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#they all just hate her so in their defense she fall in love with a hero because the curse made her to. but it's not.
kentopedia · 3 months
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nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.
so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.
still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.
the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.
he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.
because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.
it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.
naturally, no one came back twice.
he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.
though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.
by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.
by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.
on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.
he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.
“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”
“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“
but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.
“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”
a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”
though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.
“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“
“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”
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inkskinned · 3 months
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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
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maxtermind · 15 days
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absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff
I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye
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★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)
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( part 1 )
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Max Verstappen
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You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.
After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.
A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.
“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.
You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.
“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.
“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.
"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."
You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.
“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.
Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."
You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.
“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.
"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."
Lewis Hamilton
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The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.
Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.
He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.
Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.
He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.
Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.
How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?
But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-
The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing? 
"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.
His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. 
"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."
You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.
Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."
You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."
You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace. 
"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."
"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.
"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.
“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”
Carlos Sainz
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As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.
For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.
In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.
Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.
How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.
You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like…"
Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"
You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.
Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.
You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.
Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them. 
Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.
Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.
"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."
His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.
"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."
Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."
As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.
In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.
And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.
Charles Leclerc
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Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.
"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"
Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while." 
You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."
You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."
You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"
Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."
You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.
"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."
Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.
You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.
You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.
It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.
"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.
Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.
"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.
Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.
Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."
You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"
Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her." 
"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."
You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"
Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."
He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.
Lando Norris
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As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.
Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.
Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.
"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.
You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.
"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.
He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."
His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.
"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.
Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.
"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.
"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."
His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.
With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."
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©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
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vivalabunbun · 4 months
Text
An Encore of Betrayal
Summary: The devil with no sin nor memory and he who has held them all for centuries.
Word Count: 21.8k (get cozy)
Tags: Neuvillette x Fem!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic, SMUT, NSFW, Historical AU, Fantasy AU?, Reincarnation AU, cursed!neuvillette, dragon!neuvillette, reincarnated!Reader, human!reader, Fluff, a lot of fluff, Melusines doing their best to play cupid, ex-lovers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers? ANGST, he's trying his best, dragon x human dynamics, Monsterfucking (two... I have no defense), cunnilingus(long tongue), marking, size kink? breeding kink, heat, overstimulation, hate sex? kinda?, slightly unhealthy dynamics (past life), dubcon, trust issues, immortal x mortal, slightly possessive!neuvillette, slightly yandere!neuvillette, TW: mild mention of blood, TW: descriptions of drowning, sin, and sacrifice. TW: Trauma from betrayal, themes of resentment, Infertility.
Author's Note: Wanted to try out a historical fantasy from Neuvillette's pov. I struggle with fantastical settings, so overlook any world-building confusion. Mihoyo won't give me his real name, and it's eating away at my sanity. Enjoy!
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Somewhere deep beneath the waves, away from the omnipotent watch of false divinity, lies a village. A bustling home carved into an outcast cove nestled under the cover of suppressive tides.
One littered with tiny houses surrounding an impressive estate modeled much like the ones seen in those novels abandoned from capsized ships. 
Would you believe that such a place exists? 
Decorated with curious trinkets which sunk beneath the surface which had forsaken them, kept in this cove for so long that it was challenging to remember the azure hues. 
Ornaments decorating the expanse of this once lonesome cave, almost enough to conceal its true origin: A prison.
A fool sentenced to this penitentiary masquerading as a home, now affectionately named ‘Merusea Village’. 
Within that attentively built estate, a looming figure stood in front of a wall lined with neatly organized novels, lilac eyes running along the titles printed along each spine. 
A collection saved from watery abandonment after falling overboard by the curious hands of Melusines. Amassed throughout the years until the shelves of this humble library were without vacancy. 
Stopping a finger on a spine, he decided on the novel to pass the ever-plenty time bestowed upon him. He’s aware that each book amongst these shelves has been thumbed through by him.
But with enough years, the recollection of the contents contained within each one tends to become foggy. 
It's fate that the novel selected in his hands just so happens to be a collection of tales.
Humans have many strange behaviors, one might even call them traditions. One particular tradition mortals seem to indulge in often is that of storytelling. 
Lilac eyes browse through the pages, refreshing himself on the tale held within its faded covers. 
----------
There once was a lovely kingdom amidst lush pastures and fertile lands where the townspeople sang and danced under the bright sunlight.
But one day the sun disappeared, concealed behind ashen clouds that cried a lonesome hymn, plaguing the unfortunate kingdom with rain.
The origin of the rain stemmed from the lonesomeness of a great dragon of water.
Thus, to stop the rain, the king sent out a princess to the dragon, declaring that the kingdom gates wouldn’t welcome her back if rain fell from the sky. She was sent off in a white gown. 
Down below a flooded loch, the princess was offered to the weeping dragon. Looking up the princess saw the sorrowful pools in the beast’s eyes. 
‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, why do you cry?’ She asked.
Intrigued by the bravery of the young princess, the dragon answered: ‘Because I am lonely, I have no brethren left.’
Feeling pity the princess responded: ‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, don’t cry. I will be lonely with you.’ 
So the princess befriended a lonesome dragon under the hymn of softening rain, with his loneliness soothed, the sun peeked back out from ashen clouds. But one day, pitiful tears fell from her eyes and the princess wept so bitterly. 
The dragon could not bear seeing those tears stain her cheeks. He offered her pearls, jewels, and gold. Yet those bitter tears still fell, tainting the pristine water. 
‘Beloved princess, why do you cry so bitterly?’ He implored. 
‘I long to go home, I miss my kingdom,’ she revealed. 
But she could not go home, for if she stepped foot away from the riverside the lonesome rain would start again. The colossal dragon could not leave the loch, but he could not bear seeing those bitter tears.
So he relented, telling the princess a secret. A secret all dragons buried deep within: His true name. 
‘If you speak my name, my true name, then I can grant you one wish. But be careful, for there can only be one wish.’ The dragon whispered. 
‘Do you wish to return to your kingdom, beloved princess?’ He asked. 
The princess was silent for a long while, weighing the choices in her hand. She longed to return home, but she also longed to be by the side of her kind dragon. 
Confident in her decision, she beckons the great dragon closer, until her lips could reach the side of his large head where his ear lay. After whispering his name, she tells the beast her wish. 
‘I wish for you to become my prince, so we can return to the kingdom together, that way you won’t ever be lonely again.’
A clever wish he grants with a nod. Scales and claws shedding away until a handsome prince stood in front of her. Thus, hand in hand they returned from the loch to the warm welcome of the kingdom. 
And they lived happily ever after. 
----------
Ah, so it was that tale. 
Judging from the age of the novel, he guesses it must be a rendition of a rendition.
Words and events twisted, embellished, and simplified. Until it became nothing more than a mere fable told to entertain the wandering minds of children. 
A beloved tale of a maiden who got a dragon to give up his grand authority, stopping the flood of vengeance from drowning Fontaine.
This is what the origin of his damnation has turned into. The tales of the heroine’s feats sung and written throughout the narrative of time, passing from one generation’s lips to another’s ears. 
However, he supposes this is expected of humans. It’s their tradition of storytelling, after all, mending a fallacy into a tale palatable to their conscious.
Or perhaps, these embellishments were added to compensate for the hollows caused by the frailty of mortal memory. 
Patching over the holes with flowery words to distract readers from inaccuracies that were only compounded upon from the last. 
Fontainians who came to believe in it, must not have known the dragon all that well, considering that they thought the proud dragon would bow to the whims of a meek human.
Placing a secret so simply in her hands at the mere sight of tears.
Did Fontainians not realize that the land they reside on once belonged solely to dragons? How preposterous it is that a sovereign couldn’t set foot upon his own land. Or did they forget why he couldn’t? 
What a naive ending, did mortals truly believe that blood and water could dwell together without consequences? That simply wishing the dragon to become a human could resolve all troubles?
To overwrite everything with a ‘happily ever after’ which never happened?
Regardless of his reservations toward such fables, the Melusines always seem eager to gather around for such stories. The towering figure lacked the conviction to deny such requests. 
From down the hall approaching closer came the pitter-patter of steps, he turned his tall frame toward the direction of the sound just as a few familiar faces revealed themselves from the library entrance. 
“Monsieur Neuvillette! Come quickly! A human! A human appeared!” A group of Melusines tugs on the fabric of his slacks while pointing toward the phenomenon. 
A mortal in this domain? A cavern hidden deep under the land and waters where the warmth of the sun couldn’t grace. How did such a being find their way into this sanctum?  It’d be best that he alleviates their worries. 
“Please lead the way.” Neuvillette closes the novel, returning it to the confines of its shelf. 
His swift movements in time with the melusines’ frantic patter as they made their way out from his estate.
Soon the tops of the Melusines’ cozy homes of Merusea Village came into view, as did the murmuring of a distraught crowd. 
“Excuse me.” His steps made their presence known, their heads perked up to look at him before parting a path for Neuvillette. 
Upon the maroon pasture of Merusea Village was a blanket of silk and woven lace, snowy fabric surrounding the still figure of a human.
Treading closer Neuvillette kneels down while reaching out a hand, weaving his fingers under the fabric which obscures the mortal’s face. 
“We found her while gathering offerings from the waters … Is she…” The anxious murmuring quiets to await his verdict. 
“She has a pulse,” he reveals, fingertips detecting wisps of warmth along cold skin. 
It was faint, but his attentive eyes caught onto the slow movement of her chest. The snowy fabric had greedily drunk up the essence of the sea. Cursing her to sink deeper below the tides. 
To leave a mortal in such a state would be too cruel of a fate. 
Neuvillette moves his hand to support her covered head as his other arm gathers the damp fabric under her legs.
Carefully, he stands back to his full height, cradling her limp body in his hold. An audience of fretful gazes follow his motions.
“Do not fret, she only requires some rest and a change of clothing, I’ll take her to my abode. Could you gather some cloth to dry down her body?” Neuvillette’s melodic voice just barely above a whisper, so as not to stir the figure in his arms.
His expression softens to offer the compassionate creatures some reassurance. With firm nods the Melusines scatter, determination alight in their bright irises as they sought the necessary items to care for their newfound guest. 
The dampness of the heavy fabric seeps into his own attire as Neuvillette turns the knob to grant him entry into his abode. 
Quietly ambling through the spacious halls, the master bedroom came into view. Neuvillette lays the limp form upon his sheets, ensuring that her head rests slowly upon the soft pillows. 
Just as her figure sinks into the mattress, a chorus of metallic clinks catches his attention. Glancing down her body his lilac eyes discover the origin.
A pair of silver shackles encased around her ankles, the unforgiving metal digging into defenseless flesh. 
Gingerly, he takes one ankle into his grasp to better observe the shackles.
This time he couldn’t fight against the deep frown as it debuted upon his lips. His eyes hone on how tightly those heavy chains were bound along the flesh. 
Soon the unforgiving metal crashes down to the floor, he soothes the freed skin with his thumb while checking for any other possible wounds. 
Lilac eyes travel up to her face for any sign of discomfort, only to be reminded that her face was concealed behind a shroud of lace. 
How uncomfortable it must be to have a cold piece of fabric to cover one’s face. Neuvillette places her ankle back onto the bed.
His large hands took hold of the damp veil to lift it from her resting frame, revealing to his draconic eyes for the first time their face. 
The veil stays suspended in the air as his hands cease all motion. Hardened gaze tracing over her features, the curve of her cheeks, the slope of her nose, and the structure of her face.
Repeated details he had long seared into his consciousness. 
Within those mortal tales, there’s a wide variety of beasts and fearsome creatures. Dragons were depicted as such omnipotent beasts. But there’s a monster all other beast falls secondary to, the devil. 
They didn’t possess the sharpest talons nor the largest fangs. No, what made them so horrifying is that they dawned the most enchanting faces. 
He’s staring at it right now. The face of the devil who deceived him. 
Those gods must be laughing at him right now. Those false idols, with their capricious fate and whims, who once must’ve shook hands with you to carry out their schemes all those years ago. 
The scheme which imprisons him here in this humiliating form of the mortal creatures those false idols loved so much. 
Yes, a devil, that must be what you are. For how did a meek mortal trick a dragon who once held the full authority of the tides?
His chest expands with a deep breath before a long exhale leaves him. Ah, yes that must be why this white gown has appeared before him again. He removes the senseless scrap of lace, checking once more for signs of discomfort before he turns his body away. 
Finding himself outside the threshold of his bedroom as he closes the door behind him. He should wait here for the Melusines to arrive with a change of clothes and towels. 
It’d buy him enough time to steadily return the tempestuous loch to a subdued ripple in a pond. His chest expands once more with a deep inhale. 
A second cruel rendition unfolding once more in the narrative of time.  
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The crisp turn of a page resounds through the room. Lilac eyes glanced up from the text every so often to watch the steady rises and falls of your chest from his vantage point of a wooden chair pulled up to the bedside. 
Heavy lashes still shut just as they were the day your drenched figure was pulled from the tides by merciful hands. 
The journey to wisdom is lined with mistakes, mistakes providing teachings one must ingrain into their very being if they don’t wish to repeat such blunders again.
Just as how a burn seared into skin is a forever reminder that fire indeed burns indiscriminately. 
A scar ingrained deep within him cries out for Neuvillette to withdraw from the fire which scorned him so long ago. 
Alas, it’s duty which has sat him down beside your sleeping form. You’re the first guest this cove has seen in a long time, thus bringing you under the responsibility of the host, Neuvillette himself. 
A stir brings his stoic gaze back away from his thoughts. Your chest rises with a long inhale as leaden lashes flutter open.
The cadence of your breaths begins to rise as more of your senses return to you. Fatigue evident in each slow drag of breath. 
“Ah, I see you’ve awoken.” Neuvillette observes. 
Your muscles momentarily forget their fatigue as your head snaps toward the owner of the deep voice. Eyes now wide and alert. 
“My apologies, it wasn’t my intention to startle you.” He casts a glance toward the steaming bowl on the nightstand. 
He could feel the weight of your stare travels up his figure. Do you perhaps remember him? Can you recall his lush snowy locks streaked with azure? Irises that held an all too familiar hue, a multitude of lilac shades much like a field of lavenders.
Does this ‘you’ remember the dragon you fooled? 
“W-who are you?...” Your gaze was too cowardly to meet his.
Ah, have the cycle of death and rebirth washed those sins and memories?
The tonality of your trembling voice filled with puzzlement instead of recognition. He should’ve expected this much.
This you is nothing more than a stranger who shares the face of a devil. 
“Where am I?” Another question leaves those lips in the absence of a response. 
Just give him a moment, allow him to pacify the surging torrent within so their bitterness doesn’t seep into his words. 
“You’re in our village!” A cheery voice joins the conversation. 
Two pairs of eyes land upon a short figure with a pair of pastel horns. You blink once, then twice, then slowly thrice. Inquisitive eyes stared right back at you. 
“W-what… are you?” Instinct commanding your body to retract deeper into the sheets. 
A sharp cough halts your actions, drawing your attention back to the man as he lowers his hand down from his lips. 
“She’s a Melusine, they prefer to be addressed using she/her pronouns,” he elucidates, an ever so subtle chastise in his tone. 
“Oh…” You advert your gaze again, shame creeping onto your cheeks from your unintentional discourtesy. 
A few breaths of silence follow, he observes you studying everything but the two figures just beside the bed.
Your fingers soothing over the soft cotton nightgown against your skin, a change from that restrictive and ornate dress. 
“We, Melusines, helped you change out of that wet dress. Big sister Sedene said you’d get sick if we left you in that.” 
It looks like your diverted gaze wasn’t as subtle as you originally thought. Sheepishly you extend your gratitude. 
“Thank you…” Your words draw out, a brow quirked as your stare reminded on her short form. 
“Kiara!” She points to herself with a mitten hand. 
“Thank you, Kiara.” You finish. 
Her mittened hand then gestures to the towering man beside her. 
“This is Monsieur Neuvillette! He’s the one who carried you here,” she announces. 
“T-thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You could only gather the courage to glance at the wall behind him. 
“Just Neuvillette is fine,” his tone melodic and calm. “Are you able to sit up?”
Nodding your head, you attempt to fight through the fatigue of your muscles. Neuvillette and Kirara offer their assistance, his firm hands guiding your body up as Kirara adjusts the pillows to support your back. 
Once you were situated, he reached for the bowl placed down earlier. A light clink sounds out from a spoon clattering about the porcelain dish. You glance at the contents, noting the clear amber broth. 
“This should be kind on your stomach while providing you with some much-needed hydration and nutrients.” He holds out the soup. 
A quivering hand attempts to reach up for the bowl, only for muscles to lose to fatigue as your arm limply falls back down to your side. Your strength has yet to return. 
Another clink from the spoon resounds in the room as it gets taken into the grasp of an attentive hand. He holds out a spoonful of the warm soup, but your lips remain shut as a skeptical gaze meets his. 
“Please forgive this inconvenience, but it’s best that you eat something to regain your strength.” The spoon remains unmoving in his hand. 
There’s a rumbling stir within him. A voice snarls into his ear, interrogating him as to why his hand is feeding the very devil who once bit it. 
“If you don’t eat you won’t get better.” Kiara’s eyes are riddled with concern as she observes your sealed lips. 
That was his rebuttal to that snarl.
The Melusines simply don’t wish to see a human in such a pitiful state. Blissful in their ignorance of events that conspired long before their birth. 
 Dignity overpowered by the guilt of seeing such pure eyes marred with worry. 
Soon your lips part, accepting the spoonful of broth delicately offered by him. After he observes you swallowing the first sip, Neuvillette holds out another spoonful. You part your lips again.
Neuvillette overrides the clamorous warnings of his instincts with the duty of being a ‘good host’, bringing another sip to your delicate lips.
 
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With a regular diet of warm broth with servings of Bulle Fruit on the side, you were soon able to pick up the spoon yourself. The fatigue that plagued your bones finally leaves, allowing you to support your body off the mattress which had your shape imprinted into it. 
The Melusines, seemingly born infatuated with humanity, would often gather about your bed.
They were curious about you just as you were about them. To them, you’re the creature from those fairytales he’s read them. 
In exchange for your recollections of warm Summer days and descriptions of lush lilac fields swaying in a gentle breeze, they reveal more about this village.
About how the estate you were currently residing in was refurbished by their own-mittened hands, taking inspiration from the various books depicting what human abodes looked like. 
The beds, drapes, and even rugs are all arranged by them to create a lovely abode. A drastic change to the worn and rampaged shell it once was before their meddling.
Perhaps if he never filled their naive minds with those tales, they wouldn’t be enamored with you and humanity. 
Or maybe it’s the vibrance of your smile that drew their naive souls closer. A warmth like a flickering candlelight beckoning a moth closer.
What are the odds that the hands of fate stayed so faithful to the details of a heroine from so long ago? 
From your image to your bewitching mannerisms, and alluring voice, they’re all identical replicas. You and the ‘devil’ from that tale. 
Wisdom from a lesson learned long ago, he must not repeat the same mistake. He must not be enchanted by the same flame which scorned him. He must ensure a breadth between you and him, just as those tiresome voices call for. 
However, Neuvillette understands he has a responsibility as a host. Thus, he regularly checked on your condition, then when you were well enough to stretch your legs he accompanied you on strolls. Maintaining a respectable distance away. 
He guided you through the marble halls of the estate, showing the library and bath which were yours to access whenever you wanted.
Rooms illuminated with the muted glow of luminescence gems and pearls. Water sourced from a hidden freshwater spring. 
Impassive eyes observe yours as you look in awe at the facilities and commendations hidden deep under the tides. Were they comparable to the ones you’ve encountered back on the surface? 
This estate, these wide stone halls, those pearls and jewels once scattered about, were all made just to please the bitter tears of a mortal. Perhaps his first attempt was too subpar to quell the longing to return to the sunlight. 
But gauging from the glimmer reflecting off your eyes, it seems the Melusines attempt was satisfactory at least. 
Today’s stroll took you outside of the estate, Neuvillette accompanying you about a routine walk, watching from behind as your eyes scan the dim realm.
The lanterns lining the path of Melusine's home grace the maroon pastures and rocky walls in place of the faint wisps of sunlight offered by the depths of the sea. 
Very much expected for a village beneath the waves and earth. Were you reminiscing about the warm grace of the sun you felt up there?
It’s not fair to compare the vast sky of the surface to their cavern hidden away from the eyes of the mortals, perhaps even the divine themselves. 
“Monsieur Neuvillette?” You began today’s attempt at a conversation. 
“Yes?” He hums in acknowledgment. 
He keeps sentences brief, but informative. Counters to your attempts at conversation. 
“I’m aware this might sound strange, but is there a dragon down here?” Turning back to face him.
His strides stop as a lull of silence falls over the both of you. The weight of his unshaken gaze upon your shoulders caused them to tense up.
Your hands find each other for comfort under his oppressive stare as he awaits the reason behind this odd inquiry. 
“W-well you see, Fontaine has been having awful weather for years now. Saltwater running crops and persistent heavy rain, it’s because the Hydro Dragon is crying from his loneliness. I was selected and offered as his bride, to stop the rain, that’s what The Oratrice instructed,” you babble out. 
“So…do you know where he is?” Sheepishly you glance up. 
The lilac hues of his eyes connect with yours as his lips remain unmoving. Staring into your eyes as he contemplates what you have just revealed to him. Your hands fumble together as you await his response.
“So humans are still telling that local legend…” He sighs. 
He has to rein it back. The torrent which threatens to brew within him. Deep breaths to remind himself about the nature of mortals. 
Humans are fickle and meek creatures who constantly yearn for something divine to worship, a figurehead to guide them in the turbulence of life.
When faced with hardship and destitution, they believe such concepts to be punishment from above. 
Thus, they invent traditions to appease those false idols. Going to great lengths in attempts to pacify those unseen forces, even if it meant sacrificing one of their own. 
Perhaps this was the trait of mortals that made them so favored by the usurpers, their naive devotion feeding into the greed of selfish gods.
Maybe that’s why those false idols uprooted the land that belonged to dragons. 
“I wonder just how far that fable has spread by now,” he sighs again.
His lashes flutter shut in exasperation as a huff leaves him. It was a moment before they flutter back open to hone in on you. There’s no use in keeping his identity from you any longer. 
“Do I seem lonely in your eyes?” Baritone voice steady and low. 
No sounds fall from your agape lips as your eyes reexamine his features, this time shamelessly ogling the peculiar details you’ve brushed off previously.
Do you notice it now? How his ears were a bit too pointed, or those two particular cerulean strands of ‘hair’ poking out from his snowy locks. 
As you study the specifics of his eyes, do you now comprehend the sharp dark pupils that cut through the multitude of lilac shades? Much like a shadow cutting through a field of lavenders. 
“You’re the Hydro Dragon,” you deduce. 
He nods in confirmation. Only causing your eyes to scan over him again as your mind reels back from this revelation. 
In those stories you’ve read back on the surface, how did they depict him? As a towering scaled beast with fangs and claws? Are you wondering why he’s not matching that description? 
“I’m aware that my current shape might not convey such a presence, ” he answers your unspoken question. 
He fights for his lips to remain stoic, not allowing the weight of a frown to pull them down. You don’t know, you don’t need to know, he reminds himself. 
A detail excluded from the pages of that tale, the ‘princess’ would only ever look at him, would only ever smile at him when a dragon took on this shape. A form which mirrors humans. 
In fact, she was so fond of this human shell of his that she cursed him to dwell within it for the rest of eternity. 
Neuvillette takes another deep breath, quelling the stir once more. You look like you had more questions. 
“So… does that mean the need for a bride is fictitious?” You clutch your hands tighter. 
Some years ago, the Melusines were born from spilled blood. A new generation of successors of the brethren he once forsaken. Making this prison much less lonesome, voiding the accuracy of the sentence in that tale. 
If that was the case, then why did the waters still rage? Why did the pittering of rain drown out all bird songs and tumults of perplexed citizens? Is there a way he could simplify the details missed by storytellers for generations? 
After that ‘happily ever after’, a dragon cursed his devil just as she cursed him. 
No, such expositions would be an unfair burden upon your shoulders. 
“It’s not fictitious.” Turning to gaze out at the depths of the underground realm, he takes a breath before continuing. 
“The land which your nation, Fontaine, resides on is stolen land,” he reveals. “More accurately all of what you know as ‘Teyvat’ was stolen from the dragons, my fellow brethren.” 
The furrow in your brows deepens as you listen on. 
“My brethren were banished to the depths for the sake of humanity. A dragon’s rage isn’t something that can be easily quelled.” He glances back at you. 
“A union between a dragon and a human, a show of peace between the two species. Even if the origins of this ritual have been embellished heavily, it serves the same purpose to pacify the ancient dragon’s rage,” he concludes. 
Neuvillette wonders if this tale was enough to satisfy your inquiry, if his attempt at the human practice was enough to simplify the events muddled and twisted by time.
Impassive eyes scan over your expression, not missing the glimmer ever so bright within. 
“So… has the rain stopped?” Your hands almost clasped together in prayer. 
He nods, the shine growing ever so luminous in those blameless irises, one he couldn’t resist the enchantment of. That all too familiar look in your eyes. 
“That’s good.” A slow smile made its appearance upon plush lips.
Ah. He remembers what that look was called, voices of recollection pulling him away from the edge. Just before he fell into bewitchment once more.
That look wasn’t relief, nor was it salvation. It's duty. He takes a slow and deep inhale. 
Just as it was all those years ago, the narrative of this tale did not stray away from the plot. He must be more careful. 
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There’s been a still lull engulfing the atmosphere down in a hidden cavern. So still in fact that walks amongst maroon patches of grass have stopped. Your body was well enough to explore the corners of the state without assistance. 
No reason for him to remain by your side throughout the day, and no reason for you to shadow him. 
Neuvillette and you keeping mostly to one’s self. It was just the natural progression of things. After all, the ritual had been completed and the tides had receded. You’ve served your duty once more. 
A foreign aroma was wafting through the estate, strange enough for Neuvillette to leave the library to investigate the origins of this aroma.
Steps slowing as the clacker of pots and pans becomes more distinct. The entrance of the estate kitchen comes into view, and he peers in to see a few familiar faces. 
“Oh? Monsieur!” Rhemia notices his presence. 
An assortment of vegetables, spices, and even some meats from fresh catches were spread about the table as a pan sizzling over a crackling fire.
Ingredients gathered from offering dropped down below the tides. The recent influx could be attributed to how the hymn of the rain has ceased. 
“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette.” Your smile greets him. 
Ah, he’s found the explanation behind the foreign aroma and why the variety spread of ingredients was being utilized in a kitchen that was once mainly created just to match those diagrams drawn in novels. 
“I hope you don’t mind my use of the kitchen, I wanted something other than…Consomme Purete.” Wiping your hands with a rag. 
Yes, Consomme Purete.
It was the dish served when you had first woken up, a light but nutritious soup that was kind on your stomach. It had the right amount of hydration balanced with nutrients to sustain oneself, a perfect dish.
The only dish cooked in this kitchen, that was until today. 
Removing a pan from the heat, you carefully transfer the contents onto a plate then place the pan back on the wood stove.
The rich aroma caused an audience of bright-eyed stares from the Melusines to center upon the steaming plate. Their tails make their excitement clear as they gaze upon a dish they’ve never seen before. 
Was this a new passion of this life?... Or was it just one he never got the chance to witness?
Was this the devil before the role of a bride was forced upon her? A devil he’s never known, for all he saw was her performance to stop the deafening rain all those years ago.
His attention was brought back as the chime of cutlery against porcelain was heard, cooked veggies stabbed between the teeth of a fork.
Cupping a hand under the fork, your body leans down to the Melusine’s height, feeding them a bite of the fragrant dish. The wags of their tails increase in cadence as they chew. 
“This is Tasses Ragout, tasty isn’t it?” The corners of your lips curl as you watch their little heads nod eagerly. 
The suspicion melts from his gaze as he observes to the delight in their expressions, a few mitten hands tugging at the skirt of your gown for a bite. A giggle bubbles from your throat.
A scene mirroring that of a mother trying to appease the appetites of her ravenous young. 
Soon your eyes connect and he straightens his posture. Brushing away the nonsensical musing, lilac hue advert away momentarily to recompose themselves before returning. 
“Would you like a taste?” A fork offered in his direction, beckoning closer to take a bite. 
There’s a myth he’s read about, of a forbidden apple held out by the tempter of all tempters, an apple so red and lustrous it made any mouth salivate. 
“Thank you for the offer, however, I’ve already had my lunch.” He refrains. 
A bite from that forbidden fruit was the genesis of disgrace and banishment. A betrayal of commandments once promised. Neuvillette won’t be deceived again. 
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“Monsieur! Monsieur! Come look!” 
Mittened hands grasping upon his coat and gloved hands as a circle of Melusines guides him through the winding halls, anticipation amping their voices. 
There’s a chorus of giggles resounding through the halls, a joyous clamor of pattering steps against the marble floors.
The estate has been lively ever since your arrival in that white dress, a liveness which reaches his pointed ears even from behind closed doors. 
Regardless, he allows himself to be towed by their skipping steps. Leading him to a room he recognizes as a space where many fabrics and gowns were collected and stored.
Garments made with the intent to be sold to Fontainians, but their crates were capsized over by the ravenous tides. Saved from watery abandonment by curious hands. 
While this form of his could wear a few of those garments, the Melusines had statures much too short for pools of fabric to not drag along the ground. Thus, that collection of fabrics found themselves collecting dust. 
Their steps abruptly stop just at the threshold of the door, mittened hands pressed up against their lips signaling for him to remain silent.
Soon their sights glance into the room as he follows, lilac eyes opening ever so slightly wider as they process the scene in front of him. 
Evening gowns crafted by skilled tailors to be sold to Fontanian ladies, you had the right frame for those garments as well.
A trail of lustrous sapphire silk gathered behind your figure. The artistic stitching and pleating draping the silk around each curve of your body as if you were the only person meant to wear it. 
A few Melusines fussing about the silk train, ever so curious of humanity, they must’ve requested for you to dawn the gown.
Just as they often had requested for him to dawn those fickle suits and coats for their enjoyment.
It seems you bent to their childish whims just as he does. 
“How do you like it?” You ask your audience, twirling about in front of a mirror. 
It’s different from those hardier dresses for when you wandered about the village and estate, in comparison this dress was much less practical. 
“It’s beautiful, Madame!” Their round eyes were enamored.
“I’m glad, who knew you had such an aesthetic eye.” Your expression softens. 
Bending down to Carole’s height, you scooped her up. Cradling her as your forehead touches her horns gently.
“Thank you for such a lovely dress.” Placing tender pats along her head, careful to not disturb her horns and hair. 
Carole leans into your touch as your smile widens. Twirling once more with her in your arms, giggles ringing throughout the room.
Until your head peeked up, finally aware of the silent spectator just behind the door frame. 
“Oh, hello Neuvillette,” you greet him with a smile he doesn’t return.
A tense lull creeps in, and a chill begins to mix with the quiet atmosphere. Lilac eyes pass over your form as Carole remains sat in your arms.
“Monsieur! Isn’t Madame pretty? Look!” Cheery and oblivious voices chime returning the warmth to the air. 
Mitten hands release your skirt as they skitter toward his towering figure. Pride shines in their beaming smiles, awaiting validation of their handy work.
Steadfast eyes lowering themselves to the level of their short statures until the sharp edges gradually dissipate. 
“A fine effort indeed.” A gloved hand extends to rest atop their heads. 
Patting their heads tenderly as they closed their eyes in contentment 
A warmth in those lilac hues, endearment no word could ever encapsulate fully. 
“Are they your daughters?” Your head slants to the side.
His body stills, strictness reinstated in those violet irises just as they met yours. Studying that look within your polite smile, one which didn’t seem to reach your eyes. 
Gloved hand ceasing all movement, his concentration now elsewhere. That expression ghosting your face, what does it mean? 
“My apologies, was it too impudent of a question?” Your gaze adverts away, searching for reprieve in this heavy hush.
A deep breath as he formulates his response. 
“I don’t share blood with them if that’s what you’re inquiring. However, they are the successors of my brethren.” 
“Oh, I see,” you hum. 
 Neuvillette returns to patting their heads, while you readjust your hold on Carole. Subtly bouncing her, while turning back to face the standing mirror.
Casting a glance, he could discern the softness returning to that polite smile. Yet, the dragon has yet to unravel that luster in your irises. 
An audience of bright eyes switches between the Monsieur and Madame. 
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“Bring these to her, you should greet the Madame!” Tiny hands push against Neuvillette’s back. 
The traitorous clicks of his shoes against marble expose his approach.
Your head peers up from the book resting upon your lap, in the midst of reading a tale aloud to an audience. 
Just in time to catch the tall figure of Neuvillette emerging into the library at the behest of the Melusines. 
Lilac eyes meet yours ever so briefly before his gaze averts elsewhere. Gloved hand adjusting a bundle hidden a broad back, brings the other hand up to clear his throat. 
“The Melusines found these when retrieving some offerings from the water, I believe you’ll enjoy them.” He presents their trinket. 
A simple collection of dainty petals clustered together, pastel hues contrast against vivid virescent leaves. A quaint ribbon tied around the stems holding the bunch together held out in front of your face.
The recipient stares in round-eyed astonishment at the fragrant blooms before a smile melts into your lips. 
“Thank you.” You accept the bouquet from his hand. 
Admiring the rustic arrangement and the saccharine aroma as the Melusines sat around you leaned in closer to catch a whiff too. 
“These are called Pluie Lotus up on the surface, they smell nice right?” Giggling lightly as you held the bouquet closer to their noses. 
Grin ever present upon your lips as your soft eyes watch their marvel of such simple weeds. A bloom foreign to this realm abandoned by the sunlight. 
There’s subtle slack in his posture, a budding smile just about to unfold just as your head peers back up. Every fiber in Neuvillette’s being tenses, goosebumps slithering up his nape. 
Frozen there only able to witness your eyes study back and forth the hues of his irises and the periwinkle color tinting the fragile petals.
He watches an epiphany light up in your widened eyes as the bouquet was lifted higher, turning back to face him. 
Don’t. Don’t say the words he knows are hanging off the tip of that honeyed tongue. 
“They are the same lovely color as your eyes, Neuvillette.” You beam at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling from the stretch of your lips. 
His posture returns to its rigid and upright state, a hand hidden from view balls up into a fist.
A sharpness threatening to break through leather confines and into his palm, as if they were attempting to grapple the surging torrent stirred up within himself. 
Why? Why was this line from a script being recited word for every damn word? All said with that saccharine smile plastered over those wicked lips? 
Indecipherable eyes narrow ever so slightly before he catches himself. Reining in the torrent just before it seethed out.
He clears his throat again to swallow back the bitterness. 
“Do excuse me, please return to your reading session,” he utters his parting. 
Promptly turning to return to his secludedness, stepping past the Melusines gathered by his side.
Swift strides through the empty halls leaving you to your peace and him to his peace, just as it should’ve been. Much to the pouts of a disappointed audience. 
However, he didn’t have the mind to contemplate their discontent. Not when these rabid bellows drown out every other thought in their rancor.
Like a sea starved for vengeance, ravenous to settle a debt against those vile gods and their beloved creations. 
A brass knob was abruptly twisted, hinges squealing in surprise as at the force as Neuvillette shuts it behind himself.
Ragged breathes resounding through the reprieve of his bedroom. Away from innocent bystanders and the devil who showed her face again after all these centuries for an encore.  
Has he not been humiliated enough? He tugs at his cravat, freeing himself from the fickle decoration constricted about his neck in this already imprisoning body.
A form which binded him no matter how violently talons and fangs clawed and chewed, unable to leave a singular dent upon this damn curse. 
This was humiliating enough, bound to this cove that separated him from the sea which cries for their sovereign.
He once believed this penitentiary was obscured away from the peeking eyes of capricious gods. Perhaps, he’s wrong. 
Why is this fantasy being played out right in front of his eyes now after all these years?
To have you by his side, to have you reside in the home he craved out and inlaid pearls into, to see you smile and cradle young against your bodice. It’s insulting. 
Because this was all he ever wanted. This was all he had ever wanted. 
The lonesome dragon only ever yearned for a maiden’s endearment. He once believed she adored him back just the same. 
Because while she lay within his arms under silken covers, her bare skin pressed against his mortal shape, her enchanting eyes always regarded him with such tenderness as her delicate hand stroked his cheek. 
A glimmer he once believed was love.  
The tale written along the parchment implied that the ‘princess’ loved the dragon. However, that was inaccurate. She never did. 
For if she loved him, then she wouldn’t have deceived him.
She wouldn’t have ever whispered his secret to the town’s folk. Those foul creatures who then used his secret, which was once reserved solely for ‘you’.
Why? That simple question taunted him for decades as he rotted in this mocking solitude.
Why did ‘you’ yearn for the sun more than him? Was his love not enough to replace the warmth of a star? Was the home he made not enough when compared to the extravagance of humanity? 
Or was it because blood and water, no matter how much they intertwine and mix, could never produce wine? 
If… if the Melusines had been born just a few centuries earlier, then would you have been satisfied by his side? An answer he could already discern.
 Because after his decades of solitude within these deridingly hushed walls, he finally accepted the truth. 
 She loved her people, they took up all the space of her heart, leaving no room for a prideful leviathan.
What a clever plan it all was, to distract a sovereign from his duty, cleansing stolen land with a flood of vengeance, by sending a maiden.
A woman so bewitching, so enchanting, and so lovely, that a proud dragon couldn’t resist bending to her whims. Spilling the secret hidden deep within him into her ear. 
Abandoning his true form to be confined in the shape she favored the most. Then lured up to the surface, suspicions obstructed by the dazzlement of a false welcome from the nation of Fontaine. 
Unaware until the scorching knife was already lodged in his back. Using the secret he had only ever told you, those meek creatures of the usurpers wished:
‘For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides’. 
What a clever ploy, a masterly crafted master plan. Did that Oratrice bestow it upon mortals? Or was it your own little scheme? A devil in human skin who must’ve been enlisted by the god themselves. 
 That day when he was chained by that loch, you didn’t even bother to grace him with your presence.
You cruel, cruel devil whose heart only had room for her fellow citizens of Fontaine, whose eyes only ever glimmered with duty. 
Neuvillette had finally comprehended the truth, he had made peace with the disgrace he brought upon himself. 
So why did those vile false gods dangle you back in his face? They had already taken fragments of his authority.
Was his torment entertaining to them? 
Lungs shaking with unsteady breaths, he could feel the pricks of scales dotted along his skin only for this body to swiftly reject it. A turmoil of draconic influence constrained by a mortal curse. 
Like a beast kept in a cage much too small for it. If Neuvillette wishes for this agitation to cease, he must cease the stirred emotions. 
 Emotions don’t settle quickly once agitated like sand attempting to settle at the bottom of violent tides. He paces his shuddery inhales, biding in the solitude of his room until the storm dissipates. 
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To avoid the placid lake within him from thrashing violently to the woes from the throb of a wound which has yet to scar over, Neuvillette found it best to avoid your presence. 
The lanterns outside the Melusine’s homes had long gone out as they followed their routine bedtime.
The expanse of the cavern dimmed to near blackness, the small creatures all tucked away soundly in their beds. A hushed ambiance provides a suitable environment for reflection. 
His steps flatten the grass underneath as they accompany his strides with their rustling.
The absence of light had never bothered him, it’s within his nature to detest it. Any beast would withdraw away from the mere image of fire. 
The rustle of the grass halts, a wispy aroma of smoke wafts towards him. It doesn’t take long to identify the origin. Only a small flicker broke through the shadows, candlewick fostering only a weak flame.
But it was enough to fend the shadows away from your frame. 
The flame’s light caught on each subtle ripple of the pond you were kneeling over.
The seemingly unremarkable pool served as the sole entrance and exit to Merusea Village. Where the Melusines traveled through to gather food, fresh water, and trinkets swallowed up by the waves. 
Cold waters catch the bitter droplets of your pained eyes in the reflection of the ripples upon the surface, the distorted silhouette of a weeping devil. 
An unspoken gospel revealed to draconic pupils. 
Under the rich aromas wafting from the kitchen, behind the diligently tailored gowns, and hidden in the cadence of your voice as you read tales aloud, laid the yearning for the rays of a bright star. 
You’re human, a creature fleeting and meek by nature. Blood yearns to be with blood just as every drop of rain yearns to return to a cloud. 
A sharp rustle of grass under a heavy step jolts your hunched-over posture straight, head whipping around to face the uninvited audience.
Once those weeping eyes recognize the brooding figure in front of them, your face adverts away from his direction. Shame evident upon your expression. 
A concerned hand reaches out only to retract away, contrition marring his shut lips as Neuvillette diverts his eyes too.
Fire burns indiscriminately, even the dancing flame of a candle can sear its mark upon skin. Neuvillette knows this all too well, for the lesion he received from embracing that flame once still festers even after all these years.  
However, lilac eyes pan back towards the orange glow illuminating your melancholic face. Warm hues contrast against the wet trails down your cheeks. There’s an ache more agonizing than a festering wound. 
His steps advanced closer until he was knelt down by your slump frame. A benevolent touch lands upon your shoulder. Guiding you away from the taunting waters and into his arms, hiding your face in his broad shoulder. 
 Offering you a semblance of warmth in a coven shunned from the grace of gentle sunlight.
With your face away from his gaze, the cacophony of your sobs returns, digging your fingers into the folds of his dress shirt.
Echoed back mockingly by the cold cavern walls.
Perhaps a foolish dragon has yet to learn his lesson, still lured in that the brilliant light of a flame. 
A gentle hand traces up along your back, softly brushing your hair away to reveal the skin of your nape to his sharp pupils.
Honed in upon untainted skin, the courts of rebirth may have removed the proof of your damnation, but not the hex itself. 
Or maybe, a foolish dragon feels some responsibility for being the one to curse you to this fate. 
A mark once imprinted upon your nape by a lonesome dragon, a heavy oath sworn to you engrained into the very fabric of your soul amidst the first rendition.
One which then became the cursed chains that sunk you under the unforgiving waters.
It’s said that love is heavy, a weight greater than the density of water. A heaviness which could sink anything and everyone under salty tides. 
A heaviness originating from this accursed prison where a disgraced being resided.
Even as the earth above welcomed new generations as they said goodbye to bygone times. 
The solitude of a fool turning into ravenous waves which seeped into soil until its appetite was satiated by the return of its beloved treasure.
It’s his fault that the tides stole you from the sunlight. 
The courts of rebirth had already forgiven you of this burden, not a single memory remaining of that tale.
What right does he have to place it back upon you? There’s no point in punishing one for a sin that had been cleansed by the tides of time.
You didn’t deserve to be held away from the warmth of a benevolent sun.
To have been dragged down below to these depths. To have been stolen away from the warmth of the sun by the command of fickles gods and ancient grudges.
It’s much too severe of a sentence for you, someone who didn’t deserve to repent for a sin that wasn’t truly yours. 
Is it okay for his hands to wipe away your tears when this cursed dragon was the cause of your agony?
Even if it’s wrong, Neuvillette holds you closer. Even if he didn’t have the right, he pressed your face in his shoulder. Allowing the vehemence of your tears to scorch his skin as you buried your cries into him. 
Glancing at the pool you had been leaning over, he watches as the ripples of the surface taunt you and him the same.
Two beings whose bodies couldn’t embrace the tides. Two cursed beings who’ve been trapped in repeated play. 
“It seems you’re bound to this prison as well.” He scorns those gods and ancient grudges, but he scorns himself the most.
Confined behind a human face and a human body, a traitor who’s lost his birthright over the waters who couldn’t welcome him.
How can a cursed dragon quell those choking sobs of yours? How can he atone for his selfish sin?
Neuvillette takes a deep breath just your tears continue to soak his skin. Steeling his resolve, he meditates on the one resolution he can offer you. 
“Fontainians still tell a tale about a princess who wished a dragon to become a prince, yes?” He begins. 
After a pause filled with hiccups and shaky breaths, you nod your head as an answer. 
“It was when she spoke the dragon’s true name that he granted her one wish,” he recounts the tale, feeling the trembles of your shoulders. 
“That part of the story isn’t fictitious,” he reveals.
Voices from the depths of his rationality whisper for him to stop, to expand no more upon this secret of his brethren. Clamorous warnings to a traitor to not repeat his past transgressions. 
However, he obeys no edict from the heavens or origins. Not when an unjust punishment caused such heart-wrenching sobs. 
“Names hold great significance to dragons. So much so, to whoever learns their true name, a wish can be granted.” 
Slowly, your tear-stained face pulls away from his crinkled dress shirt. Finally meeting his lilac gaze. He notes the bewilderment which surrounds his reflection in your eyes. 
“Is… your name not ‘Neuvillette’?” You inquire. 
“It’s a surname bestowed upon me by the mortals of the land.” 
“Then… What is your name?” A glimmer of optimism ever so subtly debuts in your eyes. 
He could not tell you. No matter how beautifully that light shines, this was one ordinance he couldn’t ignore. All he could do was glance away as he shakes his head. Unable to bear the sight of that light extinguishing. 
“That is what you must find for yourself.” 
Perhaps this is his defiance of the plot which has been unraveling for so long. His attempt to step off that circular path, searching for a different end. 
The silent audience of fate watching on with bemusement to where this rendition will lead. 
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“Oh?”
“Oh?”
What a peculiar occurrence, Neuvillette was just about to exit his study when he found himself just a breath’s width away from you. Instinctively, he takes a step back behind the threshold of the doorway.
Passive eyes studying your form, you must’ve been standing there for a while. A hand held up intending to knock on the oak door returns to your side as you stare at the floor. 
“Is there something you need assistance with?” He continues to study you. 
Lilac eyes observe as your fingers clasp together, a common habit of mortals when nervous, if he recalls the contents of a book correctly. Another minute passes before you take a deep breath. 
“Is your name Guillaume?” You peer up. 
Ah, so this is what you wished to inquire about.
The secret revealed to you that day beside an exit neither he nor you could cross. Guillaume, a name befitting of nobility. But unfortunately, not for a dragon. 
He responds with a shake of his head, expression stiffening as he watches the corners of your lips drop ever so slightly. 
“Oh…”
It seems his existence brings nothing but a frown upon those soft lips, Neuvillette felt it’s best to retreat from your sight. 
This attempt was evidence of your determination to return to the embrace of a warm star.
It wouldn’t be right for him to interfere, despite those vile voice whispers murmuring from the depth of his mind. It wouldn’t be fair to you. 
It’s best to maintain this distance between his hand and yours, for your sake and his. 
Which begs the question, why were you still standing here in front of him? 
“Is that all you wished to inquire?” Neuvillette hopes the Melusines will lift your spirits after he withdraws. 
“Actually…” You began. “I made some soup and if you haven’t had lunch yet, would you like to try some?” 
Although his stoic face might not reflect it, he’s positively baffled. Were ‘you’ always this enthusiastic about food?
The devil he knew before would view the freshest catches and clearest waters offered by a dragon with blasé reactions. 
You used to recoil away from the fishes and meats he held out to you, they were only ever touched once he charred them over a fire. 
Then again the kitchen back then was much more barren than the present, cabinets now decorated with bottles of fragrant spices and herbs. 
Was it just a difference in palate? To reject such an invitation would be to squander a precious opportunity for investigation. 
“The pleasure would be all mine.” He matches your strides as the two of you traverse toward the kitchen. 
Settling down in a chair at a wooden table, Neuvillette watches as you ladle some soup into a bowl. Following your form as you set the bowl down in front of him. A pleasant aroma accompanies the steam emitting from the bowl. 
“It’s Fontainian Onion Soup.” You hand a spoon over. 
“Thank you.” He takes the utensil and scoops a hearty serving of the rich soup.
A distinct flavor of caramelized onions and the creaminess of cheese. The broth had been thickened with a bit of flour and the cheese added to the heavy mouth feel. 
This dish certainly expresses the flavor preferences of humans… but could such a thick broth really be considered soup? 
“Do you like it?” Your head tilts to the side as he feels your inquisitiveness. 
Dabbing a napkin over his lips, he clears his throat. 
“A fine dish indeed. Although increasing the liquid content and reducing the amount of fat could improve it,” he advises. 
A hush falls over the kitchen, nothing but the occasional crackle of a fire filling the space. 
“Oh… I’ll keep that in mind.” Your voice was restraining something. 
As you turn away, Neuvillette catches the subtle shakes of your shoulders. 
Ah, has he caused offense? He recalls how cooking and food preferences amongst humans tend to be a sore spot for most, some books going as far as to claim critics as attacks on one’s pride. 
You had taken time out of your day to prepare a bowl for him, and he gave senseless comments in return. 
“Ah, but it’s delicious regardless, thank you.” He has to remedy this situation. 
The shakes of your shoulders increase, as a hand covers your lips. 
“Thank you, Monsieur.” Your lips seem to be trying to stifle something. 
After finishing your sentence, your lips pressed tighter together. He could see the corners twitching as they tried their best to remain neutral.
Before he could get another word in, you excused yourself. Leaving him in front of the warm soup. 
In that moment, Neuvillette vows to himself that even if you were to hand him a piece of charcoal he’ll swallow it without a single complaint. 
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“Is your name Édouard?” 
Your voice causes him to turn his attention away from the pages of a book this quiet evening.
You stood just off to the side of the bookshelf where he was browsing, a candle illuminating the curiosity held in your eyes. Presenting a name likely discovered from those very same shelves.
Dirges ring from the corners of his mind, warning him not to allow the light to approach so close.
However, where is a shadow supposed to withdraw to when the light seeks him?
