Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
"I wasn't born a villain. I was raised to be one."
Preview: MC was tasked to work with the Farspace Fleet on one of her missions. Whilst meeting the team, she was introduced to the Caleb's apprised liutenant, y/n. Austere, placid and stalwart. An acute example for a stellar member of the fleet but MC's sixth sense waivered. Her inner voice, paltry but clear, signalled y/n was more than what meets the eyes. Even if Caleb trusts her with his life. What would MC do? Go against the tide and warn Caleb of her doubt? Or to push through her instincts and work towards a common goal for the mission?
Warnings: Caleb x nonmc!, this part focuses on Caleb's narrative, Torring Chip's involvement?, slight fluff, domestic Caleb who cares a lot about y/n.
Author's Notes: This part focuses a bit more on the dynamic of Caleb and nonmc! so we get to sit into loverboy's head space for this part. Although MC is the main character for this piece, I am sure a lot of you would like to know how y/n managed to bag the Colonel or vice versa, so henceforth the birth of this piece.
All dividers are from @chrisssiren
Part 1 / Part 2
Mechanical beeps occupied the background for the cold sterile room. A subtle grip on his chin got the Colonel snapping his eyes opened out of pure muscle memory for survival. "You're awake." The voice came from his bedside, his girlfriend's upper torso in a bent manner against the railing by his bed, as if she was trying to lean in towards him. Seeing how Caleb was starting to analyze the situation, y/n's eyes dropped and her figure retreated.
Caleb's hand---although barely able to lift---shifted over the sheets to try to stop her from moving away. The pain reacted quicker, shot up his arm like static and he stopped, enduring the quiet strain of his muscle. Looking straight upwards, the white ceilings beckoned at him. Fluorescent panels installed flush against the surface, glowing with a color that is not enough for one to call it natural lighting. His body embodied a deep, dragging ache that even the world's most comfortable bed could not satisfy his spine. Recovery ward, he concluded for himself. But none of the settings in the room screamed Fleet standard.
"Don't." He then uttered, tongue heavy in his mouth as words rolled off in an uncanny manner, as if he was learning to speak all over again. Y/n's eyes caught his, necessarily stoic for her own reasons. "Don't leave me." His words, reserved vulnerability only for y/n.
Her head tilted, just the slightest and Caleb could tell she was debating her next move. Or perhaps, next line of sentence. "What were you thinking going into that fight without backup?" She panned, eyes narrowed as she demanded for an answer from him. His fingers clawed at the sheets, being questioned yet again, a privilege for her. "You could've died." And she straightened her body, taking half of a step away from the bed to settle herself into the wooden chair beside his bed.
Caleb's hand relaxed and he tucked it under his blanket, blinking his eyes just two more times to regain more consciousness. The fall must have been pretty bad for it caused a ringing to be heard coming from the slot where his Torring Chip was supposed to be. "The Wanderer's attacks were too sudden and a metropolis is not exactly an ideal spot to hold back until we can get support." He fought back. Despite being in a bed, the Colonel himself does not hold back on rank pulling. "And you should know that better than anyone else."
"I do." She was quick to bite, an impertinent trait of hers that he had came to appreciate. It was what sometimes keeps his strategies strategic and not just for the sake of a winning round to suffice the higherups. "But you should also know that your Torring Chip does not allow you to utilise your evol to its full potential." Her orbs meet his, finality within her gaze.
Caleb sighed, nebulic eyes softening at her retort. There is no use of fighting over spilled milk. He cared about the civillians, she cared about him. That pretty much sums up to why Caleb needed someone who is not the embodiment of altruism at times.
That too, reminded Caleb of why he fell in love with her from the start. Y/n was simple, almost too simple to be passed as another average soldier. Reading her file was nothing immaculate; strong combative skills, great visual learner, possesses good stamina and discipline. The basic package for a soldier is fulfilled. But Caleb remembered otherwise.
It was night, 0340. Time for another stroll for the already frustrated Colonel Caleb. If he got himself cooped up any longer within the four walls of his office he would have risked the Toring Chip giving him a stroke. The long hallway stretched along the aphotic darkness, boots echoed against empty walkways. Till he spotted a lit room at the end of the corridor. Training deck was supposed to be cleared by the end of the day. Like a moth drawn to a flame, the colonel decided to investigate it. Conscience reminding him of a stern punishment reserved for whomever that had forgotten to turn off the lights.
Hard thuds were heard as he got closer, huffing and panting ensued. Someone was either having sex or was working out in the empty room, his mind wondered. He made himself known; chest up and breath steady, ready to give a good scolding to release his tension till he caught sight of her. The same girl from the file which he had deemed unimpressive just a couple of hours back. There she stood now, in the middle of an empty deck with her back facing him.
She did not seemed to notice him, but the slight pause in her continuous jabs suggested otherwise for a split second. But Caleb paid no extra attention to it. Her fists drove forward again and the mannequin jerked backwards with a slight creak at its hinges. The strikes kept going, at the same angle and same force, even at the speed Caleb could have easily missed if he was not a well-trained soldier. It was like she had mapped out the mannequin and gave it a mental bullseye that she is only allowed to drill her fists into.
Fascinated at the ordinary looking y/n, Caleb leaned against the door frame and silently watched her. Y/n's physique was not bulky, but far from slim either. She certainly falls within a healthy category but with curves and lines that carries intentions. The kind where the younger generations of soldiers would call a 'sleeper build'. Her back however had two scars, slashes deep enough that cuts through soft tissue and muscle, lined horizontally on both sides of her scapula. If one were to believe in myths, her scars may just resemble wings carved out of an angel.
Another hit with her core held tight, the mannequin was defeated like a man in the midst of receiving a knockout. It tumbled backwards and hit the ground with a loud thump. Yet, she was barely wheezing, breath undulating steadily like her strikes had only been a walk in the park. It was the calmness of hers that striked him.
One of Caleb's brows lifted, he had seen lots of soldiers throughout training and till deployment. From frontliners to special task forces. He had seen men who fought to keep their ego, men who fought to win, men who fought to prove something. But nothing came as close to y/n's punches. It carried strength, emotion, purpose. Y/n hits like it is the last resort for her own survival. And that prompted something in the colonel's mind. Was she purely dedicated? Or was it more than that?
Most people would have relaxed their stance once their workout sessions had ended but she stayed grounded, stance ready, arms up and guarded and fingers curled. As if she was expecting for the fallen mannequin to fight back. As if stillness meant danger to her.
Caleb pushed himself off of the doorframe, eyes still trained on her. The epoxy covered floors didn't squeak, but something---maybe barely a gust of wind, or with pure instincts---made her snapped her head over her shoulders.
Both of their eyes met, purplish orbs studying hers. She was not alerted, pupils remained static like she is aware of his presence. It sent a slight shiver down the Colonel's spine. Caleb chose to break the silence, arms now placed behind his back to show authority. "You know it's past lights out right cadet?"
Y/n's eyes shifted to the clock hung at one end of the wall, assessing the time and meets his eyes again. "Yes sir. I am aware." She voiced acknowledgement, not even close to being apologetic.
Caleb steps into the vicinity of the training deck, carpet beneath his weight. "Lights out means rest." He tilted his head towards the fallen mannequin to prove his point. "Not training overtime to destroy Fleet's properties." A lilt of humour in his tone.
"I do rest." She paused for a second, exhaling slowly. "When I do feel like it."
It almost made Caleb smirked. Almost. Up close, he noticed more of her features, faint bruises and scabs against her knuckles that are in various healing stages. The tiny cuts she probably obtained through daily trainings and the roughness of skin that had been split and reformed through ages long before she had joined the Fleet. Not a raw recruit's hands.
She probably noticed the staring too and for one moment, a flash of embarrassment crossed her features and she placed her hands out of his sight, concealing it behind her back. Caleb closed in further, shadows elongated under the hanging spot lights, forming a shade over her smaller figure. It makes him even more intimidating, with his gaze trained downwards onto hers. She barely wavered, her eyes held his with a stubborn determination that reminded him of a certain childhood friend of his. The one he used to have a crush on, till she had made it clear that he is nothing more than a friend to her.
"Why did you joined the Fleet?" His question was meant to prod, to know more of her purpose. With fists that speed and strength, she must have either hailed from a martial arts background or worse, she may be an enemy.
Her eyes shifted, not away, but more like inward. Like he had hit a sensitive spot in her and has managed to see through the tough exterior. "I wanted my revenge." A simple answer. Answered without hesitation. He studied her a moment longer, fists balled tightly and eyes that could burn holes into his legs if they emitted fire. It must have been a very bad trauma.
He stopped, nodded his head and turned, drapes of his uniform waved back at her as he strutted towards the exit. "Try not to break the walls while you're training too."
"Yes sir." And Caleb steps out through the exit frame till the thuds ensued behind him. He turned slightly, peripheral vision catching her back to abusing the mannequin laid on the floor. Merciless. Caleb watched as another land hit the mannequin square in the face. Something stirred in his chest, a feeling known as recognition. She is certainly out of the ordinary. But somehow, a part of him wished that he had asked her about her revenge plan.
Caleb's blossom of love for her was not within the span of a short time. But it was carried through time, chances and erosion. It was slow, patient and irreversible. Their first meet got his radar on her, more than what he prefers but he could not lie, y/n is a walking mystery and she lives in his head rent-free.
Y/n lives in constant routine at the start; reports submitted on time, weapons cleaned more thoroughly than the other recruits, clocked in timings are always an hour early and two hours late. She had always done more than necessary but it was never to be noticed, it was only done for herself. An invisible goal only reserved for herself. Bland days in the Fleet started having colors, observing y/n added colors to the colonel's mundane routine.
Time started to fold forward, like an origami within the hands of a professional. It stacked fast into the months. Their meets frequented, they both exchanged more words---out of necessity of course, but the colonel does not fail to toss in small talk every once in a while. Strategies, tactical predictions, weapon lineups. She had disagreed with him once during a briefing; spoken out loud from the other end of the conference table. "Guerilla teams will be too frayed out, backups would not be able to come in on time if comms are down."
Heads turned, all the men in the room gulped simultaneously as they were awaiting for Caleb's death sentence. All may think it offended him but Caleb studied the map again, her voice repeated in his head. "Right, good observation cadet." For the first time, an army beneath him spoke, and for the first time, Caleb never thought of punishment. Reverence triumphs over ego, his eyes flashed violet as he watched her from his peripheral vision. Legs crossed, eyes already staring through his skull with such aplomb that it is hard to ignore.
With the colonel's approval, her vocation for her own strategy landed the Fleet a great win for the mission. From then on, she was invited in for every strategy planning, even if she was not directly involved in the mission. There starts the birth of trust yielded between the two of them.
The realisation did not come during battle, it never came during a life-or-death mission. It swept by during a quiet and slow night. It was the night before a mission, where last checkups matter. The hangar housed the jet planes that would be used for lift off tomorrow. Most of the lights had dimmed, the hangar stood tall within the grounds of the Fleet, metal creaking into the distant night.
Caleb sat on the floor, scrolling through the holographic screen displayed in front of him. Unending rows of scrawled words lined his screen, reports awaiting for his approval for the next batch of eligible Fleet cadets. Y/N sat cross-legged opposite him, leaning against the wheel of the jet comfortably as she calibrated the rifle in her arm, cocking the bolt handle to check on its sturdiness. The moonlight was probably a paid actor, casting a silver glow against the side of her face. She looked deeply focused; with brows closely knitted and hair tied up messily to get it out of her face.
Caleb did not asked for her presence, she had simply asked to join. By saying that he could use some help with the weapon calibrations and without even awaiting for his approval, she welcomed herself and started getting to work. The silence between them was comfortable, too comfortable that it made Caleb wondered why he had never detested her. "Why are you here, y/n?" The use of her name made her stopped her actions, her eyes meeting his when his holographic screen turns off.
Underneath the gentle touch of the moonlight, her gaze was softer. It shifted something in Caleb's chest. He realised suddenly, that he had predicted her response. Like how her chest would move slower when she is trying to answer an unexpected question. Like how her tone shifts when she finds something amusing but does very well at hiding it. Like how he can tell the difference in her silence whether she was thinking or was trying to banter with witty answers.
"I couldn't sleep." She is bolder now, at least he noticed. The drop of her gaze suggested to him the matter causing her insomnia. Earlier, she had signed the papers for the implantation of the Toring Chip. It was a pledge to the Fleet, for one to submit fully to the control of the Fleet. She signed it right under his nose, beneath his puzzled gaze. For the Toring Chip is only for the ones with evol, and with her signing up for one, it would only cause more harm than good.
Caleb perhaps should have kept his mouth shut, to be fair to all his men. Not at this moment though, for his mouth thinks otherwise. "You didn't have to go through with the Toring." She mattered. More than what he had thought to be. "It will cause you more damage."
"I know." The same cold, determined tone comes through. The brief was given, an option was presented to her. Risks were laid out to her in plain sight---in the middle of a giant, echoing hall, in front of the whole batch of cadets whom are well-equipped with their evol. Yes, y/n was the only one who past the final test to be amongst the higher tiers. Despite presented with more harm then good, y/n still signed it without any hesitation. "And you're telling me this because...?" The trailing off of her voice marks the hesitation she felt towards his remark.
Tongue tied, the colonel could only hold his gaze, amethyst orbs catching her reflection well. His inner monologue should have alarmed him, should have told him the feelings he had harboured for her. He held on a bit longer, let his heart beat one more time louder. And he exhaled. "Because you don't have to prove anything else." Another short, shuddering breath under his skin. "As I think you are already better than everyone else."
Her actions halted instantly. The rifle in her hand now an accessory as her eyes shot up immediately to look at him. Eyelids peeled back slightly to reveal her shock, most likely at his statement. Caleb felt it too, the guilt seeping in over what he had said. So, he chose to play it cool. He stood, brushing imaginary dust off of his shoulder and he tried to hide the heat in his cheeks with the usage of shadows casted by the roofs. "It's late, we should---"
"All my life." She started and Caleb lowered his gaze towards her hands, realising her knuckles were white while pressed tightly against the barrel of the rifle. "I've never seen myself to be good enough." Y/n's fingers pressed further against the gun till Caleb approached her, getting down onto one of his knees. The colonel now kneeled in front of her, watching her hair shielding her face as she revealed a fraction of her invulnerability to him. He could feel his heart cracking. The act of accepting the Toring Chip was all for validation. It was all because she wanted to be 'good enough'.
And for once, Caleb engulfed her into his arms and y/n broke down in his arms. No more words were exchanged for the night. Caleb did not find the need to question her background nor require to know more about her. It was also when he realised that he had loved her like gravity. Inevitable, quietly absolute. The next round their eyes met, y/n leaned up, pressing her soft lips against his and the rest is history.
She sighed, eyes closing and face contorting slightly, a side effect of the Chip itself. Ignoring the pain, Caleb pushed himself off of the bed to reach for her, huge hands enveloping her forearm and he tugged her over. The rails of the bed pushed down with what strength he could muster to bring y/n to his side. "Deep breaths. You know the Torring effect is going to kick in if you continue being so emotional." He reminded her, tone soft and almost comforting.
They sat, in an awkward manner where her legs were hung by the side of the bed and her head on his chest, hearing the sound of his heart beating. Caleb ran his hand absentmindedly through the strands of her hair while waiting for the effects of the Chip to wear off. "I'm fine." She spoke, voice still but simmered with anger.
"I know you are." Caleb gave himself a small smile, watching her laid in his arms like a puppy that got wounded. It was endearing despite the current circumstances. "But it does not stop me from caring." Caleb gave out a light chuckle, the slight vibrations of his chest shifted her head, eyes now glaring up towards him.
Y/n pushed herself off of him and ran her fingers through her hair. Lavender. She used the shampoo he had bought for her afterall. Tucking her hair behind her ear, Caleb could spot the microscopic slit that peeked out from her lobe. The spot where the Chip was implanted. She was not recommended for it, for the Chip was made to enhance those with Evol. For a mere mundane like her, Caleb had begged her not to do it for it would bring her more harm than good.
Yet, if stubborn-ness is a human, that would be y/n. She did it to avoid any mistreatment. Being in the upper ranks without any Evol is already provoking discussion from others, let alone being a woman in this organisation. She did it to avoid any sparks of debate, she did it to aid the image of the Fleet. That she is afterall loyal to the Fleet and had nothing to prove otherwise.
A small reverie was enough for Caleb to be distracted till a cup of water was held up in front of his face. "Take this." Y/n instructed, Caleb followed. He watched as she held onto his clipboard, reading through the graphs and charts while the beep continued in the background and decided to make some small talk.
"What happened back there?" And he let his eyes wander, occupational disease kicking in because of the foreign setting.
"Your Torring Chip flared the signal and when I arrived, you were knocked out cold." She explained, eyes still trained on the report. The colonel hummed in return. Eyeing her outfit, she had switched into something more comfortable, the daily Fleet uniform, black slacks and her trusty claymore tucked into her boots.
Raising an eyebrow, Caleb joked. "They let you bring weapons into a hospital now?" And she looked up from the report, lips pressed into a thin line.
For a fraction, she hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second. "I informed them another attack could happen and that having my weapon on me would guarantee them safety." And her face is back to the report of his. What could be so interesting for that report? The explanation fit. Mostly. If only he remembered properly that if a Wanderer of that size emerged again, claymore would be just as useless as a decor as anything else within the vicinity.
Speaking of decor, the room lacked it. Usual hospitals would at least have plants within the room to promote circulation of air. Windows even. This room lacked both. He lets his vision adjust more to the surroundings. Small details are starting to bother him, hospitals are supposed to smell of antiseptic and distilled alcohol. The air smelled wrong. Other than the faint Lavender scent coming from her hair, it smelled...cold. Sterile in a way that felt processed.
His eyes caught sight of the heart rate monitor. The interface displaying a muted blue background with his heart rhythm displayed in peaks and troughs. Not Fleet standard but Caleb learned a thing or two about medical knowledge during his emergency rescue missions for him to know that no medical equipments had spikes in statistics tabulated for heartbeats. In fact, it almost seemed like his brain waves were being studied. "Which hospital are we in?" He simply asked.
"Linkon Field General near Bloomshore." Her response was immediate, glancing upwards. Moving closer, she initiated the touch this time, hand smoothened over his and giving him a soft squeeze. Her palm was cold to the touch but the surrounding is too warm to justify that. "It's a new branch by Akso." Voluntary justification from her end too.
No nurses were in sight, no footsteps shuffled outside of the hallway, a hospital is never this quiet. Especially for a new hospital that would usually grant the new buzz for a big city like Linkon. This place should have been swarmed by Bloomshore residents given the lack of hospitals within the district, let alone clinics. "How long was I out?" Caleb followed up, eyes now searching her face involuntarily --- to sense concern, wariness, relief.
"Two days." A precise answer from her, but no emotions carried from it. She was laying facts out like a script memorised. And the ringing at the back of his head hits him like a truck. Unbidden, unwelcomed memories surfaced. Screams, arms outstretched, tears flowing down cheeks of a child while Caleb could still feel the tight grip that tugged against his arms. He winced, so hard that it caught y/n's attention.
She was quick, report down by the movable side table and she positioned right beside him, body bent slightly and hair formed like a curtain beside him. "What's wrong?" Not panicking, not worrying, but focused. As if waiting for a sign. But Caleb shook his head, confused as to why he had a sudden feeling of deja vu. What was it about again?
