Aphie

You can't bring yourself to laugh. You know Colt's job as a stuntman can sometimes be dangerous, even with the innumerable safety precautions and medics on set. Even after he recovered from his accident, you still can’t help it, getting worried.

He softens. “Hey,” he murmurs, catching your arm in his hand and grabbing your attention. “Hey, hey. What's wrong?”

You drop the tongs on the tray and look down at your feet, sighing. “Nothing.”

“Not nothing.” His thumb brushes against the inside of your elbow, trying to ground you. He opens his arms then shrugs, relaxed. “I’m fine. See? I’m sturdy as a horse.”

You trace his jean-clad thigh absentmindedly. “Horses also get sick easily. And spooked.”

Colt sighs, grabbing your hands. “Baby.”

“Colt.”

He lowers his voice—no longer that spunky, bold stuntman Colt, but your Colt, the one who quietly brings you snacks and holds you close in bed. “You don't have to worry so much about me. Okay?” He brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “Sturdy as a horse. And I mean it. I’m not gonna get hurt like that again.”

There's a particular sweetness to him this time, and it makes your heart hurt. “I can't not worry. It's my job. And you…you're so casual about it.”

He cracks a smile. “Gotta be.”

But you frown, and all he wants is to cheer you up and see you happy. God knows he’d do anything to see you smile or ease up in relief. The scrapes down his back and shoulders are nothing to him at the moment, and might be nothing for the rest of the night.

“How about this,” he offers, pulling you closer to him, “We get dinner from catering, or the burger joint down the street, and do some donuts in my truck, and get cake from the pastry place you like? And then we’ll cuddle, all night, maybe until morning, and miss our call time…”

As he speaks, he feels you loosen up at the prospect of food and an impromptu date. Your shoulders relax and Colt kisses your head. He feels lighter now that you are, and thanks the universe that you’re smiling now, too.

“Sure. Okay.” You fall into his shoulder—the uninjured one—and he turns his head to kiss your temple. You feel his hand rub at your back, swiping up and down between your shoulder blades.

“Patch me up first, maybe?” Colt laughs.

You pull away, grabbing the tongs and a fresh cotton ball with it. “So demanding.”

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ you hid behind a nickname that no one had known you by since high school, lars put in his whole name and an age. that was what got your attention as soon as you saw his profile under the "online singles!"

his introduction wasn't the creepy and pervy one you had seen in other profiles. under the "what you're looking for" prompt, he had simply written a "someone to talk to," and under his hobbies, he only had two listed: chopping wood and going to church.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ after seeing his username go online for a few days, you finally decided to send him a message. worst case scenario, he ends up being a bit creepy as well, and you block him. your first message was simple and casual, just a "hiiii :)" that got sent and left on read in just two seconds. and he left you on read for so long that you thought that he'd never reply, but he did.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ a simple conversation sparked out of that. a spark that turned into your daily chat, where you'd usually vent about your day and he'd answer small but meaningful platitudes, or where you'd end up asking him how church went and he'd tell you the topics of that sunday's sermon. you weren't even fully religious, but you found yourself warming up every time that he told you about his favorite part in service.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ you liked lars. in a "when something weird happens to me, he's the first person I want to tell" kind of way. he was charming, he was gentle even through texts. he apologized whenever he thought that what he said was wrong, and when you reassured him, he apologized again. and you wanted him to like you, too, even without having seen his face.

it was a great day. you had woken up early, you liked your outfit and your makeup for that day. in fewer words, you felt pretty. so you decided to send him a selfie. a simple picture of your face and part of the upper half of your outfit, captioned with a simple "hi ♡"

then he didn't reply. he saw the picture and it was radio silent for hours. then those hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and so on. you were absolutely devastated.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ lars didn't mean to ghost you. the second his eyes met yours, his face flushed so hard he felt like he was on fire, and he had to fumble to close the tab before dropping his face in his hands.

the sight of you, your actual face, made everything feel more real. you were an actual person, a person who spent her days speaking to him. those lips that he had barely glanced to had formed smiles thanks to the things he said, those eyes had spent days reading the things he had to share, things he hadn't deemed important.

he had no idea what to say, so he decided to give it a few hours. then he couldn't find the right words, so he spent days staring at the picture for seconds before he had to blink and focus on something else.