Just as how the tide couldn’t run away from the shore for long. Steadfast and constant attempts to unravel the secrets held by the ebbs and flows. 
Alas, he shakes his head again today, steeling his nerves as he catches the slight drop in your shoulders. Louis, Étienne, Théodore, and all those previous guesses, are names of heroes in Fontainian tales and epics. 
Popularized to the point many boys were named after them, but no parent would ever want to name their child after a dragon, a beast.
He doubts the pages of history have ever recorded his name. 
Your disheartened gaze couldn’t meet his, choosing to stare into the space beside him. He couldn’t fault you for that.
All your efforts of combing through old novels to search for obscured monikers just to be undone by a shake of a head.
He’s not sure how much longer he can endure being the origin of your melancholy.
“There’s a tear in your coat…” 
Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, he glances at the spot your eyes were honed on and spots the aforementioned tear. 
“Ah, I see. My apologies for being in such an unsightly state, ” he sighs. Lilac eyes ran along the jagged seams. 
He should go find a replacement from his wardrobe, but you still looked like you had something to say. 
“I can fix it if you’d like,” you offer. 
It’s just a garment, a piece of cloth that fell off some merchant’s ship and found itself in the walls of a cove. There were plenty of other garments that suffered the same fate, picked up by pairs of curious mittened hands. 
To replace this robe would be simple, but he notes the concealed eagerness in the fidget of your fingers. It must be rather dull for you down here for the past year, to the point you resorted to repairing old fabrics for enrichment. 
Regrettably, Neuvillette admits he’s not the best host. He’s got no talent for small talk nor does he know how to entertain you, thus he left it up to the Melusines. However, he could at least do this much as a host. 
“Thank you, I’d be grateful if you do.” 
His steps in time with yours through the halls as an old storage room comes into view. Still filled with collections of folded gowns and coats.
As he observes the room, you guide him to a pair of wooden chairs, a box filled with needles and threads beside one. You place the candle down on a nearby table.
“I’ll take your coat.” Holding out your hands. 
Following your request, he slips the robe off his shoulders, leaving him in a dress shirt and slacks.
Attentively you take the garment, settling down in a seat as your hand searches through the box. After your rummaging stopped, you glance back at him. 
“It won’t take long, please have a seat.” Gesturing toward the other chair. 
Lilac eyes scanned the aged seat, the door was just beyond it, it wouldn’t take much of an excuse for him to walk past the wooden threshold.
However, he pans back to your anticipatory gaze still awaiting. It wouldn’t be polite to deny such a simple gesture. 
Thus, he heeds your request, ambling toward the empty seat, he begins to settle down just as a rip resonates through the air.
His body halts all movement just as yours did, toward pairs of eyes trained on the sleeve that had been caught on the edge of a wooden table. 
The fibers of his shirt entangled with the jagged edges causing his sleeve to rip. Neuvillette truly has yet to acclimate to such fickle inconveniences. 
“Pfft!-” Quickly your hand covers your mouth. 
Lips pressed together as they tried their best to stifle the sounds threatening to leak out. Your shoulders shaking from the effort, just as they did that day in the kitchen.
Although his expression remains the same, he’s quite dumbfounded.
Unable to contain the sounds any longer, you erupt into a fit of giggles as he continues to stare. The bright chimes of your laughter fill the room, a melodic tune he had longed to hear for so long. 
“S-sorry, I just didn’t expect you to… be so clumsy.” Giggles fragment your sentence along with a brief pause to collect yourself. 
Clumsy. Yes, he remembers that word, an adjective you used to describe a dragon whenever he took on the shape you favored so much.
Of course, even a great beast like a dragon would totter and stumble when in such a foreign body. 
Although he has been in this body for many, many years now, yet, Neuvillette hasn’t acclimated to these fickle mortal attires.
If these garments weren’t pushed into his hands by the Melusines and their bright-eyed stares, he’d prefer to not dawn them. 
Neuvillette shuts his eyes. His lungs intake a deep breath, stifling the sway of these trivial inconveniences before they cause any ripples.
Once he’s certain there was no jagged edge to his stare, lilac hues peek back upon your figure. 
By now those fits of giggles had faded into a tranquil lull, your content face focused on the stitches. Body relaxed against the back of the chair, weaving the needle through the sides of the tear.
Subconsciously, his frame begins to mimic yours, rigid muscles melting against the wooden support. 
Lavender hues follow the disappearance of a sliver point, then catch its emergence from the fabric.
The torn and frayed edges draw closer and closer together by the coaxes of the thread, each stitch attentively placed by your graceful hands. 
“Neuvillette?” Your serene voice interlaces with the placid interlude. 
He hums an answer. 
“That night by the entrance… you said ‘You're bound to this cove as well’.” The pace of the needle slows. 
“Why did you say that?” You finish your question. 
Observant, a characteristic of yours he’s always deemed quite commendable. Ever so keen on the nuances of his sentences. 
The piercing stare of draconic eyes weighs on your shoulders, despite that the cadence of the needle didn’t falter. A ripple makes its appearance within a placid pool. 
“Do you really wish to know?” He warns. 
You hum resolutely. A bitter taste creeps its way up his tongue, the recollection of the string of words which damned him here. 
Instinct advises him to swallow them back, to conceal his shame from your awaiting ears. However, answering the call of your curiosity should be enough of a repayment for repairing a coat. 
“For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides. That is the curse set upon this body,” he reveals. 
The needle stops.
“A curse?…” you stammer out. 
Under your breath, Neuvillette hears you recount the disclosed secret. Repeating it to yourself as if to decipher the syntax, to find some answers to his condemnation.
The answer was sitting just in front of him. 
“…For the rest of one’s life… well, how long do dragons live?” 
To mortals, it’s time who is the reaper of their existence. From the moment a newborn sounds their first cry to the final draw of air on their deathbeds, it was the hands of a clock who ruled over them.
But such hands could not touch a being such as him. 
“The life of a dragon begins and ends in the Fontemer Sea, born from it, made from it, and shall return to it to be born again.” He wonders if mortals could grasp such a concept. 
“Oh…” Your tone grew more somber. 
Judging from your tonality, you must’ve pieced the allusions together.
To be contained within these stone walls with only a pool of seawater he could not touch as the opening, is to bestow upon him immortality he never asked for.
For the Hydro Dragon could not return to the Fontemer Sea. 
Even if dragons had long lives, it didn’t mean the humiliation of immortality. The true cruelty of this seemingly kind curse. 
“Why?” Your voice just barely above a whisper. 
Why was he cursed? Why is he in this sham of a mortal body? Why did he reveal the secrets of his brethren? All of this at the trifling sight of bitter tears. 
“Because the people of Fontaine found my name and they wished for it.” 
Why did he give you his name? And why did you then give it away? There are many questions left unanswered by that tale. 
Why did a proud dragon bow to the whims of a mere mortal in that fairytale?
A creature as potent as a dragon should never bow, not to the ordinances of false gods, not to the turbulence of fate, and not to a mere mortal. 
 Why did a maiden wish for a dragon to become a human like them? Water is an adaptable element, able to take on any shape it pleases. However, it yearns to always return to its natural shape. 
Perhaps, his ‘natural’ form appalled the devil too much. So much so, she used that one wish to confine him in the form she favored most.
More confoundingly, why did Neuvillette allow such a request? A creature favored by the usurpers dared to wish a dragon to abandon his heritage, to cross over the threshold of humanity just for their sake.
Why would a dragon ever bow to a mortal’s request?
The commandments of a false god and the howling thrashes of wind can’t make a proud dragon bow, but the weight of love might be enough for a prideful beast to lower his head towards a mortal. 
A traitor to his own fallen brethren is much too dignified of a title for Neuvillette. No, it’d be better to call him for what he is: A Fool. 
What a spectacle it was that day, even those fickle gods peered down just to watch. A fool who lost his form and authority was imprisoned beneath the tides.
A stir shakes that pool, whirling and writhing, the billows of bitterness mounting. 
“… could it be wished away?” Your voice beckons his thoughts to return to the present. 
Unlike how it was written in those tales, a curse can’t be ‘broken’. Not by a kiss, and not by clasping one’s hands together in prayer. 
“Not even a miracle could make a curse vanish, a curse only ever goes away once its clauses have been fulfilled.” 
Until the stars burn out, until the sky caves in on itself, or until the oceans of this uprooted world dry up, he shall remain here. The retribution a traitor deserves. 
He shall remain in this sham of a body, unable to become the form he desired the most in the next life he’ll never reach.
Not a human, not a dragon, just an atrocity somewhere in-between. This must be what humans call ‘purgatory’.  
“I see…” Your attention never leaves the half-stitched garment sprawled upon your lap. 
A heavy silence fills the space between you and him once more. To conclude a conversation on such a doleful note would be a disgrace. 
However, what is he to say? What words can salvage this situation? Neuvillette has no talent for small talk, he doesn’t have the same mortal heart as yours to provide you with any solstice. 
Amidst his contemplation, a soft hum resounds through the quietude, and the melodic rhythm of a lullaby begins. It seems that you took matters into your own hands, ending the doleful silence at your own discretion.
Once more his back reclines into the wooden chair, pointed ears indulge themselves in a nostalgic tune.
It’s strange, that rippling pool is swaying back to equilibrium. The surface returns to its placid rest as tension melts from his muscles. 
Unaware of the hushed pitter-patter of a curious audience, drawn in by the gentle song as their bright eyes peer ever from the cover of the door frame. 
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“Madame! Look I got more Pluie Lotuses!” Kiara’s little steps rush across the marble floor. 
Getting up on the tips of her feet to show the bundle of fresh blooms, salty water still dripping from their petals, as her bangs stick flush to her face still damp from the sea. Her pink tail swaying behind her.
Your body turns in her direction just in time with Neuvillette. 
“Kiara…” A subtle layer of disapproval emerges from lilac hues.
“Remember to dry off before entering the estate, the floors can become quite dangerous when wet.” 
“But…” the flowers lower. “I wanted to show Madame the lotuses…” 
There’s a drop in her tail and horns and a sharp sting to his chest. Her sisters were gathered around in a circle, a story having just concluded, he could feel their stares upon him. Adding to the sharpness of guilt. 
“My apologies, Kiara, I only meant to warn you.” 
She nods her head silently, tail still dragging on the floor. Ah, just what should he do? A frown begins to weigh down his face. 
“Thank you, they’re wonderful, Kiara.” Your gentle chime breaks through the stalemate. 
You take the bouquet from her mittened hands, placing them atop a counter, in exchange you offer her a towel. 
“But Neuvillette is right, it’s not good to run through the halls right after you returned from the waters. It’s dangerous, okay?” Your voice as gentle as the towel rubbed over her hair and horns. 
A content smile returns to her round cheeks as she diligently nods, promising that she’ll be more careful next time. Tail lifting up from the floor as the fluffy towel wipes away the ocean droplets. 
Once fully dried, she joins her sisters. The Melusines cast shifting glances toward one another until one finally steps out from the crowd. 
“Madame…” Carole calls out softly, tugging a few times the hem of your long dress. 
“Hm?” Giving her your full attention, a towel set aside. 
“I overheard you inquiring about names with Monsieur in the library once, could you be…” Her eyes downcasted. 
Oh. This time it was Neuvillette and you who exchanged glances, eyes both reflecting the same dread.
They weren’t supposed to know. They weren’t supposed to hear those slapdash guesses. 
He never meant for them to find out. Always careful to never discuss such matters in their earshot.
For how could he bear to tell them that their cozy village was actually a prison? 
His mind was unable to conjure up an excuse, tongue unwilling to speak it. They weren’t supposed to find out. Oh, what shall he do now? 
“Could you be expecting?” 
Huh?
Two pairs of eyes widened with bewilderment, mind stunned into silence and lips just as confused.
Somehow they’ve huddled even closer than before, encircling you and him with their bright eyes and tails swaying with anticipation. 
“Will there be a new addition to the village?” 
“How long do we have to wait?” 
“Are we getting a brother or sister?” 
Their chatter and probes homogenized into a jumbled symphony his flustered conscious just couldn’t distinguish. Trying to reel his senses back from this unexpected turn of events. Neuvillette clears his throat. 
“No,” he coughs out. 
A collective ‘aw’ resounds through the air, their tails and horns drooping down at the announcement. Guilt pierced its nail through his chest once more. However, he couldn’t lie to their bright eyes. 
“N-not, yet.” You add to his statement. 
A wave of inquisitive‘oh’ ripples through the crowd. Tails picked up from the ground as the glimmer in their eyes returned.
A sweet lie sprinkled over the truth neither of you dare tell, that blood and water can’t make wine. 
“Then, do you want a little prince or little princess?” Carole chirps. 
You remain silent, only gazing down at their faces as they stare back.
A lilac stare was also focused upon you, his curiosity awakening at this question as well. He watches you take a slow breath before leaning down. 
“I’d like to have a daughter, sweet and kind like all of you.” Your hand strokes her soft trestles. 
Her head nuzzles into your palm as giggles fill the air. Only draconic eyes study the small smile upon your lips, dipped in bittersweetness. 
Did you have a lover back on the surface in this life? Perhaps someone who was promised to you. A real prince this time. 
Did you have dreams of basking in the grace of the sun, cradling a bundle as a pair of tiny fingers encase around your own?
Was this the hard-earned happy ending you yearned for?
“Monsieur…” Mamaere tugs on his slacks. 
Neuvillette reigns his thoughts back from their escapade, he angles his head down. 
“Where does a baby come from?” 
The smile on your lips stiffen just as Neuvillette’s body does.
If there’s a god who’s peering into this cavern deep below the land and sea, must they send such dilemmas his way?
How does one navigate through this treacherous domain?
“Oh dear! I just remembered.” Your hands clap together.
“There’s a few ribbons and clips in the fabric room, do you girls mind getting them? So we can braid Monsieur’s hair?” 
At once the Melusines stand at attention, focus diverted over their excitement at the prospect of decorating snowy locks.
The patters of their little steps trample down the hall, allowing you and Neuvillette a well-deserved moment of reprieve. 
“Thank you.” His posture drops slightly as a hefty sigh leaves him, lids shut for a moment of rest.  
“Of course, Sébastien.” 
His eyes crack open, casting you a glance with a raised brow. The ghost of a grin barely contained by delicate lips. By this time, Neuvillette couldn’t recall all the past attempts. 
“Regrettably, that is not my name.” 
“Was it at least a decent attempt?” 
He could hear the pout in your voice, one that didn’t last long before a light-hearted laugh follows it.
Closing his eyes once more as he indulges in those chimes, he nods ever so slightly. It was a good attempt, for it brought out those sounds he enjoyed. 
His lashes flutter open at the sensation of his hair getting gathered in your tender hold. Passing the carved wooden teeth of a comb through his snowy locks.
Careful to not pull or tug on them as you coaxed the tangles out of their knots. The heaviness upon his shoulders leaves with a deep exhale which left his body, indulging in your attentive touches.
Subconsciously, his gaze trails up at the bundle of flowers resting along the wooden table. It wasn’t the periwinkle blush of the delicate petals that commanded his attention.
No, it was that salty, oceanic wisp mingled with the flora aroma. A fleeting essence of the sea.
“Do you miss the sea?” 
Ah, it seems that his stare wasn’t as subtle as he had hoped. Neuvillette turns away from the flowers as if he had been caught amidst a scheme.
Facing in front of him, your paused hands signal your wait for his response. 
“I suppose it’s only natural for me to long for it.” 
After all these years, Neuvillette believes he has finally grasped it, an answer to that void filled with ‘whys’. As if he had seized the reflection of a star from the bottom of a deep lake.
Neuvillette thinks he understands why you and the devil yearned for the sunlight. 
Perhaps the one similarity between proud dragons and arrogant humans. They both ache to return to where they came from.
One yearns for the sea. One yearns for land.
For there and only there, could their sins and grudges be purged. To gain the most restful sleep before the hands of fate shape them anew from the element.
“Hmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. 
Fingers gentle and slow as they brushed through his hair. You hum a lullaby to accompany each pass of the comb. Melodies that made his ears yearn for more, craving for more sounds to leave your plush lips. 
His hair had always been an inconvenience, capricious strands that were seemly curious of everything in his environment.
Snowy tresses find themselves gravitating towards door hinges, door knobs, and even the minuscule gaps in ornate furniture.
However, your patience hands untangled those unruly stands. 
When a knot proves to be particularly stubborn, you tend to lend closer to hone in on the troublesome tangle. 
It just so happens that a stubborn knot appeared, causing you to decrease the proximity between your bodies.
The heat radiating from your frame sends delightful pickles along his skin, a delicate warmth making his flesh grow feverish. 
A hunger deep within begins to grumble and wallow, a greed that wishes to dig past those frivolous fragrances to get to the true taste he craves.
An ugly gluttony pleading to delve into your soft flesh. Ah, he recognizes the cause of this turbulence now…
Neuvillette clears his throat. 
“I believe I’m beginning to feel unwell, so please refrain from venturing into the cellar for the next few weeks. I should quarantine myself.” Too ashamed to turn back and face you. 
“Oh?...” The comb stops.
At this distance, he was well aware of your scent. A fine fragrance no water or bloom could hope to imitate. Concealed under a layer of lavish soaps and oils dropped from the surface was an aroma that was wholly yours and yours alone. 
A gloved hand reaches up to cover his nostrils, seeking some barrier between that tantalizing whiff. 
“Please, excuse me…” He pulls away swiftly. 
The sudden action must’ve jostled his hair too much, for the sultry sensation of your fingertips was felt along azure ‘strands’. 
Just a minor touch against his horns, yet shudders rack up his nape. His teeth sink into the flesh of his bottom lip, sharper than they’re supposed to be, anchoring those ravenous voices at bay momentarily. 
He needs to leave now. For your sake. 
Rushed strides stow a distance between his body and that delectable warmth of yours. His back turned to you as he couldn’t bear to see the expression upon that saccharine face. 
Just what expression were you making as a dragon retreated?  
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The cellar of this estate was always cold, its stones never having once touched the sunlight before, thus they only brood in their frigidity. A somberness fitting to quell a heat which yearned to burn. 
The fever has consumed his body wholly, each pant leaving trails of foggy wisps. Neuvillette burrows deeper into the hoard of sheets, pillows, and blankets. The brush of the soft fabrics prickles his skin. 
How strange it is that despite the fever of heat igniting each corner of his flesh, despite the numerous thick covers twisting and burying his bare form, he’s still shivering. 
A chill ingrained so deep it’s in his very bones, skin alight but bones frozen over, just what is this purgatory? 
Annually it happens, a period where primal instincts exude past the rigid confines of a mortal form. Making its influence in the resurgence of draconic features over the mortal flesh that traps him.
No matter how raw his true form claws to be released, the mortal prison doesn’t relent. A curse he’s brought upon himself.
Laceratations of gluttony and cardinal sin sink deeper with each provocation. The creeks of the floorboards above and the sweet voice which leaked through the woods, the morsels of you that stirred the waters of instinct. 
From the depths of the torrent, he’s so desperately suppressing came the unquenchable thirst to lure you in. Beckon you down to this shadowy cellar so that the ugly and primal waters could swallow you wholly. 
But he mustn’t. Those soft touches and smiles had just been bestowed upon him, the twine of trust still delicate. How could he ever squander such privileges? For those lovely eyes of yours to look at him filled with nothing but fear and disgust, he’d rather be chained down here for the rest of eternity. 
He must endure it for a bit longer, he knows it’ll be over soon. The gale which sweeps through him is slowly lessening its blows. 
Even if the waters of primitive instincts howled and stormed, Neuvillette refused to leave this tangle of blankets and pillows. An unwavering grip refusing to submit to those demands. Thus nature had to find its own way to subsist off a drought. 
The heat hazed over his mind, conjuring up fantasies to appease the ever-unsettled water from its vapid reality.
“Neuvillette?” A soft voice calls out.
Just like now. Desire fogs up his senses to create a delusion, mimicking the way your warm voice beckons him. It’s nothing but a figment of his depraved lust. 
“Neuvillette?” 
He buries his ears further into the down covers to block the alluring mirages. Tickling him to submit to the temptation. But he mustn’t. Nothing more than a manifestation of lust. 
 The phantom donning your sweet voice calls out for him, and gentle touches send shivers through his nerves. Ah, he must vanquish this mirage before the fraying line of his self-restraint splinters apart. 
Nothing but smoke and mirrors conjured by desire, a rigid arm expels out from the covers to dissipate the siren’s lure. 
However, it wraps around something warm, a heat which his fever wails for. Intrinsically his shivering body covets that warmth, to be buried flush against the source so that this chill may finally stop its torment. 
So like any greedy dragon, his claws enclose around temptation and drag it into his decrepit cave of blankets and sheets. 
A satisfied purr judders through his stalwart body, a warmth which could finally reach his very bones. Thus, he burrows his face deeper into the shoulder of this phantom, a lovely aroma beckoning him to pull their soft body closer. 
“Neuvillette?…” 
His eyes snap open, realization flooding through him just as the chill that had been ingrained into his bones. This wasn’t an illusion. You weren’t an illusion. 
He tears himself away, just as a moth does once they realize a hypnotic flame had set their wings alight. Trembly arms firmly planted on either side of your body, snowy locks falling onto your face. 
“Are you alright?...” The sapphire luminance of his elongated horns shines across those sinless eyes. 
The strap of a nightgown halfway down your shoulder from when he snatched you beneath his savage form. 
“You… you shouldn’t be here,” he breathes, voice unsteady and taut. 
“You’ve been away for an awfully long time… I-” Your eyes were blown wide and lips pressed together, aghast gaze not daring to glance down at the raging rigidness pressed against the silk of your nightgown. 
Frenzied shivers of pleasure jostles through his veins, tremors racking his body all the way to the tips of his horns. In desperation his rigidnesses pleaded to feel you, throbbing so painfully a hiss leaves his lips.
“You need to leave, quickly please.” Leave before he traps you again.
 Before this pathetic excuse of a sovereign loses against himself, before he makes a fool of himself. Neuvillette tries to pull away, against the weeping wishes of his erections. Face too ashamed to even look at you, but a pair of tender hands guides his cheeks back.
“...But I missed you…” You whisper. 
Why are your hands embracing his face in this unsightly state? Are they not appalled by the patches of scales littered across them? Like a flame reaching out towards a moth. 
“Leave, please.” Don’t tempt him like this. 
“... Don’t you miss me?...” Your hold doesn’t budge.
Why do you look at him like that? Irises filled with warmth as his image is reflected in the flickering candlelight. Gazing wholly up at him. A cerulean glow tinting your hair and supple body. 
“Don’t…” He reasons, the last of his sensibility crying a warning of a sinful fruit. 
“Please, Neuvillette… won’t you hold me for just a bit? I missed you so much….” The shift of your shoulder causes the nightgown to slip further off your shoulder. 
Don’t call out to him like that. No, not as your bewitching body was so close to his. The glow of a candle illuminating the curve of your cheeks, disheveled hair framing your wide eyes. 
Don’t show him such a sight, for he’ll salivate to devour you until his teeth rot.
“Please?...” Coaxing his head down so that his forehead rests against yours. 
Your warmth, your soft touches, and your delectable aroma, they parch his throat so much it pained him. Just as painful as attempting to swallow down sand from a hellish desert, it aches and lacerates his throat. 
And here you were offering a lustrous fruit, so juicy and filled of sin, in front of his famished eyes. A cruel, cruel mercy. 
“... May…May I?” It’s unbearable, this parchedness in his throat, would you be so kind to quench it? 
Your sweet hum grants him permission. Eyes closed just as you turn a blind eye to his ravenousness, still stroking his tender cheeks. Neuvillette couldn’t deny himself any more of the warmth he’s coveted for oh so long. 
Thus, he delves head-first into the glimmer of that enchanting flame. Burying his nose into the crook of your neck, so vulnerable and complacent, to hoard your bewitching fragrance all for himself. His skin flushed against yours as his bones delight in your heat. 
The reigns of self-respect slip out from his hands as they let go in favor of running along your curves and edges. Each feature, your shoulders, and hips, aligns with details he’s long ingrained into his memory.
His fervor touches pushing down the silk fabric which dare disturb his worship. Nevuillette cants his head up momentarily, puffs of smothering breaths clouding the frosty air. 
Lilac eyes drink up how the chilly air made your delectable breast perky, trailing down the goosebumps lining your torso, and landing on your exposed thighs.
A dryness itches in his throat as callused hands bite into the tender skin and he parts those placid legs away. 
Oh, how could one ever take their eyes off that shiny, succulent fruit held out so openly in the hands of the tempter of all tempters?
They reveal to him the oasis he’d been hallucinating these grueling weeks. The tip of a serpentine tongue slips across his parched lips.
Since you so brazenly offered your body up to him, you wouldn’t have any objects against him finally getting a taste, right? 
His foreboding figure traverses downwards until his delirious face is right between the cusp of his salvation and demise.
Dilated pupils peering up at you for approval, an invocation for clemency from this drought. A merciful hand graces his cheeks once more, granting him his salvation and demise. 
His tongue escapes past his parched lips, as lengthy as it was insatiable, it licks a slow and passionate strip up your slit. A taste he once would only recount in the depths of his recollections. 
Does this new body of yours still have the same weaknesses? Will you still writhe in madness if he sucks on that delectable little nub? Or how about those hidden points concealed deep within?
Could this tongue of his bring you past the brink of insanity in this life as well?
There was only one way for Neuvillette to grasp the answers he sought. A long tongue slips past the entrance of your satin walls, welcomed with a lewd squelch. 
Grip parting your legs from his path further. Those quivering calls of ‘Neuvillette’and the pawing of your small hands against his head beckon him deeper. 
Ah, redemption, it’s far too late for him now. For Nevillette has taken a bite out from that forbidden fruit, the evidence of it was dripping down his chin. 
Ah, these slick velvety walls, he missed them. They clamp down with such ferocity along this beastly tongue, extensive enough to reach the deepest cavern of you.
A divine nectar begins to pool, Neuvillette retracts his tongue just enough for the heavenly taste to slide down his throat. Your sweet musk sends his olfactory system into chaos, rampant tongue returning to ravish you.
Not one drop of restraint left within him. It’s beastly how he’s devouring you. His tongue craves more of the delicacy he’s denied himself these past years, a thirst no water could quench. Wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit in a meticulous long lap, his nose bumping into your clit. 
Your mewls and sobs echo off the walls when he flicks his tongue over that sensitive nub. Your body jolts violently as the length of his tongue ventures into the honeypot, toes curling in the air, but his iron-clad grip doesn’t allow any room for escape.
Delicate fingers now entangled into his tussled locks, grasping onto illuminated horns. You were likely trying to find something to ground your dissipating sanity, how unfortunate that your actions only flamed the fires. 
A guttural growl echoed. Tongue now plunging further, slithering back and forth along your walls. For being such a sweet sacrifice for him, he’ll give a reward. Slithering tongue making sure to drag against that spot he’s memorized.
Judging from how your feet were arching off the sheets, it seems this sinful detail of yours was repeated as well. 
Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls, your body twitching and flailing in reaction.
Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations. Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.
He could feel your muscles begin to seize up, slick walls clamping harder on his writhing tongue. Was this foreign sensation too much for you already?
His long tongue explores every last crevice, tastebuds lapping against those weak spots deep within as his nose bumps and grinds against that lewd clit. This unsightly side of you. 
There’s more fervor in the lashes of his tongue, slurping up the nectar trickling out your greed, mixing with his spit dripping down his chin.
Your legs trashing but unable to go anywhere in his unrelenting hold, only able to pull on his silky locks for dear life as sobs tumble out. A flood of arousal adds to the mess on his chin. One he gladly laps up. 
Oh’s and ah’s were the only choked sounds your lips could make as your eyes rolled to the back of your scrambled mind.
Neuvillette still relishing in the elixir he’s denied himself for too long, not even the purest water could compare. Reveling in the taste until every last drip ran down his parched throat. 
Pulling away, a trail connects his lips with your quivering folds.  Callous hands dig further into your legs, making room for his body. Watching as the movements of your chest slowed, his brute figure engulfed your frame.
The ache was unbearable now, each impatient throb reprimanding him for delaying their greed. Neuvillette couldn’t deny their request any longer.
Back sitting up straight, his cocks thrumming against his abdomen, precum exuding out from their swollen heads.  
The cool air did little to calm the throbs of his fervors, the girthy shaft standing tall as its engorged tip weeped precum, its twin weeping just the same.
They hover over the softness of your belly, sharp pupils trail up the shadow they cast, heralding to where they crave to be buried. 
The heat of his body was suffocating, the burn in his throat greater than ever before. But why? He had drank from that forbidden oasis, it’s dripping down his chin, yet why has his thirst grown greater than before? 
Neuvillette was so… so close. If he had only endured it for another day or two, the gale within him would’ve relented and retreated away in defeat. But oh how viciously it’s gloating in its victory. Getting a dragon to bow his head to its cardinal blows. 
“Do you… feel better now, Neuvillette?” Slow pants leave your curled lips as your hands reach up to caress his taut face. 
This brazenness, this shamelessness, this insolence. Ah, these characteristics have followed you through the grave and into this life as well. You weren’t skilled enough this time around to hide your desire glazed across your pupils. 
Did you do this in hopes of making him indebted to you? Offer your sweet body in return for stealing his name from his locked lips? Was this why you traversed down to this dark cellar so late in such flimsy silks?
That gleam in those deceptive eyes, the audacity to believe you could tame the sea with just a flick of your finger. You devious temptress. 
“Better?… you’ve only fanned the flames, you devious woman.” A snarl from the depths of him. 
Before another word could leave your lips one torrid hand pins your wrist to the sheets. Nails much too sharp to be human dig into those fickle and troublesome fabrics hiding your skin from his touch.
An all too satisfying rip resounding through the air along with your yelp. Scraps join the tangle of sheets. 
Did his mortal prison deceive you too much? Did his mild mannerisms trick you into believing that he’s a merciful soul? Or did you always ignore the warnings?
A monster with a human face is still a monster. To believe that one’s patience is endless, only a human could be this impertinent.
His other vascular hand slides down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs hook behind his firm thighs. The ridges of his lower cock drag against your slick folds, wetting his girth from its leaking tip sliding down against your swollen clit. 
Precum mixes with the concoction as the glossiness spreads about his length. A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Neuvillette positions his engorged tip at your dripping entrance.
The sensation must’ve cleared the daze from your mind, your head cants downwards to stare at the two oddities. 
“A-are both of them going to…” Your grip tightens on the sheets, a subconscious search for comfort. 
Ah, now you remember danger. Now you realize your insolence to believe that a mere human could ever tame a proud dragon. 
“There won’t be any point in breaking you so quickly,” he snarls. Not missing the flutter of your hole as the weeping head dragged over it. It wouldn’t be good to break you so quickly. His sweet little sacrifice. 
Taking the erection which hung lower, he rubs its flushed tip along your slit. Each flinch and tremble sparked gratification through his veins.
The lashes of his tongue had aided in the preparation of these sinful walls, but the girth of his beastly tongue could not compare to the thickness pressed against these leaking folds.
The ghost of his breath flutters over your prickling skin. Neuvillette takes deeper breaths as the weight pressed against your core grew, the bulbous tip inching past the puckering entrance.
The stretch was maddening despite the restrained pace. Your walls fluctuate in a surging dance between clamping down and trying to remain relaxed.
As Neuvillette sinks his girth in bit by bit, its envious twin slithers against your aching clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves drags against each ridge and vein, sending jolts of searing pleasure through him and causing your satin walls to flutter. 
A velvety sack kisses against your slick folds, signaling that his length has reached its end. The fat tip of its twin resting just above your naval indicated just how deeply he was buried, trapped between your soft flesh and his sculpted body.
It’s crowded inside you, girth parting and stretching these satin walls while the length is pressed against the deepest most intimate part of you.
Forcing delectable little whimpers and gasps from your haughty lips. Quivering legs now locking ankles behind his back, like a pitiable attempt to hamper him. 
That arrogance disgraced to nothing but obscenity upon a wanton face. To see the devil so helpless and lewd under the manipulation of a dragon. What a wonderful sight. 
Surely your body remembers his. If not, then he’ll ensure it does now, he’ll engrain it into you for the next life. 
One cock slid against the satin ridges of your walls, the other indulging along your searing skin and grinding against your clit. He can’t deny how addictive your body always has been. 
Dragging as far back as your locked legs would allow him, the flushed head of one dick kisses your twitching clit, and he sinks back in.
Grunts and purrs reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open. 
His pace is methodical and controlled to his liking. Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge.
Each time making your core empty and yearning to clench around his girth. Just as a whine would leave your drooling lips, his hips would return to you what your core longed for. 
Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. Back and forth, back and forth the resounding slaps echoed. Mingling with his low groans and your pitched gasps, creating a sacrilegious yet divine hymn.
Your hand rakes deeper into his toned back possessed by desperation.
A few snowy strands are trapped between your writhing fingers. Pulling him closer to your smoldering skin, causing your clit to grind intensely against his swollen cock, as its twin twitches within your velvety folds.
Those babbles falling from your fed lips, were they pleas for him to bestow upon you leniency or begging him to speed up? 
“Do you wish to climax?” A polite façade purrs into your ear. 
Lilac eyes were not ignorant to how a devil keens under his body, her gaze drunk off a feverish potion of lust and desire. He could feel it, these velvet walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming ache within you. 
“That’s too bad.”
 His hips remain steady contrasting against the unevenness of your own pants, unaffected by your desperate mewls. You’ve been selfish enough, you’ve been greedy enough. If he were to grant you a taste of ecstasy, then it’ll be on his terms. 
He hasn’t gotten his fill yet, no, he wants to pound his shape forever into these lewd walls. The way they contract and squeeze around his girth with each drive of his hips, they’re practically begging him to.
Thus, he accelerates just a bit more, then a bit more, then a bit more again. Nearly folding you with how flushed he was against you. 
The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into a spark. One which set the both of you ablaze. Your nails digging into his skin and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent prattles resound through the room.
Your devious walls clamped around his length with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling to guide his throbbing head to your deepest greed. It was too much.
Neuvillette was powerless as his body pressed yours deeper into the damp sheets, trying to grasp onto any fleeting wisps of control as euphoria overtook him. 
Sinking his ravenous teeth into the tangle of the sheets beside your neck, he stifles the admission of his defeat. 
A heftiness is spilled within your walls and paints the expanse of your skin in an all-consuming wave. Thick release coating every corner of your core, to finally quell that ravaging heat.
Each subsequent twitch pours more into your crowded cavity and stains your skin. The filthiness of it all seemingly prolongs your sinful depravity. 
Chest expanding with pants, pressing your erected nipples against his taut chest. Neuvillette remains buried against you, brutish arms holding your body flush against his.
As if to anchor you, to not allow the turbulent waves of madness to sweep you far from him, or him from you. Keeping your quiver body safe against his. 
In the darkness behind his shut lashes, he felt it. Your soft caresses his silky tresses and heaving body. Even as your body heaves and quivers in exhaustion, why must you touch him so tenderly?
Why must you be so cruel? If your hands keep caressing his clammy skin, stroking his peeking scales, he’ll misunderstand.
He’ll believe the delusion that you love him.
Him and not the swaying flower fields of the sunkissed surface. 
Whispers cut through the haze of lust and passion, warnings crying for Neuvillette to escape. So he pulls his face from the tangle of sheets, lungs huffing as his eyes find yours.
Exhaustion muddles the hues of your gaze, but not enough to completely smother that glimmer still present. Ah, he knows that that glimmer was. 
Even in his heat-induced daze, he’s not naive enough to believe the sincerity presented in your eyes was anything other than duty.
He doesn’t want to be reminded that those hands, which cup his face with such tenderness, are bound by a sense of duty.
A reminder that he’s merely just a stepping stone on the path of your true desire.
He doesn’t want to see it. 
The head of his cock parting with a deafening squelch. A darkened gaze follows the pool forming between your splayed legs. Disgruntlement muddles lilac hues. 
But such discontent couldn’t last long when the twitch of a neglected length protests. Its bulbous tip longed for its turn within those sticky walls. A primal ordinance he couldn’t resist.
What to call this sensation, to scorn yet desire you just as much. 
It wasn’t long before your hips were maneuvered up, your plush ass now up in the air as your quivering arms and face pressed into the sullied sheets.
As one hand supports your unsteady hips. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your cunt, glistening with temptation and dripping with sin. 
Hooked fingers slides up the weeping slit, collecting the sacrilegious mixture. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Spreading them in front of his gaze, tracing over the stringy nectar stretched between them. 
How strange, those lying lips of yours whimper for ‘rest’ and a ‘moment to catch your breath’. Yet your body is still so eagerly exposing itself to his eyes, agape cunt so eagerly twitching and slick. 
You don’t even try to writhe yourself away from his hold, not even a single attempt to hide yourself from his hunger.
How skilled you are at fanning the flames, perhaps it's a talent inherent to devils like you. The tempter of all tempters. 
You’ve always been like this since the very first rendition. 
If only you weren’t so strong-willed. If only you weren’t so clever to trick him. If only you weren’t so enchanting. 
Then he wouldn’t have bent to your whims, the sea would’ve cleansed out the mortal filth from stolen land. Then he wouldn’t be trapped in this disgrace of a body. Then he wouldn’t be in love with you.
The betrayal, the disgrace, and this punishment would’ve never happened if only a fool didn’t surrender everything for a mere, fleeting creature.
Why must you make him repeat the same mistake again?
There it was again, that surging torrent within him making its voice known in the echoes of his mind. Whispering the hint on how a dragon would defeat the flame that had scorched him those years ago.
Smother the flame with the tides of depravity and vulgarity. Taint your arrogance with shame. 
There wasn’t an ounce of gentleness remaining within his eyes, a beastly hunger taking its place.
Yes, you must pay the debt of reducing him to such a humiliating state.
His neglected cock prods against that greedy cunt of yours. Unmerciful hands bruising the plushness of your hips. 
The sinful concoction from the previous sessions allowed his tormented length into your walls without resistance.
The neglected cock finally indulging in the spasms of your abused walls, it’s its turn to bully those weak spots with its thick head. 
Sobs sung in broken chokes leave your drooling lips. Trembling fingers enmeshed into the fabric as if to find some ground for your senses to land after their fall from euphoria.
He won’t allow you reprieve. No, not even for a moment. He’ll shatter your sanity and arrogance once and for all. 
Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through overstimulation, heavy balls slamming against your swollen lips.
The previous twin cock was now experiencing the hard nub of your engorged clit running along its veins and ridges. 
There’s no room for an exchange of words. No, the two of you have long been pasted that point.
No sandy ground beneath as the two of you sank under the ravenous tides of primal instincts and pleasure.
Cacophonous growls, whimpers, and sobs filling the absence along with the thwacks of skin against skin echoed back from the cellar walls. 
You keen under the ram of his hips, jostled head writhing against the soiled sheets. The motion allows your hair to fall over your shoulders.
Exposing an untainted patch of skin. Sharp pupils watching how beads of sweat trailing down your nape reflect the azure glow of his body. 
An itch assailing his fangs even has his hips continue their barrage against your soft ass. Those lovely vulgar moans wane out from his hearing as his senses could only obsess over the untarnished expanse. 
Ah, what if there’s a way for him to pin you here until the stars themselves burn out? You were given to him as his bride.
An offering made to him.
So why can’t he forever confine you within his clutches? Just as you were the original sin which damned him to this cove.
Long tongue dragging along the fresh skin, feeling the jolts of your body. 
He’s done it once before, he’s cursed you before. Imprinting a curse upon your very soul, one which followed you through the hands of death and even when the hands of life reformed your body from the earth.
Why not renew it? 
Neuvillette pins your upper body further into the tangled bedding, one hand abandoning your hips in favor of raveling in the mess of fabric.
Your heated skin felt against his exhilarated fangs, hungry to sink into your nape. 
‘Till death do us part’, that’s not enough.
Such fleeting mortal oaths are much too meek for dragons.
No, those atrocious murmurs in his thoughts command him to curse you in the next life. And the next one, and the one after that as well. 
It’s not like your muddled head would understand, nothing but mindless prattles and mewls from the suffocating pleasure only he could ever give you.
But that’s fine, just drown nicely in lust and desire. He’ll always be waiting there at the bottom to drag you down deeper. 
Just as the tips of his pointed teeth broke through quivering skin, delicate fingers grasp upon burly a hand.
Intertwining their grasp together upon rumpled linen, a subconscious search for comfort.
An action that remits an iota of reason back to his foggy mind, hazy eyes moving toward the sight of your hand clutched around his. 
Even as he’s ravishing your weeping walls, flooding your body with his filthy essence which trickles down your thighs and ass, and chasing his own carnal needs… you still reach for him.
Shamelessly pulling his touch closer, even when the throes of rapture banished all thought from your jostled mind. 
A whisper resurfaces amidst the fog and clamor of instinct and rage.
However, it’s a whisper which made his incisors dare not budge another inch. The inkling of truth which he thought he had silenced within the depths of his heart. 
The accuracy that this wasn’t love. No, what his instincts craved was not love, it was obsession. 
For love was not this sadistic possession, not to curse you just to ease his own damnation.
No, love is supposed to be much like the warmth of your palm flushed against his knuckles. 
He remembers now, the lesson you taught him all those years ago. A demonstration witnessed with his own eyes.
Love was sacrifice, just as how you offered yourself to the tides, quelling the rage of a vengeful dragon. Because you loved your village too much to allow them to drown. 
Retreating away from the transgression almost committed, fangs repressed behind closed lips. Neuvillette presses a sweet kiss against the shallow wound.
 To love you isn’t to steal you away from the embrace of the star who’s forsaken him. It’s to hoist you up to that beloved sunlight. Just where you belonged. 
Oh, how could he not love you?
The bride offered to a dragon in a white dress who once dared to command the great beast to stand still as she braided flowers into his hair.
A brazenness contrasted with the gentleness of her smile. 
The voices of heart and cruelty rang out in vociferous battle in his mind, Neuvillette buries his face into your shoulder. Pursuing the savor of your skin, pinning you deeper into the tangle of bedding.
Providing more simulation for the pulsing cock wedged against your swollen clit and messy sheets. The neediness of his movements exposed just how close his undoing was. 
The hand on your abdomen pulled you impossibly close, adding pressure to the bulging outline of his cock.
Amplifying the ecstasy coursing through your veins, abused walls clamping down on each ridge and each vein of his heft girth. The shape engrained into your wanton core, marvelous sobs and mewls echoing off the empty walls. 
Soon those moans become shattered in your throat, eyes rolling back further with each heavy thrust and slap of his balls. Lungs cease all function as rapture unravels you wholly and exhilaration becomes your undoing. 
Sloppy contractions mix the repercussions of multitudinous ruination, dripping out your convulsing cunt. Just before a hot surge replenishes the brood that oozed out on the sullied sheets.
Grunts vibrate against your back reminding your body to breathe. 
Thick ropes paint your belly and sheets, making an absolute mess. Contracting walls trying but failing to contain the aftershocks from his cock buried deep within, already stretched to their limits, capacity long exceeded. Shudders rack your body and his the same. 
With hands still entangled, he coaxes your body around. Granting him a mesmerizing view of your debauched face.
The face he’s so enamored with that he bows his down closer, bodies still connected as he wishes to echt every last detail of you into his being. So that eternity may remember you. 
Softness resurfaces in his bones, a tender kiss pressed upon your fingers. Soothing those tremors as he guides your consciousness back to reality. 
He holds you, remaining inside as to contain his greed spilled deep inside. The heftiness of his cock prods against your shuddering walls. Every last fiber of your being overstimulated with pulsing pleasure. 
Yet, your hand refused to let go. Still holding him toward your exhausted figure in the dying light of the candle.
Whimpers and coos exchanging in a duet of devotion, a hymn so placate it quells the vapid torrents ever so slightly.
Placid fingers drawing circles into your sore back. A gentle lilac gaze keeping watch as your teary eyes retire behind heavy lashes. 
Blood and water no matter how much they’re mixed, won’t produce wine.
However, just for tonight in a realm heavy with lust, passion, and phantasm, they’ll craft a wine of delusion. One filled with nothing but wishful fantasy. 
However, this wine of delusion shall be enough to quench the thirst of lascivious compulsions and vengeance. 
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The gentle caresses of steam ghost past your leaden lashes, lukewarm ripples lap against your skin. Your sore body propped up against the porcelain, as Neuvillette drags a dampened towel along your skin. 
A pang of guilt stung him each time the cloth passed over a discolored imprint. No amount of diligent rubs would purify your skin of those bruises in the shape of his fingers. 
A stir from muscle gradually awakening from slumber reflected in the wavelets of the bath. The sensation of a damp towel must’ve further jolted your senses back to alertness. 
A cerulean glow glistens off the polished surface as your vision finally centers on the figure rising warm water over your limp body.
Attentive eyes immediately connect with yours as he scans your expression for discomfort. 
“Are you hurting anywhere?” Neuvillette halts the towel. 
You respond with a slow shake, your throat must be too sore to answer. Despite how he tries to conceal them behind a robe, blotches of azure painted along his fair skin.
Proof that draconic influence was still in rebellion of his body. All the while he’s very much aware of your eye’s every move. What an appalling sight it must be for you. 
“If I make you uncomfortable I’ll leave promptly, this was just the only solution I could find to bathe-”
“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” Voice hoarse as your frame melts closer to his, delicate fingers intertwining with between the spaces of his own scaly fingers.
Allowing your breaths to minge in tandem in the steam-damped tiles of the tranquil bathroom. 
“Does it hurt?” A warm thumb traces soft circles along the rough scales along his hand. 
Did you catch the subtle twitches and jolts of his muscles? A mortal body rejecting draconic influences, draconic influences revolting against a mortal cage. Still, he shakes his head. Lilac gaze watching your eyes trail between the scales and his eyes with skepticism. 
“I’m not quite sure as to why I’m still in this… state.” Neuvillette gives a preemptive answer to the question he assumes to be hanging off your tongue. 
“Do you… miss the sea?” However, it seems you had another inquiry hidden in your ever perplexing mind. 
A deep sigh resonates through the tranquil air. He stares at the tips of his fingers dipped into the warm water, a taunting substitute for the sea that called for him. 
“I suppose it’s natural that I yearn for it…”
A hum was your only response, eyes hidden behind closed lashes. Neuvillette just couldn’t decipher that smile of yours, curled lips reflected over the rippling surface of the steaming water. 
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“Your body is still delicate, please let us return back to the estate-”
“I might actually grow roots into that bed if I’m to rest there any longer.” A pout was evident in your voice. 
Taking a few greater strides, your body pulls in front of Neuvillette’s pace. It was only momentary of course, for he swiftly rejoins your side.
Observant eyes not missing the subtle wobble in your steps along the pastures of the village.
“Please just don’t stray too far.” He relents, offering up his arm for support. 
With a gracious smile, your arm curls around his, interlocking your fingers with his as two pairs of steps ambled along the grass.
Soon a familiar pool of water came into view, enticing two pairs of eyes with its glimmering ripples.
What it strange sight those waters showed, a cursed dragon who yearned for his place and a cursed mortal who longed for the sun, two cursed beings holding hands in the reflection along the pristine surface. 
“I believe this is far enough. ” His arm pulls your frame closer, a subtle hesitance tainting his tone. 
However, your body didn’t budge. Resolute stance not moving even one bit watching your reflection warp and contort in the water. A deep breath echoes off the wall. 
“Neuvillette… do you miss the sea?” Your stare parts with the water, now peering straight into his lilac hues. 
‘Do you miss the sea?’ You’ve asked him this question many times. He's always given a composite response, but maybe his flowery words diluted the meaning too much to your ears. 
“Yes, I do miss the sea.” His candid yearning. 
There was a question his lips didn’t dare ask, ‘Do you miss the sun?’, Neuvillette wanted to riposte your questions with this question of his.
But he knew it would be pointless, for he already knew the answer. Wordlessly written all over your melancholic stare into the pond, the longing to return to the sun, to be with blood and not water. 
To love you, would be to hoist you up to where you longed to be, in the embrace of the warm sun. Neuvillette had thought he made up his resolve long ago.
However, would it be too selfish of him to wish to turn back?
To convince you to back into the tranquil estate where the Melusines await your return with those dishes you taught them how to cook.
Or maybe would at least try on those gowns still untouched? Could you wait until all those books in the library were read through by your sweet voice?
Would you be oh so kind enough to hold his hand just for a moment longer? At the very least, would you allow him to memorize your warmth? 
His grip on your hands tightens ever so briefly, a shaky breath trembles in his chest before he releases it along with the tension in his fingers.
No, it wouldn’t be fair to stall any longer, you deserve your happy ending. 
Calmly, the dragon bows his head closer to yours. Ignoring the aggrieved voices that cried for him to swallow back to secret just about to spill from his tongue.
The ending of this tale won’t ever change, for a dragon is just as foolish as he was before. 
“My true name is-!” His voice was stunned as a pair of soft lips silenced him. 
Your lips pressed against his own, forcing back the secret. His bewildered eyes hone in upon your face, but your lashes were shut as your hands pull his face closer. The resolve wanes from his bones as he sinks into your embrace. 
As your lips pull away, gasping for breath. He places his hands atop yours, searching your face for an answer. All he got was that indecipherable smile. 
Pulling his face down closer to yours again, your lips find themselves right next to his pointed ears. Under a faint breath which left your parted lips came the secret he kept locked away.
Since when? When did you find his name? Or… did you know this whole time? 
