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thef1diary · 9 hours

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While It Lasts | L. Norris - 2

Summary: Lando expected nothing more than relaxation and fun for two weeks during his summer break. What he didn’t anticipate was meeting you, someone who felt like a perfect match in every way. As the days quickly passed, he found himself falling deeply for you, only to be confronted with the heart-wrenching reality that your time together was far more limited than he ever imagined.

Part 1

PLEASE READ: This story contains themes of loss, morality, fear, death, relationship strains, mental health struggles, including significant emotional impact related to the reader’s journey with a chronic illness and some scenes are set in hospitals. Reminder that this is simply a work of fiction, please don’t take it to heart.

wc: 16.5k

You woke up to the faint clattering of dishes in the kitchen. Groggily, you opened your eyes, feeling the stiffness from sleeping awkwardly on the couch. Stretching, you realized Isaac was already up, making breakfast.

“Isaac,” you called out, your voice hoarse from sleep.

He didn’t seem to hear you, the noise of the kitchen drowning out your voice. With a sigh, you decided to hobble over to him, each step a reminder of your twisted ankle and the awkward position you’d slept in.

Reaching the kitchen, you leaned against the doorway for support. “Isaac,” you said a bit louder.

He turned, surprise and concern crossing his face. “You should be resting.”

“I know,” you replied, wincing slightly as you moved closer. “But we need to talk.”

Isaac set down the pan he was holding, his expression turning serious. “Alright, let’s talk.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the words you were about to say. “Isaac, I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday. I know you’re just trying to take care of me.”

He shook his head, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and pain. “Every single day for the past four years, I have this fear that you’ll leave me at any moment. Yes, it is selfish, very selfish because I truly don’t know what you’re feeling, what you’re going through. But while you might’ve accepted that you’re dying, I didn’t! I just wanted to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, so you can live another day, so you can see me graduate college, see me – I don’t know – find the love of my life or get married. I’m sorry. You’re my sister, you are the last person I need to act like I’m on eggshells around you.”

Your heart ached at his words, the depth of his fear and love hitting you hard. “Your fear is valid, Isaac. Just because I’ve accepted it, doesn’t mean that I like it. But it won’t change fate, will it? It won’t change the fact that I’ve been dealt a shitty hand at life. All I know is that when I’m taking my last breaths, whenever it is, I don’t want to regret anything. I don’t want to regret not living enough because of the fear of dying. Just because I have a stupid countdown doesn’t mean I should be afraid to live.”

Isaac looked at you, his eyes moist with unshed tears. “I just want you to be here, to live as long as possible.”

“I know,” you whispered, reaching out to engulf him in a hug. “I’ll try to take better care of myself.”

He nodded slowly, his grip tightening around your body. “And I’ll try to be less overprotective, I promise, I’ll try.”

You smiled, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Thank you, Isaac.”

As you stood there, holding onto each other in the quiet morning light, you felt a sense of peace. When he pulled back, he scrunched up his face. “But it’ll be harder to explain that to mum and dad.”

You shrugged, “they’ll get it, one day, hopefully.”

After breakfast, Isaac announced he needed to run some errands in town. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Take your time.”

As the door closed behind him, the house fell into a quiet lull. You settled back on the couch, trying to get comfortable and rest your ankle. Just as you were starting to drift off, the doorbell rang.

With a sigh, you swung your legs off the couch and hobbled toward the door, wincing with each step. When you finally reached it and pulled it open, you were greeted by Lando’s mischievous grin that quickly turned into worry.

“Hey,” he said, his brow furrowed as he took in your hobbling form. “You shouldn’t be up and about. How’s the ankle?”

“Hey, Lando,” you replied, leaning against the doorframe for support. “It’s sore but I’ll survive. Come in.”

He stepped inside, immediately reaching out to steady you. “Here, let me help you back to the couch.”

You nodded, grateful for his support. You leaned against him and held his hand as he guided you back to your spot on the couch. You couldn’t help but notice the warmth of his touch and the genuine concern in his eyes.

“Thanks,” you said once you were settled again. “What brings you here?”

Lando shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re not getting into any more trouble.”

You chuckled softly. “Well, I did manage to twist my ankle pretty badly.”

His expression turned serious. “I know. I felt terrible leaving you like that last night.”

“It’s alright, I was already sleeping before you left,” you waved off his concern.

“Speaking of falling asleep…” Lando began, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I couldn’t resist stopping by the bookstore you mentioned. Figured I’d pick up a couple of books to keep us entertained.”

You grinned, appreciating his thoughtfulness. “You went to the bookstore? You really are determined to explore every corner of this town, aren’t you?”

Lando nodded enthusiastically, pulling the books out of the bag he carried when he entered. “Of course! And since my favorite tour guide is out of commission,” he said, gesturing to your injured ankle, “I had to take matters into my own hands.”

He revealed two identical books, holding them up with a grin. “Thought we could have a reading competition. Winner gets bragging rights.”

You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. “It’s always a competition with you, isn’t it?”

Lando shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What can I say? I’m a competitive guy. Comes with the territory. Oh, and by the way,” he added casually, “did I mention I’m a Formula 1 driver?”

You blinked, surprised by the revelation. “Wait, seriously?”

Lando grinned, “yeah, been racing for quite a few years now.”

You nodded, a smile spreading on your face when he delved into the details, and it’s evident that he loves talking about his passion.

“That actually makes so much sense, that’s how you know the Sainz family, right?”

Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Yes, but how do you know them?”

You laughed softly, and it quickly became a sound Lando loved hearing. “I live next to the villa, remember?” You teased jokingly.

A sheepish smile grew on his face, “oh, right. So what, you’ve met Carlos too? And here I thought I was the first F1 driver you’ve met.”

You nodded. “Yeah, in passing. We never really talked much, but I’ve seen him and his family around often.”

Then you leaned closer and whispered, “but don’t tell him that he may no longer be my favourite.”

He quirked up an eyebrow, leaning in as well and responding with the same amount of energy. “Then who is?”

You shrugged, leaning back with a small smile and a faint blush covering your cheeks. “I think I might have to watch a race to decide.”

As you continued chatting with Lando, the pain in your ankle seemed to fade into the background. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself drawn into his stories about racing, the thrill of waiting for the lights to go out, and the camaraderie between his fellow drivers.

Eventually, you decided to start the reading competition. Both of you settled into the couch with your respective books, determined to see who would finish first. But as the minutes ticked by, Lando found it hard to focus on his book. His gaze kept drifting to you, watching the way your eyes moved across the pages and the little expressions that flitted across your face as you read.

He couldn’t help but want to talk to you, to hear more about your thoughts. Finally, he put his book down with a sigh, unable to concentrate any longer.

“So, what’s next on the agenda once your ankle’s better? Something less adventurous, perhaps?”

You placed your book down after marking your page, chuckling as you looked at him. “Can’t focus, can you?”

“Not with you around,” he shrugged casually.

Trapping your lip between your teeth to prevent a smile from growing on your face, you chose to focus on the question he asked.

“There’s this amazing seafood restaurant nearby. It’s a local favorite, and the food is incredible. Fresh catches of the day, and the chef’s specials are to die for. You’ll love it!”

As you spoke, you didn’t notice Lando’s face pale slightly. He wasn’t a fan of seafood, but he couldn’t bring himself to dampen your excitement by telling you the truth. The way your eyes lit up talking about the place made him want to experience it with you, even if he never wanted to be around any sort of fish.

“Sounds great,” Lando said, forcing a smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

You clapped your hands together, beaming. “You won’t regret it, I promise. The view from the restaurant is amazing too. It’s right by the water, and you can see the boats coming in and out of the harbor. It’s a perfect spot for a relaxing evening.”

Lando nodded, matching your enthusiasm as best he could. “That sounds perfect. I can’t wait.”

“How about we go there for dinner tomorrow?” you suggested, your excitement bubbling over.

“Tomorrow night it is,” Lando agreed, his smile genuine due to your smile despite his seafood reservations.

The next evening came around too quickly for Lando’s liking. Instead of stressing over what to wear this time, he was worried about the food itself. The prospect of seafood was daunting, but he didn’t want to let you down. As he rummaged through his closet, Max walked into the room with a teasing grin.

“Mate, you like her so much that you’d willingly eat seafood for her?” Max said, leaning against the doorframe.

Lando looked up, a mixture of nerves and amusement on his face. “Yeah, well, it’s not just about the food. It’s about the company.”

He chuckled, “you’re a brave man.” Then he sighed exaggeratedly, “oh the things you do in love.”

Lando’s back straightened suddenly. “It’s not love… yet. We’re just hanging out.”

Max’s eyes widened since he didn’t expect such an answer, “wait a second, ‘yet’? Do you actually like her?”

Lando shrugged, trying to play it off, but the slight smile on his face betrayed him. “I don’t know, Max. Maybe. It’s… complicated.”

Max studied him for a moment, then a grin spread across his face. “I should’ve seen it coming, but she’s great! Maybe even a little out of your league,” he spoke with a teasing grin, that only made Lando roll his eyes when he saw his best friend’s face.

“She’s beautiful,” he said softly, not denying Max’s words.

Max's teasing grin softened into a more serious expression. "Hey, I'm serious though. You don't have to go through with this if you're not comfortable. You shouldn't feel like you have to force yourself to like something just to impress her."

Lando appreciated Max's concern, but he shook his head. "It's not about impressing her. I want to spend time with her, Max. She's... she's different."

Max raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in his eyes. "Different, huh? Well, just be careful, okay?"

Lando nodded, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty and anticipation. "Of course."

As Max left the room, Lando took a moment to collect his thoughts. He knew Max was just looking out for him, but there was something about you that made him want to take the risk. With a determined smile, he finished getting ready and was about to head out to meet you, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement building inside him.

Right as he was leaving the villa, Max’s voice rang out. “If you need an excuse to skip out, I can come up with something. No need to torture yourself over fish.”

Lando shook his head, appreciating the concern. “Thanks, Max, but I’ll be fine. I just… I don’t want to ruin this. She’s really excited about the place.”

A very short drive later, Lando knocked on your door, and when you opened it, his eyes widened appreciatively as they swept over you. You wore a simple yet elegant dress, the color complementing your features perfectly.

“Wow,” he breathed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You look amazing.”

Blushing slightly at his compliment, you thanked him and closed the door behind you as you left your cottage, walking towards Lando’s car. “Thanks, Lando, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

He fell in step beside you, still admiring your outfit. “So, do you have a hot date or something?”

You chuckled at his question, shaking your head. “Nope, no dates, just going out with some racer guy, not sure if you know him.”

Sitting in his car, he instantly looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Hmm, sounds like a great guy! Is he interesting?”

You laughed, nudging him as he drove. “Very.”

When you arrived at the restaurant, the sun was just starting to set, casting a golden glow over the water. It was nestled right by the harbor, with a perfect view of the boats coming and going. Lando parked the car and helped you out, his hand lingering a moment longer than necessary as he offered support for your still-healing ankle. Even though you could walk without needing support again, you didn’t mind holding onto his hand.

“Wow, this place is beautiful,” he said, genuinely impressed by the picturesque setting.

“I told you,” you replied with a satisfied smile. “Come on, let’s get a table by the window.”

The interior of the restaurant was cozy, with soft lighting and a gentle murmur of conversation filling the air. A small fish tank adorned one corner of the room, the colorful fish swimming lazily in the water. Lando couldn’t help but chuckle nervously as he glanced at the tank.

“Kinda cruel, isn’t it?” he joked, nodding towards the fish tank. "Having live fish in a seafood restaurant," Lando remarked with a wry smile.

Still, you laughed, nodding in agreement. "The owners think it adds to the ambiance."

As you were seated and handed the menus, Lando took a deep breath, steeling himself for the seafood-heavy options. But when he looked across the table and saw your excited expression, he hoped it would all be worth it. This evening was about enjoying your company, and he was determined to do just that, and perhaps if everything went very well, he might casually mention that he’d like to take you out on an actual date.

As the waiter took your orders, you couldn't contain your excitement, eager to indulge in the fresh seafood the restaurant had to offer. Lando, however, seemed a bit hesitant, but he eventually settled on a dish, trying to mask his apprehension with a smile.

Once the food arrived, you dug in eagerly, savoring each bite of the delicious seafood. However, as you glanced over at Lando, you noticed something was off. His attempts to conceal his discomfort were evident, and you could see the struggle on his face as he hesitantly bit into a shrimp, his expression revealing disgust as he tried to swallow it.

Concerned, you leaned closer to him, your voice soft with worry. "Is everything okay, Lando?"

He hesitated, clearly torn, spitting the piece of shrimp into a tissue before finally admitting, "I'm sorry, I just... I can't do seafood."

Surprised by his confession, you felt a pang of guilt wash over you. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Lando shrugged, looking sheepish. "I didn't want to ruin your plans, you looked so excited to come here and I thought I could handle it, but..."

Without hesitation, you reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Leading him out of the restaurant, you felt a mix of disappointment and concern. Disappointed that he didn’t feel comfortable sharing such a simple detail with you, and concerned that he attempted to eat a shrimp, knowing he disliked it, all for your sake.

But as you walked together, you were determined to salvage the evening because you didn’t want the night to end just yet. "How about we find a burger place? Is that something you'll enjoy."

Lando's gratitude was evident in his smile as he nodded, and together, you set off to find a new spot to continue your evening, determined to make it memorable for all the right reasons.

You and Lando ended up sitting in his car, munching on takeout burgers and fries, the mood was light and laughter filled the air. Lando was in the middle of telling a funny story from his racing season, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he recounted the antics of how multiple of his fellow drivers tried to convince him to try seafood but failed.

You couldn’t help but laugh along, enjoying the animated way he described each moment. You playfully nudged Lando, a grin spreading across your face. “Well, it seems like all those F1 drivers couldn’t get you to try seafood, but I did, even if it was just a bite!”

Lando leaned back in his seat, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips. “You know, for you, I’d try anything… except seafood.”

As you heard Lando's words, a soft realization came to you that his remark held a hint of flirtation.

“Why don’t you like seafood anyways?” you couldn’t help but ask, especially since this town was full of loads of seafood options and now you had to think of other restaurants for him to try.

Lando shrugged, taking another bite of his burger before answering. “I guess it’s just not my thing. I’ve never been a fan of the taste or the texture.”

As you indulged in your burger, a smear of sauce found its way to the corner of your lips. Lando's eyes caught the small detail, and with a gentle smile, he pointed it out. "You've got a little something right there."

You chuckled, raising your hand to wipe it away, but before you could, Lando's fingers grazed over the corner of your lips, wiping away the sauce. His touch was gentle, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary as he leaned in close.

A subtle warmth spread through you at the intimacy of the gesture, and for a moment, time seemed to slow as you met his gaze. There was something unspoken between you, a silent acknowledgment of the growing connection that seemed to deepen with each passing moment.

His fingers lingered at the edge of your lips, and you could feel his breath, warm and inviting, mingling with yours. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you in that fleeting instant.

“Lando…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. The space between you grew smaller, your faces inching closer together.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back up to your eyes. The anticipation was electric, a charged moment that seemed to stretch on forever.

But then, he pulled back, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “I don’t want our first kiss to be like this,” he murmured, his voice soft but resolute. “You deserve a proper date first.”

A mix of disappointment and warmth washed over you. His thoughtfulness, his desire to make things right, only made your heart ache more with affection. Amidst the laughter and shared stories, his words hung between you, a promise of something more.

As quickly as the thought arose, the weight of your illness pressed down on you, reminding you of life's fragility and the uncertainty of tomorrow. Your thoughts lingered on wondering if you even had a future in general. To entertain the idea of a future with him would only cause your heart to ache, knowing that you might not live to see those dreams come true.

The thought of a future, a proper date, a real kiss—all of it seemed so painfully out of reach.

It was a bittersweet realization, knowing that even the simplest of dreams could be overshadowed by the reality of your condition. While he would return back to the fast paced world of racing, you would remain in this small town, wondering how many more dreams you would have to crush because fate decided to take away your life, inch by inch.

Awkwardness filled the car on your end, your emotions shifting to cold and stoic, like they were before you met him. The warm connection you had felt only moments ago was replaced by a wall you erected to protect your heart. Lando noticed the change, his cheerful demeanor faltering as the silence grew heavy between you.

Soon enough, you both finished your burgers, and Lando started the car to drive you home. The ride was quiet, the earlier laughter and easy conversation now replaced by a tension that neither of you acknowledged. When he pulled up to your house, he turned off the engine and looked at you, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?” he asked softly.

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No, it’s fine. Thanks for the evening, Lando.”

He watched as you climbed out of the car, a confused and worried expression on his face. As you walked to your door, you could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t look back. You shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as a tear threatened to slip down your cheek.

Lando sat in his car, staring at the closed door, wondering what he had done wrong and why the evening had ended on such a somber note. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had changed, but he had no idea what it was or how to fix it.

—

Over the next couple of days, you don’t acknowledge the thoughts that are bubbling up in your mind, instead choosing to tread carefully and immerse yourself in your daily routine. You’ve lived a lot more than you have over the past couple of months, and felt the joy that it brings. But now, you had to face the consequences causing you to distance yourself away from Lando before you got too attached to the happiness that came with being around him. Once you realized that you truly wanted to kiss him that night, everything changed. You had to take a preemptive measure, a self-imposed boundary designed to shield your heart from potential pain.

Your health deteriorated significantly. Your energy waned, and simple tasks like walking around the house left you breathless and exhausted. Fortunately, you have a doctor’s appointment scheduled, a simple routine checkup. However, it coincided with plans you made with Lando. Determined to distance yourself from him, you don’t tell him about the change of plans.

At the doctor’s appointment, you sit in the sterile examination room, the familiar scent of antiseptic mingling with nerves that coil in the pit of your stomach. These appointments, routine yet crucial, serve as a barometer of your ongoing battle against your illness.

As the doctor enters, his expression is professional yet compassionate, his eyes scanning through your medical history with a practiced ease. You recount the recent symptoms you’ve been experiencing, the fatigue that seems to seep into your bones, and the persistent ache that lingers despite treatment.

With a sympathetic nod, the doctor orders a series of tests, his urgency palpable as he reviews your file. The minutes stretch into an eternity as you wait for the results, each passing second filled with a silent plea for a glimmer of hope.

When the test results finally come back, the doctor’s demeanor shifts subtly, his tone measured yet grave. “I’m afraid the results are not as we had hoped,” he begins, his words heavy with significance.

Your heart sinks at the confirmation of your worst fears, the reality of your illness casting a shadow over your hopes for improvement. Despite your best efforts, it seems that the tide of your health is turning against you once again.

A sense of dread fills you as he explains that the illness has advanced more rapidly than expected. “We need to keep you overnight for observation,” he says gently. “Your vitals are unstable, and we need to adjust your treatment plan.”

You nod, too emotionally tired to object, allowing a nurse to lead you to the hospital room, one that you became too familiar with over the past few years. You would spend yet another night under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital, experience another round of tests and treatments, and take another uncertain step into the abyss of your illness.

You lie in the hospital bed, hooked up to various machines, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over you like a heavy blanket. The familiar beeps and hums of the medical equipment provide a disconcerting backdrop to your thoughts, each sound a reminder of the precariousness of your health.

As you drift in and out of consciousness, your mind wanders to Lando, the plans you had made together now nothing more than distant dreams. Guilt gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, knowing that he waits for you, unaware of the sudden turn your day has taken.

Just as the shadows of doubt threaten to overwhelm you, a soft knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. Startled, you turn to see Isaac's familiar face framed in the doorway, concern etched into his features.

