 鈥淏e righ鈥 back.鈥
Harry stalked off to 鈥榯he back of the store鈥. Truth was, there was no back of the store containing vases. There was only a small closet with boxes of items he might need around the store, like flower food, rubber bands, and decorative paper for the bouquets. A crate of bottled water for when he got too lazy to climb up the back stairs and into his home.聽
His home.聽
Plucking the keys from his pocket, a ring that held a ceramic swan his closest friend Mitch had gifted him with a humble admission of 鈥榮aw this at a thrift store and thought about you, H, I had to buy it鈥, and five keys: one to the front door of his shop, one to the cash box in the register, one to the mailbox, another to the front door of his apartment, and one to his car. The one to his front door was painted at the head with pastel pink nail polish, so it was easy for him to pick out when he was dead tired after a long day of being on his feet (spunky shoes that he liked to wear sometimes didn鈥檛 help ease the ache on his back, and neither did his posture).聽
The back door that led to the stairs had locks on both the inside and the outside. A deadbolt and chain on matching sides of the door to ensure comfortable sleep at night, and peaceful work time during the day. Not having to worry about curious children opening doors or nosy customers relieved him. It was a little amatuer, but the door made a loud noise when opened because it wasn鈥檛 quite level, and he had a tiny key so he could lock it from the outside, too.聽
A loud shucking noise resonated through the store as he pulled the door open, and then again when he closed it behind him. The delicacy of his dainty yet large hands were nearly comical around the tiny golden pin stud that hung from the chain, almost slipping from his hands with nerves as he slid it in place. Harry didn鈥檛 think that she was nosy or anything like that, bit if he was going up to give her a vase of his own personal collection, he didn鈥檛 want her to find out and feel even more intrusive that she already did.聽
He was a huge giver, and upon hearing her say that she broke her flower pot, his mind was already thinking about the perfect one to replace it. It just so happened to be sitting on his shelf with a bundle of dying lavender. Climbing up the stairs (the ache in his thighs was a mere twinge compared to what it was when he first moved here), Harry huffed and thought to himself all the ways he could ask for her name and number.聽
Listen, I really like y鈥檃nd would like to have y鈥檔umber?鈥
Do y鈥檞anna have my number so we can go out sometime if y鈥檉eel like it?鈥
鈥淚s it alright if I get y鈥檔umber so we can go out sometime?鈥
鈥淗ey, love. What鈥檚 y鈥檔ame?鈥
Nothing鈥檚 making sense to him. The pick up lines he had stored in his head for the rare times he would flirt with a girl were slipping from him. None of them seemed worded right to use with her. Too abrupt or too brisk. Not sweet enough. He wanted to treat her gently and to be worthwhile of her time. Plus, it also had to be smooth enough that it made her forget she was paying him for flowers or it would be awkward. He was a twenty-six man for crying out loud, not a twenty-one year old smile at the bar looking for a good time. This wasn鈥檛 a 鈥榞ood time鈥. This was鈥 a courting. An inquiry to a relationship. A rose rose in a candlelit room.聽
Harry opened his front door and moved in a quick jog to a table besides his hi-fi that held a translucent pale pink glass, fat at the base before twirling and widening a few inches at the lip. An image of a nude mermaid puffing out at the front like an engraving. Cuddling it into his breast, he grabbed the lavender, speed walked back to his kitchen where his toe banged against the metal of the trashcan as he pressed on the lever to open it. He hissed fuck聽under his breath and shucked the dead lavender into the bag before turning back to his door, closing it behind him, but not locking it because he didn鈥檛 want to keep her waiting. His feet moved quickly down the stairs, the one hand not holding onto the vase cupping a hand over the side of his hips that held his keys so they didn鈥檛 make much noise.聽
The button on the chain slipped from his fingers a few times from their repeated clamminess, and when he was ready to finally twist the knob, he paused to take a breath and collect himself. Harry ran a hand through his hair, fixed his collar, and dusted off his pants legs. He wanted to look perfect for her.聽
鈥淒on鈥檛 be stupid,鈥 he murmured to himself. He had a good feeling about this. About her. And if he messed this up because he looked bad or said something weird he would kick himself into a muddy ditch.聽
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and calmly walked back, 鈥淚鈥檝e got the last one,鈥 he said, tapping the tip of the vase with his pointer finger. It was a lie, right through his teeth, but he was happy to tell it in return for the way she was looking at him in that moment. His eyes rounded out as he approached her, like the curves of hearts that made up the heart-eye emoji, or the puppy-dog face. Just another physical display of his growing affinity towards her.聽
鈥淥h my god!鈥 She said,聽 鈥淚t's so pretty!鈥 The trapped crystals in her irises twinkled with bewilderment at the treasure Harry鈥檚 presented her with.聽 She鈥檚 got a smile on her face, and he can鈥檛 help but think, 鈥榳ow, she looks like a freshly bloomed white lily鈥.聽
There鈥檚 a vintage print hanging in his corridor, a 鈥榝lower language chart鈥 with different types of flowers and a sentence beneath them describing the messages they send. For example, red carnations= my heart aches for you. The description beneath white lilies reads 鈥榤y love is pure鈥.聽
She asked him if it wasn鈥檛 too pricey, and he made up some fake sale he had going on about a hybrid BOGO in which if she bought an arrangement she would get a vase included in her purchase (he added 鈥淚鈥檝e got a shipment of new ones coming in an I need the space cleared out before they get here鈥 just to make sure his fib is believable.) And he explains this so shyly. Harry can鈥檛 keep his eyes locked on hers because she鈥檚 staring at him with an intensity that lets him know she's really聽listening, and it makes him squirm.聽 The tips of his fingers tap against the vase, and he鈥檚 tripping over his tongue, which is ridiculous because he already talks so slow.聽
鈥淚 guess I was right in waiting then,鈥 she said casually, waiting for Harry to finish ringing her up.聽
His finger froze over the touch screen of the sleek, modern device (he wanted nothing but the best for his store) and listened to the exciting roar of blood through his eardrums at her words. I guess I was right in waiting then? What did that mean? That she was planning on coming back to see him and didn鈥檛? Of course, it could also mean that she was going to buy something else somewhere else, but he couldn鈥檛 stop the vine of ripe hope that swelled around his chest. And she looked so apprehensive while saying it. As if she was walking on glass and was looking for cracks as she stepped. As if she was waiting on him to catch on to something.
Harry cleared his throat and looked at her through the corner of his eye, trying to be as discreet as possible as his fingers continued their deliberate work on the screen, 鈥淲hat d鈥檡ou mean, love?鈥
鈥淚 was going to stop by sooner, but I just got in my head about it,鈥 the girl shrugged, and adjusted the ends of her cardigan so they wrapped around her torso. She had a different bag this time, one of those reusable market bags that was made up of holes, and it was filled with two books and a can of green tea from the vegan store down the street. Harry thinks he can make out one of the titles on one of the spines, which looks suspiciously similar to something that he has on his own shelf.聽
鈥淲hy would y鈥檊et in y鈥檕wn head about coming to m鈥檉lower shop, hmm? It鈥檚 hardly that intimidating,鈥 he chuckles to play off the dashes of pink and red that are painting themselves across the bridge of his twitching nose, 鈥淚 don鈥檛 bite, either.鈥澛
And he hopes that his wistfulness isn鈥檛 meddling with his vision because he swears聽that he can see a matching reaction on her own doll face. 鈥淚 know! I know, it鈥檚 just that I can鈥檛 help it sometimes. Talking to other people makes me nervous.鈥澛
Harry could coo at her right now. He doesn鈥檛, though. He nods and smiles at her before reading her total out to her, 鈥淭hat I get, too. But y鈥檇oing just fine with me, love.鈥澛
Waiting patiently as she digs through her bag for cash, he tries to not stare. However, it鈥檚 impossible. His eyes had a mind of their own dragging against the forces of his will to feast on her image again. Her hands and the tip of her nose. The base of her neck and gentle swell of her clavicles. The swoops of hair that hung in a curtain from her shoulder as her head tilted in search, and the how her teeth bit down into her lip in concentration. Harry counted the amount of times her eyelashes met her waterline in those few seconds of comfortable silence. Three.聽
鈥淚 thought I had cash on me today,鈥 something in her bag clicks, and she pulls out the rectangular card Harry鈥檚 become familiar with, holding it out to him between two deft fingers, painted with red hearts on a white base. 鈥淚 guess I used my last twenty at the organic food store down the street,鈥 she said.聽
鈥淚t is聽pretty easy to get lost in there, isn鈥檛 it?鈥 He took her card from her, and tried not to make it obvious that he was eager to read her name off of it as he inserted it into the machine. The embossed letters into the plastic read y/n y/l/n, and when he turns back to look at her, he can鈥檛 help the smile that spreads across his boyish features.
Y/n, y/n, y/n.