Neuvillette reels back in the embrace of your cruel hands. Lilac eyes stare deep into yours, peering through the cracks in that enchanting façade of yours. 
Ah, this whole time, did he not discover the false innocence in the irises of the deceptor of all deceptors? 
A foolish moth fell for the deception of a devil once again, flying to the flicker of a candle until his wings were charred off into ash.
Those sentences written upon parchment weren’t lies, all other monsters fall secondary to the devil. Even a dragon. 
“Why?” Was all he could muster, oh cruel devil why did you play him a fool once more?
“Because I wanted to see you again… but I knew you wouldn’t quite share the same sentiment since the moment I heard your voice… so I lied,” Those audacious eyes of yours never looked away. 
Ah, how could he forget how crafty and observant a devil is with her schemes? The charming enchantment as she performs her deceptions. Speaking shameless lies with those bewitching lips.
“If you wanted to see me… then that day at the loch… why weren’t you there?” The stir of the torrent within put a snarl into his throat.
Why must you keep lying to him? 
Ah, from the start, Neuvillette should’ve listened to the clamorous cries of his instincts. To withdraw away from the flame, to extinguish the hell fires before they left another lesson learned upon his skin.
Yet, he’s still within the embrace of your cruel hands. His body just wouldn’t pull away. 
Just what is this level of stupidity called? For a moth to still crave the warmth of the flame which charred its wings into ash. Just what is this lunacy called? 
“The nobles locked me away after those tyrants stole your name from my tongue, they locked me away.” Torment brewing in those irises which reflected him. 
A chill staggers the surge of the torrent, an icy sting which stupefied the rampaging currents.
For generations upon generations of scribes and poets never penned this detail down in any rendition of a classically beloved tale. 
“I begged them, I banged against the bars of the cell, even clawed at the stone walls until my fingers were raw, but they left me there to rot in the cold… I just wanted to see you one last time, just once more.” Those bitter pools formed in your penitent eyes spill over. 
This wasn’t how the tale was supposed to end. The maiden, who deceived a dragon for her people, was supposed to be hailed a hero. You were supposed to have a happy ending, so why didn't you get that? 
“All I ever wanted was for you and me to walk amongst humanity… look where that got us…” Tears descend from your cheeks and onto the grass below, a humorless chuckle. 
Was this another lie falling from those saccharine lips of yours? Sugar dusted on the shell of a vile trick? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore. 
“That foolish wish of mine… it must’ve been so painful. I’m so sorry.” Your thumb traces over the scales dotted over his cheek, evidence of a draconic rebellion against a mortal condemnation. 
Does your touch scorn or soothe him? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore. 
“I’m sorry. I’ll say sorry one thousand times if you wish.” A tremor in your voice.
The surge within him couldn’t sustain itself, faltering and receding back to a placid, pathetic ripple. Perhaps… It's tired.
Tired of holding onto this futile grudge. Not when the bitter answers its tides were ravenous for had finally sunk in. 
He takes a deep breath, collecting his resolve. 
“...what… what do you wish for?” Just how will this rendition end? Neuvillette doesn’t know. 
But he knows his hands should hold onto yours, desperately etching the details of your tender touch into its memory. Rations to sustain him for the rest of a solitary eternity. 
He hears your slow inhale, preparing your throat to speak your selfish desires. 
“I wish for your curses to become mine alone to bear.” You reveal your selfish wish, pressing the voucher of freedom into his hands. 
He had that look on his face again. Disbelief stupefied each muscle of his dashing face, wide eyes peering into yours trying to find the hint of a jest. Your gaze doesn’t waiver as your finger tightens around his. 
“Grant me my wish… please.” Lips stretching with a reassuring smile.
His lips press into a thin line, face returning to its place between your warm hands, he takes a deep breath. Perhaps it’s just his sense of responsibility and fairness that compelled him to fulfill this wish. 
Or maybe, the dragon just couldn’t help but submit to the whims of his beloved, a statement that remained no matter what rendition of the tale it was.  
Releasing the breath he held, the shift in the air was palpable, a lightness in his chest. The pond off to the side billows momentarily, drawing focus toward its excited ripples.
Releasing his hold, feet leading him to the side of the saltwater before his mind could process his own actions. 
He could hear it again, the hymns of the water singing the end of his exile. Reaching out a hand, it sinks past the cool surface, the tides welcoming back their prince with mellow kisses. 
The ocean calls for him, so why is he still staring back at you? The one who’ll never embrace the sea again for the rest of her life, nor ever feel the sway of Summer days in a field full of Pluie Lotus. His eyes conveyed a question his lips couldn’t bear to ask. Thus, you give the answer he seeks. 
 “Think of it as my reparations to you, an overdue apology for my mistake, for making you to suffer so much.” That glimmer in your eyes, one he understands now. 
Moving the hex to a body whose true master was the mistress of time, a body blessed with mortality. If a miracle isn’t enough to make a curse break, then perhaps the tides of time could. 
Taking a piece of the curse with each tick of a clock, just like how the waves take with it grains of sand from warm beaches. 
Once a withered mortal body is called back to the earth, the clauses will be fulfilled after many centuries. Unsettled grudges eroded away like those sandy banks. 
Until the pull of the ground makes its visible influence on your skin. Until your locks come to resemble the snowy shade you’ve lovingly run your fingers through. Until the sweet earth hums for you to embrace it once more, you shall remain here. 
What a clever scheme it all is, a masterful plan which could only ever be conjured by you. You devil, oh so devious, devil. 
“You can hate me, I won't hold it against you,” you whisper. “May this tale end in your happiness, let me do this much for you.”
A bitter bile festers at those lies of yours. How could such lies fall from your lips so easily when they always left such a vile taste upon his tongue?
Gaze honed in upon your frame, watching the gentle smile hold back the slight quiver of your shoulders. He stands back up, slow strides returning him to your side. Taking your hands into his larger ones, placing your soft touch back along his cheeks. 
“Silence… I won’t hear such deceit.” Snowy locks brushing against your fingertips.
“But I wasn’t lying…” Confusion furrows your brow, but your hands remain cupping his face.
Moving away, he studies the rivulets of regret and anguish that leave bitter trails down your cheeks. He swallows back the objections clawing up his throat, such vile words don’t belong on your tongue. 
“How could I hate you?” he confesses. 
Neuvillette has finally come to a realization. All those renditions, all those differing retellings of a classic tale. He had read them all wrong, basis clouding his interpretation. 
For the princess did love her dragon. Just as he loved her, all this time. 
Together in the depths of a cave away from the prying eyes of the divine. Breaths in time with one another as they stand in the embrace of one another, until the dragon bows his head back down.
Touching his forehead to hers, so that maybe Neuvillette could get a glimpse into that ever mystical mind of yours. 
“How can I ever hate what I’ve coveted for so long?” He asks. 
That ever-stirring torrent, that spiteful surge, where did it go? Those clamorous voices with their vengeful snarls and cynical bellows, why weren’t they intrepid enough to direct those foul words toward you? 
Not you, never you. How could they ever hate you, the heroine of a Fontainian fairytale they’ve pitifully yearned for so long? 
“Am… am I loved then?” Your lashes were squeezed shut as if death was rapping upon them. Too cowardly to face the verdict. 
“Yes… yes, you devious devil…” Neuvillette couldn’t help but chuckle at such an endearing sight.
He feels your fingers tense around his skin, astonishment in the features of your face. It soon melts away into those welling pools as a smile pushes against the corners of your eyes. 
Pressing your forehead to his, a warm droplet rolls down your cheek and over the curve of your lips. He simply rests his head against yours.
Only now in the last sentence of this retelling of a tale which has been twisted, distorted, and embellished away from the initial narrative did an unwritten truth emerge. 
A clever maiden was just as foolish as a proud dragon. The weight of their foolishness was so great it dragged them beneath the waves and kept them in a cove deep away from the prying eyes of gods. 
However, if this idiotic dragon could intertwine his fingers with yours. If he could be by your side until the hands of time call you back to the earth in this final rendition. 
If he could be the happy ending you deserved, then he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. 
Fin~
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 
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papercorgiworld · 3 months
Text
I think it was love at first sight
Mattheo, Theo, Blaise, Draco and Enzo
You overhear the guys say they’ve been in love with you since the day they met you.
Warning? 10% foul language. 90% fluff. 100% cringe? Maybe. But let's just accept the cringe and live a happy life.
Based on this ask. I hope it’s okay? Happy readings!
Feedback is always welcome!
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You were new at Hogwarts and your nerves were wrecking you, but you were lucky to have met Pansy on one of her good days. “Let me introduce you to some of my friends.”
There is no such thing as love at first sight. He repeated the thought again and again, because your smile, your voice, your eyes, the small details of your skin, your figure and the lovely way you introduced yourself… it was messing with his head.
***
You had planned to stay in your dorm for the evening so you could study, but your brain just wouldn’t have it. Finally giving up you decide to head up to the astronomy tower to clear your head. You hear whispers and quietly move up the stairs curious to find out who it is, but before you reach the top you hear your name and stop in your tracks.
Mattheo
“I hate (y/n)! She is so annoying. Constantly asking for attention.” You immediately recognise Mattheo’s loud voice and your heart gets squeezed tight at his angry words. “She’s the quietest girl in our year.” Theo’s calm voice relaxes you. “She’s infuriating!” Theodore chuckles. “I know being reasonable isn’t in your genes, but you’re seriously overreacting, Matt.” Mattheo groans, but seems to calm down a bit. “She’s constantly in mind, it drives me mad.” There’s a silence as Theodore takes a drag from his cigarette. “It’s not her fault, you’re falling for her.” Mattheo takes a few steps back as a defense mechanism. “I’m not falling for her.” Theo stares at Mattheo and Mattheo clenches his jaw, until he can no longer keep it in. “Fuck! I’m in love with her.” Theodore can not hide his amusement as Mattheo curses himself.
“No, seriously Theo, it’s not funny. It’s disgusting. I’ve caught myself thinking about how many children we should have. I’m turning into freaking Enzo, all sweet and giddy.” You bite your lip and feel yourself heat up as Mattheo mentions having children with you. “No worries, you’re not turning into Enzo, you still curse too much.” Mattheo sits down clearly not knowing what to do with himself. “You really have it bad for her?” Mattheo nods and chews on his lip. “Ever since Pansy introduced her to us at the beginning of the year, she’s just- she became my whole world.” It is then that Theodore spots you and an apologetic look forms on your face as you realize you've been caught eavesdropping. Mattheo doesn’t notice the silent interaction between you and Theo as he stares down. “I hate it, because I know I don’t stand a chance with her.” When Theodore doesn’t say anything Mattheo looks up at him. “Do you think I have a chance with her?”
Theodore’s eyes jump from Mattheo to you and back. “Why don’t you ask her yourself.” Theodore says as he signals to the stairs. Your flustered figure appears and Mattheo quickly scrambles to his feet as his heart starts racing at the thought that you might have heard something, leave alone everything. “How-how long have you..?” He leaves you with only half a question and you’re surprised to see this insecure side of Mattheo, but now it’s time for you to fess up. "Quite some time.” Mattheo’s eyes fill with panic and he turns to Theo. “Just throw me off of the astronomy tower, I beg you.” Theodore laughs. “I’ll do you one better, I’m going to leave you two alone.”
With Theodore gone you’re both forced to look at eachother. Mattheo’s hands hide in the pockets of his pants as he nonchalantly makes his way over to you. “So, assuming you’ve heard my whole uhm- rant or confession. Let’s just skip to the last bit, do I have a chance?” He stops only inches from you and adores your blushed cheeks. You rest your hand on his arm and slowly move into him to place a most innocent kiss on his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since Pansy introduced me to you.” In an instant Mattheo is back to being his confident grinning self. He closes the last bit of distance and his hands find their way to your hips. “Also, two children.” You quip and Mattheo smiles, leaning in for an intense kiss. “I was thinking, four.” You laugh at his ambition. “Up for debate."
Theodore
“(Y/n), she thinks she’s some wise ass, but I’ve seen her look at my notes during class.” Enzo just nods, slightly annoyed he had to listen to Theodore complain about you again. You hold your breath as you carefully listen. “And she studies a ridiculous amount to get the same grades as me, so obviously she’s not that smart.” Enzo hums pretending to agree, but he can’t resist a snarky comment. “Too bad Slughorn disagrees with you.” Theo’s eyes roll to Enzo. Who’s side is he on? “Well, she’s dating that Fred guy, so she’s clearly dumb.” Enzo sighs. “They’re just friends.” “Really?” Theodore asks with obvious interest in his voice. Enzo nods. “Good. She’s too pretty and intelligent for a Weasley.” Theodore snares and watches the cigarette between his fingers. “You know the other day some weirdo Gryffindor tried to-“ Enzo sighs. “Ask her out? Yes, you told me. Do you know how often you talk about her?”
Theo frowns as he looks at Enzo’s bored expression. “I know.” Theodore admits and sighs. “It’s just ever since we met her at the beginning of the year, she's been on my mind all the time.” Lorenzo stares at Theodore's defeated face. He was the last guy to talk like this, so Enzo knew it was serious. “She is really beautiful, so it isn’t that much of a surprise.” Theo leans his head back. “It’s not just that. It’s like I want her around all the time as much of a wise ass she can be sometimes. When she isn’t around everything’s just empty.” Enzo stares at Theo and when he notices he immediately shakes his head. “No. It’s not what you think.” Lorenzo can’t help but laugh. “It so is!” “No.” Theo tries to protest. “You are so head over heels for (y/n).” Enzo can no longer hide his amusement and a soft laugh rings through the astronomy tower. “Yes, maybe.” Theo reluctantly admits. “Kinda, have been wanting to ask her out. I even have this whole romantic thing planned out.” Enzo’s happy grin gets on Theodore’s nerves, but he can’t help it. “This is so embarrassing. Enzo, promise me you won’t tell anyone that I’ve been in love with (y/n) since the day I met her.”
Hearing Theo say those words have you gasp and you quickly cover your mouth with your hand. Worried that they might have heard you, you take a step back, but the stairs end up making a lot more noise and you curse yourself. “Someone there?” You hear Enzo call as he comes into view at the top of the stairs. You smile sheepishly. “Who-“ Theo falls silent as pure horror fills his eyes when he sees your blushing face. “Look at the time. I’ve got places to be, bye.” Enzo jumps past you, hurrying down the stairs, but not before giving you a cheeky wink.
When Enzo’s gone you look back at the top of the stairs to see that Theodore has disappeared. You walk up to see him look at the stars as he lights a new cigarette. “Soo, how much did you hear?” He asks as he breathes out. “Enough, but I’m mostly interested in that romantic date you had planned out.” Theo looks you over from head to toe, wary of whether you were messing around or being serious. He gets rid of the cigarette and walks towards you. He loves how your curious eyes follow him and Theo brushes a strand of hair out of your face, carefulling tucking it behind your ear. “I know this small café that’s also a bookstore and there’s cats.” You gasp in excitement, already loving the idea. “But first you have to survive dinner with me.” You purse your lips as you pretend to think it over. “I’ll give it a try, for the cats and the books obviously.” You reach for Theo’s hands and squeeze them as he gets a little annoyed with your playfulness.
“Why must you be such a wise ass?” You smile at him with adoring eyes. “Can’t help it.” You gently push yourself up on your toes to kiss him. The little agitation that was boiling inside of Theo immediately ebbs away as he feels your warmth. It doesn’t take long for Theo’s fire and hunger for you to take over. His hand finds the back of your head keeping you in place as he deepens the kiss sending shivers down your spine.
Blaise
“You think (y/n) and that Weasley guy are a thing?” Blaise asks, pulling Mattheo from his book. Blaise crouches down next to Mattheo who was sitting against a pillar. “Don’t think so.” Mattheo shrugs, but watches Blaise stare in front of him in deep thought. “Why? You interested in her?” Mattheo questions as he wiggles his eyebrows. Blaise looks at Mattheo’s grinning face and throws his head to the side a bit, wondering if he could confide in his friend. “Promise me you won’t laugh.” Blaise’s seriousness has Mattheo close his book. “Sure.” “Ever since we met her on the train that day…” Mattheo silently waits, not blinking, but it takes Blaise a while to find the words and courage. “Damn it, I’m so in love with her.” Blaise is surprised and somewhat relieved that he could finally admit it to himself. “I said don’t laugh.” Mattheo throws his hands up in the air. “I’m not laughing. I’m smiling. I think you two look cute together.”
Blaise rolls his eyes but can’t help, but wonder. Really? “Most of the time I feel like we’re opposites, and yet at the same time I think she’s the greatest person alive. She brings a little sunshine every day. But she’s also weird.” Blaise looks at Mattheo for an opinion. “Dude, all girls are weird.” Blaise nods in agreement. “Yeah, but she's, like, crazy weird.” Mattheo’s typical filthy grin appears. “But she’s hot, though.” Blaise shakes his head. “No, she’s not just hot, she’s beautiful.” This time Mattheo can’t help himself and laughs. “You are sooo in loooove with her.” He sings and Blaise gives him a little shove.
Blaise gets up, embarrassed with himself now that Mattheo is teasing him, and heads for the stairs. As soon as you notice he’s coming your way you try to turn around as quickly as possible, but it’s no use. “(Y/n)?” With a guilty face you turn around. “I wasn’t listening.” Mattheo jumps up and joins Blaise, he can barely keep it together as his eyes sparkle with humor. “She totally heard everything. I’m leaving.” You chew on your lip as you look at your feet, while Mattheo passes you.
Blaise runs his hand over his face trying to calm himself down and you smile softly, feeling guilty. It really was wrong of you to listen in on their conversation. “I did hear everything.” You admit as you walk towards him. “Do you think I’m some weird obsessed guy now?” You laugh and shake your head. “No, apparently I’m the crazy weird one.” Blaise gives you an apologetic smile. “I said that, but I also said you were beautiful.” You lay your hand on his shoulder. “I also heard you say you’ve been in love with me since the day we met.” The slytherin in front of you slowly nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “Which is crazy a coincidence, since that happens to be the same day as I fell for you.” Blaise is surprised to hear that, but quickly closes the last bit of space between you two and rests a hand on the small of your back. “That’s a bizarre coincidence.” You hum in response as you both lean towards one another. The kiss starts slowly, but quickly turns fiery.
“I never believed in love at first sight, until you.” Blaise mutters as he rests his head against yours. “That’s really skeptical coming from someone who attends a magical school.” He smiles and pulls you in for a sweet and loving kiss.
Draco
Draco sits and stares at a shiny green apple, dwelling in deep thoughts about you and him. “Do you think (y/n) is interesting?” Blaise turns against the railing of the astronomy tower and frowns at Draco’s odd question. “You’ve been staring at that apple for too long.” Draco rolls his eyes, not pleased that his friend isn’t taking his question seriously. “I feel like (y/n) is fresh air to me and that’s been bothering me since the day we met.” This time Blaise takes Draco seriously. “What exactly are you saying?” Draco looks away from his apple. “She makes everything better and I always need more of her, her attention, her opinions, her stories, her soft caring attitude. It’s never too much. Before I met her I’ve never been this curious about someone, never wanted to be around someone so bad.”
Your heart swells at Draco’s sweet words, but of course Draco had to say something stupid. “Which is weird, because she’s not that interesting.” Blaise’s eyebrows knit together for a moment, before letting out a soft chuckle. “You are definitely interested in her, that’s for sure.” Draco scoffs. “No, it’s not like that… is it? Shit, you think? I’m so in love with that… idiot.” Blaise laughs. “Idiot? Just a minute ago she was fresh air?” Draco just glares at Blaise who tries his best to hide his smile.
“You should tell her.” Blaise suggests. “Tell her what exactly? Oh hey (y/n), fun fact, I’ve been crushing on you since day one, please love me.” You smile at what an utter idiot Draco is and decide to immediately shut him up by walking up to him. Blaise is the first to spot you and his eyes go crazy wide. “That indeed is a fun fact.” You say, making Draco spin around to see if he recognised your voice right. Blaise takes Draco’s apple from his perplexed figure and heads for the stairs. “See you guys tomorrow.” He says casually and you smile at him, but Draco doesn’t move.
“You shouldn’t be eavesdropping.” Draco manages to say after a few seconds of silence and you roll your eyes. You take a few steps towards him and start playing with his tie. “You’re an idiot, Draco.” He nods and admires how your fingers play with his tie. “I’m an idiot, but please love me.” Draco breathes out and you meet his eyes, surprised by his sudden courage even if it took the form of a desperate plea. His hands gently move over your arms until he wraps his hands around yours, squeezing them softly. “I’ve already been loving you since day one.” You confess and a surprised smirk tugs on Draco lips. “Seriously?” You nod and move into him. He’s still a little shocked and it takes him a second to kiss back, but the passion makes up for the wait.
Enzo
“You know, I was thinking about (y/n). And I was wondering- Do you believe in love at first sight?” Draco stares at Enzo, wondering where the hell the others are. Realizing that there was no else to answer Lorenzo’s question, Draco rolls his eyes and thinks about it for a second. “You’re asking the wrong person. I don’t even know if I believe in love.” Enzo frowns. “That’s just depressing.” Draco huffs. “But what does that have to do with (y/n)?” Draco’s question gets Enzo a bit flustered and he tries to play it cool, just lifting his shoulders. “Nothing.” Draco raises an eyebrow and chuckles. “You’ve got to be the worst liar at Hogwarts.” Enzo acts like he doesn’t know what Draco’s talking about.
“Come on, spill it, Berkshire.” Draco snaps, but Lorenzo is used to his attitude and ignores it, happy to talk about his worries. “Look, do you think (y/n) would freak out if I told her I had been obsessing about her since Pansy first introduced us.” Draco thinks for a moment. “What do you mean by ‘obsessing’?” You take a step closer so you’re sure to hear what Lorenzo has to say next. He takes a deep breath. “You know, nothing out of the ordinary. Just… I was thinking of a spring wedding, some small town by the beach kinda honeymoon, a classical house with a big garden for the creatures and five kids, you know that kinda stuff.” Draco honestly doesn’t know what to say. “Do you think she’ll run in the other direction if she hears this?” Draco nods. “Enzo, you’ve officially lost it. She’ll definitely run in the other direction.” Disappointment washes away Lorenzo's excited smile.
“No. She won’t.” You say softly as you make yourself known. Lorenzo’s eyes go wide as he sees you. “I think it’s sweet and I do believe in love at first sight.” You continue as you walk towards a blushing Enzo. “You two are disturbingly perfect for one another.” Draco jokes and Lorenzo glares, making Draco raise his hands in defense. “You give the absolute worst advice ever. Now get out of here.” While muttering some complaints Draco leaves you two alone and you can’t help but laugh. “You ask Draco for love advice?” With a sheepish expression Enzo raises his shoulder. “I was desperate. I was so worried you would freak out, but I also couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. (Y/n), ever since-“ You don’t let him finish and just kiss him like you’ve wanted to do since you met him.
Lorenzo doesn’t waste any time wrapping his arms around you and deepening the kiss. “I’m so freaking in love with you Enzo Berkshire.” He lifts you off the floor as he again locks his lips with yours. “I think we’re simping for each other.” You laugh and nod in agreement. “Definitely.”
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norrizzandpia · 5 months
Note
I JUST READ You Were Never What I Wanted AND NOW I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE
IT WAS SO GOOD
IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART (if u decide to post it)
YOURE WRITING IS AMAZING <333
Yall ask and yall shall receive! Part 1 link if you need it <3
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But I Need You Now (You Were Never What I Wanted, Part 2) (LN4)
Summary: In the aftermath of Lando and Y/n, Lando makes it his personal mission to show Y/n that it wasn’t fake. Their PR stunt might’ve started out as a lie, but it was love for him and he knows it was for her too.
Warnings: language, angsty, FLUFF AT THE END BITCHES AS AN APOLOGY FOR THE HELL I PUT YOU THROUGH WITH THESE TWO-PARTERS, sexual conversations
Note: see what I did with the title… 😏 You were never what I wanted, but I need you now 🤭 also i made this less angsty as an apology again 👹
Y/n goes home for a few days.
The news spreads throughout the paddock like a virus, being whispered in every person’s ear. When it gets back to Lando, he stands in the midst of the chaos in McLaren’s garage.
Jon leaves his hand on Lando’s shoulder in a comforting manner, knowing something happened between them, but not knowing the specific details.
“She left?” He says lowly, voice wavering as he tries to gain control of it.
Jon nods, “I’m afraid so.”
“What about the race?” He asks, hands clenching at his sides.
“She’s having the reserve driver take her place. You know that.” Jon gives him a confused look.
Lando shakes his head, “No, I get that, but how could she just give up on it?”
Jon sighs and Lando can tell his trainer doesn’t want to tell him the next bit of information. He does anyway, “I heard she was pretty distraught after that gala a week ago. Apparently, she was sobbing and the valet had to help her call a cab. She was a mess, I gather, no one knows why.”
I do, he thinks. I know why, Lando thinks.
Lando abandons the conversation, not wanting to hear anymore about the girl he loves.
She plagues his dreams, his nightmares, his delusions, his thoughts, he doesn’t need her to infiltrate his life anymore.
🏎️
“What’s the problem?” He asks an hour later when Jon treats him like he’s about to have a mental breakdown at any moment.
His trainer eyes him suspiciously, gently, “Nothing,”
Lando groans, arms flying out beside him before smacking down back at his sides, “Jon, cut the bullshit. You’ve been treating me like I’m a fucking baby all day. Why?”
Jon sighs, turning to look at him before grabbing his arm and pulling them out of the garage. Jon forces them into a random hallway always away from the commotion and publicity, looking at Lando softly, “What happened between you and Y/n?”
Suddenly, Lando’s defensive. The mention of her name makes his skin crawl and his heart clench, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You two were dating.”
Lando rolls his eyes, “We were not dating. We were a PR stunt. You know that, Jon.”
Jon stares him down, “You two were dating.”
The meaning of his words hits Lando, what Jon truly is trying to address. He’s drowning in the mistakes of his own actions and the love he developed for her, no way to explain his way out of the situation with Jon looking at him knowingly.
He folds his arms over his chest, “Maybe in the end.”
Jon’s face scrunches up in confusion, “In the end? Of course, you were. Did you sleep together?”
“Fuck, no!” Lando yelps, astonishment at Jon’s bluntness, a trait the man has never had when it came to his romantic relationships.
Jon shakes his head, confusion deepening, “Then how the fuck did you two end up where you are? How did you end up in this mess? Which you still have not told me about.”
He sighs, head falling to stare at his shoes, “I fell in love with her. She fell in love with me. Well, at least I think.”
Jon, the man so incredibly lost, looks blankly at Lando, “You fell in love. With Y/n. Y/l/n. The woman you used to absolutely detest. The woman who used to hate your guts. You two fell in love with each other?”
Lando nods, “I know how it sounds, but it happened.”
Jon’s head tilts to the side, “Okay, and what happened the night of the gala?”
Jon sees the shift of Lando’s demeanor, his entire body running cold with images of her walking out on him. The boy’s body running cold, he tries to get through the night that ruined it all, “Everything was fine in the beginning. We were just talking to a bunch of donors. You know, we got so many that night. Anyways, we were at the bar and being stupid as always, getting drunk, when Lu showed up.”
“Lu as is your ex?” Jon clarifies.
Lando nods, “Yeah, so she came up to us and we just got to talking. She mentioned the fact that we still talk.”
Jon’s mouth falls open, “You and Lu still talk?!”
“Not anymore, not after the gala. She basically cut off contact with me because she ‘hated the way it made her feel when she saw the look on Y/n’s face’. But, at that time, we had been. I should’ve told Y/n when we started getting serious, but I didn’t and that came back to bite me in the ass because she was so betrayed, Jon.”
“So, she walked out of the gala because she was angry about you and Lu?”
“Yeah, she basically told me I didn’t care about her in the way she thought I had, which wasn’t true. I told her I loved her and then shit just went completely downhill after that.”
Jon’s hand squeezes Lando’s arm, “You told her you loved her?”
There’s a flash of sadness in Lando’s eyes and Jon knows it’s because of the painful rejection. He’s learning that Y/n might’ve started out as one of the people Lando cared about the least, but she had quickly become the center of his entire world.
“Of course, I did. But, she didn’t believe me. I don’t blame her too! The start of our relationship was built specifically on hatred. We never wanted anything to do with each other and then, all of a sudden, we were kissing and it was feeling like something more.”
A silence passes before Lando whispers, “Sometimes I wish I never would’ve met her.”
Jon chuckles, “You’ve said that before.”
Lando scoffs, “Yeah, but that was because I hated her. This is because I can’t deal with the fact that she left me.”
“Have you tried to talk to her?” Jon inquires, eyes roaming Lando’s face in search of an answer.
“No,” Lando responds, grief and remorse soaking his tone.
“Well, maybe that’s where you need to start.” Jon smiles.
“In order to do what?” Lando’s lost on the insinuation.
“In order to get her back.”
It’s heartbreaking the way Lando stares up at Jon as if he’d just single-handedly restored all senses of hope and happiness into his body, “You think I can do that?”
“I think that you and her loved each other too much to let it go to waste this way.”
Maybe you’re right, he thinks. Maybe I need to find out for myself, he thinks.
Y/n, the girl he hated so much for the love she made him feel, was locked up in her room of her childhood home, information Lando gained from her mother who he had called quietly. It was the first time they had spoken, but it wasn’t the first time she had heard of him. Her daughter had shown up in the middle of the night, sobbing to her over a boy and berating herself for allowing a man to hurt her in the way he had.
However, with the undying kindness Y/n shared, she had patiently heard Lando out as he explained to her the feelings he harbored for her daughter. Strong words of love had persuaded her into giving Lando their address and giving him permission to come. After all, she saw the way her daughter’s Lock Screen lit up with a loving picture of them every time Y/n got a notification. She clocked the picture as the room where Y/n had been hospitalized after her crash, Lando laying on the bed beside her with his arm wrapped safely around her shoulders, a kiss to her cheek as she smiled at the camera.
Bags packed and in hand, Lando stands in front of her house, hood pulled over his head with sunglasses shoved over his eyes. He takes two steps at a time, bypassing multiple steps in the process as he reaches the front door in no time.
Knocking on the wood, Lando waits patiently before the lock is turning and her mother is appearing before him. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she smiles softly at him, a smile resembling the one Y/n had adorned him with before he made her feel less than the most important person in his life.
“Hi, Ms. Y/l/n. Thank you for this.” He says quietly, not wanting Y/n to hear him and get scared.
She nods at him, opening the door and letting him step in, “As much as you hurt my daughter, I think this space is effecting her worse.”
He lingers in the doorway, nerves getting to him as he stares at the steps in front of him, steps he assumes would lead him to her.
Her mother notices his eyes, “She’s up there if you want to go.”
He takes a step toward them, but takes on back and looks at her with tension in his face, “Do you think she’ll want to see me?”
Her mother’s head moves side to side, “I think, at first, she’ll be mad, but she’ll warm up. I know she still loves you, that’s still there.”
He nods, “What should I say?”
His words relay quietly and her mother lays a hesitant hand on his arm, “Why are you here? Why are you fighting for her?”
His answer comes easily, “Because I love her. Because, after years of hating each other, I realize that I never truly, fully hated her. I hated that she was better than me and the fact that she was winning races more than I was, but I never hated her. I never gave her a chance to show me who she was and it took someone forcing us to be together for me to see how amazing she is. I’m remorseful for that, of course, but I’m happy it happened. If it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have realized the happiness that was standing in front of me all along.”
Her mother smiles brightly at him, “Tell her that.”
🏎️
The door creaks as Lando pushes it open, head poking in to see her laying with her back to him.
“Mom, can I just have some time alone right now?” Her broken voice whispers, curling further into herself as Lando steps in and closes the door.
He doesn’t say anything, opting to walk over to her bed and sit down. The mattress is larger, putting space between them so he’s not touching her.
“I can hear you breathing. Please leave.” She says again, this time pleading desperately.
Lando exhales before lifting his hand and laying it on her hip, his thumb rubbing soft circles lovingly. He feels her body tense, her head looking down to inspect the fingers wrapped around her skin.
She pulls away quickly, sitting up and whipping her head around to meet his eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing here?! You should be at the race!” She yells at him, shifting farther away from him.
He hates how tired she looks, how puffy her eye bags are from a mixture of exhaustion and tears. His body turns to completely face hers, his leg being pulled onto the bed, “Your mom gave me the address and I got the reserve driver to cover for me.”
Y/n scoffs, “Okay, why would my mother do that?”
“Because she knows I love you.”
Y/n’s eyes glaze over, iciness translating in her every move, “How would she know that?”
“I called her.” He states simply, watching her eyebrows stitch together.
Her head tilts, “How did you get her number?”
“From Nick.”
Y/n body rears back, “My trainer?! You coerced my trainer into giving you my mother’s phone number?! Are you fucking crazy?!”
“For you, yes.” He smiles softly. His comment earns an eye roll.
“Y/n, just listen to me.” He begins, but Y/n raises her hands in objection.
“No, Lando. Leave me alone. I appreciate the effort, but leave.” Her hands push his arms, doing nothing to move him.
He gently takes her hands in his and shifts closer to her, “No. I’m not leaving until you hear what I have to say.”
Knowing how stubborn he is, Y/n sits back and gestures for him to continue.
“When I first met you, I hated the success you had.” He starts.
Y/n laughs, “What a great start!”
“Let me finish.” He states, “I hated the success you had and I was dumb enough, young enough to think that meant I hated you too. So, I spent years resenting everything that had to do with you. I never gave myself one moment to reflect on the reasoning for my dislike of you. If I had, we wouldn’t be here right now. Part of me hates that, hates that I spent so much time treating you in a way you never deserved, but another part of me, the part that has fallen so hard for you, is happy it didn’t. If I had realized that I was just jealous of the race wins you were claiming, I would’ve been cordial with you, never getting close enough to get to know who you are out of the envy I held against you. If it had gone down that way, I would’ve never gotten to meet you. And I mean the person you really are, underneath all the PR trained, guarded skin. I would’ve never fallen in love with you, never experienced you and the happiness you have provided me with. It took us so long to get here, through hurtful insults and screaming matches, I can’t let you slip through my fingers, your love with it, because of my stupid mistakes. I won’t let that happen.”
Y/n stays quiet after he completes his last sentence, staring at him as she decides what she wants to do next.
Softly, she says, “Why didn’t you tell me about Lu?”
He sighs disappointedly, “I don’t know. Truthfully, I didn’t think it meant that much. In my head, I didn’t love her. I was just ending a relationship on good terms. I didn’t think far enough to get to you. I’m sorry for that. If I could go back and sit you down, explain to you what Lu and I were doing, the fact that it meant nothing compared to what I feel towards you, I would. You deserve that conversation. I don’t know if that means anything to you, but I hope it does. She was never going to mean the same thing to me as she had before after I first kissed you. Truthfully, she never did mean the same thing to me as you do. I’ve never felt this way for anyone before.”
Y/n nods slowly, gathering her thoughts, “When did you start loving me? When did it stop being hate? Because that night at the gala, at the end of our conversation, you hated me again.”
Lando shakes his head, “First of all, I didn’t hate you that night. I was just hurt and it translated to something ugly, which I can’t apologize enough for. Second of all, I don’t know when I genuinely started loving you, but I know I realized it when you crashed. When I was running throughout the paddock, I could not get away from the heavy pit in my stomach that only pointed toward one thing, I knew that. I tried to push it away, tried to forget about it, but when I saw you laying there, bandaged and alive, it just hit me. I loved that you were still there, I loved the relief that spread through me, I loved the happiness I felt when I saw you breathing, and, then, I just loved you. It built exactly like that. I was just listing the things, in my head, I adored about the moment in order to get away from the severity of it, and then it was just you. You, you, you, you.”
Y/n’s small smile graces his eyes and he moves closer to her, sitting with his legs folded on the bed and his hands over her thighs. The two of them breathe each other in before Y/n is shuffling closer to him. His arms immediately move from her legs to snake around her torso, folding open his legs and pulling her into him. She lays her shoulder against his chest, her head falling to the side to nuzzle in his neck as her legs spread in front of her, lying over his thigh. She plays with the hem of his hoodie as he kisses her temple, laying his head on top of hers.
“You know, I love you too.” She says into his neck. A warmth spreads through Lando, happiness buzzing all the way down to his toes at her confession.
It’s all he’s ever wanted to hear, “I had an inkling.”
She lightly smacks his stomach, giggling, “Don’t be a smart ass.”
Just as he’s about to rebuttal, his phone begins vibrating harshly in his back pocket. His arm reaches around to pull it out, Jon’s face illuminating the screen.
Y/n laughs, “Can I answer it?”
The idea makes him shine with pride, knowing Jon will be proud to hear Lando’s gotten his girl back. So, he plops the phone in her lap with a smile.
Clicking the green button, Y/n puts it on speaker.
“Lando? Did you get there okay? Have you spoken to her yet?” Jon’s rushed voice says quickly.
Y/n gives Lando a playful look before answering, “He got here okay.”
There’s a silence before Jon is cackling, “AHA! IS HE THERE?! LANDO, I TOLD YOU!”
The couple laughs at his antics, Lando moving closer to the speaker to say, “I’m here and I’m starting to think I should listen to you more.”
There’s shuffling on the other end of the phone before they hear Jon screaming to, what they assume is, the entire McLaren garage, “LANDO AND Y/N, GUYS!”
Again, silence, murmuring even, before the entire room erupts in cheers. Lando can hear it’s just his crew, the group of men knowing how much it stressed Lando out to have her mad at him, the reason she was, they didn’t know.
Y/n and Lando break into tears over their laughter at the men on the other end of the phone. It’s therapeutic to see her laughing in his arms again, a sight Lando didn’t think he would see again.
She’s leaning into him as the men continue to cheer, holding him as her body racks with laughter and all he can do is hold her closer, tighter.
He holds her like she’ll leave him again if he lets go, a thought he knows is so preposterous. Because she’s got her eyes closed, blissed out in his presence and he can see the lines of tension wither away.
She’s safe with him, she shows that through the way she hugs him and softly kisses the side of his neck when he ends the call.
When the noise stops and quietness envelopes them, the couple is left with just each other. He lays them down, her body relaxing into him as she murmurs how much sleep she’s lost over their dispute.
He whispers back, “Go to sleep, then, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
He watches her eyes flutter close, her head falling further into the crook of his neck when she crosses the line between consciousness and unconsciousness.
Lando’s not tired, however, only laying down with her because he’s not ready to let her go yet. His eyes wander around her childhood room, pictures of a toddler Y/n winning karting races and different championships. Her toothy grin is a charming sight, a look she hasn’t lost in the years of her growth since then.
After inspecting and finding nothing, but more things to love about her, Lando’s eyes avert back to her sleeping form. He brushes the hair out of her face lightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering against it, “At first, you weren’t what I wanted, but I absolutely need you now.”
Tags (i forgot to put these lol): @toasttt11 @megumilovesme @the-untamed-soul @evieepepi08 @igotnorrrizz @im-an-overthinker @cxrlha @ssrcsm @landoslover @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @louvpdf @weasleyreidstyles @ushygushybaby @theycallmeahugger @sainzluvrr @itsjustaninchident @gavisuntiedboot @gracielukey @formula1mount @cjjydes282clo @ssararuffoni @aexitizen
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f0point5 · 8 months
Text
Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader Masterlist
She’s still bejewelled - Y/N finds out F1 wag pages are once again speculating she is dating her best friend, Max Verstappen
It’s (not) a cruel summer - Y/N and Max enjoy the summer break
August slipped away - Y/N does a Q&A to catch up with her followers after summer break
Burning red- Lando puts his foot in it
Holy ground - Fans discuss their excitement to see Y/N and Max interact at Zandvoort
I’m the one who understands you - A window into Max and Y/N’s home life
It turned into something bigger - Y/N’s comments about her childhood friend, Mick Schumacher, lead to a social media firestorm
They’d say I’d hustled, put in the work - A look at Y/N’s podcast, Dirty Air(time)
Shake it off - Determined to forget her worries, Y/N goes out parting with Max and Lando
They say home is where the heart is - Fans discuss how Y/N and Max love being roommates
(We’re) in the club doing I don’t know what - Fans look back on Max and Y/N’s Club Rat Renaissance
Pauses, then says, (he’s) my best friend - Y/N spends the day in Amsterdam while Max does press at Zandvoort
How evergreen, our group of friends - Snippets of Y/N and Max’s other friends on the grid and beyond
We’re faster and never scared - It’s a dramatic Friday in the Zandvoort paddock
I watch Superman fly away - The drama continues as Y/N and Mick have a run in in the paddock
Long live all the magic he made - Y/N supports Max as he equals the record for most consecutive wins
Remember the footsteps - A look at Y/N and Mick’s lifelong friendship
He has his father’s eyes…his father’s ambition - A look at Y/N’s relationship with Jos
I love your handshake, meeting my father - Fans discuss Jos’s perspective on Y/N, and her relationship with Max
And maybe it was egos swinging - Everyone speculates about the cause and consequences of Y/N and Mick’s falling out
I fell from the pedestal - Y/N becomes the subject of internet trolling after her fall out with Mick becomes public
Don’t know how long it’s gonna take to feel okay - Unable to deal with the stress and trolling, Y/N goes home to Switzerland, cutting off Max
My reputation’s never been worse so - Y/N’s absence sparks concerns amongst those closest to her
If someone comes at us, this time I’m ready - Y/N’s friends publicly support her as the hate continues
You don’t want to know me, I will just let you down
My words shoot to kill when I’m mad - Mick and Y/N finally talk
Something in your eyes says we can beat this - Max has a tough start to an important weekend, but his luck is about to change
(We) saw something the can’t take away - Y/N is there as Max wins at Monza and breaks another record
This is life before you know who you’re gonna be - Netizens discuss Max and Y/N’s enemy era
20 questions, we tell the truth - Y/N catches up with her followers after a hectic couple of weeks, and meets a man in Monaco
On a Wednesday, in a café - Y/N’s podcast with Daniel leads to some interesting revelations
Do you really want to know where I was? - Y/N and Max spend a day at the factory as rumours begin to swirl
I make it look oh so easy - Y/N and Max choose different confidants as they both attempt to avoid the elephant in the room
You’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes - It gets harder for Y/N to keep her secret
Slow motion, double vision in rose blush - Y/N gets back in the saddle while Max watches from the sidelines in more ways than one
Carnations you had thought were roses - Two of Y/N’s secrets are revealed
Didn’t it all seem new and exciting - Max leaves Y/N behind in Monaco as she reflects on her date
Loose lips sink ships all the damn time - Y/N heads to Switzerland for a special appointment as her relationship with Max is put under a microscope
I don’t wanna miss you like this - Y/N and Max deal with the distance between them differently
Your finger on my hairpin trigger - Tensions run high as Max has a bad day on track and Y/N gets defensive
Takes one to know one - Y/N’s much needed talk with Elliot is interrupted by an explosive qualifying in Singapore
I want to tell you not to get lost in these petty things - Max’s streak comes to an end and he and Y/N look ahead to Suzuka
Forever going with the flow, but you’re friction - Max asking Y/N to fly out early to Japan leads to tension and Y/N turns to Daniel for advice
I drive down different roads - Fans, and Y/N, speculate about her budding relationship
(They) knew what it was, he is in love - Netizens set out to prove that Max is in love with Y/N
(We) counted days, I counted miles, to see you there - Y/N arrives in Japan and is reunited with Max
Balancing on breaking branches - Max receives an unexpected delivery as Y/N answers questions from the media and her mother
It’s you and me, there’s nothing like this - As Max gets back to business as usual in Suzuka, wag social media does it’s thing
My (baby flies) like a jet stream - Max has a good day on track and Y/N’s Vogue article goes live
I can read you like a magazine - The internet reacts to mentions of Max in Y/N’s Vogue article
He’s passing by, rare as a glimmer of a comet in the sky - Red Bull securing the WCC is overshadowed by the revelation that Max hates podcasts
The lingering question(s) kept me up - Y/N does an Instagram Q&A
I just may like some explanations - Y/N answers more questions
How you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry - Set in 2017, we learn what led to Y/N’s dad being dropped as Max’s sponsor, early in their friendship
People started talking, putting us through our paces - When Y/N is spotted out with Elliot, Instagram, Max, and Lando react
I don’t wanna touch you - Y/N finds herself short of breath on her padel date. Later, she appears on Max’s stream
(I) will never make my parents’ mistakes - Y/N’s dad hears about her dating life, and her mother weighs in
Drinking on a (yacht) with you all over me - Y/N and Max kick of his birthday celebrations with a day on the water, while Elliot changes his tune
I’d pick you up and we’d go back in time - Y/N and Max bring in his birthday somewhere special
We’re gonna be timeless - It’s Max’s birthday, but Y/N isn’t the only one planning surprises
Take the moment and taste it - Max enjoys a birthday boat day with family and friends, and Vic makes an accidental discovery
There’s glitter on the floor after the party - It’s the morning after night before. Max and Vic discuss Y/N’s letter
Movin’ on was always easy for me to do - Y/N and Elliot meet up to talk and Y/N’s friend weighs in. Y/N’s tweets irritate Max
Your eyes look like (being at) home - Y/N goes riding, Lando proposes plans, and Max has plans of his own
No I didn’t hear the news, ‘cause we were somewhere else - Max and Y/N arrive in Doha, but rumours about Max’s Monaco exploits follow them
You heard the rumours from (your friends) - Max attends Media Day while Y/N hangs out with an old friend
‘Cause they don’t know about the night in the hotel - Max’s GQ interview exposes an interesting part of Max and Y/N’s past
I was dancing around, dancing around it - Y/N and Clara celebrate Max’s on track triumphs
(You) stand up, champion tonight - Max becomes a three time world champion
This life is sweeter than fiction - Max wins in Qatar in a physically gruelling race
Life makes love look hard - Back in Monaco, Y/N is seen out with Elliot, and he makes a bold suggestion
Can we always be this close? - Y/N and Max have a chill day at home and while Twitter notice Max made an admission in an interview, Y/N makes an admission to Victoria
Inescapable, I’m not even gonna try - Y/N and Max spend a day at the factory, where both realise they may have something to work on
You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me - Y/N’s podcast with Oscar comes out, on the same day she finally films one with Max. Meanwhile, Max uses the sim in an unconventional way
Yes, I remember what you said last night - Y/N’s plans for COTA baffle Christian, and Y/N learns an unexpected fact about the past
Take out, then take me home - Y/N prepares for Austin, and an interview with Max comes out
Love’s a game, wanna play? - Y/N tries her hand at padel after watching Max compete, and Max steams with Redline
Rosé flowing with your chosen family - Clara and Y/N spend the day together, and Clara becomes determined to finish what she started in 2017
(We are) a flight risk, with a fear of falling - Y/N and Max head to the US
Ain’t it funny, rumours fly - Y/N heads to a Ferrari gala as rumours swirl about Max’s next career move amid reports of infighting at Red Bull
As if I don’t already see (it) - The circus settles in to Texas and Y/N’s dad weighs in on Elliot
Can you see right through me? - Y/N and Elliot make a king and awkward paddock debut
I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night - Y/N sheds light on her dating history while she and Elliot struggle to adjust to life in the paddock
It’s morning now, it’s brighter now - Y/N reaches out to an old friend for support. Meanwhile, Daniel tries to support Max
The moment I could see it - Max takes another win in Austin while Elliot reaches his breaking point
You’ll find the real thing instead - Y/N and Elliot have an honest conversation
In the name of being honest - Bonus part where Y/N answers Instagram questions after the Austin GP
I’m asking you why - More of Y/N’s post Austin Q&A
You’ve got a girl at home and everybody knows that - Y/N and Max are suspects in the wildest paddock rumour yet as they wrap up their trip to Austin
You learn my secrets and you figure out why I’m guarded - Y/N gets brutally honest with Mick as Max plays goalkeeper twice
You saw the truth in me - Max cuts it close before media day as reports surface of security threats in Mexico
They tell you that you’re lucky, but you’re so confused - Max attends a gruelling media day as Y/N deals with the heat of Mexico
Laughing with (your head in my) lap, like you were my closest friend - Everyone has a tough quali day
This is the golden age - Maxico delivers another win, and Y/N celebrates with tequila
(You would never) me darling, but who could stay? - Y/N and Max arrive in Brazil for a short break before the race
No one has to know what we do - Max and Y/N fall off the map and enjoy some private time
I can’t say anything to your face - Max and Y/N continue to leave each other flustered and Max starts press for the Brazilian GP
The way you move is like a full on rainstorm - Max takes pole in difficult conditions and Y/N gets near her breaking point
We were cards sharks, playing games - Max wins the sprint and Y/N wins games of her own
🚨I’ve had to add a second masterlist for all posts after this point. That can be found here 🚨
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Astarion Very Happy Ending
So full disclosure, my Tav was a Selunite, and I can't stop thinking well if Bhaal can have a mortal chosen one, why can't Selune?
Also, spoiler warning, stop reading here if you don't want, but like damn girl I freaking turn a Shar priestess away from her god back to you, free a man from his devil's contact, high-key save the world, kill bhaals chocen, convince my vampiric lover to not sacrifice thousands of people, stop an entire goblin army from murdering Tieflings and druids alike, and literally free your daughter. A reward is in order!
This is that reward:
Astarion was slowly getting used to living in the shadows again, as loathe as he was to admit it. It was quite the transition, despite the fact that his time in the sun had amounted to less than a year. But what a lovely year it was. Nearly a perfect one in comparison to the rest of his life. And the promise of more of the same was a suitable balm to being cursed back into the darkness.