"Hey," he says softly, crossing the room to sit beside you. "I got your text. Are you okay?"

You manage a weak smile, grateful for his presence amidst the sterile confines of the hospital room. "Yeah, just another setback," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Isaac reaches out to squeeze your hand gently, his touch a comforting anchor in the sea of uncertainty. "You’ll get through this," he says, his voice steady and reassuring.

As Isaac settles into the chair beside your hospital bed, he observes the flurry of activity around you—the nurses bustling about, the doctors conferring in hushed tones, tweaking the machines, their purpose still a mystery to him after all these visits.

When there's a lull in the commotion, Isaac hesitates before speaking, his voice soft with concern. "Hey, I wanted to let you know... Lando stopped by the cottage today."

“What’d he say?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"He asked about you today," Isaac begins, his tone gentle. "Said you had plans but you didn't show. He mentioned he hasn't seen you in a couple of days. Is everything okay between you two?"

You nod weakly, offering a small smile to reassure Isaac. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just... I don't know, I guess I realized that I've been enjoying his company a lot more than I should, given my condition."

He frowns, “what’s wrong with that? You’re both happy around each other, so why are you distancing yourself away from him?”

You scoff, “have you seen me?” You raise your arm that has an IV inserted, along with the other wires connected to you.

“It doesn’t matter,” Isaac insists gently. “He cares about you. You deserve happiness too, regardless of what’s going on with your health.”

You shake your head, a hint of frustration in your voice. “You don’t understand, Isaac. I don’t have a guarantee of how I’m spending the next week, let alone the rest of my life. I don’t want to hurt Lando by snatching away his happiness one day too. I’m just… preventing myself, and him, from getting too attached to each other.”

Isaac sighs, his expression softening with understanding. "You're not scared of getting too attached, are you? You already are, whether you admit it or not. But by staying away, you're only hurting yourself and him more."

You avert your gaze, feeling the weight of his words sinking in. "I know," you admit quietly. "But I don't know what else to do."

"He deserves to know if he's falling in love with you," Isaac says gently, his voice filled with concern. "And you deserve to have someone by your side, especially during the tough times."

You let out a heavy sigh, knowing he's right but still unsure of what to do next. "I guess I did find someone that fate hates more than me."

"So you agree, that he's in love with you?" Isaac probes, searching your eyes for confirmation.

"He's only in love because he barely knows me," you reply, your voice tinged with sadness.

“Maybe you should give him a chance to know you, the real you,” he responds.

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. Deep down, you know Isaac is right, but the fear of hurting Lando is overwhelming. Yet, the thought of pushing him away hurts just as much.

Before you can dwell on it further, a nurse enters the room, breaking the momentary silence. Isaac gives you a reassuring smile before standing up to give you some privacy. As he leaves, his words linger in the air, leaving you to contemplate the complexities of your situation.

The next morning, you’re discharged, feeling even more drained. The doctors have adjusted your medications, but the prognosis remains grim.

You left the hospital, walking in step beside Isaac for a moment until he headed towards the parking lot to bring the car around. As you were blinking in the bright morning sunlight, you nearly collided with Max, who was just outside chatting with someone on his phone.

“Hey there!” Max greets you with a wide grin, sliding his phone into his pocket. However, his expression quickly turns into a frown as he notices the hospital wristband adorning your wrist. “Wait, were you in there?” he asks, concern lacing his words. “Is everything okay?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, not wanting to worry him unnecessarily or dive into the complexities of your recent hospital stay. “Oh, it was just a routine checkup, some bloodwork, you know how that goes, nothing to worry about,” you assure him with a tight-lipped smile.

Max’s eyes narrow slightly, clearly not entirely convinced by your explanation, but he decides not to press further.

He glances over his shoulder, then back at you. “I was just at the café right down the street.”

You nod, “good choice, they make the best coffee in town.”

He smiled as his choice was approved by you. “Do you need a ride? I’m heading back to the villa.”

You shook your head, “no it’s alright, Isaac’s bringing the car around.”

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you around, only a few more days left before we leave this paradise,” he reminds you.

You offer him a grateful nod. “Yeah, time flies, doesn’t it?” you reply with a forced smile since you were hoping to return home soon. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

As Max nods in agreement and starts to walk away, you can’t shake the feeling that he suspects something isn’t quite right. But you push the thought aside, determined to focus on the present moment and put on a brave face as you step away from the hospital and back into the world outside.

As Isaac parks in the driveway, you notice Lando pacing back and forth by the front door, his brows furrowed in concern. The sight of him fills you with a tumult of conflicting emotions. Isaac’s words echo in your mind, urging you to be honest with Lando, to tell him how much you care about him, to share the burden of your illness. But fear gnaws at your insides, whispering that revealing the truth will only drive him away.

His expression changes from relief to frustration as he sees you approaching.

“Where were you?” he demanded, his voice tinged with worry. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

As you and Lando stand in front of each other, locked in a tense silence, Isaac takes a step back, sensing the need for privacy between you two. With a subtle nod, he heads inside the cottage, leaving you and Lando alone on the doorstep.

The weight of unspoken words hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you both with its palpable intensity. You struggle to find the right words to break the silence, to bridge the growing chasm between you, but fear and uncertainty grip you like a vice, paralyzing your tongue.

Lando shifts uncomfortably, his gaze flickering between you as if searching for answers in the depths of your eyes. His expression is a mix of hurt and confusion, mirroring the tumultuous storm raging within your own heart.

You want to tell Lando the truth, to let him in, but the thought of exposing your vulnerabilities terrifies you. You can’t bear the idea of him seeing you as fragile, of pitying you. So, holding your head up high, you decide to make him hate you before he realizes that he loves you.

You force a nonchalant shrug, trying to play it off. “I had some errands to run, and I forgot we had plans.”

“Forgot?” he repeats, incredulous. “We made those plans a while ago. Forget that, I haven’t seen you for days. What’s really going on?”

Annoyed, and wanting to distance yourself from him before your feelings grow even stronger, you let a hint of irritation seep into your voice. “I don’t owe you an explanation for everything I do, Lando. It’s not a big deal.”

He’s taken aback by your rudeness, his face falling slightly. “Not a big deal? I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“Well, you don’t need to be,” you say curtly, avoiding his eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

An awkward silence falls between you two, the tension palpable. Lando’s expression shifts from hurt to confusion. He takes a step back, clearly stung by your words.

“Fine,” he says quietly, his voice pained. “If that’s how you want it.”

You nod, turning away from him and heading inside, each step feeling heavier than the last. Lando stands outside for a moment longer, staring at the closed door. He can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to your abrupt change in behavior, but he respects your wish for distance. With a heavy heart, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the echo of the door closing between you

You lean against the door, quickly sliding down and sitting on the floor as you cover your face with your hands, fighting back tears.

Pushing him away is probably the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but you convince yourself it’s for the best.

Isaac spots you sitting on the floor, and quickly rushes towards you. Moving your hands away from your face, he notices the tears staining your cheeks and has an idea of how the conversation went with Lando.

"You're still as stubborn as ever, aren't you?" he remarked rhetorically, but then he enveloped you in his arms, holding you close as you trembled with sobs.

You pulled back slightly, sniffling as you tried to compose yourself. "I can't tell him," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of emotions.

Meanwhile, Lando trudged back to the villa, his mind heavy with thoughts and his heart weighed down by the encounter with you. When he arrived, Max was idly sitting around.

“Hey, mate,” Max greeted but his expression turned serious as he observed Lando’s demeanour. “You okay?”

Lando shrugged, sitting next to Max as he tried to brush off the weight of his emotions. “I saw her today.”

He nodded, “how’d it go?”

Lando frowned, furrowing his brows. “I don’t know, Max. That’s the thing. It’s like I saw a completely different person today. Someone I thought I knew, but now… she’s like a stranger.”

Max furrowed his brow, concerned. “What do you mean?”

Lando shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like she was pushing me away, Max. Acting cold and distant, like she didn’t want anything to do with me.”

Max nodded in understanding. “Well, mate, maybe she’s just having a rough day. I mean, she was at the hospital earlier.”

His words caught Lando off guard. He blinked in surprise, his brows furrowing as he processed the information. “Wait, she was at the hospital?” he asked, a note of concern creeping into his voice.

Max nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I saw her leaving earlier today. Said it wasn’t serious, just a routine check up but she looked very tired, like she hadn’t slept properly in days.”

Lando’s concern deepened as he absorbed Max’s words. “Why didn’t she tell me?” he murmured, a mix of worry and frustration evident in his voice.

Max placed a comforting hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Maybe she just needs some space, mate. It’s not easy opening up about personal stuff, especially to someone you care about a lot.”

“You think she cares about me?” Lando asked, his tone almost a mumbling mess.

Max scoffed, “see I knew you were an idiot but not to this extent that you don’t even see the obvious. Of course she cares about you, mate!”

“Well I know that, it’s just I don’t wanna read into something that’s not there, you know?”

Max squeezed Lando’s shoulder reassuringly. “Trust me, mate, it’s there. Sometimes, we just need a little nudge to see what’s right in front of us.”

Lando nodded slowly, his mind still swirling with doubts and questions. “I guess you’re right,” he conceded, a faint glimmer of hope starting to flicker within him.

Max grinned, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Just give her some time, and I’m sure things will sort themselves out.”

The cottage exudes a somber atmosphere, suffused with memories of those initial days when you sought refuge from your parents' house, just across town. After your diagnosis, living with your parents became unbearable, evoking memories of your tumultuous teenage years, always feeling scolded and misunderstood. With persuasion and determination, you relocated to the cottage, that has always acted as a second childhood home, with your brother, longing for respite from the tumult of your parents' home. Eventually, your parents themselves moved to the next town over, seeking their own fresh start, leaving you and your brother to navigate the challenges of your illness in your quiet abode.

Now, as you sit in the same kitchen where you once grappled with the harsh reality of your illness, the mood is eerily similar. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you as the silence in the cottage seems to press down, a stark contrast to the vibrant conversations and laughter that once echoed within these walls during your childhood summers. Even more palpably, you recall the warmth of recent memories, the shared laughter with Lando when you had twisted your ankle, filling the space with a joy that now feels distant and elusive. The air is thick with unspoken words, the tension palpable as if one wrong move could shatter the fragile peace you carefully built.

Isaac sits across from you, his presence comforting amidst the somber atmosphere. He watches you closely, his gaze filled with concern and understanding.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking the silence that hangs heavy between you.

You force a smile, but it feels hollow on your lips. “Just tired,” you reply, the words barely audible over the quiet hum of the refrigerator.

While Isaac may be aware of some of the pain you feel, he doesn’t know the full extent of what you’re enduring. You want to shield him from the worst, hiding just how much it hurts. The pain has been relentless, gnawing at you day and night, with only a brief sense of comfort for a few hours after taking your medication. Every movement feels like a struggle, every breath a reminder of the fragility of your condition.

Isaac studies your face, his eyes narrowing with concern. “You should call Mom and Dad,” he says softly, breaking the silence. “They need to know what’s going on. Your health is getting worse.”

You shake your head, the thought of burdening your parents with more bad news twisting your stomach into knots. “They’ve been hoping I’m getting better.”

Isaac sighs, reaching across the table to take your hand. “They’re gonna find out soon enough and they’ll want to be here for you, to support you. It’s better they hear it from you than from anyone else.”

You look down at your hands, Isaac’s warmth a stark contrast to the cold dread settling in your bones. “I just… I don’t want to shatter their hope again.”

Isaac squeezes your hand gently. “They love you. They’re not going to be disappointed in you. They’ll be worried, sure, but they need to know. You need all the support you can get.”

You nod slowly, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “Okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I’ll call them.”

Isaac gives you a reassuring smile, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Good. We’ll get through this together. You’re not alone.”

You manage a hint of a smile, looking at Isaac. “You know,” you say softly, “you’re such a good older brother especially for someone who’s younger than me.”

Isaac chuckles, a warm, comforting sound in the quiet room. “Age is just a number,” he says, squeezing your hand gently. “Besides, someone has to keep you in line.”

“Keep me in line? I think we’ve switched roles, remember how I used to keep you out of trouble?” You remark.

You can feel the tension ease in the room as Isaac laughs at the memory before standing up to prepare dinner, allowing you to pick up your phone.

The thought of hearing your parents’ voices fills you with a mixture of fear and relief. You know Isaac is right, but the conversation ahead feels like another mountain to climb. Taking a deep breath, you dial the familiar number, bracing yourself for what’s to come. The phone rings, and with each passing moment, you feel the weight of the upcoming conversation pressing down on you.

Finally, your mother answers, her voice warm and familiar. “Hello, sweetie. It’s been a while since you called. How are you?”

You hesitate for a moment, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hi, Mom. I… I need to talk to you about something.”

There’s a pause, and you can hear the concern in her voice. “What is it, honey? Is everything alright?”

Before you can respond, she quickly switches to a video call. Her face appears on the screen, eyes wide with worry. “Tell me what’s going on,” she says, her voice trembling slightly.

Seeing her face makes it harder to hold back your emotions. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “Mom, I’ve been trying to stay strong and not worry you and Dad, but… my health has been getting worse.”

Her expression shifts from concern to fear and then to a hint of anger masking hurt. “Worse? How worse, dear? Are you not taking care of yourself properly?”

You wince at her words, knowing they come from a place of worry. “I stayed a night at the hospital,” you continue. “They said if it doesn’t get better with the new medication, I’ll have to go back. The pain has been relentless. I can barely move without feeling it, and the medication only helps for a few hours.”

Your mother’s face pales, her eyes filling with tears. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? We’ve been hoping you were getting better.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you admit, your voice cracking. “I wanted to protect you from the worst of it.”

Your mother shakes her head, wiping away a tear. “We’re your parents. We want to be there for you, no matter what. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“I know,” you say, your own tears starting to fall. “It’s just so hard. Every day feels like a struggle, and I didn’t want to burden you.”

Isaac rounds the kitchen table and speaks up, his voice steady and supportive. “We’re all in this together, Mom. We need your support now more than ever.”

Your mother nods, her expression determined, though the hurt still lingers in her eyes. “We’ll be there for you, sweetheart. Every step of the way.”

Just then, she turns her head and calls out, “Honey, come here. It’s important.”

A moment later, your father appears on the screen, his face etched with concern. “What’s going on?”

Your mother explains quickly, her voice trembling. “She’s not doing well. She had to stay overnight at the hospital, and she might have to go back soon. We need to be there for her.”

Your father’s expression hardens with resolve. “We’ll come over soon. Don’t worry, just be careful.”

Hearing his firm, supportive words, you feel a sense of relief and hope. “I will, thank you, Dad. I love you both.”

“We love you too,” he replies, his voice full of emotion. “We’re here for you, no matter what.”

After exchanging goodbyes and promising to see each other soon, you hang up the phone, feeling a slight sense of relief wash over you. Though it's only temporary, the weight on your shoulders lifts ever so slightly.

As Isaac reveals dinner, the aroma of his culinary creation fills the air, tempting your senses with its savory goodness. But as you take a closer look at your own plate, disappointment washes over you. The food in front of you is bland and uninspiring, reminiscent of the tasteless hospital meals you’ve grown accustomed to.

You poke at your food with little enthusiasm, knowing that the increased dosage of medication has left your taste buds dulled and unresponsive. “I can’t eat this,” you mutter, pushing the plate away with a sigh.

Isaac looks up from his own meal, concern creasing his eyebrow. “Come on, you need to eat something,” he urges, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s important for your recovery.”

You shake your head, frustration bubbling up inside you. “But it tastes like nothing,” you protest, the monotony of the hospital diet weighing heavily on your spirit.

Isaac nods sympathetically, understanding your struggle. “I know it’s tough,” he says softly. “But remember what the doctor said about avoiding spice. It’s all part of the plan to help you get better.”

Reluctantly, you take a small bite, forcing yourself to chew and swallow despite the lack of flavor. The effort feels futile, but you know Isaac is right. You need to keep up your strength, even if it means enduring tasteless meals for the time being.

As you pick at your food, Isaac’s voice breaks through your thoughts, his tone lighthearted but determined. “Hey, once you’re feeling better, we’ll have a hot chicken wing contest,” he suggests, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Just like old times. And I promise, I’ll make them so spicy, you won’t be able to taste anything for a week.”

Despite yourself, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. The idea of a hot chicken wing contest brings back memories of happier times, when your biggest worry was who would win the next round.

“Deal,” you agree, the idea of better days ahead spurring you on. But deep down, you know the truth that you can’t bring yourself to voice aloud in front of him again. You’re not getting better, no matter how much you wish you could.

The next day, you wake up with a sense of urgency gnawing at your insides, an inexplicable feeling pulling you towards the lighthouse. It’s as if an invisible force is guiding you, compelling you to make this journey one last time.

As you slip out of bed and prepare to leave the house, a mixture of determination and trepidation fills your heart. You know deep down that this might be the last opportunity you have to climb those stairs, to feel the wind on your face as you stand at the top and gaze out at the vast expanse of the ocean.

Isaac notices your movements and steps forward, concern etched into his features.

“Hey, where are you off to?” he asks, his voice gentle yet probing.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should share your intentions. But then, you meet his gaze and find solace in his familiar eyes.

“I’m going to the lighthouse,” you reply, your voice steady despite the weight of your words. “I just… need some time alone.”

Isaac’s expression softens, understanding dawning in his eyes. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder gently, offering silent support.

“Take all the time you need,” he says softly. “And if you need anything, call me.”

With a grateful nod, you offer him a small smile before turning to leave, the weight of your decision heavy on your heart.

You make your way up the stairs to the lighthouse, each step feeling heavier than the last. The climb feels like an uphill battle, and you find yourself pausing every few steps to catch your breath.

Your chest heaves with the effort, and a wave of dizziness washes over you as you reach the halfway point. You lean against the railing, willing yourself to continue despite the fatigue that threatens to overwhelm you.

With each step, the distance between you and the top of the lighthouse seems to stretch on forever. Your muscles ache with exertion, and your breath comes in ragged gasps.

But you refuse to give up. You grit your teeth and push through the pain, focusing all your energy on reaching the summit. With each step, you draw closer to your goal, fueled by the determination to see the view from the top one last time.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you reach the top of the lighthouse, gasping for air, only to find Lando already there, leaning against the railing and gazing out at the horizon. He turns as he hears your footsteps and ragged breaths, surprise flickering across his face.

He takes a step back, clearly intending to give you some space. “I’ll go down,” he mutters awkwardly, gesturing towards the stairs. “This place is your spot.”

But before he can move away, you reach out and grab his hand, stopping him in his tracks. “No,” you say firmly, your voice stronger than you feel. “Stay.”

He hesitates for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but then he nods and settles back against the railing, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as you lean against the railing beside him. Despite the exhaustion that weighs heavily on you, being close to him brings a sense of comfort that you can’t quite explain.

“Thanks,” you murmur, grateful for his presence beside you.

He offers you a small, tentative smile in return, his hand tightening around yours in a silent gesture of support.

Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you turn to Lando, feeling the weight of the unspoken tension between you two like a heavy blanket.

"Listen, I owe you an apology," you begin, your voice soft but sincere. "I've been acting... differently lately, and I want you to know that it's not because of anything you did. That day, I was at the hospital for a routine checkup, and it just tired me out more than I expected. I’m sorry about ditching our plans."

You technically didn’t lie, but also didn’t tell him the whole truth either. You pause, searching his face for any sign of understanding or acceptance. His expression softens, and you feel a flicker of relief.