Silence stretched, the air growing thin as the machine continued its soft, precise ticking. Prodding Caleb's mind with a memory he could not seem to grasp. Limn figures and vague scenarios all taking part in a same location. At this point, the colonel does not envision it, his bones felt it. The feeling of a memory that was forcefully locked away perhaps by the power of the Torring Chip. Yet his body beckoned him for the truth, slamming against the doors of his soul, begging him to remember. "Y/n, if I asked to leave now, can you handle the discharge documents for me?"
Her eyes meet his, he did not. She smiled, the type that does not reach her eyes. The same smile that she had held whenever she shows pity to a dying man on the battlefield. He knew that smile of hers too well. "You're not fully cleared to be discharged yet." Her hand settled onto his broad shoulder, rubbing lightly to calm him and she snakes her palm up, evoking uncalled goosebumps. A fear reaction to her touch that Caleb had picked up immediately. Her palm came to a stop at the back of his neck and she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple and she whispered. "Stay here, you're safe here."
Safe. The word does not sound right when it came from her at this moment. The one person he trusted the most right now is like a wolf bearing a sheep's skin. His body rejected her advances, her words, her gazes. But his heart yearned for it, wanted it and had always gravitated to it.
The soft sizzle happened, the space that held his Torring Chip emitted a short burst of frequency and Caleb falls back against the pillow. A low groan of delayed agony came from him and out he went.
"Not now." Y/n stood, hands lingered against the nape of his neck, savouring the bits of warmth he still had from all of the grinding he had to form in his head a while ago. Sighing, she planted another kiss this time by the side of his lips and she watched him for a short moment. A girlfriend mourning over her boyfriend being bound to the bed for two days is what she displayed only if there was a watching crowd. "I'll see you soon, Caleb."
Turning on her heels, she stepped out of the room swiftly. The heavy doors slid opened with a silent motion, and her boots meet metal flooring. Even if Caleb wants to leave, handles on the doors were not an option, a purposely flawed design built specifically for people to enter and were never meant to leave.
"I wasn't born a villain. I was raised to be one."
Preview: MC was tasked to work with the Farspace Fleet on one of her missions. Whilst meeting the team, she was introduced to the Caleb's apprised liutenant, y/n. Austere, placid and stalwart. An acute example for a stellar member of the fleet but MC's sixth sense waivered. Her inner voice, paltry but clear, signalled y/n was more than what meets the eyes. Even if Caleb trusts her with his life. What would MC do? Go against the tide and warn Caleb of her doubt? Or to push through her instincts and work towards a common goal for the mission?
Warnings: Caleb x nonmc!, Xavier x MC!, blood curdling angst, story is written in MC's pov so I will use 'her' pronouns, usage of her for y/n too, MC is an unreliable narrator---may lean to a lot of self doubt and overthinking. A bit of a long read (be ready to indulge).
Author's Notes: This is an experimental piece for me. The idea came about when I was driving home and jamming to some badass music. Hope that it soothes some of your angsty grinding gears as I will be going full steam for this angst piece :) No more naise author role! Lemme know if you would like to be tagged!
All dividers are from @chrisssiren
į“¾įµŹ³įµ Ā¹ / Next Part
Days had past since the last conversation held between MC and y/n and the liutenant has been dispatched to an emergency mission. She got to know about the info from her childhood friend---who seemingly is accustomed to the routine. "So do you guys even call each other during missions?" And Caleb sent a side eye towards her angle, all the more menacing when his height towered over hers.
"She travels through deepspace tunnels and given the nature of protocols during missions, we do not communicate just to make sure that she is fully focused on the mission." The young man took a sip out of his cup, wincing slightly at the slight burn on the tip of his tongue. MC noticed and fished out a straw from the side pockets of her bag and handed it to him, signalling him to sip from the straw. "Thanks."
"What if something happens to her? Would you know how to locate her?" She asked, genuinely curious as to how Caleb is not panicking over his girlfriend's state of being. MC would have panicked if Xavier's location suddenly turned off during the midst of a mission and vice versa. There was once, when Xavier's hunter watch got smashed mid fight and he lost all forms of connection from her. It did not took an hour till an army was already sweeping down the forest for him. It put MC into such a state of fright that Xavier had to constantly update his whereabouts for the next few days just to keep her panic at bay.
Caleb thrusted the straw into the small sipping hole of the cup, footsteps aligning with hers as he continued talking, raising his voice slightly when they are out of the subway and meeting the hustle and bustle of Linkon City. MC suggested for him to come back to the city for a one day trip just so they could both catch up. And with y/n's grace and understanding, here they both are. "That's when this baby shines." He tapped the back of his neck, indicating the Torring Chip that he had. A default Farspace Fleet officer's insignia. "It helps us to locate them when they are in danger." With the gravity of his tone, Caleb means it alerts everyone in the Fleet.
Nodding in acknowledgement, MC sipped onto her drink quietly, silently in awe at the technological advances the Fleet has managed to achieve. Sadly, making the Hunter Association's RnD department staffs looked like laggards. Caleb ranted on, babbling on about presents he should buy y/n until--- ššššššš! Tyres skidded across tar roads, dragging smoke in its wake. The sight of a shadow loomed above them and MC watched as a lorry was flipped above them, already targeted to land on them.
But Caleb was quicker, with the raise of his arm, his evol---presented in rays of electric blue with scattered sparks of crimson red--- stopped the motion of the lorry mid-air, hovering above them like an exhibit in a museum. "Is everyone alright?" His question aimed towards the bystanders. Some ready to scream, some eyes widened and some laid flat on their back as if they had accepted their fate. MC had already stepped forward to identify the issue, seeing a whirlwind forming in the middle of the street in broad sunlight.
"We should evacuate everyone!" She shouted, already retrieving her gun from her garter belt. A powerful wanderer is about to spawn and with it being right in the middle of a busy street, it is a call for disaster. "Everyone go go go! Get to the nearest evacuation point!" Her hunter instincts had kicked in instantaneously, already urging people to safety while she dialed in for backup. But her watch buzzed red and she groaned in frustration. The red triangle would mean that limited teams are around and that dispatched backup from other districts would take a much longer time. "Caleb! Backups going to take a while! We will have to hold the fort!"
The brunette jogged over after he had placed the car onto the pavement, out of harm's way and joined her by her side, eyes narrowing at the sight of the whirlwind bellowing at the crossroad. People had already started scrambling out of their cars to safety, screaming and shouting as they ran. "Let's focus on evacuation first." Caleb ordered, already light on his feet as he ran towards the eye of the storm to create a force field to contain it from doing anymore damage towards its surroundings. "Get everyone out!"
MC ran, urging everyone to get out of the scene as fast as she could, eyes scanning the surroundings in a haste. She heard Caleb shouting something in the background, the gust of strong winds swallowed up his words, incoherent to her ears and a boom went off. It was an explosion so strong that the force field that was containing the formation of a wanderer broke apart. MC flew across a small distance, landing by the curb due to the impact and she groaned in response. The air was filled with dust, gunpowder rushed into the cavity of her lungs.
EVER has been pulling some strings. Probably to create a distraction towards the sole two fighters on the scene. MC blinked multiple times, regaining her vision till she noticed Caleb, already knocked out by the side of the road. Given that he is much closer to the explosion, there is no doubt his wounds may be more severe. "Caleb!" She shouted out, already scrambling onto her feet as the Wanderer presented itself in all of its glory---no thanks to EVER. It stood at a towering 2 meters height, with eyes that glowed blood red and talons that could easily slit one into two separate parts.
The Wanderer wasted no time, diving straight for the first vulnerable victim it sees. Talons drawn, vile eyes targeted straight at Caleb. MC dashed, with the endurance and stamina she had obtained through hard training, she withdrew her guns and aimed straight for the head. A trigger was pulled and the bullet swirled, carrying a whirr only heard by gun enthusiasts and it hit bullseye. The Wanderer screeched, agitated by the disturbance but eventually decided that it should play a game of cat and mouse.
Its' eyes snapped to the hunter and without even a blink, it hurtled after her in full speed. MC side stepped, using her body's momentum to swing her sideways but she was caught off guard by the Wanderer's speed, and hence earned herself a deep slash across her shoulder. A first taste of the Wanderer's weapon. She yelled out a string of profanities that rise to the top of her head and turned around, gun immediately clutched over her wound while she tried to focus away from the agony. She had to fight through this, anything to give Caleb more time to get backup on hand. His Torring Chip should be working on miracles by now and she could only pray that help comes faster before this Wanderer slices her into cubes.
Y/N should be coming anytime now. Or so she wished. The fight with the Wanderer went on for minutes but it felt like days to her, bullets hitting but it seemed to have taken knowledge of her weapon and has developed a shield against it's gust-like body. It stayed at the end of the street, monitoring her like a being sentient enough to study its prey. MC's mind was running out of ideas, if her gun is not strong enough, then she could only rely on her wits to win this fight. Even if its safe enough to say that it is not a fair fight for her end. "MC..." She heard a soft desperate croak of her name and she turned around.
Within that split second, her peripheral caught sight of Caleb waking up and then the next moment, she felt a bone crushing weight against the wide of her body and she flew, like a ragdoll tossed by a child. Her body skidded---clothes ripping against the tar road in rejection--- slammed against the concrete wall of one of the shops and she could hear the crack of her bones. Pain bloomed from her side, agony so intense she blacked out. It was a moment of distraction that cost her her consciousness.
MC's recovery for vision was quick, when her eyes slowly peeled open, the light welcomed her---radiant, static and blinding. Standing a few steps away from her was y/n, accoutred in kevlar that she had yet to see in the Fleet's uniform, but is a very promising outfit. In her arms, she held a Carbine---darker, sleeker than usual rifles owned by the Fleet---that emitted short wavelengths of purple and electric blue in staticky fashion. It suggested an evol manipulated weapon, another specialty within the Fleet.
Like an angel in disguise, y/n stood tall against the Wanderer---that was seemingly struggling within a planted electric field---heaving for her breath as she raised her gun in perfect stance; heel against her shoulder blade and muzzle aimed directly at the Wanderer's head. With a pull of a trigger, a loud WHOOSH was heard and the Wanderer's head got blown straight into pieces.
MC's arm was no longer of her concern while she stared at y/n in disbelief, unsure if she should be in awe because she came to save them at the right moment or that the Fleet does possess some otherworldly technology and the Hunter's Association should initiate negotiations for some of their equipment. Probably both. The 'angel' turned and MC's head stirred, sending her straight into a migraine frenzy as she clutched her head with her functioning hand.
The Wanderer, although with a blown off head---or so its structure suggests it---dived forward, surging all of its leftover core energy to seemingly trap y/n. Instead of retreating, she shifted her stance, one leg pulled back to give herself a steadier base and she cocked the front muzzle, the cracklings of the weapons intensifying with a whirring whistle. Rifle now braced onto her collarbone like an extension of her own spine.
MC could make out her lips moving ---muttering of a whisper that was swallowed up by the huge thunder that cracked from her weapon---and the bundle of energy released. It blasted a huge hole into the remaining mass of the Wanderer and the Wanderer roared, body seizing violently as it slowly phases out of existence.
"MC?" The voice was familiar, too familiar that it was raising to be an ick for MC. It was a call of her name, heard in multiple tones across ages back, where one of it was a cry for help. "MC." The voice came again, distorting into an indifferent tone, as if there was nothing to worry about. A tap to her shoulder, MC's cries stopped abruptly and she shot up with wild eyes and cold sweat running down her back.
Scanning her surroundings; the rooms were painted a light shade of blue, like the ones that serves a purpose to calm your nerves. And the equipment---sterile and surgical looking---in the room had suggested that she is in a ward. Yet, she could not seem to piece together whether did she just had a weird dream amidst her blackout or perhaps she may just be in a ward situated in Heaven. But what gave it off was the fruit basket placed by the side of her bed. With a neat handwriting wishing her well and signed off by y/n. The only indicator that shows she is yet to be dead from the Wanderer incident. Or could y/n be dead too?
"MC." Her head snapped abruptly, the nurse beside her wincing slightly at the firsthand experience of a hunter's reflexes. Adjusting her cuffs, she let out a nervous exhale to calm herself and continued her job. "You are okay, you're in the Fleet's medical facility." She assured her, the same hand that was on her shoulder gave her a light squeeze and she smiled, an awkward one to not startle MC. "You were in a light coma for the past few hours."
The only entrance to the room swung opened in a methodical manner, quiet but strong enough for one's presence to be known and y/n steps through the frame. This time in her relaxed uniform; white fitted button up tucked neatly into black slacks and her infamous safety boots. Her signature Fleet's coat draped across her arm like a functional accessory. A simple nod, the nurse salute in Fleet manner and stepped out of the room. "How are you feeling?" Simple, unreadable and indifferent. It was like the dream in MC's head is just a dream.
"Am I dead?" She went for the worst ending possible, already ready for a burst of laughter to address her inane question or an agreement to her statement. But none came. The air grew still and y/n looked nonetheless affected by her silly question. She pulled up her chair and sat, her tempo eerily slow, eyes staring blankly at a wall till her bum came in contact with the metal chair and it rolled towards MC in bed.
MC now lay in her bed, mouth opening to try and ask something but no questions came, for a twist of her tongue emitted a sour note that seized her voice. It came to light on its own. The feeling was fear, a primitive fear that settled wrongly at the depth of her stomach. "Not quite." Y/n eyed the bandaged scrape wound at the side of her ribs, blood crusted beneath the white gauze. "But you could've." Her pupils were eerily still, no aftershocks, no trauma from fighting an unclassified Wanderer. Her sentence ended on a note that could have leaned towards hope. Hope for MC's demise perhaps.
"Where's Caleb?" MC could not stop the concern slipping out of her mouth, her gaze drifted off and landed on the peeking handle of the lieutenant's trusty claymore tucked neatly against the collar of her armoured boots. Why would a weapon be brought near a medical facility? A quick peek and she could feel the gaze trained onto her, the full weight of y/n's aura enveloping her vulnerable figure.
"He is fine, thanks to you." The voice softened and MC looked up again, meeting the gaze of the other female in the room. A small smile slowly presented on her thin lips and MC could feel the tension draining from the room. Maybe she was just overthinking it. Y/n ducked, strands of her hair clung to a side of her uniform as she bent down towards her boots, hand reaching for the claymore. Till she pulled out a small bundle of flowers zipped shut in a sealed plastic bag. Baby breaths to be exact, with remnants of metaflux clinging to it. "I figured you might want to run some tests on these to figure out the class of the Wanderer that nearly got you both killed."
An act of case aid one may presume but MC does not lack the studies of human behaviours. It could the shifting of a topic with instant change in mannerisms to reduce suspicion or an act of guilt for unable to control her resting bitch face. However, MC's mind seemed to wander back to the incident, where y/n was too still, too calm at scene. Even the best of hunters, ones that are alike MC herself would be startled at an unclassified Wanderer surpassing her skills. Yes, even MC too had a moment where she thought she would die in the hands of the ghastly Wanderer.
But how could y/n remained so confident tells another tale she is ready to dive into. "How did you know..." Her voice raw, trembling at the slightest. She paused slightly and rephrased herself. "How were you so sure that your weapon would kill that Wanderer?"
The plastic bag that hung in the space between them eventually became the only thing blocking their line of sight. Y/n lowered it, eyes flickered with something dark and ancient for a slight second. And it was gone. Back to the facade of the Liutenant trying to calm a merely dying comrade. "I wasn't sure. I just acted as how I was trained." She said softly, head lowered, lashes shaded her pupils. "To fight. And to kill." Her words were certain, like she was only bred for that purpose. But the Fleet surely did not push her to that extent do they?
Y/n made the first move, her hand pressed against MC's, a firm and clinical move. MC should have felt relieve, but her guts twisted, because in this room, within the existence of this time and space, y/n didn't looked like someone whom was trained in the Fleet. She sounded like someone who was trained to join the Fleet. Someone whom had to fight death to be in the Fleet.
OKay, this is clearly set for a part 3, perhaps will be diving into a Caleb ended side of the story instead! We will see, hopefully all of you angst lovers are tagged well in this :) Lemme know what you think <3
ginny's note: y'all i tried my best to get a wide range of fics/authors that i love + was recommended to include on the list, but with that said if i missed any or you want me to add a fic, pls lemme know!! this list is meant to grow/evolve :D @thecutestgrotto for the divider!
"I wasn't born a villain. I was raised to be one."
Preview: MC was tasked to work with the Farspace Fleet on one of her missions. Whilst meeting the team, she was introduced to the Caleb's apprised liutenant, y/n. Austere, placid and stalwart. An acute example for a stellar member of the fleet but MC's sixth sense waivered. Her inner voice, paltry but clear, signalled y/n was more than what meets the eyes. Even if Caleb trusts her with his life. What would MC do? Go against the tide and warn Caleb of her doubt? Or to push through her instincts and work towards a common goal for the mission?
Warnings: Caleb x nonmc!, Xavier x MC!, blood curdling angst, story is written in MC's pov so I will use 'her' pronouns, usage of her for y/n too, MC is an unreliable narrator---may lean to a lot of self doubt and overthinking. A bit of a long read (be ready to indulge), cameo of Xavier for this part as part of Hunter's Association.
Author's Notes: This is an experimental piece for me. The idea came about when I was driving home and jamming to some badass music. Hope that it soothes some of your angsty grinding gears as I will be going full steam for this angst piece :) No more naise author role! Lemme know if you would like to be tagged!
All dividers are from @chrisssiren
į“¾įµŹ³įµ Ā²
The stack of papers laying on top of MC's desk has finally been cleared and she could finally see the horizon of her colleague's desk again past the white partition. It was a good start to the month or so she thought. The blond topped colleague of hers approached, a meek smile on his face while his cerulean orbs glinted with much excitement. "Captain Jenna told us we are bound for a business trip this coming week." A file lifted and he placed it casually onto her table.
A groan of lethargy was her response, hands coming up to rub her cheeks, not even caring if her foundation was going to be ruined at this extent. "Right when I thought I can get a break!" MC although lamented, but Xavier knew his girlfriend better than anyone else. The inner workaholic of hers presenting itself as she wasted no time in picking up the file to glance through the details. "We are going to Sky Haven?"
"An informant from the Fleet has told us about a recent influx of Wanderers in Sky Haven and the Farspace Fleet thinks that it may be connected to Ever." Taking a stand next to you, Xavier leaned down slightly, just enough for you to be shaded by his shadow. An unspoken moment of intimacy held in the space between the both of you. "We can catch the first train tomorrow if you're ready or we could opt to take a day's rest."
"Crimes don't wait nor rest, Xavier." MC gave him a side eye as if she was offended by his suggestion albeit his intentions were not meant to be harmful. With both hands up in the air to signal defeat, MC gave a satisfactory sigh and stood up, shoving the file into her bag and leaves the office with Xavier behind her, hurrying to link hands with her.
Xavier could not make it for the trip. Tasked for another emergency mission in Chansia, he left MC with an imprint of a kiss and a whispered goodbye in the middle of the night. She woke up to a handwritten note by his side of the bed, wishing her the best on her mission and that he would be in touch with her whenever time allows. A dynamic that could only be fostered within couples that work in the same field, but would be deemed a nuisance to others. Yet, MC holds no worry for Xavier, for he is a one man army himself but always lay low to not attract attention.