It was difficult, but with the love of his life by his side it was more than tolerable. Borderline beautiful in fact, to be able to live his life so freely despite the infuriating complications.
The money also certainly helped.
That was one thing Astarion always had over his brothers and sisters, his fantasies of a better life had always surrounded around Cazador's murder. Not his approval. He may have been completely unaware of the horrifying dungeon beneath their feet, but he did know where the deed to his estate and other properties were kept. And now had enough connections with the higher up's of Baldur's gate for some frankly exquisite forgeries. It had been a particularly satisfying feeling to sell all of his former master's possessions off, even more so when it came to the land. Almost like he was tearing apart his legacy and handing it off to the highest bitter, piece by piece.
Though, being there with you to find and settle in your own little corner of paradise was an even better feeling. Maybe it didn't quite reach his past dreams of grandeur, but it turned out settling in a quaint and poorly lit townhouse in the upper city was more than enough for him to be satisfied.
It was a good charming life, one that Astarion was sure he didn't deserve. But that certainly wasn't going to stop him from enjoying it. Though as much as he adored where he ended up, he'd be lying if he said it was perfect.
No, perfect would have been finding a way for him to ascend without becoming a monster, living in a world where he could be with you fully, completely, out in the sun like the kind of lover you deserved. It made him feel... startlingly inadequate. Everything you did had to be in accordance to his schedule. His lack of capabilities. And just because you always insisted it didn't matter didn't fix the feeling of inadequacy. He hated it, hated the fact that there were so many hours of the day that you couldn't share. He didn't regret his choice, not for a moment, but that didn't mean he was fully satisfied with the consequences.
But in his own defense, he did make up for it in other ways. Mildly frustrating and draining ways, if not a bit rewarding. It had been his own fault, falling so utterly and completely for such a goody two-shoes. A zealot to Selune, as fierce as she was compassionate, always trying to do what was fair and just. Always dragging Astarion on for the ride of her cleric duties.
But he couldn't blame you for all of his new do-gooder ways. Not when he was nearly the leader of a bizarre cult of repentant vampire spawn.
It was just the slightest bit exhausting to so often be playing the part of their heroic leader, fighting all of his murderous instincts to work for a better future for himself and the brethren he had personally damned. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get any satisfaction from it. It felt... good to teach them new ways to live. To give them the chance at the beautiful life he had managed to secure for himself.
He wouldn't do it forever, just until he was confident enough to be sure that his departure wouldn't lead to a massacre on either side. Then the two of you would be off to explore the lands, working to do your goddesses work with just a touch of hedonistic activities on the way.
Astarion was looking forward to it. He hadn't done all that work to be selfless forever. No, he was going to be forced to insist on a few years of having you all to himself, with only the occasional bits of volunteer work for the temple as interruption. Then the two of you could go back to galivanting about the lands being local heroes. But he had earned an extended vacation.
One that, luckily, he hadn't had to fight you on too much. That was just one other thing he loved about you, your complete understanding that Astarion would always be a little selfish, especially when it came to you. The one person who had ever really been his, who loved him, who understood him, who believed in him. Could he be blamed for wanting to have you all to himself?
And admittedly, he did have you more often then not. Even if on occasion he did have to share with your beloved goddess.
Astarion sighed as he watched you pray in the moonlight, completely absorbed in your quiet, mystical chants. Despite his distaste for the length of your prayer sessions, Astarion did like seeing your more ritualistic side. Just... maybe not for the morally correct reasons.
He was well aware that being so involved with a vampire was clearly against your religious doctrine. But it didn't matter. You still choose him, despite how the knowledge nearly made you an outcast amongst your own kind. But he mattered more than your reputation, more than the lessons you had been taught your entire life regarding love and evil.
You still had your faith, but you never let it shake the faith you had in him, something that he valued more than he could ever express. It was perhaps a sick thought, but it also made him feel exceedingly powerful, to know the true extent of your feelings. Even more connected. It was almost... like he was defiling you, corrupting a beautiful flower to turn away from the sun to something even brighter. A love that Astarion doubted most could ever hope to feel.
Perhaps that was not the best outlook on your religion, but oh well. He'd keep those thoughts to himself. What you didn't know wouldn't kill you. Besides... if anyone had been corrupted it was him, plagued with a new sense of loyalty and gods, justice. All from the beautifully strange woman kneeling in the moonlight.
Though, you sure were taking awhile tonight. Nearly twice as long as your usual nightly prayer. He hated to interrupt your worship but this was starting to cut into his time a bit here.
"My dear," Astarion called out, swinging his legs over your shared bed to stand, "Don't you think that you've been kneeling there for a touch too long?"
But you didn't respond, still muttering under your breath, even faster than before.
Astarion narrowed his eyes as he walked closer towards you, confused by your lack of response, "Darling-Tav?"
Astarion stopped, eyes wide as he got a solid look at your first. Your eyes were wide open, body rim rod straight as your irises glowed a vibrant blue light.
What in the nine hells was happening? Astarion kneeled next to you, his heart in his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Tav, love, can you hear me? What is this?"
You didn't answer, you didn't even acknowledge his presence. But you did start floating in the god damn air. Astarion stared, helpless as he watched you levitate, words that he didn't understand spilling from your lips.
Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. You fell unceremoniously to the floor. Astarion scrambled towards you, his heart in his throat as you started to come to. He settled your head in his lap, his hands shaking as he touched your face, lost on what he should be doing.
You blinked your eyes open slowly, that angelic glow still radiating from your irises. But you didn't look frightened, more... excited.
You grinned up at him, your voice slightly cracking when you murmured, "We've been blessed."
Astarion stared at you, brow furrowed. He was happy you were alive and speaking but...
"That's lovely?" Astarion tried, "But severely lacking in terms of an explanation. Are you okay?"
You nodded eagerly, suddenly sitting up with an unexpected amount of energy, "I'll explain later, we don't have much time."
What was it that compelled you religious types to be so cryptic? But you didn't give him anytime to question. Instead you wrapping your arms around his neck and smashing your lips together, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away.
He wrapped strong arms around your back, pulling you in closer, always helpless but to return your affection. But something about this was different. He could feel it, holy magic spreading through him through your lips, down throughout his veins, changing something inside of him. It wasn't unpleasant per say, but it certainly was startling. Startling enough for him to almost push you away, if it wasn't for the fact that he trusted you with everything inside of himself.
Neither of you pulled away until the blue fire in your eyes had died out, and Astarion was left with the intense sensation that something had changed, irrevocably inside of him.
You stared at each other, Astarion in confusion while you looked nothing short of gleeful, "Do you feel it?"
He felt... strange. A warmth still spreading through him that was settling. Astarion raised a brow at you, exceedingly impatient when he asked, "First, how about you explain to me what in the hells that was?"
But you didn't answer. Instead you stood with an adorable hop, lending a hand out to help him up, "Do you trust me?"
Astarion almost rolled his eyes as he took your hand, annoyed that he fell for someone that had just as much of a flair for the dramatic as he did, "You know I do."
You helped him to his feet before you started to mumble again, a startlingly familiar incantation seeping from your lips. It was the spell for daylight, the very same that you had used to help defeat Cazador. The kind that could now kill Astarion in mere moments.
He was too shocked at your audacity to even protest, believing for a split, terrifying second that he was about to die a fiery death. Sunlight suddenly filled the room, bright enough for Astarion to tightly shut his eyes.
Then...nothing. No burning, no pain, nothing but the sounds of you both breathing.
That didn't-how was he-what did you just do?
Astarion stared at you, absolutely flabbergasted with his mouth hanging open, staring at the borrowed daylight like a simpleton, "But how?"
You were still grinning ear to ear, looking happier than Astarion had ever seen you before. You grasped his hands in yours, your smile gentle as you explained, "I told you. We were blessed. Our Lady of Silver gave me one gift, and this is what I choose."
If sunlight wasn't already staring him in the face, Astarion would never believe it. But here he was, alive and standing under it's warmth. A gift from a goddess, spent on him of all creatures.
"It can't fix everything," You clarified with the slightest frown, "But it can fix this."
He could feel the truth in your words. He was still... wrong. A creature born of something awful, doomed to eternity and a life of bloodlust. But part of that wrongness had been culled, curling up and dying from Selune's holy magic, from your enduring love.
It was a dream he never thought possible. One that he had accepted never having. But here he was, here you were, continuing to give him the impossible.
It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Astarion reached up, cupping your face before confessing the truth he couldn't quell.
"I don't deserve you," He whispered, voice hoarse, "I'll never deserve you. Words can't express my thanks. You have given me everything, while I have nothing but myself to give in return. But it's always yours. Everything inside of me."
He meant every word, he always would. Until his last breath.
You shook your head, gentling cooing at him, "This is a time for celebration my love, not for doubt. You've earned this."
He hadn't. And he doubted you'd ever be able to convince him he had. But he'd still take it. Gladly.
"I love you," Astarion murmured, helpless to say anything else. He pressed his lips against yours, the gravity of his new life just starting to settle in his mind.
He was free, as free as he could ever hope for. You had achieved what Cazador could not, all without a hint of malice or horrifying sacrifice. But through kindness, love, and perseverance. You had already freed him once from his own mental shackles, his last remaining ties to the tyrant that made him.
And now you've done it again, saving him from at least a portion of the taint on his soul.
It was beautiful, wonderful, and Astarion would never waste a moment of it.
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mediumgayitalian · 1 month
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Nico really fucking hates capture the flag.
Well, not always. Last week was fun. Last week was the annual Everyone Against The Stolls (to atone for their crimes), and Nico got to chase Connor around at top speeds, cackling, committing his shrieking and begs for mercy to memory. That was nice. That almost made him forgive the fucker for digging a trench under Nico’s unwelcome mat for him to fall into at seven thirty in the godsdamn morning.
But tonight’s game is boring.
He’s been standing, alone, at the base of the flag for the past forty bajillion hours. He’d raised a few dozens skeletons to spar with at first, since animating them to fight himself isn’t technically against the rules, but that got dull fast. (It isn’t much fun sparring with a partner who doesn’t have a brain. He already has to do that enough with Percy when he comes to visit camp.) He’d climbed the various trees around the clearing, or at least he tried until he got reamed by the dryads for climbing on a manner that was too annoying (?), and tried his hands at a few summoning spells. Nothing held his interest long.
And now he’s just standing, doing nothing, and he’s not allowed to leave. He has to stay in this stupid spot on the off chance that someone comes stumbling over to fight him for the flag.
“You’re our best swordsman, she said,” he says mockingly, beaming the nastiest vibes he can manage in Piper’s vague direction. “We need you on our defensive line, she said. Nyeh nyeh nyeh.”
His checks his watch. He groans. He looks critically over the grass, looking for a softer patch, and when he locates it he throws himself dramatically upon it, groaning louder.
“This sucks!” he yells, to no one.
“Will you shut up!” shouts back the dryad he pissed off earlier. “For the love of photosynthesis! Fuck!”
He bites his tongue hard to hold back laughter. (If he can avoid getting his entire cabin overgrown with prickle bushes again, that’d be great.) “Sorry,” he calls, trying with everything he has to sound contrite. Convincing his father to fight the Titan War was easier, actually. Acting is not his calling.
“Hmph!”
At least listening to see if she’ll come out and yell at him again provides something to ease his boredom. Yes, he’s going to regret bothering her, but in his defense, solo guarding is cruel and unusual punishment. He’d rather sit by an outlet with a fork and see if he can poke and let go fast enough to avoid dying. That at least would be interesting.
A rustling of leaves recaptures his attention, and he pauses.
“Holly?”
When no one answers, which is odd because she’s taken every opportunity in the last hour to either insult him or pelt him with stones, he lifts his head.
“You’re not going to scare me, dude. I had my fear glands surgically removed to become a better soldier.”
Not true. Obviously. But a fun bonus of being the camp weirdo is that no one doubts anything he says. He’s working on convincing everyone younger than him that he needs weekly tributes of chocolate delivered to his door every Friday or the dead are going to take over the world. So far, it’s working.
“Look, Holly, I’m sorry about the zombie, okay, I promise it didn’t mean to sneeze part of its brain on you —”
The rustling sounds again, only this time Nico can see that it’s not Holly’s tree, and in fact she is nowhere to be found. Alarmed, he jumps to his feet, shifting so he’s balanced on the balls of his feet, poised to attack. Is Piper’s plan failing? Has someone actually managed to make it all the way over here without getting (gently, probably, although they lost the last game and Piper gets cranky without dessert) maimed?
The rustling sounds for a third time. This time, an armoured someone stumbles out of the underbrush, tripping over their own foot and nearly landing flat on their face.
Nico has his sword at their throat in a millisecond.
“Wo-oah, Morbius. That’s probably my least favourite sword you could stab in me.”
Nico goes bright red. “I have never wanted to stab you more than right this second.”
Will, chest plate skewed to the right, quiver completely empty, and black paint smeared under his eyes, snickers. He puts a finger on the tip of Nico’s sword and pushes it away from his neck.
“The opportunity was right there, babe. I couldn’t not.”
“You really, really could. In fact at all times, you should remember these words of wisdom: shut up.”
“…Damn. Inspiring.”
Nico rolls his eyes, but the effect is somewhat lessened by the smile on his face and the obvious pleasure in his expression. He’s even feeling merciful enough to accept Will’s kiss, although his sword keeps a good amount of distance between them. (Will’s on the blue team, after all. It would be unprofessional to be fraternizing with the enemy.
…Well, too much, anyway.)
“What’re you doing here? You’re supposed to be with the other archers, sitting in trees and causing havoc.”
Will shrugs, grinning lazily. “I quit. This game is senselessly violent and I’m Against It On Principle. I’m a pacifist, you know.”
“Uh huh.” Nico raises an eyebrow. “I assume this doesn’t count you choking Cecil out in a headlock, this morning.”
Will opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. He closes it again.
“Cecil is my mortal enemy,” he grudges after a moment. “He doesn’t count.”
“‘Course not. Not like you cried for two hours when he went to visit his mom last weekend or anything.”
“Will you — stop saying I cried. I barely teared up, okay. Barely.”
Nico can’t quite force down the stupid grin that pulls across his face, matching Will’s, nor can he resist grabbing the leather straps of his boyfriend’s armour and hauling him close.
“You better not be here to distract me,” he mumbles, leaning close and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Will hums, settling his hands on Nico’s hips.
“Nope. Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Drama queen.”
“Excuse — I am the least dramatic, I’ll have you know. I’m a pinnacle of solemnity. I am a shining beacon of stoicism. I am — mmfh,” He trails off. “Okay, doing this now, mhm.”
Nico smiles triumphantly into the kiss. Will, he has found, is very easy to shut up, despite his long-running nickname of Motormouth. It’s almost like he has an off button that can be accessed only by Nico sticking his tongue in his mouth. Nico is doing his civic duty, honestly. He should be compensated for his service.
(‘Course, doesn’t hurt that Will smells, like, really good, all the time, and his lips are soft as hell and he is actually quite the kisser, in fact. That is definitely a fun bonus.)
He smooths his hands over Will’s shoulders, travelling up the sides of his neck and settling in his hair. Will keens, slightly, when he wraps a finger around a frizzy golden curl and tugs, slightly, when he scratches his nails along his scalp. The rush of power at the feeling makes Nico dizzy, and his sword clatters to the ground as he busies himself with more interesting — and important — things.
Like pulling more of those sounds from his boyfriend’s throat. Or making his knees buckle, again, like he did the other night — gods, that was good, it made Will flush scarlet and Nico feel like he was fuckin’ floating, to have Will so needy and touchy and totally at his mercy —
“Free line to the flag! Go go go go!”
Nico startles, whirling towards the sudden cacophony of noises. To his horror, what looks like half the camp, helmets shining with plumes of blue, comes pouring into the clearing, weapons raised, voices mixing in one long, victorious shout. He lunges for his sword, but before he can grab it, two strong arms tighten around his torso, pinning his hands to his side.
Immediately, he knows he’s been set up.
“Oh, you — fucker!”
He feels the curve of Will’s grin against his neck. “First shower privileges for a whole month, baby.” He noses along his jaw, pressing an apologetic kiss to his cheek. “Couldn’t resist.”
Nico struggles, aghast, watching the once-red flag shimmer in Lou Ellen's hold to a bright, shining blue. “I am breaking up with you, you traitor, you Iago, you vixen — ”
Will snorts. He ducks down and pecks Nico on the lips, again, and again, and then shifts to his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his temples, his forehead, and all over his face, making louder and louder mwah sounds until Nico is laughing, punching his shoulder and shoving him away.
“Okay! Okay. Let me go, you villainous toad. We will discuss how much you’ll have to grovel for my forgiveness after Piper finishes yelling at me for getting distracted.”
Will presses one last kiss to his nose, smiling cheekily before stepping away, heading towards his boasting team. “Enjoy that lecture! Love you!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nico rolls his eyes, resting his aching cheek in his hand. “Love you too, asshole.”
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watchmegetobsessed · 9 months
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UNSPOKEN
A/N: i literally started writing this over a year ago, then forgot about it and now i revisited it and finished it. im not entirely satisfied with how it turned out to be, it's kind of one big clishé, but... i would hate if it went to waste, it's a long fic so here it is!
WORD COUNT: 9.8k
SUMMARY: Your college roommate wants to get you out of your shell and brings you to your first frat party. It's not quite your setting, but when you meet a nice boy in the bathroom it gets better. Right until he catches your roommate's eyes as well.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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FRESHMAN YEAR
Your first ever college party is just like how you imagined it. Lots of drunk people, a frat house packed to its fullest capacity, music blasting so loud your ears will surely be ringing in the morning and lots and lots of anxiety. On your part, at least.
You’ve never been quite the party person, weren’t really invited to them most of the time through high school, but it seems like that’s about to change thanks to your roommate. Izzy is practically your polar opposite, judging from the two days you’ve known her, she was definitely part of the popular kids in high school and she’ll make herself a name in college as well. She seems nice and she was the one who dragged you to this party, some guy invited her, she met him on her first day on campus, they just randomly bumped into each other and of course, he tried to flirt with her. She is the kind of girl guys fall head over heels in love with within seconds, while you’re more of a wallflower. Seemingly it’s her mission to push you out of your comfort zone and get you to socialize more. 
Normally you wouldn’t want to change, there’s a reason why you don’t like parties and lots of people around you, but because you’re desperate to find new friends, you’d do anything it takes and right now Izzy is your best shot at it. 
“Come on, let’s get a drink!” she smirks and already pulls you towards the kitchen as if she was already familiar with the place. 
There are bottles and red cups everywhere, you keep bumping into drunk people as you try to follow Izzy into the kitchen. She snatches a bottle of vodka as if it was waiting exclusively for her and pouring some into two cups she tops the drinks with orange juice, handing you one of them.
“Cheers to the best years of our lives!” she grins, bumping her cup against yours and you just smile as you both take a sip from the drinks. 
“Wow, it’s… strong,” you say with a surprised frown, you haven’t been quite the drinker either and the proportion of vodka and orange juice in the drink is definitely wilder than you expected.
“That’s the point,” she winks. 
You follow her around for the next about an hour, it seems like Izzy didn’t waste her time since her arrival and already made several friends. She keeps introducing you to everyone she runs into, though you remember just about no names minutes later. 
You feel like you stand out, but you tell yourself it’s only because everyone is new and you’re overwhelmed by all the changes that’s been happening around you. 
Excusing yourself you go and look for a bathroom somewhere upstairs. After opening a few wrong doors you finally find the one you were looking for and lock it behind you so no one can walk in. Just as you approach the toilet, a voice speaks up from the bathtub.
“Um, before you do anything, you’re not alone.”
“Holy shit,” you gasp in shock when you turn around and see a guy sitting in the bathtub. Your heart is about to jump out of your chest, you weren’t expecting anyone and it’s a luck he spoke up before you went on to use the toilet. 
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense. 
“I-It’s fine, I was just not expecting anyone to… be sitting in the bathtub,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows as you say it out loud.
“I know, I just… I’m having a break so I’m not forced to take another shot,” he shakes his head chuckling.
“And the tub was your best idea to hide? Aren’t people coming in to use the bathroom?”
“Well, yes, but more often to have sex than to actually use it.”
“Oh…” you breathe out. 
“But I didn’t watch, if that’s what you’re concerned about, I let them know the room is occupied in time,” he grins and it makes you laugh. “Seemingly that’s not why you’re here, so I’ll let you use my little hideaway.”
He gets up and leaves so you can use the toilet in peace and you expect him to disappear, but when you walk out, he is standing by the door.
“You’re coming back?” you ask, as you switch places.
“I’m gonna enjoy some more peace,” he shrugs with a smile. “You can join me, if you want,” he offers and it comes as a surprise, because it feels like he genuinely wouldn’t mind it if you joined him. 
Honestly, you could use a break from the madness outside, so before you could overthink, you nod and follow him inside, closing the door behind you. 
The guy is already climbing back into the tub and when he has taken his spot, he gestures for you to do the same and sit across from him. It feels weird and ridiculous, but you join him at last, the cold surface of the tub feels soothing against your hot skin that heated up because of the crowd that’s outside.
“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself, holding a hand out for you. 
“Y/N.”
“Are you a freshman too?”
“Is it that obvious?” you ask with a nervous chuckle.
“No,” he shakes his head smiling. “Just maybe a little bit,” he then adds. 
Sitting in that tub, you engage into a conversation with Harry that flows so smoothly and easily, it almost feels like you’ve known him for longer than just about thirty minutes. He has a great humor and he’s exceptionally smart. All of that pairs with a pretty charming look and he almost feels too good to be true to be chatting with you at a party full of girls like Izzy. 
Almost an entire hour passes, but you barely notice, his phone’s buzzing is what pops your little bubble.
“Ah shit, my friends are asking where the hell I went, I think I need to make an appearance,” he sighs, texting something back quickly. “Do you want to grab a drink?”
“With you?” you ask with wide eyes, which makes him chuckle.
“Of course! Come on, let’s show our faces.”
Harry climbs out of the tub and then helps you out as well offering you a hand that you gladly take and when you’re standing on your feet outside of the tub, his hold stays a bit longer, pulling you towards the door, only letting go of your hand when you step out of the bathroom. But even as you head downstairs, he places a hand to the small of your back, guiding you through the sea of drunk guests as you make your way to the kitchen. 
The butterflies in your tummy are definitely going crazy, the attention and affection Harry has shown you in the past hour is more than what you’ve gotten from boys all your life. 
“Alcoholic or something light?” he asks, looking around at the selection on the counter.
“Maybe something light,” you say and he doesn’t even try to convince you to drink something else. He pours some kind of juice into two cups and hands you one, bumping his cup against yours with a charming smile before he lifts it to his lips. 
“I don’t know where my friends are, but they are up to no good for sure,” he chuckles as he looks around. “Do you want to look for your roommate?”
You open your mouth to answer, but right in that moment Izzy appears out of the blue.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you for ages! Where did you go?”
“Oh, I was just…”
“My fault, sorry,” Harry speaks up. “I kept her up, bored her to death,” he adds chuckling. Izzy turns to face him and you immediately see the shine in her eyes upon seeing Harry while your stomach churns. 
“And who are you, handsome stranger?”
“I’m Harry, nice to meet you. And you must be Izzy, Y/N’s roommate.” Harry holds his hand out but Izzy goes for a hug instead, which obviously surprises him, but he circles an arm around her waist anyway.
“Nice to meet you too, Harry, would you like to join me and my friends for a round of beerpong?” she invites him right away. Harry looks at you as if he is looking for your approval, but you feel like you have no power in this situation, Izzy is the boss, so you just force a smile to your face.
“Um, sure,” he nods.
The three of you join Izzy’s group outside at the beerpong table and you feel overshadowed even more now than before. Seemingly your roommate is very into your new friend, it’s pretty obvious Izzy is flirting with Harry, showing her liking to him, it doesn’t even occur to her that you might feel the same way about Harry. 
If you were confident enough you’d stand up for yourself, you met Harry first and up until Izzy showed up it seemed like he liked you as well, but now he is too busy to pay any attention to you, because Izzy makes sure all of his attention is on her. But you’re not the type who speaks up that easily, so you just stand back and witness your roommate shamelessly flirting with the one guy you had your eyes on.
If you’re being honest you’re not surprised, only disappointed. If you were a guy you’d choose Izzy over you anytime, she is outgoing, gorgeous, charming, exactly what guys usually look for. Everything you’re not. 
You go home that night on your own, Izzy is very much into partying until dawn, but you lose interest watching her cling onto Harry, so you sneak out sometime around one o’clock and go back to the dorm. You wake up when she arrives hours later, but pretend to be asleep in case she wants to brag to you about anything that might have happened between her and Harry.
The semester officially kicks in on Monday. It turns out Izzy has a class together with Harry and she goes on and on about how this is fate when the two of you meet at the dormroom later. You just sit and listen, nod along and try to swallow the bitterness in your mouth. 
“I’m so happy you introduced me to him, Y/N!” she sighs dreamily and you can’t help but clench your jaw at her words. You never really introduced them, she just showed up and joined the conversation. She never asked if you liked Harry, if you wanted to shoot your shot. She just assumed she’s got the green light. 
Harry sends you a friend request on Facebook and you accept it, he even starts to chat with you, which is nice and definitely makes your heart flutter, but knowing that he’s hanging out with Izzy and that she definitely wants to further their relationship, you remain a bit distant and cold so your heartbreak won’t be as bad.
A week later they officially become an item.
Izzy drags you along sometimes, even though you tell her you don’t quite like third wheeling, but she always tells you that won’t happen. It does and you hate every minute of it, so after a while you start to make up excuses just to avoid spending time with them.
It goes on for about two months, right until one day, out of the blue, Harry breaks up with Izzy. She is seemingly heartbroken and hurt, though you have a feeling it’s more about how her ego was hurt by being dumped rather than the actual emotional part of the breakup. 
The aftermath of it is that it’s not said out loud, but it’s obvious Izzy doesn’t want anything to do with Harry ever and she expects you to do the same. She cuts out any and every possible future chance for you to even be friends with Harry.
ONE YEAR LATER
It’s a relief when you step into your favorite little café you found last year near campus. This has been your hideaway from the busy everydays. The smell of fresh coffee and pastries hits you instantly, the little bell rings above the door upon your arrival and a smile stretches across your face without even realizing it.
It’s your first time here since the start of the semester after the summer, you had a great vacation at home with your family, but it’s also nice to be back to your usual. It’s not a popular place, pretty hidden, so you don’t have to wait in line for hours, like at the Starbucks next to Building C. There’s only one guy at the counter when you arrive, two more people at the tables with plenty of empty seats available. You’ve written several papers at these tables, drinking coffee after coffee until you finished with your eyes red, head aching, but at least you could turn them in. 
Behind the counter there’s a barista you don’t remember from last year. As you step closer you see her nametag says Sarah and she is smiling brightly at the guy in front of you as she hands him over the change that eventually ends up in a tip jar, as always. The guy moves over to wait for his drink and now it’s your turn.
“Hi, what can I get you?” she smiles warmly, her ponytail flipping around as she tilts her head to the side.
“A cappuccino please with a bit of cinnamon, on the go.”
“Alright,” she nods, pressing around on the screen in front of her. “That’ll be 3.65.”
You grab a five dollar bill from your wallet and hand it over to her.
“Keep the change.”
“Thank you,” she beams as her eyes wander down to the pin on your backpack while you put your wallet away. “Nice pin,” she chuckles and you look down at the Office pin you got last year. It’s Dwight’s head with the word ‘FALSE’ written underneath.
“Oh, thank you,” you chuckle. “You like the show too?”
“Love it and I made my boyfriend watch it with me too, he wouldn’t admit it, but he is a fan now too,” she says laughing. She seems like such a nice, genuine and open person, so you dare to further the conversation.
“Are you a new worker here? I used to come here all year last year, but I didn’t see you.”
“Yeah, I started in August. My boyfriend transferred here this year and I came with him.”
“You’re not studying?”
“No, I can’t really see myself going to college. So I’m here until I figure out what I want to do,” she shrugs smiling, it doesn’t seem like she’s bothered that she has no certain plans for her future. 
“It’s better than to study something you absolutely hate,” you agree, chuckling.
“Oh, yeah!” she smirks, nodding.
You chat with Sarah until your drink is ready and you feel like you already made a new friend. She even let you know they are having a little open mic event on Friday where people can read their poems or perform a song freely. It sounds exactly like the kind of thing you want to do on a Friday. 
Last year was a bit… hectic in terms of friends and socializing. With Izzy as your roommate she kept trying to drag you to different parties and events, she never asked if you even wanted to go or not, just expected you to follow her everywhere. At the beginning you complied, but later it became way too draining, so you made up excuses so you could ditch her plans. 
Since you engaged with Izzy and her friends in the beginning, that’s what you ended up sticking to for the rest of the school year. You don’t want to sound ungrateful, but sometimes, or maybe often, you felt like you were an outsider in their group. Now you’re thinking about maybe looking for other people to hang out with, but you don’t really know where to start and you also don’t want Izzy to get the wrong idea about it. 
As you walk through campus with your coffee in hand to get to your first class, you spot a familiar face sitting under a tree with two other guys. It seems like Harry has started to grow his hair out during the summer, his curls now reach his shoulders practically, but he is still wearing skinny jeans. 
He looks good. He always does, but it seems like he got even more handsome throughout the summer and since you haven’t seen him. After the breakup you spotted him a few times around campus and it seemed like he might have even wanted to talk to you, but you avoided him like the plague. At first because of girl code, because that’s what Izzy wanted you to do, and later it simply felt awkward. Part of you was mad at him for choosing Izzy. Even though their relationship didn’t last long, he still chose her over you and that stung. Once again, you fell second after someone else and you didn’t feel like sticking around when you were just a second choice. 
But every once in a while you think about him, how good of a friendship could have been between the two of you at least. The talk you had in that bathtub was probably the best time you had all year at a party. You think about the missed opportunity way more than you probably should, but not enough to actually approach Harry and give it another go. 
He is laughing at something when his gaze falls upon you and you see him zone out of the conversation as he watches you continue your path. You want to look away, but something is not letting, your eyes stay focused on him and he stares back at you. For a split second it seems like he is smiling in your way, but that scares you and you turn your head, fastening your steps to reach the building and flee as soon as possible.
By the time you reach the entrance your heart is hammering your chest and you swear you could feel his gaze on you the whole time. You go on with your day thinking about those few seconds while you were looking at each other, but of course, you never mention it to Izzy.
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“Gamma Epsilon party on Friday night, you’re coming, right?” Izzy bursts through the door of your shared room on Wednesday, her fingers relentlessly typing away on her phone. You’re sitting on your bed with your laptop on your lap, updating the schedule you’ve put together, fixing the color coding so it looks perfectly neat.
You look up at her and almost start thinking of an excuse, only to realize you actually have plans for that day already.
“I can’t, I have plans.”
Izzy stops in her steps and looks at you with clear surprise in her eyes.
“What plans?” she asks and the disbelief is quite apparent in her tone, which is kind of hurtful, but you let it slide. As if you couldn’t have plans on your own… 
“There’s an open mic evening at Beachwood Café, I’m going there.”
“Beachwood Café? I have never heard of that place and who are you going with?”
“It’s off-campus. And I was invited by one of the new baristas, she seems pretty nice.”
“And you’d rather go there than to a party?”
“Well… yes, I guess,” you nod uncertainly, though it’s pretty obvious to you that your choice is the better one. 
The look she gives you sends a shiver down your spine and it’s not the good kind. You almost want to apologize for making plans on your own, but your rationality knows you did nothing wrong. Yet, she still has the power to make you doubt yourself. 
“Alright,” she then shrugs and acts like she doesn’t care, but the stinging feeling remains deep under your skin.
When Friday rolls around Izzy tries again a few times to get you to ditch the open mic event, but you don’t budge. There’s literally anywhere you’d rather be than at a frat party. So you put on a nice dress, do your hair and makeup the way you like the most and leave the dorm with an excitement you didn’t get to feel too often.
You’ve never been to anything like this and it’s surprising to see so many people at the café when you arrive. Usually it’s just a handful of customers lingering around, but today there are at least two dozen people taking up every tiny space in the small café.
“Oh, Y/N! Hi!” Sarah spots you from behind the counter as you step inside. You make your way through the people and greet her with a small wave.
“Hi Sarah. I didn’t think this is so popular,” you chuckle.
“Yeah, it’s a great success,” she grins winking at you. “I saved a seat for you next to my friends over there,” she says pointing to the back of the room.
“Thank you!”
“Do you want to have something to drink?”
“Maybe just a bottle of water for now.”
Sarah rings you up and once you’ve paid you make your way to the back to look for the seat. She said you’ll spot her boyfriend with his long hair and as she called it “hot Jesus look” so that’s what you’re looking for. There’s a tiny stage already set up near the counter with just one microphone and a stool and you’re curious what kind of performances you’ll see tonight. It amazes you that people just stand up in front of others and do this, you could never work up the courage to get in the center of the attention. 
Navigating your way between the tables you finally spot who you assume to be Sarah’s boyfriend and just as you’re approaching him, you see who he is sitting at the table with. 
There are three seats at the tiny table, one is empty, one is taken by Sarah’s boyfriend and the last one is taken by Harry. 
He spots you just when you see him, freezing just a few feet away from them. It seems like he’s surprised to see you, but he also doesn’t appear to be upset by your appearance, maybe even pleasant.
“Hey, you must be Y/N, right?” Sarah’s boyfriend stands, holding a hand out for you.
“Uh, y-yeah,” you nod, shaking his hand.
“I’m Mitch and this is–”
“We actually know each other,” Harry cuts in.
“Oh, really?” Mitch smiles warmly. “Well, have a seat then,” he nods towards the empty seat that is of course next to Harry.
It’s awkward. For you, at least. Sitting so close to the one person you’ve been avoiding at all cost for about a year now and now he is just right there next to you. 
You sit in silence for a while and you’re just nervously fidgeting with the bottle of water in your lap and then he is the first one to speak up. 
“At least this time we’re not meeting in a bathroom for the first time in the semester.”
You want to stay serious, but you can’t. A smile tugs on your lips and the two of you start laughing together.
“This chair is more comfortable than the bathtub, if you ask me,” you giggle under your breath.
“Definitely,” he nods grinning. “So how do you know Sarah?”
“Oh, I just come here often and we just… you know, started talking.”
“You come here often? How come I never saw you? I drop by almost every day.”
“Well, I guess we just missed each other.”
“Mm. What a shame,” he hums and you can tell there’s more behind his words. 
You stare back at him, there’s so much you want to say to him, yet nothing comes out of your mouth. You feel shame, regret and confusion, all at the same time as you look back at him, all the unsaid things hanging between the two of you. 
Clearing your throat you turn to look ahead, feeling his gaze linger on you for a few more seconds but then a man steps to the microphone and the evening starts.
Even after the performances have started, more and more people arrive until the tiny café is so full, you can’t even drop a pin. You hear poems, songs and stories, originals and covers as well and you love all of them. 
Harry seems to be enjoying them as well and you even start to discuss your favorite parts and the best thing is when you look at each other at the same time hearing something that caught your attention and you know the other one thinks the exact same thing. 
You realize just how much you missed him. It’s almost like in the bathtub all over again and it doesn’t even process that a year has passed by and so much has happened. 
When the performances are over they start to wrap up the evening, but the three of you remain sitting at the table, waiting for Sarah to finish. Mitch walks up to the counter to keep his girlfriend company while she puts the cups and glasses away, so it’s just you and Harry now.
“There was a frat party tonight, you didn’t want to go?” you ask, eyes focused on your nervously fidgeting fingers in your lap. 
“I’m not really a party person, usually end up hiding in the bathtub,” he chuckles.
“So that’s your usual? Did you end up in the bathtub with someone else too?” you ask and try to sound as unbothered as possible, ignoring the stinging pain in your chest when you think of him having the same experience with someone else.
“No,” he smiles at you softly. “Only with one person, though I didn’t see her for a long time after that.”
And you’re back at the touchy subject, but this time you feel like you can’t avoid it.
“I don’t like to be the third wheel,” you mumble, heat crawling up the sides of your neck towards your ears.
“I didn’t go out with Izzy for long, you practically vanished even after we broke up.”
“Because Izzy is my friend and you broke up with her. I couldn’t side with you.”
“Says who?” he chuckles. “Besides, it wasn’t that deep. It’s not like we dated for years, we barely had a handful of dates.”
“But you had them,” you find yourself replying, your voice coming out a bit harsher than you intended. 
Harry stays quiet for a while and you start to think he won’t add anything, he speaks up again.
“You were mad at me for going out with Izzy?”
You didn’t expect him to question it at all and now that he hit the nail right on the head, you feel exposed, almost naked as he is looking at you with questioning eyes.
“No, I–Um… I need to go,” you blurt out and grabbing your purse you launch to rush out of the café, but Harry is quick to run after you.
“Hey, wait! Y/N, let’s talk about it!” He jumps in front of you to block your way, a hand coming to grab your arm gently. “It’s the first time you talked to me in almost a year, don’t just run away, please,” he begs and suddenly you feel ashamed of how you just acted.
“S-Sorry, I just…”
“Harry!” You hear someone call from the entrance of the café and you both turn in the direction of the voice. Mitch and Sarah are stepping out, watching you with questioning looks. Harry sighs and waves at them.
“I’m walking Y/N home, I’ll meet you later!” They just nod and head in the other direction as Harry turns to you again. “Can we please talk? I don’t want you to leave like this, let me walk you home.”
“Okay,” you whisper nodding as the two of you start walking towards your dorm. 
“So, I feel like you were mad at me for dating Izzy.”
“I was just… confused,” you say, looking for the best way to express what happened.
“About what?”
Sighing you realize you won’t be able to talk it out without giving away something.
“You didn’t seem like the type of guy who would go after a girl like Izzy. And it turned out you weren’t a match anyway, so… I don’t know, I was confused that you asked her out.”
“Okay, just to be clear, she asked me out and I thought going on a date could never hurt. It wasn’t that disastrous, but if I’m being honest I knew it from the beginning it wouldn't last long.”
“Then why did you even go into it?” you ask. 
“I don’t know, I just started college, I was open to meeting new people. Who am I to judge someone so quickly?”
You hate that his answer is rational. You can’t blame him for not being judgmental, yet you still want to be mad at him.
“Besides,” he continues, “the person I really wanted to get to know didn’t seem to be interested in me.”
Your eyes snap up to meet his and your knees almost go weak when you see the tiny smile that’s curling up the corners of his mouth. Was that a hint? Did he imply he wanted to get to know you? As if Harry could hear your questions, he continues.
“After Izzy came up to us that night you kind of stepped back. I tried to reach out, but I felt like you didn’t want to talk to me anymore, so I didn’t force it. Izzy asked me out and I figured since you two are friends it was cleared, okay by everyone, but apparently it wasn’t.”
You stop in your tracks wrapping your arms around yourself as you chew on your bottom lip. It feels like the right moment to open up, but you haven’t done much of that in your life, so you don’t know how to do it without making a fool out of yourself.
“I just… I didn’t think you’d want to spend time with me when you could be with Izzy.” Harry sighs as he looks at you with a tender gaze.
“Y/N, I had a great time with you. When you were so cold towards me, I took it as a sign that it wasn’t the same on your part.”
“It wasn’t… I had a good time with you,” you admit truthfully, which brings a smile to his lips. “I just… Izzy seemed to like you too and…”
He doesn’t force you to finish, as if he could tell that talking about it makes you anxious, but he understands everything you’re trying to say. 
“Izzy is a nice girl, but not really the type I usually hang out with.”
“Your friends from the frat seem to like her.” It slips out before you could even think about it.
“Actually, I spend more time with Mitch and Sarah and they are not at all like those guys. If you remember, I was kind of hiding from them at the party when we met.” The boyish smile definitely makes the butterflies in your stomach start dancing wildly. “Alright, let me make this clear, because I don’t want to dance around it anymore and I don’t want any misunderstanding either,” he starts and you hold your breath as you stare back at him. “I like you, Y/N. I liked you a year ago and I only went out with Izzy because you didn’t seem to be interested in me. But if you like me too, I would really love to spend more time with you. As friends, or… whatever else.”
This is new. Harry just openly told you that he is interested in you. Not in someone else, not in Izzy. You. 
For the first time you’re not second behind someone else.
He smiles at you warmly, your shocked reaction is probably quite entertaining while you’re looking for the words to say.
“Do you want to spend more time with me, Y/N?” he then asks with that boyish smirk you love so much.
“I do,” you smile shyly.
“Great,” he nods. 
He walks you back to the dorm and you catch up on everything that basically happened since the bathtub incident. School, friends, family, you feel like you’re continuing exactly from where you left it a year ago and it’s a relief that neither of you changed too much over the time. At one point he drapes his sweatshirt over your shoulders when he notices you’re feeling cold and it gets hard to focus on what he is saying when all you can smell is his sweet scent. 
“I’m really glad we met again tonight, Y/N,” he smiles at you when you finally arrive at the dorm.
“Yeah, me too,” you return the smile and start to peel off the sweatshirt he gave you, but he stops you.
“Keep it.”
“But I’m here, I won’t need it inside.”
“Let’s say it’s the leverage that we’ll meet again, so you can give it back. How about lunch sometime this week?”
“That sounds great,” you nod and the smile just widens across your face. 
“Amazing, then see you later,” he grins as he backs away and you just nod, biting into your bottom lip, but then he runs back to you and leaning down he presses a kiss to your cheek before finally turning around and leaving.
You keep smiling like an idiot as you take a shower and get ready for bed. Folding Harry’s sweatshirt neatly you put it over the back of your chair at your desk and every time you look at it your heart skips a beat. You did not expect things to take this turn, but you couldn’t be happier now. Smiling to yourself like a lovesick schoolgirl you hug your pillow as you try to get some sleep.
Izzy gets back to the room at around two in the morning. She almost trips in her shoes she left out before leaving and you wake up to her cursing in the dark.
“Sorry babe, it’s just me,” she sighs, as she starts to strip out of her clothes.
“You alright?” you ask groggily.
“Yeah, I’m fine, but you should have been there tonight! Rick jumped into the pool butt naked,” she laughs, falling onto her bed.
“Mm, sounds fun,” you reply, but it’s nowhere near genuine. You’re not interested in seeing some random fratboy butt naked and probably drunk out of his mind.
“How was your evening?”
“Great, I really liked it,” you say, a smile stretching across your face instantly. She doesn’t ask any more questions, it’s clear she’s not quite interested in how your night really was, but as she is about to get comfortable under the covers she spots the sweatshirt on the back of your chair. 
“Whose sweatshirt is that?” she asks, but her tone reveals she already knows the answer. You hesitate and at last you decide to lie.
“Sarah’s boyfriend let me borrow it, I know her from the café.”
Izzy stares at the sweatshirt for a couple of moments before she pulls the covers over herself and turns to face the wall. 
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When you’re waiting for Harry at the school’s cafeteria on Tuesday, for a moment you think that he won’t come. Holding onto his sweatshirt you kept as a treasure since Friday you’re anxiously kicking around the dirt even though he is just one minute late to what you agreed on earlier.
“Hey! Sorry, Professor Hastings just loves talking,” he runs up to you and before you could even snap out of your thoughts he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek.
“It’s alright,” you smile. “Here.” You hand him the sweatshirt and he just smiles before tucking it into his backpack.
Normally you eat with Izzy and her friends, but this time you take it away, because Harry says he knows a great spot. Behind building E there’s an old oak tree with a little bench underneath. The route behind the building is not too popular, it leads next to the trash containers, but when you reach the tree you sense nothing of it, so the bench sits unoccupied when you arrive. 
It’s like a little picnic as you pick up the conversation exactly where you left it earlier. Talking to Harry is so easy, so natural, no doubt you missed him so much after you lost contact. You truly turn into a giggling mess every time Harry compliments you or looks at you with so much adoration you never thought anyone could. 
As much as you’d like to spend the whole day like this, you need to get to your next class, so the picnic has to come to an end. Harry insists on walking you to your building, just so you can spend a little more time together. 
“So, there is this party on Saturday, I’m kinda forced to go, but I thought that maybe we could… go together?” he asks, when you reach the building. “And also, if you’re free on Friday, I would love to take you out.”
“Like, on a date?”
“Yes,” he chuckles. “On a date.”
“Okay,” you breathe out, so swooned by his charm. 
“To both?” he smiles brightly. 
“Yeah, both sounds good,” you nod, chuckling lightly. 
“Great! And maybe we could have lunch together some other time this week as well.”
“You’re suddenly occupying all my free time,” you giggle, but it’s not at all a complaint. 
“I’m just that greedy,” he grins, before checking the time on his phone. “I have to run now, but I’ll text you, okay?”
“Sure,” you nod. Harry leans down and kisses your cheek before going his way and you can’t stop smiling for the next two hours.
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You have lunch with Harry one more time this week and you go to the library with him too, spending more and more time together while slowly canceling plans with Izzy and her friends. 
It remains in the back of your mind that sooner or later you’ll have to come clean. You can’t hide it for long and if things turn serious with Harry, she’ll for sure find out about it. You just haven’t figured out how to present it to her.
Hey, how has your day been? Mine? Oh, it’s been great, because lately I’ve been dating your ex. Okay, see ya later!
That would be a disaster. Knowing Izzy there’s no right way to tell her, it’s certain she’ll be fuming no matter how you put it. She very much implied that none of her friends can ever get in contact with Harry after their breakup, which was seemingly pretty rough on her, although… you’re not even sure you want to be friends with her anymore… 
You didn’t miss that she’s been acting weird towards you and you’re guessing it’s because of the hoodie. She must have recognized it and she’s not stupid, she must be suspecting what’s really going on, it’s a miracle she hasn’t asked you straight in your face. Your time is ticking.
Friday afternoon you’re getting ready for your date and praying you can leave before Izzy gets back. You put on a nice dress, do your makeup and hair just the way you like it. Luckily, you get a text from Harry that he has arrived before Izzy returns so you leave in a rush, once again avoiding to face her with the truth.
He is waiting for you in front of the building next to a car you know for a fact he borrowed for the evening, wearing a pair of slacks with a funky patterned shirt tucked into it and a beaming smile on his handsome face.
“Hi,” he greets you softly, pulling out a rose from behind him and handing it to you. 
“Thank you. You look good,” you chuckle, taking the rose.
“I should have said that to you first,” he laughs as he opens the car door for you.
“Sorry,” you grin and get into the car.
You haven’t been on a date, ever in your life, so you didn’t have high expectations for tonight, but Harry has definitely fulfilled all of them. 
He takes you to a gallery where you wander around, talking about the abstract paintings and what you see in them, then comes a nice dinner and because neither of you wants the evening to end, you start walking around the neighborhood aimlessly, the conversation never really dies.
You feel like a fool for staying away from him for so long, you haven’t felt this good in such a long time and you were the only reason why it couldn’t happen earlier.
When you’ve passed the dormitory about five times you realize it might be time to say goodbye, you can’t stretch the evening any longer now. 
“Thank you for tonight, I had an amazing time, really,” you tell him as you stop by the dormitory for the final time. 
“You’re not just saying it to get rid of me, are you?”
“No,” you shake your head chuckling. “I mean it.
“Then, how about dinner tomorrow before the party? And then we can go together.”
The thought of arriving at the party with Harry reminds you that in that case you have to come clean to Izzy. Harry notices how your face falls and he thinks he said something wrong.
“We don’t have to, if it’s too fast, we can–”
“No, it’s not fast, it’s just that… I need to tell Izzy. I haven’t been able to get myself to do that.”
“You mean, about us?”
“Yeah.”
“So… there’s an us?” he asks, tilting his head to the side with a wide grin stretching across his face. You get nervous right away, as if you just made a fool out of yourself.
“I-I mean, i-it’s not, I just–”
“Y/N, stop,” he chuckles and stepping closer he cups your cheek in his hand. “I’m really hoping that there is an us, if it’s still not obvious.”
“Oh,” is all you manage to reply as he slowly closes the gap between the two of you.
His soft lips press against yours in a gentle, patient manner, as if he is giving you a way out of it, but you’d be a fool to break away from him. So when he feels you kissing him back, he deepens it, his tongue runs along your bottom lip and you let him in without hesitation. You haven’t had many first kisses and most of them have been terrible, to put it nicely, but with Harry… He practically melts your whole being, you just want to feel as close to him as possible as you lock your arms around his neck, he is everywhere, all you can feel and sense, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
A kiss never felt this way and it scares and excites you at the same time. 
You have no idea how long you stay like that, minutes or maybe hours, it could be a lifetime but even that wouldn’t be enough. Harry pulls away, but then peppers your lips with a few more tiny kisses before actually moving his head back.
“Do you want me to talk to Izzy?” he asks, his forehead resting against yours as he gently caresses your cheek with his thumb. 
“Tempting, but I think I should be the one to tell her.”
“Or we could tell her together. Tomorrow, at the party?”
“Is that the best option? I mean, shouldn’t we do it more privately?” you ask hesitantly.
“Okay, then maybe I could drop by the dorm before the party and we can tell her then.”
“I don’t think she’ll take it well,” you sigh.
“Is there anything she takes well that’s against what she wants?” he questions arching an eyebrow and he is right. Izzy has a hard time accepting it when things don’t go her way. “So, let’s ditch dinner, I’ll be here at… eight? How does that sound? And we can talk to her together.”
“Okay,” you nod, smiling weakly. Leaning down he kisses you one last time before peeling himself off of you.