"I shouldn't have been so rude to you," you continue, your tone earnest. "I appreciate your patience, and I'm sorry if I made you feel unwelcome."

Lando nods, his eyes reflecting empathy. "It's okay," he says gently, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "I understand. And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by showing up here."

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "No, you don't need to apologize. I'm glad you're here."

With that, the tension between you starts to dissolve, replaced by a sense of mutual understanding and acceptance as you stand side by side, watching the waves crash against the shore below.

Taking a moment to admire the breathtaking view from the top of the lighthouse, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. But as the adrenaline of the climb begins to wear off, your legs start to tremble beneath you, threatening to give out at any moment.

Recognizing the warning signs of exhaustion, you carefully lower yourself to the ground, your muscles protesting with each movement. Sitting down with a heavy sigh of relief, you lean back against the cool stone wall of the lighthouse, grateful for the brief respite from the physical strain.

Lando joined you as well, sitting side by side on the floor of the lighthouse. You continue to hold onto his hand, your fingers tracing patterns absentmindedly. However, despite your attempt to clear the air, he still seems hesitant, his brows furrowed with confusion.

Finally, unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Lando breaks the silence. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he begins, his voice tentative.

You turn to him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. “Of course,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the weight of the conversation.

He hesitates for a moment before plunging ahead. “Did something happen the night we went for burgers?” he asks, his words carefully measured. “I mean, you seemed off after… and I’ve been wondering if I did something wrong.”

Realization dawns on you that he’s talking about the almost kiss. The memory of that night floods back, the charged moment in his car when he had pulled back. You had admired his restraint, his desire to do things right, but it also made your heart ache with longing.

Your heart sinks at his words, the guilt weighing heavy on your chest. “No, Lando,” you assure him, squeezing his hand gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You glance at him, seeing the earnest concern in his eyes. How you wish you had the courage to pull him in by his collar and kiss him then, to let him know just how much he meant to you despite everything.

But he doesn’t seem convinced, his gaze searching yours for any sign of dishonesty. “Don’t lie,” he says softly, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

You hesitate, grappling with the weight of your own emotions and the truth you’re desperate to conceal. Part of you wants to tell him how much his presence means to you, how his laughter lights up even the darkest corners of your world. But fear holds you back, whispering cruel reminders of the inevitability of heartbreak both of you will experience.

Instead of answering his question, you take a deep breath and change the subject. “So, when are you leaving?” you ask, trying to divert his attention away from your own turmoil.

He furrows his brow, clearly surprised by the sudden shift in conversation but decides not to push for an answer. “Tomorrow,” he replies, a hint of sadness in his voice.

You offer him a small smile, “well, I hope you had a good time despite my lackluster tour guide skills,” you quip, attempting to lighten the mood.

He chuckles softly, the sound warm and genuine. “Meeting you was my favorite part,” he admits, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes. “Spending time with you, even if it wasn’t every day, made this trip unforgettable.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his admission, the warmth of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. There’s a playful glint in his eyes that ignites a natural spark of flirtation between you.

In the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, you find yourself caught up in the moment with Lando, the days missed due to your own fear melting away with each shared smile and genuine laugh. Despite the lingering weight of your illness and the uncertainty that shadows your future, you're finally able to let go of the constant worry and embrace the present.

You realize that constantly dwelling on the unknown, on whether you'll have more time together or not, only serves to rob you of the joy of the moment. So instead, you allow yourself to be fully present with Lando, savoring each precious second together.

Yet, beneath the surface of your newfound acceptance, there still lingers a trace of fear. You know that distancing yourself from Lando won't protect either of you from the inevitable pain that lies ahead. His genuine smile, the way his eyes light up when he's with you, speaks volumes, and you can't deny the pull you feel toward him.

Despite the uncertainty of what the future holds, you're willing to take the risk, to open your heart to the possibility of love, even if it means facing the inevitable heartache that may follow. Because in the end, the fleeting moments of happiness you share with Lando are worth every ounce of pain.

Lando straightens up, his movements fluid and confident, as he leans in closer, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "Hey, do you mind giving me your number and surname?" he asks casually, but there's a hint of mischief in his tone.

You raise an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "What are you going to do with that information?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued.

His smile widens, a charming grin that could melt anyone's heart. "Well, first so we can still stay in touch even if I’m on the other side of the world, and second so I can send you a pass for one of my races," he replies smoothly, his voice laced with playful charm.

You can't help but chuckle at his response, shaking your head in amusement. "And why would I come to your race?" you tease, enjoying the banter between you.

Lando's gaze softens, a warmth in his eyes that catches you off guard. "I think you might be my lucky charm," he admits, his tone sincere.

You pause, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with uncertainty. "You believe in lucky charms?" you ask, a hint of skepticism in your voice.

He nods, his smile unwavering. "I didn't," he confesses, "but now it seems like a good time to start believing. Why are you asking so many questions?" he adds playfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You can't help but smile at his lighthearted demeanor, appreciating the way he effortlessly lightens the mood. "You don't want me as a lucky charm," you reply, a touch of self-doubt creeping into your voice.

Lando's expression softens, his gaze filled with genuine warmth. "Why not?" he counters, his tone gentle yet determined.

"It won't last long," you murmur, a pang of sadness tugging at your heart as you glance away.

He reaches out, gently tilting your chin to meet his gaze. "It'll last as long as you're by my side," he insists, his voice sincere and unwavering. "That is up to you, don't you think so?"

His words catch you off guard, stirring something deep within you. "Now who's asking lots of questions?" you tease, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Still you," he replies with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling with affection.

You shake your head, feeling a surge of warmth at his playful banter. "You're something else, Lando."

"So are you," he replies, his smile soft and genuine. "In the best way possible."

You oblige Lando’s request, typing your phone number into his phone and saving your full name in his contacts. It’s a small gesture, but one that feels significant in the moment, despite the fact that you know you’ll never take him up on the offer for a pass to his race.

As the sun casts its golden glow across the rugged coastline, you and Lando sit side by side, taking in the breathtaking view from the top of the lighthouse. The air is filled with the sounds of seagulls circling overhead and the distant rumble of waves crashing against the shore below.

Lando’s arm around your shoulders feels like a lifeline, grounding you in the present moment amidst the tumult of your thoughts and emotions. You find solace in his presence, a sense of calm washing over you as you soak in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

The playful banter and teasing remarks give way to a comfortable silence, allowing you both to simply be in each other’s company without the need for words. It’s a moment of quiet intimacy, where the weight of the world fades away and all that matters is the connection between you and Lando.

You lean into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing and the reassuring strength of his arm around you. In this moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of Lando’s presence, you feel a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that whatever the future may hold, you’re grateful for this moment of shared serenity.

As you both prepare to descend the stairs, Lando pauses, noticing your reluctance to leave the view behind. "Shouldn't I be the one lingering back to admire the horizon? After all, I'm the one leaving, not you," he quips with a playful smirk.

You chuckle at his remark, shaking your head in amusement. "Come on, Lando, don't act like you're the only one who appreciates a good view," you tease back, nudging him lightly.

He grins, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before turning back to the scenery. "Fair point," he concedes, his tone light and playful. “I’ll wait for you downstairs then.”

You nod, watching him make his way down the stairs. The gentle breeze ruffles your hair, and you take a deep breath, committing the scene to memory.

With a sense of purpose, you scan the area, searching for the perfect spot to leave your message. Your eyes alight on a small alcove tucked away in a corner, sheltered from the wind and hidden from plain sight. It’s a secluded nook, easily overlooked by passersby, but will be found if it’s searched for.

Slipping something into the alcove, you ensure it’s nestled securely among the shadows, a subtle gesture meant for only the most observant of visitors. With a satisfied nod, you turn to follow Lando down the stairs.

—

The following day is a whirlwind of activity as your parents arrive at the cottage. They come bearing an array of supplies and comforts, ready to pamper you with their love and attention.

"Sweetheart, we brought some of your favorite homemade meals," your mom chirps, bustling into the kitchen with bags of groceries in tow.

Your dad follows closely behind, a stack of freshly laundered blankets in his arms. "And I made sure to pack extra blankets in case you get chilly," he adds with a warm smile.

Isaac turns to your mother, his expression gentle yet concerned. “Just a heads up, she can’t have any spicy food because of the doctor’s orders,” he explains, hoping to avoid any culinary mishaps.

“Isaac, don’t ruin it,” you mutter, holding the tupperware filled with your favourite dishes.

Your dad, overhearing the conversation, interjects with a reassuring pat on Isaac’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. Your mother has spent many hours in the kitchen cooking up a storm for our girl here,” he says with a fond smile. “A little taste of home can work wonders for the soul.”

You can't help but smile at their fussing, feeling a mixture of gratitude and guilt at their doting gestures. "How long are you planning to stay?" you inquire, trying to gauge the extent of their visit.

"Until you're better, of course," your mom replies without hesitation, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Throughout the day, your parents dote on you, attending to your every need with unwavering devotion. They fluff pillows, brew tea, and fuss over you as if you were a child again, and despite the sadness that tugs at your heart, you find solace in their presence.

As evening falls and the cottage is filled with the aroma of home-cooked meals, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet nostalgia. These moments of familial closeness are precious, and you savor each one, knowing deep down that they may be fleeting.

Amidst the cozy atmosphere that had filled your cottage, a sudden realization dawns on you. Today is the day Lando is leaving, and with the flurry of activity happening throughout the day, you had almost forgotten.

Abandoning your dinner mid-bite, you quickly put on a pair of shoes, your heart pounding with urgency. As you rush towards the door, your parents pause in their fussing, exchanging puzzled glances as they notice your abrupt departure.

“Where are you going?” your mom asks, concern etched in her voice.

You pause in the doorway, a sense of determination driving you forward. “I have to see Lando,” you reply, your words rushed and breathless.

As you disappear out the door, your parents turn to your brother, confusion evident in their expressions. “Who’s Lando?” your dad asks, his brow furrowed in bewilderment.

Isaac sighs, shaking his head as he meets their gaze. “He’s the one she’s in love with,” he explains softly, a hint of sadness in his voice. “But I’m not sure if she’s ready to accept it yet.”

As you reach the villa, your breath comes in ragged gasps, each inhale becoming a struggle. Pain pulses through your chest with every heartbeat, but you refuse to let it slow you down. Adrenaline surges through your veins, driving you forward with an urgency born of raw emotion.

Your eyes scan the scene before you, taking in the sight of Max hurriedly loading the car with his and Lando’s bags. The trunk is nearly full, a testament to the impending departure that looms over you like a storm cloud. You feel a knot form in your stomach, a sense of panic seizing hold of you as you realize that time is slipping away.

Then, amidst the chaos, you spot Lando emerging from the villa, his expression one of surprise and concern as he catches sight of you. His brow furrows in confusion, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.

Without hesitation, you push yourself forward, your feet carrying you towards him with a desperate urgency. With trembling hands, you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his arm before wrapping around him in a tight embrace. His warmth envelops you, a comforting anchor amidst the storm raging within you. For a fleeting moment, the pain in your chest eases, replaced by a sense of peace that only he can provide.

For a long moment, you simply hold onto each other, the world around you fading into insignificance as you find solace in each other’s arms. The weight of unspoken words hangs heavy between you, the truth lingering on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be unleashed.

As you finally pull away, a silent understanding passes between you, a shared acknowledgment of the depth of your connection. Lando’s gaze searches yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection, silently asking if you’re okay.

You manage a faint smile, though it feels fragile on your lips. “I just had to see you before you left,” you confess softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His expression softens, a warmth in his eyes that speaks volumes. “I’m glad you came,” he replies, his voice gentle and reassuring.

You linger for a moment longer, drinking in the sight of him, committing every detail to memory. Then, with a heavy heart, you reluctantly release him, knowing that time is running short.

As Lando returns to help Max with the bags, you watch him go, a sense of longing tugging at your heart.

Once everything was packed up, Lando and Max walked towards you, their footsteps echoing on the gravel driveway. Max reaches you first, his face lit with a warm smile. Without hesitation, he pulls you into a brief, friendly hug.

“Thanks for the good company,” Max says, his voice full of genuine gratitude. “And for keeping Lando’s mood up throughout this trip. You’ve been a real lifesaver.” He chuckles, the sound infectious, and you can’t help but laugh along with him.

“Anytime,” you reply, your smile widening. “It’s been fun having you both around.”

Max steps back, giving Lando space to step forward. Lando’s eyes meet yours, and there’s a depth of emotion there that makes your heart skip a beat. He takes your hands in his, holding them gently as if afraid you might disappear.

“This isn’t goodbye,” Lando says softly, his tone filled with a mixture of hope and determination. “Just a ‘see you later,’ alright?”

You nod, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “See you later,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

Lando pulls you into a tight embrace this time, his arms wrapping around you protectively. You breathe in his familiar scent, the comfort of his presence grounding you in the moment.

He pulls back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he searches your face. “Don’t think I forgot about giving you a pass,” he says with a small, teasing smile. “I’ll be waiting for you at the race.”

You smile through the tears that threaten to spill over. “We’ll see.”

Max claps Lando on the back, breaking the emotional moment. “Come on, mate, we’ve got a plane to catch.”

With one last look, Lando releases you and heads towards the car. You watch them drive away, a mix of sadness and hope swirling within you. The ache in your chest grows, but you try to push it aside, focusing on ways to fulfill the promise of seeing him again.

As you start walking back home, the exertion from earlier catches up to you. Your breath becomes labored, each step feeling heavier than the last. A sharp pain radiates through your chest, and you find yourself struggling to stay upright. Determined to make it back to the cottage, you push on, but every movement is a reminder of your body’s limitations.

By the time you reach the door, you’re barely holding on. You collapse onto the porch steps, gasping for breath, the world around you blurring as you fight to stay conscious. Moments later, the door swings open, and Isaac is there, his face pale with worry.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, rushing to your side. His voice sounds distant, echoing in your ears.

You try to speak, but the words get caught in your throat. Instead, you manage a weak nod, though it’s clear you’re far from okay.

Isaac doesn’t waste another second. He scoops you up in his arms, carrying you inside. “Mom! Dad!” he calls out, his voice frantic. “Something’s wrong. We need to get her to the hospital.”

Your parents appear almost instantly, their faces a mixture of fear and determination. Your dad grabs the car keys while your mom hurries to gather your things, her hands shaking.

In the car, you drift in and out of consciousness, the pain and exhaustion overwhelming you. Your mom holds your hand tightly, whispering soothing words that barely register. Isaac drives with a grim focus, the worry in his eyes reflected in the rearview mirror.

At the hospital, the staff quickly takes over, whisking you away on a stretcher. Your family is left in the waiting room, their anxious faces a blur as you’re rushed through the halls.

As the doctors and nurses work to stabilize you, you catch fleeting thoughts of Lando, Max, and the brief, bright moments you shared. The reality of your condition settles in, and you realize just how fragile your hope had been.

The doctors stabilize you for now, but you wake to the sound of your mother's soft cries in the room. Her face is buried in your father's shoulder, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Your father is holding her close, his eyes red and puffy, a grim expression etched on his face. Isaac stands nearby, his jaw clenched, trying to hold himself together.

You blink, the fluorescent lights above casting a harsh glow on the stark white walls. A doctor stands at the foot of your bed, looking somber. You catch bits and pieces of his words, the clinical detachment in his voice contrasting sharply with the raw emotion in the room.

"...best if she doesn’t return home... too weak... last days in the hospital..."

The full weight of the words crashes over you, and a sense of helplessness fills your heart. You try to speak, but your throat is dry, and the words come out as a rasp. "Mom? Dad?"

Your mother's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, and she rushes to your side, taking your hand in hers. "Oh, sweetheart," she whispers, tears streaming down her face. "We're here. We're right here."

Your father moves closer, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We won't leave your side," he promises, his voice steady despite the tears in his eyes.

Isaac approaches the bed, his usual bravado stripped away. "Hey," he says softly, trying to muster a smile. "We’re all here for you."

You swallow hard, trying to process the reality of the situation. "How long?" you manage to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

The doctor steps forward, his expression compassionate. "It’s hard to say for certain," he admits gently. "But we’ll do everything we can to keep you comfortable."

You nod, a mixture of fear and resignation settling over you. Your mother's sobs have quieted, but the sorrow in her eyes is unmistakable. "I’m so sorry," you whisper, feeling a pang of guilt for putting them through this.

"No, don’t apologize," your father says firmly, squeezing your shoulder. "This isn’t your fault. We’re just grateful to be here with you."

Your family’s presence brings a small measure of comfort, but the reality of your condition is a heavy burden. You look around at their faces, trying to memorize every detail, every expression. The room feels both claustrophobic and infinite, the moments stretching out like a fragile thread.

As the night wears on, you find solace in their presence. Your mother hums softly, stroking your hair, while your father reads to you from a book you loved as a child. Isaac sits by the window, watching the night sky, his expression pensive.

You know that the days ahead will be difficult, but for now, you take comfort in the love that surrounds you. The hospital room, with its sterile walls and beeping machines, becomes a sanctuary of sorts, a place where you can hold on to the precious moments with your family, no matter how fleeting they may be.

—

The sterile scent of the hospital room is overwhelming, the beeping of the machines a constant reminder of the deteriorating state of your health. The wires and tubes attached to your body are a constant presence, their weight both physical and symbolic. The medication dulls the pain, but it also leaves you in a fog, half-aware of the world around you.

Isaac sits by your bedside, his expression a mix of forced cheerfulness and hidden sorrow. He tries to make you laugh, telling stories and cracking jokes, but there’s an underlying tension in his voice.

You take a shaky breath and glance at Isaac. “So, this is it, huh?” you say with a dry laugh, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the sadness in your voice.

He looks at you, the forced cheerfulness slipping from his face. “Still laughing?” he asks, his voice quivering.

“If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t want that to be the last expression you remember me by.”

Isaac’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Remember when you said that you weren’t able to be a proper older sister to me ever since you got diagnosed?” he asks softly. “That’s wrong. You still were because you powered through every moment of pain on your own. Even now, you’re as selfless as ever.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you swallow hard. “I got a taste of how it feels to be selfish recently,” you confess, your voice trembling. “To see what you want right there in front of you, waiting for you to take it, but I almost got too attached to it that fate had to rip it away from me again.”

“Are you talking about Lando?” Isaac asks gently, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, the memories of your brief time with Lando flooding back, a bittersweet ache in your chest. “Life is so cruel, so fickle,” you say, your voice barely audible. “When I finally accepted my fate, it flipped and gave me a chance to be happy, to fall in love, to live like I’ve never done before. When I experienced it all, it just made me greedy. I wanted to keep living like that. But I won’t be able to because in a moment, it’s taken away again.”

Isaac squeezes your hand, his grip warm and reassuring. “You deserved every moment of happiness,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “And you brought happiness to those around you, too. Remember that.”

The days pass in a blur of medical checks, whispered conversations, and the quiet hum of machines. Your parents come and go, their faces lined with worry but always offering words of comfort and love.

Then comes Sunday, one that’s special for you because it’s also race day.

The hospital room is dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of the television screen mounted on the wall. The muted hum of machines and the occasional beep provide a constant backdrop to your labored breathing. Your family surrounds you, their presence a source of comfort even as your strength wanes. The room is filled with an unspoken tension, a fragile hope that somehow, you might find the strength to hold on a little longer.

Earlier in the day, you had pleaded with the nurses to let you watch the race. “Please,” you whispered, your voice weak but determined. “I just want to see him race one last time.”