The train ride to Sky Haven was brief. Stepping out of the train, she could immediately spot the figure by the exit; tall, neat, disciplined stance. Caleb stood there like a wall, eyes scanning the crowd with precision till he landed onto MC. A smile broke onto his stern features and he started treading towards her. "Hey." He greeted her with such politesse that his facade of a colonel was gone for a moment, only if his uniform did not sell him out. "Welcome to Sky Haven."
"Thanks for having me on this mission." MC returned the grin, glad to see a familiar face in an unfamiliar territory. However behind him, donning the same Fleet uniform, with the same trained sharp gaze. The female officer's aura screamed of resplendent danger. Even more, she must be the apprised Liutenant of Caleb's. Stepping forth, MC's height is on par with hers, but she could definitely feel the stark difference in between the both of their presence.
"MC." A hand was outdrawn and a small formal smile pasted on her face. "I'm y/n. It is a pleasure to work together with you." MC reacted, quickly hurtling her hand forward to grab y/n's. The grip was gentle, but firm enough to establish confidence and trust. "I hope the journey has been pleasant for you."
"It's about to rain, we should get going." Caleb sound cuts through her memory and she was snapped back to reality. Watching Caleb casually helping her with her luggages---but was already a few steps ahead---a hand placed at the lower back of y/n's, guiding her towards the exit while MC stood at the back. Although this trip may make MC the ultimate lightbub, her childhood friend is in love and MC could not be any happier for them both.
There was a reason why the word briefing exists, and under the command of y/n, she surely kept the word briefing to its literal meaning. Standing on the stage, behind a podium, her words echoed through the sound system of the hall. "I believe all of you had read through the reports regarding the latest Wanderer outbreaks. I would like to introduce all of you to MC, whom will be tasked to assist us in this investigation." A slight pause and a loud thud came, spotlight trained onto MC.
A uniform array of boots thudded against the marble floor and all of the Fleet members turned to face MC in her glory under the blinding spotlight. Arms up, taut body, saluting her out of respect from their Liutenant's request. "I expect all of you to give her your full cooperation." Y/n's eyes trained on MC, the subtle hint of flames danced behind those pupils of hers---a soldier that is trained and always ready to fight, and is not afraid of being a casualty in war. MC bowed back out of respect and the Fleet thudded again, like a trained performance, all faced back to the Liutenant. Another salute and they all started to leave the hall in an orderly manner.
The spotlight receded from MC's figure and she had to rub her eyes in order to adjust back to the lighting surrounding the hall. "Let's talk." Y/n was fast. Too silent. With 2 inch military boots, the lack of clacking against the marbled floor raised the hair at the back of MC's neck. "In my room." She struts off and MC followed, walking behind her.
Y/n's room was tidy, expected of one from military background. The room was fairly huge, with enough breathing space to fit a wide table and a seating area, fixed with a small bar table for coffee making to entertain guests. The walls held no decoration other than corkboard lined with maps, mission notes and plans of execution--some of recent ongoing missions, while some marked a stain for her past deployments. And judging from the lack of connective red lines across the cork board, the mission may have gone cold from the board, but not from y/n's mind.
The desk centered in the room displayed her field notebook, her name tag and rank insignia that glinted under the rays of the warm sunlight raying in from her windows. Tactical manuals stacked atop one another in alphabetical order and weighed down by a ceramic paperweight shaped like an apple---the only marker that points towards her establishment of relationship with Caleb. Y/n's room is utilitarian, a space built mainly for focus and resilience, yet still touched by the presence of a woman in love.
"Coffee?" Her voice is gentle now, without the existence of a crowd, MC felt more at ease being around her. Y/n could easily top Captain Jenna with her duality. A nod from the guest got the coffee machine whirring from a cold start and started spilling aromatic coffee into the cup. "I'm surprised Caleb would ask for your assistance." The statement emerged out of nowhere and MC looked up, watching the Liutenant watching the cup that was slowly getting filled, back still facing her.
"I was too." MC responded, shifting in her seat on the sofa slightly to accommodate the building tension in the room. Gulping nervously, she probed further. "Is there something the matter?"
The night MC had received the mission, she had done some research using the Hunter's Association database. It was a known fact that all of the Fleet's upper administration possesses some other-worldly evol. Other than it making them stand out from the crowd, their evols make them especially useful during physical battles, exactly embedding the idea of being a living weapon. And for an established military base like the Fleet, the usage of bioweapons is what sets them apart from other reigns of power. Yet, no information was found regarding y/n's evol in the file.
Her file was clean, structured to be a military servant, has high combative powers and is very disciplined. Passing all physical tests with flying colors and learns quick through visual observation. She is excellent, but it does not make sense for her to climb the ranks and be useful for the Fleet if she does not any evol. Or at least that was what got stuck within MC's mind. But with the benefit of the doubt, she figured maybe the Fleet has recently had a change of course in mindset and perhaps value physical combative strength over evol possession.
"No." Y/n came over and MC notices this time her boots announced its presence against the floor. Rubber against wood. Two cups were placed onto the mahogany coffee table. Fine porcelain hand painted with images of model planes in the sky. Yet another clear indicator of Caleb's gift. "The higher ups never took a liking towards competitors for cases that takes place in Sky Haven." It is certainly true that the Fleet does not partake in other legislations in other districts.
"So is it a mistake for me to be here?" MC was straight to the point, getting y/n flitting her eyes through the rim of her cup as she sipped, ever so poised and calm. The cup was lowered but instead of a glare, y/n let out a smile. One carefully curated to put MC's nerves to ease.
The colonel's lady gestured towards her cup, silently urging her to take a sip of the prized drink and she spoke, words rolled off of her tongue in the accent that is native to her race. "Although I am part of the Fleet, my loyalty and reverence for Colonel Caleb runs deep. And I practically suggested for your participation when I got ahold of your operations down in Linkon."
MC nearly choked onto the tea, the tangyness of citrus latched onto the back of her throat. "So you're Captain Jenna's appointed insider?" Everything clicked, why there was a sudden fast pass to Sky Haven and she was directed towards assisting the Fleet rather than instructed to conduct her own investigations. MC may have set the cup down a bit too quickly, the drink sloshing around in turbulence while she grasped onto the liutenant's gloved hand. The sudden move was anticipated, but y/n certainly was not expecting it to be bone crushing from the excited hunter. "It's a pleasure to meet you, y/n!"
A finger made its way to the hunter's lips to shush her. A clear reminder that it was y/n's choice to reveal her identity to the hunter. "Let's not be too excited now, shall we? It is still afterall a secret." Her eyes briefly scanned the room, even in the safety of her own space, y/n could never be too careful of eavesdroppers. "Ever has been very unpredictable lately. We needed extra hands to conduct the investigations while we are busy cleaning up." Her voice was controlled, low and informative.
The teapot was lifted and more tea was added into MC's cup, an invitation to continue their tea chatter. MC leaned back, already catching up to the indicative signs shown by the liutenant and she snapped herself back to the innocent hunter she is, acting like whatever they had discussed about had never happened in the vicinity of this room. "How was Aunt Josephine?"
The question from y/n sounded like she had known her for ages. MC's eyes snapped a bit too quickly, clearly caught off guard from the lack of knowledge between y/n and her granny's relationship. Opposite from her, a calm smile grazed her thin lips, an acknowledgement of MC's surprise. "Caleb talked a lot about her." She explained and spoke no further details of what Caleb had told her about.
It nearly made MC raised an eyebrow. Caleb is one to hold to his principles and not speaking of family matters is one MC is all too familiar with. That not even Gideon knows anything about. However, the benefit of doubt is there, as y/n is his girlfriend and she surely has the right to know, right? MC finds the question peeking in her head but chose to ignore it and answers. "Gran is doing fine, she recently has had some trouble walking but with some pain meds and a cane, she is as fit as a fiddle."
Another smile and a nod, the Liutenant was glad to hear about the old lady's physical state. "If you don't mind." MC could feel the itch at the back of her throat, to ask more, to know more about this blank slate of a female in front of her. When reports would and did not show, she could only opt to ask. "Does Caleb tell you alot about our family?"
"Only the ones he thinks I deserve to know." The Liutenant then stood, her response indicated her unlikeliness for her to prod into family matters. With a few steady clicks of her boots, MC was escorted out of the room, the four walls extended into a sterile hallway and Caleb stood at the end of it. Before MC extends her leg towards the hallway, y/n called for her name. "Officer MC," A slow roll of her tongue showcased the hints of accents that may have faded through time. "If distrust comes in between our relationship due to family matters, I hope that you will know what is best for the mission."
Y/n's gaze had darkened, the previous amiable light in them vanquished within the blink of an eye. She served a warning to the female in front of her, seeing right through one's soul with her trained gaze. It thickened not only the tension in between them, but it also directly forced all sense of distrust out of MC's system because y/n is right. If distrust is going to get into the way because she was worried about what Caleb may have disclosed to y/n, then perhaps MC's professionalism should be questioned. And MC is not ready to give up on this mission.
Half of a second rolled by and Caleb was approaching her. "It's nice meeting you, MC. I ensure you that there is nothing to worry about." Her last sentence was meant to be reassuring but MC could somewhat taste the acridity in it, as if the lack of professionalism is a triggering point for y/n. And the door closes shut in front of her.
The Colonel now stands in front of MC, tall and honored in his medal cladded uniform. His demeanour however, an exact opposite of his achievements. Down to earth, impish and friendly. "How was meeting the girlfriend?" A small smile hung at the side of his thin lips, a gesture only reserved for his closed circle of friends and family.
MC meets his gaze and she could see the way his eyes gleamed with the expectation of a man whom is proud of his own woman. Not that his childhood friend has any complaints regarding the girlfriend either so accompanied with a shrug, she casually replied. "She's definitely your type." And the colonel laughed in return, his voice echoed through the empty hallways as they strutted towards the cafeteria, a small smile emitting from MC out of relief and genuine amusement. She missed hanging out with Caleb afterall.
Yet, from within the room, y/n heard them well. The walls are certainly not thick enough to filter out the laughter from Caleb and the fading two sets of footsteps down the hallway. Her grip tightened, gaze narrowed into slits, veins popped against the back of her hand and she could physically feel the currents emitting from the Torrent Chip that was implanted into the back of her neck, struggling to rid her of her emotions but it eventually sizzled dead with a whistle.
į“¾įµŹ³įµ Ā²
Do you think this has potential for another good piece? I do and I hope you would read it too <3
Taglist is open and ready for booking! This is going to be made into a few parts because I can exploit this plot a lil more and maybe I am trying to hard to cover up the idea that I may have a little bit of writer's block here and there :0
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
PREVIEW: Fate is a term that suggests predetermined events that are inevitable, a route that is not available to anyone's alteration. Yet, destiny, in all of its glory is defined as a path that opens up possibilities of choices and actions that one can take to change it. So, what if coincidence came under the disguise of a fate or perchance, a destiny?
WARNINGS: First date vibes! , evol does not exist in this universe but for characters with soul bonds, the aspect of the bond remains, non-mc! reader, mixture of the boys' povs, mid to long-length read, slow-burn piece, real-life scenario applications, cutesy and cheek reddening and leg-kicking fluff. Heart-wrenching angst! more on the boys part awrgh
NOTES: Due to some of the readers' demand, here goes the official/unofficial first date with the boys where they get to know more about you and how the relationship blooms. This episode also introduces MC and her relationship to the boys because I am a proud angst writer. Enjoy your read my beloved readers and lemme know what you think!
All dividers are sourced from @uzmacchiato!
į“į“Źį“ į“É“į“ Źį“Źį“!
RAFAYEL - ART GALLERY
The day has finally came, the day where your legend will live on to either be on the pleasing side or the repulsive side. The day where Rafayel would be visiting the gallery to witness your debut piece. You barely slept through the night, mostly camping at the gallery with a coffee machine and scribbled speech drafts prepared especially for the hungry reporters. You had never tried so hard in your whole life. Not even during your practical finals where 90% of the class is guaranteed an F grade.
"How is everything coming about---woah you look like shit." Your manager had stepped through the entrance, in a tailored suit and styled hair. No doubt today is going to be her big break too, so of course she is dressed for the occasion. "How long have you been here?" Her eyes flitted amongst your scattered pieces of drafts and strewn paper cups all over the floor of the gallery.
"I don't know, maybe a day or two?" You did not spare her your attention, your eyes still trained on your laptop, search results showing the possible question a reporter would ask a newly debut celebrity artist, singer, anyone who generally lives on the brink of fame. You did not tell your manager, Rhapsody that Rafayel would be attending the debut because you know well enough that she would fangirl harder than you and it may cause an issue for Rafayel. Or maybe for you.
"Go home and get a shower at least, you have---" She glanced down at her Rolex, the gilted watch gleamed under the chandelier's glow. "Around two hours to be ready for your debut." And that sent you darting off of the floor, grabbing your finalised script and laptop and you shouted something about clean up as you dashed out. Rhapsody sighed, looking at the mess on the floor and she took out her phone, typing in a contact she is rather familiar with and she called in for the cleaning crew.
Slotting yourself through the automatic turnstiles, you eased your way out of the gallery and headed straight for the passenger sidewalk that is located right next to the roundabout encircling a majestic fountain. Until you heard a loud honk and a screech, a flash of something black passed by your peripheral vision. Too big to be identified as a human, too fast to be identified as a scooter. It was a black sports car that pulled up a few feet away from you, right across the street, parked right next to the patch of trimmed grass next to the sculpted gnomes. You are sure that it is an illegal parking spot.
You frowned, upset with how your life had just flashed right before your eyes till the dihedral doors clicked open. Stepping out in a full black get up, Rafayel had never looked better. And for a moment, you did not mind even if he ended up running you over. He came afterall, and in fact, two hours before your debut. "Rafayel?" You uttered his name loud enough for him to turn his head to the source of the sound.
He looked breathtaking, with the coiffed pale purple hair soaking under the luminescent sun rays, those dual-tone irises that sparkled a bright aqua-pink when he caught your gaze. Not to mention that billboard-ready smile that you are so used to seeing in magazines, but this one, the one that he is flashing you now is different. More reserved. More genuine. More warmth, just like the sun that is hung high above on a typical summer day. "Hey, so sorry for scaring you just now, you weren't looking when you were crossing." He had jogged over, now standing directly in front of you. "Are you okay?"
Your trail of thoughts snapped and you nodded furiously, embarrassed at your second encounter with him being so sudden again. You were not expecting him to be the first one here that is for sure. Adding on with your disheveled state, you are definitely not a sight to look at. "I'm okay. I...I have to get home now, to wash up and all." You chuckled bashfully, hand coming up to rub your reddening cheeks to soothe yourself. "I wasn't expecting you to come."
"Well you did texted me the details of the gallery." He pulled out his phone, showing you the message you had sent him in an all too formal tone of saying hi with a sentence of self introduction and also the time and date and venue of your debut piece. Alongside with a RSVP status pending for his confirmation.
It was the style of a boomer text that caught you off guard. Not the flirtatious nickname nor the lack of punctuation in his sentence nor his teases via the first text. But you paid no special attention to his words for you had seen a couple of his interviews before where interviewers being attracted to him is a common scene. It does not aid in his situation when he flirts back. If you have a face like his, you would not hold back either. To him, you are probably just another girl he can flirt with.
Fast forward, you had managed to clean up yourself within an hour and you have another hour to spare. All thanks to Rafayel's persistence to drive you back, claiming that his car is going to be faster than the train and sure enough, the journey back to your place was only 15 minutes. With him zooming past traffic and with you holding onto the seatbelt for dear life. When you reached back to your apartment, you thanked him and jogged up the stairs leading to your floor, not entertaining his requests to come into your unit. "Just wait for me at the lounge!"
"Thanks for waiting." You walked up to him, his limn silhoutte the only one in the lounge's seating area. He was typing away on his phone, face held a distinct calmness that you wish you can embody now. Your voice reached him and Rafayel turned his head to look. And he really looked. Dressed up in a black turtle neck and a pair of slacks, he has never seen anyone looked that good in this get up you are rocking. He quickly cleared his throat, a slight tinge of pink washed over his cheeks and he got up from his seat and started walking over to you.
"You look presentable." He complimented and you blinked a couple of times, glancing down at your last minute fit. Sure it is not any designer brands and there are some loose threads under the turtle neck of yours but perhaps getting a compliment from Rafayel is worth more than the value of any branded items. "Let's get going, yeah?" And he extended his arm out to you. You shot him a perplexed look only for him to chuckle and to casually grabbed onto your wrist to sling it over his extended arm. The touch was gentle but the warmth that radiated off of his hand had reached the apples of your cheeks.
He circled over to the passenger door and clicked the door open for you, leading you into the seat before closing the door behind you. Watching him get into his seat, you did not realised you were staring until his eyes caught yours and he beamed. "I know I look exceptional today, but you don't have to gawk at me like this." And you nearly choked on your own breath. "Calm down cutie."
"Do you call everyone that?" You panned, eyes narrowing at the usage of the nickname again. Not being in a relationship and already addressing someone with such an endearing nickname, it calls for some suspicion.
The car ignited with a low rumble and he focused onto the road, steering out of the parking lot and set course to the gallery once again. Rafayel's smirk still hung on his lips, entertained at the idea that he is living rent free in his head. In fact, you too, had been living rent free in his mind for the past week. Your empathy for a man who has probably earned lots from selling crappy banal artworks, your admiration for him being an artist to you being bashful when he left your side with such a confident gait. Leaning back into his bucket seat as his car rolled to a slow stop in front of a traffic light, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I guess only time will tell, y/n."
Upon arriving at the art gallery, you invited Rafayel to look at your debut piece. Since you have 45 minutes to spare before the event starts, you may as well give him a private viewing to prep yourself for any harsh critiques that may come later by art reporters, curators or potential buyers. Given his status as one of the top artists, there is no doubt that his critiques may come off to be more constructive rather than negative. And you would take it over anything else for the start. Rafayel's heels clicked in tandem with yours, the sound reverberating across the empty halls. Till you both came to the end of the hallway, a big red curtain draped over a hung square frame. "Are you ready?" You looked up towards the lilac haired individual and he smiled comfortingly at you.
"Yeah, can't wait." And you tugged onto the red curtain, the fabric slipping off easily off of the rounded edges of the frame. Cascading down elegantly in front the both of you and landing onto the marbled floor. Rafayel's eyes widened at the painted scene on the huge canvas.
It was the recreation of the scene when you had first approached him, the stall, the same seller, the many counterfeit items on display. The color grading was warm, resembling the sun's brightness on that day. But it also held the warmth of you meeting him for the first time. All was depicted to be the same other than his portrait, his face was painted into a streak of colors, splashed carelessly but with such intent to explain the array of emotions that ran around his mind during then. The plaque below indicated the title of the piece 'The Story of An Artist and His Art'. A simple, commendable, representative plaque that breathed life into the artwork.
Red to indicate his frustration, blue to indicate his ability to stay calm, green to indicate his logical thinking, pink to indicate his love for that created artwork of his, black to indicate that this is not his first encounter, yellow to weigh how much the painting is worth and a mixture of many more that is left for many to interpret. But also, to maintain mysteriousness for the man's identity. The man whom stood next to you now, with eyes that was taking in every single detail of the painted scene.
Rafayel had only ever painted someone else as to be his muse. But this painting that hung highly in front of him, featured him as the muse. You taking him to be your muse was a fresh and foreign concept to him. But he does not hate it, he could not bring himself to. It was so breathtaking that it enveloped him in a sense of belonging. A sense that he is treated the same as how he would treat someone he likes. And it sparked in him---that low trickle of a vibration deep within his atrium---perhaps, Rafayel already has his heart with you.