This is what it must feel to be let in on a secret that鈥檚 worth millions of dollars. It must, because Harry鈥檚 heart is soaring with a closure he didn鈥檛 know he needed. Y/n, y/n. Her name tickled him. Stroked him. Lathered him with the honey smoothness of the beeswax shampoo he bought at that fateful organic store. It was a fitting name. Sometimes, one could tell a person 鈥榶ou know, I actually thought you were a Amy or a Jessica鈥, because their looks and style just didn鈥檛 match the strength or modesty of their name. But not y/n. It fit her like a glove. There was no other way to make sense of the way Harry鈥檚 brain was thinking. The name was her.聽
鈥淲hat?鈥 Her lips quirk up into a smile and her eyebrows dip in confusion. Why was he looking at her like that? Did she have something on her face? Here she was, opening up to a cute stranger and she had something on her face? This, she thought to herself, is humiliating. Her finger dusted off non-existent crumbs from the corners of her mouth, 鈥渄o I have something on my face?鈥
鈥淣o! No, no.鈥 Harry鈥檚 careful beam simmered down from it鈥檚 previous brightness, and his hand nervously filed through the swoop of chocolate curls sitting on his head like a cinnamon roll. 鈥淚 just think y鈥檔ame is pretty thas鈥 all.鈥澛
He murmured the last part so that it was practically incoherent, and lowered his gaze as a searing heat stretching like saran wrap around his head and the divot on the nape of his neck.聽 Oh, God. He was fucking blushing. Great Harry. A normally favorite among the ladies had been reduced to murmurs and thick, uncoordinated movements.聽
Like dropping her card when she piped up again.聽
Voice as small and quaint as his had been, "you think my name is pretty?鈥 Her fingers are wrapped around the frail straps of her bag, tight enough that her knuckles were white and Harry was scared that she鈥檇 bury her fingernails into her palm.聽
鈥淚 think y鈥檝ery pretty.鈥 He whispered back. He can鈥檛 even bear to look at her in fear that he鈥檚 totally fucked himself over once and for all. His logic was this: what girl wants to be told by the guy they鈥檙e buying flowers that they鈥檙e pretty after he reads her name from her debit card? Especially one who (if outside female sources are to be believed) dresses 鈥渢he way my mother did when she was a girl in the seventies鈥? Jesus, fuck. He must鈥檝e looked ridiculous.聽
Harry opened his mouth to backtrack and apologize for being so unorthodox in his workspace, a breath sitting on his tongue with words ready to spew out, but the bell began to chime and it yanks his head from the register to the front and instead he said, 鈥渨elcome! I鈥檒l be with you in a moment.鈥澛
Flustered and full of regret, the flower connoisseur returned his wired gaze back to y/n, who鈥 was smiling at him? The kind of smile that said 鈥榦h my god, I can鈥檛 believe you just said that. Now please say it again鈥? Was he鈥 dreaming? Did he have to pinch himself in order to verify that he wasn-
鈥淭hank you... what鈥檚 your name?鈥 Y/n looked at the card from his hands and sunk her hand- carefully, as to not get her fingers stuck in any of the tiny holes- and there was another clicking noise before she took her hand back out. That angel-like smear of girlish happiness was still on her, decadently radiating positivity and secret affection. Goodness leaked from the seams of her bones; through the cracks of her breastplate, radiating from her chest to Harry鈥檚. He could feel it now. He could feel that his previous assumptions about her nature were true. She was altruistic and tender, like the inside of a bird鈥檚 wing.聽
鈥淗arry. M鈥檔ame鈥檚 Harry.鈥 This time, he didn鈥檛 hide his happiness. Even his eyes shone with a heightened, clear and sparkly shade of liquid evergreen. The joy that bounced inside of him like ricocheting metal balls in a pin game machine. His slender hand, fawn-skinned and graceful like the legs of a deer, stretched out between them. His mother had taught him that along with the first introduction of his name, a handshake must be present, always. Dipping his head slightly, and his words spongy with love-ditz, Harry rumbled, 鈥淣ice to meet you, y/n.鈥澛犅
She placed her hand in his, and was practically swallowed by only his palm. He curled his fingers around her, thumb and middle finger overlapping around the clammy center of hers. So she was nervous, just as he was. Y/n was trained on their embracing limbs, and he could feel a spot on his neck where the skin palpated from the rush of blood as she observed their entwined digits. Their hands moved up and down, up and down聽between them for longer than necessary until her chin twitched back up to meet his, and she blinked mawkishly, slowly, like the videos of rehabilitated barn owls Harry sees on his Instagram.聽
Then, suddenly, as if she remembered she was not the only one present, y/n jolts upright and shakes her head dazedly. 鈥淚t鈥檚 nice to meet you, too, Harry. I like your nail color,鈥 she added.聽
He鈥檚 cheesing. A shit-eating grin too big for his face and it carves dimples into the flesh of his cheeks. His name on her tongue had never sounded so appealing, like it was made for her and only her to say. Not even the turtle-doves that cooed outside his window in the mornings sounded as beautiful as she did saying his name. And she complimented her nails! She hadn鈥檛 scrutinized him like others had, instead, she displayed her admiration for them. No one- well, actually he can鈥檛 say that without offending Mitch- no female聽of his age had ever received him with such open-mindedness as hers. If he didn鈥檛 have any self-restraint, he would giggle. Instead, Harry pulled his hand back so that their perfect moment wasn鈥檛 sullied with bouts of bad timing, 鈥渢hank y鈥檒ove. I like yours, too. You鈥檒l have t鈥檆ome over sometime and paint mine, yeah?鈥澛
Y/n laughed, and he breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn鈥檛 been too bold, 鈥淚鈥檇 love too!鈥 With glee frozen on her, she turned to look over her shoulder at the customer who was browsing the flowers Harry had in buckets, 鈥淚 don鈥檛 want to hold you back from a customer for so long. I鈥檒l stop by again soon, Harry. Thank you so much for your help.鈥澛
The moment her hands reached for the wrapped bundle of sunflowers and the mermaid vase, a metaphorical grey cloud of rain and thunder manifested in the space above his head, and blocked all of the sunshine from spanning across his toned, lithe body. Did she really have to go? He wanted to whine. Maybe even wrap himself around her ankles like a child that refused to leave the park. They were only just getting to a mutual spot of comfort! Forget the other customer, he wanted to shout. Harry would kick them out and flip the sign to 鈥榗losed鈥 if it meant only a few more minutes in the presence of her candy-coated charisma.聽
But he knows that鈥檚 unrealistic, and settles with, 鈥渋t was my pleasure, y/n,鈥 a flirty wink (at least he hopes it is), 鈥淚鈥檒l be waiting f鈥檡our next visit.鈥 His taffy lips wrapping effortlessly around his smooth words, fueled by her welcoming receptiveness to his advances. It would be easy to be himself in the future, a little smoother and eloquent in his language and feeling. He was usually clear with what he wanted from anyone, and made it a pleasurable experience in all aspects for both parties involved (once it was three). Harry wanted聽to sweep her off her feet, and he wanted聽it to be an enjoyable experience for the both of them. Revel in that feeling of blooming emotions in a new relationship. A healthy one, in which he wasn鈥檛 receiving back-handed compliments all the time.聽
He wasn鈥檛 superficial enough to push anyone off the table based on looks alone, but it did help that y/n had the disposition of an angel. An ethereal voice, supple lips that looked so silky and soft they had to feel that way, too, and hands that felt so tender in his. Perfect for holding on a late night stroll, or over the center console of his car when -if聽they go out on dates.聽
What really hooked, reeled, and sinked him, though, was the fact that she was so nice to him. From the start, she鈥檇 been nothing but polite and sweet with him. Don鈥檛 even get him started on the way he swooned at the tone of her voice when he said that her name was pretty! So quiet and velvety, careful and calculated like she wanted him to know that it was okay. That she wasn鈥檛 thrown off by his comment. He nearly toppled over, clutching his heart with his legs jutting straight up into the air like a frightened goat.聽
It wasn鈥檛 until the bells stopped ringing the sad notice of her exit that Harry realized he passed up the perfect opportunity to ask for her number, and as he kicked himself over it, he walked with the perfect customer service face he could muster to help the other person in his store.聽
Harry was having a shitty morning.聽
Not the kind of morning where every aspect of his routine is a terrible mishap, but like the water being too cold and the stove not working or the bottle of oat milk in the fridge being empty so he couldn鈥檛 make coffee. No, everything was fine and rolling smoothly, as it should.聽
His water was the perfect temperature and ran down the toned bumps and divots of his muscles like the relaxing thrums of a lover鈥檚 caress in the midst of prowling heat. As soon as it hit his back, he released a sigh of contentment, his shoulders hunching and head rolling back and his hands roamed his shoulders and the back of his neck, rubbing away any aches that existed. The branch of eucalyptus that hung from the golden pipe of his showerhead fused a thick minty scent into the steam that fogged the glass wall, and the calming aroma helped the tendons loosen like the deflating limpness of untied shoelaces. He spent a few minutes just standing there, inhaling and exhaling deeply and feeling his lungs open and stretch beneath his rib cage.聽
It almost made him wish that he鈥檇 opted to use his tub for a hot bath instead.聽
He was able to cook an egg just fine on his stove, with dashes of Everything Bagel Seasoning聽with a side of avocado and a slice of toasted cranberry walnut bread, the same thing he had every morning. The carton of oat milk was brand new from his trip to the market the day before, and his coffee tasted the same as it always did. But鈥 he was just... sad. An melancholy soreness that eroded against the insides of his body, consuming him slowly but surely and leaving him with a lost feeling of emptiness and unimportance.聽
He thinks he might know why he鈥檚 feeling this way.聽
While he鈥檚 stirring his scrambled eggs, he鈥檚 wondering how y/n likes hers. Over easy? Sunny-side up? Scrambled, like him? Did she even like eggs in the morning? What聽did she eat in the morning? He knows that some people 鈥榓ren鈥檛 hungry鈥 in the mornings, though that鈥檚 only because they鈥檝e gone hungry in the mornings before for an extended time period, and after so long of not feeding their growling stomachs, their brain discontinues the signals of hunger. Harry hopes that isn鈥檛 the case with y/n, and that she鈥檚 eating the proper three meals a day every day.聽
And while he dipped a mini vegan chocolate croissant that he got at Whole Foods, he also wonders what she likes to dip chocolate croissants into, or if she even likes chocolate croissants. If she was a person who likes sweet treats, like strawberry tarts with powdered sugar over them or something lighter, like fruit cut into small squares in a bowl. When Harry was younger and would visit his nan on the weekends, she would pick fresh strawberries from her garden and cut them up for him when he鈥檇 woken from his nap. Sometimes, she would even sprinkle half a tablespoon of sugar over them. He wonders if she鈥檇 ever eaten strawberries like that.聽
It鈥檚 been a week and a half, he still hasn鈥檛 seen her, and his heart is yearning.聽
Harry knows he鈥檚 not in the correct headspace to assist other people with a cheery disposition about an hour before opening time, and decides it鈥檚 best if he writes a note on the door about how the shop wouldn鈥檛 open that day because he didn鈥檛 want to taint the reputation of his business by snapping at a customer for the only bundle of sunflowers he had, or dissolve into a puddle of love-sick tears in the middle of ringing someone up. Though really the notice just says 鈥楬鈥檚 Garden will not be opening today. Sorry for the inconvenience!鈥 followed by a frowning face and a lopsided, filled-in heart.聽
Harry drags his feet back up the stairs, his lower lip jutting out in a discreet but depressing pout, and grabs Owen from his tank so that the chameleon could curl into the shoulder of Harry鈥檚 hoodie while he moped on the couch to sappy rom-coms that would only make him think about her more. At least there was someone there with him, even if his small green friend only used him for mangoes and papaya. They sit together for the entirety of Romeo + Juliet, and when it鈥檚 over, Harry鈥檚 sniffly and standing up to return Owen to his enclosure and to clean because the riotous emotions that whirl within him are too much to process while sitting down.聽
Cleaning wouldn鈥檛 help him solve his problems, but it would help him cram all of his worries into a tight corner at the back of his mind- sort of like when dirty laundry began to overflow in the hamper and it requires extra force to shove it all in, only to come all back out like a memory sponge. His tormented thoughts on y/n could be compared to a dramatic inner monologue, very similar to how Romeo feels about his Juliet. But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and y/n is the sun.聽Harry has the play on his book shelf (the one with the side-to-side modern English translation because he was never quite gifted in the English department) and as he reaches for a bandana to tie his hair back, he finds himself resonating with a particular line: parting is such a sweet sorrow.