The nurses had exchanged glances, their expressions softening. “Alright,” one of them had said gently. “We’ll make sure you can watch it.”

Now, the vibrant colors of the Formula 1 race contrast sharply with the sterile white of the hospital room. Lando’s car, resplendent in its sleek orange design, zips around the track with an elegance and speed that seems almost otherworldly. The commentator’s voice crackles with excitement as they describe the race in vivid detail.

“And Lando Norris takes the lead! He’s showing incredible skill out there today, really pushing the limits of his car and his own abilities. The crowd is going wild!”

You try to focus on the race, on the laps ticking by, the thrill of each turn, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult. Your vision blurs, the lines between the real and the surreal beginning to merge. Every breath is a struggle, each one more labored than the last.

Your mother sits by your side, her hand gently stroking your hair, her eyes red-rimmed but determined to stay strong. Your father stands at the foot of the bed, his face etched with lines of worry and sorrow. Isaac holds your hand, his grip firm and reassuring, his eyes never leaving your face.

You gather your remaining strength, turning your head slightly to look at Isaac. “Can you give him a message for me?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper, each word a struggle.

Isaac leans closer, his face etched with concern and determination. “What do you want to say?” he asks gently, his eyes locked onto yours, ready to carry your words to Lando.

You pause, the weight of the moment settling over you. With great effort, you manage to form the words that have been in your heart. “Tell him… tell him that he made me believe in living life again. That he gave me something beautiful in my last days. And… and that I’ll always be cheering for him, even if I’m not there.”

Isaac’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he nods, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. “I will. I promise.”

On the television, Lando navigates the sharp turns of the track with precision and grace. The roar of the engines and the thrill of the race create a stark contrast to the quiet, somber atmosphere of your room. The commentator’s voice booms with excitement.

“Norris is extending his lead! This could be his race if he keeps up this pace. The team must be thrilled with his performance!”

On the Formula 1 track, the atmosphere is electric. Lando sits in his car, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He can feel every vibration of the engine, every nuance of the track. The pit crew buzzes with activity, their movements synchronized and efficient. Over the radio, his engineer’s voice provides updates and encouragement.

“You’re doing great, Lando. Keep this up and the win is yours.”

Lando nods inside his helmet, his focus razor-sharp. The crowd’s cheers blend into a singular wave of energy that propels him forward. He pushes the car to its limits, every fiber of his being dedicated to the race.

Back in the hospital, your breathing becomes more labored, and your family’s concern deepens. Your mother’s voice breaks as she hums softly, a lullaby from your childhood. Isaac squeezes your hand, his own tears finally breaking free.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words a final, heartfelt goodbye.

“We love you too,” Isaac responds, his voice choked with emotion. “More than anything.”

On the track, Lando crosses the finish line, the checkered flag waving triumphantly. The crowd erupts into a frenzy of cheers and applause. The commentator’s voice is almost drowned out by the noise.

“Lando Norris wins the race! What an incredible performance!”

In the paddock, Lando is overwhelmed with joy, the culmination of his efforts and dedication. He pulls off his helmet, his face breaking into a wide smile as he celebrates with his team. He can’t wait to share the victory, to tell you about the race, to see the look of pride in your eyes.

You watch from the hospital room, as Lando stands on the podium, lifting the trophy high, a sense of accomplishment filling him. A smile graces your lips, noticing the pure joy on his face. Then, you close your eyes, the vision of Lando’s smile still fresh in your mind.

Time stands still. As the world fades around you, your family holds you close, their whispered goodbyes blending into a chorus of love and sorrow. The light in your eyes dims, and with one last, labored breath, you slip away into a place beyond suffering.

As soon as the machine flatlines, the piercing sound of the monitor cuts through the room, signaling the end. Your mother's cries shatter the silence, raw and heart-wrenching. She grips your hand with desperate strength, her knuckles turning white, as if her hold on you could somehow bring you back.

"No, no, please!" she sobs, her voice cracking with each word. Tears stream down her face, her body trembling with the force of her grief. She shakes you gently at first, then more insistently, refusing to accept the finality of it. "Wake up, please wake up!"

Your father stands by her side, his own face etched with anguish. He places a hand on her shoulder, trying to offer support, but his own tears betray his stoic exterior. Isaac, standing a little apart, is frozen in shock, his eyes wide and uncomprehending as he watches the scene unfold.

The room is filled with the oppressive weight of sorrow, the air heavy with the collective grief of your family. The nurses, having done all they could, step back to give your family space, their own expressions somber and respectful.

Your mother’s cries grow louder, a desperate plea to a reality that feels too cruel to be true. She holds your hand to her cheek, her tears wetting your skin as she rocks back and forth. "Please, don’t leave us," she whispers, her voice breaking. "We need you."

The doctor steps forward, his face grave, and gently places a hand on your mother’s arm. "I’m so sorry for your loss," he says quietly, his words sincere but powerless against the tidal wave of their grief.

The only reality that matters is the unbearable pain of losing you, and the impossible task of trying to say goodbye.

On the top step of the podium, Lando basks in the glow of victory, the thrill of the race still pulsing through him. But amidst the celebration, a nagging feeling tugs at him, a sense that something is missing. A bittersweet undercurrent flows through his triumph.

Unbeknownst to him, a message of love and gratitude is on its way, bridging the distance between the track and the hospital room, connecting two hearts in a moment that transcends time and space.

Suddenly, your phone rings, the shrill sound cutting through the flatline beeping on the monitor. Each ring echoes through the room like a mournful dirge. Isaac’s hand hovers over the device, his heart pounding in his chest as he hesitates to answer. But when the call comes again, he knows there’s no escaping the inevitable.

With trembling fingers, he accepts the call, the voice on the other end sending a shiver down his spine. “Were you watching the race? I told you that you are my lucky charm.”

Isaac’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes welling with tears at the bitter irony of Lando’s words. He struggles to find the strength to respond, his voice choked with emotion. “Lando… it’s Isaac.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by a tremor of uncertainty in Lando’s voice. “Isaac? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

Isaac’s heart clenches at the desperation in Lando’s voice, his own grief threatening to consume him. “She’s gone, Lando,” he manages to choke out, his voice breaking with sorrow. “My sister… she’s gone.”

The words hang heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the cruel twist of fate that has robbed them of their happiness. Lando’s breath hitches, his voice barely a whisper as he responds. “No… no, that can’t be true. Tell me you’re lying, tell me this is some sick joke please”

Isaac’s heart aches as he hears the disbelief and anguish in Lando’s voice. He wishes he could erase the truth, to shield Lando from the devastating reality they now face. But there’s no escaping it, no denying the painful truth that hangs between them like a heavy shroud.

“I wish I could, Lando,” Isaac murmurs, his own voice choked with sorrow. “I wish this was just a sick joke, but… but she’s really gone.”

There’s a long, agonizing pause, broken only by the sound of Lando’s ragged breathing on the other end of the line. Isaac can imagine the turmoil raging within him, the crushing weight of grief threatening to overwhelm him entirely. He relays the message that you had for him, only hearing Lando breathing heavily in response.

As Lando stands there, clutching the phone that brought him devastating news, the world around him seems to blur into a haze of incomprehensible grief. The congratulations from his fellow drivers fall on deaf ears, their voices distant and muffled as if coming from a far-off place. Daniel, Carlos, George—all of them offer their heartfelt congratulations, their smiles genuine, but Lando can't bring himself to respond.

He feels disconnected, as if he's merely a spectator watching his own life unfold from a distance. The cameras flash around him, capturing the jubilant celebrations of victory, but Lando feels nothing but a hollow emptiness gnawing at his soul.

Unable to bear the facade any longer, Lando excuses himself from the crowd, retreating to the sanctuary of his driver's room. Once alone, the weight of his grief crashes over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him in its depths.

With a gut-wrenching scream, Lando releases the pent-up anguish that has been building inside him since the moment he received that fateful call. He falls to his knees, his body racked with sobs as he grapples with the cruel twist of fate that has torn his world apart.

In that moment of agonizing despair, Lando feels utterly alone, lost in a sea of grief with no shore in sight. The victory he had worked so hard for feels meaningless now, a hollow triumph overshadowed by the devastating loss of someone he held dear.

As the echoes of his cries fade into the silence of the empty room, Lando finds himself consumed by a profound sense of despair. In the midst of his greatest triumph, he is confronted with the harsh reality of mortality, and it is a bitter pill to swallow.

Alone in his hotel room, Lando’s victory feels hollow amidst the empty silence that surrounds him. Instead of celebrating with the fanfare of music, alcohol, and camaraderie that would be expected after such a result, he finds himself throwing his belongings haphazardly into his suitcase, his movements mechanical and devoid of purpose.

The room feels suffocating, the weight of grief pressing down on him like a physical force. With a sense of urgency, Lando hastily gathers his things, his hands trembling as he zips up his suitcase.

As he exits the hotel, he fires off a text to his manager, explaining the situation briefly, typing through his clouded vision full of more unshed tears.

Lando chooses not to drive, the mere thought of operating a vehicle feeling like an insurmountable task. Instead, he hails a taxi, his mind consumed by thoughts of you and the gaping void left in your absence.

The taxi driver casts him a curious glance as he climbs into the backseat, his tear-streaked face a stark contrast to the typical fare. But Lando pays no mind to the stares, his thoughts consumed by the overwhelming grief that threatens to consume him.

Throughout the journey to the airport, Lando’s tears continue to flow unabated, his heart weighed down by the magnitude of his loss. He feels adrift, lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, unsure of how to navigate the tumultuous waters of his emotions.

Lando finds himself grappling with conflicting emotions as he boards the plane back to the town filled with memories of you. Despite the overwhelming pain of revisiting every corner suffused with reminders of your presence, he knows deep down that he cannot stay away.

The thought of pretending that everything is fine when it's not feels like a betrayal of the love you shared, a denial of the profound impact you had on his life. And so, with a heavy heart and a mind clouded by grief, Lando embarks on the journey back to the place where his heart still lingers, knowing that he must confront the pain head-on in order to find a semblance of peace.

Lando’s return to town is marked by exhaustion and dishevelment, the toll of a sleepless night evident in the shadows beneath his eyes and the weariness etched into his features. He barely manages to greet Isaac before retreating to the solitude of the lighthouse, seeking solace in the familiar embrace of its quiet sanctuary.

As Lando stands at the top of the lighthouse, his gaze fixed on the horizon, he can't shake the feeling of déjà vu that washes over him. The flickering beam of the lighthouse casts eerie shadows against the walls, the only sound the mournful cry of seagulls in the distance. It's as if he's been transported back in time, to a moment frozen in history, when tragedy and loss hung heavy in the air.

Tears stream down his cheeks, his sobs echoing in the empty space around him as he allows himself to surrender to the overwhelming tide of emotion.

In the stillness of the lighthouse, Lando is consumed by a sense of profound loss, his heart aching with the absence of the one he longs for. He sits there for hours, his thoughts consumed by memories of you, his soul yearning for the warmth of your presence.

In the dim light, Lando recalls the story you once shared with him, of the tragic love that had unfolded within these very walls decades ago. A woman, waiting faithfully for her lover's return, had spent countless nights standing vigil at the top of the lighthouse, her heart filled with hope and longing. But as the years passed and her lover failed to return, her hope turned to despair, her love transformed into bitter regret.

Now, as Lando stands in the same spot, he can't help but draw parallels between that long-ago tragedy and his own situation. Like the woman of the story, he finds himself clinging to a glimmer of hope, praying for a miracle that may never come. In his heart, he still holds onto the belief that you'll come back to him, that the news of your loss is just a bad dream from which he'll soon awaken.

With each passing moment, however, the harsh reality of your absence becomes more pronounced, the weight of grief bearing down on him like a leaden cloak. Yet, despite the pain that threatens to consume him, Lando refuses to give up hope. He remains steadfast in his vigil, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of your return, his heart yearning for the moment when he'll finally see you again.

His gaze sweeps over every corner of the lighthouse, wanting to etch every detail into his memory. The soft glow of the fading sunlight filters through the windows, casting a warm golden hue over the space. He takes a deep breath, trying to imprint the scent of saltwater and sea breeze into his mind.

As he moves around, his eyes fall upon a small alcove tucked away in a corner, hidden from plain sight. Something tugs at his instincts, urging him to investigate further. With cautious curiosity, he steps closer, his heart pounding in anticipation.

Reaching into the alcove, his fingers brush against something smooth and delicate. He pulls out a folded piece of paper, his breath catching in his throat as he realizes what it is. With trembling hands, he unfolds the note, his eyes scanning the words written in your handwriting.

Lando, I hope this note finds its way to you. It's strange how emotions can turn even the fearless into cowards. I couldn't bring myself to give you this letter in person, so I'm leaving it here, hoping it reaches you. I'm guessing you already know the truth, and that I'm no longer here by your side.

As he reads those words, he can hear your voice in his mind. The acknowledgment that you couldn't face him in person fills him with a mix of sadness and understanding. He feels a pang of guilt, wondering if there was something he could have done differently to make you feel more comfortable sharing your feelings with him.

I don’t think a mere ‘I’m sorry’ is enough for keeping the truth from you. The reason why I did is because every moment with you felt like a dream, and in my dreams, my illness never existed. I’ve always cursed fate for the shitty hand it dealt me but I never would’ve gotten a chance to live something close to the perfect life if it wasn’t for fate.

A melancholic smile tugs at his lips as he reflects on the sentiment expressed in your words. Each moment spent with you had indeed felt like a dream, a precious respite from the relentless demands of the racing world.

Before you came to town, I felt like a living corpse, waiting for my illness to take me under, but when I met you, it gave me a purpose to look forward to the next day. Being your tour guide, although I think it was because you just wanted to spend time with me, was probably the most I’ve lived ever since I was diagnosed. While I used your presence as an excuse to live like I used to, I didn’t ever imagine falling in love with anyone, much less a British racing driver.

A wave of emotions wash over him as he reads your heartfelt confession, his own heart aching with a mixture of sadness and longing. Tears blur his vision as he continues reading, slightly tracing over your words with his finger.

I wish I had the courage to say this to you face to face, to witness your reaction and perhaps hear you say the words back. But one thing I admire about you is your ability to live in the moment. So, in this moment, I want to tell you that I love you, Lando Norris, even though I'm no longer by your side. I hope our memories bring a smile to your face, just as they did to mine.

Please, don’t blame yourself for any of this. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. You're the reason I found joy again, laughter again. Lando, you brought me back to life. Thank you. I'll love you always.

- Your favourite tour guide

As he reaches the final words of the note, he clutches it to his chest, feeling your presence close to him. In that moment, amidst the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, Lando finds a fleeting sense of peace amidst the storm of his emotions. He knows that no matter what the future holds, your love will always remain a guiding light in his heart.

With tears streaming down his cheeks, he whispers a silent promise to you, his beloved tour guide, into the salty breeze surrounding your favourite place. “I’ll never forget you. I’ll carry your love with me, always.”

Then he adds with a sob wracking through his body, “I love you too.”

As he sits in the lighthouse, Lando no longer waits for your return. Yet, he feels your love enveloping him, every word of the note etched into his heart. Though you may be gone, your presence lingers, filling the space around him with warmth and tenderness. In that moment, he finds solace in the memories of your love, knowing that you'll always be with him, no matter where life takes him.

Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @mehrmonga @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @sya-skies @dreamingonbed @oliviah-25 @heylookwhoitis @unabashedkoalawasteland @inejghafawifesblog @poppyflower-22 @charizznorizz @booksandflowrs @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @randomnessis-mine-me @whatever7justchillin @kagome45 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @timmy-wife1 @writtenbykirs @lew444 @kansas-kisses @barackosteaa @hellof-1 @itsbwokenln4 @nixily @reengard @candyeollies @customsbyjcg-blog @heeseungthel0ml @sweate-r-weathe-r @mattymybeloved @saturnbloom77 @ltotheucyy @ironmaiden1313

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ckhaine · 1 day

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O1, intro: montréal | montréal

ᝰ playing montreal by the weeknd. pairing badboy!jk x afab reader genres best friends + fluff angst smut

( intro ) montréal﹕where you and your best friend want to help each other, but don't want to accept it, leading to complications, hurt and a strong sexual desire.

ch. content MATURE, vulgar language, suggestive speech, the beginning of their friendship which takes place in high school, namjoon cameo, degradation, mention of alcoholism, weed, a small argument between jk n joon, daddy issues, usage of weed while being underage ...

may contain some grammar mistakes, please ignore them!

send your thoughts · montréal mlist

> hello, first chapter to montréal, are we excited? would love to know your thoughts. have fun reading this mess, love you!

“… But, common sense, why would I give someone weed for free all ‘cause we have a mutual friend, y’know what I mean? I don’t even know them yet they're talking like we’re all cool. Like, seriously man!” Christian blabbers to Jungkook, using an unnecessary amount of hand gestures.

The words go through one of his ears and right out the other.

Jungkook’s too busy gawking at the beautiful girl two desks away from him, watching you lean to the side to grab something out of your black bag, plump tits tight within the white blouse required for the school uniform, looking like the buttons are close to busting.

Christian nudges his arm, raising a brow. “Hey, do you even hear me?” He frowns, earning a heart-breaking, neglectful wave from Jungkook who brushes him off. “Yeah, no, I agree—the prices are stupid ass hell. Look, I’ma catch y’later, see ya!”

Just like that, he flies out of his chair, leaving his friend sitting all by himself. Jungkook walks towards your desk, clearly his throat and adjusting the tie hanging loose around his neck.

Two large hands are placed on your desk, and you see a tall boy looking down at you.

“Hey, uhhh, think ‘m your partner in science, no? Didn’t know we had a few of the same classes.” You turn your head at the sound of his voice, and Jungkook can feel his heart beating against his rib cage, a bright grin on his lips.

He’s handsome, sucks you didn’t check him out earlier. Taking in his appearance, his messed yet neat slicked-back hair. His white button-up that imprints his defined torso, the black pants paired with simple black shoes.

As if that wasn’t enough, Jungkook has a few, small moles on his face, and one at the side of his neck that you’d love to kiss. Eyes round and dark, lips thin and smooth. Hands mannish while the prominent veins travel up his arms which makes you pray you’re not leaking onto your seat.

“No, no. I remember you.” You chuckle. “Jungkook, right?” You ask, watching him nod as you hum softly. “Nice. What’s up, need something?”

“Nah, I don’t need nothin’, kinda wanted to talk a little … ‘bout the work, that is. You busy?” He asks, slightly tilting his head to the side in question, lips puckered cutely.

Jesus, he’s perfect.

You shrug, “No, we can talk. ‘M finished my assignments for this class, anyway.”

Fuck, you’re smart too.

“Yo, Kook. Who’s that girl you been talking to?” Namjoon grins, a laugh from Christian coming from his side. “Walked past her and lemme tell you, she’s a fuckin’ angel.” He continues.

Jungkook rolls his eyes before glancing both ways in case of a teacher, bringing a joint between his lips once the coast is clear.

He shakes his head, sighing while letting out a light cough. “Yeah? I don’t know, she’s…” Jungkook trails off, chuckling. “She’s beautiful, yeah, but I’on wanna get too close to her,” Jungkook explains yet his brain lags at his own words.

“I don’t wanna care ‘bout her—like, I don’t want her involved in my personal life. If I’m able to avoid her knowing that this is how, more like who I am… that’s what I’ll have t’do.” He sighs, a hand gesturing to himself.

Christian breathes out a cloud of tobacco smoke, raising a brow at his friend. “Why, though? You really think she’d judge you for all of this? I mean, It’s weed, so what?” He asks.