"Is the silence a bad thing?" He glanced down to you, seeing your eyebrows hunched together and your lips pressed into a thin line. A gust of wind passed by the both of you and a strand of hair flew past your vision, batting against your eyelashes like a wave.
Rafayel raised his hand, gently tugging onto the stray strand of hair and he pulled it behind, tucking it nicely behind your ear so he could take in all of your features. Seeing you looking so concerned about your artwork nearly got Rafayel wanting to kiss that worry away. But he did not, for he has no position to do so and he is not a man who acts without consent. "Silly girl, the silence is me admiring your artwork." Your breath got caught in your throat the second time. The first was when he tucked your hair and now his compliment. "You should wipe that frown away before I do."
Your mouth opened, closed and opened again, like how his goldfish would occasionally do in the fish tank. No words seem to roll out, but he watched as your cheeks start taking on a rubescent shade. Out of shyness, you drooped your head and stared at the ground, your feet digging imaginary holes into the waxed marbled floor. "Thank you, it means a lot to me, Rafayel."
A small force was applied under your chin and it was pushed upwards, eyes automatically finding and gazing into his again. The artist in front of you stood one step closer, close enough for you to smell that signature scent of his again. The pinch on your chin overstaying its welcome, his touch setting a low burn onto your skin. "No, y/n. Thank you." How could he make gratitude sound so sincere? "Your artwork means a lot to me." His grip on your chin drops and so did his eyes, flitting between your eyes and your lips for a mere second. It was suggesting for a more daring step but he leaned back, not wanting to progress too quickly as he was afraid of scaring you away.
Rafayel could not risk it, could not risk losing one that nearly resembles a mirage of him. One that he knew he would be very fond of as time passes by. In the wide hallway, stood the both of you the size of ants between huge pillars and countless hung artworks. Yet you surmounted all of their beauty, with eyes so bright and a smile so right, you reminded him of a little red crab that stood so proud atop of the sand and yet, you could very well be the blight of his heart. "Y/n, I-" A vibration in his phone cut him off mid-conversation and he silently cursed under his breath, fishing his phone out of his pocket, thumb positioned to end the call if the name rang no significance to him. The name MC flashed on the screen. "Sorry y/n, I have to take this."
You were sure that when the phone call came, you watched his expression turned from frustration to realisation. It was the kind of realisation that brings about a comfort to the tension. The person on the other end of the call must hold a title within his heart then. He strutted off, polished heels clicked against the floor as he took a few steps away from you. He thumbed the icon on the phone and pressed the phone to his ear habitually.
The voice on the other end was familiar, one he was very used to. Talking and ranting about her latest mission and that a seafood broil would make do with her stress. Rafayel has dealt with MC countless times, and time and time again, the chase seemed endless. With her,---over the stretch of months since he had met her---he had to curate himself, to be the bearer of a mask that he was not willing to wear all in the name of a bond that was made ages ago. At least with y/n, Rafayel noticed that from the first day he had ever set eyes on you, he never had to try. Never had to bow to the acknowledgement of a bond, never had to put his mind through tons of filters just to not offend you.
As paltry as he can be, freewill allows him to practice patience with you. An option that was not available to his relationship to MC, not that it blossomed into a relationship worth waiting for anyways. MC appeared in his life like a flash of a lighting and disappeared just the same whenever she wants to, and he is always forced to face with the desolation, to think of logical reasonings on her behalf, to soothe himself of the ache that the bond has created between them. Rafayel is tired. Abhorred even. So much so the call is nothing but white noise behind him, a blustering wind he could not contain. Nor does he want to.
Eavesdropping was not an option as every word he says echoes throughout the hall like he is on a loud speaker. He was talking about meeting up with someone but there is hesitation in his voice, an uncertainty that hung on his tone. When he put the phone down, you nervously fiddled with the hem of your shirt, pretending that you were not paying attention to his phone conversation. "Is it something urgent?" You decided to take the lead to ask.
"No, don't worry about it." He shoved his phone back into his pocket and took his stand right in front of you again. This time, a pat is landed onto your head, just like the first time he had done it to you in that alleyway. However, this pat was a sign of reassurance, an unspoken comfort to your consternation. "It is not someone you have to worry about." Yet, he is worried enough to pick up the call amidst a confession. His hand leaves your head and he clears his throat, minding that he has probably touched you a bit too much this time. "I swear I am not so touchy of a person."
That got you to chuckle and it was melodious to his ears. You turned to face your artwork and he mimicked you, both feigning close focus on the splatters of paint on your canvas. "It's okay, Rafayel. I don't mind." He had been staying in your mind rent-free for days, and although relationships had never really crossed your mind, but if its with him, maybe you would not mind at all.
The smile was aimed at the artwork but his head snapped over at your statement and he caught it. The sunlight from the windowed roof slanted in, hitting the crown of your head and forming a halo on top of it. The room felt lighter around him, like your smile had done all of the heavy lifting on his heartstrings. The bags under your eyes are more prominent to him now despite the light layer of makeup you had put on. It shows, that he mattered in your artwork. The sleepless nights while being reliant on caffeine and inspiration from that day at the market's memory.
It is a sight Rafayel would trade anything in the world to see you being buried in your own world, painting away. He would want to be there, to make an eidetic daydream come true. Instead of the caffeine, he wants you to rely on him, to be the indefatigable presence you deserve. Rafayel sees this trait in himself too. Selfish, but he is nothing but a man yearning for love as pure as his. As he stood next to you, watching you smile so absentmindedly at his presence, Rafayel's mark on his chest ached and he reveled in the throbbing pain, all while forcing himself to think that the mark has found the rightful owner instead of mourning over the occupancy of a bond.
SYLUS - HOTEL
You had been holed up in your hotel room for the whole day. Face stuck to your computer screen and UV light the only source of lighting present in your currently aphotic room. The words that were typed out in front of you are turning into squiggly lines against a pristine white background. Your manicured hands came up to lazily rub against your face. If it was putty, you would have a seriously messed up face at this point.
Earlier on, the interview with the client went very well, too well to the point you had too many points to put into your article now. Staring blankly in between your scrawled handwriting on your notebook and the neat blocks of letters on your laptop, your eyes are starting to droop out of exhaustion. With a sigh, you forced yourself out of your seat and something landed onto the carpeted floor with a light rustle. It was the name card that belonged to that man you had the worst encounter with before and during your plane flight. But it was the same man that got the butterflies in your stomach banging blindly against your innards.
You picked up the card, squinting your eyes to catch the details on it embossed in carmine cursive fonts. The title of his business aligned at the middle of the card. Onychinus. His name at the bottom right corner. Sylus Qin. His phone number right below. The same number he had asked of you to call so you could meet up with him. Although he suggested for you to make up to him for this next meet, you figured having some company is better than being besties with your laptop on a business trip. Pulling up your phone, you typed in his number and pressed the phone to your ear at the dial tone.
Doot...doot...doot... A click came through and the gravelly voice was heard. "Y/n." You were taken aback at the idea he actually remembered your name despite his lack of interest in wanting to engage in your small talks. There was a subtle pause, a sigh and he continued before you could get the chance to bid him hello. "I wasn't expecting you to call at such a timing." Sylus glanced over to the ticking clock on the wall. 3:27 a.m. He wonders why are you still up. He had yet to meet another night owl other than his own employees who works for him around the clock. "Something bothering you, sweetie?"
Instinctively, you bit your bottom lip, the usage of the nickname rolled off of his tongue like sweet venom. "Hi, thanks for picking up my call." If he could see you now, you would be a good representation of a freshly picked tomato. "I was busy finishing up my report and realised that I needed to get away from the four walls of doom." A small huff came out of your mouth at the end of your sentence and it made the big man smirked. "What about you? Why are you up?"
This has got to be your first time going out with a total stranger and with him offering you for a joy ride in a foreign state. It was daunting for an overthinker like you, as you do not know where you may end up with him. However, your need to be away from this cramped space had defied all logic and if the news agency is going to lose someone like you, you may just be fine with it. "Yeah, I think that is nice. You can pick me up at the lobby of Midsummer Resort."
Sylus is already out of his seat, shrugging on his protective gear, the leather a stark contrast against his pale hair. "I'll see you in ten minutes, sweetie." And the call ended with a click. Sylus is already strutting out of the heavy doors of his pent house, his heels leaving indented footprints onto the heavily carpeted floors of the level. Usually, to tip things in his favour, he rarely shows up on time, it is with all means to rouse the other party and to give him the upper hand in manipulating the rules of the game. But with you, he does not have the intention to be late.
His mind now blanked, carmine eyes trained aimlessly at the lit-up button that brings him to the garage. Your job should have heightened his alertness and bring up the veil of ignorance yet it baffles him on why he particularly finds you interesting out of every other commoner. Maybe it is the aloofness that you hold whilst conversing with him, or the way your face is always so expressive that it seemed impossible for him to imagine you being serious on your job. All hunched in front of the laptop screen, perching your chin against your palm as you typed an endless article.
A small voice at the back of his head jabbed at the soft spot that was once opened to another but got back fired. A wound that he has yet to fully recover from. The same intrigue he held for the one in the past, MC. It turned out to be the same curiosity that wilted him to be the man he is now, so wary and defensive of his own actions. Awfully, you reminded him of her, the same eyes that carries such hope, the same smile that can light up the world in his eyes. And maybe, just maybe, the same reliance and trust you are starting to imply onto him. Uncanny enough, but Sylus is not biting the bullet shot by his own demons within.
He heaved his long legs over his motorbike and twisted the key, the engine coming to life with a low roar. Switching gears fluently, he rode out of the garage and dived into the dead streets, already setting course towards your resort without the need for a navigation tool. The dark of the night swallowed him as he rode on the tar roads, the moon urging him to entertain his thoughts of utilising this offer of a joy ride to get to know you more. And Sylus is almost convinced.
Reeling back to you, the phone call ended and your other hand that was initially drawing mindless circles on the armrest of your chair came up to grip your phone tightly, crossing your fingers into the shape of a fist and you propped your chin onto it. You did not know what to think nor to react. Him calling you sweetie when you had barely gotten to know him? A classic move for a player. But his demeanour had suggested otherwise throughout the flight. Avoidant, calculative and dismissive. But does not deny the fact you were allured not only by his handsome looks, his quirky charm too, played a part. You got changed and started descending down to the lobby where you would be meeting him.
Once you got out of the elevator, you looked around the lobby but no towering man is seen sat on any of the leather armchairs. Till a deafening roar caught your attention, a figure in full black pulled up at the driveway of the hotel lobby and the grumble of his motorbike came to a halt, the engine switching off with a low whistle. You started walking towards the exit, heartbeat escalating with each step you are taking. The motorbiker hitched himself off of the motorbike seat and he unbuckled the helmet he was wearing and pulled it off with a swift motion. No doubt it was Sylus.
He had not noticed you yet as he casually leaned against his motorbike and pulled his phone out of his jean's back pocket. Without his glasses, he looked even more attractive. The way the ceiling lights casted a downpour of warm light onto his silver hair, he looked ethereal in the veil of the night. You forced yourself to blink a couple of times before you stepped out to meet him. "Mr. Sylus." You addressed him formally and watched as his pupils lazily dragged over to take in your form. "Thanks for coming over." Your index finger came up to point at his mode of transport. "That...that's a nice bike you got there."
The edge of his lip tugged into a teasing smirk and he handed his helmet to you, urging you to take it. So you did, hugging the helmet just like how you cradled your carry on baggage in the plane. "You wanted a joy ride don't you?" Quirking one of his eyebrows, he watched you nodded in return. "This bike is the best for a joy ride." The helmet looked like a cannon ball in your arms and seeing how you are studying it, Sylus pushed himself off of his bike and took up your personal space, closing in the distance in the blink of an eye and you gulped nervously, eyes staring past him so he would not catch your embarassment. "Eyes on me, sweetie."
You hate that his voice has an invisible command over you. Unwillingly, you looked up and it was too late, his carmine eyes glinted with amusement, lips pulled into a small smile. He slotted the helmet over your head and adjusted the length of the strap to secure it over your head. His touch too, was commanding, but it held a sense of gentle waver in them. "I'm sorry, I never rode a bike." Your apology out of the blue caught him off guard and you watched an unreadable expression flashed across his gaze but he was quick to readjust. "But thanks for helping me with the helmet."
"Everyone's got their first times." No judgement was heard in his tone. He then gestured towards his motorbike, standing next to you as he takes interest in watching how you are going to get onto the bike. "Do you need help?" He cocked his head, that playful smirk finding its way back on to his face.
"It would be nice if you could teach me how to get onto this motorbike before I topple it over." Your slightly frustrated tone was accompanied with yet another huff at the end of your sentence and Sylus chuckled lightly, coming over and clamping his big hands over the span of your waists and he easily hoisted you up and onto the backseat of the motorbike. You gasped in surprise, cheeks flushing florid at his daring touch.
He paid no mind, getting onto the front seat of the bike and starting the engine. Panicking, both of your arms automatically wrapped around his torso and the man looked down for a brief moment. The arms that wrapped around him now are not the ones in the past anymore. Oddly, he did not miss the ghost of her touches as yours are the ones that he seemed to care more about now.
"One more thing." He said, head turned slightly to catch you in his peripheral vision. "Just address me as Sylus. There is no need for formality around me, y/n." When he said your name, you felt like your heart had stopped beating. Your name sounded so foreign coming from him but it was a phrase you could get used to listening to on repeat. His hand tapped the back of your hand and you smiled through the helmet, your eyes crinkling to indicate how wide you were grinning and he sent a reassuring smile back at you before he began riding with you sat behind him.
Sylus stopped at the top of a hill, a spot he would usually come to whenever he wants some time alone. The hill overlooked the city, the hustle and bustle reduced to nothing but flickering lights and howling winds. You were perched against the railing, eyes closed and enjoying the winds caressing your cheeks. Sylus could not help but to stare at you, chest rising and falling at an even pace. He is not used to this feeling of peace, not even when he is in solitude. Not even when his soulmate was around. Even with a soul bond, the man was chained down to his fears, not to her soul and that was what changed him once the bond went astray.
"Sylus?" His crimson eyes darted to you and you were in front of him now, eyebrows knitted, hair batting lightly against your face when he realised that you had probably been calling out to him for a while. "Are you alright?" Your fingertips lightly reached out to tap his shoulder and he was quick to seize it, his deft actions made you jumped slightly but his grip was not tight, only holding the ends of your cold fingertips. His palm was warm, soothing to your freezing touch.
"Yes, I'm fine." He is back to being clipped, void of any reassurance towards your concern to him. He loosens his grip and you let your hand drop back to your side, already regretting on your move. "I may just be enjoying your company more than I was expecting." There is no use in hiding. He knew why there was a dull throb coming from deep within him, the dull rejection of your soul is an obvious sign that he is starting to fall for you. "You were supposed to make up to me with more champagne."
Your eyes widened at his reminder, realising that you had indeed promised him more champagne rather than a joyride. "It's okay, we can set another---"
"This makes up for it, y/n." Sylus let out a sigh, his breath misting in the cold night air. He lowered his lids, the initial intense glow of his carmine eyes now dulled to a ruby tone, still gleaming like jewels under the moonlight. He takes a step closer to you, just like how he had helped you with your helmet a while ago. You held your breath, watching as he had closed in to your personal bubble, and you allowed him to. The butterflies in your stomach now are fluttering their wings at full speed, already screaming out your developing feelings towards him.
Sylus felt something cracked beneath his ribs, right when he pulled your chin upwards to face him. The pain was enough to make him wince but he could not tear his expressions apart, not when he is standing in front of you, a newfound soul that he may just let in because his heart had found peace with you. "Next time, whenever you are up for a joy ride or simply because you want to, call me and I'll be there y/n."
ZAYNE - AKSO HOSPITAL
The next day had rolled by and you arrived to the hospital as per usual, five minutes before your shift starts. You clocked in, the familiar jolt after a short beep indicating that you had already checked in for your shift. Next, routinely, you carried yourself towards the holographic board in the middle of the staff hallway. The blue billboard stood out against the batches of white walls surrounding it and you were surprised to see Dr. Zayne standing in front of it, studying his shift. This may be a good chance for you to approach him.
But a nurse beat you to it, a younger female probably a tad bit shorter than you, walking over to Zayne with a folder in her arms and a wide grin plastered onto her face. She called out to him and he turned as instructed, facial expression indifferent when she started chatting up with him about his schedule. As much as you would like to talk to him personally, it is perhaps a curse that Zayne is rather popular amongst his peers and it is not only limited to his doctorate skills. The day still urges you to go on and you stepped forward, minding your own business.
Zayne turned when his name was called and he caught sight of Syeah, the new nurse for his department. She bids him good morning as she walked over with light footsteps, almost skipping if one is allowed within a professional scene. Zayne knew her grin all too well, it is the kind of grin that is too wide for it to be just friendly, it is a grin that demands for something in return. In this case, it demands for his attention. "Dr. Zayne, I have been giving extra care towards the patient in room two as per your suggestion and they are feeling better now." She hands him the charts and he took it from her grip, her cheeks reddening when his finger accidentally touched hers in the exchange but he remained stoic. "So, do I get a reward or something?"
The hazel-green orbs of his darted onto her face, his hands lowered the patient's chart and he panned. "Asking for a reward just because you are supposed to be doing your job is a daring move." He passed the charts back to her and furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his wide torso. "If you constantly expect for a reward for everything you do, even if its your specified job scope as a nurse to care for your patients, then maybe you are not cut out for this industry." His harsh words drained colour from the nurse's face and she turned on her heel, already embarassed at the encounter as she departed away from his presence. She was lucky that the floor was empty or else she would make it to be the hot topic for this week's gossip.
"That is harsh." You voiced out, already standing next to him as your eyes are still busy scanning for your name on the holographic board. Zayne heard your voice and he stopped momentarily, lips pressed together and he turned to you, taking his step beside you. "But I do agree with you that if she were to expect so much for doing so little, maybe she could use a breath for a career change." And you groaned when you saw your name spanned across a total of three rows. A 24-hours graveyard shift is just what you need when you are nearly finishing your report for the drug trials.
"I'm glad we see eye-to-eye on that, Dr. Y/N." He commented, eyeing the board too till you noticed that he is on a rotation shift with you. "I will meet you later at my office at 6 p.m. Apologies for the sudden shift of timing, I was just paged in this morning for two emergency surgeries." Just a while ago, the Zayne that fits the rumours for being stern and cold had dissolved, his eyes held a ruminating gaze as it landed on you for a brief moment. Especially when he apologised for the timing, eventhough he does not have to.
You looked up at him, a small smile grazing past your lips. "Sure, I have my rotation in ER now anyways." You snapped your finger at the board, pointing at your assigned shift slot and you glided past him, already heading towards your assigned wing, but not without turning your head back, this time your smile widening as you wished him. "Good luck for your surgery, Dr. Zayne."
It was something about your smile, the kind that does not hold any alternating intentions behind it. Just a genuine, self-effacing, laud smile. Zayne sees himself in you, he can see that you too, have had breakthroughs much earlier than people of your age but you held no ego, instead only shown your yearn to learn, your thirst for knowledge and resolution. Much like someone he was once affiliated to. He allowed his stare to linger a little longer than usual, studying your gait silently. So full of confidence and hope in wanting to save mankind with your trial. You are the embodiment of altruism, just like MC.