There was no need to change any of his clothing, since he was already dressed in one of his more impromptu outfits; grey sweats and a white t-shirt that read 鈥榳omen are smarter鈥 in black across his chest. He tied the red bandana into a knot at the back of his head, and lifted it over his chin so that it settled on his forehead, sweeping his hair back with a final push back. It doesn鈥檛 get in his way when he crouches to clean his various tables, spraying cleaning products with his shirt pulled over his nose, another organic product that鈥檚 supposed to be less harmful and smells like cinnamon and sandalwood. His shoulder blades begin to ache because he鈥檚 being a little more aggressive than he has to be, but the green tiles were sparkling so he was content.聽
He washes the dishes, mops the kitchen floor, vacuums the carpets, cleans Owen鈥檚 habitat, and tidies the mail that piled up on the table when he finally calls it quits. Scouring his brain for something to do, to keep him busy- his brain聽busy, Harry settles on the floor with his back to the edge of his bed. He鈥檚 shirtless now, and is in need of another shower but he鈥檇 rather not because he knows he might end up crying over the possibility that he鈥檚 scared y/n off. There鈥檚 a book in his hands and a Frank Ocean record playing softly in the background that mentions something about聽鈥業've been thinkin' 'bout you, do you think about me still?鈥 and it鈥檚 not helping his case at all.聽 聽聽
It鈥檚 no use.聽
There鈥檚 a plague of darkness buzzing like cicadas in his ears. He fears rejection and criticism. That maybe, she was only pretending in order to make the situation more pleasant so it ended sooner. Most of all, he feared that it would always be this way. That he would never find someone who embraces who he is as a person. Always met with mean side-eye glances or second looks of displeasure and confusion. It isn鈥檛 always that way, though, because then that would mean he gets absolutely no action, and that isn鈥檛 true.聽
Harry is very鈥 well-educated in matters that concerned sexual intercourse, but it was always a one-night stand ordeal. It was never 鈥業 really like you we should go out sometime鈥. In fact, he noticed that only time his approaches were well received were those in which he was dressed in a calmer manner. Simple, solid colors with sneakers or a t-shirt. Girls would flirt back, make good conversation, allow him to buy them a few drinks, and when he鈥檇 take them to his apartment they鈥檇 ask why he lived on top of a flower-shop, and if it was his sister or female-friend鈥檚 palace that he was crashing. Sex would ensue, but his heart wouldn鈥檛 be as present and engaged as he wanted it to be.聽
Wrong. It was always so fucking wrong, and God, if he didn鈥檛 get out of this apartment he鈥檚 going to breakdown and cry and there鈥檚 no one to call to come over because Mitch is on a trip with his girlfriend, Sarah, and his other friend Jeff is on his honeymoon in Sweden. They were the only two on his mental speed dial list during the rare occasions he had a crisis, as they were the two that Harry had ever really opened up to. Mitch was a bit closer to his heart. They鈥檝e known each other since their school days and practically grew up together (at one point they had small crushes on each other, which were confessed years down the line). Jeff was the owner of Winsome聽where鈥 where y/n had mentioned spending her last twenty dollar bill. He didn鈥檛 have an issue opening up to them. He liked聽opening up to them, but he didn鈥檛 understand why they were the only two that ever truly opened their arms to him.聽
A walk, he decided, would help him鈥 air out his brain. Calm down. Breathe a little deeper, a little easier.聽
He threw his white shirt back on, and a forest green sweatshirt that donned the emblem of the school he went to earn his business degree that fit him wide around the shoulders and felt like a marshmallow. Putting on a pair of beat up shoes, he shoved his keys into his pocket, hobbling and nearly losing his balance because he was moving way too fast. The door closed behind him with a slam, and even though he was still wearing the bandana around his head, wispy stray curls framing his face in a wild mane, his distress palpable through his appearance, but he doesn鈥檛 care. He just needs to get out and feel the cool air against his skin.聽
There鈥檚 a backdoor behind the stairs that will take him to a small alleyway that leads to a back parking lot where other shop owners that live at the top of their stores on the same side of his street parked their cars. He unlocks it from the inside, and throws his shoulder into it, desperate to her out. When it shuts behind him, he doesn鈥檛 turn back because it鈥檚 the kind to lock from the outside when closed. His fingers curl into the ends of his sleeve so that the tips of his fingers (nails now changed to a sparkling silver color) are the only parts of his hands visible.聽
Rounding the corner, he whistled the cheeriest tune he can muster. His lips are puckered and his cheekbones high with the extension of his mouth. He鈥檚 not very happy on the inside, though he remembers reading something somewhere that if you pretend to be something long enough, you鈥檒l eventually become it. If he pretends to be happy, then he鈥檒l actually be聽happy.聽
Harry rounds the corner of the parking lot and turns on to the main street. It鈥檚 only two in the afternoon, so there's people crawling in and out of shops anywhere. He even sees a man and a woman peeking into the window of his store, and he would feel bad if he wasn鈥檛 in a shitty mood already. He鈥檚 so out of it, that he nearly yells 鈥榞et your hands off my windows!鈥. He doesn鈥檛 though, because for a moment the woman becomes y/n and the man becomes him, wrapping a ringed hand around her waist and whispering in her downy ear 鈥榯hey鈥檙e closed, darling, let鈥檚 go somewhere else鈥 and she straightens dejectedly, pouting playfully and standing up and her tippy toes so that she could press a quick kiss to his lips.聽
That image fades though, and the couple continues with their stroll, hand in hand, and his heart is wrenching, writhing and trying to yank itself free from it鈥檚 place in his chest because it hurts too much to stay.聽
Cars whizz past, and he skirts in and out of people on the sidewalk, keeping his pace fast and focused. There鈥檚 no intended destination, he鈥檚 just moving with the intent to forget the pretty girl who haunts him. Her voice is all he can hear. Her smile is all she can picture. And the rest of her is all he can imagine, which is exactly what hurts the most. Imagination only goes so far, fulfils so much with uncertainty of what the truth was and what wasn鈥檛. Harry could imagine her with her feet up on the lip of a bubble filled tub, a glass of wine in her hands, but then鈥hat kind of wine did she like? Or did she even like wine? And did she even have a bathtub to stretch out in after a long day?聽
He curses the crimes he may have committed in past lives to deserve this torture. This unbearable pain that felt like he was being dunked in a slow-acting acid. He can do nothing about it but keep walking with labored will power. He passed his shop, and a bakery and a small thrift store that sells used clothing for way too much money. At the propped open double-doors of Jeff鈥檚 Winsome, he decides to talk in and browse. There鈥檚 so many items that smell good and taste good, that it was fun to just walk in and look.聽
鈥淏ack again so soon, H?鈥澛
Spinning on his heel, Harry comes face to face with Niall, a brunette, fit, Irish bloke with a chummy smile and a killer sense of humor. The two have brokered a sort of friendship, considering the amount of time (and money) that Harry spends there. Niall has even started calling him 鈥楬鈥 in silent homage to his flower shop.聽
鈥淵鈥檏now I can鈥檛 stay away,鈥 Harry attempted to joke, his lips pulling up in a weak smile, 鈥減lus, I think I needed s鈥檓ore of the peppermint essential oils f鈥檓y diffuser.鈥澛
鈥溾楥ourse ya do! You're worse than the bloody vegan mums that come in asking for gluten free baby powder!鈥 Niall cups a hand over his mouth and loudly whispers to so that only Harry catches his verbiage. There was a woman in the back of the store, looking through soaps in the limited kid鈥檚 section, the same exact kind that Niall was speaking about. 鈥淕o on and look around then, I鈥檒l be here when you鈥檙e finished.鈥 He said.聽
Harry only nodded his acknowledgement, and moved in between wooden walnut shelves. The entire store had a caramel brown color scheme, with only the inventory adding color to it. Macram茅 potted succulents and plants added to the natural, outdoorsy feel. Winsome聽had an interesting mix of smells from all of the aromatherapy based products it housed, but it only added to the appeal.聽
Currently, he held a packet of four lip balms that advertised to be 鈥100% all naturally derived ingredients with no artificial additives' infused with 鈥榟ealing power of crystals鈥, two of them 鈥榗itrine cherry' flavored, and the remaining 鈥榞arnet guava鈥. The brand name is something in Italian that he can鈥檛 read, packaging thick and a triangle made of arrows in the corner signaling it can be decomposed and/or recycled. He had the same exact ones at home, only they were all misplaced and-聽
A small, timid voice called his name from behind him, and he froze. He knew that voice. It was the same one he had repeated over and over in his head for the past week, waiting for her promised arrival with a hopeful heart.聽
His eyes go wide with recognition, body still and stiff like a deer caught in headlights. His heart begins to rump at a furious speed, loud in his ears like a million stampeding hooves. The packaged products in his hands shake, and then she speaks again, 鈥淗arry, is that you?鈥澛
Is this really happening right now?聽He鈥檚 embarrassed at having been caught with lipstick in his hands of all things, but he can鈥檛 put them back now. It was too late for that. He lets them hang at his side, and turns around. He hopes there isn鈥檛 perspiration dripping from his temples because all of a sudden he wants to yank his sweater off.聽
Harry turned, slowly. He feared that if he moved too fast she would fly away like a startled dove.聽
鈥淵/n鈥︹ He鈥檚 breathless, but he manages a pitiful quirk of the corner of his mouth, which he licks over right after, 鈥渉i.鈥澛
She鈥檚 wearing a dress this time, frilly at the hem which fell just above her knees. It鈥檚 pink and covered and lined with blood red trim at her forearms. A string of pearls glistens at the base of her throat, and her lips are covered in a sheen of lipstick. Her hair, however, is a tousled mess, pieces of it framing her face and untucked from her bun as if she had been jostling around. Her cheeks are flushed with the cold, and clearly that thin beige cardigan hanging off her elbows is doing nothing to keep her warm.