“See you tomorrow then,” he winks at you before jogging back to the car he left in front of the building while you were walking. 
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You told Izzy you wanted to talk to her before the party. She knew you wanted to talk, yet she is still nowhere to be found. It’s like she is purposely avoiding you.
It’s past eight, Harry is already in your room, the two of you are waiting for Izzy to show up so you could tell her what’s been happening, but she disappeared.
“She still hasn’t read my message,” you sigh, dropping your phone to the bed next to where Harry is sitting as you pace the floor relentlessly.
“Have you ever seen Izzy without her phone in her hands?” he asks and it’s a valid question. She is practically glued together with her phone 24-7, there’s no way she hasn’t seen your text.
“You think she already knows and she’s just avoiding talking about it?” you ask, chewing on your bottom lip. Harry reaches out and taking your hand he pulls you closer so you stand between his legs.
“I think that’s exactly the case. And if you ask me, she is acting like a child. Let’s just go to the party and talk to her there. We had the intention to do it privately, she didn’t want that. We can’t work everything around her all the time.”
You know he is right, but you’ve always been the kind of person who wants to please everyone. Izzy might have not been the best of friends to you this past year, but you still want the best for her no matter what.
“Okay, yeah, you’re right,” you nod. Reaching up he gently caresses the side of your face before pulling you in for a kiss.
You still haven’t gotten used to Harry just freely kissing you, every time he leans in and you feel his soft lips on yours your heart skips a beat, you can’t believe he wants you, that for once in your life you’re in the focus and that it’s Harry that’s so into you… it feels like a dream you never want to wake up from. 
His hands cup your hips as he brings you close against him, curling his arms around your waist as he deepens the kiss, easing your nerves within just moments. Now you don’t really want to go to that party, it would be a lot nicer if you could just spend some time alone with Harry.
“Maybe, we could skip the whole party?” you suggest between kisses.
“Would love that, but I already promised I’d be there. They always tease me for being a party pooper,” he chuckles softly. “But believe me, I would rather be here with you than at a party.”
“Okay, then we are leaving early, right?” you propose.
“That sounds manageable,” he chuckles before stealing one more kiss.
You arrive at the party together, but until you talk to Izzy you keep your hands to yourselves, though both of you are dying to walk around hand in hand finally. It’s another frat party, nothing special or different from the ones you’ve been to. Drunk college students everywhere, couples making out in every possible corner and the single ones are trying to find a hookup for the night. This setting was never your cup of tea and it’s now just settling in your mind how Izzy always dragged you to these parties even though she knew you didn’t quite like them. 
Looking around you spot her outside, talking to her friends as if you weren’t waiting for her at the dorm and it gets your blood boiling. Harry follows you out to the backyard, his presence is what keeps you collected enough not to snap at Izzy when you finally reach her.
“Hi girls,” you smile around politely. “Izzy, can we please talk? I was actually waiting for you in our room, I guess you forgot.”
“Oh, right! Sorry, it totally slipped my mind,” she says, but there’s nothing genuine about it.
“Okay, so then can we talk now, please?”
She takes a sip from her drink, as if she was debating whether she wants to hear you out or not, her eyes knowingly shifting between you and Harry behind you.
“Of course,” she nods at last and the three of you move to a more secluded spot to have a tad bit of privacy. 
“I wanted to tell you before you find out from someone else, that… I’m dating Harry,” you say it calmly, hoping she won’t cause a scene, that’s the last thing you need right now. 
You didn’t entirely think through what you’d tell her and now as she is staring at you with deadly eyes, you’re looking for the right thing to say, but she speaks up first.
“You really thought you hid it well from me?” she huffs. “I knew it when I saw his hoodie on your chair that night. I’m not stupid.”
“No one thought you were,” Harry says.
“Oh, so then you just decided to backstab me, that’s fine!” she lets out a dry laugh.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Harry sighs.
“No one wanted to backstab you. It’s not how we planned, but it happened, alright? It’s nothing against you.”
“But I do think it’s something against me. You’re dating my ex, Y/N. Are you really that jealous of me?”
“I’m not jealous of you, Izzy. But honestly, you never even asked me if I liked Harry when you started dating him! You just assumed you were more of his type than I am and pushed me aside!”
Clearly, Izzy is surprised that for once, you’re standing up for yourself, because the stunned look on her face is something you haven’t seen often. It’s like you just solved a puzzle you’ve been struggling to finish for a year.
Izzy was never really your friend. She saw you more like a charity project, to look better next to you and she couldn’t put up with Harry being interested in you rather than her so she did everything she could to keep you away from him. But not that she failed, she is trying to make you feel guilty, but it’s not gonna work. 
“I will be requesting to change rooms. It’s better if we just keep our distance from each other. I’m sorry this is how it turned out to be,” you say, truly disappointed it had to take such a bitter turn. 
“Whatever, Y/N. I’m not wasting my time on you two, I have better things to do,” she spats and walks away. One year of friendship down the drain just like that. 
“You did good,” Harry speaks up and turning around you can feel yourself easing up from the tension as you look at him. “Maybe she will come around in time. Or not, it doesn’t matter,” he chuckles as he pulls you closer by your waist, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 
“I would really like to leave though,” you sigh.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he agrees, not even caring about what his friends will say about his early departure.
You were done there, in every possible sense.
TWO YEARS LATER
“Thank you for your attention, it’s been a pleasure to teach you this semester and I wish the best for all of you in starting your career!”
Professor Turner smiles as he finishes the very last class you have as a college student. A round of applause washes over the room before everyone starts packing up and leaves the auditorium for the last time.
“I’ll see you at the graduation ceremony, right?” Claudia smiles at you, swinging her backpack over her shoulder.
“Yes! We need to take a picture together!” you beam at her.
These past two years you’ve made some great friends and Claudia is one of them. You had several classes together and bonded over a group project. After your initial fallout with Izzy, you were afraid you’d be on your own, but making friends turned out to be easier when you were looking at the right places. 
And besides that, you wouldn’t have been alone. You had your amazing boyfriend.
As you walk out of the building you spot Harry by the same bench he has waited for you after Professor Turner’s class all semester. He is reading a book, but as if he had a sixth sense, he looks up when you walk down the stairs and slips his book back into his backpack before standing up and walking towards you smiling as he meets you halfway. 
He curls his arms around your waist and sweeps you up from the ground while kissing you, making you laugh against his lips with his enthusiasm about seeing you again, even though you parted ways just a few hours ago.
“Hi,” you smile when your feet touch the ground again and he presses a kiss to your forehead.
“How does it feel to be free from school?” he asks, taking your hand as the two of you start walking back to the tiny apartment you’ve been renting for the past year. 
You stayed in the dorm after you switched rooms and left Izzy, but you felt like you could use some privacy for the last two semesters, especially because Harry was living with two of his friends and there was basically no place where you could be alone. Now Harry spends more time at your place than at his, so it’s almost as if you’re living together, but you have nothing against the idea. You’re planning to move in together soon, it’s been your trial for the official thing.
“I’m not free and you aren’t either,” you chuckle. “We still have our thesis defenses and graduation.”
“Those are nothing, we’re practically free,” he smirks, giving your hand a playful squeeze. 
If only you knew that the guy you sat with in a bathtub in freshman year would turn out to be the person you love the most… 
Harry is talking your ears off, trying to convince you to go to the movies on the weekend when you turn a corner and almost bump right into someone.
“Oh, sorry,” you apologize, only realizing that it’s Izzy you almost walked right into. 
She seems just as surprised to be facing you as you are to see her this close again. Following that party you only met a handful of times until you eventually switched rooms with a freshman. It’s been radio silence since then.
“Hi,” she breathes out and unlike the last time you faced her, there’s no sign of anger on her face as her gaze switches back and forth between you and Harry and then it slips down at your intertwined fingers. 
“Hey,” you say softly and you hear Harry mumbling the same.
It’s awkward, how the three of you are now facing each other after being silent for most of your time in college. You would be lying if you said you never thought about making up with Izzy since your fall-out, but the thought never turned into an act. 
“Um, see you guys at the graduation,” she breathes out, a nervous smile flashes through her face.
“Yeah,” you nod and return the smile with a genuine one. 
You can feel there’s something hanging in the air, something unsaid that’s been there for way longer than what feels comfortable and as the moments pass by you start to realize that it won’t be addressed this time either.
With a round of awkward nods everyone moves on and keeps walking, but then for your surprise, Izzy calls after the two of you.
“Y/N, Harry, wait!”
Turning around she is right there in front of you and she takes a deep breath before speaking up. 
“I just… I wanted to apologize. For how things happened… Between us.”
Looking away she tugs her hair behind her ears and then continues.
“I acted horrible. Like a… Like a child,” she chuckles. “I was jealous, there’s no doubt and not just because… it bothered me that Harry chose someone else who was not me.”
She attempts a smile in Harry’s way who is curiously listening to her talking while holding your hand, his thumb grazing your knuckles nonstop.
“I was not used to things not going the way I wanted them to and I never had that kind of instant connection you guys had… have. So, I’m really sorry for… well, for everything, basically.”
That was unexpected. But in the best way possible. You can tell she meant every single word and the Izzy standing in front of you is not the same girl you shared a room with. She has grown a lot and it looks good on her.
“I guess I’m sorry too,” you say. “I should have told you straight in the beginning that I liked Harry, so we wouldn’t have gotten into this whole situation.”
“Knowing who I was then, I would have still tried to take him,” she chuckles, but then her face falls, realizing this might come out wrong, but you laugh, knowing well what she meant.
“Maybe,” you shrug. 
“Anyways, I’m happy you guys are still together,” she smiles. “Good luck for whatever you are planning after school.”
“Thanks,” Harry finally speaks up and pulling you closer he kisses the crown of your head.
“Good luck to you too, Izzy,” you tell her and genuinely mean it.
With one last nod you all turn around and part way.
“Well, I did not expect that,” Harry admits, when Izzy can’t hear you anymore.
“Right? But… It was very nice of her.”
“Mhm, at least the reunion won’t be that awkward this way when we show up.”
You bite into your bottom lip as you peek up at him.
“So, we’ll still be together at our reunion?”
“Of course,” he smirks at you confidently. “Married, with a dozen kids.”
“Harry, that’s biologically impossible to have a dozen kids by then,” you laugh, smacking his chest playfully.
“Okay, then just… half a dozen,” he grins, curling his arm around your waist to pull you in for a kiss.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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mechaknight-98 · 4 months
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Home Run (NSFW) Ft. Sohee
The winner of poll for Wednesday’s fic. Hope y'all enjoy.
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Sohee had always loved baseball for the entirety of your relationship. It was so all-consuming that you often wondered if she loved the "sport" more than you. You couldn't stand the sport however mostly because of its glacial pace, and lack of stacks in moment-to-moment play. Rugby was more your speed, but you learned the tells and watched 4 full seasons of Eagles games. at this point, you knew the sport almost inside and out begrudgingly, but you loved Sohee and she did make it worth your while. when watching the last game of the season you partially zoned out as a new game on the switch came out. so you were enjoying that Muted so Sohee could get the full experience of watching her team. As the game winded down you looked towards the stat sheet to catch up on what was going on.
"Ugh well, there goes our chance at playoffs." Sohee groaned indicating that both the game and her team's season were over.
Absent you say, "Their playoff hopes were dashed ages ago and until they do something about their offensive play then they will continue to fall behind the pack."
Sohee turns to you surprised, "How do you know this she challenged
"Well, defensively they are great 12 strikeouts to 8 is insane, they also had a similar number of at-bats, hits, and batting averages. the disparity comes in runs batted in and bases on ball which contributed to an early lead for the Giants that was just too much to overcome. You explained without looking up from your switch.
"but other games have been closer!" Sohee asserted confidently.
at this point, you look up from your switch to smile at your lovely girlfriend and say, "Baby I love you but your team finished 9 out of 10 in the rankings this year. I know you say it's not a "numbers" game and there is more to it than stats but in this specific case the numbers don't lie." To soften the sting you kiss her cheek.
Sohee smiles and says, "Since when did you become an expert on my team."
"Babe," you groan, "We have watched this entire season. Now I know they are not the same team as last year but at least for this season, they had offensive issues. That much is apparent with how many games ended in one-sided games of 7-2 or 8-0, or..." Sohee seeing your point kisses you before you start running more numbers off. Quiet as it's kept she would always get so turned on when you talked baseball. She was dripping wet when she straddled you as the kiss languished into a full make-out.
"Someone's feeling frisky." you tease.
"I just can't help it. When my boyfriend knows his stuff it makes me all excited." Sohee replies demurely, she would never admit it to you but whenever you started getting super into the stats and numbers her head would begin to spin with arousal and she always had to resist the urge to just drain you then and there. Today though you were both off for the next couple of days so she could fuck you as long as she wanted. She began the horizontal tango by pushing down on the couch as she began to kiss you more fervently.
"Um, babe I hate to kill the mood but can I ask that you give me one second to let go of the switch." You asked as she broke the kiss to breathe.
"hm," Sohee huffed.
"Hey I can't massage your ass the way you like if I don't have both my hands." you tease. Sohee smiled gleefully and let you go. you run to the dock to place your switch before going back to her, and she wastes no time returning to her attack on your body, but you are not merely prey. you counterattack her kisses of your neck and collarbone by massaging her bountiful rump. She mewls in pleasure eager to egg you on. As the two of you kiss her tongue is the first to explore your mouth. She draws you in and refuses to relinquish control as she has her tongue dance along the whole of your mouth. when she breaks the kiss to breathe a trail of saliva links the two of you together still Sohee licks her lips and purrs before unfastening your belt. You groan in pleasure as she fishes out your cock and begins to suck on it. you try not to push her down as her cheeks hollow and she takes you further than ever, but the comfort and warmth of her throat cause you to buck your hips which leads to a further loss of control as you begin to relentlessly fuck her throat. You watch as your girlfriend's eyes roll back as you continue to use her throat to pleasure you. the sounds of gags break the silence of your shared apartment, as she submits to you wholly and completely. You continue to use her throat with reckless abandon
You don't stop until you feel your release and cum down her throat. As you sense, you see Sohee stare at you with a look she has never displayed before. She gets up and smiles at you lustfully. "You like using me like a little fuckdoll?" she says with angered lust.
"You like just using my throat like it's your toy?" she pressures. She begins to corner you and of course, this leads to the bedroom. she pushes you down and begins to suck your cock again. you groan as she takes you down her throat, but this time it's different as she begins to manipulate her throat muscles in a way that's foreign but insane to you.
"Oh God," you scream as Sohee works over your cock. Sohee smiles and eggs you on
"You gonna cum for mommy. Come on cum down Mommy's throat like the good boy you are and I just might let you fuck my pussy." You can't hold out much longer as Sohee continues to relentlessly suck and gorge herself on your rod before you cum again, but she's not done with you yet. she begins to rub your cock to get it hard again
Your overwhelmed body barely can stop the moan of pleasure and discomfort as Sohee takes you inside. She smiles at Sickly while watching you squirm under her.
“Babe please stop,” you beg but Sohee begins to ride you oblivious to your discomfort she chases her high.
“Oh I just love how you fill me up,” she says as she begins her deadly body roll her tight tummy hypnotizes you as she continues grinding on your cock. She continues to chase her release despite your protests. You groan and wince as she pushes you further and further past your
limits, while she loses herself more and more to pleasure. Eventually, you pass out.
When you wake up your head is pounding as you feel something wet and tight on your crotch it's Sohee. She's passed out while you're still inside her. You chuckle and adjust so the two of you can cuddle together. When you get into a comfortable position Sohee nestles closer.
“I may not know baseball but you are my favorite home run,” you say as you fall asleep again
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edenesth · 5 days
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TWTHH Spinoff: Little Touch of Heaven [2]
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Pairing: physician!Yunho x herbalist!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 8.1k
Summary: Dedicating his life to his work, Yunho had never bothered to entertain the idea of settling down. Despite encountering many charming women throughout his career, none had sparked his desire for companionship. But everything shifted when he met a certain herbalist whose medicinal knowledge seemed to surpass even his own. What began as mere intrigue might have gradually developed into affection.
Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist
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"Yep, you definitely have a crush on her," Jongho's voice startled the physician as he appeared soundlessly by the entrance of the House of Lotus just as Yunho finished recounting what happened to the general. His wife listened patiently beside him, her smile knowing.
"What—hey! Have you been eavesdropping this entire time? That's rude. This is a private and confidential conversation between the couple and myself," the doctor stammered, feeling embarrassed beyond belief. He couldn't believe he had been foolish enough to think this could actually stay between him and Lady Park. At this point, the whole estate was going to find out.
"You seem oddly defensive, Physician Jung. That just further proves you are flustered and that you do indeed like Miss Ryu. Besides, I don't see anything private and confidential about that story. Sounds more like your desperate attempt to save face," the assistant retorted in his usual clever tone as he entered the room, having received a nod of approval from his master.
Yunho let out a defeated sigh, realising that while he might stand a chance at winning an argument with Hongjoong, the same couldn't be said for Jongho. The assistant could be merciless and would stop at nothing to have the last word. Glaring at the younger man, he muttered, "Yes, yes. Just you wait until your turn comes. I'd like to see how cool you are when you meet the girl of your dreams."
"Don't worry, that'll never happen," Jongho answered, his tone smug.
With a shake of his head, Seonghwa straightened up, "He's right, Yunho. Even the blind can tell you have a crush. But what is it, Jongho? Did something come up?"
The assistant nodded, "Yes, Royal Secretary Choi is here with the latest reports and minutes of the past week's assemblies. He's waiting for you in the study, unless you'd like me to bring him here too."
Choking on his tea, the doctor stared up at him, bewildered, "And why the hell would you do that? It's enough that you two already know about this, now you want the royal secretary to hear about it too?"
At that, the general and his wife burst into giggles. Finally satisfied and deciding not to tease the poor guy any further, Seonghwa pushed himself off his seat, "Have a little mercy on him, gosh," he said, turning to his wife and pressing a kiss onto her head, "You ladies continue. I'll see you later, my love."
"This is how you repay me for treating your wife," Yunho grumbled.
Pausing at the entrance of the room, the general softened and turned around, "You know, it's nice to see this side of you. This Miss Ryu must be pretty amazing to make you like this, I approve of her already. Make sure you invite us to the wedding," he said before leaving with Jongho.
"W-wedding? I don't even think she likes me at all. If anything, she probably hates me after what happened," the physician sighed.
Lady Park smiled reassuringly, a hand stroking her baby bump as she spoke, "I disagree. She did agree to teach you about herbs, tried to save you from your fall, and was even kind enough to bring you a change of clothes when she could have left you be."
"So, you think she likes me back?" His eyes brightened with hope.
She considered her words carefully before responding, "Hmm, not necessarily."
His disappointment was palpable as he slumped slightly, "My lady, please don't confuse me further."
With a gentle chuckle, the mistress clarified, "What I mean is that she probably does not hate you at all. Sure, you were a little clumsy around her, but that's not nearly enough to make her hate you. There's a chance she might grow to like you back. Don't be too dejected, Yunho; there's still hope."
God, I sure hope so.
Meanwhile, your parents hadn't stopped talking about the physician since that day. Your father eagerly handed over one of his many spare outfits kept at the store for emergencies, finally putting it to good use after Yunho's fall left his clothes soaked. You recalled trying your hardest to keep a straight face as the tall man emerged in your father's hanbok, which was slightly too short for him, ending above his ankles and making him look rather ridiculous.
"Right, well, I still have much left to do today. I don't think I'll be able to finish in time if I have to teach you. Perhaps you should come back another day, Physician Jung."
That wasn't a lie.
It wasn't that you were angry with him or anything; you could tell he was remorseful with his endless apologies. You could imagine the embarrassment he was feeling, and you didn't really blame him, but you genuinely wanted to finish up with your Sophora root harvesting, which you had obviously failed to even begin thanks to him. So you would really appreciate it if he could come back some other time for his session.
"Of course, Miss Ryu. Again, I'm so sorry—"
You lifted a hand to stop him with a shake of your head, "It's fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I really have no time to talk."
It had been a few days since then.
According to your father, Yunho had left somewhat dejectedly after purchasing a good amount of those Chinese herbs you'd recommended for Lady Park. You supposed that meant they were effective, and you were just glad you had been able to help.
"Sunshine, you must have been too blunt. You'll scare him away like that, and you shouldn't because he's such a good guy. For all we know, this could be the start of something great," your mother said as she handed you a bowl of congee for breakfast.
You rolled your eyes in response, "Oh my god, mother. You've been saying that for the past few days. I heard you the first time."
Just as you were about to start eating, she smacked you on the arm, scolding, "Then why won't you reflect on yourself and change? You really want to give me high blood pressure, don't you?"
"Ow!" you rubbed your arm, pouting at her, "What do you want me to do? It's not my fault he hasn't shown up yet. Besides, if that was all it took to scare him away, then maybe he's not the one," you said before making a face when you realised what you'd just said, "More importantly, nothing is going on between us. He's only coming to learn more about herbs and improve as a medical practitioner. Seems to me like you and father are making a fuss out of nothing."
Your father sighed as he took a seat across from you, "Listen, sunshine. I can tell he likes you. It was evident in his behaviour that day. He's usually so composed, but he seemed genuinely flustered."
After hastily finishing the congee, you chuckled and set your bowl down, "Come on, father. You've only ever been in one relationship. Since when are you an expert in this department?" you teased before growing serious and wiping your mouth clean.
"And for the last time, my dearest father and mother, the two people I love most in the world, can you please respect my wishes? I won't be able to continue seeing Physician Jung if you keep making things weird like this. I've made my stance on marriage very clear. I'm not interested, and I still am not. I've finally found a friend who shares my passion for herbs, and I want to keep things that way. Please don't make me regret it."
As you spoke those honest words, a stunned silence filled the room. Your parents exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from surprise to realisation. They had always admired your patience, your selflessness, and your unwavering dedication to your family. But in their pursuit of what they thought was best for you, they had overlooked your desires and feelings.
Your father's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently squeeze your hand, "Sunshine, we never meant to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured. We only wanted what we thought was best for you, but we see now that we may have been misguided."
Your mother nodded, her voice trembling with emotion, "You've always been so selfless. We should have listened to your wishes instead of imposing our own desires onto you. We're truly sorry."
Seeing the genuine remorse in their eyes, your heart softened. While you understood their actions were driven by good intentions, they may not have realised that their approach inadvertently caused you more distress than anything. You were just relieved they were willing to listen to you and acknowledge their mistake.
"It's okay, father, mother," you said softly, giving their hands a reassuring squeeze, "I know you only want what's best for me. Let's learn from this and move forward together."
"Here goes nothing," Yunho muttered under his breath as the apothecary came into view. This would be his first appearance since the embarrassing last impression he had left, and he was determined to salvage it. Holding his breath, he stepped into the store, expecting to see Mr. Ryu alone at his counter as usual. However, he was surprised to find you dressed more formally than usual, appearing to be preparing to go somewhere.
Upon hearing his entrance, you turned to face him with a raised brow, "Oh, you're here. I'm sorry, but I won't be able to teach you today. Our foreign medicine supplier has arrived, and I have to go to the ship dock to collect our latest batch of orders."
The physician felt like he could finally breathe again, relieved by your casual reaction to his presence. Perhaps Lady Park was right; you weren't angry with him nor did you hate him. Smiling, he reassured you, "Oh, it's alright. I understand. I can come back another day. Are you going with Mr. Ryu then? Will the shop be closing?"
You shook your head, "Oh no, not at all. It's just me. My father remains here, and business will go on as usual. He's at the back of the store; he'll be here soon if you wish to speak with him."
She's going alone? To the dock?
"I... uh, I'm just wondering, is it really safe for you to go alone? Places like that are often crowded with men. And how will you manage to carry all those supplies by yourself?" he asked, his worry evident.
With a smirk, you replied, "Are you underestimating me, Physician Jung? Do you truly believe it's my first time handling this? I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, I'll manage just fine."
Right on cue, your father emerged from the back of the store, "Ah, you've come, Physician Jung! Are you here for another session with my daughter? She may have already mentioned her plans for today, but perhaps you could accompany her."
Before Yunho could respond, you firmly shook your head, "There's no need for that, father. I'm certain he's a very busy man and probably has better things to do than accompany me to the dock."
The physician quickly interjected, "No, I don't. That's why I'm here today. I don't mind going with you. It could be a valuable experience, and I might learn something from it too," he reasoned.
You sighed, not oblivious to the knowing grin your father was sending the taller man. With a roll of your eyes, you motioned for him to follow, "Suit yourself. Come along then, there's no time to waste."
As the two of you set out towards the ship dock in town, his tall frame loomed beside you, serving the fantastic purpose of shielding you from the glaring sun. Breaking the silence, you ventured, "So, I'm assuming the Codonopsis roots and Colla Corii Asini were effective in helping Lady Park feel better? Since you got more on your last visit."
He beamed, nodding in agreement, "Oh, yes! They really were. I was planning to tell you about it on my last visit, but, well, you know..." He trailed off, trying to move past the incident before continuing, "But yes, they did wonders. Her morning sickness and fatigue improved immensely soon after taking only the first batch. If we continue to administer this, she should be able to get through the first three months with ease. And I... I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you so much, Miss Ryu."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread in your heart at the knowledge that your expertise had been put to good use, that you had been of help. Moments like these made you feel as though all the hard work you had put into studying had paid off; the sense of accomplishment was truly remarkable. With a nonchalant shrug, you responded earnestly, "Just doing my job."
Becoming increasingly intrigued by the conversation about medicine, he eagerly delved further, "I've been pondering it, and I'm still astounded by your depth of knowledge, even in foreign herbs. Frankly, I believe you surpass some senior experts in the field. It may be impertinent of me to ask, but... what's your secret?"
With a soft laugh, you shook your head, "Sometimes, there are aspects that textbooks and conventional lessons fail to impart. That's why hands-on experience is crucial. There's no secret to my knowledge; I simply allow my curiosity to guide me and take the initiative to delve deeper beyond the fundamentals. You'll see firsthand in just a moment. Perhaps it's good you came."
Just when he thought his admiration for you had reached its peak, you consistently proved him wrong. Beyond your shared passion for medicinal knowledge, there was an intangible quality that distinguished you from other women he had met. You exuded confidence in yourself, not in a brash manner, nor did you conform to the typical feminine archetype attempting to win his favour. Instead, you were authentically yourself. Every action you took reflected your unique personality, which he found irresistibly appealing.
Where have you been all this while?
He couldn't fathom that you had been so close yet remained unknown to him for all these years. As a devoted patron of your father's apothecary, he had frequented the establishment without ever realising that you were nearby, just behind the store's walls. He couldn't be more grateful to fate for allowing him to finally cross paths with you.
"Woah, watch your step!" Your warning snapped him out of his thoughts as you pulled him close, narrowly avoiding a hole in the uneven road. You slapped him on the arm and said, "Please pay attention to where you're going. The roads here won't be as well-paved as the ones in the city, since we're now on the outskirts. Come on and stay close; we're almost there."
With a chuckle, he rubbed his arm and playfully saluted, "Yes, ma'am." He couldn't believe you had slapped him so casually; no one had ever done that. His heart fluttered at the interaction, realising that's what he liked so much about you. Since day one, you have been unpretentious. Around you, he felt comfortable enough to be himself again. There was no need to uphold the image of the perfect physician everyone knew him to be. He could be silly, clumsy, a mess, and you'd never make him feel bad about it.
As you arrived at the ship dock, Yunho's sense of wonder was palpable. The place bustled with activity, just as he had anticipated, mostly with men who appeared to be merchants conducting exchanges or, like yourself, collecting orders directly from suppliers. He made sure to stay close to you, feeling reassured when you took hold of his wrist to guide him through the crowd towards your destination.
"First time here?" you smirked, noting his slightly overwhelmed expression, to which he nodded hesitantly, "Y-yes."
You snickered, "Figures. Just stick with me, and you'll be fine."
He nervously bit his lip, "Yeah, I'm not going anywhere without you. Don't worry."
"See that ship right at the end?" you asked, pointing towards one of the largest vessels in the area as you both approached it. He nodded in acknowledgement.
"That's our supplier, kind of a family business," you explained, "The Guo family from China has been in this trade for years. They're known to grow their own herbs and supply them all over the region."
You smirked as the familiar face of Madam Guo came into view, "And there's the lady boss who handles customers while the boss checks the stocks. Don't worry, she's actually the owner's wife, so you won't embarrass yourself like you did before again," you teased, playfully reminding him of his previous mistake, which flustered him.
"Oh my god, it was one mistake—"
A new voice chimed in as you both reached the ship, "Ah, my dearest Miss Ryu!" The woman exclaimed with a thick Chinese accent as she stepped forward to embrace you. You chuckled, returning the hug, "It's lovely to see you again, Madam Guo."
"And who might this handsome young man be? Finally got yourself a chaperone, I see," Madam Guo asked, her playful tone evident as she wiggled her brows.
You scoffed in disbelief, "Him, a chaperone? More like the other way around. But anyway, he's a friend, or perhaps an apprentice, whichever works. He's a physician here to learn more about herbs."
Did she just call me her friend...?
"Y-yes, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madam Guo. My name is Jung Yunho, and I'm a physician just as Miss Ryu said," he greeted, bowing respectfully, doing everything to remain composed and hide the fact that he was dying on the inside.
The middle-aged woman grinned knowingly, "Nice to meet you too, Physician Jung. But is that really all you are? What a shame, you two would make a cute couple."
While he sputtered like a fool, you snorted and gestured for her to focus, "Please, let's get down to business."
"Of course, sweetie. Follow me," she said, throwing a teasing wink at Yunho before wrapping an arm around you and leading you towards the bags of supplies lined up in front of the ship, "So, how are your parents doing, Miss Ryu?" As you engaged with the woman, the doctor couldn't shake her words from his mind. 'A cute couple' — he liked that idea more than he cared to admit. If only it could come true, he wouldn't mind being mistaken for a couple with you.
The bond between you and Yunho strengthened significantly after your eventful joint excursion to the ship dock. He proved to be quite helpful, offering to carry the supplies you had collected.
However, it was an incident during your return to the apothecary that truly changed your perception of him. As you passed by an injured man involved in a carriage accident, his demeanour shifted instantly. With remarkable professionalism, he attended to the wounded man, showcasing his expertise and skill. It was a side of him you hadn't seen before, and in that moment, you couldn't help but feel a newfound admiration for him.
For the first time, he embodied the charismatic and excellent Physician Jung who was widely praised by the townspeople. You finally understood why he had earned such acclaim for his expertise.
While you had grown confident enough to consider him a good friend, the doctor, on the other hand, was grappling with his feelings for you. After each session, he would return to the general's estate seeking advice from the mistress on the best approach to pursue you without being too forward. Despite his desire to openly court you, he wanted to ensure that your feelings were mutual before making any moves, fearing he might scare you away.
Following Lady Park's suggestion, he opted for a more gradual approach, using the opportunity to learn about herbs as a means to get to know you better, and vice versa. By taking things slowly, he hoped to foster mutual feelings between you.
As he prepared to enjoy his lunch break at his clinic, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of spending the evening with you. Tonight's session held particular significance as you would be teaching him how to harvest specific nighttime herbs for optimal quality. It promised to be a new and exciting experience, and he was just happy about the opportunity to share it with you.
"What's got you smiling like a creep?"
Just like that, the sound of an annoyingly familiar voice sliced through the doctor's pleasant mood like a knife, abruptly snapping him out of his reverie. His smile vanished as soon as he locked eyes with the dressmaker. With an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes, he responded, "What do you want, Kim Hongjoong?"
Yunho held his breath momentarily, his mind racing with anxious thoughts. What if Seonghwa had betrayed him and told his friend everything about Miss Ryu? What if Hongjoong was here to tease him after finding out? Oh god, his life would be over—
But to his surprise, the older man's expression was one of genuine distress as he took a seat across from the physician, "Look, ugh... I never thought I'd say this, but I need your help. Can you lend me an ear? I'm... well, I'm in a bit of a situation."
What started as a brief lunchtime conversation stretched into half a day, with the dressmaker pouring out his heart about his latest client, the enigmatic Miss Baek, whom he clearly harboured feelings for. By the end of their exchange, though a bit flustered that Hongjoong had caught wind of his recent visits to Ryu's Apothecary and your presence there, he was simply relieved to have managed to extricate himself from the conversation in time to close up shop. But one thing was certain; any fleeting relief Yunho felt at the general's discretion evaporated instantly.
Of course, Seonghwa told him everything.
Relieved to see the dressmaker finally departing from his clinic, the physician wasted no time in packing up his belongings and closing the shop. If only Hongjoong hadn't taken up so much of his time with his endless chatter, Yunho would have already been on his way to the apothecary. He cursed the talkative man for being so long-winded; he had worked hard to gain your trust, and he didn't want to jeopardise it again due to tardiness.
"Ugh, I hope that Miss Baek continues to give him a hard time. If I end up late because of him, he's going to pay," the doctor grumbled to himself as he hurried out of his clinic and towards your store. While part of him knew you wouldn't mind him being slightly late, he didn't want you to be okay with it. He wanted to be a man of his word, to be someone you could trust.
Arriving promptly, Yunho found Mr. Ryu in the midst of closing up. The elderly man's face lit up at the sight of the taller man, "Ah, Physician Jung, right on time! She's in the back, as usual, waiting for you. Now, it'll be late by the time you two finish up. I'm trusting you to escort her home after your session, is that alright?"
Yunho straightened up and bowed respectfully, "Of course, Mr. Ryu! Don't worry, I'll ensure she gets home safely."
"Very well then, I'm leaving her in your hands," the apothecary said with a teasing wink, "You've got this."
Feeling a flush of warmth in his cheeks, Yunho waved your father goodbye, understanding the elderly man's implication. It wasn't a secret that your parents wished for you to settle down, and they had made it clear on more than one occasion that the doctor had their approval. The only remaining factor was you and your feelings.
"Oh hey, there you are," you greeted warmly from your usual spot amidst the plantation, a natural smile gracing your features as you met his gaze. It was a smile that stirred something in his heart, though he kept that to himself, "Before you come over, could you please grab me a pair of harvesting scissors and the herb stripper?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a salute, already accustomed to your directives. By now, he was familiar with most of the tools on your rack. Over the past few sessions, he had made an effort to acquaint himself with the intricacies of your work, determined to be helpful even as he continued to learn. Besides, he wanted you to know that you could rely on him, and that he could shoulder some of your burdens. He wanted you to see him the way he saw you.
"Thank you," you murmured, taking the tools from him and feeling him settle beside you. Your hands immediately got to work, launching into an automatic lecture tone as your focus zeroed in on the four moon garden herbs you would be harvesting tonight: the White Coneflower, the Lavender, the Culinary Sage, and the Silver Queen.
"Beautiful," he whispered, his gaze fixed on your side profile illuminated by the moonlight and the surrounding lamps instead of the herbs. It was the first time he had seen you in this soft, dim light, and you looked truly ethereal, the atmosphere lending an intimate and romantic feel to the moment.
Oblivious to his stare, you smiled in response, "They are exquisite, aren't they? Sometimes it pains me to have to harvest them. But they serve a greater purpose than just sitting here and looking pretty."
"Well, I believe that's what adds to their beauty, wouldn't you agree? The fact that they serve a purpose beyond mere aesthetics," he remarked, subtly hinting at his admiration for your depth and substance. To him, you were more than just a pretty face, and he found that incredibly appealing.
Noticing a stray strand of hair framing your face, he instinctively reached out to tuck it behind your ear. You tensed at his touch, turning to meet his gaze, and in that moment, he realised what he had just done. Clearing his throat nervously, he stammered, "I-I was just trying to help. It looked like it was bothering you."
You nodded, trying to mask the fluttering sensation in your chest at his gesture. He was probably just being polite, you reasoned with yourself, but you couldn't deny the allure of his presence in the soft glow of the moonlight. Quickly refocusing on your task, you blinked and responded, "Oh, umm... thank you. I appreciate it."
The tension in the air was palpable as you finished the remainder of tonight's session, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words and newfound awareness. It was as if a shift had occurred, leaving you both acutely conscious of each other's presence in a way that hadn't been there before.
As you locked up the apothecary for the night, the physician turned to you with a casual invitation, "Would you like to grab something to eat before heading home?" You paused, considering the offer. Your parents were likely done with dinner by now, so joining him wouldn't be a bad idea. With a nod, you replied, "Sure, let's go."
Despite his calm demeanour, a sense of anticipation fluttered in his chest as you walked side by side, his mind buzzing with excitement, "Come on, I know a stall that sells amazing black bean noodles," he suggested, leading the way with a smile.
Moments later, you were both seated at the stall, eagerly devouring the delicious noodles. With wide eyes, you exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, you weren't lying. This really is amazing." He chuckled at your enthusiasm before reaching over to wipe a stray noodle from the corner of your lips with his thumb, "You eat like a child, you know that?" he teased gently.
Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through you at his words. Despite your unladylike eating habits, he didn't seem to mind. At that moment, you found yourself imagining what it would be like to be with someone like him, and surprisingly, it didn't seem so bad at all. In fact, it felt quite nice to imagine being by his side — Jung Yunho.
Just when the physician felt confident about the progress between the two of you, just as he was considering broaching the topic of a potential courtship, an unexpected turn of events threw everything off course. An argument erupted during one of your recent sessions, escalating into a silent standoff that led to his prolonged absence.
It all began innocently enough, during one of your routine sessions. Feeling more at ease around you, he summoned the courage to ask, "I was wondering... do you know of any herbs that could heal or remove scars permanently?" Your response was a curious look, prompting him to elaborate, "I've been searching for solutions to fully eliminate Lady Park's scars for a while now, but to no avail. I've sought advice from others, but no one seems to have a solution. Given your extensive knowledge, I thought you might be aware of any foreign herbs that could help."
After pondering for a moment, you nodded slowly, "Actually, yes. There's a herb called the Gotu Kola. It's renowned for treating various conditions, particularly wounds and skin issues. There have been rare cases of it being used to heal scars." His hope surged until you added, "But... it's native to India and Indonesia, and there haven't been any imports of this herb so far."
"Oh... I see," he sighed dejectedly, his shoulders slumping.
Disheartened by his disappointment when he left your father's apothecary, you became determined to find a solution. After diligent inquiries among experts, you finally unearthed a crucial piece of information: the herb was indeed present in Joseon, though in limited quantities and not widely known.
"Really? The herb is here in Joseon? Where?" Yunho's spirits lifted upon hearing your update. However, all hope plummeted when you disclosed its location, "Apparently, an Indian traveller planted some on specific parts of the Naksan mountain some years ago. It thrives in the well-drained soil, moist position, and full sun exposure."
"The Naksan mountain...? Then it's practically inaccessible," he murmured, his earlier enthusiasm extinguished once more. You furrowed your brow, "What do you mean? Of course, it's possible. We could embark on a journey to find it ourselves. Where there's a will, there's a way."
He massaged his temples, "Do you have any idea how perilous trekking a mountain can be? We're not seasoned adventurers. We might not even survive the trek to the plant, let alone make it back in one piece. If it were so simple, don't you think someone would have already ventured there to harvest it and capitalise on it? There must be a reason it's not readily available here, don't you think?"
"Forget it, just... forget I asked," he implored.
But you persisted, adamant in your determination. You went out of your way to conduct thorough research, pinpoint the exact location of the herb and gather information on all the necessary essentials for the journey. Excitedly, you broached the topic once more, only to be met with a less-than-favourable response. Yunho sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, "Please, Miss Ryu, let's just drop it."
Frustrated by his reluctance, you erupted, "If you're a coward, just admit it. You sought a solution, and I've offered one. How can you give up so easily without even trying?"
"A coward...? Is fear the only thing you hear from me after everything I've said?" he retorted incredulously.
"Well, is it not?!" you challenged.
He scoffed, "Please, don't be stupid. You're not thinking clearly, and I don't see the point in arguing further. I've made my decision. We're not doing this, and that's final. It's just not feasible."
And since then, there had been no sight or sound of him. According to your father, he would drop by only for medication, never staying to see you. It had been a week since then, and if he thought his silent treatment would deter you, he was sorely mistaken. It only fueled your determination.
I'll prove you wrong, Jung Yunho.
Using the week to make all necessary preparations, you informed your parents that you would be venturing out to gather herbs. It was technically true, though you omitted certain details to avoid a lecture. You understood that they would worry, believing it to be dangerous, especially if you were going alone. However, you had always been independent, confident in your ability to handle things on your own.
You couldn't wait to see the look on the doctor's face as you presented him with the herb, the look on his face as you called him a coward, and even more so, the look on his face when he realised just how wrong he had been and how right you were.
As you began your journey, optimism fueled your steps. Everything unfolded smoothly, just as you had envisioned. With a trusty map in hand, you followed the right path, guided by determination. Kind passersby, fellow travellers or herb pickers like yourself, helped point you in the right direction when needed. All seemed well until the distant rumble of thunder and flashes of lightning pierced the air, causing your stomach to sink. But refusing to let it deter you, you pressed on toward your destination.
Goddamnit, not now please!
In your haste, you brushed against branches, tearing your hanbok fabric and leaving tiny cuts on your skin. At times like this, you couldn't help but think about the physician. Perhaps you missed having that gentle giant by your side. Pushing aside such thoughts, you focused on the task at hand. Despite the drizzle, you persevered and were determined to reach your goal.
Nearing the spot marked on the map, you muttered to yourself, "Come on, it should be around here somewhere." Scanning the surroundings for the distinct plant with fan-shaped green leaves and delicate flowers. But as the sky darkened and the rain intensified, it became increasingly difficult to see. Frustration bubbled up as you searched, muttering curses under your breath.
"Shit, shit, shit, where is it?"
In a moment of distraction, you failed to notice a sizable rock in your path, resulting in a twisted ankle and a painful fall. With a cry, you landed on the ground, scratching your palms as you shield your face. As you struggled to rise, the realisation of your predicament set in. Your ankle throbbed, swelling with each passing moment.
Oh god, how am I going to get out of here?
Desperate and defeated, you leaned against a rock, tears streaming down your face. Regret washed over you as you cursed your decision to go on this journey alone. Maybe Yunho had been right; perhaps you should have listened to him. Now, stranded and injured, you felt foolish and vulnerable. But as you looked around for something that could help you walk, a glimmer of hope emerged as you spotted a patch of what appeared to be Gotu Kola.
With trembling hands, you retrieved the rough sketch you had brought along, confirming your discovery with wide-eyed astonishment, "Oh my god, I finally found you," you whispered, a surge of determination rising within you once more.
Meanwhile, Yunho entered the apothecary with a heavy heart, closing his umbrella as he stepped into the shop to collect his usual batch of medicine for Lady Park. His concern deepened when he saw your father pacing anxiously, "Is everything alright, Mr. Ryu?" he inquired, furrowing his brows.
The elderly man looked up, relief flooding his features at the doctor's presence, "Oh, Physician Jung! Look, I'm not sure what's going on between you and my daughter, but please, you have to help find her!" he pleaded, his voice trembling with worry.
Yunho's heart squeezed uncomfortably at the urgency in the apothecary's voice, "Wh-what? What do you mean? Where did she go?" he asked, his own anxiety mounting.
Your father began to ramble, explaining that you had mentioned going out to pick herbs earlier in the day but hadn't specified a location, "She's been gone for more than half a day now, and it's raining heavily. I'm worried sick about her. What if something's happened?" he fretted.
The doctor's breath caught in his throat at the revelation. He could hazard a guess as to where you might have gone, but he needed confirmation, "I... I might have a clue where she went, but I need to check. Can I please see her work desk?" he requested urgently.
"Yes, of course. Anything to help you find her," Mr. Ryu agreed with a nod, desperation evident in his eyes.
Approaching your desk, Yunho wasted no time searching through your notes, where you meticulously recorded every discovery. His heart skipped a beat when he reached the final page, where a rough sketch of Naksan mountain with a red X marked a specific area, accompanied by the words 'Gotu Kola' scrawled above it.
Oh my god, I cannot believe this woman.
Shocked and alarmed, the physician knew he had to find you, and fast. The thought of anything happening to you filled him with dread. He couldn't bear the idea of something befalling you, especially since your actions were spurred by his own request. If only he hadn't broached the topic of finding a remedy for scars. If only he hadn't spoken to you so harshly. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was all his fault.
"I'll find her, Mr. Ryu. I promise, I'll make this right," he assured your father before setting out, clutching your notebook in his hands and carrying a bag of essentials the elderly man had helped pack. Braving the harsh wind and rain, he made his way toward you.
In the meantime, you huddled under the protective canopy of a tree, knees drawn close to your chest, feeling utterly helpless. Despite succeeding in gathering as much Gotu Kola as possible, you were still stranded atop the mountain. The rain showed no signs of relenting, and your sprained ankle made descent impossible. As you sat there, feeling the cold seep into your bones, you could only pray that someone would pass by and notice you in your predicament.
As time dragged on, your hopes of being discovered began to wane. Despite the rain lightening, the darkening evening sky brought a fresh wave of anxiety, your heart pounding in your chest. No one was going to find you now. Would you even survive the night on the mountain? You shivered uncontrollably in your wet clothes, your untreated ankle throbbing with pain, and wounds scattered across your body. It seemed unlikely you would make it.
Damn, I wish that idiot was here...
Oddly, amidst the despair, your thoughts turned to the physician. If only he were here with you, perhaps the situation wouldn't feel so distressful. With hooded eyes, you stared blankly ahead, silently wishing for him to miraculously appear before you.
You furrowed your brows as a figure approached, the sound of your name echoing through the rain-soaked air. The voice was unmistakable, and you snorted in disbelief. Could it really be Jung Yunho? But as he knelt before you, his hands gripping your shoulders, his concern felt all too real.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice urgent.
You blinked several times, reaching out tentatively to touch his cheek. To your astonishment, he was solid, undeniably present. Tears welled up in your eyes as you broke into sobs, throwing your arms around his neck and holding him close, "Oh my god, I can't believe you're actually here," you whispered through your tears, "I guess you aren't such a coward after all."
He sighed in relief, returning your embrace and stroking your head gently, "No, I am. I am a coward because I was so afraid, so scared of... of losing you," he confessed, his voice strained with emotion. As he pulled back slightly to look at you, his expression was filled with worry, "Please don't ever scare me like that again. I told you it was dangerous. Look at you," he scolded gently.
"I can't believe you ventured all this way alone. I thought you were smarter than this, but I guess even smart people can be idiots sometimes." The doctor in him immediately began assessing all of your injuries, retrieving a bandage from his bag. With careful hands, he secured your sprained ankle to support it and prevent further swelling and bruising. Once he finished, he pulled out an extra layer of cloth from the bag your father had packed and wrapped you snugly in it, ensuring you stayed warm for the time being.
You scoffed, defiance flashing in your eyes despite the fluttering of your heart at his earlier words and his caring actions, "Say what you want, but I have no regrets because I found it..." you said, holding up the bag full of the Gotu Kola herb, "The only regret I have is not knowing it would rain. Otherwise, I would have made it just fine."
He was momentarily speechless before a small laugh escaped him as he shook his head, "As much as I love how determined you are, it frustrates me sometimes."
"You do? Love how determined I am...?" you echoed shyly, feeling a blush creeping onto your cheeks, or maybe it was a fever.
He smiled warmly, gently cupping your cheek, "I do. But as much as I'd love to confess my feelings to you right now, we really need to get out of here. We'll have plenty of time to talk when we're safe. Now, come on, hop on my back." Turning around and gesturing toward his back, he offered you a way out of the predicament and perhaps, into a new beginning... with him.
Somewhere along the way, you lost consciousness on Yunho's back. Trying to maintain composure, he carefully navigated the descent from the mountain. Fortunately, upon reaching the bottom, kind townspeople offered a ride back to your home on their cart. He held you close throughout, hoping to provide warmth with his body heat, knowing the fever was taking its toll.
He found it hard to believe he had actually climbed a mountain to rescue someone. Normally, such feats were beyond his capabilities. But the mere thought of you in danger propelled him forward. If only you knew the power you had over him, driving him to extraordinary lengths.
Upon arrival, your parents swiftly attended to you, guiding the physician to your room where he diligently treated your wounds. Drifting in and out of consciousness, you found solace in the familiar surroundings of your room as your mother changed your wet clothes. Spotting Yunho beside you once more, tending to your injuries, you caught his gaze. He smiled and leaned down to kiss your forehead, whispering, "It's okay, you're safe now. Rest, sweetheart."
And you did, your heart finally at ease.
The following days passed in a blur as he visited you daily to check on your recovery. Today was no different, and upon his arrival, you recognised the familiar scent of the tonic he brought. It was the standard blend of herbs used to revitalise patients with colds. As he attempted to feed you, you protested, "I can do it myself."
Yunho clicked his tongue, moving the spoon out of your reach, "Just be good and let me take care of you," he urged gently.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you relented, allowing him to feed you. Swallowing the bitter medicine with a wince, you remarked, "You've already been taking good care of me for the past few days. Don't you have a clinic to run, Physician Jung?"
He chuckled, wiping the corner of your lips with his thumb, "Are you worried about me?"
Blushing, you looked away while he continued, "Don't worry, I have a substitute physician for whenever I'm not around. Besides, how can I focus on work there if I'm busy worrying about you?"
Turning back to him, you bit your lip nervously, "So, about that confession you were talking about..."
With a grin, the physician set down the bowl on the table beside your bed before reaching for your hand, "I've been waiting for you to ask for some time now. It's probably no surprise, but I... I have feelings for you."