Time sure did passed by quickly in the ER, with you triaging patient after patient without even keeping track of your time. Now you stood in front of the patient wrapped in bandages, scanning through their charts to determine what is the next course of treatment. Pyro accident. "Start him on acetaminophen and wash and rebandage his wounds. Make sure he is also briefed on how to care for his wounds." You instructed, signing off on the report and handing it to the nurse that was tending to the patient.
A series of beeps came through and you retrieve your pager off of your belt, seeing that Dr. Zayne had paged for you. Your head shot up, immediately searching for a clock till you noticed the time, it is already 6.30 p.m. Shoot. You made a short stop at the nurse counter and informed them that you will be on an early dinner break and you were dismissed. You quickened your pace, heels clicked against the sterile tiled floor as you beelined towards Dr. Zayne's room.
With a knock to announce your presence, you twisted the door knob and pushed open the door, already ready to apologise for being tardy. "Dr. Zayne, I apologise---"
"It must have been a long shift is it?" He finished your sentence and you caught sight of him, sitting in his chair with exemplary posture as he is typing away on his laptop. His glasses are perched on his nose now, face was relaxed but his stare held an amount of intensity as he scanned the screen.
"Yeah, an accident happened near Bloom Street and the whole ER was flooded this morning." You occupied more space in his office, closing the door behind you. Neutral colours are mainly the theme in his office, with a desk placed in the middle as the centerpiece and awards hung on the walls. Being a neatnik he is, all of the files are arranged and labelled on the racks and shelfs that lines against the walls behind his consult desk. You pulled out the chair opposite him and took a seat. "I would still like to apologise for making you wait."
The typing stopped, silence immediately taking over the room's atmosphere and his laptop closed with a thud. He has finally looked up and you wondered if the feeling at the pit of your stomach was due to anxiety or relief. With the lack of his facial expressions, it was hard to tell if he was being mad or neutral. "Have you eaten yet?" Zayne asked, the only question he could muster after noticing that you were late for the meetup with him.
Despite the meetup was to discuss about the list of patients eligible for the drug trials and for him to run through some feedback regarding your report, it could wait. He may be stern but he does not lack rationale. When you went silent, it further confirmed his assumption of your last meal. He then got out of his seat and grabbed his phone. "Come on, let's grab something to eat from the cafeteria. You must be starving."
He does not even allow you to respond and he is already out of the room. You stood up and went after him, tailing him like a lost puppy. "I actually don't feel that hungry, Dr. Zayne." You muttered, stopping in front of an elevator and he pressed onto the button to call for the elevator.
"Dr. y/n, I think we both know that being hungry is not going to help any of us through the graveyard shift." His comment got you to look at him and he directly addressed the floating question above your head. "Yes I was rescheduled to be in the graveyard shift with you." And you smiled. The smile that resembles comfort, a relief washing over you when you knew that you are not going to be the only doctor on the whole floor.
Zayne caught your smile within the range of his peripheral vision and his heart skipped a beat. Little did you know, he was the one who asked for the shift change because he could see the dread splashed across your features when you noticed your shift. After studying the schedule, the esteemed doctor decided to take up the shift with you so he could offer a helping hand and maybe, just maybe get to know you a little more.
He only recalled the look on the nurse's face when he asked for his name to be added to the graveyard shift alongside your name and his reasoning being 'two doctors should be working on the same shift to support one another' and with him being a typical pedant, he even threw in the benefits of having two doctors on call for a graveyard shift and how it would tip the benefit for the housed patients. The nurse had probably lost him on the first reasoning when she had barely tilted her head to acknowledge the remainder of his explanation. But it did piqued her interest on why a man of such authority would bother to overexplain himself over a shift change.
Fast forward to the middle of the night, where beepings of machines filled the empty hallways of the hospital and occasional snores travelled through pipelines. The night is a quiet one without any code blues blaring nor any new admittance into the ER unit. You were holed up in Dr. Zayne's office, going through charts with him on the leather sofa. Reports, sheets, patient charts and lists are scattered across the coffee table, an unusual mess to be found in Zayne's office.
He sat next to you, another report in his hand as he studied it. The silence shared between the both of you are comfortable enough till he broke it. "Your trial so far has been reflecting good results. Why you have not submitted it to the board yet?" A part of him even felt foolish for wanting to add his list of patients into your trial list despite you had already amounted to a good amount of participants and the results had surpassed with flying colours.
Your tongue darted out, licking your dried lips nervously as you laid down the file in your hand. You leaned back, shifting into a more comfortable position and you faced him, a sigh leaving your lips. "The last conversation that we had in the train was relevant. My test subjects have the protocore syndrome but it is not as severe as what your patients are experiencing." He could see the hesitation within your eyes. "I wanted to include your patients in the list because I want to know that this drug could cure patients even if they are bracketed within the 'beyond help' area."
Zayne said nothing, but he too, turned to face you. The small desk lamp placed on the coffee table casted a warm glow against one side of your face. Your gaze had fell onto your hands, the doubt lingered like a cloud above your head. Zayne felt heavy in his heart. He sees the ache you are going through. And if he could reach over and wipe the frown off of your face now, he would. But he could not. He was unsure.
Unsure if he should pursue his curiosity to know you better. Or to avoid your entirely because you held such striking resemblance to MC. His mouth moved before his mind could even form sentences. "That's noble of you, y/n." The way you could make him override all forms of logic baffles him, but he is not rejecting the idea of it.
When your eyes moved to catch his, the heaviness in his heart lifted in an instant. The gleam of hope in your stare is something he could never see from the eyes of MC whenever she talks to him. It made Zayne wonder if you held the same amount of curiosity for him as he does for you. That if you thought that the both of you could venture into something else more than just being professional.
Hearing the man in front of you addressing your name without any formality, you were taken aback, but it clings to you like a warm sun in the middle of winter. Your crush for Zayne had not just been from pure appraisal, but it also hangs in the meagre moments like this, where he praises you out of the blue, or takes initiatives to spend time with you despite the rumours of his coldness towards everyone else. It makes you feel special and gosh, you are falling harder.
His hazel-green orbs had darkened under the lack of proper lighting, so did his voice. It was smooth, softer and much more genuine. He knew that falling for you may tabulate the same results as it did with MC, where he was left with disconsolation. But he is not going to let his experience with another ruin the chances of staring anew with you. HR may not be fond of internal dating amongst doctors, especially for the ones they hold in high regards, but Zayne is not always a sheep.
"Y/n," He calls out your name softly, syllables gliding over his tongue like jello on marble. "If you would allow me to, I would like to get to know you more." You blinked rapidly a few times, unaware of where it was going. "By that, I mean on a more personal note. How does a date sound?"
The night rolls by, two individuals sat within the confines of four walls, witnessed by the moon outside of the window as the man makes the first step to defy the odds of his past that had haunted him. Your gentle smile comes first, followed by a 'I would love that.' But what comes after, was the chill that ran down the edge of his spine, a brutal reminder of a reality he was once in, but was hoping to not encounter again.
CALEB - CYBERCAFE
Caleb has been becoming an addition into your daily life now. Ever since the date took place at the bistro, texts are exchanged very often between the both of you. Although Caleb does initiates his texts most of the time, given he wakes up much earlier than you do, but you certainly reply faster. His schedule does not grant him much freedom to be staring at his phone, but he does reply whenever he could, sometimes at lunch time, sometimes before he goes on sweep out missions and sometimes in the middle of the night when he is finally home.
A thing to applaud though, was that despite his irregular timing for replies, it never lacked sincerity. It was never done in a hasty manner. He never texts back for the sake of replying, but he texts for the sake of reassuring you that your texts had never gone unread nor just seen, but it was viewed meticulously, and his replies are generated with thoughts that came from his interest in you. A trait of his that you had came to appreciate, making up for his slow replies.
"You had been smiling at your phone like an idiot for the past hour." Simone commented, deft fingers picking at the small components on the blast cannon she is working on repairing. Her technical goggles shielded her vision, numbers and datas strewn across the visor, showing statistics she loves to fumble with. But certainly, she did not miss out on your antics. "I assume the date had went well."
Her comment made you bite your lip out of embarassment and a lightbulb moment occurred for you. You leaned forward, pressing your chest against the aluminium table of hers and you asked. "Did uhm...Caleb said anything to you?"
Simone's hand halted and she looked up, pushing the goggles up to perch it on the top of her head and she smirked. As if she had gotten you falling right into the trap. "Nope, not really. Other than a thank you for not introducing him to someone who would flake him."
"So how many girls have you introduced him to exactly?" You tilted your head. Out of his fourteen dates, you wondered how many girls she had set him up with. It may just come off to be a harmless question, yet you could feel a foreign feeling swelling in between your chest cavity. You were almost certain it was jealousy.
Simone looked up at the ceiling, fingers lifting out one-by-one as she calculated. "I think only a handful, maybe around 10 of them." Your heart sank and it showed in your expression but Simone was conscious enough to see the change. "He asked for dates and so I just provided him details of my friends." She circled over to your side and hugged you, a cackle leaving her lips. "All of the ones I introduced turned out to be a bunch of flops. But hey! Guess we got a silver lining afterall."
Your phone got a ping and you looked down. Speaking of the man himself, he had just replied to you. He must be on his lunch break now as his replies are rather responsive.
"Fine, fine, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone and get back to my one true love." Simone whined, leaving your side and heading back to her mechanical 'lover' laying flat on the table. She put her goggles back on and added. "Oh, to add on, Caleb also did mentioned that you are the best date he had been with for a long time. To me, that sounds like the colonel is falling hard for you, ooohhh."
You could not help your lips from twitching into a smile and you got back to your computer, statistics showing the latest weapon lineup testings beckoning for you to tend to them but your phone stole your attention.
Once the message was sent, it was immediately seen and you saw the typing bubble emerging, the three grayed out dots an indicator of him typing on his phone. Then came his reply.
You felt it, the tug at your heartstrings when you read through his message. You thought that he was on a mission as he did mentioned a couple days ago that things would start getting hectic as there are new recruits joining in the Fleet and he will have to monitor them for their progress. You did not bother responding to his message because it has been a while since you had met him. One week to be exact and him pulling a last minute date move is clearly a good plan.
"I will clock out early today." You informed Simone, saving the progress on your computer before you log out of it. The girl on the table sent you a knowing look, her goggles once again pushed up and she winked at you, as if telling you to leave without having to worry. And you did.
Caleb stared at his phone, no text bubbles floating, no typing indicator. He stood outside of the building you work in, phone in hand and with a burning desire to meet you. Yet, another feeling lingered. More like the feeling of nostalgia. He knew this building all too well. He used to walk MC home when she is done with her shift. Back when things were still going well between the both of them.
He stood at the same spot, the same crack in the asphalt still a witness to his changes till now. Caleb once left the building premise like a man with a hollow shell. But now as he returned, that shell of his is slowly being filled. But how he wished that he did not have to step foot into this space again. "Caleb!" A shout of his name snapped him out of his depressing reverie and he looked up. Same name but came from a different source. The bitter aftertaste from his memories slowly fading.
He put on a smile almost immediately, watching you as you emerged from the revolving glass turnstile. A huge grin plastered on your face as you quickened your pace towards him. "Hey, pip---" He stopped himself, his hand consciously coming up to slap it across his mouth before he could spit out that sureptitious word. If he could punch himself in the face now and act like nothing happened, he would have done it. But he could not so he played it cool by moving his hands to the back of his neck, smile still on his face. "Y/n."
"Thanks for stopping by." You smiled, eyes curving into two small crescents and he nodded. You took a few seconds to eye his outfit, a simple dark grey hoodie with jeans. He looks casual, makes you wonder if he had just gotten a change of clothes prior to coming here. Hence, the question. "So, why are you here? I thought you were supposed to be dealing with the new recruits in the Fleet."
"Yeah, the placements were done just this afternoon and I had the weekend off so I decided to pay you a visit." He explained, studying your outfit at the same time. This is the first time he has seen you in your uniform afterall. But it was the same as the one MC would always sport, other than the different emblem that sets you to be part of the engineering team rather than the hunter team. He blinked a few times, trying to push the undue thoughts to the back of his mind.
"Hey...you okay?" You tilted your head, noticing that he went silent for a moment, his stare lingered a bit too long for it to be noticed as admiration to your outfit. But it is not weird enough for you to call him a pervert either. It was almost as if he had a ghost of a frown hidden right beneath that gentle smile of his. "Is there something on my uniform?"
"Oh don't worry about it." He replied, his gaze snapped back to yours. Those purple irises blending with the warm-orange tone of the sunset, it almost made him look ethereal. Almost, if only he was a passerby you did not went on a date with, you may just believe that he is an ethereal being. Not Caleb, the colonel you are having a big crush on. "Have you been to a cybercafe?"
Your eyes widened, jaw dropped open slightly when he came up with the idea. It has been a while since you had stepped foot into a cybercafe. Ever since work has been taking up most of the time of your day. "Yeah, when I was in high school." You blushed, unsure if you should tell him about your days back in high school. Those missed classes and rebellious attitude may be a turn off to him. You are afterall, trying to keep up a good impression for him.
"Lemme guess." He hummed, noticing the slight flush coming onto your cherubic cheeks, the smile of his turning into a smirk as he leaned down to you, a finger pressed onto your forehead like a teacher reprimanding a student. "You skipped classes to go for the cybercafe?" And your pout betrayed you, making the man throw his head back laughing.
Seeing him laughing like that should be a crime. Who could even make a laughter sound so good? Apparently this colonel can. "It is not within the list of things I am proud of achieving." You crossed your arms, acting to be annoyed. And his laughter slowly dies down, his hand coming up to pat you on your shoulder. A subtle touch that is like scorching fire to your skin.
"It's okay y/n, we all have histories we are not proud of. But, sometimes, it takes a sinner to know one." His tease landed a playful punch against his shoulder and you walked past him, not wishing to entertain and he turned in suit. Keeping up with you is easy with his long legs acting as an advantage. "Okayyy, okay I'll stop teasing you." He walks next to you, shoving his hands into his pockets as the cold wind blows by.
The walk towards the cybercafe is a rather relaxing one. Casual conversation filled the space between the both of you, about work, about some ongoing gossips in your office space and about some missions that he is allowed to disclose. It felt too familiar, as if you had been friends with Caleb for a long time. To you, it is not hard for you to imagine how things would blossom between the both of you if such dynamics are kept up continously. And honestly, you are already looking forward to it and you are ready to accept it.
Caleb watches you as you walked beside him, your hands by your side as you walked and it amused him of how small sized you are compared to him. There were no tension, just a comfortable silence shared between the both of you but the man wished he could just grab your hand right now and shove it into his pockets. But he knew, taking this too quickly may bring more harm than good so he chose to be patient. To be more observant of your responses, both verbal and nonverbal. Yet, there also gnawed a sense of denial within his heart that he is not ready to address. Not yet.
Once the both of you had arrived at the cybercafe, you offered to pay for the session but Caleb beat you to it, charming the counter girl to believe that chivalry is not dead. With that, the second date commences. The both of you grabbed a PC each, seated next to each other and immediately, you took a trip down memory lane, looking through the variety of games available. "Have you played Call of Duty?"
Caleb paused, eyes sweeping over to catch yours glinting with competitiveness. There is no way you suggested a game that he is good at in real life. "Are you kidding me?" He tilted his head, throwing his arms up in the air in a dramatic manner. "Whoever that had never played that game should be ashamed of themselves." His theatrics got you laughing and you booted up the game. "You asked for it, don't expect me to go easy on you, okay?"
You leaned over to him, your breath close enough to bat against his cheek. "I don't expect you to at all, don't worry colonel." The way you addressed his formal position got his heart skipping a beat. The word rolling off of your lips so casually, that he barely caught on to the teasing tone. Caleb enjoys the new nickname coming from you.
As the game goes on, the both of you had forgotten about the setting of a date. The competition for one to get the most amount of frags would be hailed the champion. Caleb only two kills behind you but he was chilling in his seat. His big palms maneuvering the mouse expertly across the span of the mousepad, his eyes trained on the enemy's head, aiming solely for the sake of one tap kills. But he sees you, back hunched over, eyes only inches away from the screen, lips darting out every once in a while as your head turns the way your cursor turns. Surely, you are taking this very seriously.
So Caleb decided to slack, to be a gentleman and handing you victory on a silver platter. A game is just a game and Caleb has no intention of winning over you to begin with. The man just watched you as the game is nearing the end, not even bothering to continue the game and only wanting to admire you from a close distance. He also takes this time to process his feelings, to determine if you could be the one he is looking for.
Caleb knows it very well that seeing the reflection of MC in you is distasteful but he could not deny that he is falling hard for you. From the day the first date happened, he could not deny it. The nights he struggled to fall asleep, dreaming of scenarios that had once taken place with MC but in his dream, he is reenacting it with you. Losing MC was like losing a piece of him, an important one and if Caleb is seeking for someone to patch that up, he is not going to settle it with one night stands nor a rebound. The man holds more restrain than anyone else and he does not see casual relationships to be a fix. He wants someone that he can learn to trust again, and to be able to put his faith in her entirely. And maybe, just maybe, you are the answer to his prayers.
You are beautiful, witty, kind and fit every preference he wants in a girl. But he knew that now, all that is left is himself, a barrier of forgotten memories he has to overcome by himself. If things do progress, he will have to let go of MC and Caleb was still unsure of it. Part of him is ready for it, to end the suffering. But another part of him yearns for the past, to settle on a hope he can never quench.
"Suck it!" Your victorious shout got him smiling, chin now perched on his knuckle when he leaned closer to you. Close enough to look at your screen, but not close enough for you to notice yet. Your little celebratory dance came afterwards and he chuckled, watching his sacrifice blossoming in your happiness. "I beat you afterall!"
And you turned your head and your breath caught in your throat. He is close, so close that you can see the shadows of his eyelashes casting a gloom over his dark violet irises. His expression was relaxed, but you could not read his thoughts, those eyes of his shrouded in a mist of mystery. "Congratulations, I knew you are better than me." His hand then came up and he casually brushed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "Good job."
The hair tuck and the compliment coming from him made you drop your eye contact, your belly stirring and your ears turning mauve red. "Thanks..." Your voice had trailed off, too abashed to comment anything further. Caleb calls out your name softly and you raised your head again, now looking at his lips so you get to distract yourself but also being polite enough to face him as he called out to you.
"Y/n." When your eyes landed on his lips, he used his index finger to put it under your chin and guide your head upwards a little more, so he could look into your eyes. The eyes that held such tender emotions towards him. The cyber cafe is quieter now, chatters of other players falling behind into white noise. "I know the nature of my job may make it hard for us to schedule for dates. But I want to keep it up with you, even with my shitty schedule."
His voice was raw, unfiltered. A vulnerability that slipped past those thin lips of his. His gaze softened, reflecting hopefulness. It does not stop your stomach from stirring, but it got time to stop temporarily as you take in his confession. "Caleb..." You started, unsure of how to respond to not make it seem like you are already head over heels for him. Caleb readjusted his touch, removing his finger from your chin and reached over, scooting closer to you and his bigger hand came in contact with yours, thumb brushing against the back of your hand, just a brief touch for reassurance.
He could not look at you, he could not bear to witness a rejection coming from you so he watched your hand, his thumb smoothed over the supple skin of the back of your hand. You took a deep breath and continued, wanting to break the tension and for once, act without overthinking. "I will always wait for you, Caleb."