Jungkook shrugs with a light shake of his head. “Drugs,” Jungkook adds. “I don’t see why she wouldn’t. She seems pure ‘n whatever, would probably distance herself from me.”

“Doesn’t mean she is, man,” Namjoon pitches in. Jungkook’s already uninterested. “Haven’t you seen the way she carries herself? Like a lil’ slut but she plays like an angel. She gets along with everyone.” He scoffs.

“Fuck’s she done to you? You’re always sour when one of us got a girl ‘n you don’t, tsk.” Jungkook spits before walking away, leaving Namjoon and Christian looking like a specific duo.

Dumb and dumber.

Within a few weeks, you and Jungkook grew closer. He’d be at your house, sometimes sneaking through your window late at night for so-claimed “studying” yet it turned into rambles and convos which made you adore him more and more.

You got to know more about him, like the childhood he’d lived and it hit awfully close to home. Drunk parents, favouritism, a horrible start to depression—you name it. Though it felt embarrassing to admit or to talk about, Jungkook made you comfortable while he soothed your worries and, well, related.

“… I mean, damn, all I do is depend on pills and cigs—weed, too.” You laugh, watching his eyes twinkle with a soft light, perfectly mirroring a dark night with stars. “I’m sorry, weed? Pills? Cigs?” He asks, thick brows scrunched together.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” You pout, “don’t you smoke too?”

Jungkook thickly swallows, muffling out a throaty chuckle as he nods. “Shit, yeah. Wanna tell me how y’figured that out? Was it that obvious?” He asks, accidentally stacking up questions, curiosity and a bit of defeat seeping into his tone.

You look at him like he’s dense, features falling as your laugh dies. “Are you serious? It’s so apparent on your clothes; makes me confused how the fuck your parents never commented on it… well, so you say.” You state in a duh tone, watching his eyes widen and go rounder than they already were. “I—yeah, they never did.” He sighs.

“I mean, shit, why would they care? My dad was the one who introduced me to weed, said it was a “father and son” bonding time when I was younger,” Jungkook states casually; like it was the most normal thing to humankind.

“I’m sorry—retreat. You said your father did what?” You blurt out, eyes wide and potent with crisis.

#ckhaine 𓃭 #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut

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azrakaban · 2 days

Text

Movie Night - Platonic! Slytherin gang

A/N: I WORKED FOR OVER TEN HOURS ON THIS AND IT DIDN'T SAVE! Gonna scream and cry but instead I'm rewriting while watching Baby which fyi is where editors get their clips of our much loved theodore nott, played by Lorenzo Zurzolo. Also, the chosen movie didn't come out before this fillm, I'm aware, but suck it up buttercups <3

Summary: Movie night with your best friends. What could go right?

warnings: swearing

...

You flopped down onto the bed between Pansy and Astoria, the latter of which immediately smacked you around the head with a frog plushie. "Finally, what took you so long? It's popcorn, not rocket science." She laughed, Pansy rolling her eyes.

"I managed to perfevt the popcorn first try. Alone. However, when I first tried to make it, someone wanted to help, and someone managed to burn the popcorn and nearly blow up the pan!" You said, glaring playfully at Enzo. He gave you an apologetic look, before sitting beside Rhia on a beanbag.

You handed the popcorn bowl to Pansy, who threw a piece at Theodore, who caught it in his mouth, resulting in a triumphant yell, until Astoria's frog plushie smacked him in the face. Mattheo snorted.

You giggled, turning to look at Blaise and Tom, who were fiddling around with a projector.

"You two need some help?" Rhia called, watching as Tom grew more and more frustrated.

"No, we're perfectly capable of doing it by ourselves. Piss off." Tom said, frowning. He then noticed who was talking. "Sorry Rhia, too harsh." He said, voice a shade softer. Rhia smiled and turned back to Enzo, who was showing her an action figure of one of the Irish Quidditch team.

You turned away, tuning back into your conversation with Pansy and Astoria before a loud crash interrupted you. You turned back to Blaise and Tom, the latter of which was muttering 'Reparo' at the projector.

"You sure you still don't need help?" Rhia is just sat there, a small smile on her face as she watches them.

"Again, we're fi-" Blaise cuts Tom off, slapping a hand over his mouth. "He's lying Rhia, help us, please, we're incapable." Blaise says, a pleading look in his eyes.

You laugh as Rhia goes over and sets it up within a minute. Tom is looking very disgruntled, feeling slightly stupid but also slightly impressed by Rhia' capabilities with muggle technology.

Everyone gets comfortable for the film, which is going to be 'Mean Girls'. Tom gives you a look, as you were the one to choose the film, but ultimately he decides to trust your judgement. The film begins, with everyone getting comfortable and snuggly, blankets everywhere.

*a little bit later*

"I don't think my father, the inventor of Toaster Strudel, would be too pleased to hear about this." Gretchen's voice came from the screen, and Theodore laughed. "Wow guys, it's Draco!" He was met with a few laughs, and an extremely sour expression form Draco.

"No no, that's not Draco. She is." Mattheo pointed to Regina. "How do I even begin to explain Draco Malfoy?" He smirked, adopting an exaggerated dreamy expression.

"Draco Malfoy is flawless." Theodore says, sitting up and opening his eyes wide in imitation of the girl from earlier on in the movie.

"He has two fendi purses and a silver lexus." Blaise continued, giving side eyes to either side of him as if someone was listening to him sharing Draco's secrets.

"I've heard his hair's insured for 10,000 dollars." Lorenzo said, gasping and enunciating for dramatic effect. "It's 50,000 actually." Draco muttered.

"I hear he does car commercials... in Japan." Mattheo said furtively, still smirking. Draco rolled his eyes.

"One time he met Harry Potter in a robe shop, and he told her he was pretty." Theodore said, grinning. Draco glared. "Leave Potter out of this." He grumbled quietly.

Then the unthinkable happened.

"One time he punched me in the face. It. Was. Awesome." Tom adopted an american accent, nailing the line perfectly.

Blaise gasped. Theodore did a double take. Lorenzo rubbed his eyes, as if to be sure of what he was seeing. Draco gaped. Mattheo fainted. Rhia, Pansy, Astoria and you bit your lips to keep from laughing.

Mattheo magically regained consciousness after a second, sitting bolt upright. "Do mine ears decieve me?" He said fervently.

"Indeed cousin they do not. I believe thou own kindred hath quoted a line from a movie." Drsco said, clapping Tom on the shoulder.

Tom glared, shrugging it off. "It's thine, not thou. Buffoon." Tom said, rolling his eyes.

"Come on brother, where are the curse words in your sentence? It's not a crime to say them! LOOK! Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. Was I struck by lightning? No sir!" Mattheo exclaimed, laughing and falling off the bed.

"Sorry, what is he on?" Blaise said, raising an eyebrow. You peered over the side of the bed to look at the floor, finding the culprit rather fast.

You help up some elastic circles, and a half empty packet of fizzy cola bottles. "Judging by the debris site, far too many candy necklaces and half a packet of cola bottles." Theodore cackled, lifting his friend off of the floor with Enzo's help and dumping him back on the bed.

Mattheo continued to fidget throughout the movie, clearly still coming down from the sugar high.

...

"It's like I have ESPN or something. My breasts can always tell when it's going to rain. Well, they can tell when it's raining." Karen's voice rang out from the speakers. Blaise cackled.

"Miss girl, your boobs do not have Atmokinesis." He rolled his eyes, finding it far too funny for what the line was.

...

"I'm sorry that people are so jealous of me, but I can't help it that I'm popular." Gretchen's voice came from the film. "MATTHEO CORE!" Yelled Pansy, laughing. He threw a pillow at her, missing and wacking Astoria. There was a scream that shook the heavens.

"YOU'RE A DEAD MAN RIDDLE!" Astoria yelled, snapping off her acrylics in less than thirty seconds and running at him, tackling him and repeatedly hitting him with her pillow.

"Nobody-" Smack "Ruins-" Smack "My Maybelline Sky High Mascara-" Smack "WITHOUT FACING-" smack "THE CONSEQUENCES!" Smack. The girl was feral (understandable.)

Mattheo cowered in fear, not even bothering to fight back.

"Apologize and we can get this over with Mattheo." You said, completely unbothered by the frequent occurence, just letting it happen.

"I'M SORRY ASTORIA! FORGIVE ME PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU!" Mattheo yelled, finally ceasing the pillow abuse.

Astoria finally relented, and joined you back on the bed, gratefully accepting Rhia's mascara.

...

"It's not my fault you're, like, in love with me or something!"

"GIRL SAID WHAT?!" You yelled, jumping up excitedly. Theo rolled his eyes.

"YN you've seen this movie eight times before. You know what she said." He said, turning back to the screen, where Regina was delivering her next line. "Just wait." You muttered.

"See? That's the thing with you plastics. You think everybody is in love with you when actually, everybody HATES you! Like, Aaron Samuels, for example, he broke up with Regina and guess what? He still doesn't want you! So why are you still messing with Regina, Cady? I'll tell you why, because you are a mean girl! You're a bitch! Here. You can have this. It won a prize." Theo audiblu gasped.

"GIRL SAID WHAAAT?" He yelled. You grinned. "Told you."

...

"No! Do you know what everyone says about you behind your back? Hmm? They say that you're a homeschooled jungle freak, that's a less hot version of me! Yeah, so don't try to act so innocent! You can take that fake apology, and shove it right up your hairy c..."

Tom shook his head as Regina was hit by a bus.

"Both of them went too far in that sitch, Bus was deserved." He said, groaning as he realised he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. However, there were no giggles or smirks from the other guys. Instead he was met with five solemn nods.

"When Tom Riddle says it's too far, you know it's too far." Enzo said, nodding his head in agreement.

...

"Oh no, you're not going to end on that are you?" The film credits rolled, and you looked around at your friends, many of whom were passed out tired. You locked eyes with Draco, shaking your heads with a smile.

Tom was sat in silent contemplation. "What's on your mind Riddle?" You said, smiling.

"I think... maybe... not all American high school movies are bad." He said quietly. You gasped.

"Small victories." You whispered to yourself happily, shortly after falling asleep on Astoria's shoulder. Tom followed shortly after, and Draco too, on his silk pillowcase to protect his luxury insured hair.

...

A/N: Thank you for reading! I'm still taking requests, so just comment and I'll try do them quickly. Love you all xx

#don't even ask #harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #slytherins #slytherin boys headcanons #slytherin boys fluff #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #theodore nott x reader

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m1ckeyb3rry · 2 days

Text

── PEREGRINE // FOUR

Series Synopsis: The ways that you and Seishiro Nagi fall together and fall apart over the years.

Chapter Synopsis: You and May go dress shopping before heading to her house for some bonding time. There, she pieces together the truth of your past with Nagi, prompting you to finally reveal everything.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Kira x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.8k

Content Warnings: unhealthy relationships, cheating, non-linear narrative, probably ooc, angst, nagi is endgame, kira sucks, alternate universe, original characters

A/N: i have written and rewritten this chapter so many times it’s illegal and also i still hate it LMFAOAO but at this point the story must go on!!

divider credits: @/benkeibear

“Can we please please please come now?” Reo whined through the phone. You could imagine the way his eyebrows would be drawn together, his eyes huge and shiny with desperation, his mouth twisted with raw sadness as he begged you, and it made you huff. You glanced over at May, who had finally, after hours of trying things on, decided on the dress she wanted to wear for her wedding. Sensing the opportunity to mess with Reo, who had been inundating you with phone calls almost the entire time the two of you had been dress shopping, you smirked.

“No, you can’t. Your future wife is as picky as you are impatient; I don’t know if she’ll even be able to pick a dress before the place closes for the day. Maybe we can plan on doing something tomorrow?” you said.

“What?” he shrieked. There was a thudding noise over the receiver, and you could only imagine that that meant he had dropped his phone on the ground.

“Hello?” you said. Your only response was a shuffling on the other end of the line, and then a soft breath as the phone was held to someone’s ear.

“Y/N, don’t bother Reo like that when I’m responsible for his emotional wellbeing. It’s so annoying.”

“Nagi,” you said, swallowing at just the sound of his sleepy voice. “Give Reo his phone back.”

“Mm, no can do,” Nagi said, his quiet irritation so strong you could feel its weight settling over your shoulders despite your distance. “He’s run off to call a taxi.”

“Call a — that idiot! Is he planning on coming even though I told him not to?” you said.

“Guess so,” he said. “Oh, man, he’s waving me over. Guess I better go…”

“Hold on a second!” you said.

“Hm?” he said. “Ah — Reo, what the hell? No, I’m not making things strange — stop it!”

You blinked, bemused, as Reo’s muffled voice scolded Nagi while he weakly protested. In the end, Reo must’ve won the spat, for he was the one to speak to you next.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry you had to talk to him. And after I promised you I wouldn’t leave the two of you alone!” Reo said.

“It’s okay, Reo, it was just a phone call. If I was uncomfortable, I would’ve hung up,” you said.

“If you say so. Anyways, we’re on our way,” he said.

“I told you not to come, stupid, not the other way around,” you said.

“And I almost believed you, but then I thought about it a little more, and I realized that there was a high chance that you were full of shit,”he said. “What wedding dress appointment takes this long?”

“You obviously haven’t watched enough reality TV,” you said. “There’s this one show that Ryosuke and I used to watch on the weekends where the brides have to choose their dresses live, and let me tell you, some of those sessions really did last an entire day.”

“Okay, but if a bride is crazy enough to be on a reality television show while picking out her wedding dress, then it’s not a surprise that she’d also be hard to please. May isn’t like that; she’s definitely picky, don’t get me wrong, but not in that way,” he explained.

He said it so familiarly: May isn’t like that. You were almost jealous of the way that he understood her so well, understood her to the point that he would catch a taxi to see her a little earlier because he knew she wasn’t the demanding type. You wanted to be understood like that. You wanted someone to be so comfortable with knowing you again.

“You got me,” you said. “I was just joking around. She finished up a few minutes before you called. If you hadn’t flipped out and dropped your phone before running away, I would’ve said that, as well.”

“You’re such a jerk. You’re a major jerk, did you know that?” Reo said.

“I’ve been told,” you said. He scoffed.

“True,” he said. “Okay, we’ll be there soon. Talk to you then!”

“I think May wants me to start trying dresses on myself now, so I’ll probably be getting changed when you guys get here. You can see me in my options and help me choose, though, if you’d like. Ryosuke is busy, so he can’t, which means you’re my next-best option,” you said.

“Ooh, sounds like a blast,” he said. “You know I’m always up for a fashion show!”

“I know,” you said. “Alright, they’re calling me over, so I should hang up. Bye!”

With that, you ended the call and trotted over to where May was talking with the willowy, long-haired designer who was in charge of constructing her dress — a glamorous man by the name of Jyubei Aryu.

“Are you the maid of honor?” Aryu said when you joined him and May, tucking your phone into your pocket as you did so that it did not distract you.

“I am,” you said.

“Wonderful. I’ve put a dress which I found suitable on the rack in the fitting room; please call for assistance if you need it,” he said.

“Thank you!” you said, going in the direction that he had indicated, ducking into the fitting room and admiring the dress he had provided you with.

It was a blush pink, in keeping with the theme of the wedding, and made of a pretty, expensive fabric that you definitely would not be able to afford if Reo had not insisted on paying for the entire wedding party’s outfits. When you slipped it on, it flowed against your skin like water, and it was just as light and comfortable, too. The intricate detailing on the bodice did not itch, and the skirt swished around your ankles as you took uncertain steps forward, acclimatizing yourself to the feel of the gown before daring to venture out in front of the others.

You knew without even asking their opinions that you wanted to get it. Perhaps Ryosuke would shame you for it — you were growing so terrible at being able to discern his will, so for all you knew, he’d hate the option, but it mattered little to you. You liked the dress. You found it beautiful.

Aryu had graciously left a pair of heels approximately your size by the dress, so that it did not drag on the floor when you walked. Fastening the buckle of the dainty ankle strap, you opened the door to the fitting room and crept out to the waiting area, where you knew May would eagerly be waiting to see what you were in.

“Oh, wow,” May said when you rounded the corner. “Y/N! You look so beautiful!”

“Thank you,” you said. “I really like this one. Do you think it’s appropriate for a maid of honor?”

Hers was the only negative you’d entertain. If she didn’t think that the dress was suitable for her wedding, then you’d let go of the idea, albeit begrudgingly. After all, it was her wedding, and whatever she said was what went.

“It’s perfect,” she said, pretending to wipe away a tear, as if you were the bride and she were your lovingly overbearing mother. “Say yes to the dress, Y/N! Although I’m afraid you’ll outshine me if you’re standing next to me in that.”

“Be real,” you said, rolling your eyes. “No one could ever outshine you, May.”

Just then, the bell on the door chimed, announcing someone’s arrival, though it needn’t have. Only seconds after he had stepped in, Reo was declaring his presence to the public with that same gaudy, business-like professionalism he oozed every time he was forced to engage in high society.

“Hello, hello,” he said, somehow managing to simultaneously nod at the secretary, shake hands with Aryu, and wink at you and May, all without looking harried or awkward. “My apologies for any inconvenience our late arrival might have caused. It seems my fiancée’s dearest maid of honor was finding some humor in giving Nagi and I the old run around.”

“It’s not a problem,” Aryu said. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Mikage.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Reo said. “This is Seishiro Nagi, by the way. My best man.”

“It’s good to meet you, too, Mr. Nagi. My wife was a big fan of yours back when you were playing soccer,” Aryu said, holding out his newly-freed hand to Nagi’s in greeting. But Nagi did not take it, far too distracted to even notice, although his phone was for once not in his hands. Reo, who would never let his perfect facade drop in public but obviously wanted to scowl and smack his friend for the rudeness, turned his head to see what could possibly be holding Nagi’s attention if not a screen, and then his eyes widened, because he realized that it was you.

Nagi was gazing over at you in that way only he ever had, that way only he ever could. The weight of his stare was hot and adoring, like there was nothing else in the entire world he could be troubled with, like he’d carry a thousand burdens if it meant that you’d let him collapse at your feet once he grew tired, like you were the one pain he’d willingly take and even seek out. That was the way that Seishiro Nagi gazed at you, and the only thing you could do was cross your arms, like that paltry gesture could ever be enough to ward him off, like you even wanted to ward him off in the first place.

“If you say so,” May sang under her breath, so only you could hear. You startled, having forgotten that she was still standing next to you.

“Ah, Nagi’s not played soccer in a bit,” Reo said, discreetly stepping on Nagi’s foot, breaking him out of his trance. “But I’m sure he appreciates the support. Right, Nagi?”

“Huh?” Nagi said, his eyelashes brushing against his cheeks as he blinked sleepily at Aryu. “Oh. Yeah, right. Does she want an autograph or something?”

“I’m sure she would be delighted!” Aryu said, producing a pad of paper and a pen for Nagi to scrawl his messy signature onto.

“You got your dress?” Reo said, his arm going around May’s waist as he pressed a kiss to her temple. She nodded and beamed up at him.

“It’s amazing,” she said. “The exact kind of dress that I imagined I’d get married in one day.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” he said.

“I wish my mom was here,” May said. “She was so sad that she couldn’t make it in time. I FaceTimed her and all, but it’s not the same, you know?”

“I told your parents not to worry about work or anything,” Reo said, rolling his eyes. “They should’ve just flown over with Y/N and Kira. If their bosses gave them any trouble, I’d have sent lawyers after them or something.”

“Neither of them are comfortable taking advantage of you,” May chided him. “You know that.”