Y/n smiles at him, with the same shakiness, 鈥渇-for a second I thought I was talking to the wrong p-person.鈥澛
聽It鈥檚 quiet again, and they鈥檙e both fidgeting. Y/n鈥檚 knees knock together as she shifts her weight from foot to food, and Harry idly rubs his finger under his nose and sniffs boogies that aren鈥檛 there. She鈥檚 staring at the ground and rocking back and forth on her heels and he can鈥檛 think of anything to say because he鈥檚 so paralyzed by the fact that she鈥檚 actually standing in front of him, and looks as gorgeous as ever. Had he somehow manifested her presence?聽
While she鈥檚 hiking up the ends of her sweater so that they鈥檙e situated properly on her shoulders, he says the first thing that comes to his mind. 鈥淎ren鈥檛 y鈥檆old?鈥
Her head snaps up and she peeks at him from under her lashes while flattening a hand at her thigh, 鈥渁 little bit.鈥澛
Harry watches her tuck her hair behind her ears and wonders if she came walking from her apartment again. In the cold. Dress as she was. Not that he had a problem with the way that she was dressed! He understood that sometimes when people grew bored they used the smallest occasions to dress up and have some fun and get out of their homes. He did it too, sometimes. To clear his head. Hell, isn鈥檛 that what he was doing now?
鈥淒鈥檡ou need a ride home?鈥 He stumbled over his tongue to backtrack, not wanting her to think that he was a wierdo or anything like that, 鈥渢-that is if y鈥檞alking, I wouldn鈥檛 want you to get sick or anything like that. S鈥檅it chilly out today.鈥澛
Y/n smiles shyly at him, a blush on the highest points of her cheeks, and rubs the side of her face against the fabric of her cardigan, 鈥渢hank you, for the offer, but uhm鈥 it鈥檚 my friend鈥檚 baby-shower-gender-reveal thing today and I came with my other friend to some last minute gifts and some flowers. I was going to buy some stuff from here because she鈥檚 crazy about the whole 鈥榥o preservatives鈥 and all but, and I was also going to stop by your shop to buy some flowers, but I saw you were closed so I鈥鈥檓 rambling again.鈥 She sputtered out the last bit, and pressed the tips of her three middle fingers to her lips to stop the words from coming out.聽
Harry smirked at her antics, but it鈥檚 more of a repressed smile, and the rest of his humor gleamed in the sea-glass of his eyes like a message in a bottle.聽
鈥淪鈥檃lright, love.鈥 He鈥檚 still holding the lip balms in his hand, and he can feel the moisture that鈥檚 collecting on his palms dampening the Kraft like material as he gestured to her dress with the tip of his chin. 鈥淵鈥檞earing pink. I take it y鈥檞ant the baby to be a girl?鈥
鈥淎ctually, I know聽it鈥檚 a girl. She told me,鈥 y/n pips, shrugging smugly.聽
Harry laughs at her this time, 鈥淒id you finish with all your purchases here? I can make an exception and open up f鈥檡ou.鈥
鈥淥h, Harry, I don鈥檛 wanna bother you! Because if this was your day off then-鈥
He lifts a hand to get her to stop, and uses the opportunity to twist around and put back what he had in his hands. The conversation is flowing so smoothly now, that all of his previous worries are gone. He can only focus on her and the way her eyelashes fluttered and the crystalline sparkly in her voice.聽
鈥淵/n, it鈥檚 fine. D鈥檡a finish here? We can head over to the shop now if you鈥檇 like.鈥 Harry points a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the door.聽
鈥淯h, no. I just got here so I still have to go grab some things,鈥 she said, pushing her hair past her ears again. He thinks that she can probably tell the disheveled state her hair was in, because she begins to pop off a pin in her hair to readjust it. He doesn鈥檛 mind it, though. He thinks she looks cute. Angel-like.聽
He nods, rolling his hands into fists within his sleeves so that the cuffs hang over his knuckles, and tries not to trip over his legs as he backs away. 鈥淎鈥檙ight. I鈥檒l wait f鈥檡ou in the front, then. Take y鈥檛ime, love.鈥澛
鈥溾楰ay,鈥 she gleams at him, biting down on her bottom lip, and Harry turns away fully before he starts whining about how cute she is or before there鈥檚 a dent in the heather grey fabric of his sweatpants.聽聽
At the front, Niall has his chin at the palm of his hand, and as he gets closer, Harry lifts his head to see that the brunette is wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. There's a shit-eating grin on his face that clearly points to a mountain of teasing in the near distance.聽
鈥淎 little love-struck, mate?鈥 He said, as soon as Harry was within hearing distance. At least he had the decency to keep his voice down, he thought.聽
Harry flips him off, 鈥渙h, bug off.鈥澛
Silver glitter sparkling on his nails, and his gaze strays to the floor, bashful of how clear his affection was. He turns to rest his bum against the counter and pulls out his phone to appear busy as he waits for y/n, mindlessly opening Instagram to have something to do (and to stop him from glancing at her ever two seconds).聽聽聽聽
鈥淵up. I knew it. Have y鈥檃sked her out yet?鈥 Niall doesn鈥檛 stop to let Harry refute his question, 鈥測鈥檏now she comes in sometimes, after stopping by your place? And she just will not聽stop talking about how nice yeh were to her.鈥
Harry鈥檚 head snaps up from his screen so fast, something at the back of his neck creaks with the force. Instagram is long forgotten.
鈥淲hat? Are you fuckin鈥 with me right now?鈥 He doesn鈥檛 mean for his words to come as aggressive as they do, but the thought of her speaking to someone else about him is鈥 well, it鈥檚 thrilling.聽
Alarmed, Niall鈥檚 hands come up near his face in the motion of surrender, 鈥渘o, man! Dead serious. Think she likes yeh, honestly.鈥
He can only say: 鈥淔uck me.鈥
Niall is about to respond when a quiet voice breaks their stares, 鈥淚鈥檓 all finished.鈥澛
鈥淎lready, babe? I鈥檒l rig ya up, then!鈥澛
He鈥檚 quick to slide the few products over the scanning square, and y/n and Harry stand beside each other silently, their height difference laughable. Niall鈥檚 gaze flickered between them with no commentary, and his lips pucker with a wiggling smile when he finally announces her total. A bit too much for a small changing blanket, oatmeal-based baby lotion, pacifiers with a lavender infused towel attached to 鈥榓id with goodnight night鈥檚 sleep鈥, and a bamboo hairbrush with a tuft of soft bristles.聽
Nonetheless, she provides the money with a pleasant smile. Harry can see a bit of tightness around her eyes that suggests discomfort, but he doesn鈥檛 say anything. Niall hands her a paper bag with her purchase, 鈥渢here yeh go! Have a good day now, y/n! And be good, to Harry!鈥澛
Harry鈥檚 eyes widen at Niall鈥檚 last comment, and it takes every bit of self-restraint in him to not reach the other counter and whack him in the back of the head. Instead, he shakes and ducks his head in near shame.