As you squeezed his hand, he continued, "I'm not sure when it all started, but perhaps I might have liked you since our first meeting. Despite usually being composed, seeing you just threw me off. Truthfully, I've never given the idea of settling down a thought. All my life, I've been married to my work. Sure, I've met countless women who tried to appeal to me, but I've never been swayed."
Gently intertwining your fingers, he added, "Just when I thought I never would, you came along and changed everything. Initially, I thought it might have been your extensive medicinal knowledge that intrigued me, but now I realise it's much more than that. I've been waiting to be sure you liked me back before making my move, but then..."
Tears welled up in his eyes as he confessed, "God, you have no idea how much I regret putting you in danger. I should have spoken to you instead of avoiding you. When I found out you were gone, I felt like my life was over... I wouldn't have forgiven myself if anything were to happen to you," his voice cracked with emotion.
"I'm here now, you saved me," you reassured, gently cupping his face and turning it towards you, tears clouding your own vision.
He sighed, leaning into your touch, "You are, and I need you to know that I care deeply about you. I want to be the one to protect you, to be the one you can rely on, and to be there for you. Most of all, I want... to be loved by you. Will you let me be the one?"
"If not you, then who else?" you teased.
The atmosphere instantly lifted, and your smile illuminated his mood. "You'll be my only one, Yunho," you whispered, closing your eyes as he leaned in to capture your lips with his. Pulling back slightly, he murmured against your lips, "And you'll be mine."
Your father jumped with excitement outside your room, while your mother's joyous tears flowed as she eavesdropped. Finally, their hopes and dreams were becoming reality. They had worried you wouldn't give Yunho a chance after declaring your disinterest in marriage. They were relieved to see you letting him in. With a smack on your father's arm, your mother scolded him, "Alright, now that's settled, get back to work." Despite the playful reprimand, your father left happily, a smile adorning his face.
As weeks passed and your routine continued, with sessions held every few days, the significant change was evident – the physician was now more than just a friend. Stepping into the apothecary, he greeted, "I'm here, Mr. Ryu!" The elderly man grinned, waving back, "You might as well call me father already, Yunho-yah," he joked.
He blushed, bowing before hurrying to the back to tell you what your father had said, "Sweetheart, you won't believe what your father just said to me..." he began, trailing off as he realised you weren't there.
"Sweetheart...? Where are you—"
His words were interrupted by a mischievous "Boo!" from behind, startling him. In his surprise, he yelped and stumbled over his own feet, falling backwards. You reached out to help, but he grabbed your arm, causing both of you to tumble down together. As you landed on him, laughter erupted, reminiscent of the first time it happened.
"You cheeky thing," he murmured, leaning in for a kiss. When you pulled back sooner than expected, he let out a small whine, "Wait, what did my father say to you?"
"I'll tell you if you kiss me again, pretty please," he teased, a smirk spreading across your face, "Only because you asked so nicely," you replied with a chuckle.
Just as you leaned in to kiss him again, your father's voice interrupted from the entrance, "Hey sunshine, is the latest batch of ginseng ready yet— oh. Gosh, don't mind me, kids!"
As the elderly man hastily left, you buried your face in the doctor's chest, feeling embarrassed by the interruption. It seemed this was something you'd both have to get used to - the occasional interruption in your private moments. Yet, when you looked up and saw Yunho grinning, you realised he didn't mind. Like you, he was simply happy to be part of your little family.
You once thought it impossible to find someone like your father—someone patient enough to love you despite your unladylike habits, borderline stubborn nature, and no-nonsense attitude, someone who could accept you and all your flaws wholeheartedly—only to realise he had been here all along.
You were right, mother; he's the one.
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You won't believe how many times I went over this. I'm not entirely happy with it even though I've managed to put in everything I had in mind. Maybe I'm overthinking it, but I sincerely hope this was decent!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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Text
Employee of the Month // Eddie Munson
Prompt: enemies-to-lovers, “the employee of the month gets a free dinner to a fancy restaurant and you both fight to win it until it goes too far and oh shit, I think I love you but everything is falling apart.”
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wc: 24K (don't even ask)
tags: miscommunication, cursing, misunderstandings, idiots in love being idiots in love, female reader
Masterlist
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YOU groaned the second you walked into the store and heard the sounds of Nightmare on Elm Street playing on the television. “Isn’t it my turn to pick the movie?” You asked, walking past the counter and into the back. Precariously balancing your coffee and breakfast sandwich on the ledge of the lockers, you started pulling your jacket off.
“Well, if you arrived on time, your Grace, you’d have been able to,” Eddie’s grating voice filtered in through the swinging door.
Gritting your teeth, you closed your eyes and counted to ten. It’s illegal to murder. You’d go to jail. Your mother would cry if you went to trial. His body would be too heavy to drag into a ditch. The blood would stain your favorite shoes. Dustin would never forgive you. You hadn’t helped stitch his body back together only to turn around and kill him now.
“I am on time, shithead, you’re just always early,” you hissed.
“It’s been literal seconds and you two are already fighting?” Robin groaned from where she had her face buried into her elbow at the counter. You shrugged on your vest, put your backpack into the locker and slammed it shut.
“He started it,” you said defensively.
Eddie turned, hair flipping like he was some goddamn heroine in a movie, and shot you an incredulous look. “Did you not just come in, metaphorical guns blazing?”
“It’s my turn to pick the movie!” You insisted. And it was. You always picked the movie on Mondays. Always.
His brows furrowed, as if confused by your genuine anger. “Then pick the movie! The TV has an eject button or did you need me to help you learn how to use it?”
A small ember lit in your chest like it always did when you were around his infuriating presence. “Need I remind you that I’ve worked here longer than you have, Munson?” You huffed, grabbing an armful of the returns without looking and walking around the store. “Some of us graduated the first time around.”
Eddie snorted, the barb falling short. “You’ll need to find a new insult, Lightning.”
The condescending tone rung throughout the air. “Do not call me that,” you hissed, whipping your head around to glare at him.
He held up his hands and didn’t even try to hide his smirk. “I didn’t give you the nickname Superstar.”
You hated it when he called you that. It always sounded so patronizing. “Have I ever told you how much I hate you?” You grumbled, making sure to clip his shoulder with your own as you passed him.
“On a daily basis,” he retorted, whirling his arms in the air to keep his balance.
Steve sighed as he walked in and saw you both glaring at each other. “It’s been less than an hour, how are you both already arguing?”
“He started it,” you grumbled again, turning around and started to shelve the returns.
“He started it,” Eddie mimicked, yelping when Robin smacked him. You started in the far back left-hand corner and did what you always did when you were on shift with Eddie – you ignored him.
A half hour into shelving, and only midway through your coffee, you heard Steve groan loudly. Robin’s head popped out from the aisle behind you and she sighed. “Keith incoming,” she alerted you all, everyone rolling their eyes. “Oh shit, he’s coming with a suit.”
“What?” You asked, hurrying around the corner to join her. Catching sight of the senior supervisor, one of the execs in suits who show up once a few months – if that – you frowned. “You think we’re being shut down?”
“I hope not, this place is a shithole but it’s a paycheck,” Eddie grumbled, starting up the computer and pretending to look busy.
“Good morning, everyone,” Keith said, uncharacteristically polite as the entrance door swung open.
Hiding a laugh behind a cough, Robin and you nodded. Keith looked like a small child who’d gotten dressed in his parent’s working clothes.
“We’ll be in my office,” Keith said through his teeth, shooting you all a look as the suit disappeared through the door.
Robin turned to you instantly. “Oh shit, do you think we’re actually getting closed down?”
“Honestly, at this point, that job down at the grocery store is looking more appealing,” you sighed.
Steve, on the other hand, sputtered. “I don’t! This might be a shit job but I still need the money,” he huffed. “Driving you people around is expensive.”
Robin rolled her eyes and you shot him a look. “I drive the other half of your kids, so don’t even look at me.”
“They’re not my kids!”
“Well, they became mine through you so, what’s that say?” You asked, joining him behind the counter.
“That you and Robin wouldn’t leave well enough alone at the mall,” Steve huffed.
Robin whipped her head around. “If it wasn’t for us, you and Henderson wouldn’t have cracked the code!”
“I took a punch for you,” you said, elbowing him.
Steve shook his head but you saw the smile building. Much like Robin’s entrance into the party, you’d been hired at Scoops Ahoy when Starcourt opened as a part-time employee. Also, like Robin, you’d been hesitant to trust the self-proclaimed reformed Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. You’d known Robin, your next-door neighbor, for years. Despite the suspicion, you’d become pretty close friends. There was something about surviving a near apocalypse that bonded you all together. Especially considering his band of kids had welcomed you in with open arms.
“Demobats ate chunks of my skin off, you aren’t special,” said Eddie, tone – once again – grating on your skull.
Grinding your teeth, you ignored Steve’s pointed look and did what you did second best – shot him a withering glare and pretended he didn’t exist.
Unfortunately, your newfound friendships had led you back to Eddie Munson a few months ago. Despite fighting off those demented demobats with him in the Upside Down, and the way your heart had dropped to your feet when you fought to save his life, your distrust for him had only deepened.
“You both have to get over it eventually,” Steve grumbled under his breath. You reached out, quickly, and pinched his bicep. He yelped, brown eyes widening pitifully, and you glared at him.
Eddie and you hadn’t always had this…animosity. Steve had managed to break you down eventually, pulling the reason why from you after a summer party when you’d gotten plastered.
You had never thought of yourself as a spiteful person, but some things weren’t easy to get over. And what Eddie Munson had done to you was one of them. The worst part, was him acting like it had been your fault. That dumb, big-eyed, stupid son of a –
“Nice to see you all,” the suit said, coming out Keith’s office suddenly. You all mumbled incoherently, straightening when Keith glared, and watched as they walked out.
Not five minutes later, Keith sauntered back in with a smug look on his face. “Apparently, we’re the best performing Family Video in all of North Indiana.”
“Cool,” Eddie said, the nerd actually looked interested. You’d already known the store was doing better – considering Family Video was the only video store around for miles after the earthquake. The three of you had struggled enough to warrant bringing Munson into the mix.
“What does that mean?” Robin asked, always voicing the question on everyone’s mind.
Keith snorted. “That means, ducklings, we get to reap some perks.”
“Perks?” Steve asked, eyes brightening. Keith ignored him and turned to the rest of you.
“For starters, the suits are instating a best employee of the month,” he said, “excluding me of course because it wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”
You coughed, putting a hand up to your chest to really sell it, and attempted to hide your laughter within the sound.
“And what do we get if we win?” Eddie asked.
Would Family Video shell anything out? You wondered. They barely managed to replace your vest for free after you’d shredded it to shit from your adventures during spring break.
Keith leaned in, failing spectacularly at building tension, and smiled. You only just barely refrained from flinching back at the sight. “Get this, the first employee of the month gets a free dinner to Osteria da Fortuna. I get a free dinner obviously, because I’m the senior manager…”
His voice trailed off in your mind, your eyes widening and back straightened. Osteria? The fancy ass Italian restaurant downtown? Holy shit, you’d been dying to go there ever since Heather went with her boyfriend and told you about the desserts. She’d said it was the best tiramisu she’d ever tasted in her life.
By the time you’d snapped out of your daydream buffet, Keith had gone into his office again.
“Oh my God, I need that dinner. It’s the only thing that’ll help recover this month – shit, this year,” you said to Robin, her eyes softening. She’d been well aware of how shitty your life had been of late. “I’ve always wanted to go there!”
“Uh, everyone wants to go there, sweetheart,” Eddie said, his voice patronizing, “it’s the best restaurant for miles.”
You glared at him but he did what he did best, continue to annoy you.
“Besides, we’ve all had a shitty year.” He flipped his stupid hair again and you clenched your hands. Why did he always have to twist your words around? You hadn’t meant that yours had been worse than anyone else’s. You were well aware of how shit of a spring break ’86 had been for a lot of you.
“How no one has ever choked you is a mystery to me,” you said, matter of fact. A brief image of your hands around his neck made you smirk.
Eddie turned to glance at you over his shoulder. “I won’t say no if you’re offering Princess,” he winked.
Your heart slammed against your ribcage. Ignoring his jab, and the sudden rage in your chest, you walked into the breakroom to grab your cold breakfast sandwich. Heating it up in the tiny microwave you grabbed your bottle of water before stalking out again.
Keith leaned against the counter, reprimanding Steve about something, and his nose twitched. Eyes drawing towards you, they narrowed and you felt nervous. Shit. Keith had never cared when you ate and worked but you definitely didn’t want to piss him off as you started the race towards that dinner.
“Holy shit I haven’t eaten since last night I’m starving,” Keith said instead of admonishing you.
The idea popped in your head and before you could think twice, you offered Keith the wrapped breakfast sandwich. “Do you want it? I’m not that hungry,” you said, begging your growling stomach to stay quiet for a while.
You saw the appreciative glint in Keith’s eyes when he took his first bite – and by the scowl on Eddie’s face, he had too.
“Thanks Lightning, you’re a lifesaver,” he said, “you always were my favorite. I’ll be back later losers.”
With a flurry, Keith was out the door and the only noise for a few moments was Freddy Kreuger killing Glen. Then, your stomach roared to life.
“Not hungry?” Eddie echoed flatly.
Robin, however, stepped in before you could start another fight. “Well played you, well played,” she said, offering you a high five.
“If I give you my entire paycheck, will you take me with you when you win?” Steve asked, eyes pleading. It didn’t take a genius to know there was no way Keith was choosing Steve.
“As if,” Robin snorted, “she’s taking me.”
You watched them bicker amicably, laughing when Steve gaped at Robin after a low blow and barely registered Eddie next to you.
“I’m gonna win the dinner,” he said, nonchalantly.
Eyes darting up to his, ignoring his cologne wafting over to you, you glared at him. “Whatever, Munson.” Jesus, is that all you could come up with? What the fuck was in that cologne?
Eddie, however, just smiled. “Let the games begin.”
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Where the hell was everyone? You mused, walking into an open, but empty, store. Considering the schedule posted yesterday – Eddie, Robin, and you were set to open today.
Spinning your keys on your finger, you walked back into the locker room and tossed your stuff inside. Pulling your vest out, you shrugged it on and went to fill up your water. Once you were by the cooler you realized the back door was propped open.
What the?
You quietly stepped forward, eyes darting around looking for who was out there when you heard Keith’s voice.
“Dude, are you sure?” Keith asked, voice tinged with excitement.
Eddie’s soft voice filtered in through the crack. “Absolutely. I had extras and you know we’re cool right? I thought – why not ask Keith if he wants to take them off my hands.” Narrowing your eyes, you crossed your arms. You knew that tone – that was Eddie’s ‘I’m a bad liar but no one can tell,’ tone.
Keith stepped into view and you watched him take the Ziploc bag from Eddie’s hand. You bit your cheek to keep from cursing.
Joints.
Of course Eddie was going to start sucking up too. Because there’s no way he couldn’t let you have this – why would he? He’s been a pain in your ass from the start. What the hell could you give Keith that one upped free weed? Fuck, you needed to get creative.
There was no way in hell you were letting Munson win this fucking dinner. At this point, it was a matter of pride.
Scrambling to the front of the store, you started your morning to-do list with fervor. Robin stumbled in, looking still half asleep, she motioned to the back and you barely nodded in her direction.
A few minutes later, Eddie sauntered out. Grinding your teeth, you shifted your shoulders away from him so you didn’t have to look at him directly.
“It’s rude to eavesdrop you know,” Eddie said eventually, hopping onto the counter to your left.
You felt a flash of embarrassment at being caught but you carefully stomped it down. Without flinching, or hesitation, you lifted your eyes to his and quirked your brow. Leaning in slowly, you watched his eyes widen and his mouth part. You waited a moment to speak, eyes drawn to the way you were sure his brown ones had flashed down to your own mouth. Just a little closer, the tiny – stupidly intrusive - voice in your head echoed.
Blinking away the thought, you smirked. “It’s illegal to sell drugs, you know,” you said. Eddie gaped at you, clearly not expecting that, and huffed a moment too late.
Swiveling in your chair you turned to the computer, indicating that you were done speaking and you’d taken it as a win.
Not one to ever let you have the last word, “It wasn’t a sale, it was a gift,” he said.
You hummed, just as petty. “I’m sure Hopper would love to hear that explanation,” you said agreeably. Everyone knew that after El and Joyce, you were Hopper’s favorite.
Eddie grumbled and slinked off towards the returns. Internally pumping your fist, your win was quickly extinguished when Keith came out. “Alright I’m off until tomorrow. Don’t forget to tell Harrington to make sure the box is shut this time,” Keith said, with a weird grin on his face, and turned to Eddie. “Thanks again man, I really appreciate it.” He winked and you had to practically bite a crater into your bottom lip to keep from gagging.
“No worries,” Eddie said, smug expression radiating from the back. You could hear his stupid unsaid words. Your turn, Lightning.
You scowled. God, even imaginary him was unbearable.
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“What the fuck?” You muttered to yourself as you opened up the store. “Where the hell is everyone?”
This time, the entire store was dark. You went around quickly flipping the lights on and checked the time. I’m on time, you thought, checking the backrooms. Your morning shift was scheduled as it usually was, an hour after opening, but Eddie was nowhere to be found.
Shit – that never happened. Eddie was always on time.
For a brief second, you wondered if something had happened to him. Anxious fingers already reaching for the phone, you realized you didn’t know his number. Keith would have it, right? Were you ever allowed to look at employee records? Where the hell did Keith keep employee information anyway? Spiraling, you glanced around you one more time like you’d accidentally missed him in the store.
Calm down, you told yourself, Eddie was probably just lazing around like he usually did.
He’s never been late to work, your mind reminded you, especially not your Tuesday morning shifts. Tuesdays were Steve’s day off – Robin always joined you after school at 4PM and helped you close. The both of you would bicker the entire morning about his movie pick, argue about who was shelving returns faster, and usually eventually draw a tentative truce with the shitty coffee from the kitchen.
Despite your vow to never say it out loud – you knew Eddie took work seriously. He was a massive asshole but he was weirdly earnest about this stupid video store. Yanking the phone to your ear, you dialed a number you did know quickly.
“Hello?” A groggy voice answered.
Without preamble, and with a pitch high enough to rival Robin’s, your words stumbled out your mouth. “Steve, I need you to call Eddie. It’s ten thirty and I just came in and had to open the store and he’s always here on time Steve. Always. It’s the most annoying fucking thing on the planet how punctual he is. Something had to have happened on the road or like, I don’t know but-”
“-wait, wait, I just woke up, what are you talking about?”
Annoyance surged through you. “Eddie didn’t show up for his shift!” You hissed into the phone.
“Shit, really?” Steve asked a little shocked despite the sleep clinging to his voice.
“Yes, really! I had to open the store when I showed up a few minutes ago.”
Steve suddenly went quiet. “Fuuuuck,” he said, now sounding completely awake, “is today Tuesday?”
“Yes?”
“Fuck, I totally forgot,” Steve groaned, “Munson asked me to cover his shift.”
You chose to actively ignore the relief that bloomed in your chest. “Jesus Christ Steve,” you sighed, the worry draining out of you and making you feel lightheaded.
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry! I can be there in like five minutes-” a loud crashing sound made you wince and lean away from the receiver. “Ouch,” Steve groaned pathetically.
Biting back your laughter you shook your head. Steve Harrington was undoubtedly, not a morning person. “Hey, it’s fine. Tuesday mornings aren’t exactly rush hour over here. Take the morning off, I’ll be fine until the afternoon.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, Harrington, I’m sure. I owe you one anyway,” you rubbed a hand down your face, suddenly exhausted.
“Thanks dude, I’ll be down in a few hours, I’ll bring you coffee,” Steve said gratefully.
“From the good place!”
Steve laughed but promised to bring you the largest cup of coffee they had.
The morning, predictably, was slow. You spent the first half of it shelving returns and the second half of it assisting the odd customer that made their way by. Right as the latest man walked out the door, you caught sight of Keith leaning against his car. Groaning, you straightened and tried to look like you weren’t bored out of your mind.
Right as he started towards the store, you watched him chuck the butt of a joint towards the side. Keith had a dumb smile on his face and yesterday’s interaction slammed into you. Scowling, you smacked the enter button on the keyboard a bit too hard.
“Morning,” Keith drawled, the scent of weed wafting over to you. Grinding your molars, you could practically see the dinner slipping from your fingers.
“Hey,” you greeted, trying and failing to sound upbeat.
“Where’s Munson? I need to thank him again for – a favor he did me,” Keith ended lamely.
You opened your mouth to let him know what had happened but you hesitated. Shit. As of last year, the suits had established a new rule about swapping shifts. They all needed the manager’s approval. If Keith was here asking for Eddie, he hadn’t approved the swap. Steve was on thin ice considering the rule was put in place because of him.
An idea sprouted in the back of your mind and you chewed on your bottom lip. Was it too far? Eddie’s smug expression taunted you for a moment before you shook your head.
“I don’t know actually, he hasn’t called and wasn’t here when I came in,” you said, making an exaggerated notion of checking your watch. Gasping a little dramatically, you put a hand up to your chest. “Oh wow, I hadn’t even realized he’s two hours late! I’ve just been so busy here with customers,” you added, smiling dutifully and completely ignoring the empty store.
A small frown formed on Keith’s face but he shot you an appraising look before nodding. “Good job, thanks for keeping us in shipshape. You’ve always been reliable.”
Shipshape? You cringed at his wide, and weirdly sincere looking smile, before offering a weak one yourself. “Yes sir.”
Yes sir? Jesus you were laying it on thick.
Keith preened at the term and sauntered out the store without another word.
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You really should’ve known better than to assume Eddie wasn’t going to try and get back at you.
“Are you fucking kidding me Munson?” You screamed, kicking the front door open so hard that the frame rattled.
Eddie stood behind the counter, eyes glinting, and you could practically feel his skin underneath your hands as you smothered him with a plastic bag. Smug fucker.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you forget to see the change in schedule?” He asked with his stupid smirk on his face. Seeing red, you had a brief moment where you considered launching forward to actually kill him.
Picking a happy medium, you picked up a nearby box of Twizzlers, you launched it at his head and he ducked, shooting you an incredulous look. “I just got yelled at for thirty minutes by Keith,” you said, launching another box of candy. “I didn’t give you a fake schedule making you miss your shift, Eddie. You’re the one who swapped without telling anyone.”
“I told Steve! Who told you!” Eddie argued, eyes flashing.
Putting your hands on your hips you shot him a glare. “Yeah, which is still not allowed!”
“Oh,” Eddie said, his tone dripping with incredulity. He huffed and stomped over to you. “Get off your pedestal, Lightning, don’t act like you give a shit about store rules.”
Stepping closer, you felt your arms brush as you poked his shoulder. “I’m not saying I do, but what did you want me to do? Get you both in trouble?”
“Not lie would be a good start!” Eddie shouted, poking back at you. God, he was infuriating. And why the hell did he always smell so good? “You saw an opportunity and you went for it! I was just evening out the playing field.”
You laughed incredulously. The audacity of this idiot. “Right, and you giving him your weed was what? You being kind?”
Sputtering for a second, you crossed your arms to avoid the visceral instinct to smack him.
“Whatever, the point is we’re even now!”
Even? How the hell were you even? “Munson if you think we’re even, you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.”
At that, he raised his brow. His eyes darted over your face, a ghost of a smile twitching on his lips. “Yeah? Alright then Superstar, you want a war?”
“Bring it on,” you hissed, stomping off into the backroom.
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Flipping the sign on the door around to closed, you sighed in relief when the last customer drove off.
“I’m going to go change!” Robin called out, disappearing into the backroom. Steve already had his Westley costume on, black mask and all.
With a twirl and outstretched arms, he asked you what you thought. “You look great Steve,” you said with a smile. “Is Robin Buttercup?”
Steve snorted. “No, that really wouldn’t help the dating rumors. She’s wearing something with Vickie I think,” he said. “Nina is going in the red outfit.”
A soft knock to the front door had you both scowling and you walked up to the glass intending to wave away whoever it was. “Oh, it’s Nance!” You called out. She beamed at you as you opened the door and handed you a small bag. “Ugh, thank you. You’re a life saver!”
“Of course!” She grinned, her Grease costume looking great. “Jonathan’s in the car.”
You waved towards his car and smiled when he waved back. “What are you supposed to be?” Eddie’s voice behind you practically echoed. Steve started his explanation and you rolled your eyes when you saw that he was dressed like Tommy Lee. Predictable.
“So, how’s that going?” Nancy whispered, nodding towards Eddie.
“It’s fine,” you said, avoiding her eyes and shifting your weight to your other foot.
Nancy’s eyes narrowed at him, her loyalty coming off her in waves. “It’s okay, really,” you assured her, “we have an unspoken pact not to bring it up. It makes everything easier. Besides, we all basically went to war against Vecna together.”
“Yeah,” she said, hand going up to play with her hair, “have you…told anyone else about what happened?”
Glancing back at Eddie, your eyes darted down to the bag in your hands and you shook your head. “Only Steve.”
“Why-”
“It’s mortifying, Nance. He’s made how he feels about me abundantly clear,” you said, gritting your teeth and trying to ignore the old hurt that bloomed in your chest. “I’m going to go change before we’re late, okay?”
Slipping past everyone, you found Robin messing with her hair.
“Vickie isn’t going to know what hit her,” you said, smiling when her anxious hands stilled.
“Really? I don’t look stupid?”
“Definitely not,” you assured her. “Help me into this?”
Robin grinned as you quickly changed. The one piece was easy enough to slip into. “You’re going to blow Blake’s socks off,” she said, helping you tie the back of your costume as you pulled the wrist pieces into place.
You shivered a little as you pulled the pantyhose up higher, the cool air quickly causing you to break out into goosebumps. “Remind me why we chose this again?” You asked, already shivering a little. You’d all been invited to Halloween Party by a mutual friend of yours – costumes required. It’d been a stroke of good luck that you had all been scheduled for today’s closing shift. You were actually pretty sure that Keith was still locked in his office after his impromptu visit this afternoon.
“Because Jenna’s house is going to be really hot and you said you’d rather be cold than sweating,” she reminded you, “besides, Blake said he was dressing up as Batman, right?”
You nodded, wiggling into your red boots and wincing when the zipper caught your skin.
“Maybe you’ll win the costume contest,” Robin waggled her brows and you knew she was thinking of the bottle of tequila Jenna had promised to the winners.
Blake, one of your neighbors, had asked if you had any plans for Halloween last week. He was quiet, sweet, and had eyes so blue they almost looked violet. So, you’d taken the chance and invited him along to the party. Checking the time, you winced. “Shit, he’s going to be here soon,” you pulled at the bust one more time before turning around to face Robin. “How do I look?”
Robin’s eyes widened. “Whoa, holy boobies,” she said, hand going up to your chest. You swatted her hand away and rolled your eyes.
“I’m going to assume that’s a good thing,” you laughed when she grinned mischievously. “What?”
“Oh, this night will be fun,” she said, adjusting her cape motioning towards the front door. “Please, Princess Diana of Themyscira, you first.”
Grabbing your hoodie and bag, you made sure to double check that the back doors were locked and shut off the lights. You had barely stepped out when you heard a choking sound. Glancing up, you saw everyone’s eyes on you. Feeling a little self-conscious under the attention, you froze.
“I told you,” Robin said quietly and you barely resisted the urge to turn and swat at her. Your eyes, of their own traitorous volition, shifted to Eddie. His eyes were wide, a little awed, and were trailing down your body. You couldn’t help but smirk when you realized he was checking you out.
“Holy shit, you look great,” Steve said, drawing your attention away from Eddie’s expression, his eyes on the rope you’d attached to the belt, “I’m glad the belt worked out!”
“Thanks,” you said, remembering how Steve had helped you spray paint it gold, “I owe you one.”
Everyone talked amongst themselves, double checking that they had everything before leaving. Feeling someone’s eyes on you again, you glanced up to see Eddie standing a few feet from you. “You look good,” Eddie said, his voice soft, “the costume looks just like her.”
Fighting the pleased, slightly giddy, smile that wanted to break out into your face at his compliment, you shot him a small smile instead. “Thanks, Steve and Robin helped me pick it out,” you said, eyes darting down to his chest and only now realizing that he was shirtless underneath his vest. Suddenly, you felt your mouth dry up and you crossed your arms to keep from coughing. “Uh, your costume is pretty good too.”
“Thanks,” he said, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck, “Dustin and Steve helped me paint on his tattoos.”
You couldn’t help it, your eyes glanced down at the new tattoo across his stomach. “Did Tommy Lee have a demon tattooed onto his chest?” You asked, leaning forward to get a better look. “It looks really well drawn.”
“That’s uh,” you watched, transfixed, as his Adam’s apple bobbed the closer you got, “my real tattoo actually.” His eyes caught yours and the both of you froze, having gotten much closer than you realized. For a brief, insignificant moment, you couldn’t help but think how much nicer brown was than blue.
“What the hell is going on?” Keith’s voice silenced the rest of your group.
Stepping forward, you automatically went on damage control before Steve or Robin sputtered out something that got you all more in trouble. “We’re just leaving, Keith,” you assured him, “I double checked the back and made sure everything was locked and cleaned.”
You continued to prattle on about your closing checklist, including a few admin tasks that needed his sign off on that you’d left on his desk for next week. Glancing up at him, hoping you’d saved your asses from a reprimand, you realized Keith wasn’t listening. His eyes were south of your face and you barely resisted the urge to gag on sight.
You need this job. You all need this job. Don’t break his nose, don’t do it. If you punch him, you’ll all but hand Eddie that free dinner. You’d probably break your hand. Hopper might be called. Inhale. Exhale.
Fucking pervert, your mind screamed one last time before you buried the thought and your discomfort. Using his distraction to your advantage, you crossed your arms and motioned to the front lights. “Are you okay to close the front on your own?”
At Robin’s cough, he sputtered back to life. A splotchy, disgusting, blush rose on his face and you fought the need to snap. “Of course,” Keith answered eventually, his leering grin making you immediately uncomfortable. “You always think of everything, good job. I’ll take a look at those forms on Tuesday.”
Nodding, you took a few steps back before being stopped by Keith’s voice. “You look good, by the way.”
Spine stiffening, you forced your customer service smile onto your face before nodding. “Thanks, have a good night?” Your voice sounds so fake you knew your friends could feel it radiate off of you.
“Yeah, yeah,” Keith said, gawking at you one last time before disappearing back into his office.
You spun around, ready to smile triumphantly at your friends for avoiding the lecture, when you’re thrown off by Eddie’s sour expression. What the hell crawled up his ass?
“God, I feel like I need a shower,” Nancy said, gagging. Robin and Steve shot you grateful looks, knowing that you’d taken one for the team.
The sound of the front door opening again caught everyone’s attention, your eyes all turning towards a sheepish Jonathan. “Sorry, just wanted to let you know Blake just pulled up.”
You rushed forward, looking out into the parking lot and seeing the familiar red car parked by the front doors. Smiling, you ran a nervous hand down your hair before turning to your friends.
“Meet you guys there? I think Blake wants to stop by for some burgers first,” you said, not able to keep the excitement out of your voice.  
Robin rolled her eyes and pushed you towards the doors. “Yes, we’ll be fine. We’ll see you at the party, go say hi to your date, I’m sure his eyes will fall out his head when he sees you. Just like Keith’s did.” You shot her a glare and she laughed like the bully she was.
“Low blow Buckley, low blow.” You pulled the hoodie on and shot everyone one last wave before pushing the front door open.
Seeing you, Blake stumbled out his car. He was dressed as Batman, with a beaming smile, and you waved excitedly. You ran out to meet him but before you got too far, you heard Eddie grumble: “Who the hell is Blake?”
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“Good morning,” Eddie said as he walked in, the bell above the door slamming against your skull. God, why the hell had you listened to Steve about the tequila last night.
Robin groaned next to you, her body slumped over and her hands on her head. “Please stop screaming.”
You caught a flash of amusement on Eddie’s face before he disappeared through the back. “This is your fault,” you mumbled to Robin, who grunted.
“Keith said that we were scheduled to have a half-day! How was I supposed to know that his idea of opening the store late the day after Halloween was going to be only two hours later?” Robin said, her skin turning green, her eyes closing as she gulped audibly.
Hands coming out to smack against her, you pointed her in the direction of the bathroom. “Don’t, please, if I hear you then I’ll start,” you said. Robin sped off towards the employee bathroom and you dropped your head back into your arms.
“Someone clearly enjoyed the party,” Eddie’s voice echoed in the quiet front room. Wincing, you turned to him and glared. He wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t need to sound so smug about it.
Eddie raised his brows, as if reading your thoughts, and you huffed. “I don’t have the energy to deal with you today,” you informed him, willing the two Tylenol you’d taken earlier to start working.
“That’s a first,” Eddie muttered, puttering around the store. “So, you seemed to have fun with Blake.”
The tone of disdain in his voice made you blink at him. From your, admittedly patchy memory – Blake had managed to get along with everyone. He was like the human version of a puppy; he made friends with everyone wherever he went.
You opened your mouth to defend him when a loud voice greeted you both. Fighting the urge to grab at your head, you pulled energy from deep – deep – within your reserves and smiled up at Keith. He had a scarf wrapped around his neck and two different colored gloves on. “Good morning, Keith,” you greeted warily. He never came in on holidays or the day after, having a Keith sighting twice this week was never good.
“I’m just passing by,” he said, eyes trailing down your body. Confused, you looked down at yourself to make sure you hadn’t accidentally tossed your cookies and hadn’t noticed. Your usual t-shirt and jeans looked in place and you only glanced back up with you heard Eddie scoff. Maybe he was just being normal gross Keith?
Keith reappeared, keys and a folder in his hand, walking back out towards the door. He stopped, eyeing the two of you before his gaze landed on you. Straightening reflexively, your spine cracked as you did. “Your costume yesterday…was really good. It helped – uh, give the store some seasonal cheer.”
Seasonal cheer? You thought, confused. Wasn’t that usually Christmas? Eddie seemed to be thinking the same as you were because his brows dipped.
The poignant silence seemed to echo and Keith cleared his throat. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that you’re doing good work and…keep it up.” With another gross smile, he disappeared. Ugh, ew, you groaned.
“What the fuck?” You muttered, encounter already being pushed away by your pounding headache. Another scoff caught your attention and your eyes drew towards the source.
Eddie’s face was turned towards the horror section, his brows furrowed and expression pinched. “Do you have something you’d like to say out loud?” You snipped, not at all in the mood for his emotional whiplash.
“If I had something to say, sweetheart, I’d say it,” Eddie snapped back.
Surprised, you blinked. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Whatever,” you said, the pounding in your head getting worse.
The entire morning went along the same way, Robin dashing to the bathroom, and you barely holding it together up front with Eddie. While you were used to sparring with him, and would admittedly normally find it comforting, this was more than his usual annoyance. He seemed…genuinely angry at you and you couldn’t understand why. To be perfectly honest, the constant nausea from the moment you’d opened your eyes wasn’t really letting you care much about the why as long as he long as he left you alone for two fucking seconds.
Whatever it was, you were tired of it. “I’m taking my break,” you announced, needing space and maybe a coffee now that your stomach had started to settle.
“Uh, no you’re not,” Eddie said, stopping you from moving to the backroom for your wallet. “My break is scheduled before yours.”
How many times had you all taken a break whenever you wanted? Was he really going to be a stickler for this now? “Dude, are you serious right now?” You asked, about two seconds from whining and stomping your foot like a toddler. Holy shit, all you wanted was peace and quiet and a coffee the size of your head.
“Yeah,” Eddie grumbled, crossing his arms, “remember that time it was my break and I was about to pass out from my hangover but you just left the store-”
This again? You fumed. “I didn’t know you were hungover!” You defended yourself for the millionth time. “If you would’ve asked for help like a normal person instead of sulking, I would’ve gotten you something! Or I would’ve let you go first!”
Robin’s head popped out, eyes squinting, and a frown on her face. “Are you guys serious?”
“Ask him!” You threw your hand out towards him. “He’s the one being an asshole today, I don’t know what the hell I did!”
“Isn’t it obvious? Clearly, you’re taking the cheap shots with your fucking costume with Keith. If his eyes had gone any wider than they would’ve popped out his head,” Eddie fumed.
What? “Are you trying to say that it’s my fault Keith is a pervert?”
“No! I’m saying you’re using it to your advantage!” His words hit like a physical blow.
Robin stepped out, hands out to both of you, eyes sharp in his direction. “Dude, too far.”
Feeling like you’d been punched, and more than mildly wounded at the fact that Eddie clearly thought you were willing to lower yourself so that Keith of all people would notice, you blinked at him. In the silence, and to your utter dismay, Eddie seemed to notice that he’d actually hurt you. The apology in his eyes made you dart yours to the floor.
“I didn’t-”
“Don’t,” you said quickly. The last thing you wanted was an apology, especially from Munson. “I stopped expecting apologies from you a long time ago,” you said, not able to keep the hurt and barb out of your tone.
Eddie cleared his throat. “What the hell does that mean?”
Of course. “Right,” you snorted, hating that you’d peeled at your own scab. What the hell did you need to go through to learn your lesson with him? “I’ll be out back. You’re right, it’s your scheduled break and you can go first.”
“But-”
You made sure the door slammed as you stepped out and fought the pressure you felt behind your eyes.
Deep breaths, deep breaths, you reminded yourself. After grabbing a few tentative swings of your water, you splashed some onto your face and nodded at your reflection. You weren’t going to let Eddie get one over on you again.
When you came out a few minutes later, he was gone and Robin had an inquisitive stare.
“It’s nothing,” you said, not even believing yourself.
“Sure.”
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The next time you were on shift with Eddie left you wondering if an alien had inhabited his body and was parading around as him.
“It’s weird, right? That he’s being this polite?” You asked Steve as you both got ready to leave after the morning shift. After your pseudo-fight with Eddie two days ago, he’d been stiffly polite and you didn’t know what to do with that.
Steve rolled his eyes and shot you a knowing look. “What? Do you miss the sexual tension you had during your fights?”
Sputtering, you reached out to smack him and he dodged your hands. “I’m joking!”
“I’ll choke you,” you told him.
Steve winked at you and you huffed, hurrying out towards the back exit like you did after every Thursday afternoon. Instead of your usual sight, you froze when you saw Eddie standing by the dumpster with a cigarette.
“Uh,” you said, taken aback. You thought he’d left the second it hit three considering how quickly he darted out.
“Hey?” Eddie said, making it sound like a question.
With an awkward wave, you cleared your throat and said, “Hey.”
Checking your watch, you realized you still had a few minutes but now you didn’t know what to do. Eddie, clearly feeling the tension, broke the silence. “I’m just, smoking…as the car heats up,” he motioned to his van that he kept parked out back in the employee lot. He’d gotten special permission because the van didn’t fit in the regular parking lot.
“Right,” you said, rubbing your hands together for warmth. You pulled your beanie tighter against your head and chewed on your bottom lip.
“What, uh, why do you always come out here after your shifts Thursday?”
Not able to help your smile, you saw his eyes light up with interest. Before you could answer, you heard the telltale sign of a gate being opened. With your hand, you motioned for him to follow you as you rounded the corner to the building.
As always, there was a big, furry, dopey, smile waiting for you. From this angle, you could see his golden tail wagging happily at the sight of you.
“Thought he was gonna cry when he didn’t see you,” Maggie, the owner of the bookstore and the adorable golden retriever who was currently jumping in excitement at the sight of you.
Reaching over the fence, you scratched at his ears and chin. “Hey Fitz, who’s a good boy?” Fitz leaned his big head into your palms and you looked over your shoulder at Eddie. The sight of his wide smile smacked into your chest so intensely you felt off balance. Gripping the fence, you waved for him to come over.
Fitz, sensing another potential hand for head scratches, let his tongue loll out and tilted his head in a desperate attempt to look cuter. Your heart melted at the sight and Eddie’s soft murmurs didn’t help. After a few minutes, and a lot of attention, Fitz jumped off the fence and you waved to Maggie before pulling Eddie back towards Family Video.
“The shift change today always coincides with Mags letting Fitz out for a bathroom break. It’s nice, to see them before I leave,” you shrugged, “Fitz is always happy to see me.”
“Yeah, dogs are great,” he said, “especially big ones with dopey smiles.”
You thought of Maggie’s other dog, her shy little elderly chihuahua and you grinned. “The small ones are cute too.”
“It’s definitely a blanket understanding that dogs are all great,” Eddie said, smiling.
Wait a fucking second, were you getting along with Eddie Munson? As if realizing the same thing, Eddie’s hand came up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Uh, I’m gonna go-”
“-yeah, me too, uh, bye,” you said, not letting him finish and darting back inside.
Still a little dazed by the weird, almost normal, conversation – you didn’t realize Steve is practically drooling until Robin turned to shoot you a desperate look.
“What now?” You sighed, picking your bag up.
“One of Harrington’s crushes is here,” Robin said, “he flirted, she responded, they’re going out for coffee, and he’s acting like an idiot over, what number is she again?”
“Number three, Robin, three,” he hissed.
Scrunching your nose, you turned to slap Steve in the head. “What the hell is wrong with you, are you rating girls on a scale?”
“Ouch!” Steve hissed, turning to try and discretely check to see if the blonde had noticed. “I am not rating them on a scale, they’re numbered by how often they come in. Three is three times a week!”
Oh. “Woops, thought you were being a weirdo again.”
“I’ve had considerable growth, I’ll have you know,” he said.
Robin snorted and Steve shot her a wounded look. He then turned his big brown eyes to you. “So, remember how you usually catch a ride with me today because your dad uses your car?”
With a big, dramatic, sigh you pretended to think about it. “What you’re saying is, you’d ditch your friend for a girl? Your best friend who fought Russians and Vecna with you?”
Steve’s eyes turned down, a little sheepish, and he shook his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t do that to you. Let me go tell her-”
“Oh my God,” you shoved his shoulder, “you really do love me Harrington. I’m messing with you, go have fun. I’ll catch a ride with Robin when her mom comes by. I’m literally her neighbor.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, the light flush returning to his face.
You laughed and pointed to the door. “Go on Romeo, have fun.”
“I owe you one dude, you’re the best!” He said, straightening his jacket before running a nervous hand through his hair. Robin elbowed you and you grinned as he walked out but managed to slip on a pile of wet leaves. He recovered before she noticed but both of you couldn’t help but snort along with Robin.
She turned to you and leaned onto the counter. “You sure you want to wait? I’m on until closing.”
“Yeah,” you glanced at the low sun. While you loved the fall, you definitely weren’t keen on walking home in the dark – not after what you’d seen. Robin knew – shit, you all knew – and usually was your buddy in the system Dustin rigorously implemented. “I’ll grab a late lunch at the coffee shop and be back in an hour? Want anything?”
“Can you grab me a coffee?” She asked, eyes widening as she plead.
You grinned and squeezed her elbow before pushing the door open. “Be back soon!”
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The second cup of hot coffee had quickly gone lukewarm while you walked back towards Family Video two hours later. The sidewalk was littered with fallen leaves and you stepped towards a particularly crunchy pile of leaves when you heard it.
“Lightning?” The voice called out while your foot was mid-air.
“Jesus Christ,” you clutched your chest, pulling your headphones off. Eddie looked mildly amused, head leaning out his van.
“You can call me Eddie, no need to be formal,” he said. You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to chuck a fistful of leaves at him.
“Do you make it a habit of driving up to girls in the dark?” You asked, gazing at him. Eddie rolled his eyes and you realized. “Also, stop calling me that.”
“I’m not the one that gave you the nickname!” He said, like he always did.
You fought the urge to leave him there, not wanting to be the first to ruin the precarious peace you had. He wasn’t wrong – but it wasn’t about the nickname per say, it was the tone he used to say it. Kicking the leaves by your foot, the memory of your high school coach floated to the surface. He was kind, intense, but a huge believer of everyone on the girls’ soccer team. He’d been offered the chance to coach the boys’ varsity team but had stuck with the girls.
He'd dubbed you Lightning as a freshman, claiming that you’d win a scholarship to college with how fast you could run the field. The moniker stuck.
Eddie shifted, eyes going over your shoulder towards the store. “Why the hell are you still hanging around here? Our shift ended two hours ago. Keith isn’t around to kiss his ass,” he said, fiddling with a cigarette.
“Pot, kettle,” you said with a snort. You motioned to the store. “Robin is on until closing. Harrington had a date and I don’t have a ride. Why the hell are you still hanging around here?”
“Was at the arcade with the kids. What about you? Your legs broken?” He asked, his stupid tone rubbing you the wrong way.
You glared at him. “My house is like an hour walk away and it’s freezing outside. I’d rather not freeze to death walking in the dark by the forest.”
“Scared?” He teased, and you could see a faint smile building.
“Yeah,” you answered honestly, eyes falling to the visible scars on Eddie’s hands. You knew what hid in the shadows in Hawkins. You weren’t risking shit.
Clearly not expecting your honesty, he blinked at you. After an awkward moment, he nodded. “Alright, hop in.”
“With you?” You said eyeing his car.
Eddie rolled his eyes at you and you saw hurt flash across his face. “I know it’s not a sports car like you’re used to but-”
You held up a hand. “I drive my dad’s old car, Munson. Steve is the one with the BMW. I wasn’t doubting your car, I was doubting your driving skills.”
The defensiveness melted off to give way for comical indignation. “How dare you?” He asked.
Weighing your options, you sighed. You were pretty hungry and hadn’t wanted to spend so much money on food in the café when you knew you had perfectly good leftover pizza at home. Besides, you’d woken up early and desperately just wanted to shower and get out of your jeans. “Alright,” you said reluctantly and Eddie snorted.
“Don’t sound too excited there Lightning,” he said.
Ignoring him, you motioned to the store. “Just let me go tell Robin.” Without waiting for a response, you jogged up to the door and empty storefront. “Hey, Munson’s giving me a ride home. See you tomorrow?”
Ignoring her wiggling brows, you waved off her teasing jabs and jogged back to his van. Pulling yourself into the passenger seat, Eddie had closed his window and blasted the heating.
“Heating takes a minute to get going, you want a blanket? I’ve got some in the back,” he asked, cheeks a little flushed.
“I’m okay,” you assured him, tucking your hands under your thighs. “Thanks.”
As he nodded, pulling away from the curb, you were struck by the scent that enveloped you. It was a mix of smoke, laundry detergent, and something woodsy. Inhaling deeply, you hated how much you seemed to chase after it.
 Shit, you thought, the scent was going to sink into your clothes and it’d drive you insane every time you wore this jacket. You vehemently tried to ignore the reasoning behind why it’d drive you up a wall. Nope, not touching that one with a ten-foot pole. You buried that part of you back into the dirt where it belonged.
Clearly uncomfortable with your sudden silence, Eddie hurried to put on music. “Sorry for the mess,” Eddie said, oddly earnest. He tossed a few wrappers into the back and you reached out to stop his fumbling.
“Seriously, it’s fine, my car looks the same. Well, not exactly the same but I’ve been there. I’m not…” you trailed off as Eddie headed towards the direction you’d pointed.
Eddie glanced at you, hands on the wheel. “You’re not?”
“I’m not that type of person,” you muttered, your fingers burning where they’d touched his, and stared at the window, “I wouldn’t make fun of your car.”
“Oh.”
The radio station announced a change in song and by the first few chords you’d already started bobbing your head along to the music. Your brother had been playing this non-stop all month and it’d grown on you.
She's got a smile that it seems to me
Reminds me of childhood memories
Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky
You hummed along and watched the trees flash by. Eddie cleared his throat mid-chorus and you startled. “Uh, I just…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“For what?” You asked, shooting him a suspicious glare. “Is this the part where you murder me and toss my body in the woods? I helped clear your name Munson. I hauled your unconscious ass through a hole in the roof of your trailer.”
Eddie, surprising you both, laughed. You blinked, unaware you were even capable of making Eddie laugh and stared at him a little disbelieving.
“No, I’m not the smartest kid in this town but even I’m not dumb enough to think I can take you on,” he said.
You grinned, feeling a little pleased at the compliment and nodded. “I’m glad you recognize my superiority.”
Snorting, Eddie shook his head and sighed. “No, I meant, about the comment I made about – about the implication that you’d dress a certain way to gain Keith’s favor.”
Completely floored at the fact that Eddie fucking Munson was actually acknowledging that he’d crossed a line and apologizing for it, you nodded dumbly. “It’s okay,” you heard yourself say faintly.
“It’s not,” he insisted, eyes a little too sincere for you as he looked over at you while at the red light. “It was uncalled for and I was annoyed you’d…gotten one over on me. It was immature and shitty and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Besides, no one wants Keith’s attention that badly. No one.”
It was quiet for a few before you broke it with a small smile. “I didn’t know you were capable of emotional maturity.”
The tension snapped when Eddie registered what you’d said with a scoff. “Ha, ha,” he said dryly.
“Thanks,” you said quietly, looking at the familiar houses as you drove past, “I appreciate it.”
Eddie nodded, his grip on the steering wheel tight. You itched to ask him something, anything, but the awkward silence had descended again.
It became suffocating the longer you sat silently but you didn’t have it in you to say anything. You thought of the tentative truce you had for the past few days, and his apology, and something soft unfurled in your chest.
Whoa, oh, oh
Sweet child o' mine
Whoa, oh, oh, oh
Sweet love of mine
The music curled around you, eyes peeking at him discretely and you couldn’t help but smile at how he mouthed the words to the music. Suddenly, an old memory steamrolled you, bubbling up unbidden.