They continued to converse, and you took a step back, feeling as if you were intruding on something private. Rubbing your arm, you stared at the ground, wondering what Ryosuke might be doing back at the hotel. Was he truly taking a nap, as he had claimed? Or was he with another girl again?

Well. Either way, you supposed he was most likely in bed. Snorting at the double entendre, you almost missed Nagi’s soft tap on your shoulder.

“Hi,” he said. You opened your mouth, and then you closed it again, not wanting to be too hasty, not wanting to say something you shouldn’t when Reo and May were right there beside you.

“Hi,” you said back.

“That’s the dress you’re getting for the wedding?” he said.

“Yeah,” you said, adjusting the straps.

“It’s nice,” he said. “You look nice.”

It was such a simple statement that it barely counted as a compliment, but you could not stop the corners of your mouth from twitching as they fought to curve into a smile. After all, hearing things like that from Nagi were so rare — he was never one to find much merit in praising just about anyone.

“Thanks,” you said. “Ryosuke wanted me to choose something pretty, so…”

You saw the way his face closed off at the mention of Ryosuke and immediately cringed, though no one else would even be able to discern the imperceptible shift of his expression. Still, you were quite certain when he shrugged his shoulders slightly in approval that there was distaste brewing in his blank irises, and you bit your tongue, cursing yourself for ruining his mood before pausing.

Why did you care? It was your right to bring up the man you were to marry, wasn’t it? In fact, it was the honorable thing to do, considering your history with Nagi. The reminder was a good thing. A boundary that needed to be set. Something along those lines. So why, then, did it feel wrong? Like you had further torn apart something you might’ve still had a chance at mending?

“He’ll be satisfied, then,” he said. “You’re pretty.”

“Isn’t she?” May said brightly, somehow manifesting at your side, though you had not noticed her walking over. “I told her as much! You should definitely get it, Y/N, if even Nagi can find it in his heart to say something sweet to you about it.”

“Speaking of getting things, Nagi, come on,” Reo said, also appearing from nowhere to tug on Nagi’s sleeve. “We have shopping to do for ourselves. Let’s leave the two of them alone.”

The notion of Reo leaving you alone was so foreign that you almost protested, but then he grinned at you over his shoulder and you recalled his promise, about how he would ensure you and Nagi were not stuck together at any point, as long as it was within his means to keep you both apart.

You didn’t want Nagi to go, though. You didn’t want Reo to keep the two of you apart, but how could you tell him that? Did the words even exist for you to explain any of it? You thought that they mustn’t.

“By the way, I convinced Reo to sleep at Nagi’s tonight,” May said.

“Why would you do that?” you said.

“He should bond with his best man a bit!” she said. “As for me, there’s a lot of bonding that I want to do with you, Miss Maid-of-Honor, and I don’t think you’ll answer my questions if Reo’s within earshot, so this was the perfect idea!”

“I think that I’m not going to like your questions and your bonding very much,” you said.

“Too bad!” she said. “I’m the bride, so you have to do what I say!”

“It’s not your wedding day yet, you know,” you pointed out. “Technically, that doesn’t hold.”

“What happened to you wanting to make my life easier and all of that nonsense?” she said. “I’m just asking you for this one favor, so you really ought to grant it!”

“Okay, okay,” you said. “Let me make sure Ryosuke is fine with me staying at your place again.”

You brought out your phone to call your fiancé, but May snatched it out of your hands the instant he picked up.

“Kira? This is May. Yes, May Ducat, how many Mays do you think Y/N knows and spends time with? She’s going to sleep over again tonight so that she can help me with some preparation stuff. No, you’re right, I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Uh-huh. Oh my god, did you know my future husband could buy your entire life? Shut up and let me have my best friend for the night! You get her every single day back in America, so now it’s my turn!” she said, making a face.

“May!” you said. She handed you back the phone, showing you that Ryosuke had hung up, and then she gave you a double-thumbs-up.

“We’re set for the night!” she said. “I’m so excited!”

“I was literally at your house earlier today. You should’ve just asked me your questions then,” you said.

“Um, like I said, I doubted you would answer if Reo was around, and anyways, I just came up with some of them now,” she said.

“Whatever,” you said. “Okay. I’m excited, too.”

You were not, considering the types of questions you sensed she was going to ask, but when she tackled you in a hug and promised you that you would have so, so much fun, it was hard to say that aloud.

Luckily, all of your things were still at May and Reo’s, so after everything was bought and paid for, with shipping arranged via one of Reo’s assistants, you could go straight to their house instead of having to stop at the hotel again. Reo, who had taken a cab back to get his car before dropping you off, waved merrily as the two of you stepped into the driveway.

“Have a nice night, both of you!” he said.

“You, too. Try to finish that one zombie adventure thing you and Nagi started last month. I don’t want to hear about it on our honeymoon,” May said.

“Actually, we both got the new Pokémon games while we were waiting for you to finish choosing your dress, so we’re going to start those together tonight and see who can beat the Champion first,” Reo said.

“Make sure to choose the fire type starter, then,” she said seriously. “They’re always the best ones.”

“No, Nagi usually chooses water, so I have to pick grass, just in case he challenges me to a battle at some point,” Reo said.

“Only lame people choose grass,” May said. “I always go for fire. What about you, Y/N?”

“I’ve only played Pokémon once, and it wasn’t my game, so I didn’t even finish it,” you said. “And I picked the one I thought was the cutest. I do think it was the fire one, though.”

“That’s what I like to see!” May said, high-fiving you.

“And how many battles have either of you beaten Nagi in?” Reo said. “That’s right, zero. So I don’t want to hear it!”

“How many battles have you beaten Nagi in?” May said. Reo glared at her.

“See you tomorrow,” he said, rolling the window up and driving off without another word.

“If only the girls at my high school had known what a big baby Reo really is,” you said. “They wouldn’t have made a fan club for him.”

“He actually had a fan club?” May said. “He told me that that wasn’t real!”

“It was real,” you affirmed. “Believe me. The Reo Mikage Fan Club and I have a long and storied history, so you should trust me more than him on the topic.”

“Were you a member?” she said, unlocking the front door and ushering you in. You choked on your saliva at the mere prospect.

“No way!” you said, sitting down on a bar stool at the kitchen counter while May dug around in her cabinets.

“Found it!” she said, brandishing a box of grocery store mac and cheese. “Reo would have a fit if he knew this was in our house, so I’ve kept it hidden away for a special occasion, but what’s more special than this? Also, I was just kidding.”

“Remember when we made Reo eat those cups of mac and cheese that you make in the microwave and he almost threw up?” you said.

“Yup,” she said. “And then he started complaining about the chemicals and additives and whatnot! As if that’s not half of the fun and flavor.”

“That must’ve been before Chigiri had the fire department called on him for forgetting the water in his microwave noodles,” you said. “The RA banned their microwave after that, right?”

“Oh, jeez, I forgot that that happened! They used to have to come to our room to warm up their leftovers,” May said, shaking her head. “What a time.”

“Do you miss it?” you said.

“Being in college?” she said. “Yes and no. I miss being your roommate and seeing you all of the time, and I miss how carefree everything was back then, but at the same time, I’m really happy now. I wouldn’t trade those years for anything, but I don’t mind that they’re over. Whatever comes next, I’m sure it’ll be great in its own way, even if it’s different. Maybe especially because it’s different.”

“That’s a good way of looking at things,” you said.

“What about you?” she said.

“The same, I guess. I miss everyone being together,” you said. “I still have Ryosuke and Chigiri, but it’s not the same without you and Reo there. My life is much more stable now, so that’s a positive, but sometimes I do wish I could go back and change things.”

“What would you change?” May said.

“I’m not sure,” you said. “It’s just a thought. I wish I could know what my life would look like now if I had followed a different path at some point or another, you know?”

“You told me earlier that you weren’t happy,” she said, putting down a dish of macaroni in front of you, sitting down at your side with her own plate. “That you were satisfied, but not happy.”

“That’s right,” you said.

“Why can’t you be both?” she said. “Why can’t you be happy and satisfied with your life?”

“I just can’t,” you said.

“There is a reason,” she said. “Tell me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong!”

“You can’t help me regardless,” you said bitterly, stabbing a clump of pasta with your fork. “I gave up my chance at happiness for the sake of my future, that’s all. I left it behind in search of the very life I have now. You’ve known since we met that I don’t have any particular dreams; if my existence is mundane and tired, then it’s okay. That’s my goal. Not everyone gets to be Cinderella like you, May.”

“Left it behind in search of the very life you have now…” May muttered, narrowing her eyes at you. Although psychology had not been her degree, it was suddenly so clear why she had chosen to minor in it — she was uncannily good at reading people. “It, or him?”

You dropped your fork. “What did you just say?”

“Correct once again!” she said triumphantly. “I’ve been suspecting it for a bit. There’s someone else, isn’t there? I was so sure it was Chigiri, but I could never find the final bit of proof for that theory, so I was forced to dismiss it. This led to a new puzzle, though: if not Chigiri, then who? You’ve always tended to avoid talking to guys, at least as long as we’ve been friends, so the list of options was pretty limited.”

“Why does everyone think Chigiri and I are secretly dating?” you said, throwing your hands up in the air. “You’re not the first person to accuse me of it, and for some reason, I feel like you won’t be the last.”

“Don’t distract me when I’m on a roll!” she said, pointing her fork at you. “Anyways, it was bothering me for a while, but after last night and today, I was finally able to put it together.”

“You didn’t put shit together,” you said frantically. “May, you didn’t put anything together. Don’t say it.”

“I’ve never seen Nagi look at anyone the way he looked at you in that dress,” she said. “That was the first clue. From there, it all began to make sense. Why else would he come to dinner when he never agrees to such outings on any other occasion? What other reason could there be for your awkward relationship? You said that you hated him for a complicated reason. Well, this is definitely complicated! For one, you’ve been lying to everyone about the true nature of your feelings — that is to say, you are, or at some point were, in love with Seishiro Nagi!”

“I don’t like this bonding activity anymore,” you said. “Let’s do something else. Wanna play cards?”

“Wait, I’m actually right? I mean, of course I am, I’m always right,” she said. “I can’t believe it, though. How does that even make sense? You guys are total opposites.”

“Obviously we are. Don’t you think that there’s a reason it didn’t work out between the two of us?” you said. “You are right, as usual. When we were in high school, Nagi and I were together. The break up was mutually agreed upon and for both of our benefits. It was a long time ago, and in the grand scheme of things, largely inconsequential. Happy now?”

“If you were telling the truth, I would be,” she said. “Let me guess which part you were lying about…hm. I think that that relationship wasn’t inconsequential in the slightest.”

“When you’re in high school, every relationship feels earth-shattering and all-consuming. That doesn’t mean it is,” you said. “At the time, he was important to me.”

“And now he’s not?” she said.

“Now he can’t be,” you said. “I’m engaged. I’ve moved on, and so has he. He was the one to do so first, actually. I didn’t start dating Ryosuke until I realized that there was no point in looking backwards, not when the rest of the world will leave you behind if you get stuck like that.”

“What the fuck,” May said, holding her head in her hands as you continued to eat your dinner. You didn’t blame her for the dramatics; her entire view of your history had just been shifted, and not necessarily for the better. “Y/N. What the fuck. Kira was your second choice? I thought you were totally crazy about him!”

“First choice, second choice, does it matter?” you said. “He’s the one I’ll wed.”

“Do you wish it was Nagi instead?” she said.

“No,” you said. “He deserves better. He always has. Even back then, he deserved someone better than me. I’m glad I’m not marrying him.”

“Woah, woah, woah. That’s just about the opposite thing I was expecting you to say. He deserves better? He’s probably too lazy to even shower properly! If anyone deserves better, it’s you,” she said.

You took a sip of water to clear the thick feeling from your tongue. “It might seem that way, but to be frank, I’m a very hard person to love. Just ask my parents and Ryosuke if you don’t believe me. Nagi should be with someone who isn’t a pain, and though he never said so, I know I was always a hassle for him.”

“Why would you say something like that about yourself? You’re not hard to love,” she said. You exhaled, pushing your now-empty plate away and resting your chin in your hands.

“When I was a child, my parents only cared about one thing,” you said. “Whether I’d grow up to be beautiful enough to seduce the son of a rich man. Not whether he’d love me — love doesn’t matter, you see. People can fall in and out of love quite easily. Financial obligations, duty, the law…those are things you can rely on. Would I be beautiful enough to stand by a wealthy man’s side? To be worthy of bearing his children and binding him to me forever? They were obsessed with that question and its answer, and that obsession had its consequences.”

May was quiet for a moment as she took your words in. “I didn’t know that.”

“Don’t blame yourself. I didn’t tell you. I’ve only ever managed to tell one other person all of this,” you said.

“Reo?” she guessed. You laughed sadly.

“Reo? No, not him. I wish that I could, but he’s not the sort of person I can talk to about these types of issues. He has his own, more pressing problems,” you said. Understanding dawned on her face.

“Nagi,” she said. “You told Nagi.”

“I did,” you said. “He knows more about me than anyone in the entire world. The truth, since you’re so determined to figure it out, is that I loved him back then, May, though I should have known better. Love is never enough. You can’t save someone just by loving them, and neither can you change who they really are.”

May cocked her head. “Huh? Y/N, what do you mean by that? What…what really happened between the two of you? Because obviously, Reo had no clue what was going on, and I’ve only ever heard about your high school years from him.”

“What happened between the two of us? It was a series of mistakes, the biggest of which were allowing him to fall for me and falling for him in return,” you said. “It’s really hard to live a life without love once you’ve known it. I keep searching for it in places that it won’t ever exist, but deep in my heart, I’m aware that I’ll never be able to find it again, not in any way that lasts. Not in any way that resembles what I had during my last year in Japan, in those few months I spent with Seishiro Nagi.”

taglist (comment/send an ask to be added): @mariyumemi @naatggeo @prettyarsxnist @noble-17 @rinitoshisgirl @stuckindreamland06 @little-miss-chaoss

#nagi x reader #nagi x y/n #nagi x you #nagi seishiro #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #modern au #peregrine #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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beauty-and-passion · 2 days

Note

This is going to sound really strange but the most recent GRWM video has. Some of the best Janus characterisation I think we’ve seen in a while?? Also he canonically sheds now, so

You are not wrong, anon: this is the best characterization in a while. It's way better than the last one, in which Janus was mostly a drunk idiot, and it's way worse than SvS. This one sits in the middle: it's not bad, it's not amazing. It's good.

Just like Mr. Sanders' last videos regarding Sanders Sides, this GRWM is okay. Not groundbreaking, not impressive, not deep, not stupid. Just okay.

And trust me, this is the best possible outcome! When I found out Thomas was planning a video with Janus and it was a GRWM and Janus had questions to answer... I wasn't just scared, oh no. I was absolutely terrified. I feared to see the destruction of Janus' character. I feared to see him being all like: "YASSS QUEEN all I love is WINE and nothing else, also being SASSY is my religion BIATCH".

And we got a bit of that, sure. But it was a bit, not the avalanche I expected. I was bearable.

After all, this is just a random video. There's nothing plot-related here. Heck, there's not even too much Sanders Sides stuff, because this GRWM clearly was Thomas' attempts to reconnect with the character. I shouldn't care too much about it. I shouldn't overanalyze it.

But you know me: you know I love to over-analyze. And if you know me, you also know that Remus is my favorite child, but Janus has a special place in my heart and if one little thing about him is off I will start rambling.

Hence why I will overanalyze the shit out of these 9 minutes of a video and I will do what I shouldn't do, i.e. look back into the past's characterization. Not for shaming Mr. Sanders for not remembering it (even if the videos still exist and he can watch them too if he wants), but to remind you all of Janus' personality. The public needs to remember what kind of character he was and who he became.

So I'll over-analyze everything and no, you can't escape. You're stuck with me here, so put your seatbelt on, because you're in for one of the things I love the most: talking about Janus.

The importance of nuance

Let's talk about make-up a little bit. Don't worry, by the end you will understand my point.

The current make-up isn't even comparable to the past one. And if a lot of people complain about it and prefer the old one, it's not because they're all demanding: it's because of nuances.

Let me explain and let's start with the current photo Mr. Sanders showed to promote the GRWM video:

If you look at this make-up, your eyes will inevitably be drawn towards that sharp black line. And as soon as you will look at it, you will immediately register it as a drawn line.

It's so clear and so evident it's a line, I can literally see the black liquid eyeliner, the tip and the hand tracing that line on Thomas' skin.

But this line isn't supposed to be a line: it's supposed to be/resemble a snake's mouth.

Now, look at the past make-up:

The line isn't sharp black: the line is nuanced. You can see a bit of brown and a hint of red/pink to give it depth and emphasize the shadow.

Also, this color is very similar to the little shadow given by Thomas' upper lip on the lower one, so it looks more natural against his skin tone. It doesn't seem like something added on him, but on something that was already part of him. And isn't that the goal of make-up? To add something and disappear, so people won't notice it exists in the first place?

Look at the eye as well: the past one is a softer, more nuanced pink. It looks more natural, against Thomas' skin tone. The present one is so dark, it looks more like a bad bruise.

So the problem with the current make-up isn't just that the colors aren't the same: it's that the current colors are too much. They're too sharp, too saturated and, consequently, too fake. It's clear that Thomas wears make-up, while in the past the blend was softer, the colors closer to Thomas' actual complexion. Consequently, the make-up faded and gave us an illusion of reality.

I know Mr. Sanders had skin conditions and everything, but I'm talking about colors and nuances here. Two things a make-up artist should know better than me, an idiot on the Internet who loves art, color theory and learns from artists on the web. You can obtain these things independently of the used products.

So my opinion on the make-up would be: please Mr. Sanders, switch for softer tones, no sharp black and no coral. Too much. Nuance is the key.

And not just for make-up.

---

The fakeness of reality tv

Janus enjoys reality television because nothing about it is real. His specific words are:

I very much enjoy reality television: the scheming, the plotting, the lying. Every person for himself and even on top of that, all of the production none of reality television is actually real. It's just delightful.

I get the idea behind it and I understand why Thomas thought it was a good choice. On paper, it works: Janus should enjoy this kind of show because it's made of lies and he's Deceit.

But if I follow this line of thought, I inevitably meet with Janus from Into the Unknown:

[Patton]: Well yeah I guess you'd like it, everyone all dressed up, disguised as someone else... [Janus]: How is it we've had so many of these visits and you still know so little about me?

Janus himself said that not everything associated with lies is something he enjoys. And it makes sense, because Logan too said the same thing in the last Aside:

"Is that all I am to you? The reading guy?"

So now I'm asking: why does he like reality tv? Just because it's fake? Then why is he so happy about it being fake? Reality tv should represent reality, it should mirror how society works. And thanks to SvS, we know Janus doesn't hold society into high consideration:

[Deceit]: Society itself is a lie! (...) You get enough people to share a piece of land and breathe the same air and... you've got a society. Why? It's just a bunch of people in the same general area. It's an abstract concept, as real as the monster under your bed! But we obey these rules or get punished for breaking them. All in the name of society. It's absurd and terrifying.

Just like society, reality tv has a group of people put together and they make a society. It's an abstract concept, as real as the monster under your bed. And these people must obey the rules or get punished for breaking them.

And yet, Janus doesn't think reality tv is "absurd and terrifying", but "delightful".

Again: why does he like it? Why does he like something so similar to what he hates most?