Y/n, however, quips back with 鈥淚鈥檒l be nice only if you鈥檙e nice,鈥 and bumps her shoulder against his before walking towards the door, looking over her shoulder at Harry who鈥檚 smiling wide now, and trailing after her with no regard to Niall at all.聽
He shouts something after them about being rude lovebirds, but Harry doesn鈥檛 care. He鈥檚 floating after this heaven-sent like cartoon characters being led to a freshly baked pie with their nose on the scent. His rump high in the air like the Lorax disappearing into the light in the clouds, utterly ignorant to everything else.聽
When they鈥檝e both stepped outside, they speak at the same time,聽
鈥淟et me just-鈥
鈥淒o y鈥檞anna put-鈥澛
Harry and y/n giggle at each other,聽
鈥淵ou go first.鈥澛
鈥淵鈥檚peak first.鈥澛
And then they laugh again. Harry pretends to zip his lips and throws away the key, and she says radiantly, 鈥淚鈥檒l drop this off in my friend鈥檚 car really fast and we can walk to your flower shop.鈥澛
Watching her approach a car parked two spots away, a girl with blue, pink, and brown hair leans over to the passenger side, seat belt straining against her throat and when she sees Harry, she waves and it makes y/n push her back to her spot behind the driver鈥檚聽 side. Whoever this girl is, she and Niall have to meet, seeing as they can鈥檛 mind their own business. He chuckled and waved back, that girl laughing along with him and it made y/n cover her face with her cardigan covered hands.聽
鈥淚鈥檓 sorry about Charlotte,鈥 she said when she got back, 鈥渟he doesn鈥檛 know how to mind her own.鈥
鈥淎 bit like Niall, it seems.鈥 Harry said. He waits for her to catch up before beginning to walk down the street. Side to side, shoulder to shoulder. They鈥檙e so close, Harry can feel the warmth of her body heat through the fleece of his sweatshirt. It鈥檚 cold, and she鈥檚 still this warm?聽
鈥淢aybe,鈥 her eyebrows raise, and her head tilts towards him, 鈥渢hey should meet.鈥澛
鈥淭ha鈥檚 exactly what I was thinkin鈥!鈥 His voice rises with his excited agreement, and the tip of his nose wiggles as he scrunches his nose.聽
As they get closer, to H鈥檚 Garden, Harry reaches into his pocket for his keys, fingering through them so that they wouldn鈥檛 have to stand in the cold for so long. He didn鈥檛 want her to get sick.聽
鈥淚鈥檓 sorry, Harry. I feel really bad about this,鈥 she whispered beside him, looking up at him with doe eyes as she worried her lip between her teeth, the sheen of gloss adding an extra allure to her image at that moment. 鈥淚t鈥檚 your day off, and I鈥檓 bugging you.鈥澛
They stood in front of the door now, underneath the green umbrella cover that extended from the top of the door and down the side of the window. Harry waited for her to step into the little alcove created by the indent of the door before stepping in after her and jiggling the key into the lock. He resisted the urge to pull his lips down into a cooing frown at the look on her face. She really was worried about disturbing him. If only she knew that he spent the entire day moping (and nearly crying) over her.聽
He sucked on his teeth, 鈥渙h, love, please worryin鈥 about it. Don鈥檛 wanna see that frown on y鈥檖retty face anymore okay?鈥 His confidence was slowly coming back, 鈥渟鈥檔ot my day off, I just didn鈥檛 feel like speaking to customers today.鈥澛
Shrugging, he opened the door, and took a step back to allow her to step through first. Y/n ducked her head as she passed him with a murmured 鈥榦h, okay鈥, and he followed right after her, wanting to get away from the cold too because he knew that his nose was probably pink at that moment, but what he didn鈥檛 anticipate was for y/n to stop right after breaching the threshold, and bend over at the waist to pick something up from the floor, causing Harry to bump into her at such an awkwardly sexual angle with all of his momentum.聽
Considering he was half twisted away from her and in the middle of pulling out the key from it鈥檚 slot, the amount of force in Harry鈥檚 push from behind was enough to cause her to nearly fall forward, a surprised whimper slipping from her lips. Harry, determined not to see her fall, lets go of the key and reaches out just in time to grasp her hips on either side, pulling her back towards him mid-fall so that she doesn't collapse on her face.聽
However, in the midst of all of this Harry forgets himself and uses a bit too聽much force. Not to mention, the implications of their position makes him hyper aware of every single place their bodies touched, her small frame against his lithe, tattooed body.聽
This moment only lasts for a few seconds, but he can feel everything.聽
He can feel the easy give of the skin of her hips underneath each finger that touched her, the softness of the flesh on her thighs against his sturdy knees. The fabric of his sweatpants is suddenly non-existent, and it鈥檚 almost as if he felt every taught tendon of her legs, frozen with efforts of helping catch or brace herself. The heat of her groin is flush against his, and it makes him want to scream聽with a sudden sensitivity. Her ass is practically seated on him, full and malleable against the points of his laurel covered hip bones. Harry鈥檚 semi-hunched, as her weight also pushed him back, and the position is doing nothing聽to help his frenzied mind settle. He feels like shit because he鈥檚 being a horny, pubescent kid instead of asking her if she鈥檚 okay, but then y/n moves back into him to straighten fully and their centers grind. Her dress is semi-bunched at the halfway point of her bum, and he can feel heat emanating from her, radiating back on his bloating cock. He has to stifle a moan when she pushes herself up with the tips of her fingers.聽
Just as quickly as it started, it鈥檚 over. Y/n is dusting her bum off so that her dress falls and covers her modesty, and she鈥檚 beet red in the face, not looking at him. Which was fine by him, he was too ashamed to look into her eyes.聽
He clears his throat (something he鈥檚 doing a lot around her) and asks if she鈥檚 okay.聽
鈥淵es. Yes, I鈥檓 okay. This was on the floor,鈥 she squeaked, holding up a neon yellow notice sheet in her hand. That damned thing was what caused all of this?
It鈥檚 a notice from the delivery men that said, 鈥榮orry! We missed you!鈥 with a time and date messily scrawled on the dotted lines. Harry had forgotten that he was getting a shipment of several plants that morning.聽
Cursing, he takes it from her, 鈥渢-thank you. Now how 鈥榖out those flowers?鈥
It鈥檚 awkward, obviously, but y/n is severely silent. Harry鈥檚 still stuffy in his pants, but he ignores it and doesn鈥檛 add any fuel to the fire because there鈥檚 more pressing matters at hand than a boner. Y/n is the most quiet she鈥檚 ever been around him, considering all of her word vomits and ramblings, and he鈥檚 suffering. Definitely beating himself up in his head for having ruined the moment. He held onto her for a second too long, frozen. She must feel so embarrassed, and he was self-endulging like a fucking asshole.聽
Harry asks her questions on what flowers she鈥檇 like, and she answers by pointing or bringing a stem to him, laying it on the counter without a word. A mixture of dahlias and baby鈥檚 breath with a handful of feverfew to make the pink in the dahlia鈥檚 stand out. He lays them out on his work table, cutting the ends at an angle where they need to be cutted and laying them out on a sheet of clear, dusty rose paper. Three packets of flower food are strewn at the corner, and y/n busies herself by fidgeting with them. He grows concerned when he makes a comment on the kinds of ribbons he had stored and she doesn鈥檛 say anything. Not even a nod or a hum.聽
Eventually, he decides he鈥檚 had enough of her neglect, and pauses his work to devote her some attention.聽聽
鈥淟ove, I鈥檓 sorry about what happened,鈥 he said softly, trying to catch her eyes, 鈥淚 know it probably made y鈥檜ncomfortable, and I didn鈥檛 do much to make the situation better, but I just didn鈥檛 wanna see y鈥檉all.鈥
Y/n鈥檚 head is already dipped, so he can鈥檛 see her face, but when her shoulders begin to shake, he knows he鈥檚 utterly fucked. She starts to sniffle, and his eyes go wide. The paper crinkled as he set down the baby鈥檚 breath he鈥檚 holding in his hands. He hates seeing people cry, not because he didn鈥檛 know how to deal with it, but because he often ended up crying along with them. Also, he just didn鈥檛 want to see her cry. Harry wanted her to be happy, glowing, and smiling. Not dull with dollops of woeful distress in liquid form.