A sigh of relief escaped from the cavity of his chest and he looked at you again, grinning. In the quiet glow of the cybercafe, surrounded by strangers hollering over monitors, the both of you had settled into the silence shared only between the two of you. An understanding for both ends; you gaining a newfound feeling triggered by Caleb while he anticipates a new journey with someone whom he believes would fix him and allow him to pour his heart into.
XAVIER - CONVENIENCE STORE
The breeze for today's morning has been exceptionally fresh. Maybe you had forgotten to close your windows the night before and the morning rain had splashed dewdrops across your window sills, bringing in the scent of earthy freshness. Perhaps, it could also be a result of placebo, given that today is the day you will be meeting Xavier for a second date. It was expected given your last face-to-face conversation took place a month ago at the friend gathering of yours.
You were looking forward to this meeting, but it does not settle your nerves any better as the period of 30 days is more than enough for you to realise that you have a crush on that blonde bloke. Staring up blankly at your ceiling, you had just silenced your alarm a while ago and your mind begin to ponder. Drifting off to what you are planning to wear for the date later and what are some viable topics that you can converse with him about.
A steady vibration came through your phone and with lightning speed, you grabbed your device and stared at the notification that presented on your screen, already disappointed at the lack of Xavier's name on it. A 50% coupon at a hotpot store could not even gather your excitement anymore. Nothing matters other than his texts. But it would be untimely for him to text you at this hour, as you noticed that his circadian rhythm usually starts around noon timing. It also made you wondered if his hunter training was that strenuous that it affected his sleep.
Speaking of the devil, another vibration came and much to your surprise, Xavier's name lit up on your screen in the form of a phone call and you fumbled, sliding the green button to answer his call. "Hello?" You tried your best to not sound so groggy through the phone.
"Hey, y/n." He was slurring with his voice and you could almost imagine him rubbing his eyes lazily as he had just woken up, still bundled up in his bedsheets. "You still up for the date for today?"
"Yeah!" You chirped, slightly cringing at the sudden burst of your own energy. "I was about to text you to ask what did you plan to do today?"
There was a short pause on the other end of the line, with Xavier thinking of places to go with you. With a short hum, he replied. "I recently found out that there is this new coffee shop in the town area. Would you be okay with that?" He raised one of his brows, hoping that you would not think that a coffee date would be lame.
"Yeah, I think that sounds good. I will meet you there?" You are already pushing yourself off of your bed. Mind and limbs alike, already anticipating to meet him in a short while. As you bid each other goodbyes, a call of your name again stopped you from pressing the big red button on the screen.
"Y/n." Your name sounded so gentle coming off from him, a trait you had came to like. "I can't wait to see you." And the line went dead. So did your heartbeat. There is no way Xavier just said that line through the call, it has to be deemed illegal. Illegal as in it could kill you easily. You could have said it, but your mind was in overdrive, not wanting to scare Xavier off. But his straightforwardness definitely solidified your feels to him.
Stepping out of your house with a sundress may be an overkill but you could care less. This is an important date and as an overachiever, you would want to dress to impress. The streets are usually buzzing with liveliness, a normal noon on the weekends beckons for locals and tourists to visit the shopping district. You navigated with the help of your phone, only to suddenly notice dark clouds loomed over the skies. An indicator of rain. And it poured.
Cursing under your breath, you quickened your pace, matching the footsteps of the ones around you to find shade. Great, just a downpour needed to ruin your dress. You frowned as you find shade and tried to get the rain droplets off of your arms, the bottom half of your dress now sticking to your skin uncomfortably. "Y/n?" A call of your name by a familiar voice.
Xavier appeared in front of you like a knight in shining armor, minus the noble steed but replaced with an umbrella. The downpour casted a grey filter over his features but not enough to filter out that grin of his. He walked over to you, shorter strides to prevent puddles from splashing till he took a stand next to you. "I'm glad that I brought my umbrella out." He shrugged off his trench coat and layered it over you, not even batting his eyelashes to linger on your soaked dress.
"I didn't know it was going to rain and judging by this downpour, I don't think we can reach the coffee shop without getting soaked." You muttered, looking up at him to find him thinking hard, eyebrows creasing and lips still askewed. He was about to say that he would not mind getting wet till you beat him to his trail of thoughts. "And the last thing I want is for both of us to get a cold."
Xavier started to glance around, trying to figure out an alternative till he noticed the convenience store that stood right behind them. "How about we change our plans for today?" Lifting his hand, he gestured to the well-lit store behind them, the well-packed aisles of snacks and convenience food, with cheap instant coffee retailing to be made out of 'best' Arabica beans and a warm environment beckoning for them to enter.
"Guess we don't have any other choice." Your eyes flit back to his eyes and it curved upwards slightly, the smile taking over your features again. It was an understanding smile, knowing that there are no other options left for them during this storm. Shifting their feet, both of you moved into the premises of the store. Inside, everything was garish with the overhead lights that hung on the ceiling. But it was oddly comforting and cozy, with the heaters humming softly in the background and the short ding of the door when it closes and provides a warmer place of refuge for the both of you.
Xavier beelined towards the aisles filled with food and beverage and he started getting busy. Eyes trained onto labels of the displayed food, in search for the right food to kickstart the date. "Do you have any preferences for instant noodles?" He casually asked, eyeing you while you scanned the aisles. A huge flash and a crack of thunder got you yelping in response and added on with your natural clumsiness, you tripped over your own feet and fell.
Right into his arms. His left arm secured around your waist and his body leaned down slightly towards yours to catch you during the momentum of your fall. "Are you okay?" He briefly scanned you, gaze held more worry than judgement. "You're scared of thunder?" You could feel your cheeks heating up at his observation. The close proximity between the both of you felt very intimate despite being in a public scene. All it needs was a romance theme song and this may very well fit into a cliche romance movie.
"Sorry." Apologising, you straightened yourself and awkwardly tried to brush invisible dust off of your dress' neckline. A fidget clear enough to indicate your awkwardness. "I don't do well with loud booming sounds." You bit your lip nervously and aimed your gaze downwards. Your fear of thunder was childish, but it was unavoidable. You had tried all costs, listening to ASMR with sudden metal clangs for interruption, going to lengths of trying to sit yourself still in a tent under a stormy day in hopes of treating yourself. But it was all to no avail. All of those efforts were still proven to be useless amidst a stormy day with booming thunder.
Right when the self doubt is increasing in volume within the capacity of your head space, a soft warming touch came to your cheeks, bringing you back to the present. Xavier's hands are on your cheeks now, cupping it lightly as to not stress you out further. His fingers were long, outstretched to cup over your ears too. "It's okay. You don't have to apologise because of your fear of thunder." He reassured you, eyes the colour of the calm blue sea seeped into your vision when you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes. "I can't call off storms, but I can at least help them make it more bearable for you."
It was overwhelming, the warmth that enveloped you. His thumb slowly traced your cheek, helping you to wipe off the tear that slid down your cheek. You did not realise that you were crying, but Xavier could see it. The tear that stained your rubicund cheeks, the gaze of yours that held nothing but gratefulness. Seeing you in such a state, he wanted to protect you, to grant you comfort during storms just so you would not cower away from him. "Thank you, Xavier." You thanked him, hands coming up to cover over his bigger ones.
In the middle of the aisles, lined with snacks and convenience food, you could feel a new sense of emotions blooming within your heart. It could not be a mere coincidence where you both met at a party and that on a date, happenings just kept pulling the both of you closer towards one another. Not that you minded it. And it was an added bonus given the way Xavier treats you with such care, you are afraid you may break in front of him rather than the contrary statement.
On Xavier's end, he too, felt an emotion within him bloomed. It was a foreign one but albeit a phase he had gone through before. Not to mention the pain that got dragged along with it afterwards. He could feel his thumb froze against her supple cheeks for a moment when he recalled the memories of it. His ignorance however, won this time as he urged himself to forgo the longlost memory and to focus on y/n. He slowly drops his hand from your cheek and this time, holding onto your hands, hovering it over his lips.
He gave it a small kiss, right onto your knuckle. A smile everpresent on his handsome features and you could feel your cheeks heating up yet again. Only he would know if you looked like a fresh tomato at this point. "I'd like to be around you more, y/n." His tone came off as a question, but a hidden statement. One you could not resist for you bear the same feelings he has. "Even through storms or any weather."
You tightened your grip on his palms and nodded a few times. No words were exchanged between the both of you because there is not a need to. The stars are aligning and the both of your hearts are coming to a sync, Xavier truly believes that you shall be the light to his oncoming path. His eye smile reminiscent of the stars that twinkled in the depths of the night, the longing for a love that goes both ways no longer just a wish but now a foreseen truth.
į“į“Źį“ į“É“į“ Źį“Źį“!
Hope this long read is a good breather for all of my readers, the fluff is actually really cute :) I do plan to make a next part but I am still deciding on how MC has affected the guys, lemme know what u think!
Preview: It was always her in his eyes. A girl that nobody could top over. But years past and the feelings he felt towards MC felt like a shadow of someone else's. A void he could not fill till he realised that MC is never the one for him. It has always been you. Now, he stands at The Exit, standing in the same shoes as you once were.
Warnings: Caleb x nonmc!, Heart crushing angst. Story based on reader's and Caleb's POV. This is gonna be a lengthy read. Reader yearns, Caleb yearns, everyone yearns.
Notes: An angst bomb requested by @arahiraaai featuring Caleb! She wanted the song The Exit by Conan Gray to be featured for this piece! Thanks for your request and I realised that I never actually wrote this storyline before although Caleb x MC's dynamic is clearly asking for it. Hope you like this, my lovely!
February brought upon the end of spring season. Winter trees that had blossomed in full bloom throughout the months are starting to wither away, bringing about the start of the a new season. Flowers that lined the brick pathway however, were still standing tall and proud, bearing petals of variable colours and are seemingly not afraid of wilting. Or that was what you chose to believe.
Clad in your high school uniform, you sat cross legged on a wooden bench set within your school's garden ---mostly used for herb gardening for the cafeteria's usage--- as you waited for your classmate's arrival. "Y/N!" A shout of your name got you tilting your head up, catching the sun's gentle rays shining upon the brunette jogging over to you.
Bedraggled hair accompanied with a wide charming smile, that is Caleb alright. He had his bag lazily swung over his one shoulder and his sweater fitted over his broad shoulders. "Why are you sitting out here? It's still cold out!" He exclaimed, eyeing you as if you're an alien. "Here. Take this." Without much thought, he removed his jacket and leaned down, layering it over your shoulders gently. "Don't want you catching a cold now, do we?"
His closeness got you blushing, averting your gaze as you muttered a silent thank you under your breath as he draped his oversized jacket over you. It smelled like him, the waft of muskiness with a blend of apple sweetness to the ends of the note. He was using the deodorant that you had purchased for him afterall. The key giveaway being the apple scented notes. "Caleb!" A familiar voice called out and you turned to face the source.
MC stood in a distance, waving her arms like she is flagging down a plane towards Caleb and you can see the way he reacted to her. Just like how a crush would; eyes widening and teeth showing and tail wagging. He looked more excited to see her than you. She approached, greeting you with a smile too as she casually asked, the question clearly directed to Caleb. "Are you ready to go?"
Your eyes darted in between Caleb and her, in a slight state of shock. Did Caleb not told her about the promises made between the two of you? Where he had promised to walk you home everyday? You could not blame her when she had only moved here. "Y/N, you would not mind right? If she tagged along? She is my neighbour afterall." His question got you even more flabbergasted but how could you say no. So you agreed to it.
A squeal of excitement followed and you stood up, trailing next to Caleb as you hear the both of them chattered away. MC had only moved here a few months back, but you had noticed, the way that they had instantly knocked off, seemingly having endless interesting topics to talk about. Before her, it has only ever been you and Caleb. The inseparable duo that your classmates had claimed. Not that you minded the tag name either.
But now, perspectives had shifted, roles had been turned around and you are like the newcomer now instead of her. Whispers and rumours had started to float around, of Caleb possibly having a crush on MC. It does not take a genius to notice that, how he would always ask her about homework, hang around her during recess times and now, walk her home. All of which were activities that were reserved solely for you.
Your footsteps slowed, a huge contrast towards your heartbeat that was speeding up. Caleb has never seen you the way you had seen him and you were about to slap yourself for how stupid it seemed. All of the activities that he had done with her held meaning while towards you, it is only restricted to 'because that is what friends do for one another'. You released a shaky breath and looked up, watching Caleb walking so closely next to MC, arms dangled by his sides and his laughter that had brightened her atmosphere.
At that moment a sense of inferiority enveloped you and it made you wanted to disappear into his sweater even more as you wrapped it tighter around your small figure. Just like that, you felt like you were just the one tagging along on the journey home.
Now it's November. It has been two years since you had last diminished the hesitation of Caleb liking you. You sat in the cafeteria, staring out at the clouds that hung low outside of the huge panes of windows. The coffee that sat in front of you half-empty, settling within the coolness of the weather. Caleb sat next to you, fiddling with the necklace that MC had purchased for him. "Thanks for staying back with me, y/n."
"It's okay, it's not like I've got anything to do out of the DAA anyways." You lied blatantly, facing him to catch his gaze and you could see it. The reflection of you within his amethyst orbs. His hand dropped the necklace and he stared back, a small smile grazed over his lips. You tore your gaze away out of abashment, but also knowing if you stayed still for a moment more, you may have blurted out your crush to him. "You should get going."
"What about you?" He asked, bending himself lower to get a better look at your face. "What are you going to do when I am back in Linkon?" His tone held genuine concern, but it only resonated as pity towards you. You do not seek for that from him nor do you feel that you are worthy of it. "Y/n, why don't you---"
You pushed yourself off of the metal bench, hands steadying yourself against the table. "Stop worrying about me, Caleb." You sighed, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose. "I am no longer the same girl from high school. I can take care of myself." Your sudden outburst got the man blinking his eyes a couple of times, taken aback.
He only has good intentions afterall, wanting to invite you to join in as a form of gratitude. You remembered the way your heart sank when you found out the reason for his extension was to bring MC around Sky Haven. Given the start of their new relationship, it is no doubt that they are now in a honeymoon phase. Although you had foresee this happening ever since high school, you held onto your emotions, patiently awaiting for him.
Perchance, he may acknowledge that you had always been loving him from the sidelines, supporting him both emotionally and physically. Joining the DAA was the sole decision you made to hopefully get closer to him when you heard that MC was going for the Hunter's Association. But your plan to close the distance had only been ruined by their distance. For the distance is what makes their hearts grew fonder.
You had thought of it, spamming through sleepless nights just watching the ceiling and wondering if you should just tell him about how long you had loved him for. Yet, your results always ended up with a no. Because you could not bear to lose him, especially when you had already lost his affection. Naive you were simply holding onto a chance for a relationship that you could never afford.
A faint beep was heard and footsteps thudded inwards. You already knew she was here judging by how loud the bench screeched across the tiled floor and Caleb anxiously calling out her name. Sitting yourself back down, you flashed his girlfriend a smile ---small enough for it to be passed as being polite--- and sipped onto the remnants of your instant coffee. The taste even bitter than what you had first tasted.
Caleb hurtled back over to you and landed his hand on top of your head, nearly getting you choking onto your coffee. "I know you would not want to be the third wheel, but the least I can do is actually thank you for spending time with me, aite?" He patted your head, ruffling your hair twice in a gentle manner. A gesture like that in front of his girlfriend? He must have been out of his mind. But seeing MC bearing a set of wide eyes, she may have just been mimicking yours.
The gentle touch was all it takes to set you back to square one, your heart blossoming once again like the first spring that came about. Reminding you of the moments when you had first met Caleb. But you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, once his hand left the top of your head, you watched his figure rejoicing with his girlfriend. "Let's go, pips." He even addressed her with such an odd nickname, how typical of him.
His girlfriend quickly regained composure and smiled delightfully at him. Though she did not take much offense to what Caleb had done as she knew that the both of you had always been good friends long before she came. She slung her arms around his and leaned in to press a light kiss against his shoulder blade. An affectionate move to her but it seemed like a sense of possessiveness to you. Oddly enough, it did not come off to be that much of an eye sore to you already.
As they were walking towards the exit, MC turned, glancing at you for a fragment of a second and she noticed. The tears that pooled at the edge of your eyes and the longing look that you held as Caleb leaves. Your mind was too muddled, not even realising that MC had seen through your facade. Their footsteps receeded out of the cafeteria in sync. Thus, so did your yearning for him, when you found out that you had been stuck loving a version of him that would only be exclusive to your memories. That it is time for you to erase those memories.
After the holidays, Caleb realised that you had not been attending any of your classes. And it took him through the span of two days to notice it before he decides to call you. But it went straight to voicemail. He checked the dorm list to find your name crossed out. Checked the class systems to notice that your name is no longer registered. It was like you had vanished into thin air. Even worse, he does not even know what was the reason behind it.
Asking the others were not fruitful either as you were the last one left behind at the dorms. However, Gideon seemed unfazed when he was asked where you had went. Almost as if he predicted this to happen. "Do you know something I don't?" Caleb plopped himself down onto the bed of his dorm mate's, palms facing up and an inquisitive look hung on his face.
Gideon rotated in his chair and bent down, pulling open a cabinet and fishing out what looked to be an envelope. Pristine white and uncrumpled. "Not as thorough as you searching through the database. Y/N stopped by my house a couple of days ago and asked me to hand you this letter." He eyed it briefly and reached it out towards Caleb. "It seems like there's something else inside too."
Amethyst orbs scanned the letter. The black ink stuck out like a sore thumb against the white envelope. No doubt it was your writing, written in the adorable cursive block-like fonts he used to tease you endlessly about. And the way your E is always written like an inverted 3. He used to call you a mathematics nerd because of that too.
"Did she said anything when she gave you the letter?" He took the letter, weighing it in his huge palms to find something clinking inside of it. You never wrote letters to him, other than the occasional passing post-it-notes across the table in high school to converse with him. He does not have a good feeling about this.
Gideon's eyebrows are closely knitted, ruminating and trying to picture the scenario again in his head. "She asked me to hand it to you and when I asked her about why couldn't she hand it to you herself, she---" He propped his hand against his knuckle and thought about it. But every passing second of his pause makes Caleb's stare turn into a glare. He did not understand a letter handover could agitate him so much.
Maybe it was because you had left without a trace. Maybe it was because he was expecting to see you back in the DAA again once he is back from his holiday so he could share about his experiences during the summer holidays with MC. But why had he expected you to be around, when he already had MC? Something is not adding up to himself. "Spill it Gideon." A borderline command got the cropped hair lad sitting straight in his seat.
"Okay, chill! I was thinking man!" He raised his hands up in defeat and continued. "She just said that some things are better left unsaid...?" Shrugging his shoulders, that was the best his memory could muster. "But, I definitely remember she does not look good."
"Like?" Caleb pressed, leaning forward to hear more of what Gideon has to offer. It boggled Caleb that Gideon was the one to be able to see you for the last time before he could.
Gideon is back to thinking mode. "She just seemed...done I guess." Y/N looking like she was done when she handed the letter to Gideon, which was addressed to Caleb is a sign clear as day. It hung like a question mark at the back of his mind, but with Caleb being his stubborn self, he chose not to entertain it. Not yet. Not now. "Speaking of which, it's been a day or two since I've seen her around. What happened to her anyways? Why did you have to search for her records in the school's system?"