after a week, responding seemed worse than anything else. so he just didn't do it.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ the memory lingered in the back of your mind, even six months later. you didn't want to dwell much on it because, well, it was online dating. that kind of thing never worked, no matter how charming larslindstrom27 could be. and he was charming. you could still make yourself smile at the memory of his awkward messages if your mind drifted back far enough.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ you weren't planning to move. it's just that the company you worked at was starting a new branch in a small town in minnesota, and, well, you were a sucker for small towns. plus, they paid all the expenses and would upgrade your pay.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ you moved into a small house in town. it was across from a married couple, gus and karin. in your first week there, the first one you met was karin, who waddled outside the house to pick up her mail just as you were about to leave for work. the two of you exchanged names and greetings for a few days before she invited you for dinner to welcome you to town, as she said. you accepted without much thought. she was a nice lady. It would've felt wrong to say no.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ the day of the dinner, you brought a tupperware of baked cookies and knocked on her front door, which was opened just seconds later. "oh, hi! the stew is almost done. come in, come in." the warm voice of karin said immediately, her hand gesturing for you to come inside before closing the door behind you.

"thanks for inviting me, I brought cookies." you said, lifting the tupperware for her to see.

"oh, that's lovely! thank you! I'll bring them out for dessert." she said, taking the tupperware from you with gentle hands. "I think my brother-in-law will be joining us. I hope you don't mind. he's a sweetheart."

"that's okay. the more the merrier, right?"

this got a chuckle out of karin, and she nodded before gesturing to the dining table. "go, take a seat."

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ the moment that gus opened the back door for lars, he could hear the sound of karin chatting with someone in one of the other rooms. the two voices filled the house with mindless conversation, talking about karin's baby and how the pregnancy was treating her.

"they've been like this for a while." gus told him, stepping aside so lars could come in.

lars gave him a tight smile that hid his upper lip under his mustache but didn't say anything. he just stepped inside the house and stood there for a few seconds.

he closed and opened his fists rhythmically for a second or two before stepping towards the source of the noise before stopping dead in his tracks.

there it was. the same face that had followed him for months but now in gus and karin's house. the same eyes that he had stared into for days, even if it was merely through a photograph. the same lips that he had been bold enough to trace through a screen just once.

his eyes closed in a harsh blink, and his breathing turned shallow, and before gus could say anything, he was already running out the back door and straight to his garage again.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ after that, lars looked at you through the window in his door. he followed your routine quietly, just to make sure that he wouldn't bump into you in the grocery store.

his blue eyes followed your retreating figure as you walked out of your house, probably to go to the market you visited. but for a second, your eyes went directly towards the window, like you had finally felt the weight of his gaze. lars scrambled back, only feeling calm once his back was pressed against the cold wall.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ you had run out of milk before your mandatory weekly grocery run, which meant that you had to make a quick trip after work just to make sure that you could have your cereal next morning.

you made your way over to the dairy aisle, next to the produce where lars was standing very, very stiffly at your newfound presence.

he tried to make a clean run for it, he really did, but as he stepped back, he managed to stumble on the apples and make some of them fall off.

the noise made you turn your head back only to find lars scrambling to pick up the apples quickly, before you crouched down and started helping him. "you okay?" you asked, looking up, but you didn't find him there. lars was already running through the front doors.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ to make it worse for him, you and karin had become friends. he had to see you cross the street every week, probably to talk to karin over tea and cookies while he was out there wondering when would be the moment that you found out who he was.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ you were sitting in karin's couch, sipping a cup of chamomile tea as she sat across from you, more focused on the cookies than the tea.

"you're single, right?" she suddenly asked, holding a bitten cookie in one hand as she looked at you.

"yeah. why do you ask?" you replied, putting the cup down.

"well…" karin started, shifting in her seat to straighten up. "you know gus has a brother. and I… well, he's too lonely. I just want him to meet someone. and I think that he'd like you and that you would like him."

"so you want to set me up with your brother-in-law?" you clarified, raising your eyebrows.

"a little. I promise that he's a sweetheart. you'll like him." karin immediately rushed to say, causing you to let out a deep sigh.

you stayed silent for a few seconds, absently scratching your eyebrow with your thumb before nodding. "sure. what can I lose?"