You were so excited, you couldn’t believe you’d found the dress you wanted at such a discount – and it was the last one – in your size! Anne said it was definitely a sign. You carefully applied your mascara and the last bit of hairspray into your hair.
“Do I look dumb? I don’t want him to think I’m trying too hard,” you said, nervous beyond belief.
Anne beamed at you; eyes soft. “You look beautiful and trust me, he won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you.”
The guitar solo broke you from the memory. Oh, you were here.
“The blue one at the end?” He asked. “Robin’s is the yellow one, right?”
“Yeah,” you said, voice coming out too shaky.
Eddie shot you a confused look but your eyes darted down to your bag at your feet.
While you’d never admit it out loud - your attraction to Eddie had never fully been stomped out but…as you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes, you couldn’t help but remember.
The memory of that night slithered back to the front of your mind and your nails dug into your palms. The feeling of your dress under your fingers, the smell of hairspray, and the memory of the butterflies in your stomach.
Eddie came to a stop and you jumped out like you were a bat out of hell. Inhaling deeply, you felt your clammy hands unclench as clean air filled your lungs.
“Thanks for the ride, I owe you one,” you said, not bothering to look back.
Eddie’s confused voice followed you as you slammed the door behind you. “Oh, uh, sure-”
You jogged towards your front door, quickly shutting it and dropping your bag onto the floor. Eddie Munson was not to be trusted, you reminded yourself, watching through the blinds as he idled in your driveway before pulling out. No matter how nice he smelled or how deceptively beautiful his stupid eyes were. Those had been the same things that had pulled you in before and he – he’d…
Wiping your face with the back of your wrist, you ripped the dress off your body and climbed into your bed. Crying until your chest hurt from heaving, you still couldn’t help but wonder how you’d read him so wrong.
That’s what you’d gotten for trusting Eddie Munson and no matter what truce or bond you had, you weren’t making that mistake twice.
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You had spent the entire night replaying the painful memories in your head like some sick twisted version of your own personal hell. So, when you woke up bleary eyed and cranky for your shift the next morning, you weren’t totally surprised.
“Good morning,” Eddie said, early as always, when you walked in.
Grumpy at having to work the morning shift on little to no sleep – thanks to him no less – you grumbled incoherently. A ghost of a smile flashed across Eddie’s face before he handed you a to-go cup.
Narrowing your eyes at it, you watched as his lips twitched before he wiggled the cup at you again. “It’s not poisoned, I swear. I got it from the coffee shop two streets down.”
“Oh,” you said, realizing you did know the design on the sleeve. You took it from him and sipped it cautiously. “That’s my favorite coffee shop, the baristas are so nice.”
“I know,” he said, ears turning red as he whirled around.
You blinked at him, confused. “Thanks,” you said, not sure if it was a statement or question.
He waved his hand in the air and you tossed your things into your locker. Coming back out, you hopped onto the counter and watched Eddie reshelve as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Suddenly, you realized he had put on The Breakfast Club – one of your favorites. Hadn’t he given you shit for how many times you liked to watch it?
Your eyes darted towards him to find him already watching you. “What?” He asked, startled at your sudden attention.
“Interesting movie choice,” you said, shrugging.
Eddie’s molten eyes seared you as his mouth curved into something resembling a sheepish smile. “It’s a good movie,” he said, chewing on his bottom lip.
The quiet of the store, the one only a Friday morning could conjure, echoed loudly. You both blinked at each other, unsure. You did know, however, that he was extending a metaphorical olive branch. And you didn’t want to be the asshole that rejected that. No matter how much you didn’t trust him.
“It is a good movie,” you agreed, taking a swig of your coffee and realizing that Eddie had gotten your coffee order correctly. How did he know how you liked your coffee?
Eddie’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Let me guess, you’re Molly Ringwald.”
You snorted so hard, you almost felt coffee come out your nose. Thumping your chest, you coughed until it cleared. “Dude, what the hell?”
Eddie looked bewildered.
“I wish I was Molly,” you said, looking up at the television again. “I’m definitely Brian.”
“What?”
“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you said, waving him off. “Mr. Bateman’s AP Chem lab is the reason I lost the full ride to Indie State. The only reason I kept some of it was because of the soccer scout. My mom didn’t care, she’s happy I was top of the class but, whatever. Mr. Bateman can fucking suck it.” Alright, maybe you were still a little bitter about it.
Eddie’s contemplative silence only made you more nervous.
“That’s why I’m in this shithole,” you added, picking at the coffee cup cover. “I can’t afford college yet; I’ve got money from the grants I did get – and my soccer scholarship but…I still needed some more. My mom said she’d get it somehow but, I barely see her enough as it is.”
“I didn’t know,” Eddie said quietly.
You looked at him over your shoulder and shrugged. “I know you didn’t. That’s why I like to remind you that your trailer park and my neighborhood are only a few blocks apart. I didn’t grow up like Steve. I don’t know what image you have of me but, just because I hung out with cheerleaders and jocks at the end of high school didn’t mean I had the money they did.”
Before Eddie could say anything else, you switched the subject. No matter how nice he was being, you’d learned the hard way that Eddie Munson had two sides and could flip between them with enough speed to give you whiplash.  
“Let me guess, you’re Bender,” you asked, grabbing the next stack of tapes. You needed to do something or you were going to end up biting off all your nails.
Eddie sighed. “I’d like to prove you wrong and tell you definitely not but, yeah – we’re just a cliché in the end huh?”
There was something about the way he’d said it, numb – like a bunch of people had told him he wouldn’t amount to anything until he’d started to believe it himself. A flash of Bender’s face while Vernon yelled at him crossed your mind. A surprising wave of protectiveness surged in you.
“No, Eddie,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. You let your eyes roam around his wild hair, curls jutting out like they had a mind of their own, his Metallica long sleeve t-shirt was faded and looked incredibly soft underneath his Family Video vest. Why couldn’t you just let the idea of him go? A pang of old hurt shot through you. Your eyes fell back to his and you felt your stomach summersault at the look in them. “You are anything but a cliché.”
The smile that grew on Eddie’s face reminded you of a gar den. It was warm and welcoming as it split his face nearly in two. After a moment, you turned back to the computer, hands clammy, and tried hard not to focus on the new comfortable silence that had settled.
You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at how much you’d revealed with your answer but also wondered if that had been the metaphorical white flag to finally wave between you two. Either way, later on in the day when Robin skidded into the store, she shrieked.
“Did you finally kill Munson? I knew you’d crack one day.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s too quiet in here! Where’d you hide the body? Actually, don’t tell me, I don’t want to accidentally sell you out.”
Eddie walked through the swinging doors and smiled when he saw Robin. “Oh, hey, I didn’t hear the bell. How was your midterm?”
Ignoring his question, Robin looked between you two nervously. “I don’t know what’s worse, the bickering or the truce.”
Eddie leaned onto the counter and you used every ounce of willpower you had not to dart your eyes towards the exposed sliver of skin at his waist. “What’s she talking about?” Eddie asked, eyes sparkling with humor.
You eyed him, the small voice that usually warned you away from him mysteriously quiet. After a beat too long, you offered up your own white flag. “I don’t know,” you said, playing along, “you know how she is.” Surprise and relief flashed across Eddie’s face before melting into a small smirk.
People could change, you’d seen it in Steve. And while it didn’t change your opinion about the past, and what’d he’d done – you didn’t need to fight him for the rest of your lives.
Robin’s eyes almost bugged out her head. “No, no, no you can’t gang up on me! Where’s Harrington when you need him?”
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Wincing as the group on stage screamed their goodbyes, you sipped your beer and wondered if you’d taken the metaphorical flag waving a bit too far.
It was a combination of Eddie’s complete one-eighty change in personality, the hopeful look in his stupid Bambi eyes, and Steve answering for you, that landed you in a crowded bar downtown waiting for Corroded Coffin to take the stage as the final act. According to Dustin, their pseudo-manager, it was a huge night for them. They were the main band, and had managed to get a full house.
“Hey everyone,” a voice echoed and your eyes shot up to the stage.
Dustin shushed everyone, Nancy and Robin sharing an eye roll – and you muffling your laugh – as he stared up at the band.
“We want to thank everyone for coming out,” Eddie said, looking completely at home up on the stage. You couldn’t help but be a little…well, shocked. He’d transformed completely as he strummed his guitar, his head banging as he made the stage his home.
It was clear now, compared to the other bands, why Corroded Coffin was the main attraction. They played well off each other, the other three members balancing out Eddie’s energy and ramping it up when they needed to.
“Now, I know you guys are here for the classics but we did get one request and I promised him I’d play it before the end of the night. So, Harrington, this one’s for you,” Eddie said with a wink.
Your group turned to gaze at Steve who grinned. At the sight of all the stares, Steve grinned sheepishly. “We made a bet last week at the store. If he lost, he had to play a pop cover,” Steve said, grinning victoriously. Despite the shift, the crowd still ate it up.
Steve pulled your hand up to his and twirled you around. Shrieking at the sudden, unexpected, movement, you laughed when Steve herded you onto the dance floor. His head bopped, one arm around yours and you jumped along to the tempo. Nancy and Jonathan joined you both, in their own world, and you opened your arms to beckon Robin over.
Soon, the set came to an end and Steve had led the group back over to the bar. A little out of breath, and sweaty, you ordered another beer and pressed the cool bottle to your cheek. “Damn Harrington, you’ve got moves,” you said, impressed.
Steve winked at you and for a brief moment you could see what girls saw in him. Robin, however, just rolled her eyes and sipped her drink. “Oh, look, it’s Eddie!” She waved, greeting him with a hug. Your little group cheered for them, offering up their congratulations. Feeling a little awkward, the peace between you two still too new, you focused on getting your pulse back to normal.
“So, I saw you dancing,” Eddie said, sliding into the bar stool next to yours.
Biting back a smile, you shrugged. “You weren’t atrocious,” you said nonchalantly.
Eddie, recognizing the compliment hidden underneath, threw his head back and laughed. “High praise from you, Lightning.” The echoes of his laughter flittered around you.
“Don’t say I never said anything nice,” you said, teasing back. The electricity between you both yawned awake and you chewed on your cheek. This new development had you avoiding Eddie recently, unsure on how to handle it. Glancing at him, you saw his stare already on you. Not wanting to flinch away like you normally did, you sipped your drink, eyes still on his. You licked at your bottom lip, catching a stray drop of beer and your stomach summersaulted when you saw his eyes follow the movement.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said quietly, almost inaudible under the music blaring from the speakers.
Not knowing what to say, you shrugged. “Technically, you didn’t invite me,” you said, “Steve just pulled me along.”
Eddie’s head reared back, his eyes flying back to yours and he only dropped his shoulders when he realized you were joking. “I’ll invite you personally next time,” he said, knocking his beer bottle with yours.
More than a little surprised, you shot him a look and he just ducked his head to smile. Your heart skipped and you wanted to reach down and beat it back into submission. This wasn’t the time to forget.
“Although, I can do you one better,” he swirled in his stool, his knees bumping into yours and leaving them there. His warmth seeped into your skin, like he was branding you, and you quirked your brow in a last-ditch effort to seem unaffected.
“Do you want to go to an afterparty? Jared, one of the guitarists, lives out by the lake and has a bonfire after. It’s got shitty alcohol but good people,” Eddie added when he saw you scrunch your nose.
Dropping your hand to his, surprising you both, you winced. “Lover’s Lake?” You asked quietly.
Understanding bled into his expression and he shook his head. “Opposite side of town, I promise,” he said, his finger tracing a small circle onto your skin. “I…can’t really go by that lake either now.”
“Are the others going?” You asked, glancing around for a familiar face.
Eddie smiled. “Why? Scared to be alone with the Satan worshippers?”
Not able to help yourself, you snorted. “Eddie, I could sucker punch you into next week without blinking,” you said.
With a dramatic gasp, hands going to his chest, you watched amusedly as Eddie sputtered. “How dare you? I fought demobats for you.”
“I’m still the better fighter,” you said, laughing when he feigned hurt.
“I can’t believe you’d say that completely true fact right to my face,” he said, huffing.
Before you could tease back, a scruffy haired guy popped up by Eddie’s shoulder. “Eddie, Mark wants to talk to you. Said something about payment and next week’s schedule.”
Eddie looked almost remorseful but he tapped your arm. “I’ll be right back and then we can all drive out to Jared’s.”
“You’re coming?” The newcomer asked, surprise tinting his expression.
Feeling a little defensive, you felt your shoulders rise and were suddenly almost thrown from your seat when Eddie stood up. His back was to you but you managed to catch his death glare towards his friend. You placed an stumbling, desperate, hand on his hip for balance and Eddie jumped. His eyes dropped to yours and they softened. “Sorry. Lightning, Gareth - Gareth, Lightning. I’ll be right back.”
You nodded, lifting your bottle in a semi-salute and Eddie smiled before disappearing into the crowd. Nancy, a little disheveled and out of breath, leaned against you and sighed. “It’s so loud!” She said, a little too loudly for how close to your ear she was. She swayed a little and you knew by the flush in her cheeks that she was tipsy.
“Come on Wheeler, park it,” you said, bumping her into your stool. She beamed at you, pushing hair away from her face.
“Hey, Gareth, right? You played really well.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Completely forgetting Eddie’s bandmate, you glanced at him to find him watching you. Feeling awkward again, you steadied Nancy as she chatted with the bartender. “Um, I know who you are by the way,” you said, shifting your weight. “We were in English and Biology together during junior year.”
Gareth smiled, making him look younger, and you watched him as he became a little flustered. “Yeah, you always helped me out with the pop quizzes.”
Snorting, you glanced at him. “By helping out do you mean letting you and Jeff cheat off me?”
Laughing, he nodded and you grinned. “Not a lot of people would’ve helped,” he said, “but you were always nice to us. You never let Tommy pick on us either.”
“He wasn’t as much of a bully without his leaders,” you said with a scoff, remembering Steve’s old friends. “Besides, he knew from experience not to fuck with me.”
Clearly that had been the only thing Gareth needed to break the ice because conversation flowed easily after. At one-point, mid-sentence, you glanced over at the dance floor and caught sight of Eddie.
Voice drying up, you watched as he wrapped his arms around a girl a good head shorter than him. She leaned back, eyes sparkling in clear adoration, and you felt your stomach drop to your feet. She had long, beautiful, black hair that you knew was something she was born with – hair that nice had to be genetics. Her entire outfit screamed effortless and grunge in a way you’d never in a million years be able to replicate. She looked like the girlfriend of the guitarist of a band, like someone who fit in, you thought, annoyed.
Whoa, where had that come from? You straightened, realizing you’d completely ignored Gareth. His eyes shot you a knowing look. “That’s Mark’s daughter – the owner of the bar. She’s cool-”
“-I’m sure she is. Um, I’ll be right back,” you said, rushing towards the exit. The cold November air stung as you took a shuddering breath. You watched it evaporate into the air and you frowned.
What the fuck was in the air in that place? Had you gotten jealous? Over Eddie? You shook your head, leaning against the brick wall and placing a hand to your forehead. Get it together, you scolded yourself, get it the fuck together.
“Hey.”
Nearly jumping out of your skin, you whirled around and came face to face with Eddie. He was rubbing his hands together, clearly cold. “You’re shivering,” he said as your mind whirled with an excuse to just drive home.
Before you could tell him you were fine – you hadn’t worn a thick enough coat since you knew you’d be driving to the bar – Eddie had unzipped his hoodie and wrapped it around your shoulders. Clearly, your body was certifiably insane because your arms tucked themselves into the sleeves and latched onto the warmth. Hello? You mind screamed. This is the opposite of getting it together!
“You’ll start to shiver now,” you said, brows furrowing at the sight of his thin long sleeve. Eddie just waved off your concern and tucked his hands into his jean’s pockets. His eyes were wide as you burrowed into his hoodie, his brown ones stuck on your torso. Did he want it back?
“I’ll be fine, I’ve got my leather jacket inside,” he said, voice sounding a little strangled, and his eyes darted over your head, “I just came out to see what the hell had you thinking you could pull an Irish goodbye.”
You hadn’t been aware he was watching you. Mind coming up blank, you looked down towards your hands and immediately regretted it. The motion brought your nose closer to the collar and a waft of Eddie’s stupid smell just wrapped around you. “Uh, I was just getting a bit too hot,” you lied, poorly.
“Right,” Eddie said, “so this would be the right moment to tell you Jared’s party is mostly outside?”
Well, fuck.
“Hey Munson!” A group of guys from one of the earlier bands waves towards the road. “We’re gonna go help Jared set up. You coming?”
“Yeah!” He called out waving them off and turning back to you. “I let Harrington know he could leave his car behind in the parking lot but he said he’s giving a Robin a ride. I don’t mind giving anyone a ride. Byers said he’d take the kids home with Wheeler. She’s a little-”
“-drunk already?” You finished for him with a smile. “Nancy is a certified badass in every way but her alcohol tolerance.” Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tried your best to ignore the waft of cologne that threatened to pull you under.
Eddie laughed, stupidly pretty eyes trailing down to your torso again. His cheeks flushed and you frowned. “So, you want shotgun?”
And like the complete, and absolute mess that you were, you felt yourself nod. “Sure, can’t let Steve have all the fun.”
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There was absolutely no way in hell you were telling anyone how absolutely fucking freezing you were. How the fuck did everyone look warm enough? On the ride over, Eddie had the heating blasting and it still didn’t feel like enough.
As Eddie pulled the van into a spot by a house in the woods, everyone in the back piled out and you groaned internally at the gust of air that came through the open side doors.
“Here,” Eddie said, rummaging around the back and pulling out a purple blanket. He tucked it under his arm and motioned to the fire that had already been started. “It’s much warmer in front of the fire, I promise.”
Not needing to be told twice, you sped over to the empty logs by the fire and plopped down. Curling your arms around you, you let the warmth of the flames sink into your skin. “Jesus that’s good,” you said, extending a hand out towards the fire.
Something soft dropped into your lap and Eddie took a seat on the wooden log next to you. “Here, I’ve got a few blankets in the van if you want another.”
Your fingers were curled into the soft material and you blinked up at him. Eddie Munson had warm fluffy blankets in his van?
“I remember that blanket,” Gareth said as he passed you both on his way towards the food. He wiggled his brows at Eddie who looked like he was turning purple.
Car blankets…ew! “Oh my God, is this your sex blanket? Eddie, did you just offer me your hook up blanket?” You asked, staring at the purple cloth suspiciously.
Clearly not expecting that answer, he choked, eyes wildly turning to you. “No, Jesus, Lightning – no it’s not my fucking sex blanket,” he hissed, voice lowering towards the end.
You took in his mildly offended expression and snorted. “Oh, stop looking like I pissed in your cheerios, you’re telling me you’ve never hooked up with a girl in your van? With all that space?”
Eddie’s cheeks turned suspiciously pink and you couldn’t help but grin. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone on that blanket!” He insisted.
Giving it a tentative sniff, the same Eddie scent drifted out and you deemed it suitable. Wrapping the fleece around your shoulders, you tucked yourself into it and almost cried at how warm you felt. Beaming up at Eddie, you leaned your shoulder onto his. “Thank you, Munson.” Jesus, clearly the cold was interfering with your common sense.
Despite your mind screaming into the void, your heart skipped when he smiled softly. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, eyes on the fire.
“Someone’s a little cold,” a voice said, an enormous man sitting onto the log next to you. For a moment, you swore the ground shook.
“Jared,” Eddie greeted, fist bumping against his. “This is-”
“-I know who you are,” Jared said with a grin and you raised your brow. He laughed, eyes scrunching when he did. “You went to school with my little sister. She was on the junior varsity team.”
A flash of Mariah’s face came to the forefront of your mind and you grinned. Mariah had been a freshman right as you’d graduated. Her determined expression, box braids tied neatly back, and wide smile came to mind.
“No shit, I didn’t know she had a brother,” you straightened, smiling up at the giant. “She’s like five feet worth of anger and determination on the field. I helped coach the JV team my last year.”
Jared smiled, his teeth incredibly straight and white. “Yeah, she idolizes you man. Said she wanted to be just like Lightning,” he said, “she told me how you worked with her after practice to get her drills better. Thanks.”
You waved away his gratitude. “No thanks needed; she’s got a great career ahead of her. She’d get scouted in a second – last I heard she wanted to go to Brown?”
“Yeah,” Jared said, clearly proud, “she got the brains.”
“I’m assuming that means you got the brawn?” You asked. Eddie sputtered, trying and failing to hide his laugh.
Jared, amused, shook his head. “Everyone’s gotta mention it,” he said, “if you ask me what the weather is like up here, I’ll kick you out.”
“No, you won’t,” you said, burrowing back into your blanket and smirking up at the man who clearly adored his sister, “or I’ll tell Mariah and she’ll never let you live it down.”
Jared’s laughter echoed around the trees and illuminated the forest. It was the kind of laughter that you couldn’t help but join in on. “Munson, I like this one. How’d you manage to bag Lightning of all people?”
You opened your mouth to tease Eddie but instead he turned a bright red and said adamantly: “We’re not dating, we work together.”
It took everything in your soul to not let your face show how stung you were at how quickly and fervently he said that. Jesus. Alright, he didn’t want to date you – that was crystal clear. “So, you’re single?” Jared said, wiggling his brows. Having known him for exactly five minutes, you could already tell he was joking.
“Keep playing your cards right and maybe I won’t be,” you teased back.
Jared laughed, utterly delighted, and Eddie huffed. “You wouldn’t want Batman coming after you,” he said.
Completely confused, you turned to him and lowered the blanket. “What?”
“Blake?” Eddie said, tone equally confused.
“Oh,” you said, shaking your head, “he’s just a friend. He’s one of my neighbors – he just broke up with his girlfriend and didn’t want to go to the party alone. He knew I…well, I needed the night out so we decided to go together. Then we won the contest and the tequila…”
Eddie’s face went blank and Jared chuckled. “Sounded like a hell of a party.”
“It was, so was the hangover the next morning,” you said, shivering when a strong gust of wind hit you.
“Well, the weather down there looks cold if your teeth chattering is anything to go by,” Jared said, eyes mischievous. “Hey Eddie, why don’t you give her some of my special blend? It always warms people right up.”
Eddie snorted and you turned to glance at both of them. “Is that euphemism for something? Because I may not be as tall as you but I’m scrappy and I’ll kick both your asses.”
Jared’s laugh boomed again and a few people turned to glance at your curiously. “You’re funny, I really like her Munson,” he said, tone suggestive.
Not wanting to go down that particular road – something told you that an older brother like Jared would be ruthless in teasing – you hopped to your feet. “Come on Munson, let’s get this infamous drink.”
You followed Eddie’s lead towards the tables set up by the lone house near the lake. Glancing around, you watched as a few people smiled at you and greeted each other warmly. You had no idea there was such a big metalhead scene in Indiana.
“They like you,” he said, handing you a red cup filled with what smelled like paint stripper.
“A lot of people finding my presence to be scintillating, not everyone despises me the way you do,” you said, quirking a brow at him, you took a sip and almost spat it out into the dirt. What the- “Holy shit what the fuck is that?”
Eddie laughed, eyes turning towards Jared. “He makes this gross moonshine concoction that he swears is great.”
Not able to scrub the taste from your mouth, you shouted: “Jared this tastes like acetone! If I die from ingesting this shit, I’m haunting your ass!”
Jared and his bandmates laughed, waving away your grievances and you rolled your eyes. “A beer, please, I’ll even take some shitty vodka.”
Snorting, Eddie snapped the cap off your bottle with his keys and handed it to you. It was cold but you instantly swashed it around your mouth, trying to get your nerve endings to return.
“I don’t despise you,” Eddie said after he’d opened himself a beer.
“What?” You asked, practically drooling at your attempts to wash down the moonshine. God, your mouth was on fire. Eddie smiled but handed you the bag of chips he’d swiped from the table. Digging into them with gusto, you looked up at him curiously.
“I said, I don’t despise you,” he echoed quietly, his eyes darting down to his beer bottle. You froze, mid-chew and followed his eyesight. Eddie’s thumb was picking at the label relentlessly, the sticky paper peeling as his nail grated at it.
Hating the light awkwardness that had settled in, you shrugged, bumping his shoulders with your own. “High praise coming from Eddie Munson.” Your eyes flittered around the woods and you stood, nodding towards Jared. “Come on, I need to go give him more shit for that drink. I don’t know if I’ll ever taste anything normally again.”
You took off, Eddie’s footsteps and laughter following close behind.
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“Did you know that the Harvest Festival opened last week?” You asked Eddie, words slurring.
Eddie nodded, the movement distracting you. “Yeah, Lightning, you’ve told me like six times tonight. I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Have I?” You hiccupped, chest shuddering against your permission. “I really want to go.”
“Oh my god, me too!” Robin said, leaning her entire body weight onto your side. Falling over, you stumbled into someone’s lap.
“Liam!” You said, greeting Eddie’s newest bandmate excitedly. Oh my God, you’d found Liam!
“You did find me, I was sitting right below you though,” Liam said, amused, “you okay?”
Not moving an inch, you stretched towards the fire and nodded. “Yeah, totally!” You realized he’d been mid conversation with a blonde girl and you thrusted your hand out. “Hi!”
Her green eyes crinkled with amusement and she shook your hand. “Nice to meet you again,” she said.
“You’re so pretty,” you told her.
Her cheeks went pink and she ducked her head, her leather jacket rustling with the movement. Robin, who’d ended up sprawled next to you nodded enthusiastically. “So pretty,” she agreed. “I love your fishnet tights.”
“It works really well with the outfit,” you added. “I would date the shit out of you.”
“Me too!” Robin laughed, falling half into you.
The girl, looking pleased and amused, laughed. “Munson, I like your friends. They’re good for my ego,” she said, helping you sit back up onto the log and squeezing your shoulder.
Eddie popped out of nowhere and you squealed. “Eddie!” You wrapped your arms around his and tugged him down towards you. God, he was so warm. “Where’d you come from? Have you met Liam and his pretty girlfriend?”
“Yeah,” he said, laughing lightly, “I have met Liam and Alianna.”
“I missed you,” you said softly, leaning your head onto his shoulder and closing your eyes. The fire had begun to spin and you felt the faintest nausea roll through your belly.
A few soft fingers danced across your cheek and pushed the hair out of your face. Eddie’s big brown eyes swam into your vision, steady and a little amused, and you grinned. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said, fingers still at your cheek, “I missed you too.”
“That’s an understatement,” Liam laughed, his eyes on the two of you, and you watched Eddie lean down to punch his shoulder.
“Shut the fuck up, she’s drunk,” Eddie hissed.
You weren’t drunk, you thought, you’d barely had a cup of that acetone. “Good,” you said when his eyes were back on yours, “I’m a very miss-able person.”
“You are,” he nodded, eyes darting away from yours and glaring towards the man at your feet. “I was gone for about five minutes and it’s because I needed to grab you two these.” With a flourish, a pair of water bottles appeared from thin air.
Stumbling up to your feet, you felt your eyes widen as you gasped. “Oh my God, you’re magic.”
“Something like that,” Eddie said, helping Robin open hers.
“Where’s Steve?” You gulped down your water and managed to spill a bit onto your chin.
“Right here. Jesus, are you two drunker than when I left fifteen minutes ago? I found a few bags in case they puke on the way home.”
“I drank Liam’s beer,” Robin declared and you cheered, liking the beaming smile she sent your way. “Holy shit. Lightning look!”
Whirling around to follow her finger, Eddie’s hand came up quickly to steady you. Not able to find what Robin was clearing gasping at, you blinked at her. “What?”
“A bunny!”
You clasped your hands in front of your chest and shrieked. “A bunny!?” You loved bunnies! And dogs. And clouds. And snow!
Steve snorted. “I highly doubt-”
“Race you!” You screamed, shaking Eddie’s hand off and darting out into the trees.
Robin’s laughter and heavy footsteps followed you but she’d quickly veered to the left. You hesitated, hearing Eddie and Steve shout out your names.
“Fuck, they’re both fast. I’m closer to Rob – just, go – she can run across the field in a minute, hurry!” Steve’s voice echoed.
You gasped. They wanted to find the bunny first. Grinning, you felt the strength in your legs as you pumped your arms and sped off through the trees. You could see the field in your mind, feel the ball at your feet and the wall of defense you needed to get through before you got the goal.
With a well-practiced kick, a zing of pain shot through your leg when the rock cracked in two against the tree a few feet ahead.
“Holy shit,” Eddie said, hand clamping down painfully tight on your wrist. “You – you run really fast.”
“I’m a center forward,” you said, still jumping up and down a little at your successful goal, “did you see that? I scored!”
Eddie blinked at you. “What the hell are you talking about? Jesus you should’ve stopped after the fourth cup.”
You pouted, crossing your arms. “Eddie, didn’t you see me score?”
“Of course I did, who’d you score against? The bunny?”
Bunny? “What bunny?” You asked, tilting your head and stumbling when the motion made the world spin.
Eddie’s arm pulled you towards him so your back was to his chest and his arms cradled you.
“It’s dizzy in the woods,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “You have a bunny?”
At your wide-eyed look, Eddie tossed his head back and laughed. “You’re kind of hilarious, you know that?”
Obviously. “Duh.”
“Maybe we should walk back and tell everyone how you scored,” he said gently, tugging you forward.
That was a great idea! You thought, letting Eddie tug you back towards the flickering warm light. “Can you help me take off this jacket?” You asked him, feeling warm.
“Let’s keep it on,” Eddie said quickly, “it’s cold and you could get sick.”
“But I’m hot,” you whined, stomping your foot.
Eddie groaned. “Please? For me?” Ugh, those stupid eyes.
Conceding, you resumed walking and remembered. “Hey, the quarter is almost over,” you said, “the best employee is going to be picked soon.”
“I promise to bring you back some leftovers,” Eddie teased and you grinned.
Thinking on the cake you’d been dreaming of, you nodded. “If you win, bring me some cake okay? Pinky promise?”
Surrounded by Eddie’s laughter and his fingers hooked in yours, the lights from the party still swam in your vision, the ground felt more solid beneath you.
Suddenly, a memory shoved your smile aside and you frowned.
“It was all a joke.”
Eddie wasn’t to be trusted. He’d left you. He broke promises. He wasn’t going to bring you cake.
Upset, you stopped walking and looked to him. “Why?” Because that’s all you’d ever really wanted to know. Why had he done that to you?
“Why what? Why am I half carrying you back to the clearing? Because knowing you, you’d get lost trying to drunkenly run after a bunny in the woods,” he said with a laugh.
“No,” you grunted, pulling your arm out of his. The bubbly feeling in your chest was replaced with a soft, familiar, hurt. It radiated outwards, your skin crawled with it. “Why’d you do that to me? You really…hurt my feelings.”
“What are you talking about?” He asked, ducking his head to catch your gaze.
The way he softened his tone, his eyes warm and inviting, lured you in like a moth to a flame. “I hate that I still like the sound of your voice,” you said, annoyed at yourself and scrunching your nose. “You’re so pretty and it’s not fair. In math class I’d stare at you the whole period. Did you know that you stick your tongue out when you concentrate really hard?”
“What?”
“I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to kiss you.”
Looking stunned, Eddie blinked. “Am I?” He asked, looking confused and pleased. “Do you? Exactly how much have you had to drink?”
Ready to tell him all the ways you thought he was beautiful; you were interrupted by Steve’s voice. “What the hell is wrong with you guys?” He panted, out of breath. “I got Robin shoved back into my car. I think it’s best if we just crash at my place, it’s the closest. A few others need rides though.”
“I can drive her to yours,” Eddie offered quickly, hand coming up to your elbow.
Steve shrugged. “I can take her or you can just stay over too.”
Eddie frowned, looking unhappy. You poked at his cheek and giggled when he smiled down at you. “Are you…sure?”
“Dude, I helped keep your skin together while you bled out in her lap. Crashing on my sofa at almost five? in the morning,” Steve groaned and you giggled, “isn’t crossing any lines.”
Eddie turned back to you. “Come on Superstar, we’re going home,” he urged you forward. “We have a lot to talk about tomorrow morning.”
“Let’s take some more of the m’shine,” you whispered to Eddie, stumbling over roots. “That stuff is good.”
His laughter echoed in your bones and you smiled up at him. “I’ll make sure to tell Jared you said that.”
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Fuck, you groaned, sharp pain digging into your skull and slapping your brain like the little bitch it was. “There go my corneas,” you hissed, clutching at your head.
Where the fuck were you? You glanced around and caught sight of a snoring Robin on the bed next to you. Steve’s house.
Flashes of last night came back to you and you groaned. What in the hell had possessed you to drink a whole ass cup of moonshine? You were going to kill Steve. Just come out with us, what’s the worst that could happen?
It took you about five minutes to talk yourself up to standing. You felt like you had the equilibrium of a baby deer as you darted into the bathroom across the hall. Locking the door and hurrying over to the toilet you realized you’d managed to change into the pajama set you kept in Steve’s guest room. Smiling, a fuzzy memory bubbled up and you remembered laughing so hard you cried when Robin had gotten her head stuck in her sweatpants while trying to change.
A loud whirring sound startled you to attention. As quickly as you could, you splashed your face and brushed your teeth to get the taste of last night’s events out your mouth.
Feeling mildly better, you grimaced when the light from the hallway reawakened your migraine. Squinting your eyes, you tried to stumble towards the noise coming from the kitchen in the hopes that someone was brewing coffee.
You were a few feet away from the swinging door when you heard your name. Freezing in place, you peeked through the circular window and watched Steve hand Eddie a mug.
“I don’t know dude…” Eddie said, “she looked pretty sad but I don’t understand…she said some stuff. I just want to talk to her.”
Steve sighed. “Listen, I promised her I wouldn’t take sides but you have to give her some space. She’s not good at – this wasn’t easy for her. Working with you, you gotta understand that right?”
You winced. What the fuck Steve? What the hell was unclear about ‘don’t speak about this ever?’
“Right…” Eddie said, still sounding unsure.
“I’m not judging you, it was a long time ago now, and people change but, she’s still hurt. She tries to hide it but-”
“She’s hurt?” The indignation in Eddie’s voice confused you. What the hell did he have to be mad about?
You heard Steve’s soft laughter. “Besides, you both looked pretty cozy to me last night. I see the way you look at her. She might be blind to it, but we’re not. Dustin definitely isn’t.”
Eddie sputtered, and you heard the nerves in his tone as he stumbled over his words. The instinct to defend yourself, to deny it, was so strong you had to grab the doorknob to keep you steady. You wanted to hear what Eddie had to say. Blind to what?
“That’s-”
“Dingus!” Robin’s voice cried, “Is that coffee I smell? God my head feels like fucking lead!”
She bumped into you, jarring your heads, and you both groaned at the same time.
“Sorry,” she moaned, “I didn’t hear you come out the bathroom. My brain is pounding.”
You did your best to look like you weren’t just eavesdropping on them and waved away her apologies. Robin shoved the doors and you followed suit.
Steve grinned, his eyes teasing over his mug of coffee and you knew you were going to pay for the shit you’d given him the last time you had to pick up him from a bar.
“So, let’s recap the night, shall we?”
Robin groaned and you stood in silence, sipping at your coffee, taking each teasing jab with a smile or scowl. Eddie’s arm brushed against yours as you sat at the kitchen island next to him and you jumped. He smiled, making room for you, and you mumbled your thanks. The memory of his arms wrapping around you in the woods flashed through your mind and you stiffened. Shit. Had you said anything embarrassing? Just be normal, be cool, you snapped at yourself.
Despite everything, you still felt Eddie’s eyes on you the whole morning.
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This was weird. You were being weird.
And yet…you had still shrugged Eddie’s hoodie on over your shoulders this morning. The worn material was soft and warm.
There was absolutely no reason, aside from your clear temporary insanity, for you to be wearing it. In fact, you should’ve returned it to him the next day. But here you were. In your car, panicking about Eddie seeing you in it and scrambling to take it off. You had reached for it that morning without realizing that you had a whole shift with him.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” You muttered to yourself, pulling on your outer coat on and checking your hair.
In your defense, everything between you two seemed to have shifted after that night – after the party. Despite the fact that you couldn’t remember half of the night. Eddie had done a one eighty and spent most of his time being…well…nice to you. You were both still trying to win the dinner but, it was about making yourself look good rather than making Eddie seem lacking.
It’d been a whole five days and you hadn’t had a single homicidal thought once. That had to be a record; something of that caliber had to be documented.
So, because of all this – you’d yet to give back the sweater. He hadn’t asked you for it and you’d possibly taken advantage of that. Last night, you’d had a nightmare about Homecoming and it had been enough of a wake-up call that you’d become resolute in returning it to him today.
While you’d laid down the metaphorical pitchfork, your suspicion still lingered. You couldn’t help it at this point, it was in your nature.
“Hey,” you said, walking into the store.
Eddie whipped his head around to you and smiled. “Good morning, Lightning.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled when he shot you one of his stupid soft smiles. You weren’t sure if it was guilt from hoarding his sweater or a genuine effort at peace, but you pulled out the breakfast muffins you’d baked last night. Coming out to the counter, you hopped into the high chair and placed the second muffin onto the far left.
“Would it be presumptuous of me to assume that the second one is for me?” Eddie’s voice drifted over from the sci-fi section.
“It would be actually, that’s my second helping,” you said, hiding your smile as you turned to check the returns bin.
Eddie gripped his chest and pretended like he’d been shot. “You wound me, m’lady.”
With a light laugh, you shook your head and waved to the muffin. “You never eat breakfast and I made too many of them…”
His brown eyes softened, his hand coming out to cradle the baked good in his hands. “I can’t believe I’m finally worthy of a Lightning Special.”
Quirking a brow, you watched him take a big bite. He moaned around the food, your heart tripping over itself, and shook his head. “What the hell is a Lightning Special?”
“It’s what I call whatever you’d cooked. You’d always bring Steve or Robin some extras and I’d never admit it, but they always smelled amazing.”
“I would’ve given you some if you’d asked,” you mumbled, smirking when he shot you a disbelieving look. “I don’t know why you’ve got this idea I’m a gremlin or something. I’d like to think most people think I’m polite.”
Eddie snorted and you crumpled up your napkin to chuck at him. “Eddie! Fine, see if I ever bring you something else.”
“Oh, come on,” he said, rolling his eyes when you crossed your arms. With a dramatic flourish unique to Eddie, he walked over to your chair, bowed, and pressed a hand to his heart. “I’m so sorry your highness, can you ever forgive me?”
“Buy me a coffee on break and I’ll think about it.”
With a wide grin, he snapped his fingers. “Done!”
You hopped off the chair, your stupid vest getting stuck on the arm, and stumbled forward. Eddie’s hands steadied your arms and the both of you froze. Noses a few inches apart, you blinked up at him. “I-I’m stuck,” you stuttered, wincing when you heard your own voice. Mistaking your wince for pain, Eddie’s hand darted to the garment and freed you.
“Thanks,” you said, not able to look at him in the eye. Both of you awkwardly took a few steps back – Eddie’s hand coming up to the back of his neck.
“Right, yeah, no problem,” he stammered, walking back to the discarded muffin.
Not wanting the awkwardness to linger, shit – maybe you had gotten used to the ceasefire, you reached for his forearm and were struck by how warm he was. “I promise to bring you some of the baked stuff when I make them,” you said. Eddie’s eyes softened and you watched as they dipped, for a millisecond, down to your lips. Suddenly, it felt too hard to inhale properly.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said eventually.
The bell on the door rang and you both jumped apart. “Hi, welcome to Family Video,” you both said, a touch too loud. Amused, you shot him a look that he laughed at.
“Hi! I’m looking for Eddie – oh, hey Eddie,” a soft voice said. You glanced up and realized you faintly recognized the girl standing by the doors.
Eddie’s cheeks flushed and you blinked, surprised. The girl he was dancing with at the Hideout, your mind supplied. You watched her tuck a strand of inky shiny black hair behind her ear and you fought the urge to scowl.
Without any prodding, you pointed to Keith’s office. “Oh, I totally forgot I need something from there, right now,” you said, ushering yourself into his office before anyone could say anything.
Unsure of what to do, and definitely not wanting to touch anything, you sat on the edge of the chairs by his desk. God, Keith really needed to clean this room. Ew, was that a moldy sandwich?
Keeping the door ajar, you tried your best not to listen in but your mind wouldn’t shut off.
“Gareth said you wouldn’t mind, I swear I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t desperate,” she said, her voice too soft for you to hear anything after.
Eddie’s mumbled something. “-I owe you one.”
“Thank you so much! Can you pick me up around eight? I’ll wear the blue dress from the bar.”
“It’s a date.”
A date? Your heart stilled. Of course they were dating – she looked like his perfect match. Trying your best to ignore the sudden pressure in your chest, you looked around for something you could use as an excuse.
The bell to the front rang again and you shot up to your feet, anxiety ricocheting. Grabbing the first thing you saw, an empty folder on Keith’s desk, you walked out with your eyes on the ground.
“Oh, you just missed Clara,” Eddie said, “you met her at the bar last week.”
“Yeah?” You said, disinterested.
“She said to tell you that she’ll sell you her kidney if you give her the recipe for the muffins,” he said, smile growing.
Your eyes, however, darted to the muffin wrapper crumpled up on the counter. He’d given it to her? The knot in your throat grew and you nodded. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
Eddie’s brows furrowed and you just turned to the shelves. “Hot date?” You asked, like the masochist you were.
“You overheard?” Eddie asked with an anxious smile. Jesus, you cringed internally, did he need to be so in your face about it? “I’m a little nervous to go but, you know, at least this time I know I won’t be stood up. It’s all a joke anyway.”
Your blood froze. “What’d you just say?”
The front door rang again, Robin’s face coming into your peripheral as she yawned. “Hey guys,” she said, eyeing your clenched hands. “What’s wrong?”
“Did you really just say that to me?” You asked, a little disbelieving.
“Say what? That I might not be stood up?” He asked, confused.
It was getting hard to breathe, the anxiety bubbling up in your chest. You really couldn’t believe it - Eddie could be mean, rude, loud - but he was never cruel. You both had an unspoken rule never to talk about it, and he broke it.
Not able to keep the words down, they spilled out with vengeance. “Wow, you’re going to throw Homecoming back at my face now? After all this time?”
Eddie’s face morphed into confusion. “Homecoming? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Right,” you snorted, the painful memories floating to the surface. “I can’t believe I thought you’d changed. That you were actually going to be nice to me.”
“I am nice to you! What the fuck is going on?” He hissed.
Robin stepped up between you both, her hand coming up to you. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“He’s what’s wrong!” You blurted out, the tension of the last few weeks spilling out. “You know what you did to me – I thought we agreed never to talk about it. Wasn’t it embarrassing enough?”
“What I did to you?” Eddie half-shouted.
Robin shot him a hard look. “Everyone, let’s calm down for a second-”
“Good morning,” Keith’s voice boomed in the empty store. Steve walked in behind him, brows raised, as he caught onto the tension in the air.
Oblivious, Keith strode towards his office. “I just need to grab something I left. I will let you both know -- I’ve submitted my notes to the senior supervisor and we should have our first employee of the month by tomorrow!”
Feeling like you were underwater, you grounded yourself with Robin’s touch. “Hey, look at me, what happened? What did Eddie do?”
“Nothing! I’m the one who looked like an idiot that day!” Eddie hissed.
You stepped back, as if he’d struck you, and you realized Steve’s expression had turned thunderous.
“Hey, dude, that was uncalled for. I thought we talked about this,” he said, moving to stand by your side.
“Talk about what?” Robin asked again.
“Ask him,” you said, pointing to Eddie. Turning to the back room, you scrambled to get your things, tears making your vision swim.
As you stalked back out, you saw Robin holding Steve back by the arm. Bypassing them both, you turned to Eddie, anger coming off you in waves. “I can’t believe you,” you snapped at him, “you - you can’t just joke about that night. Wasn’t it enough that you just fucking left me there? You knew how much I liked you. I can’t do this anymore. Hey Keith? I don’t want the dinner. Eddie and his date deserve it.”
Without looking back, you slammed the door open and all but peeled out the parking lot. The grip on your steering wheel was so tight you were sure you’d have bruises. As you made you way home, you let your mind wander back to that night.
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“Just go ask him!” Anne urged you, her eyes sparkling. “Look, he’s alone right now!”
Your fingers fluttered nervously around the hem of your shirt. “But what if he laughs at me?”
“He won’t!”
“You don’t know that!”
Anne huffed exaggeratedly. “Oh my God, just go ask him!” She shoved you into the room and darted away like the traitor she was.
Eddie looked up, surprised at the sound of someone else in the room. When he saw it was you, his smile bloomed. Your stomach fluttered, anxiety doubling. You’d only recently started talking to each other, after your biology project together last semester.
“Hey you,” Eddie said, dropping the papers in his hand onto the table. “What are you doing here?”
Sputtering, you stumbled over your words. “Hi. I – uh-”
“Are you joining the dnd club?” Eddie asked incredulously.
“No – hey, wait why’d you say it like that?” You crossed your arms, nervousness forgotten for a moment.
Eddie’s hands shot up, brows smoothing. “I didn’t say it like anything!”
“I could be here for dnd,” you insisted, not sure why you felt so indignant about it.
“Are you?” Eddie asked after a beat.
Clearing your throat, you tried to hide your embarrassment. “Well, no…”
“I knew it!” He said, grinning smugly. “What can I do for you fair maiden?”
You watched Eddie go back to setting up for his campaign. Glancing at the time, you realized if you were going to ask him – you had to ask him now. Before any of his friends showed up. Besides, if he rejected you then you had all weekend to sulk about it.
“Um, are you going to the Homecoming dance?”
Eddie snorted and your heart sunk. “It’s Sadie Hawkins this year. Who’s going to ask me?” He said, completely unselfconsciously.
“Oh.”
His eyes turned towards yours and he blinked, surprised by what he found. “Are you...wait, are you asking if I’m going or asking if I’ll go with you?”
“I-I…” You wrung your hands together, anxiety bubbling. Maybe you should just leave…you could lie and tell Anne that he said he wasn’t going. Surely the girls wouldn’t force you to try again.
Something shifted in Eddie’s gaze and you suddenly felt a surge of courage in your chest. Squaring your shoulders, you nodded to yourself.
“Eddie Munson,” you said, “will you go to the Homecoming dance with me?”
After a beat of silence, Eddie’s blank expression morphed into a wide smile. “Really?”
“I…I really like you,” you admitted, mortification softening at the sight of his grin growing even wider. “I’d like to go with you. If you want to go with me.”
Eddie blinked.
“Eddie?” You asked, stepping closer when he didn’t answer.
He jolted, as if he’d been shocked and bobbled his head furiously. “Oh, yeah – definitely, like fucking absolutely.”
You brought your hand up to hide your laughter at his half-screamed reply. “Okay, um, cool,” you said, scuffing your cleats onto the linoleum floor.
“Do you wanna meet in the parking lot?” You asked. “Before the dance?”
“Yeah,” Eddie said, still staring at you a little incredulously. You smiled at him and watched as the red flush traveled down his neck.
“Okay, um, so I’ll see you later?” You asked as you heard faint footsteps coming towards the room.
Eddie straightened. “Yeah, I’ll see you Monday.”
With a grin, you waved awkwardly and darted out the room. Before you could fully let the door close, you heard Eddie’s loud ‘yessss!’
Not able to keep in your laugh, you rushed over to the doors and saw Anne leaning against the frame.
“So?” She asked, perking up.
Grinning, you threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “I owe you a milkshake.”
Anne squealed and you laughed, following her towards your bikes.
--
“I don’t understand, you talked to him two days ago right?” Anne asked, her hands fluttering nervously. Her date, Mark, looked just as anxious. The dance had started an hour ago and upon not seeing you inside, Anne had come looking for you.
“Yeah,” you said, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “He kissed me on the cheek and said he couldn’t wait. I told him what color my dress was going to be – h-he said his uncle told him that was important.”
“Maybe something happened,” Mark added, eyes wide. “Like an emergency?”
Not having thought of that, you straightened. Anne’s hand almost knocked you in the face as she pointed towards a couple walking towards the doors. “That’s his friend, right? The one he plays with? Go ask him! Aw shit, I forgot my bag on the table. I’ll be right back.”
You whirled around to look at where she’d pointed and hurried over to him. His date, a pretty girl in red, tugged on his hand as you made your way over.
“Hi, um, Jeff right?”
“Yeah,” he said gruffly, eyes glaring. “What do you want? He’s not here.”
Confused, you took a few steps back. “I know – I wanted to ask you if you knew where he was? I’ve been waiting-”
“He knows, okay?” Jeff said with a sneer. “He knows what you did.”
“What I did?” You asked, not sure what he was talking about. Jeff’s eyes drifted over your shoulder to where Mark stood at a distance.
Jeff’s eyes hardened. “It was all a joke – a stupid joke. I can’t believe you even showed up.”
Your heart plummeted to your feet. A joke? He’d accepted as a joke? But Eddie…he couldn’t have…
“Go back to your real date and do us a favor and stay away,” Jeff warned, walking past you and heading inside.
Frozen to the spot, you felt the tears spill over as a hand wrapped around your wrist. Anne’s frown swam into your blurry vision and she shook you. “What happened? Mark, what happened? What’d he say?”
“I need to call…I need to call your sister. Would she come pick me up?”
“Jesse? Yeah, she would. But what happened?”
Not able to speak past the lump in your throat, you burst into tears and Anne’s nervous hands fluttered over you. “Okay, okay – Mark, go call my sister. Tell her she needs to come back now.”