So Gideon was not predicting this to happen, which puts him on the same boat as Caleb and there goes a dead lead. But, the letter in his hand could be the only answer he needs. "I was just looking for her." Optimally, Caleb did not disclose anything to Gideon as he was already subconsciously upset at the fact you left him hanging at a bunch of question marks he could not answer. "Thanks Gideon." Standing up, the brunette sauntered out of the room with what remained of you in his grip.
Back in his room, Caleb laid down onto the bed and instead of tearing open the letter immediately, he pulled out his phone and dialed your number again. In hopes that maybe after a few hours you may finally pick up. The line rang, then a sudden pause. Voicemail directly. He tried it maybe another 10 more times and when it came to no avail, he tossed his phone aside and held the letter up in front of his face.
Caleb had never been afraid of the dark, but shrouded in the darkness of his room now, his thoughts began to wonder and he felt uneasy. The letter in his hand beckoning to his curiosity, speaking in tongues that directly touches the deepest part of his heart. Right when he was about to open up the flap, his phone lit up and deftly turned on his side to pick it up. Only to find that MC had texted him about the cleaning instructions for the necklace.
He had asked for cleaning instructions for the necklace a few hours back ---before he starts going on a manhunt for you--- as he does not want it to be tarnished in rust. Suddenly, he was no longer interested in the cleaning manual that his girlfriend had sent over. He sighed, rolling onto his back again and flipped open the flap of your letter.
A clink and a thud, something metallic fell out of the envelope and hit the ground. He sat up and leaned down to retrieve it off of the floor but his hand hovered mid-air. The necklace that sat on the floor is identical to the one he is proudly wearing now. The gleam of silver refracting the sunlight coming in through the slither of his curtains. It was uncanny, that you had purchased the same necklace as MC did.
Confused, Caleb took out the letter that came inside the envelope, all arranged and labelled neatly with numbers at the bottom right of the pages. One may think that this was typed out on Microsoft Words and printed out. But labelling has always been a y/n's specialty. He eyed the necklace on the ground and picked it up, holding it within his palms and he started to read through the letter.
Hi Caleb,
If you're reading this letter, you might have figured out about my disappearance. Firstly, I would like to apologise. For not telling about this upfront. Do not take this personally as I think that it is time we should both part from one another.
I know you might be wondering why. If you look into the envelope, there will be an identical necklace to the one that you are currently wearing. I bought it for you a few years back, before you and MC became official.
I am sorry again for not being able to give that necklace to you. It is mainly because I could not find the courage to. Not when I watch you by the sidelines all the time, being so happy around MC. I was happy for you but it could only take that long before it starts taking a toll on me.
I remembered you asking me why did I joined the DAA with you and although I mentioned that it is my first choice to be a jet fighter just like you, I lied. I joined the DAA because of you. Because I know you always take pride in being an extrovert, but I know the times you would struggle when you feel like someone does not want to hang out with you. I could not sleep just thinking about you bashing yourself up because maybe a Tom does not like you for your big chunky shoulders.
I joined the DAA because I knew MC was going to join the hunter's association despite you had warned her of the risks for her career path. I remembered the times when you would confide in me whenever you have an argument with her. There are certainly times I wish that I could ask you to call off the relationship as I think you deserve better.
But I could not be a bitch. Not when I see you being so genuinely happy around her. The first time she asked to walk home with us, it was the first time I ever felt the weighing feeling of a longing heart. You talked to her as if you had known her longer than me and it was also the start of my loneliness.
That is why I would always refrain from hanging out with you guys. I know you meant well, but I could not get past how you are around her. It makes me feel weird, a feeling I was too young to comprehend. However, as time passes, I eventually figured out that I was in love with you Caleb.
You were my beginning and I have to genuinely thank you for those times when you had always stayed by my side, made me felt special, made me believe in the idea of us. But if I continued staying by your side, I know that you shall be the end of me. That I will always love you while I am slowly losing myself to jealousy and admiration. That I shall end up being someone I never want to be. And I do not want you to witness that side of me.
So with this letter I am going to wish you for all the best in your relationship with MC. I know that she is probably a keeper for you although I may not agree so at times. But as your long time friend, of course I would wish only the best for you. And I am sure you can do it without me. Although we may not blossom into anything else, I know that you will always hold a special place in my heart.
I hope you will honour my decision and wishes through this letter by living your life well with MC. Do not look for me. Just know that I will be fine by my own and it is the best for me to be by myself for now. I love you Caleb, always did and always will. Goodbye.
From,
Y/N.
Caleb's fists clenched, paper crumpling within his grip. His eyes felt heavy, lids closing and face burning. Till a single droplet rolled down his cheek. He is crying. Caleb is sad. Knowing that he has lost his best friend y/n without even getting the chance to say goodbye to her. It was too late now, for time had left his side, and he has no way to reach out to her and to say goodbye to her.
The next few days were quiescent for Caleb. His phone calls with MC had gotten shorter and he caught himself daydreaming through the calls, imagining MC's voice to be less chirpy. To have a softer and gentler tone, and with a slower pace of talking, just like how you had always do it to him. He would find himself wincing uncontrollably when MC says certain words differently than you. "Leb? You listening?" Her voice prompted in the background, snapping him out of his deep reverie.
"Yeah, yeah I am." He muttered, plucking at the dead skin above his nail to keep his mind occupied. "You were saying?" Caleb was sure that she was talking about an upcoming exam for the end of the semester and how she was stressed about the physical exams. "About the end term exams right?"
"Caleb..." His name got trailed off, disappointment clear on the other end of the call. "I finished that topic 20 minutes ago. Were you even listening to me?" No. But poor Caleb could not admit the truth. "What is wrong with you? You had been so out of it recently... Is there something bothering you Leb?" It is only a matter of time before Caleb can be truthful with her, but not now. Not when his wounds are fresh.
"I was just worried about the aviation exam." He lied through the cracks of his teeth and he hated how seamless it was for him to do so. Lying was never one of his best traits but he would rather shoulder his own feelings for now. "Don't worry about me alright?"
He could hear someone holler in the background and rustling ensued. "I gotta go now Leb, Tara is here and it's girls night out!" She exclaimed excitedly and the line went dead after she shouted a casual line of, "I love you!"
For once, the line was caught at the base of his chest. He never hesitated in returning the line to MC but it felt different now. It sat at the bottom of his chest, like an ebullient flame, burning his heart and throat. For once, Caleb had doubted his feelings for MC and wondered back to the days when it was only the two of you, where favours are exchanged and how he would nonchalantly say that he loves you for shouldering the favour.
The comparison had started even before he could comprehend. The first time he had said those three words to MC was as a form of return of the sentence. She said it first and perhaps during then, Caleb returned it as to not make situations awkward. But with you, it had always came naturally. You did not have to ask for it nor to wish for it. It was more towards unexpected instead. Or at least the blush on your cheeks suggested that.
Then the image turned, fast forwarding to the day MC confessed how much Caleb had meant to her and how she would like to see their relationship bloom towards a more intimate stage. The first thing that popped into his mind was 'what about y/n?' but it was cut off with the seal of her lips on his.
The reveal of their relationship to y/n can be described as underwhelming. The way her eyes widened slightly but was quickly set back to its relaxed position. How she nodded and shielded her face with the use of slanted shadows, muttering a soft congratulations to them before she said that she has to buy a cream puff from the cafeteria. The same dessert that Caleb would get for y/n only when she is down. But then, y/n had never needed to go to the cafeteria by herself. And that day, she went there herself.
Caleb wished that he could slap himself now. The signs had been so obvious and you had been ---time and time again--- so forgiving. He could only feel the dull ache in his chest as he stared blankly at his phone. What he is feeling now is no mistake for the constant hollowness he had felt when he was with MC. A hollow that a naive Caleb thought could be filled if he got a girlfriend in highschool. Blame his raging hormones for that and even now too, he is back to square one.
The silver dangling from his neck caught the seam of light and he glanced over, picking up the rectangular shaped metal in his hand and sighed. He had switched out the necklace for the one you gave him as it is the only thing he had left of you. The necklace constantly echoed the warning from your letter, holding him back from setting off on a manhunt for you. "I'm sorry I did not realise it sooner, y/n." Your name a whisper to him and he kissed the necklace, eyelash fluttering and wishing upon a fallen star.
The winds are stronger today and you pulled your coat closer to your body, your hair batting against your cheeks as a cruel reminder of autumn's touch. Finally settling within an alcove of a building, you turned around to see that it was a coffee shop and decided to seek shelter within it temporarily. The door opened up with a soft jingle and the aroma of coffee beans consumed your nose. Nothing felt warmer than the smell of hot coffee amidst the harsh cold winds.
You quickly pulled out your phone and sent your location, a quick press to your recent and a swoosh sound indicated your sent message. The coffee shop was cosy, as if built with the aesthetic of autumn in mind, it comprises of mostly warm earthy colours with the occasional gold linings for the counters. A female around her mid twenties greeted you, a small gold plaque on the right side of her shirt marks her name 'Braily' in italic.
"Good morning, what can I get for you?" Her smile was kind, pearly whites on full display as she awaited for your response while you briefly scanned through the menu on the ordering table. Seeing your hesitation, she chimed in, pointing at a drink at the menu. "How about an apple latte? It is much more fragrant than the usual cinnamon and also adds a hint of sweetness. It is our autumn special."
You looked up, eyes catching her slate grey orbs. And you smiled in return, relieved that a decision was given to you. "Sure, sounds good." You nodded and returned her smile. A few taps on her screen and a few more pastry recommendations from Braily, you are pretty much set for your order. "Oh yeah, can I perhaps get a cup of strawberry milkshake as well?"
Her fingers paused mid way and she tilted her head over to catch your gaze, a flint of worry caught within her irises but she did not mentioned anything further, perhaps thinking that you are not going to enjoy all of these pastries and drinks alone. "Sure, I will add that in for you miss. That should be a total of 30."
Once the payment was settled, you held onto the small beeper and searched for a seat near the window. So that you can enjoy the sight of the browning trees and the howling winds, causing ruckus for other passerbys. It is a good way to pass time as you await for the arrival of your plus one.
Another soft jingle was heard after a couple of minutes but you paid no mind to it, too engrossed on the game you are playing on your phone. Heavy footsteps clomped behind you, chatters ensued and you heard the employees greeting the newcomer into the coffee shop. "Y/n?" The voice octave is a pitch lower than what you are accustomed to but it ran a cold tingle down the back of your spine.
Clicking your phone off, you snapped your head to your right and you are faced with the guy that you had never wished to meet again. Caleb. He stood in front of you, in a simple tee under his black leather DAA jacket. He held disbelief in his stare, looking down at you with an unexplainable expression. Or maybe you had lost your touch in being able to read him like an open book. "Y/n." He called your name again and you regained your composure, taking in a deep breath.
Caleb knew that you would be too shocked to say anything so he glanced over at the seat opposite you and he invited himself to sit himself down. Facing you directly, he leaned his elbows against the table and tried to talk to you again. But you interrupted. "It's been a while." You gulped, trying your best to steady your voice. "Caleb." The way you pronounced his name was acrid tasting; unpleasant and certainly held no fond memories. "Why are you here?"
"I should ask you that." His eyes narrowed slightly, not able to grasp your thoughts when you lacked expressions for him to read. "Where have you been?"
His questions are almost detestable, it reminded you of the feeling you had when you left the DAA. The fear of parting with him, the nights you would spend doubting about your choices when you moved back to Greensprings and the pain you had to endure when you knew it was the best decision. Yet, on the bright side, it made you less sensitive, more sure of your own needs and wants and it also made you more independent. "As what I had mentioned in my letter, away from you Caleb."
His brows knitted together, your one-worded sentence not what he had expected but again, he was not wishing that he would meet the same girl that was once head over heels for him. But your distance is only suggesting him to view it from another angle. Maybe lesser questions and more explanations would help. "I respected your decision, I did not search for you." He sighed, shoulders slumped as he spoke. "But maybe I shouldn't have believed in that letter and gave up my one chance to make things right with you."
You looked at him, more like through him as you were allowing your mind to bring you through memory lane. "It's not your fault. I chose to leave afterall." Your response was much calmer, there was no edge to your voice and Caleb knew this was the right way to continue.
So he did. "I made a mistake, y/n." Lips barely moving, cosmic irises caught yours immediately. "After that letter, I realised that I was always in love with you but I dated MC to fulfill a twisted vision of my feelings towards you." Perplex raced across your face. "Because I was a coward as I did not want to lose you as a friend too."
You could feel the knot in the deep part of your heart unravelling, a question that was finally answered. Caleb was staring at you, eyes held years of yearning for you, wanting a response that he knew he could never turn to anyone for, nor to distract himself with. It could only be answered by you. Caleb was met with no tears, no sniffles, no sigh of relief, but only silence.
The silence between the both of you got drowned out by the soft chatters and calm lofi music playing in the background. The wind outside had almost slowed down to give you guys more space to exchange whispers. "You had already lost me the day you chose MC."
The pang that hit Caleb was subtle, quiet but impactful. A metaphorical punch straight through the gut of his. Hands clasped on the table, Caleb's gaze dropped, guilt engulfing him normally ramrod straight posture. "I thought you would see me the way you had always seen me." You continued, gaze faltering too, studying the hems of your coat. "Before MC even existed in your life."
He gulped, saliva burning like hot lava down his throat. A few bats of his eyelashes and he tried to connect his eyes back to yours. "I can't let you walk away again, y/n. Not this time." His hand reached out, palm slid across the round table to at least get a hold of you. You flinched backwards. "Y/n." Your name whispered again as his voice cracked at the end.
A jingle of a bell in the background indicated an arrival of another stranger, a forgotten figure between the two. Caleb's eyes still trained on you, your lips now pressed into a thin line, trying to contain your emotions. Footsteps anchored next to your seat and you caught sight of those fancy dress shoes. The owner's voice a melody of comfort to your ears. "Cutie---" Trailed off for a short second and ensued, now questioning. "Is he bothering you?"
You trailed your eyes up, dress pants, white button up and topped with those familiar checkered cardigan. Your beloved boyfriend has finally arrived. His pink-blue orbs was staring daggers into Caleb's nebulic ones. Ready to spit flames if you gave him the green light. "Raf." You were quick to speak, hand subconsciously raised up to hold his hand. Caleb caught your motion and hereby was introduced to the dynamic immediately.
Tension stayed, with Rafayel's eyes narrowed, darting in between your expressions and the guy who felt guilty to be there. "Who is he?" His tone was gentle. As he was never the type to raise his voice towards you. But Rafayel's demeanour; tightened grip and taut chest demanded answers. It's new to you, seeing how worked up your boyfriend could be. But it also meant the world to you. A world where Caleb no longer belongs. A world where you constantly have to doubt if you were ever one's first choice.
"He..." A slight glance towards Caleb, you could tell he was in a mixed state of disbelief and acceptance. His eyes caught yours for a brief moment but you were quick to avert, eyes going back to your boyfriend's worried expressions. "He was an old friend."
The chair's scrape was louder than what Caleb had intended to but he could not bring himself to cringe at his own mistake. Distraught bloomed in his heart. Acceptance catching on quick when he knew that he could no longer be a part in your life. It makes his speech earlier seemingly redundant. He stood up, height towering over Rafayel's but he kept a few steps behind, not wanting to cross the boyfriend who is ready to stick a fork up his chin.
"I used to be in love with y/n." Caleb's voice was clear, expression now rigid as he stared dead straight into Rafayel's eyes. You quietly gasped at Caleb's statement, Rafayel's shoulder slacked. Your boyfriend sighed, relaxed his stance and rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand to soothe you. He too, could see the passion in the other man's eye. But Rafayel is protective, not defensive. "I just wanted to seek for closure with her."
"I can tell from the way you looked at her." Your boyfriend's voice came from the depths of acknowledgement, no sense of threat to be detected. "I always wondered who was the guy she had told me about that left her walking around with half of a soul." Caleb's single brow lifted, requesting for more and your boyfriend provided. "But I think you've gotten your closure." Rafayel looked down at you for confirmation. "Right?"
You refused to lift your head, nodding silently in return and Rafayel snaked his arm around your waist as a gesture to reaffirm you of his presence. "It is time for you to let someone else love her as a whole." A silent establishment of dominance of territory, wrapped in respect and elegance. That was the reason why you had fell for Rafayel. He was never afraid to fight for you, to stand up in what he thinks is best for your interest. You were never second option.
Caleb only watched as you raised from your seat, the necklace around his neck starting to weigh heavier by every ticking second. What Rafayel said was the ultimatum but the lack of response coming from you was the deciding factor for Caleb. If he really loved you, he would let you go. At the same time, he could only watch you through his blurring peripheral vision as you walked past the street, being in your beloved's warm grip, smiling widely as you exit out of Caleb's heart.
This took me forever to write it but I hope that your request is fulfilled! @arahiraaai thanks for the request babes <3
PREVIEW: Caleb has disappeared for a while now, leaving your confession a whisper in the wind. Life went on. But what if one day, he appeared in front of you, fighting for his life. What would you do?
WARNINGS: Caleb x nonmc!, nonmc! doctor (she is but I'm not so take my medical advices with a whole bucket of salt pls), inspired by his mecha arm (okay and maybe the Torring Chip) lore but it's my own twist on it, angst angst angst WITH comfort because this is afterall a parallel universe ending <3
NOTES: A parallel universe where the what ifs are answered and where Caleb earns that second chance from you. Graduation piece for this series because I don't think dragging it any longer would be good for any of your mental health! Do lemme know what you think of this series! <3
[THE START] [BAD ENDING]
[PREVIOUS GOOD ENDING]
The memory wipe happened. Happened in front of your eyes as you watched Caleb faltered to the floor like a spineless puppet after what felt like hours of being in his arms and with him whispering comforting and sweet nothings to you. You had to call for the code blue while you struggle to heave him up into a seated position. Nurses that swarmed into your room that night saw the state of distress you were in, tears streaked across your face as you clawed onto his unconscious figure, trying to get him to sit up.
"The Torrent Syndrome kicked in!" You shouted, eyes pleading the few medical personnel that stood in front of you. None of them moved, but only exchanged dejected looks amongst themselves. A silent announcement of there is nothing anyone could do to help him. "Please, someone, do something!" The dam broke apart yet again, and you wept openly, already impervious to how the others would perceive you.
"Dr. Y/N, you have to get a hold of yourself!" A voice called out and footsteps approached. The attending nurse knelt down next to you and grabbed onto your shoulders, trying to ground you. "We have to inform the Fleet. They might be able to do something about it." Her suggestion was the only viable way to deal with Caleb now and it is the only chance you can take. Seeing that your weeps are slowing down, the nurse turned her head and signalled for the others to get in touch with the Fleet.
That was the last night you saw him. He was airlifted off of the hospital's helipad due to the general's orders. The night was unusually dark that night, stars that littered the skies had dimmed, sharing your hymns of lament. You watched as the aircraft zoomed off into the distance at light speed. "Dr. Y/N." The attending nurse called out to you and you turned, sniffling under your breath. Hands coming up to wipe the remnants of tear stains on your wet cheeks. "I'm sure he will be fine."
Glancing upwards, you meet her eyes. Those warm brown orbs filled with pity and sympathy. Perhaps she was wondering what could have happened if she had let you off of the case? Would you end up feeling less self-recriminating? Most likely not. For his presence is very much still etched into your mind. How could you not care? "I hope so too." You nodded your head, tears crowding your vision till it makes it hard for you to keep your eyes open. "I really hope so."