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ next friday, you find yourself in a diner. karin hadn't even given you his name in her excitement, she just said: "he has a mustache and looks like a giant teddy bear."

as you sat there on the bar, you were almost sure that he wouldn't show. you had been there for almost thirty minutes, and the milkshake you ordered was almost completely finished. and part of you was wondering if maybe he had already come and gone, because how were you supposed to know which guy with a mustache she was talking about? half of minnesota had mustaches.

you were about to get up and leave when the bell above the door signaled another customer, and as soon as you turned your head, you saw him. the guy with the mustache who looked like a giant teddy bear.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ lars hadn't come in there for a date. he had been sent by karin because she had a craving for the waffles that this place made, so now he was standing in the entrance of the diner, his fists clenching and unclenching as he prepared himself to order said waffles.

that's when you suddenly appeared in his vision camp.

"you're gus' brother, right?" you asked, your hands hidden in your pockets as you looked at him.

his wires malfunctioned for a second, and he blinked harshly once, then twice, his heart immediately rushing as his eyes looked at your face once before moving away.

then, he tried to walk past you. "sorry, I have to-" he said, heading towards the register instead.

you watched him step back and let out a deep sigh, your shoulders slumping as the pretended confidence slipped away from your shoulders as he walked away. "cool." you muttered.

you lingered in the same place you were standing in for a few seconds, another deep sigh leaving your lips before you went back to your milkshake.

meanwhile, lars, he was a mess. he didn’t know what to do. he could mend his mistakes, but what if while doing that, he messed up again, or what if he said something even worse? what if this would make you hate him properly?

he blinked harshly and kept his eyes shut closed for a few seconds before he found the strength in some part of his soul and walked towards you again.

he didn't sit next to you, he stood by your side, finding the words somewhere in his chest before he cleared his throat to get your attention. "you looked very pretty. in your picture." he said.

you, who had turned your head to look at him, frowned as you tried to understand what he was talking about before your mind finally clicked. "lars?" you said, your voice sounding more hesitant than anything.

i suppose this happens a little before your full recovery, because Grace is still sensitive to ambient temperature and he's in a survival, hypervigilant mode despite things having gotten better for the two of you.

he'd be so frightened to not find you next to him :( his thoughts immediately drift to a worst case scenario where you probably got sick through the night and the Eridian doctors took you away to be monitored away from him. he's scared that you maybe had an accident in the house in some way and he's too late to help. just like. everything that could go wrong. Grace gets up and looks for you in the house — tears are clouding his eyes and he starts yelling your name. he rushes down the steps, barefoot with just the blanket over him and runs to the shore, half sobbing and screaming; frantically looking around. he's blinking hard to adjust to the darkness and then finally, finally, he sees you. you're alive. you're in the middle of the articial ocean, but you're alive.

Grace pleads, with his hoarse voice, for you to come back, and when you do, he drops everything to embrace you, not caring that you're drenching him. he doesn't even speak after the preliminary "don't do that again" that he says into your wet hair. he just takes you home, where he can see you. he only allows you to leave his sight so you can clean up and come back to him; still a bit cold to the touch, but very much present.

The journey to work was what could only be described as suboptimal; dark, moody clouds looming over-head — a wave of rainfall threatening to break at any second, damning your clothes and body temperature for the rest of the day. The universe seemed to acknowledge your silent pleas, kindly holding off on the rain until you were just about to turn the corner toward the school's grounds. 

However, even with the all-powerful universe on your side, it was simply no match for the antics of a certain blonde-haired science teacher. Ryland Grace. 'Jumped-straight-outta-the-pages-of-a-romance-novel Ryland Grace' as you liked to call him; a personal, private nickname you'd mustered up along the way.

He stood under the shelter of the canopy, rain cascading down the edge like a waterfall, his work clothes covered by an obnoxiously-yellow raincoat that only he could make look natural — like it wasn't even draped over his shoulders in the first place, gaze focused on the quickly puddling rain just in front of him. 

Why was he just standing outside in the cold? Even further, why was he almost guarding the entrance to— oh.

The realisation dawned on you at once, prompting you to take a few steps backwards, strategically retracing your previous steps to land yourself out-of-vision in case he looked up. A small squeak slipped from your lips, soft hands coming press against your face, a pleasantly daunting feeling swirling in your stomach. 