He rounds the corner and spares a look out to the street, wanting to make sure that there is no strange onlooker eavesdropping on their interaction. His hand reaches out to stroke her back or shoulder comfortingly, but he thinks better of it and drops his arm. She most likely would not like to be touched, considering what just happened between them. He drops his head, seeking face-to-face interaction, and speaks as gently as he can, 鈥測/n, what鈥檚 wrong?鈥澛
She avoids his search, and turns the other way while sniffling, 鈥測ou probably think I鈥檓 weird now or something after that.鈥澛
鈥淣o!鈥 Harry exclaimed, jerking his head back as if he鈥檇 been struck, and her words practically had. He can鈥檛 believe that she would think that and even go as far as verbalizing her thoughts when he worshipped the ground she walked on and didn鈥檛 even know her that well, yet. 鈥淣o, no. I don鈥檛 think that. Y鈥檛ripped, that鈥檚 all. Happens to everyone. If anythin鈥 I鈥檓聽the weirdo for grabbin鈥 y鈥檛he way I did, and I鈥檓 really sorry about it.鈥
Y/n dig the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, 鈥渢hat was so embarrassing, I should鈥檝e told you I was gonna stop or something. I always embarrass myself in front of cute boys and I never know what to do. I just-鈥澛
Harry interrupts before she can dig herself further another hole. He highlights a segment of her words, dropping everything else in hopes of changing the conversation and taking her discomfort away, and mostly because he was bursting with relief and happiness. She had said that she thought he was cute, just how he聽thought that she聽was adorable, and nice, and everything good. They were on the same level, their minds in sync. Did that mean鈥
His voice is airy and light because of what she had just admitted, 鈥測鈥檛hink I鈥檓 cute?鈥
She stills with awareness of what she鈥檚 just said, and a puppy-like noise seeps from the back of the throat before her hands sink further into her eyes, embarrassed. Harry tenderly wraps his fingers around her small wrists and pulls her hands away from her face, murmuring about 鈥榙on鈥檛 rub y鈥檈yes anymore, love, y鈥檊onna hurt鈥 with nothing but kindness. A millisecond of distraction speeds through his mind at the softness on the inside of her wrists.聽
There鈥檚 a trickle of blubbering in her part, her bitten lips bumping against each other as she attempts to backtrack, 鈥淚 mean- I- I-鈥
Harry decides that it鈥檚 now or never. It was a bit inconvenient, perhaps, but with her revelation his confidence soared and he was more prepared now to ask than he ever had been. So, he goes for it, 鈥渃an I have y鈥檔umber?鈥澛
A moment of semi-uncomfortable silence as the unknown tips the scale. Would she say yes? Would she say no? His head was spinning and he hoped his nose didn鈥檛 start bleeding or something because y/n nods slowly, smiling, and then, 鈥渙kay.鈥澛
He鈥檚 elated. He was the polar opposite of what he had been that morning. If only Owen could see him then. He doesn鈥檛 waste any time reaching into his back pocket and handing her his unlocked phone. They don鈥檛 share any words, only coy glances and flirty quirks of the lips as the tips of her fingers move on his screen. Harry can鈥檛 believe that he鈥檚 finally getting her number, after nearly a month of pinning.聽
When she鈥檚 finished, she clicks it off and sets it next to him with an added pat to the back of his suspiciously clean white phone case while he鈥檚 tying the flowers together with a loose rubber band at the ends to attach the food packets. He鈥檚 fine with working in silence now that she's not crying anymore. He throws occasional glances in her direction, and catches her watching his hands while fiddling with her own. Her brows were furrowed and her mouth was twitching.聽
鈥淲ill you text me?鈥 She asked him.聽
He鈥檚 careful not to bruise any of the petals as he sets them down again, pausing with his ministrations to pick up his phone. He wiggles his eyebrows at her and types a quick 鈥楬i. It鈥檚 Harry :)鈥. He hits send, 鈥渦ntil you鈥檙e sick of me.鈥
鈥淚 don鈥檛 think that鈥檚 possible.鈥 She shakes her head, and Harry鈥檚 reminded Rachel McAdams in The Notebook聽while she鈥檚 in complete denial of her feelings for Noah. The comparison makes his heart flutter, considering the romance of the onscreen couple. 鈥淗ow much do I owe you?鈥澛
Harry waves her off, 鈥渋t鈥檚 on the house.鈥 She begins to argue, but Harry stops her before she starts rambling again, 鈥測鈥檅etter go or you鈥檒l be late, love.鈥 He holds out the arrangement to her, tufts of baby鈥檚 breath poking out from between the vibrant dahlias like fluffy clouds, the feverfew looking like miniature white daisies in the center.聽
She looks at it, and back at him before huffing, 鈥渇ine, but you鈥檒l have to let me return the favor.鈥
鈥淥f course,鈥 he smirks, 鈥渨ith dinner, maybe?鈥澛
They鈥檙e both gleaming at each other now, 鈥渙kay.鈥 Y/n takes a step back, her body half twisted as she walks away, but it remains like that for a moment as her eyes rake him up and down, a murmur following, 鈥渂ye, Harry.鈥澛
His veins charge with electricity, and his dark taffy lips part at her actions. Had she just checked him out? He doesn鈥檛 recover quick enough to return her goodbye because the previous swirl of arousal in his navel was bristling back to life at the implications of that look. Calm, slow, steady, and her eyes remained doe-like and innocent.聽
She had to have known exactly what she was doing, whispering his name the way she had, looking over her shoulder and under her eyelashes the way she did. Deviously provoking his thoughts to begin a new with a reinspired fervor. The space in his underwear was growing tighter by the second, a blissful ache swelling.聽
Before any other customer stepped in after her, Harry locked the door, and jogged up the stairs to prepare himself a nice, hot bath, simultaneously cursing and thanking the stupid fucking delivery men.聽聽
Harry can鈥檛 stop thinking.聽
Obviously, this is a huge issue for him. He was constantly thinking, and well, who wasn鈥檛? The process of thoughts wisping around in his brain was one that he often put an unnecessary amount of energy into because he had no one to filter these thoughts onto, releasing them through a conversation to prevent the exhaustion of his brain and heart. A prime example of these mishaps being the depressing slump that occupied his demeanor that very morning.聽
This was different.
As soon as the apartment door was shut behind him, Harry pulled the suffocating sweatshirt off of his upper body, fingers hooking in at the collar and yanking it off with a swift tug. It landed somewhere on his kitchen floor, and he didn鈥檛 stop to take note of its final destination. Instead, his legs instinctively took him to his bathroom.聽
Chest heaving, Harry walked to the small window leaking sunlight and rolled the stick between his fingers to close the blinds. His thumb dipped into the waistband of his boxes and dragged them down lopsidedly, the tiger tattoo roaring as it became exposed. When the blinds are fully closed, the white extension clangs against the shutters from his aggressive release. His body was slowly being consumed by a raging fire stoked by the illicit images his brain conjured of the innocent, unsuspecting y/n.
His inner turmoil consisted of guilt for using her image that way and justification from the conspiring rake of her eyes along the upper half of him that was visible behind the counter. He was so fixated by her, that her look alone felt like a tempting caress along his skin. And it all happened in a matter of fucking seconds. That鈥檚 how gone he was. That鈥檚 how fucking gone he was. Harry guesses that the easy excitement also had to do with the fact that he hadn鈥檛 gotten laid in a while (he only ever gets lucky when he goes out to the bars with Mitch or Jeff, and they鈥檇 been gone for a significant amount of time) and the strong affinity he had for the girl who bought flowers from him.聽聽
Explanation or not, he had to do something about the problem in his pants. He was painfully hard, and when he shucked his pants off fully, his underwear dragged with the movement and pressed against the tip of his swollen prick. A darkened patch of moisture bloomed where the head was, and he saw stars at the short pressure. He wouldn鈥檛 take his pants off just then, though. He liked to stall his pleasure as much as he could so that when he finally did cum, his stomach muscles contracted and his toes remained curled for more than ten seconds.聽
He twisted the golden knobs of his tub so that the water would come rushing out at a borderline scalding temperature, and opened the small cabinet above the toilet for a bottle of almond and coconut shea butter bubbles. He uncapped it and bent over the edge of the tip, the cool, porcelain lip touching his crotch and provoking a choked whimper to leave him. Jerking his hips back, he poured the soapy liquid into the spot where the water cascaded, and retracted his hand when the beginning of froth formed along the surface.聽
The heady sweet smell permeated the air with the rising levels of bubbles, and Harry couldn鈥檛 wait any longer. Because he liked to torture himself, he closed his eyes and slowly dragged the hell of his hand over the outline of his cock, a groan ripping though the silence. It鈥檚 so painfully good, that he does it one more time, and he jolts forward. He removes his hand, slips his thumbs underneath the waistband of his boxers, and lugs the fabric down his hips at an excruciatingly slow pace. The head of his member smearing precum all along as he moves and when he gets caught in the ripples of his boxers the muscles in his thighs flex at the ripple of pleasure that zips into his nerves.聽
鈥淔uck,鈥 he hissed under his breath. His mind was a spinning vintage reel of slideshow images of y/n. Y/n on bruised knees, her mouth wide open and her own drool on her tits, the tip of his cock flat on her tongue as she pleads with weepy eyes for him to cum down her throat. When he finally springs free of his underwear, a hefty slap rings out as his dick collides against his abdomen, right on the space underneath his belly button.聽
There鈥檚 a stripe of liquid on the trail left by the mushroom head of his prick, and Harry鈥檚 eyes roll to the back of his head, throat straining as he hovers over the bathtub. He doesn鈥檛 remember the last time he鈥檚 ever been this hard over a girl before, and it鈥檚 driving him crazy. He doesn鈥檛 know if he鈥檒l be able to last as long as he usually does. As he swings a leg over the edge of the tub, the hot water encasing his calf, he鈥檚 thinking about how soft she is. The inside of her wrist and the palm of her hand. If she鈥檚 that soft on an external part of her body that鈥檚 used everyday, he can only wither away at the idea of what the inside of her thighs feel like.聽
Bubbles are swarming up now, swathing his thighs and buttocks as he sinks into the sloshing water. When he鈥檚 completely seated and satisfied with the belly-button level of water, he clumsily throws a hand in the direction of the knobs to shut them off, and reclined his head against the curved end of the tub with his eyes shut.聽