Maybe you can live with the "It's fake" explanation and that's good for you. But what if instead of liking reality tv because "it's fake", Janus likes it, because it perfectly mirrors the flaws and the emptiness of society? What if he enjoys it, because he loves the irony of society using its own means to unmask itself and show its real face? What if he watches it, not because "it's delightful", but because it's bittersweet to see such an inability to understand your own flaws?

Which explanation do you think is more fitting for his character?

---

Remus eats glue sticks

Of course he does. His digestive system is probably able to digest molten lava, so glue sticks are a walk in the park for him, bless his chaotic soul <3

(Have I already said Remus is my favorite boi?)

---

The possibilities of shedding

Okay, the "Have you considered not having pores?" is hilarious and I love it on multiple levels.

Well, here we are. Janus sheds, two to four times a year. And I know the fandom went crazy over this and I'm happy for you... but I never really cared too much about it.

I mean: it's fine, but I can't really think of anything truly special to headcanon about it. Snakes shed their skin all the time and they just chill around, while slowly peeling their skin off. It's not dangerous, it doesn't hurt, it's just exfoliation time✨. I mean, does it hurt you, when you remove sunburnt skin? Don't think so. The worst thing for snakes is probably not being able to take the skin off with hands, since they don't have hands.

But hey, this is canon now, so I should probably integrate it in my headcanon. And I can do it in two different ways:

The shedding is just part of Janus' routine: twice a year he gets one day off, takes a reeeeally long bath and slowly peels off his skin until he's done.

I can take inspiration from this fanart and imagine the shedding as a real "leaving your body behind" process, in which Janus slowly gets submerged into his room and re-emerges as a form of pure power and instincts, which then solidifies into a new body. I think I like this idea more, because when I go with Janus, I need something that makes him look either more god-like or more monster-like.

And since we're talking about snake traits, how many more does he have? Because I already added a few on my list, like:

sunbathing

climbing trees

laying everywhere (especially on trees)

taking long relaxing baths

And I'm just waiting for an excuse to add "mating". But I suppose only future will tell.

---

What you don't like

"An important aspect of being oneself, in addition to knowing what you like, is knowing what you don't like and saying to that thing: ew get away from me, I don't like you... Roman"

Okay, that was genuinely funny and it made me smile, so kudos for that, Mr. Sanders. It was a clever move and I enjoyed it.

Also, for more reasons I will explain further down, this makes me want to write a conversation between Janus and Roman, to study how they work together, why they don't like each other and their personalities in general. My only problem would be to put it on a timeline, because I don't like to write things suspended in a temporal vacuum. If inspiration strikes, maybe I'll do it.

---

Religion... and self-preservation

Now, I don't know who made that question about Jesus Christ, but you. You. You gave me real fear... but also indirectly confirmed one of my headcanons, so thank you, I suppose.

I was bracing myself, waiting and hoping Thomas didn't say anything stupid, because Janus and religion have a super tight bond and one misstep can lead to me rambling for the rest of my life, all while throwing canon into the trash because no one can say anything wrong about the relationship Janus has with religion, not even Mr. Sanders.

But the answer was... okay. Harmless. A bit simplistic, maybe, but I can accept Janus saying that Jesus is cool for having followers and turning water into wine.

What really struck me the most was when he said Jesus is his style because "he refuses to die".

For me, that's the most important part of the video. You can take away everything else, because this is the only part that matters for me.

Why? Because this is the essence of self-preservation. Because, as I said in the past, self-preservation is that force that protects you from dangers, threats, even yourself. And it protects you from death. It's part of that intrinsic will to live that defines all living creatures.

So, since Janus encompasses this role too, it has always been implied (at least for me) that he's that force that will fight against death until the end, just to make Thomas live a little longer. In my headcanon, he literally refuses to think Thomas can die before his time, because he's built to not make this happen.

Hence why when I saw Janus putting such emphasis on the idea that Jesus refuses to die made me immensely happy, because it's (implied) canon. Janus refuses to die, because he will never surrender to death. Because it's his nature, to never surrender to it.

---

Deceit or Ego?

The snake telepathy part was fun when mentioned, then it was followed by the "memememe I'm gorgeous" part, which is perfect if you're the representation of Ego, a bit less if you're deceit.

Speaking of that, I think there's a bit of confusion in Thomas' mind regarding these two aspects. And since they're represented by two different Sides, the contrast is even more jarring.

Janus is confident and this is part of his personality. But confidence isn't repeating "me" in your head 400 times and telling yourself that you're gorgeous and handsome even when sitting still. This isn't confidence, this is Ego. This is something Roman could say to himself... and he did it, in the past. He looked at himself all the time, called himself gorgeous, asked if his makeup was okay because the prince's gonna slay, said he dramatically serenaded himself in front of the mirror. All these things are a constant reconfirmation of yourself and this is what the Ego does: it constantly reconfirms you're great and cool and gorgeous.

Confidence, on the other hand, doesn't need constant confirmations. If you're confident, you already know you're great, you don't need to repeat it yourself. You just do your things and if others criticize you, you shrug their reprimands off.

One example of confidence from this video? This part:

"What are my guilty pleasures?" Guilty pleasures? Why would a pleasure be guilty? I've got none of those. Indulge in your pleasures guilt-free, people: life is short.

This proves Janus is confident, WAY MORE than him repeating how cool he is. This is the tone he should've had for most of the video, not that "Oh, look at how cool I am".

Also because it may seem a paradox, but the more you repeat how cool you are, the less people will believe you. That's why people who constantly show off are perceived as weak and insecure: because they search for a constant reconfirmation they would probably never need, if they were truly confident.

---

All of the selfcare - and what else?

Aside from the things I already mentioned, the rest of the video is mostly made of advice like "your opinion is the only one that matters/others are less than you/don't give a shit about others".

I don't know if this is Mr. Sanders making a reminder to himself to not indulge in criticism too much, but okay, let's ignore it XD

These pieces of advice can all be traced back to another aspect of Janus' personality: the self-care one. The last canonical one.

And since it's the last, I can understand why Thomas latched onto it and made it be like 60% of the video. It's probably the part of Janus' character he remembers the most.

And it's the easiest too, along with the "sassy" aspect. Put them together and you get the sassy queen who tells you to relax dear, don't give a fuck about the rest of the world.

So I understand you, anon, when you say this is the best characterization in a while: it is, because it's based on the last canonical piece of Janus' character, mixed with the "sassy" aspect that developed more recently. Of course it seems more coherent with Janus' character, compared to him being drunk for an entire video.

But even if canonical, self-care is just an aspect of Janus' personality and it makes most of the video. The remaining part is a huge amount of Ego, which shouldn't even be here, because it's Roman's trait.

And the other aspects? Nowhere to be seen. No distaste for society, no cryptic language, no wittiness, barely any lie, barely any real confidence, barely any body language and zero foreseeing ability.

I know what you're thinking and yes, I said at the beginning that this video is clearly just a way for Mr. Sanders to reconnect with the character. So I understand why Janus' personality is like that and that there are mistakes or incomplete things. I am not blaming Thomas for trying.

I am writing this post, to remind you Janus' full personality. To remind you that he's not just "sassy wine aunt/self-care queen".

On the contrary, I think present Janus is exactly like his make-up: the traits are similar to the original one, but the aspects are too sharp. They should be here, they are part of him, but they're not in the exact shade or nuance to be him. They are similar, but off, because something is missing. And that something is nuance.

In the end, that's what this post is all about: nuance. Past Janus was more nuanced, because he was more than one aspect. Present Janus is less nuanced, because he's stuck between two aspects - which is a truly cruel irony, considering his entire thing is being a gray, multifaceted character.

My only hope is that, just like with the make-up, Mr. Sanders will find a way to bring nuances back into Janus' character and make him at least similar to who he used to be.

#sanders sides #ask #thomas sanders #janus sanders #I just love this character a lot #he has a ton to offer #and he has such a gray multifaceted personality #he doesn't deserve to become a one-dimensional cardboard

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lichenes · 2 hours

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I need protective jealous Joost. Maybe your at one of his concerts or an afterparty and someone keeps on flirting with you and you are trying to make it clear you not into them and uncomfortable so Joost comes to the rescue 🙏 (maybe some public making out occurs idk 🙈)

Thank you for the ask anon!! I need him biblically, truly CW: kissin, creeps, alcohol mentioned wc: 444

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

“Bedankt!!” He said waving at the audience. Joost went backstage. “You did so well.” You said putting your hands on his bare chest, the t-shirt discarded somewhere amongst the frenzy of the event. He was still full with adrenaline which made him… eager. He kissed you fervently as a hello to you and one of many kisses you were to receive that night.

You went to the nearest club so you could let out the pent up energy you’ve accumulated over the span of the concert. Joost was still ready to party (as always) so he didn’t mind. You were dancing with him, the steaminess of the club not helping you both with the fervour you were both feeling at the moment.

You decided to sit down for a while, leaving him to his own devices, when you were approached by a guy looking way more inebriated than you’d like. Before he said anything you pointed out Joost who was intimidating in his tall posture and proudly proclaimed him as your boyfriend. “I could sweep you off your feet better than this guy.” He leaned closer. “I could fuck you better than him too.”

You twisted your face in a grimace giving him a look of disgust and as suddenly as he appeared you saw him being dragged away by Joost. You couldn’t quite make out what he was talking about as the music was deafening. The guy was ready to fight Joost right then and there. He explained something calmly and sent the guy on his way. When Joost was done the guy walked away mumbling something under his breath.

He walked up to you even more steamed up than before and gave you an intense kiss which knocked the wind out of you. “Love you~” He mumbled into your mouth, making your stomach flutter. Between kisses you managed to let out “What did you say to him?”

“That you’re mine.” He said tipsy from the drinks you both had. “‘nd that you wouldn’t leave me for a drunken creep.” You grinned and moved closer to kiss him. You put your hands into his hair and tugged, making him let out a groan. His hands were resting on your cheeks making sure you could not get away. He needed you all to yourself especially after that stupid fucking guy who thought he could steal you away.

He sat down and motioned for you to get closer to him. “C’mon, need you…” He said, his hands not once leaving your body. You sat in his lap receiving a ‘good job’ kiss as you settled into his larger body.

“Ik wil niemand anders dan jou.”

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────• masterlist

#x reader #joost klein x you #joost klein fanfic #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost klein #eurovision 2024 #eurovision #writing

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dandysnob · 2 days

Note

Would you mind giving us your favourite interview-moments of Paul? Much love to you 💙

Much love to you, too, Anon! ヾ(・ω・*)ノ💓 I love this Ask, thank you!

I'd like to focus on interviews that made me smile or laugh so hard that I keep a clip on my phone to watch again when I need to cheer myself up!

Paul Landers Talks New Album, Fire and More, 2017 📺 : I love this interview, because besides containing nice anecdotes and the gem “if no one dies, we'll have a new album out soon,” Paul randomly shits on Italian rock music which always makes me laugh! [e.g. 💩]

Telehit, Mexico, 2001 📺 : Iconic interview chock-full of moments that I still quote today! Paul exclaiming RAA RAA gives me life every time tbh! [e.g. 🗣️] I freaking love when he makes the hand gesture of groping the air like when you grope fruit in the supermarket to see if it's good and then says "it's a very cheap trick from us to slimy into the people." Bonus Till getting a laugh out of it!

VIVA TV 📺 : I could not help but include Paul who for once keeps his mouth shut and just makes expressions while Olli talks. Bless him, he's trying so hard.

ROCK HARD VIDEO, 2001 📺 : This is one of my favourite interviews of all time. If you've never watched it, I urge you to do so because it's interesting, stupid cute and full of great gems. The explanation he gives as to why they called the album Mutter always makes me smile. Bonus messy ciambellino rosso my beloved 🤲🏻🍩❤️

"Rammstein: Paris" Premiere 📺 : Last but not least, Paul explaining how he holds his guitar. Bonus Richard making him laugh. 💕

#rammstein #paul landers #till lindemann #flake lorenz #näd replies

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 2 days

Note

Imagine this in Duck Adam au:

Lucifer: I just really miss him Grumpy… *Pets his head and wings*

Adam: YOU’RE MAGIC ASSHOLE! YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO, I don’t know, turn into a duck and hear me?! Give me a voice?! Get that true loves kiss bullshit out of me!?

Grumpy: Angry duck noises

Lucifer: I should’ve told him already. I was blinded… If it could bring him back, I can throw everything away… If he was right here, right now, I would go straight to his arms and kiss him until we both lose our breaths…

Adam: Wh-What?

Grumpy: Quack?

(By the way, Lucifer already gained Adam’s forgiveness, he saw he was truly sad while he cried his heart out to him. But Lucifer never mentioned his feelings for Adam before.)

Lucifer: I know, it’s stupid. He’d hate me if he was here anyway… But *sniff* I can give everything! He deserves it…

Adam: I wouldn’t! Dumbass!

Grumpy: Quack! Quack!

Lucifer: Whatever. He’s never returning after all. But it still hurts… Good night Grumpy.

Lucifer kisses Grumpy’s beak.

Guess you can imagine what happens next.

He would transform the moment the kiss took place.

Lucifer: A-Adam.....

Adam: What? GASP! *Looks down at himself* I'm not a duck anymore...... I'M NOT A DUCK ANYMORE!! Ooof!

Lucifer, holding him: I thought you were dead.

Adam: Beats me on how it happened. At least I don't have to worry about that freak trying to eat me anymore. Luci....

Lucifer: Adam I-

Adam leaned forward and kissed him sweetly: Thank you, Luci. For everything, I forgave you a long time ago.

Lucifer: You know, it actually makes sense that "Grumpy" would be you.

Adam: Shut up.

Lucifer; I'm so glad you're alive. *Remembers everything he told the duck* Ooooh I can explain.

Adam: No need, I heard everything. *Kiss* And I love you too, dumbass.

Then you can guess what happens lol

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask #duck adam au

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darklinaforever · 18 hours

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Just because Emma D'Arcy says Daemyra is grooming doesn't mean that's the case. The actor, in the same interview, was literally wrong about Rhaenyra's age in episode 4.

Emma D'Arcy is an imperfect human being who can say stupid things. Especially today, many people use big words without knowing their real definitions.

I will add that even if Emma was talking about grooming, they did not agree and still did not find the scene where Daemon strangled Rhaenyra coherent, and rightly this time. Emma also said that they reads Daemyra fanfiction. So that basically means that they ship despite the problematic aspect. I wouldn't call it a victory for the antis.

Essentially, Emma D'Arcy seems neutral on Daemyra.

Also, Emma D'Arcy is an actor, paying to say certain things in interviews. Who's to say they's not just following the writers' stupid agenda ?

Then, I have already explained countless times that no, Daemon is not a groomer, notably in these posts, where I have also for some addressed the case of Emma D'Arcy and they grooming statements :

Moreover, even if the writers seem obsessed with a non-existent story of grooming between Daemyra, they do not seem to deny that it is a romance either. These people, and even HBO, obviously still have their ass between two chairs :

I will add that no, Daemon is not a pedophile either. Go to @nrilliree to get the definition because I'm clearly too lazy to explain again :

Especially since if you give me the example of the young prostitutes (which the antis also love to pass off as younger than they probably realistically are, like under 13 years old, just to make it really disgusting) when Daemon was in his 20s, know that they were all maidens.

“Maidens” is a term they use to refer to young unmarried women. In brothels these maidens were most likely between 15 and 17 or higher do to the lack of nutrition of the peasants. A bad nutrition causes someone's period to come later.

So no, they weren't little girls. This was for the time of young women literally according to society's of Westeros marriageable age.

The worst you can say about this case of prostitutes is that Daemon had a fetish for virgin maiden for a period in his younger years. (And even if it's obviously not great, I'm not sure #irony that we can put it on the same level as a groomer, a pedophile and a rapist... Yes I'm making an insituation in Aegon II for the last 2 points. We're getting there...)

Aside from that, Daemon was in a relationship with his then favorite, Mysaria, an adult, he also married Laena later, also an adult, and also married Rhaenyra when she was an adult (all according to our modern standards), although yes, he courted her when she was 14. But I remember that Rhaenyra had reached the age where she could marry and had already been courted by men. It's not surprising in the context that Daemon courted her. Especially since there is no evidence that anything sexual happened between them at that time. (One talking about sex is Mushroom, and we know to what extent he is obsessed with it and therefore that his testimony is almost worthless, and the second is Eustace, pro greens. And I remind you that the greens were already making up bullshit on Rhaenyra's sexuality before Daemon's return)

Basically, Daemon has always slept with maiden, and always of varying ages. (which is completely wrong with the definition of pedophile)

Limit, you can talk about ephebophile, but as @nrilliree already said, there is no evidence on this subject, especially since Daemon has also been with adult women several times (Mysaria for a little more than 1 year, Laena for 5 years, and Rhaenyra for 10 years), and this by our own standards modern.

Also, what makes me laugh is that these same people who will claim that Daemon only likes young girls who are essentially minors according to our time (because obviously they will look at age only according to our time, which is an error given that the historical context of this universe is completely different from ours, but in short), claiming that Daemon only married Rhaenyra for power and striving to say that Laena was 15 / 16 years old like in the HOTD show when he married her, while no, she was 22 in Fire and Blood. Well these same people will come and tell you and claim that Daemon did cheat on Rhaenyra with Mysaria, in addition to Nettles, during the dance.

An event whose veracity we also cannot prove and which seems somewhat strange when we take a closer look (so you will guess that I don't particularly believe in it either). See @horizon-verizon posts for that.

Why do I say it's funny ?

Well because Mysaria is an adult woman, much older than Rhaenyra and Laena.

But tell me... if Daemon is so obsessed with underage girls... why would he have slept with a former lover of his, who was already an adult at the time, and even older at this point there ?

We see that what really interests them is more to say bad things about Daemon whoever he is, rather than having any real consistency in their comments and accusations. (And if anyone dares to say that Daemon was sleeping with Mysaria to ensure he got her on his side... wtf ? Rhaenyra is the queen. She pays Mysaria and assures her safety. Why would sex with Daemon be the only way for Mysaria to ensure her loyalty to the team Blacks ? She literally hasn't seen Daemon in over 20 years I think. What would she care about him sexually or otherwise at this point, except perhaps for personal revenge ? And then, if Daemon really was with Mysaria to ensure her loyalty to his side... Well he's a bit much of an idiot if he really slept with Nettles after that. These people love to say that Daemon is a great master manipulator who places his pawns well in advance, especially when it comes to women, except that... Daemon does not seem to have been very intelligent if we follow this belief that I have already seen among antis, which is once again inconsistent with the speech Daemon was a master manipulator of women... I mean, according to their point of view, Daemon knew how to pretend for 10 years with Rhaenyra. Why couldn't he have lasted longer to play the charade with Mysaria ? Once again, the consistency of their words does not interest the antis. They only care about saying bad things about Daemon !)

And don't come for talk to me about Nettles, because I've already made some rather long posts on the subject, go see them if you want :

As well as I highly recommend the extremely in-depth analyzes of @horizon-verizon.

Basically, the story with Nettles could never be proven, and I personally don't believe it.

On the other hand, Aegon II is a character who could be described as a pedophile (by Westeros standards and ours) in Fire and Blood, having been with a girl (= child for Westeros. There is no adolescence in this society. Only childhood and adulthood. As a girl and not a maiden, a woman having her period and therefore marriageable, the individual with whom Aegon II was therefore indeed a child), and not a maiden, from precisely 11 / 12... And he's being also reported as having several inappropriate behaviors / touching towards women, strongly insinuating that he is a rapist (by the own maesters being on his side). And no, Eustace never denied the girl's age, and continued even though he referred to her as girl and tried to downplay the scandalous event.