The rain only grew heavier the longer you hid, and as much as you wanted to steer clear of the man who'd positively plagued every fibre of your being since you got the job — it wasn't worth catching a cold over, especially when his mere presence seemed to ignite that warm, fuzzy feeling across your body, casting down on your skin like a summer's glow. 

"Okay." You whispered to yourself in defeat, hands dropping to your sides with purpose. "I can do this. I'm totally fine. Yep. Gonna' start walking any second now." You continued, reassuringly giving your limbs a quick wiggle in preparation, attempting to dust off the persistent awkwardness stretching throughout your body. Remarkably, you found the strength within you to continue.

Entering the grounds, you felt weirdly confident after the pep-talk, strutting round the corner with a sense of purpose. Too bad the unforeseen puddle ruined the moment, soaking your shoe in all its unpleasant glory; instantly dimming whatever spark you had going, setting the mood for the rest of the day.

The splash snapped Ryland from his trance, rearing his head upwards to find the source of the noise, baby blue eyes falling on you. He smiled for a moment, as if he'd been waiting hours to catch a glimpse of you, but the expression quickly turned sour — a pitiful look washing over his face, eyes trailing down to your right shoe, still firmly planted inside the puddle. 

"Bad morning, huh?" He joked in a light-hearted manner, watching with a tilted head as you removed your foot from the puddle; wiggling it momentarily in a pathetic attempt to dry it out, deciding to just continue on in your wake like nothing had even happened. Though, the light squelching proved a cruel reminder every step you took. 

"Yep." You muttered in response, letting out a large exhale once you finally stood in front of him — looking over the stubble peppered across his jaw and chin, glasses slipping down his nose; the lenses slightly steamed at the bottom, deriving from the warmth of his face fighting the winter weather, small droplets of rain spotted across the glass. 

He only hummed in response, nodding slowly before a faint smile begun tugging at the corners of his lips; those icy blue eyes peering down at you with mischief. Despite the body of cold water occupying your shoe, you grew significantly warmer, becoming acutely aware of your heart rate quickening with each thump. 

"First, you step in a puddle and then…you have to talk to me. Just awful, isn't it?" He teased, bringing a diner-style takeaway cup of coffee to his lips; never once breaking eye-contact while his lips gently pursed around the gap in the lid, tilting his head back in order to free the liquid from its confines. 

Panicked, you averted your gaze — resisting the urge to watch his adam's apple bob up and down in his throat as he swallowed, snapping your head downward in a lack of faith, eyes landing on his other hand cradled close to his chest; long fingers comfortably clasped around another coffee cup. 

You furrowed your brows, glancing back up at him. "Did you…have a bad night or something?" A breathy chuckle left your lips, quickly trying to steer the conversation away from whatever road he was planning to take it down.

"No. It's for you." He soothed with an extended hand, motioning the cup in your direction. "Admittedly, I was waiting you out. Figured I'd at least let you know that I come in peace." 

It fell silent after that, both your ears filled with the distant sound of the persistent rain fading away; swept up in a comfortable since whilst you processed his gesture, a slow and careful hand raising upward to feel the cup beneath your fingertips. The right words failed you, brain scrambling to pick up the pieces of your own awkwardness, the last fragments scattered along the concrete-floor like a puzzle piece waiting to be put together.

In a way it was a sort of bittersweet moment, realising that Ryland Grace was exactly who you thought he was; a sweet, attentive, caring soul just floating through his own life, not even realising the half of his true impact. Along the way, you figured the ideal picture of him that you'd engrained in your head couldn't be all true — chalking it up to just your own admiration, mind desperately clutching at straws of what he could be like. 

But, with the coffee cup in-hand. You realised he was exactly who you thought he was. 

"Uh oh, you have that look on your face." He declared like it was a national emergency. 

"What— what look?" The defensiveness came over you immediately, in a way that was far too obvious; thoughts of Ryland Grace swirling through your mind, quick to deflect whatever he thought he'd caught onto — paranoid that somehow he saw straight through your exterior.

"You have a look you get before you scurry away. Your face changes." 

Oh no.

Deciding to ignore his observation, you mustered up the last of your courage to thank him; the words of your gratitude coming out through an awkward laugh, mentally cursing yourself for your brain's abnormal functioning. The urgency to 'scurry' as he'd called it bubbled deep beneath your skin, every inch of your body itching to do exactly that — to run away.