He hikes up his knees so that they鈥檙e resting against the porcelain walls, and mindlessly ruts up into the water at the filthy images he鈥檚 picturing, white foam collecting in sparse clouds over the math on his chest. He doesn鈥檛 know what鈥檚 gotten into him. It鈥檚 as if his body is being transported back to the moment his hips clashed with y/n鈥檚. At the recollection, his mouth drops and his eyebrows pinch in a silent moan. The feel of her flesh underneath his fingertips has him bobbing in the water, and the next ideation has him gripping the base of his cock.聽
Vividly, he pictured her on all fours, keening back onto him as her pussy enveloped him in warmth, a warmth that is almost replicated by the temperature of the water, dripping and making a mess of him but what鈥檚 turning him on most of all is the easy flushness of their bodies. He had felt聽the way her bum gave way under his hold, and he imagined the bounce of her flesh as he thrusted into her.聽
He moaned a broken call of her name with his eyes still shut, and heard the trickling of water as his fist rolled up his stiff prick, squeezing at the tip so that a few more droplets of precum dribbled out. With his thumb, he rubbed over the red mushroom head and lathered it in slow, leisurely circles, a throb pulsating with the beat of his heart as he returned to flicking his wrist over himself.聽
The way that he looked at him and the sound of his name on her lips seared into his memory. Airy and willowy, similar to it resonated in his brain with the fantasy of sinking into her for the first time, stretching her and having her preen and arch with desperate whimpers of his name for more. Harry considered himself to be 鈥榳ell-endowed鈥 and his size was a factor of what sent him careening over the edge as girls mewled over his size after he鈥檇 bottomed out. He wanted y/n to mewl under him, both of them falling apart at the seams at the mutual pleasures because if Harry鈥檚 this broken over just the thought of her, then he鈥檚 sure he鈥檚 going to lose himself beyond recognition after he鈥檚 buried himself into her velvety walls, slick with her arousal and so fucking warm.聽
Just as she had been earlier that day. There had been two layers between them- the fabric of Harry鈥檚 pants and her panties- yet, he was still able to feel an immense heat from the apex of her thighs against his cock. He needed more than this. He needed her, not just his hand driving him closer to the edge.聽
His jaw clenched as he bit back on a particularly loud moan, for no reason other than he enjoyed self-sabotage from time to time, and the speed of his jerking hand increased. His other hand gripped the side of the tub, and his legs flexed as he began to thrust up into his own fist, a trail of bubbles sticking to the tanned muscles. The cut rectangles of muscles of his abdomen glistened like freshly chopped cubes of apricot with the droplets of water that remained clinging to him. His breath came in labored, strained puffs as the palm of his hand twisted, tightening at the tip and loosening at the base.聽
For a moment, he paused and cupped his balls, massaging them as the fantasy in his head continued. His mouth wrapping around y/n鈥檚 nipples, her eyes glazed over from previous orgasm that he wanted so badly to give her. She鈥檇 whine something soft and quiet to match her personality, 鈥榩lease, Harry, please I want more. Need another Harry, please鈥, and he鈥檇 speed up the movement of his hips, driving deep into her and cooing into her ear about, 鈥榗鈥檓on, darling. Give m鈥檃nother then. Y鈥檞ant it so bad, yeah? Give me a鈥檉ucking 鈥榥other鈥, and she鈥檇 release a peircing moan that explodes in his eardrums while arching into him. She鈥檇 squeeze impossible tight around him, gushing with her own cum.聽
The water in Harry鈥檚 tub sloshes around his ankles, and the muscles of his abdomen clench so that he鈥檚 closing in on himself, sputtering on an outrageously loud cry that he can鈥檛 contain and his hand increases the speed of his filthy ministrations because he鈥檚 right on the edge. He鈥檚 about to fucking cum and the back of his eyelids burns with the possible variances of y/n鈥檚 face in ecstasy provided by him with his nose deep in her cunt, lapping at the sweet honey that spills with every whimper of, 鈥榩lease let me cum, Harry. I鈥檒l do anything, I鈥檒l be good, please let me cum.聽
He tensed violently, his face contorted painfully as white ropes spurt from the tip of his cock over his fist and onto his chest, blending with the white almond foam. His feet are braced against the edge of the tub and his head falls back and his stomach tenses even further, the final leaks of his cum dribbling out.聽
With the fuzziness that comes after an orgasm, his body melts back into the water that鈥檚 still warm, and his jerks with a pant as he allows his softening prick to sink into the water. The head on his hair is matted in a chocolate smear across his forehead, and his lips are a raging heart of cherry blossoms, parted with arduous gasps of recovery breath. His hands fall into the water at his sides, and with the lapping movement of the liquid against his sensitive member, he ruts into nothing again.聽
Reclined with his eyes closed and heartbeat slowing, Harry murmurs a final, 鈥渇uck me,鈥 at the extreme sensations that had raked through his body.聽
Somewhere in the muffled distance, his phone dings with the notification of a text message, and with a tired noise of resentment, he sits up and reaches for his sweatpants that lay in a messy puddle besides the tub. His fingers drip darkening spots onto the grey material as he rummages for his phone, and then he finally clicks it on...
It鈥檚 her name, lighting up his screen, and the text reads:聽
y/n <3 : so鈥 dinner?聽
Harry doesn鈥檛 think he鈥檚 ever crushed on a girl this hard before because even though he鈥檚 just completely physically spent himself, there鈥檚 something stirring in the depths of his tummy just at seeing the heart she put next to her name.聽
He couldn鈥檛 be happier.聽
* 聽 聽* 聽 聽* 聽 聽* 聽 聽* 聽 聽*
and here he is!! what do you guys think?? pls pls pls leave your feedback in my askbox! i鈥檇 love to hear your thoughts! and if you really really loved it, don鈥檛 be afraid to press that reblog button <3333
3K notesView notes
euripideez-nuts21 days ago
when fleabag asked 鈥渋t鈥檚 god isn鈥檛 it?鈥 it really opened up a pandora鈥檚 box of pain.
Tumblr media
like when dandelion hands said 鈥渏ust for one second you could really feel the warmth of equally returned love鈥
and carol rifka brunt said 鈥渕aybe i was destined to forever fall in love with people i couldn鈥檛 have. maybe there鈥檚 a whole assortment of impossible people waiting for me to find them. waiting to make me feel the same impossibility over and over again鈥
and when jenny slate said 鈥渢here will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who i am鈥
Tumblr media
art credit to on instagram
188 notesView notes
nobodylivessona month ago
Old enough to understand
Tumblr media
Fandom : Genshin Impact
Pairing : Kaeya Alberich x Male! reader
Request? No
A boy looked at the ceiling of his dimly lighted room with sadness and loneliness
"Again a birthday without anyone else......Happy birthday to yourself, [Y/N]" the boy named [Y/N] mumbles to himself
His voice only seemed to get swallowed by the vermillion flames of the fireplace
His parents once again in the name of research went out of Mondstadt and have forgotten their only son's birthday
[Y/N] stared some more at the ceiling and decided it was better to sleep than dwelling on these thoughts about something that would never change
So he got up and had just started to go towards the fireplace to extinguish the flames when he headed it
At first, it felt like a slight tap making [Y/N] stop but he shrugged it off but then he soon realized that the tap continued and it was becoming a little louder
[Y/N] slowly moved his head and sure enough, it was coming from his room's curtained window
He was unsure whether he should check it out or not, not because he was scared but it might be someone dangerous and he was just a child
Still gather all his courage and taking cautious steps towards the window before standing in front of it
He looked behind him that much to his relief the room's door was opened so he can dash out of there whenever he wanted
But it seemed that was unnecessary
Pulling the curtains apart in one go, [Y/N] didn't come face to face with any dangerous person, monster, or ghost
Instead, it was a boy whose silky royal blue hair was tied behind his back by a black ribbon. An eyepatch covered his left eye while his right eye showed his beautiful diamond-shaped pupil in the colors of royal blue as well
Upon seeing [Y/N], the boy's face turned that into relief while his lips pulling into a full grin
This made the flabbergasted [Y/N] open his window before saying in a whisper "Kaeya Alberich?! What in the name of Barbatos are you doing here at this hour?"
Kaeya chuckles a little and says while still holding his grin "Soo a little birdy told me that today is your birthday and I'm very upset that you didn't tell me about it. So I decided to pay you a surprise visit and grace your day with my presence"
"But that doesn't explain why you're on top a tree, Kaeya" [Y/N] says with a sigh while rubbing his temples in disbelief at Kaeya's reason
"I heard it gives a much better element of surprise and maybe I thought your parents won't like it" Kaeya says
This makes [Y/N] pause as he looks at the floor before quietly saying "Well lucky for you my parents are out of Mondstadt so you didn't need to do so much work"
A silence fell in between them both when kaeya loudly said "Well that means more reason for me to stay here"
[Y/N] looks up to see Kaeya's face shining in contrast to the dark night sky behind him
"I mean how can I leave you on your special day when even your parents aren't there for you today! I can cook us some stuff I know and maybe even try to bake a cake cause you deserve to celebrate this day fully" Kaeya continued while wiggling his index fingers
[Y/N] definitely gave a blank look cause Kaeya's grinding face started to morph into nervousness but before he could speak [Y/N] broke out into a fit of laughter
"Y-you hahaha cou-could cook haha and bake?! You huhuhu trying to kill me on my birthday Kaeya?" [Y/N] say in between my laughter
Kaeya was surprised but his face turned into a smirk quickly as well
"How hurtful of you to say that [Y/N]. If we don't try we won't know right? Even Diluc said I could make some decent stuff. So let me come inside and show you how much of a great cook I'm" Kaeya says while extending his hand towards me so [Y/N] can help him
[Y/N] look at his hand as a soft smile broke into his face before saying "Alright, show me what you got Mr.Kaeya but really this plan of yours was so stupid. What would you have done if I would have hit you thinking you are an intruder?"