And why am I talking about Aegon II fans ?

Because it's systematically them who come to me to tell me the bullshit about Daemon being a groomer and a pedophile while sometimes maintaining that their little favorite is not a rapist, and a potential pedophile.

Which is still pretty damn cheeky...

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daceydeath · 1 day

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Cigarettes & Cliches Part 9

Pairing: Bad Boy Felix x Reader Word Count: 4.2K Genre: Collage AU, Slow Burn Romance Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Mentions of Emotional Abuse, Mentions of SA,

He was the most impractical guy for you to be interested in, the incredibly handsome cliché bad boy who collected girls like trophies. As hard as you wanted to hate him his persistence and hidden softer side just could be your undoing.

You still hadn’t answered Felix, you knew you should have but you couldn’t until you knew what the conversation between your roommates had truly been about and why it related to you and Felix. Your guilty conscience was weighing heavy on you as you walked into work you picked up your apron, slipping it over your head and remembering how Felix had once called it stupid. Greeting your coworkers as you stepped behind the coffee machine to do a quick clean before you started for the afternoon. You had already spied Changbin and Han sitting in the corner deep in conversation so you left it until one of them came up to the counter or waved at you. Binna, your manager for the night came over and gave you a quick side hug to welcome you back and Hana who had been cleaning tables came over to say hello.

“There are quite a few cute boys in tonight” Hana gushed, placing the cloth she had been wiping down a table with on the counter.

“Really I have just got here I haven’t actually looked around yet” you giggled shaking your head at her.

“A couple of them were asking for you, specifically!” she lowered her voice conspiratorially.

“Uhuh” you rolled your eyes at her “wouldn’t happen to be my friends over there would it?” you asked, jutting your chin in the direction of Han and Changbin.

“How did you know? And are they ‘just friends’ of yours?” she countered raising her eyebrow at you.

“They are both single so knock yourself out Hana” you laughed properly at her as her face lit up, quickly returning behind the counter to serve a customer. Han waved at you when you looked back over to them, making you grin and wave back. Chan wandered into your view then sitting himself down opposite Han and smiling at you, his dimples on full display.

“Can I get you on service please? I’ll take over the coffee” Binna asked casually counting how many full tables there were in the cafe.

“Of course Binna” you nodded, picking up the slice of cake and brownie plates she had placed beside the machine.

“Table 6 please” she sighed, swiping to the current order to be made. You made your way to table 6 placing down the food and weaving your way back towards the counter to pick up the next order noting it was going to be a busy few hours. The guys waited for your break which you took grabbing an iced coffee and going over to sit with them.

“Having fun watching me wait tables?” you teased, plopping yourself down in the gap between Han and Changbin.

“I’ll have you know we’re on an important job scoping out the place for people who have a grudge against you” Han defended goofily.

“And what have you found?” you laughed

“Nothing except that your coworker thinks Changbin is cute and that you seem to sell a lot of brownies and lattes” Chan chimed in, making Chagbin’s face turn pink.

“That’s Hana and I can confirm she does” you giggled “I told you everything was fine it was only an empty threat anyway”.

“It still can’t hurt to make sure you’re alright” Changbin shrugged.

“What have you guys got on for the rest of the week?” you pried looking at each of them expectantly.

“Party tomorrow night, we thought we could have dinner another night this week if you want to” Han explained “Should probably do a little bit of course work at some point too”.

“Yeah dinner sounds good. Which night are you the least busy?” you enquired sipping your drink.

“Maybe Wednesday? Depends how things end up after tomorrow but we can let you know” Chan replied “I’ll give your number to these two idiots so we can sort the details out”. You nodded not needing to say anything over the squawked protest from the other two.

“I wanted to ask you guys something actually” You started which made them all turn to you “What can you tell me about the girl who used to live with Seung and Innie?”. They shared a quick look between each other before they silently agreed amongst themselves to let Chan answer.

“Her name is Yoona and she is currently studying abroad. She got into a masters program but I can’t remember which university” Chan explained “Why are you asking?”.

“Seung and Innie were talking about her last night in the car, they made it sound like something had happened to her before she left, I was just curious that's all” you shrugged trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

“Right well, she was really sweet and smart so I guess you two are similar that way” Chan smiled tightly which gave away the fact he was hiding something from you.

“So what did Hyunjin do to Yoona exactly then?” you pushed lightly raising your eyebrows at them, if they were going to try to hide things from you, you may as well lay your cards on the table so they knew they couldn’t sweep it under the rug.

“Seung and Innie kept Yoona hidden from us to begin with too, like they did with you” Han admitted guiltily “not because they didn’t trust us but because Yoona was so private they didn’t feel like they knew her well enough to just have her hang out with us all”.

“We all met eventually though” Changbin interjected “She partied way more than you and she was out a lot”.

“Anway” Han continued, looking at Changbin dryly “After a while she met Hyunjin and he thought he was in love with her, she had no interest in him and he hated that. He chased her for a while and eventually she gave in and they hooked up” Han finished taking a long sip from his coffee.

“That’s it? She was the girlfriend that he didn’t cheat on? That's the great big secret?” You frowned even more confused as to what this had to do with you and Felix.

“Oh no” Chan corrected “Because it had taken him months to win her over she had begun to fall for him, he had treated her like she had hung the moon, she was his princess so when she agreed to start dating him he pretty much hit it then quit it. It broke her heart”.

“But you said Hyunjin loved her?” you blinked still not putting all the pieces together.

“Hyunjin wasn’t in love with her, he was a bit obsessed with her because she was immune to him, it was all lust and him enjoying the chase” Chan sighed looking at you seriously.

“So that is why Seung and Innie don’t really trust Minho, Hyunjin and Felix around me? Because they think I’m going to fall into the same trap?” you summarized slowly.

“Pretty much, she only applied for the masters program abroad to escape how shitty she was left feeling” Changbin nodded.

“That’s fucked up” you muttered.

“Yep, but that is the man whores for you. They are great friends, but none of us would trust them with any of the women in our lives” Han agreed. You sat in silence for a moment until the alarm on your phone went off announcing that your break was over.

“I still don’t get why she has been kept a big secret” you sigh, going back to the counter not witnessing the look the three friends share between themselves.

Figuring it was all dumb you quickly texted Felix that you would call him after work and got back to the second part of your shift. After another hour Chan, Han and Changbin left much to Hana’s disappointment but you promised to give her number to Changbin when you next saw him which cheered her right up immediately. Exactly ten minutes before the end of your shift you looked up to see Felix walking into the cafe and took a seat by the door, his eyes trained only on you, winking when he saw you looking at him which made you blush. Pulling off your apron and saying goodbye to the others you walked towards the door letting Felix open it for you and follow you out into the night.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer you last night Lix” you apologized as soon as it was you the two of you on the street.

“Don’t be baby, I know you were overthinking so I wasn’t going to push you” he smiled softly taking your hand in his and kissing your fingers.

“I wanted to ask you about Yoona” you turned your head to look at him “Seung and Innie keep comparing me to her and I don’t know why”.

“Of course they fucking do” Felix grimaced letting out a deep breath “Did you have anywhere you needed to be right now or do you have time to talk?”. The trepidation in his voice was concerning to you but you needed to know the truth that was obviously still being hidden from you.

“I’ve got time Lix” you squeezed his hand soothingly making him nod before hailing a cab and opening the door for you to get in.

“Where are we going?” you asked softly.

“My place, the others are out so we can talk about the whole thing” he replied, giving the address to the driver and wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you took off. The drive was silent but it was only five minutes until you were at Felix’s apartment building his arm around your waist as he walked you inside. You sat on the couch Felix sat himself across from you looking more serious than you expected from a guy who hadn’t been the one to cause Yoona any drama.

“Alright, I’ll explain this the best I can but if you could just wait until the end before you judge us all and never want to see me again” he sighed looking saddened about what he was about to divulge to you “Yoona was the roommate before you that lived with Seungmin and Jeongin, she was another super smart women who was breezing through her courses easily just like you do. Unlike you she liked to party a fair bit and was a little more trouble than Seungmin or Jeongin ever knew, she hadn’t really been to any of the parties we did. She was more into nightclubs but when she did go to parties she was always noticeable. She is a pretty girl, not beautiful like you, but still attractive” Felix took a deep breath and continued “Eventually we met her, she wasn’t interested in any of us which is cool whatever at that point in time none of us had any problems finding other girls to spend our time with but Hyunjin, he ended up obsessed with her. He had a girlfriend at the time as was nowhere near as big a fuck boy as he is now but he broke up with his girlfriend so he could chase Yoona. She blew him off for six maybe seven months which only made him worse until finally after he had been sending her flowers, chocolates and little gifts for weeks on end she gave in and said she would give him a shot”.

“That’s what Chan said and I didn’t get why that was such a big deal” you interrupted feeling perplexed at the idea of you and Yoona being similar again.

“It gets worse” Felix frowned looking at you for another moment before continuing “Yoona made Hyunjin wait at least a couple of dates before she would sleep him and in the couple of weeks that took he lovebombed her hard, she probably felt like she was his queen and that he was willing to do anything for her, when she did finally let him fuck her Hyunjin was like an addict he couldn’t get enough of her. They were shacked up here for weeks at a time going at it like rabbits. Minho and I almost had to move out just so we could get some fucking sleep. But after maybe two months it crashed down when they had a reality check, Yoona thought she had gotten pregnant, she hadn’t but not the point, Hyunjin freaked out and just about threw her out of the apartment forcing her back to your place. After a trip to the doctor she discovered she wasn’t pregnant but it had scared Hyunjin so much he ghosted her, she was shattered he had convinced her that she was in love with him, that they were meant to be together and then he just disappeared from her life. She started partying even harder than hitting nightclubs every night and eventually drank way too much, and got into trouble, she ended up being dropped off at the hospital by some unknown guy, turns out he had assaulted her then took her there when she wouldn’t wake up. She had a bad reaction to the alcohol and the drug he had slipped her so she was there for a week. She decided to apply for a scholarship outside of the country so she could escape everything”. Felix took another deep breath looking directly into your eyes. You could see the sadness and the disappointment that swirled in them whether it was about what had happened to Yoona or what he thought was about to happen with you but it made your heart hurt for both him and Yoona.

“So Yoona left the country because Hyunjin broke her heart and then some random guy assaulted her which destroyed her spirit while she was drowning her sorrows” you echoed his story back to him to ensure you got it correct.

“Yes and I promise that is not what will happen with us. I would never do that to you” Felix swore emphatically.

“I know you’re not going to do that to me Lix” you assured him, he had always told you the truth and had twice stopped himself when he thought he was going to go too far with you. He was careful with you and you knew that he wouldn’t be as careful if it was just about sex to him. “I’m nothing like Yoona though, why do Seung and Innie compare me to her?” you continued, frowning.

“Seung and Innie don’t know she was attacked, they know she was in hospital for alcohol poisoning but the rest only came out when she wrote a letter to Hyunjin after she left”. Felix explained. “Hyunjin showed us the letter so Minho and I know the others might have guessed but only the three of us know the full story”.

“Did Hyunjin blame himself?” you asked, albeit reluctantly not wanting to push too hard about his close friend.

“He still blames himself, he hasn’t been serious about anyone since and I don't think he will for a long time yet. He knows how much of an absolute dickhead he was”. Felix smiled sadly, getting up from the couch and moving over to sit beside you, taking your hand in his again.

“So if you don’t want us to be public knowledge yet I understand and I respect it”. Felix whispered, his voice hopeful.

Turning yourself so you could swing your legs up over his lap you studied him for a moment. His hair was messy now he had run his hand through it a dozen times as he told you about Yoona, and his eyes were still shone with worry that he was trying to hide that from you.

“I would like to be your girlfriend Lix, if you are sure you want me” you confessed feeling your cheeks heat up as the words left your mouth. His grin was breathtaking, lighting up his whole face as he easily flipped his position to lay you back against the couch with legs slotting between yours. He claimed your mouth lovingly, his soft plump lips sliding against yours as you opened your lips to welcome his tongue with your own. His kisses grew deeper and more precise, his hands trailing down your sides giving you goosebumps as they slid beneath your top to squeeze your bare waist.

“You are perfect baby” he murmured against your lips cautiously rolling his hips against yours making your eyes widen and a small gasp to leave your lips. You felt the corners of his lips curl into a smile against yours at your reaction to him. “So beautiful and all mine”.

Your lips met his again for a moment only to be interrupted by your phone ringing in your bag next to the couch. Felix dropped his head to your shoulder for a moment cursing it almost inaudibly before reaching into your bag and handing it to you.

“Hey, where are you? You’re always home by now, did you get held up?” Seungmin’s voice sounded vaguely worried.

“Hi Seung, I'm on my way. I just ran into someone from class and we got chatting. I'll be home soon, sorry to worry you both” you laughed quietly as Felix got off you screwing up his nose at your mutual friends terrible timing.

“I’ll get you an uber baby” Felix chuckled, getting out his phone and ordering one for you “Let go downstairs to wait so we can get you back to the two concerned pains in my arse”.

You giggled letting Felix wrap you up in his arms as he continued grumbling about not getting to have you to himself for even fifteen minutes, occasionally pressing his lips to your neck and making you shiver against him.

“When can I see you again to make up for it Felix?” you tilted your head towards him.

“I’ll text you later when I find out what my two morons are doing and you know what your idiots are doing” he smirked as the uber pulled up. “Get home safe baby” he kissed you chastely, helping you into the car and waiting until you were out of sight to go back inside.

Walking into your apartment you couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face when you heard the violent flap of a tea towel mixed with the faint smell of burnt food. Shaking your head you slipped out of your shoes and made your way to the kitchen to predictably find Jeongin waving the makeshift fan under the smoke alarm as Seungmin pulled a tray of burnt edge garlic bread laughing loudly.

“Hey you can’t blame me this time” Jeognin complained loudly “You’re the one that burnt the garlic bread, I just smelt the burning”.

“I’m so glad that no one was worried for my safety, it was more of a concern that you would starve without me” you teased, alerting them to your presence.

“It was a mix of both, if you went missing I would have to eat his cooking more often” Seungmin continued laughing as you went around to the lounge side of the kitchen bench.

“Innie’s cooking isn't that bad Seung '' you scoffed looking at how cute Jeongin’s offended face actually was. Seungmin stuck his tongue out childishly at Jeongin as you watched him lift the lid of the pasta that he was cooking.

“Are you ready to eat?” he asked, turning to you, bowl in hand.

“Yeah let me wash up while you serve, I'll be back in a second” you couldn't help chuckle at your two roommates, they were constantly bickering like a married couple but would be lost without each other. You quickly went to the bathroom washing your hands and changing out of your clothes into more comfortable sweats so you could lounge around eating dinner in front of the TV with them. Making your way over to the couch you were handed a bowl of pasta and flopped down against one on the couch arms tucking your bare feet under Jeongin’s legs while Seungmin flipped through the channels to find something to watch settling on a variety show that was usually funny. While you ate your phone buzzed in your pocket which you checked while Jeongin was making fun of something one of the guests on the show had just done.

Baby, tell Seung and Innie if you are ready I’ve told Hyunjin and Minho but they will keep quiet under threat of death if you aren't ready today xx

You were sure you must have made an amused and exasperated face because Seungmin raised his eyebrows at you and Jeogin started poking your legs to see if you were still paying attention to what he had been saying.

“What’s happened? Seungmin asked, looking concerned as he put his bowl down on the floor next to the couch.

“I have something I want to tell you and I'm worried I will lose my nerve if I wait”. You swallowed, taking a deep breath in.

“Alright, what is so serious that you have to tell us now?” Jeongin asked “Oh god are you being taken out of school by your parents? Did you lose your job?”.

“It isn't that serious and besides you already kind of know” you admitted looking over at Seungmin who looked like he understood but wasn't thrilled.

“You’re interested in Felix” he stated with no hint of question in his voice “We know he’s interested in you”.

“Close” you nodded pursing your lips “I’m dating Felix, well I’ve been on a date with Felix. I’m the girl who you think is too foolish to know she’s being led on”.

“Shit” Seungmin muttered realizing that you had heard the entire conversation that he and Jeongin had, had in the car.

“Well fuck” Jeongin echoed sounding equally surprised “When did this happen?”.

“Well I went on a date with him the night before we went to Chan’s for pizza, the hoodie I was wearing was his” you flushed when you saw their eyes widen in tandem “I knew you were going to that party so we went out after you left to see a movie. But it started before the University handed down their findings on Nali, the day he dropped in with pastries was the first time he told me he was interested”.

“So you hid it since then?” Seungmin frowned “Why?”.

“Because you guys were being so judgemental about him, Minho and Hyunjin, I was frightened you would kick me out or not want to be friends with me any longer. Then there were a couple of times that Yoona was brought up which seemed hard on you so I didn’t push”. You explained looking at the floor.

“So you know about Yoona?” Jeongin sighed softly.

“Yeah I asked Chan earlier today then when Felix came to pick me up from work I asked him too”. You confessed “I had thought she was the girlfriend that Seung had mentioned to me. I didn't realize that she had been so hurt she felt like she needed to move away”.

“It wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault she moved away, at least not totally” Jeongin interrupted, looking uneasy.

“I know, Felix explained it all to me and told me that we could stop seeing each other if I didn’t trust him to not do the same to me” you continued “But Hyunjin and Minho have figured out that it was Felix’s hoodie so instead of letting them have fun giving everyone clues I thought it would be better to just tell you both”.

“Have you…um?” Seungmin started before stopping himself from finishing his question.

“No Seung, I’m a little harder to win over than a single date” you smirked watching relief cross his face.

“So you have tamed him then?” Jeongin cackled “He would never wait that long if it was just about sex”.

“Eww Innie” you screwed your face up “Can we not discuss my boyfriend's previous sexcapades? Please?”.

“Boyfriend. Well that’s fucking odd” Seungmin laughed “Poor Changbin is going to be crushed, he was sure you would give him a chance”. Jeongin joined in his laughter before pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing Felix.

“Don’t say anything” he smirked at you, covering his lips with his finger to shush you while he put the call on speaker.

“Innie, what’s up?” Felix answered, sounding like his normal self.

“Felix you absolute fucker” Jeongin snapped, the gin on his face making it hard for him to sound completely angry. “We told you to stay away from her, especially after the whole Nali thing”.

“Ah, umm… I guess she told you then. I know you warned me but she’s worth the risk Innie and I don’t care if you and Seung hate me for it, she’s too important to me to give up” Felix replied genuinely making your heart beat speed up.

“Eww, she’s making heart eyes at the phone now” Seungmin announced, making fake gagging noises.

“Hi Baby” Felix laughed, making Jeongin cringe.

“Hey Lixie” you smiled back hearing much louder laughter coming from the background of his phone “Hi Hyunjin, Hi Minho”.

“Look everything is fine as long as I don’t have to walk in on you two fucking on my couch” Seungmin rolled his eyes.

“Like I’d let you see me naked” You grumbled making all of them laugh.

“You tell him baby” Felix whooped making you blush from your neck all the way to your ears.

“That’s enough of that” Jeongin interjected “You better not fuck this up Felix” he added seriously while looking at you fondly. “She’s important to all of us now, not just you”. He hung the call up before Felix could reply, meeting your eyes.

“I guess it could have been worse” Seungmin shrugged, making you look at him quizzically “I mean it could have been Hyunjin”.

A/N: Thank you so much for spending you time reading this I adore you for it and thank you for all the likes, reblogs, comments and support you have given me it means the world to me xx

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