"Well, thanks for the coffee." You breathed out urgently, the words coming out all too much like the end of the conversation; preparing to bid him a quick and short farewell.

The smirk on his face inevitably grew, reading you like a book as your body seemed to jitter; ready to take off sprinting at any second now, even with the puddle still settling in one of your shoes. In the moment, you hypothesized that you could beat any professional runner at their own sport, as long as Ryland was situated behind you somewhere — maybe you'd even break a world record running from him, running from your own admiration. 

"I uh— I have to get going. I have some business to attend to in the… in my classroom." Your body was already moving as you spoke, with Ryland quickly jogging just behind you in order to catch up; his laughter booming just behind you.

"Oh, yeah? What business? We don't start for another 20 minutes." 

"You know— teacher things." You retorted, letting out a small whine at the feeling of the dampness quickly seeping into your foot the more steps you took; as if you were granted the mystical power of walking on water in the most unpleasant way imaginable. The squeak was embarrassing too. 

"Stupid shoe." You muttered quietly to yourself, though nothing seemed to slip past Ryland — especially when it came to you. 

"Hold on to me."

"What?" 

You squeaked as a pair of large, strong hands gripped you from behind; gently wrestling you into his grip, all of a sudden sweeping the floor from beneath your feet. In momentary panic, one of your hands flew to grab ahold of his arm — squeezing your fingers around the upper limb, conveniently finding yourself gripping his bicep through the material of his coat. 

Ryland made a noise of satisfaction, a noise you were sure would replay in your head for the rest of the day as he whisked you into the building. He ignored your quick and persistent protests, laughing to himself as he navigated his way toward the classroom. A couple of the teachers dotted around the corridors gave you a weird look, but neither of you really seemed to care. Too caught up in your own little world as he settled you back on solid ground, feet planting against the floor of your classroom. 

"If I were you, I'd hang up the shoe to dry. Should be fine by the end of first period." Ryland quickly dusted himself down, attempting to stretch over the creases of his clothing from the physical activity — and your wriggling against him. "Well. I'll let you take care of your business." 

"Okay." Was all you managed to say, still feeling the imprint of his hands on you; a funny feeling caught up in the back of your throat. "Thank you, Ryland. For the um…" You held your coffee cup up with a smile, the object luckily unscathed by the sudden encounter, "And the…drop-off?" 

He didn't say anything for a moment, standing there stationary in the middle of your classroom. The smile that always seemed to remain on his face shone brighter, a light pink blush creeping across his cheeks as he stared back at you — like he was waiting for you to realise something.

"What?" The image of him smiling back at you provoked your own smile, speaking lightly out-of-breath and in confusion. "Do I— Do I have something on my face?" You panicked, quickly bringing your sleeve up to rub uncomfortably against the skin of your cheeks.

"No, no. It's nothing. Just don't think I've heard you say my name before." 

Your panic intensified, now silently wishing that you really did have something on your face instead of what he'd just picked up on — a daunting feeling crawling around in your stomach. It was hard to stay still, constantly fidgeting as you walked your way toward the classroom door; pulling it open gently for him to exit as you cleared your throat. 

He caught up to you quickly, positioning himself on the other side of the door. His frame slightly sloped against the doorway, effectively blocking you from shutting it just yet. Clearly, he hadn't derived enough satisfaction from teasing you all morning — but in contrast, you were pretty sure you'd had enough of his teasing to last a lifetime. 

"I'll see you later?" He sung playfully, still not budging from the doorway.

"Yep. Yep. Shutting the door now." It came out like a warning, slowly closing the door as much as his body would allow; your lips pressed together in a firm line. 

"Ouch, so cold to me." He tutted, bringing a hand up to rest against his heart like you'd wounded him.

The smile found its way back onto your face, playfully rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him. "Bye Ryland." You mused, now pushing the door against his shoulder.

He let out a satisfied sigh, mirroring your own smile before turning on his heels and walking off in the other direction — leaving you all alone.

Alone with the coffee cup still lingering between your fingers, alone with the butterflies in your stomach, alone with your own mind that still craved his presence despite the persistent urge to avoid him. 

Ryland Grace had weaselled his way in. And he wasn't leaving any time soon.