"Hahaha, well I would have gotten a bruise or two but that wouldn't matter much. We're not old enough to think so seriously, [Y/N]" Kaeya says with a shrug as he finally entered the house
With a giggle [Y/N] adds "Maybe you're right"
"Ahhh, it has been so many years since then but that day still stands in my memory as very special" Kaeya said while swirling the glass with his drink, his charming smile plastered on his face and his eyes holding nostalgia
"What an amazing story, Sir Kaeya~" Venti who was sitting beside Kaeya all this time in Angel's Share finally said
"For your kind information the cake it seemed turned out to be a total disaster though after Kaeya tried to make it, as said by [Y/N] himself. And stop drinking, you aren't getting any more glass. I wonder how can [Y/N] handle someone like you everyday" Diluc strictly says as he wipes glasses while his back towards them from behind the bar
"As mode killer as always aren't we, Diluc? But no matter how the cake turned out, [Y/N] had a great time and it was evident since we still do this thing till now" Kaeya says with a shrug, not at all bothered by Diluc's words
Diluc grunts in annoyance but doesn't further reply
He may be drunk a little but he wasn't an idiot to get agitated at this topic cause of some words from Diluc
He has [Y/N] beside him to ensure him since then
The thoughts of [Y/N], made the captain of Cavalry of knights of Favonius who was playfully and confident to everyone make a face full of affection and loneliness
The alcohol has taken a little toll and that he hasn't seen [Y/N] for a while due to him traveling with Aether has started to make him feel lonely again
"That is an interesting face you're making Sir Kaeya. I have never thought I would have seen you like this. The all popular captain so much in love with someone~ Makes we wanna sing a song for you two~" Venti says while wiggling his eyebrows and playing some tunes from his lyre
"Hahaha maybe he does have some effects on me Bard" Kaeya says and was taking a sip from his glass when he heard someone slam open the tavern door
"Just how many times do I have to tell- Outrider Amber?" Diluc who finally turned around stopped midway with one of his eyebrows raised in confusion
"Sorry about that Master Diluc but I have something very urgent to say to Kaeya" Amber says with an anxious face while she softly panted as if she had run the halfway
With his name being called, Kaeya turns around in his seat to face Amber while leaning at the bar counter, the wine glass in his left hand
"Hey Amber, what brings you here so late? A group of hilichurls appeared during patrol that needs to be taken care of? Or did some treasure hoarders brought up some trouble? Well it must be quite big for you to come here" Kaeya before taking a sip of his drink
"It's not those two but-" Amber couldn't finish as Kaeya buts in "If it's not then you didn't need to come here Amber in such a hurry"
"Listen to what she has to say properly" Diluc adds seeing Kaeya interrupt Amber
"You don't need to but in everything Diluc~" Kaeya says in a sing-song voice as the alcohol finally seem to have taken a toll on him
"I already told you to stop drink you drunk head" is what Diluc only said before snatching the glass from his hand
This cause Kaeya to start bickering with Diluc
Amber who has been trying to say something but couldn't find the proper timing and finally shouted out of frustration "[Y/N] HAS BEEN HURT IN LIYUE AND IS IN A VERY CRITICAL STATE"
A dead silence falls into the tavern, Amber's message rining high among all and shock slowly seeping in the atmosphere
Kaeya who was bickering with Diluc in his drunk state felt as though his head was getting clearer and his body stops working for a moment
Finally, Kaeya turns towards Amber who was surprised to see him look......calm
"What do you mean?[Y/N] is severely injured and in a critical state? Amber if you wanted me to quickly you could have just used Jean name instead" Kaeya says with a chuckle trying to dispel it as a joke
But Amber's face seems to finally twist in pain, looking as if she can burst into tears any moment
Kaeya didn't know what to say anymore as he felt his mouth started to dry even though he had taken a sip of the wine earlier
"Co-come on Amber, don't joke around here won't you" Kaeya tried one last time
"Aether has......sent an urgent request asking......for you to come to Liyue" is all Amber could say while looking down as she tightly clenched her fist
Kaeya finally felt everything being too real and the world seems to start to spin around him a little
Kaeya tries to sit upright but fails and was about to fall when Venti catches him on time
"Be careful Sir Kaeya" Venti says while making Kaeya properly sit on his chair
But it all fell deaf to Kaeya ears
Cause all that is repeating in his mind is "He is hurt...."
And it finally makes sense
Kaeya might lose [Y/N], his only light anytime soon
With every alcohol out of his sense and his gears starting to work, Kaeya abruptly stands making everyone startled
He puts his glass on the bar counter rather rashly and was about to walk towards the door when someone held him back by his coat
"Where do you think you're going in a state like that?" Diluc says with narrowed eyes
"You already know the answer Diluc, so let my coat go" Kaeya says without turning
"How you're right now don't be a fool and try to do something rash to go to Liyue. Wait till the morning" Diluc says without any care
"I said LET GO OF ME" Kaeya voice says in a rage finally turning around to quickly grab Diluc by his collar
Amber almost leaped forward to pry the 2 men away from each other before a fight broke out but Venti stopped her while shaking his head
Both the men glared at each other and everyone at the tavern was holding their breath as the suffocating atmosphere continued
But much to everyone's surprise including Diluc, Kaeya's grip started to lose, his eyes softening before turning that of dread, and his voice when came out was one never heard by anyone
"Pl-please let me go and see him Diluc.....I can't lose him, I can't like this" Kaeya whispers as if even taking his beloved name was going to break him
Diluc was a hard man and yes maybe after all these years of what happened his & Kaeya's relationship isn't the best but he can't be evil cause Kaeya at the end of the day...........was his brother
"Go get 2 horses ready which I'm sure the knights can at least do so. It would be much faster to travel this way" Diluc says with a sigh by releasing Kaeya
Without questioning and with a simple nod, Kaeya was out of the Tavern
Everyone relaxes a little but the quiet atmosphere still loams as now everyone watches Diluc as he turns towards Charles before saying "Charles I need to-"
But the bartender stops him by saying "It's alright Master Diluc, you can go ahead with Mister Kaeya and I would look after the Tavern while informing the people of winery about the situation"
Diluc nods and just looks at the spot Kaeya was sitting before thinking "I hope things don't take a turn for the worst"
Kaeya was running towards the Headquarters of the knights as he felt his ears ringing, his mind drowning in too many thoughts
The only thing that was keeping him going was the thing [Y/N] said after Kaeya entered his room that night years ago
As Kaeya finally climbed inside the room, [Y/N] who was looking at him all this finally said something
"You may be right Kaeya that we are not old enough now.............But in the future, when we would be old enough to understand and we should take some things seriously" [Y/N] says with a sad smile
I put pain and genshin together folks :D I don't what it has to do but genshin literally reeks of angst even though the game isn't that angsty(I hope I didn't jinx myself) Would you guys like a 2nd part to this? It's fine to end like this as well, who knows
This one was inspired by this song even though the lyrics don't match with what I was trying to say in the fic
174 notesView notes
aquato-family-circusa month ago
Have to say, Bob's memory vault detailing his Mother's passing is really well done in how..disturbing the implied reason was.
Tia's Greenhouse is a really facinating and somber kind of memory vault for sure, the loneliness it invokes is potent.
The fact Bob's mom seems to have gone thru the same kind of heartbreak he did (I take that picture in the first frame, with the black ribbon, to be one of Tia's late husband) and is basically an example of what could've happened to Bob if he hadn't been found and helped at the time Raz does... it's really chilling.
The last few panels are interesting too. Like in a literal sense the vines are pulling out bottles because that's where she was drinking and hid the bottles. But also is that like? Bob's psychic powers awakening? Or reacting to the energy around him at least?
Is he having a Milla Moment of sensing all the Grief his Mom had been going thru in the same way Milla heard those orphan kids screaming back in PN1? He, Milla, and Compton too actually all do that thing in their memory vaults where they have to cover their ears because everything's Too Loud.
These thoughts have been swirling in my head for a few weeks now.
128 notesView notes
moeiswondering2 months ago
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
was i really such a lonely kid? loneliness + childhood
jenny slate / florence + the machine / tumblruser mango-season / the magnus archives, mag 154 / liv ullmann / anne carson
[image description: six images of quotes and lyrics from different sources.
1. a quote that reads 鈥渋 think i鈥檝e come to terms with the fact that there will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who i am.鈥
2. lyrics from no choir by florence + the machine that read 鈥渂ut the loneliness never left me, i always took it with me.鈥
3. a quote that reads 鈥渄o you ever think oh actually i am never going to stop being eleven years old and lonely.鈥
4. an image of a transcript from the magnus archives that reads 鈥渁rchivist: the lonely鈥檚 really got you, hasn鈥檛 it? martin: (no hesitation) you know, i think it always did.鈥
5. a quote that reads 鈥渋 will never forget the loneliness i knew as a child. for a period of my life i hid behind a mask. did not want to acknowledge any longing. now it is a part of me鈥攕omething i can share. both the loneliness and the longing.鈥
6. a quote that reads 鈥渋 feel so lonely, like childhood again.鈥
end id.]
164 notesView notes
firstfullmoon4 days ago
[You] are bearing your solitude more heavily than usual. But when you notice that it is vast, you should be happy; for what 鈥 you should ask yourself 鈥 would a solitude be that was not vast; there is only one solitude, and it is vast, heavy, difficult to bear,
Rainer Maria Rilke, from Letters to a Young Poet
148 notesView notes