It was all a stupid joke. Of course, he didn’t want to come to some stupid dance. Not with you.
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You called out of work for the week. At this point, you didn’t care if Keith fired you.
For the first few days, like clockwork, Steve and Robin took turns calling your house. Your sister had made it her job to speed to the phone before your mom, letting them know that you were sick and couldn’t come to the phone. She’d been too little to remember your middle school Homecoming but, you promised you’d make it up to her.
On the third day of your self-imposed quarantine, your mom brought you up some lunch midday. “You know,” she said quietly, her hand coming out to rub your calf. “The supermarket was looking for someone to work morning shifts. It’d give you enough time until you start your semester next year.”
“Thanks mom,” you said quietly, still wrapped in your comforter. “I’ll check it out.”
With a soft sigh, she pressed a kiss to your forehead and nodded. “I’m here if you want to talk.”
On the fourth day, you finally decide that you’ve moped for long enough. This was something you needed to move on from. How pathetic to still be upset over something that had happened in middle school?
Except it mattered to you, your mind added helpfully, because you really like him.
“Shut up,” you hissed at yourself.
“We didn’t say anything yet,” a voice behind you said.
Squealing in surprise, you instinctively threw the socks you’d been folding at the sound. The cotton bundles bounced off Robin’s chest and you brought your hand up to your face. “Jesus fucking Christ, you scared the shit out of me.”
Robin rolled her eyes and walked into your room like she always did. Steve, a little sheepishly, waved and sat by your desk.
“How did you get inside?” You asked, crossing your arms.
“Your mom when she was leaving for work,” Steve said, shooting Robin a look.
“I live a house down, I can see that you haven’t left yet,” Robin huffed. “Keith has us all on double shifts until you’re back Sunday, the least you could do is look happy to see us.”
“Well,” you grumbled, “I’m busy.”
“Super busy,” she said, motioning to the laundry on your bed.
“Robin…”
Her indignant expression softened. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you both hated each other over some stupid high school clique stuff.”
“To be fair I didn’t tell anyone.”
Robin’s arm shot out too fast for Steve to avoid it. He grunted as her knuckles hit his sternum. “You told Dingus!”
“To be fair, I was drunk and a little stressed post-Vecna win,” you turned to Steve for corroboration and he nodded.
“She was,” he snorted, “she puked in my mom’s rosebush.”
A flash of that night echoed in your mind. You winced. Jesus, you really needed to stay away from tequila. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you told Robin, “I asked Keith to keep me on closings. Just for a while.”
“You both can’t avoid each other forever. Eddie-”
Not wanting to hear his name, you put up your hand. “I don’t want to talk about it!”
Robin huffed. “But he said-”
“I don’t care what he said! He can date whoever he wants to date! This is such a stupid thing to be upset over anyway. I’m over it. It’s ancient history.”
You could see Robin turn to Steve. Catching his gaze with yours, you watched his eyes soften at whatever he found. God, you must look really pathetic if Steve looked like he wanted to wrap you in a blanket and hide with you. He shook his head. “Leave it alone Rob.”
She sighed, exasperated. “We can’t let this go on like this Harrington. They have to talk it out!”
“Robin.”
She sighed and flopped down onto the bed. “Fine. You’re both idiots.”
“Thank you,” you said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. Robin frowned but let you change the subject to Keith’s newest blubber.
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You’d made it an entire week of shifts without running into Eddie. Robin still grumbled when his name was brought up but she kept her word and let it go. Or so you’d thought.
Honestly, you should’ve known better. She was like a dog with a bone.
“Hey,” Robin bounded up to you as you locked the front doors. “Wanna see if we can catch the last of the festival?”
Checking your watch, you frowned. “We’re not going to make it. Doesn’t it close at eleven?”
“Yeah, but some rides stay open a little later. It takes a while for everyone to clear. Besides, it’s only in town for a few more days!”
You turned to Steve, who was swinging his keys around his fingers. He shrugged, his expression a little too casual. “We could pass by on the way home. I don’t mind.” Considering he was your ride, you nodded.
“Sure?”
It took you three another thirty minutes before you were all in Steve’s BMW, cruising down towards Waverly.
The entire park was dark, only a few rides lighting up what was clearly a deserted clearing. Robin, not one to ever be deterred, hopped out the car. “I think the Ferris Wheel is still on! Let’s see if we can grab some funnel cake.”
“Go ahead, I’ll follow,” Steve said, motioning towards a quickly disappearing Robin.
Wincing at the dark. “Am I the only one who’s retained a healthy fear of what hides in the dark after all our escapades?”
Steve huffed a laugh. “I don’t think Russians are hiding in there. Go on, you’re gonna lose her,” he nodded towards a bouncing Robin.
Hopping out the car, she beamed and immediately started towards the rides.
“Robin, I think the festival is closed now,” you huffed, trying not to lose her from your sight. She barreled forward, quick, and you were struggling to keep up.
“They said some rides stay open late,” she insisted, turning a corner.
Grunting, you jogged to catch up. “Jesus, what is the hurry-” your voice trailed off as you caught sight of the only illuminated ride. Robin was standing off to the side, her expression apologetic.
Eddie stood by carousel, his hands tucked into his pockets and his shoulders up by his ears.
“No,” you said, already turning around to head back towards Steve’s car. Robin’s hand caught you quickly, her grip surprisingly tight. “Is this a prank? Do you guys think this is a joke?” You asked Robin, feeling beyond hurt this time.
“Hey, no,” she said quickly arms coming to yours. “I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear. You know me.”
You did. Robin didn’t have a mean bone in her body.
“Just, hear him out? You don’t need to forgive him but he’s got an explanation. A stupid one,” she said loudly, and you watched as Eddie winced, “but I think you need to hear it to move on from all of this.”
“Robin…”
“Yeah, I’m not buying your whole – it was middle school, I’m over it, bullshit. Please? I’m going to be over there with Steve probably eavesdropping if you need me or want to leave at any moment,” she said, “Steve said he’s open and ready to punch anyone you need him to.”
“I punch harder than Steve,” you said, crossing your arms.
“Dustin punches harder than Steve,” Robin said, “it’s the thought that counts.’
You rolled your eyes, tears building at the corners. Glancing back to Eddie, you nodded. “Okay.”
Catching sight of Gareth, he waved weakly at you. Lifting a hand back, you ignored Eddie’s hand and climb up the steep stairs by yourself. “What’s he doing here?” You asked Eddie, your first words to him since that day in at the store.
“He’s doing me a favor and keeping it open for a little while later. I know you said you had wanted to come here,” Eddie explained, nodding towards Gareth who had moved towards the control station. You climbed into a carriage instead of a horse and sat.
Eddie, for a moment, looked like he was going to sit next to you but the withering glare you sent his way gave him pause. Instead, he made his way towards the horse next to your carriage and awkwardly stood by the pole.
“How long is this ride?” You asked.
“Three minutes.”
You checked your watch. “You’ve got three minutes Munson. What the hell is so important you orchestrated all this to get me here?”
He opened his mouth and you felt your anger flare all over again. “You know you really have some nerve,” you huffed, not letting him speak.
Eddie sighed. “Lightning-”
“-don’t call me that! I can’t believe you’d-”
“-I’ve been in love with you since middle school!” He shouted over you, chest heaving.
Shocked into silence, you felt your eyes widen and watched Eddie as his skin flushed.
“You were the nicest seventh grader I had ever met,” Eddie started, his voice straining to be louder than the music. “You were the star of the soccer team, fast as lighting. Anytime someone was mean to me, or my friends, you were always the first to come to my defense. You never said anything about my nail polish, our club, about the band t-shirts, or the shaved head.”
Eddie took a deep breath. “When we were sophomores and they announced that the Homecoming was going to be a Sadie Hawkins theme, I was crushed. It was the first dance we were allowed to attend and I had spent the entire first semester determined to finally ask you to go,” he said and ran a hand through his hair.
“I thought, there’s no way you’ll ask me. We’d done that project together but after all that time, I didn’t even think you knew my name. Then, that day afterschool, you came up to me and asked me to the dance. I couldn’t believe it. I think I must’ve told Wayne about it like a hundred times that week. He’d worked a few extra shifts to get me my first suit. I wanted everything to be perfect. Then, a week before the dance, Gareth and Jeff had overheard the soccer team talking about you betting over your dates to the Homecoming dance.”
Your brows furrowed and Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’d decided I was going to confront you – because, there was no way you’d made a bet. You were nice – you wouldn’t do that. I had barely gotten to the field when I heard your friends mention how it was all a joke. ‘I can’t believe she took the bet to ask Eddie out to the dance,’ they all laughed and I got pissed. I wanted to find you and call you out on it.”
What? Why the hell would your team say that?
“Eddie, I-” He held up a hand and you frowned.
“Before I could find you, I ran into Brittney. Who, after realizing I was looking for you, told me that you’d never meant it. That it had all been a joke. So, as a completely and utterly heartbroken fifteen-year-old, I avoided you after that. You’d slipped that note into my locker about meeting me in the parking lot before the dance and I couldn’t believe you’d be so…well, cruel. I stayed home the entire night, playing video games with Gareth and Liam. You never said anything the next day after the dance, Jeff didn’t either – he says he’s sorry by the way - then you started dating the men’s soccer captain so I assumed…”
What the fuck?
“Wait Brittney?” You asked, confused, he nodded. You briefly remembered how much she’d hated you. “Brittney Johnson told you I had been joking? That bitch.” Oh my God, you were going to fucking strangle her the next time you saw her. Eddie looked more confused at your outburst but you urged him to continue.
“While I managed to avoid you successfully, you were always in my peripheral and you’re so fucking beautiful it hurt. So, when you popped up in the shack at Rick’s house with everyone else, it was just the safer option with what was going on to fall into the constant arguing. You argued back so I thought, this was safe. We could both let stupid high school shit go?
Then…well…you believed me. When I told you about Chrissy – when we went back down there, you fought next to me. You were there when I woke up,” Eddie cleared his throat, eyes flashing.
“Then the whole best employee thing happened and uh, then it became apparent to me that maybe you had a different recollection of that week.”
Holy shit. You rubbed your temple as a headache bloomed at the base of your skull. You’d realized that the ride had long been over, both of you facing the lit Ferris Wheel.
Rubbing the tension building in your temples, you nodded. “Uh yeah. My friend Molly - the only other freshman on the team, had been bet by the other junior girls on the team that she wouldn’t ask out her crush, Teddy - a junior. She asked and he accepted but everyone was worried he’d find out it was a bet because they actually liked each other. That had nothing to do with me. Brittney was a jealous bitch because I'd managed to get captain over her and she knew how much I liked you,” you thought back to all those times in the locker room you’d spent with Jessica urging you to ask Eddie to the dance. “I'm going to rake her fucking eyes out,” you said to yourself.
Eddie blinked, looking dumbstruck. “So what you’re saying is that I stood you up for no reason. Because I’m an idiot?”
“An eavesdropping idiot,” you said through a disbelieving smile. “Although, to be fair, having Brittney confirm it for you probably didn't help. You should've...come to me. I don't - I didn't think you thought I was capable of something like that.”
“Right,” Eddie said faintly.
A little hurt, you kicked at the edge of the carriage you sat in. “I wouldn’t have done something like that – to anyone. I don’t… know why you thought I would’ve. I always saw how people treated you and hated it. I never let anyone on either soccer team mess with you or your friends. Even after...I was so excited to go with you - I thought you were really cool and sweet.”
“Sweet?”
The memory of the first time you’d talked to Eddie floated up to the front of your mind. “Yeah. After what you did in seventh grade…”
“What?”
You sighed. “I tripped in gym class and smacked my head into the goal post. I was mortified but you took me to the nurse’s office and stayed with me the entire period. You told jokes and made me laugh. I don’t know, I always sought you out afterwards. Besides, you know,” you said pointedly. You didn’t want to say it – he had to know.
He took a step forward, as if that would draw it out of you. “I really don’t and even if I did, I’ve had enough assumptions to last a lifetime.”
Not able to keep it to yourself, and tired of the misunderstandings, you shrugged. “You’re beautiful Eddie, how could I not have a crush on you? I thought…you did too until I was standing at the dance, in my new dress, with your friends letting me know you weren’t coming. That you’d never taken my offer seriously. Because who would want to go with some stupid jock?”
Eddie smiled before groaning and clutching at his temple. “Oh my god, I’m a fucking idiot.”
You shrugged, the lump in your throat growing. What a fucking mess. “Listen, its history, at this point. We had a massive misunderstanding, for years, and now we’ve cleared it up. I promise to try and stay out of your way-”
“No,” Eddie said quickly, “I don’t - I like being friends.”
“Is that what we were? Have we ever been?”
Hurt flashed across his face before he ducked his head and scuffed his shoe against the metal. “Do you think we could-”
“No,” you said quickly, your walls coming back up.
You had officially given up on this. This, whatever this was, between you two was too difficult to try and make work.
“Right,” Eddie nodded, eyes on the horse to your left, “that was a stupid question, sorry.”
Feeling the urge to comfort him, you clenched your hands into fists. “I’m not - I’m just, it’s a lot to process. I need to get my head on straight for Spring semester. I’m starting school and it’s been a lot with everything going on. I just…I need time. Maybe we can be friends for once.”
Eddie nodded dumbly, his eyes following you as you stood and made your way towards the steps. You turned to him and ask. “Why the festival?”
A ghost of a smile twitched at his lips. “You said you’ve been dying to go but had closing shifts almost all month. I thought, I might as well.”
“Oh,” you said softly. “I’ll…see you later.”
“Yeah, right,” he ducked his head and waved his hand. You stumbled towards the red BMW waiting for you in the parking lot.
“So…” Steve started. He grunted when Robin smacked him. “What? We're just going to sit in silence and pretend we didn't all hear that?”
Robin turned to look at you. “I'll egg Brittney's house with you if you want.”
Steve perked up. “Holy shit yeah, her brother is a piece of shit.”
You smiled, touched by their offer. “Let's just go to your house Harrington, you promised me a movie night.”
Steve huffed. “Does this mean you two are finally going to stop attacking each other?”
“Or that maybe you'll go on a date with him?” Robin perked up.
“Robin.”
“What? Like you weren't wondering the same thing!”
“I always knew he liked you,” Steve said.
“Yeah okay,” you snorted, finally joining in the conversation.
Robin laughed with you. “I did!” He insisted. “You should see the way he looks at you. It’s like he comes alive when you walk into a room.”
Your heart stumbled and you sighed.
“Dingus! You’re not making this any easier!”
“She asked!”
You let their bickering fade into the background, your conversation with Eddie swirling around in your mind.
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“So,” Steve said, dragging out the vowels.
You glanced at him from where you were using his mom’s fancy mixing bowl for the cake you were baking. El had shyly asked you for the chocolate cake you’d made last year for Max’s birthday. Not one to ever say no to El, you’d set up camp at Steve’s.
Watching him struggle to figure out what to say, you sighed.
“Spit it out, Steven.”
“That’s not my name,” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair, “now that we’ve all sort of put this whole Homecoming business behind us – I was thinking-”
Steve’s voice faded out as you thought back to the past week. It’d been incredibly awkward for the first few days, both you and Eddie avoiding each other as much as you could. On the third day, your regular shared morning shift, he’d brought you a coffee from your favorite bakery. The ice hadn’t completely melted, but it was warming up.
“Hey, are you even listening to me?”
Blinking away your busy thoughts, you shot Steve an apologetic look. “Sorry Steve, what’d you say?”
“I was saying,” he huffed, “since we’re all over this now, how’d you feel about going on a date?”
“What?” You said, completely taken aback.
Steve shrugged. “The girl I’m seeing asked me if I was interested in a double date. Her best friend, Sam I think, said he was up to it. I was going to say no but…thought maybe you’d want to?”
“I don’t know Steve,” you started.
“I just wanted to ask, especially considering that it’s been almost two years since you broke up with that meathead,” Steve snorted.
Rolling your eyes, you shot him a look over your shoulder. “You were friends with that meathead. It makes you a meathead adjacent.”
“I- don’t appreciate having my past drudge up that way,” Steve said, crossing his arms. You huffed a laugh.
“Where are you going?”
“Osteria da Fortuna,” Steve said, shrugging. “You and Eddie forfeited the dinner. I’m pretty sure it’s going to Robin who said she’d give it to me if I would go with her to a band party. I think her and Vicki might finally be going somewhere. Did she tell you about-”
You waved your wooden spoon in the air, effectively stopping Steve’s rambling. “What?” You said, some of the batter splattering onto the kitchen counter. “Did you just say Eddie forfeited the dinner?”
Steve frowned. “Yeah, like a week ago.”
“What.”
Why the hell would he do that? You know why, a tiny voice inside your head said.
With a narrowed glance in your direction, Steve groaned. “Are you really not going to give him a chance?”
Not this again. “Steven.”
“Okay, hear me out,” he put his hand up, “I know. I know you’re hurt that he thought you’d be the type of person to prank him over Homecoming. I know you’re annoyed at this whole mess that could’ve been cleared up if both of you had managed to get your heads out of your asses earlier. But you didn’t.”
“I-”
Steve waved his hand. “Eddie was…is not everyone’s favorite. You know that. You’ve seen how the people we thought were our friends treated the people they thought weren’t worth it. He was fifteen. Are you that stubborn that you’re going to hold onto this from over five years ago? We’ve been through so much since then.”
“I don’t know,” you said, uncertain.
“Don’t kill me but, I think you’re holding on to this hurt because you’ve realized it’s easier. It’s always been easier to hate him, to do your little bickering thing. It’s easier to keep him at a distance because if you never let him in close again you won’t get hurt. But it’s been this long, you’ve both dated other people, and you both haven’t moved on. What does that say?”
You frowned. “That we’re stubborn immature idiots?”
“Yes and?”
You blinked.
Steve sighed. “You’re both so obviously into each other. Even when you’d fight, it was like foreplay or something. You both believed you had the right reasons to hate the other but you’ve both been hung up on each other. That means something. That’s not nothing.”
Letting Steve’s words sink in, you realized that he was right. Even when Eddie thought you’d pranked him, he’d always stuck by you. In the Upside Down, after every earthquake, he’d reached for you – arms steadying you as you fought your panic attacks.
He’d let you use his leather jacket when you were shivering from the lake water. He made sure you went through the gate first, his steady hands on your hips as you climbed. He’d made you eat a sandwich while you were all waiting for the party to get back from the gun store.
“Coming down from adrenaline is a bitch, trust me,” he said, nudging the milkshake in your direction.
He dove for you when the bats attacked, his body curled around yours as you both tried to buy your friends more time.
You thought of Eddie in the hospital bed, your hands interlocked. The way the dread in your chest wouldn’t lift until you saw his eyes open. Until you knew he’d make it through.
Jesus Christ, you still liked him. And you were doing what you always did. You were pushing him away. Even after he’d apologized and you hadn’t. Even after everything.
“Fuck you Harrington,” you said, standing and grabbing your keys off the table.
Steve’s eyes widened at your sudden departure. “Where are you going?”
“To the store!”
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Barely taking a moment to lock your car, you stomped into Family Video. As usual for Thursday mornings, it was dead. Eddie was draped across the counter as Jeff and Eddie talked to him animatedly.
Slamming the door open, all three of them jumped and turned in your direction. Dustin, seeing your thunderous expression, darted away from the counter as you stormed up to it.
“What the fuck Munson?”
Eddie blinked at you, eyes wary. “Um?”
“Why the fuck would you forfeit the dinner?” You hissed, seeing Robin’s head pop out from behind the Comedy shelves.
“Because it wasn’t right,” Eddie stammered, “I didn’t want you to give it to me.”
“Are you serious?”
Eddie’s nervous expression morphed into indignation. “What did you want me to do? Go and enjoy it when you basically handed it to me?”
Throwing an arm out, you felt a headache starting. “Isn’t that what we’ve been fighting over? For almost two months!?”
“It didn’t feel right!” Eddie insisted.
What the hell did that mean? “Munson.”
Annoyance flashed across his expression. “I’m not – I don’t – I wanted to go with you. Okay?  Every time I picture the stupid fancy Italian restaurant all I do is think of you. Everything all the time always reminds me of you. It reminds me of your stupid smile, the stupid way you give me shit for everything, the way the scent of your stupid shampoo is engraved into my brain,” he shouted, “going alone would be pathetic. At least Steve will get some use out of it.”
Your brain slowed. Your shampoo? Shaking your head, you got back to the point. The idea of that dinner going to anyone but one of you felt wrong. “Go with someone else, the grunge girl.”
Eddie looked like he wanted to throw something at you. Livid, his eyes flashed. “She doesn’t matter. That ‘date’ we were going on was her ex-boyfriend’s wedding. She was invited and didn’t want to go alone.”
Ignoring the way that made your heart flip, you crossed your arms and gave into the petty feeling swelling in your chest. “Well, I saw you two at the bar. Clearly, there’s something there.”
Eddie’s hands shot up into the air, exasperated. “I wanted to make you jealous! She knew, she was in on it. That night at the bar, she was teasing me about how into you I was – because even she could tell. Everyone else besides you is painfully insignificant. Okay? You’re the only one that matters. Since I was twelve. I’m pretty sure the reason me and Amy broke up junior year is because even she could tell I was gone on you. Give me more than a week to try and get over that.”
Taken aback by his sudden confession, and unable to ignore that, your arms dropped to your sides. “Are you…trying to get over me?”
Eddie shot you contemptuous look. “Well, considering that I didn’t realize I was the asshole that stood you up all those years ago and you’ve hated me since then and the likelihood of you ever loving me back is close to nothing, yeah, Lightning, I’m trying to get over you. So, excuse me, if I don’t want to go to a stupid fucking restaurant and think of you the entire time.” His chest heaved like he’d just run a race and all you could think of is how much you wanted to kiss him.
“You love me?” You echoed, like a broken record.
“Oh my god, is that all you heard?” Eddie started a verbal rampage, his arms flinging around for emphasis. As you watched his animated speech, you realize how stupid this whole thing was. Steve was right. You were so used to being guarded, to the traumatic events that seemed to never end after Starcourt, that you were pushing away something important. Something that could good, and you were risking it over your own stupid fear.
This was it, you thought, the second chance you’d always secretly hoped you’d get despite your anger and hurt. You weren’t going to let this one slip away too.
Before Eddie could start on another tirade, you grabbed the edges of his vest, hauled him across the counter, and towards you.
For a beat, you could feel his confusion radiating off of him. You pulled him tighter to you, your tongue tracing the seam of his lips. As if struck, he surged forward to meet you, his own arms coming up to your forearms. He whined as you softly bit into his bottom lip before pulling back.
“Fucking finally!” Dustin cheered. Jeff shushed him.
Eddie, on the other hand, looked dazed as his eyes darted around your face. “Please tell me you aren’t messing with me.”
“I don’t know about love just yet,” you said quietly, “but, take me to dinner and we’ll talk.”
Eddie blinked twice before a slow grin grew on his face. “Italian restaurant? Tonight at eight? I heard some place called Osteria something is meant to be great.”
“I thought you forfeited it to Keith,” you said, laughing when he vaulted over the counter and settled his arms around your waist. He pulled you into another kiss and, this time, snipped at your lip. You couldn’t hold back the shiver it caused. The mischievous glint in his eyes let you know that he’d noticed. “Shut up.”
“I’ll give it back to you two!” Robin said eagerly, her eyes lighting up.
Eddie, without taking his eyes off of you, pointed in Robin’s general direction. “I’m naming my first born after you Buckley.”
Robin snorted. “Hear that, Lightning? Your first kid’s my namesake.”
Eddie flushed, his neck turning a little splotchy. “That’s not what I meant.”
With a swift, quick kiss, you couldn’t help but place a second kiss to his neck. You watched in fascination as his jaw clenched. “I mean, there’s no harm in practicing,” you teased, smiling when Eddie groaned and dropped his forehead to your shoulder.
“You’re killing me Superstar.” Eddie lifted his head after a beat, his eyes catching yours. “So, what do you say?”
You watched his eyes dart around your face, as if committing this moment to memory, and you let your own hand trail a line across his stubble. He leaned into your touch, his lips coming to kiss your palm. Your heart fluttered, threatening to break free from your chest. Steve was never going to let you live this down. But, as Eddie ducked down to catch your gaze, you raised yourself up higher to catch his lips a third time. That was going to get addicting quick.
“It’s a date, Munson.”
AN: I am so sorry the ending is so weak lmao but I had the first 75% of it in my drafts for months. It was starting to haunt me.
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gold-dustwomxn · 4 months
Text
mystified
part 4
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summary: after sudden attacks on women around town, you take a self defense class. ellie, your long standing crush is the instructor
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
cw: violence, alcohol consumption, smoking weed, smut mdni!!!!
oral (e receiving), strap (r receiving)
angst fluff and smut
a loud chiming paired with vibrations has you jumping up, hand pressed flat against your racing heart. your rude alarm blares into your ear as you groan into your pillow. shit never fails to scare you half to death time every single time. as you lay in your bed and wipe away the sleep from your eyes, your mind floods with ellie ellie ellie. you’ve been with her practically everyday and you can’t seem to get enough of her. she’s the first thing on your mind when you wake up, and the last thing on your mind before you fall asleep.
ellie🌿🗡️: Morning babe. I hope you have a good day. Try to pay attention in class instead of texting me. I’ll see you later🖤
me: good morninggg💗 i’ll try my best for u 🫡 try not to get injured at work again
you giggle and feel those butterflies in your stomach again. it’s pathetic how giddy she makes you feel from a simple text.
dina🤍: are u and ellie coming to the party tonight? istg if u say no
me: uggh idk. u know I hate those college parties
dina🤍: cmonnn u guys never come out. youve both been holed up in a lesbian fuck fest for like 2 weeks straight
me: LMAO stfu. fine I’ll ask ellie if she wants to go
ellie grudgingly agrees to go to said party for your sake, and because she’s been neglecting her friendship with jesse just a little bit— too preoccupied with wanting to spend as much time as possible with you, and you her.
she decides she’ll stay sober for the night so she can drive and keep an eye on you. as you walk into the party hand in hand, you’re flooded with an overwhelming stench of alcohol and weed, strobing lights and music so loud that you feel the bass thumping in your chest. it’s too fucking crowded and hot. you need a drink to loosen up.
“well, well, well, would you look at who the cat dragged in.” jesse smirks at the two of you, receiving a double eye roll from both you and ellie. “who the fuck speaks like that anymore jesse?” ellie says with a laugh. “just good to see you alive in the flesh and all.” dina giggles and attacks you with a warm hug.
she steals your attention away from ellie, fiddling with your shirt with a goofy smirk. you laugh and narrow your eyes, “what is it?” dina leans in closer to whisper, “so, what’s the deal with you two.. are you official yet?”
you look at ellie to make sure she isn’t watching and whisper, “no, we haven’t.. labeled anything? I don’t know.. I mean, I do wanna make it official, but I don’t wanna scare her away, you know? kinda just letting it play out and see what happens.”
she looks at you, unamused. “stop being a pussy, you guys have been in love with each other for years. It’s not like she’s some random girl that you just met.” you roll your eyes, “relaxxx, it’ll happen when it happens.” dina laughs and shakes her head, “whatever you say. I need another drink.”
as she walks over to mix a gross concoction of god knows what, your eyes drift back to ellie who is preoccupied, deep in conversation with jesse. your eyes wander over every inch of her, biting your lip. her muscles are pulled taut against her flannel, jeans tight around her thighs, intoxicating green eyes glowing from the flashing lights in the room. one drink has you so fucking horny, it’s ridiculous.
ellie catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, “you good, babe?” she chuckles. you look away, trying to save face. “yup, I’m feeling good. can you come with me to the bathroom?” she nods with no hesitation, innocently thinking that you just want her to stick close by.
as soon as the door closes, you pull her tightly against you by the loopholes of her jeans and slam your lips into hers. she freezes for a moment, caught off guard, but quickly catches up, slipping her tongue into your mouth with a groan and sliding her hands down to squeeze your ass.
she then tugs at your hair, pulling your head back, breathless and takes a look at your glossy eyes, and down at your swollen lips. “what do you think you’re doing, huh?” she rasps out, smirking. you lean in, placing wet, needy kisses on her neck, pawing and squeezing at her biceps, “I wanna go down on you so bad right now.” you practically whine in her ear.
she chuckles, “right now? in here?” she looks around the bathroom, scrunching up her face. “we’ve been here for like a half hour, babe.”
you cup her through her jeans, watching her breath get heavy, “c’mon, don’t you wanna feel my mouth on you?” you pout.
she removes your hand and pulls you tight against her, brushing your hair to the side, placing a kiss on your neck. you whimper as she licks a slow stripe up to the sweet spot behind you ear, giving it a small suck.
“you’re gonna be a good girl for me and wait until later.” she whispers into the shell of your ear, making you shudder. you mentally curse her for having more self control than you, while ellie mentally curses herself because she’s horny as fuck now, but loves teasing you. “ugh, fine, ellie.” she chuckles and pats your cheek, leaning in to give you one more lingering kiss.
dina being dina convinces you to take multiple shots of tequila with her while ellie stands with jesse watching the both of you dance, laughing in amusement at the two of you.
as the night goes on, you start to stumble. ellie grabs onto you, “hey, baby, I think it’s time you lay off the drinks now, huh?” she chuckles at you. you wrap your arms around her neck and nod, “mhmm, I’m getting tired. can we leave soon?” you slur out. she nods, wrapping her arms around your waist, “yeah, we can go now.”
after you say your goodbyes to dina and jesse, you walk behind ellie, trying to make your way through the sea of bodies to head out.
all of a sudden, you feel a hand squeeze your ass and you gasp, stumbling into ellie. you turn around and see a guy grinning, reeking of booze. “don’t fucking touch me!”
ellie turns around and takes in the scene, her face morphing into one of rage. she places you behind her and shoves him hard against his chest. “back the fuck up,” she grits out.
he laughs mockingly. “oh, what, is this your bitch?” time seems to stop for a moment, a chill traveling down your spine as you watch her face drop, making you suddenly feel stone cold sober.
ellie punches him square in the face, making him stumble back. people begin to move out the way, circling them, whooping and hollering as if it’s a fucking show.
he lunges at her, trying to hit back. she catches his wrist and twists his arm, as she elbows him in the face, making him fall down and grab his now seemingly broken nose.
your jaw drops as you watch ellie climb on top of him, knee to his chest as she throws punch after punch. “ellie! stop!” she doesn’t hear you, doesn’t even seem to be present in her own body.
jesse hears the commotion and runs into the room. he grabs ellie, trying to pull her off of him “ellie, stop! you got him! you’re gonna get arrested if you don’t stop!”
ellie stands up, chest heaving as she flexes and shakes out her aching hand, knuckles bloody. she looks at you, her gaze softening with guilt as she takes in your upset demeanor.
you look around at all of the people staring, and grab ellie’s arm. “c’mon, we’re leaving. now.” she looks at you as you swiftly walk ahead of her to her car. “I’m sorry-“
you cut her off, “ellie, what the fuck?! you can’t just go around beating the shit out of people like that.”
she huffs and throws her arms up in the air defensively, looking as if she was about to speak, but stops herself.
“you looked like you were gonna kill him.”
she scoffs “I wasn’t gonna kill him.” you turn to look at her, “well, if jesse hadn’t been able to stop you, who knows what would’ve happened.”
she looks down at her tattoo and rubs the skin, “guys like him need to learn that they can’t get away with shit like that! and... and seeing him look so fucking proud of himself… looking at you like you were a piece of fucking meat.”
you observe her digging her nails into her tattoo and realize where her mind is drifting off to. you stop walking and grab her face, speaking softly. “look at me. I’m safe and you’re safe. I understand that you wanna protect me, but you can’t lose it like that, okay? you need to learn to walk away unless it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t want you getting into trouble.”
she looks between your eyes and nods, grabbing gently onto one of your wrists. “okay. I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“It’s over now. everything’s okay.” you nod at her slowly and lean in to peck her lips. “c’mon, let’s go back to your place so I can clean you up.”
“you don’t have to-“ you cut her off with a semi-serious glare and she nods.
on the drive home, she rubs your thigh softly and takes small glances at you. she chews on her bottom lip anxiously, thinking about how you’re able to ground her. her chest tightens with shame— you shouldn’t have to deal with her issues.
ellie stands between your legs as you sit on top of the sink, cleaning her knuckles gently with deep concentration. she watches you and thinks about how she’s falling for you, hard. she’s never felt this way about someone before and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t scare her a little. her thoughts are interrupted as you finish and kiss the inside of her wrist. she gives you a soft smile when you look up at her and leans in to kiss you, “thanks, babe.”
ellie plucks away at her guitar as she smokes a joint while you lay there sipping on water and watch her in comfortable silence. unbeknownst to you, her mind races, picturing the look on your face after she basically bashed that guys face in.
she doesn’t think she deserves someone good and sweet like you. the idea of letting you go fucking crushes her, but it’s better to let you decide if you wanna end things now before the two of you get more serious, as if you’re both not in deep already.
she takes a hit of her joint and places her guitar to the side, laying a shaky palm on your thigh. “hey... I’m sorry about earlier.” you shake your head, “it’s okay, I promise. I’m not upset anymore.”
she looks down for a moment before looking back at you, “it’s just... you don’t deserve to have to deal with my bullshit. I understand if you don’t wanna… do this anymore.” she gestures between the two of you and fidgets nervously with her fingers.
you sit up quickly and grab her hand, stroking her knuckles. “is that what you want?” she looks at your teary eyes and shakes her head immediately. “no, no, it’s not what I want. but I want you to do what’s best for you.”
“ellie, I really like you. I’m not afraid of baggage, you don’t have to push me away.”
she looks at you, unconvinced. “I’m a fucking mess, ___. I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it yet, but I’m not the easiest person to be around sometimes.”
“and you know what’s best for me?”
“no, I’m not saying that. I just-” she throws her hands up, trying to figure out how to convey what she’s feeling.
“you’re not some broken, cold hearted person, ellie. I can decide for myself what’s good for me. you’re good for me.”
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” she whispers, eyes tearing up.
you inch closer to her on your hands and knees and give her a soft, lingering kiss.
“then, don’t.” you whisper against her lips and pull back.
she looks back at you in silence for a few moments in a daze, completely enamored with you.
you give her a teary smile and let your words settle in for her, “plus, it’s kinda hot seeing you like that. you still haven’t taught me more self defense moves like you said you would, you know.” you laugh trying to make her feel better. she lets out a weak chuckle and shakes her head.
“no, but seriously,” you place your palm on her cheek to keep eye contact, making sure she takes in your sincerity, “I lo- like you.. a lot and I wanna be with you, okay? we all have our issues. you’ll have to stick around if you wanna see mine,” you smile. ellie’s ears perk up, wondering if she was just imagining that you almost said you love her. she chuckles and nods, “okay,” she whispers, “so does this mean you wanna be my girlfriend then?”
you look at her in mock offense, “is that how you’re gonna ask me?”
she laughs, “okay, okay.” she clears her throat and straightens out her back. “___, would you like to be my girlfriend?”
you can’t help but laugh at her attempt to be serious. “yeah, I’ll be your girl.”
she gives you a wide grin and cups your face, giving you a passionate kiss.
you both pull away breathless. “you know.. I think we should consummate this relationship.”
she laughs and raises an eyebrow, “oh yeah? and how’s that?”
“well.. for one, I didn’t get to do what I wanted to earlier.”
“mhmm, you are right about that. go ahead baby.”
as ellie lays on her back, you kiss along her stomach down her v-line to her inner thighs, each kiss making her muscles tense up.
“c’mon, enough teasing.” she huffs, breath heavy with glossy eyes.
you shake your head in defiance and she grabs onto your jaw. “be good.” she says sternly, but strokes your cheek gently with her thumb.
she watches you lick a stripe up her wet folds and her eyes roll back, letting out a shaky breath.
“s-stick your tongue out, baby.”
you flatten your tongue and she takes a fistful of your hair, slowly bucking her hips against your face. “jesus.. fuck. love your fucking mouth so much.”
looking up at her with doe eyes, you moan, and she grunts, “s-so perfect for me. making me feel so good, baby.”
you bob your head up and down with her thrusts, and suck hard on her clit, making her whimper unwillingly. “oh fuuuuck. good fucking girl, don’t stop.”
she grips your hair tighter and grinds faster against your face, head falling back into the pillows and swallowing hard. “gonna cum.. fuck!”
finally her body seizes up, her hole clenching around your tongue as her arousal seeps into your mouth. “holy fuck.” she breathes out shakily. “fuckin-“ she grunts, “swallow all of it.” she holds your head in place, rocking slowly as you happily lap up every inch of her cum. “yeah.. good girl.” you pull back and brush your fingers over her thighs with a love drunk smile.
she pants and looks down at you with furrowed brows, swiping her thumb across your glossy lips, spreading around her slick and your saliva before sticking her thumb into your mouth. you suck on it and she closes her eyes, sighing.
you climb on top of her, kissing her deeply, both of you moaning into the kiss. “wait,” she pulls back.
“what?” you whine at the loss of her lips against yours.
she chuckles and sits up, opening her nightstand drawer and pulls out a box. “how would you feel if I used this on you?”
you examine the unopened box and your eyes widen when you see what’s inside, making your thighs squeeze together. “yeah-yes.” you stutter.
she laughs and traps you with her legs to flip you on your back, “yes, what?”
you yelp and giggle, “you can use it on me.” she grins and leans in to kiss you.
after ellie coaxes multiple orgasms out of you with her mouth and fingers, she gets up to grab the strap, adjusting the harness around her. “okay, you sure you want it?”
you swallow hard in nervousness and excitement. “y-yeah I want it. just go slow.”
she leans down and gives you a soft kiss. “of course, baby.”
ellie lubes up the dildo and strokes the shaft before settling between your shaky legs, giving them small kisses. “you nervous?” you nod, “mhm, a little.”
she caresses your thighs and gives them gentle squeezes, “it’s okay, I’ll be gentle and if you want me to stop just tell me, okay?” you nod, “okay.”
as she slides the strap up and down your folds, you let out a whimper and spread your legs further apart. she has to bite down hard on her lip to hold back a moan.
“you ready?”
“yeah,” your breath gets heavier in anticipation.
she slowly inches her way in while rubbing small circles on your clit, eyes focused on your face. when your eyes start to tear up, she leans down and peppers soft kisses all over your face. “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”
as she bottoms out, you both moan in unison. “you okay?”
“y-yes, you can move.”
ellie starts out with a slow pace, rolling her hips into you, gradually going deeper and harder with each thrust. she feels her own arousal pooling as she watches your face twist in pleasure and the view of your cunt sucking her in.
“fuck, ellie, g-go faster please,” you moan out. ellie smirks at your words, "my pleasure, sweet girl."
she wraps your legs around her waist and starts to increase the pace and vigor of her thrusts, pounding into you hard and fast. you can feel every inch of her as she slides in and out of you, filling you up with such intensity that has you moaning uncontrollably. she groans “you look so fucking good like this,” leaning down to kiss you messily, panting into each other mouths.
she watches you with heavy lids, drunk off of the sounds of your moans and the wet sounds of your cunt. “feels good, pretty girl?”
“mmph. so good, ellie. so good.”
as she starts to increase her pace even more, you grip onto her shoulders tightly, pulling her chest to yours, sinking your nails into her skin.
“taking me s-so fucking well baby, knew you could do it.” she feels herself getting lost in her own pleasure as the base of the strap bumps against her clit just right.
your body starts to tremble against hers, with ellie having to work harder to thrust in and out of you, your moans turning into high-pitched whimpers, and she knows you’re close.
“el-ellie! fuck, I’m gonna-” she holds onto you tightly and watches you as you slip into ecstasy, and can’t help but moan herself. she thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking like this. and that view alone is enough to make her eyes roll back, triggering her own orgasm. her hips sputter as she slaps into you, leaning down to kiss you sloppily.
she lifts her head and lets out ragged breaths, her eyes glazed over, “you did so good for me, baby.” she kisses your forehead gently.
leaning on her elbows, she stares down at you, eyes mapping out every inch of your face, completely infatuated.
“I lo-“ she stops herself, it’s too early to say I love you. or is it? you’ve known each other for years, and she could’ve sworn you almost said it earlier. she decides against it, not wanting to ruin the moment.
you run your hand through her hair and brush your nose against hers, “say it,” you whisper. she looks between your eyes and swallows thickly.
“I love you,” she whispers shakily.
you lift your head, slotting your lips against hers in a slow, passionate kiss.
“I love you, too.”
tysm for reading ily all 💗💗
taglist: @me-and-your-husband @fireflyels @cinnamonmilf
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whore4abby · 5 months
Text
salt & sugar; ellie williams
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a/n; this was in my drafts for over a month and i finally finished it today lol and i kinda hate it
summary; ellie’s birthday surprise fails, so she makes it up to you in different way
warnings; smut - cunnilingus (r!receiving), mdni
wc; 0.9K
the kitchen is a delightful chaos, with flour dusting the countertops and mixing bowls scattered across the table. ellie had practically dedicated her entire day in the kitchen, the air filled with a cacophony of pots and pans clanging together. every time you even came near to the kitchen she would lovingly yet firmly shoo you away promptly, yelling about how you’re gonna ruin the surprise.
the sides of the cake smudged with swirls of frosting, giving it a gorgeous and imperfect appearance. the top adorned, with a layer of pink sprinkles that are haphazardly scattered and despite its messy appearance, you cant help but fall in love with the gesture of ellie baking for you.
in the end, it's not about the messy appearance or the not so flawless execution. It's about the intention and the effort.
your heart practically melts as ellie proudly presents the cake to you with a beaming smile filling her freckled, sun-kissed face. “happy birthday, gorgeous!”
you rush over to her, looking at her with big doe eyes. “ellie….you really made me a cake? thank you, thank you!” you can't contain your joy as you lean in to give her a tender kiss. and the realisation hits you like a wave - ellie had actually went through all the trouble of making you a cake and a giggle escapes your lips.
she slices you a generous portion of the cake and waits expectantly for you to take a bite. you happily scoop some of the cake onto your fork and you take a bite, expecting a burst of sugary goodness. however, your taste buds are greeted with an unexpected and overwhelming saltiness. and you instantly recoil at the sour taste. “ellie- what the fuck?!”
“ellie you used salt instead of sugar…!” you groan and watch her full lips form an ‘o’ shape as she realises her mistake. “fuck baby, i just ruined your birthday huh?”
you pout and shake your head, “god no! baby it doesn’t matter….the fact that you even went through all this hassle to make me a cake in the first place is the sweetest thing ever.”
you lean up to give her a kiss on her lips, lingering there for a couple seconds before pulling away and giggling, “but you’re probably the worst baker i know…”
ellies face scrunches up as she tries to defend herself, giving you a little frown. but her defense quickly falls apart, as she knows it’s true, she’s a terrible cook, her shoulders fall in defeat and she runs her hands through her messy hair.
”hey….hey, it’s okay.” you coo softly and tuck some stray hair behind her ear before planting kisses across her flushed cheeks. “ellie it really doesn’t matter. i love you, okay?”
a wave of relief washes over ellie as her eyes crinkle at the corners, smiling coyly as she nods her head. her expression soft and content as she sighs, “mhm…i love you too.” she reaches out and gently tucks some of your hair behind your ear, just the way you had done so for her seconds earlier.
ellie leans in and starts to kiss you languidly, her tongue gently swiping against yours as she pushes her hands into your hair. a soft moan escapes both of you as the kiss deepens. eventually you both surface for air and gaze at eachother with an undeniable lust.
“can i make it up to you?” her wide eyes filled with desire as she hoists you up onto the counter and drops to her knees in front of you, manoeuvring you to quickly pull off your shorts and push your panties aside. you nod dumbly, your breath hitching in your chest as she exposes your cunt to the open air, your body trembling in anticipation for what she’s about to do.
ellie looks up at you through her thick lashes, her fingers graze against your inner thighs and up towards your waiting pussy. “so wet already, baby~” she runs her fingertips over your slit and collects up all the slick pooled there and smushes it over your clit.
she leans in and with the first stroke of her tongue, she already has you whimpering out her name and begging her for more. she pushes her face against you, bumping into your clit with her nose as she licks up and down the silky skin.
ellie finally plunges her tongue into your pussy, rubbing circles over your clit with her thumb as she fucks you with her tongue. she’s lapping up at your slit and tasting you as your back arches up into her and you cry out in pleasure. “fuck….ellie. please don’t stop~”
you thrust your hips upward and gently tug on ellie's hair as the moans and whines continue to spill from your lips as she continues to lick and suck at you, tormenting your clit and flicking her tongue against it harshly.
you’re panting, absolutely consumed by the pleasure that ellie is able to coax from your body, your grip on her hair tightening as you get closer to cumming right into her mouth.
she flattens her tongue and holds it flush against you, shaking her head side to side, slurping up at your sopping hole and moaning into you. “g-gonna cum….els, fuck~” you whine, your thighs clamping around her head as you grind into her face as you cum.
the taste of you still lingering on her tongue as she stands up straight again and connects your mouths lazily, tongues meeting messily and letting you taste yourself.
you pull away and press your forehead against hers, smiling at her dreamily as you look into her blown pupils and listen to her low voice whispering to you, “happy birthday, sweet girl.”
© 2023 whore4abby all rights reserved
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mayearies · 2 months
Text
BAD HABIT miles g. morales x fem!reader
SUMMARY. miles can’t communicate. he has trouble recognizing his emotions, rio knows this. uncle aaron knows this. you don’t know this. you don’t really know anything is wrong, but you always wish him the best. but you can only wish upon the same star so many times until something changes. CONTENTS. miles being head-over-heels, mentioned break up, rio worrying for her son, uncle aaron being against the whole relationship thing, mentioned meeting his parents AUTHORS NOTE. haii i’m not back but ill feed you once every few months also format ib: luvjunie
rio .
mother knows best. we all know this. a mother knows when she sits on the couch and her 15-year-old sits next to her and starts going on about his girlfriend, how he’s everything she’s ever wanted that he’s in love.
but, a mother also knows her son. “miles, let me ask you something.” she sighed, “how much does she know about you? you tell me all these things about her, does she know the same?”
he paused, taking a soft breath, “i mean, no. but she doesn’t seem like she wants to know all that much.”
her brow creased, “if she’s dating you obviously she wants to know more about you. ¿de qué hablas?”
“yeah, i know, but she doesn’t really ask me.” his brows raised then creased a little.
confusion and concern.
“i’ll tell you one thing, girls tend to not say a lot of stuff that’s on their minds,” she cleared her throat, “they want you to tell them first. it takes a while for them to be comfortable with you.”
miles sighed and bit his cheek. now he was doubting you weren’t comfortable with him. you had only been dating a month.
“i just… want you opening up more. your uncle does too.” her voice turned softer. now miles felt a bit bad because he thought she was being unreasonable with the whole uncomfortable thing.
plus, uncle aaron knows he can’t open up like that to her. he barely has time for his hobbies because of this whole… prowler thing. so what the hell can he talk about? not to mention he can’t even talk to his mother about this because she doesn’t know that either.
“talk to her about comics-con!” miles groaned when she said that. “ma. no.”
rio pouted, “you gotta open up at some point, miles. i mean it.” she noticed one of his braids was slightly undone and braided it for him, “you’re like a shell now. i worry about you.”
miles kept quiet, after a bit he leaned on her shoulder and kept his eyes straight. “i know.”
they didn’t say anything else. rio knew miles knew already. he mumbled a ‘sorry’ and they left it at that with a kiss to his head. there wasn’t a point in talking anymore.
aaron .
“i’m tellin’ you, this isn’t gon’ work out well for you, man.” he warned, “someone’s gon’ end up getting hurt. both you, and her.”
“not like you liked her that much anyway.” miles muttered under his breath, sitting on the couch ans watching the news. just the same thing every week. sinister six this, sinister six that… god damn.
“i never said that, i just don’t want you making a mistake,” he huffed.
aaron was more rough around the edges than his mother, that’s for sure. he didn’t hate him but he was so serious sometimes for no reason. takes part in why he doesn’t talk about this stuff with him. not like he has a father figure to turn to anyway.
“how do you know i’ll make a mistake?” miles felt a bit more defensive now.
“because that’s how it goes—you fall in love, think everything is great, something goes wrong, everything crashes, you move on. it’s a cycle.” he paused before saying this next sentence. “how do you think your ma’s marriage went? think about it.”
miles softed a bit, but he was still a bit irritated. “you didn’t have to go that far.”
he knew that. but it was a perfect example of the worst thing that could have happened. miles sighed, sinking into the couch and turning off the tv. there was tension, and it filled the silence.
“you’re saying i shouldn’t be in love? it’s that bad to like someone?” he kept his eyes on the ceiling.
aaron sighed, finding a better approach to it. “be in love all you want. tell her all about you. your hobbies, what you like. you know how closed off you are, man.” he paused, “just… don’t tell her too much. don’t make a stupid mistake.”
“…alright.”
present day .
miles walked through the apartment door, looking the same as normal. but rio sensed something was off. “qué pasó?”
“nothing. hi, ma.” he kissed her forehead before walking off down the hallway. he didn’t really act like this. his mom could always tell the difference.
“how are you and your little girlfriend doing?” he chucked lightly, trying to make light.
“oh, uh… we broke up.” there was a long silence, “like, today.”
rio was not entirely surprised, but she couldn’t help but ask why. miles shrugged, not facing her.
“just because.”
@ MAYEARIES ‘24
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