"You should take a few days off, get yourself some rest." She offered you gentle back pats and rubs, an effort to soothe you from crying anymore. "Look, I don't mean to pry but it is evident that he is more than just a patient to you. You already did your best and this is not your burden to bear other than the Fleets." She could not have been more logical but it does not reach you, at least not the part of your heart that yearns for him still. "The Torring Chip broke him but you made the right choice to save him. Yes it is factual that he may not remember you anymore, but at least you did your best. He would have wish for you to make the best choice too even if it's not him on that table."
No words slipped out of your mouth. You were too exhausted. Packed schedules and the lack of nap times had finally beaten you to it. Dragging your feet across the tiled floor, you retreated towards your temporary quarters and plopped onto the bed. Still silently hoping that you may be able to make amends if you were to meet Caleb in your dreamland.
You took a week off. It was meant to be recuperating for your mental health but you barely ate. Even if you did, it does not surpass a meal a day which consists of only a cup of milk and a slice of bread. God knows if you had ingested mould but god forbid a woman whom had just lost the love of her life, twice. And it is not reassuring when she knows the fact he is alive and well and does not remember anything about her existence.
Now, you stood in front of your mirror, studying your facial features. Your eyes had sunken in slightly from your slight weight loss, and you look as deadbeat as a zombie that just rose from its grave. Looking out of your window, you see the occasional space crafts that passed by, the sigil of the Fleet marked on the matte black exterior of the air craft. Could Caleb be in any of those?
You silenced your mind before it strays any further down the rabbit hole. Shrugging on a cardigan to combat the chilly weather, you headed out of your unit and set course towards the hospital. A beep coming from your phone got you fishing it out of your tote bag to glance at the notifications. Some daily calendar reminders, some promotional content from apps you barely used, some emails to catch up on later and a message from Dr. Atlas.
The lack of a smiley face emoji at the end of his message could only mean business. If the Fleet is requesting for your attendance, it could possibly be relevant to Caleb's situation. Your heart strings tugged and heartbeat is finally catching up, thrumming softly against your rib cage. It is hard to predict if it was going to be good or bad news, but you know for sure, that you have to be there to hear the news.
Arriving at the hospital, you noticed the rows of the Fleets' air crafts parked at the entrance of the hospital and judging by the lack of chatter in the hospital lobby, they probably got sections of the hospital on lockdown for enhanced security. "Dr. Y/N!" Your name echoed across the empty hallways, following by hastened footsteps. Atlas appears at the end of the hallway, a white coat in his arms as he hurried towards you.
"Welcome back!" He was out of breath by the time he reached you. He cracked a small smile out of his embarassment for his lack of breath and passed you your coat. "They...They are in your office." He announced, still trying to regain his normal breathing tempo. "How...How are you?"
"I'm fine, thanks for asking." You returned with a small smile. It is comforting to see that Atlas---who is probably up to date with the hospital's latest gossips--- does not relay his question with any form of judgement. However, it may not be the same for the rest of the hospital staffs. Luckily you had given yourself a pep talk prior to work so hopefully all of the prepping effort does not go to waste. "You should get your breathing tempo checked, two beats are off."
Shrugging on your coat, you started pacing towards your office, Atlas tagging behind. "I am meeting Dr. Anne from ENT department later." He responded to your concern but you know the meet up between them is far from being professional. Or so that is what you noticed. Those stolen glances whenever they walked past one another, always trying to get the same rest hours so they could be huddled up nice and cosy under the huge oak tree that sat in an obscured corner of the hospital's garden. It is clear that professionalism has just gotten more complicated.
However, you are not one to pry, same as how you wished from the others about your personal life. So you asked no questions and swung the door open to your office. Your curtains are drawn, the only source of light coming from your desk lamp. A warm hue casting long shadows of two men that stood at rest in your office. Both of them turned on the same beat and acknowledged you with a halfhearted nod.
One was tall, with green eyes and pinched jaw while the shorter comrade of his was bulkier in size, with striking blue eyes and an aquiline nose. "I'll get going, good luck." Atlas whispered, body out of the door frame's way so he would not cause any disturbance. Then, he quickly hurtled away.
"Gentlemen." You greeted, buttoning your coat till the two men stepped aside, revealing the figure you had never stopped dreaming about. The colonel himself, Caleb sat in the sole leather armchair, clad in his neatly pressed uniform. His eyes did not hold any form of gentleness but was stoic, judgemental even as he scanned your figure from top to bottom. "Caleb." His name slipped past your lips before you could even register it.
"So you're in charge of my case?" He spoke, voice clear and banal. He remained seated, eyes trained on you when your gaze dropped and you walked over to your steel cabinets to grab his file. Your lungs had constricted, heart tightened against your chest when you felt the pressure of his stare. This Caleb carries a heavy presence, one so heavy that you were afraid of the outcome of this conversation.
Lifting his file out of the cabinet, you asked, purposely glancing through the alphabets across his report so you could seem busy. "Would they be in the room too?" You inquisition was answered with a simple lift of his hand and the two men stomped their feet and marched out obediently.
This is the poster-boy Caleb that everyone would not mess with. Sadly, it was also the Caleb you expected to meet when you first saw him in the emergency bay. Not puppy-eyed, pouty-lipped and hopeful Caleb. Your expectations did came to life, but much later, much after you had made the mistake of turning him into the version of the colonel you had imagined in your head.
Questions were pushing against the back of your throat, wanting to know how he is, whether if he recalled anything or know anything. You even wanted to ask if he could remember what he had promised you before his surgery. However, with his indifferent looks, it felt like a sin to even think of such questions.
"How are you feeling so far ever since your surgery, Caleb?" His name rolled off of your tongue so easily and you silently cursed at your mistake. Quickly, you pretended that you had initially intended to call him by his name to mask your nervousness. Biting your inner cheek, you sat down in your leather seat and slid his file across the table for him to view.
Glove clad hand of his reached out and took the file you had laid out. His eyes were trained on you, unreadable expression on display. "What a nerve to call me by my name." He commented and your head shot up, looking directly at him. A smirk lazily pulled across his thin lips while he studied your expression. "One admittance to your hospital and I am your friendly neighbourhood colonel now?"
His panning tone got you opening your mouth, apologising immediately before things could escalate. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way." His eyes peeled off of you and down to his file, pupils dilating and drifting left and right as he read through the details.
The tension in the room was overwhelming. It could cause anyone a panic attack but no weapons were drawn right now and you believe that Caleb is not rash given his reputation on battlefields. "So, you took out my Torring Chip?" A question he should have asked further when you informed him about it. It just concluded that he does not hold any memories anymore.
"Yes." Your answer was quieter than what you wished for. Your lips trembled as you explained your answer, your guilty conscience is already creeping into the back of your mind. All of the pep talk you had for yourself was proven worthless afterall when you are faced with your nightmare. "It was causing your heart to fail. So I made the logical decision to remove it."
"Logical." The way Caleb said it, the phrase held somewhat of a meaning to him as he rolled his tongue about it. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his fists together, laying it casually on his lap as he continued. "So, there is an emotional aspect to the decision making too? Doctor y/n?"
Your answer got stuck in your throat, nostrils flaring in anger as you realised that your choice of words may have just made you dug a deeper hole for the death of your career. Tears had started to well up in your eyes when you looked into his amethyst orbs. The ones that held a sense of pride and depraved of a mystery to solve. "Cat got your tongue, doctor?"
You forced your eyelids to blink, to regain any part of control of yourself. Your heartbeat is akin to one whom had just finished the most intense cardio in the world and it felt like it could pop out of your chest cavity at any moment. Hence, you figured it may be better to lie and to pray that this new Caleb would not be able to smell your dishonesty like the old Caleb could. "No, I am just doing what's best for the patient. And in your case, it is the best decision for the Fleet and our nation."
"Fair enough." He hummed in return, studying you. "Only if your eyes aren't glassy, doctor." Then he stood, his height towering you immediately. Although there is a huge mahogany table wedged between the both of you, it does nothing to lessen his aura. "With that, I shall hereby detain you under Section 191 according to the Fleet's Order, for conflict of interest which directly goes against the Hippocratic's Oath. And under Section 251 which points to the disregard of approval for surgical procedure from the hierarchy."
Slacked-jawed and flabbergasted, you stood up from your seat, almost in a dramatical manner and you panned. "I saved your life and yet I am getting detained for doing my job, colonel?" Your reaction was called for, the colonel had predicted it. "You were in my surgical room, dying on the surgical table and you care about whether I asked if your general would want the Torring Chip out of your head?!" The tears in your eyes hanging onto the rim of your eyes, fists balled as it slammed lightly against the table.
You did not know how to react, whether to worry that you were being detained for the most ridiculous penalties or that Caleb is being unreasonable. Regardless, both do not form a good mix. "If I were you, I would sit down and talk like how a doctor is appointed to treat a patient." Lifting his mechanical arm, he gazed at his glove for a good second before his eyes landed on you again. You looked exhausted, shocked and disappointed. The tears on your cheeks presented nothing more than a waterfall show for the colonel. "Your reactions only work to prove my verdicts even more, Dr. Y/N. Now, why don't you be a good girl and follow me back to my ship?"
Fighting would not do you nor your hospital any good. Now you sat in his ship, at the back seat as you awaited for the colonel to be back. You clutched the folder tighter in your small hand, knuckles turning white and the brown paper folder crumpling under the pressure. The tear that rolled down your cheek was unstoppable now. Guilt is already in full gear pumping your veins full of regret.
His air craft smelled stale, probably tinged with years of blood, sweat and tears that had seeped into the layers of metal so thick that it is a signature scent accustomed to Caleb's nose. But to you, it held no significance. Just another mode of transport that belonged to the colonel and he is going to sent you straight to detention with it.
A loud click and whir stirred you and you quickly wiped the tears off of your cheeks, feigning nonchalance as you sat back and closed your eyes. So he would not be able to tell that you had been crying. Footsteps came closer and you heard his breath within the silence of the ship. The tension in between the both of you thickened once again. "I've already informed the hospital of your status. You shall be stationed with the Fleet from now on."
The sudden change from criminal status to doctor again got you opening your eyes and you gave him a question mark on your face. He still stood in front of you, now looking down, shadows that marked across his face making it hard for you to see his facial expressions. "I thought I was a convicted criminal. What's with the sudden change?"
He shifted in his stance and got down onto one knee, the leather suit scraped against the metal flooring of his ship slightly. The slanting rays had now touched his features. Caleb's face had softened, facial expressions relaxed. The soft hue of lighting that came in through the windows of his ship giving you the illusion of him when he was younger, when he was still Caleb. "You wanted to leave the hospital, didn't you?"
The colonel's voice was calming, soothing even to your ears but you are not buying his good guy act. There is no way he would have remembered what you told him in your office that day. The Torring Chip had already kicked in and with his performance in your office just barely an hour ago, it proved past researches right to the dot. Caleb searched your face for any sense of realisation but it was clear to him that you were doubting him. "Did my dean told you that?" You tested him, knowing that the idea of you wanting to leave the hospital has only been told to the colonel himself.
It happened during the day when you broke the news to him, when your heart had started cracking with every passing second, knowing that you will lose him regardless. So, you decided to tell him everything, all of your pent up emotions that spanned across the past few years. Your ups, your downs, your wins, your losses and your dreams and hopes. And one of it being you wanting to leave the picurrent position and status. But you could care less about the consequences because you would still be in the healthcare industry by the end of the day. You would still be saving lives and practicing what you had studied so hard for. You believe that your passion would triumph over your need for a higher position or status within a hospital.
A slight wince from Caleb, you caught it. And his eyebrows got knitted together, lips pressed into a thin line as if he was offended by it. "I remembered you wanted to leave the hospital, y/n." His answer got your head shaking from left to right subconsciously. You could not believe it. Till his hand came up to shakily grasp your cheek. One was warm while the other was cold, but both held the same amount of gentleness on your skin.
"I'm sorry that I'm abusing my rights as a colonel just to get you out of there. I know I could've done it better, but..." His eye twitched, a brewing anger behind the purple of his irises. "I couldn't think of any other way to convince you to stay by my side." Hearing Caleb's plan of detaining you was all a fabricated lie after all, jerked your tears again. "The Torring Chip did made me forget some stuffs like certain missions I should be monitoring and some ongoing investigations that I've to handle. But, I didn't forget you y/n."
His thumb wiped the tear that slid down your rubicund cheeks. Your lips parted slightly, a murmur ensued. You wanted to ask him how but apparently, your lips had something else planned. "Are...are you the Caleb I've always loved?" The bottom of your lips trembled, your heart expecting him to say yes although your consciousness suggested otherwise.
"I promised you that I won't leave you anymore, didn't I?" Caleb carefully tugged the edge of his lips into a small, comforting smile and you dropped onto your knees in front of him, tossing yourself into his arms and enveloping him into a huge hug. The colonel was unprepared but quickly recovered in his kneeling stance, wrapping his arms around you to secure you. "I'll always be the Caleb you love, y/n."
"Let's go home together, shall we?" His invitation received no backlash, only frantic nods from you. His hand cupped your cheek again and he leaned down, taking this opportunity to press his soft lips against yours to mark the start of a new journey together in Sky Haven. Pulling back, tears of joy streaked across your cheeks. A miracle, one may say in the field of medicine but to you, it was his promise, his resilience and his longing and lasting stare that won your heart once again.
THE ENDDD! Finally all of my gentle readers could have a goodnight cuddle with Caleb in their dreams <3 This man is built different afterall!
So this is my idea, Caleb and non mc reader, they have been friends for a long time, and obviously reader is in love with him, usual, BUT, BUT, what about if we play "The Exit" by Conan Gray in the background, at first the song it's from r povs, cause she saw Caleb with maybe mc always together and apparently in love, but as the years go by, we can see that actually Caleb was also in love with r, and it's still in love, but now r is over him, and now the song is his pov, cause maybe she's with Rafayel (romantic or not, you decide) š
pure, pure, evil and fat angst, if you do it, it would be amazing, but if you don't want to, feel free to ignore!
First of all, thanks a lot for your submission! I am glad that you had entrusted me with your idea š„¹š«¶š» I shall do my best to fulfill your needs for an angsty piece my love šāāļøšāāļø
Caleb actually has been on my mind recently. Other than my most recent feature piece, I think his relationship with MC is worth the āexploitationā. And btw mixing in non-mc is such a recipe for disaster and Iām loving it š¤š¤Ŗ
I look forward to your feedback on my piece! Thanks again for this opportunity, I hope you would hold onto your seat for life when you read it eventually!š¤š„°
PREVIEW: Caleb has disappeared for a while now, leaving your confession a whisper in the wind. Life went on. But what if one day, he appeared in front of you, fighting for his life. What would you do?
WARNINGS: Caleb x nonmc!, nonmc! doctor (she is but I'm not so take my medical advices with a whole bucket of salt pls), inspired by his mecha arm (okay and maybe the Torring Chip) lore but it's my own twist on it, angst angst angst WITH comfort because this is afterall a parallel universe ending <3
NOTES: A parellel universe where the what ifs are answered and where Caleb earns that second chance from you. But again, my hands are itchy, soooo I never promised it was gonna be smooth sailing nor anything heh <3 I know you guys secretly want to be hurt so lemme tease a knife around your neck hehehehe <3
[THE START] [BAD ENDING]
[PREVIOUS GOOD ENDING]
[NEXT EPISODE]
After a sigh, the grueling surgery had came to an end after 12 hours. The surgery could be considered a success but not without its obstacles. V-Fib had happened twice on Caleb and twice, you brought him back from the doors of death with a daunting race against time and your trusty defib on standby. Also, with your expertise, you managed to identify the issue within matter of minutes and proceeded to do what is best to keep him afloat. Still, you walked out of the surgery room, with trembling hands and cold sweat evident on your forehead.
"Dr. Y/N, are you alright?" Atlas asked, eyes widened with admiration as he approached you, offering to take off your gloves for you so you could scrub out.
"Yeah, I just need a breather." Your eyes not meeting his, you put out your arm and allowed the intern to remove the gloves expertly. A slight pang of the latex against your skin got him apologising profusely but you dismissed him, already walking towards the sink to scrub out.
You looked past the pane of glass, at the man that laid on the surgery table with an attached mechanical arm now, his eyes still closed as the nurses sewed him up and prep for his transferral to the ward. Your heart ached painfully slow, knowing that you nearly lost him twice. The pain does not derive from you nearly losing him, but it derived from your choice of morale on whether to save him and watch him suffer or to disengage and to let him go.
Your conscience wants the latter but your oath as a doctor has tied your hands to the first option. Losing a colonel when the Fleet is at their prime is not the best for the nation and you are not looking to lose your medical license because of that. Call it a selfish will but it is a huge contribution to the nation afterall.
Three knocks on the wooden door and you announced your presence, face still buried in the amount of reports you had to fill in to report back to the Fleet regarding their colonel's healing process. It has been a couple of days since you had last seen the colonel. He was awake after one day, but you chose to only visit him when he was resting so you could avoid talking to him.
The door slid open with a slight creak and a waft of iodine hit your nose. "I knew the nurses would be covering your ass." The chirp from the man in question did not surprise you. It was only a matter of time before he finds you. "Where have you been for the past few days?" He plopped himself onto the seat right opposite you and tried to get a peek at what you were doing while keeping up a conversation. "You'reeee not avoiding me, are you?"
"Colonel, if you mind, I have YOUR paperwork to finish before 5pm." Your eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line to avoid swaying out of topic and to talk about something else. Something perhaps more mundane and casual.
"You're avoiding the question, I see." His voice dropped an octave and a shadow loomed over you, blocking the sun rays that flowed in through the windows of your office. It got you to stop writing but not to look up, afraid your facade may break. "Y/n..."
The man stood there, hand itching to touch you, to grasp your chin just so you would look at him. But he is not one to push, for it is too soon to trigger you. "Caleb..." Your voice was hushed, shaky even as you muttered his name. He blinked a few times but stayed put, lips so close you could feel his breath fanning across the top of your head. "I just needed time to process everything." You lied.
And he caught it. "You know, you may have grown taller and prettier, but you're still a terrible liar." The subtle use of calling you pretty got your heart skipping a mere beat and you forced yourself to keep your cool. "I thought we had established an understanding before my surgery, haven't we?"
His question of holding you accountable for what you had said prior to his surgery got you in a chokehold. It is true that some parts of you had forgave him, but the feeling of being left alone still stained. "I don't know how to feel about this. About us."
He took the leap of faith. With calculated determination, Caleb reached out to grip your chin and angled it upwards. "Then don't. Don't think, just feel." His eyelids were heavy, gaze dropping in between your eyes and your lips. He knew that if he were to let you withdraw further, he may no longer stand a chance to hold you back.
"Caleb..." He could see the tremble of your lips, hear the hesitation in your tone and the consternation held in your gaze. You were fighting every fiber of your being to not give in, because you knew, in the end you were bound to suffer. "I spent years trying to forget you and I don't think that I can handle you leaving me again." Tears welled up in your eyes, your sob rising from your chest cavity.
Caleb's eyebrows raised, surprised that you were expecting him to leave when he had worked so hard just to get in touch with you again. "I won't leave y/n." His finger slid gently, tracing a line upwards to your cheek and he cradles your cheek. "Not after everything. I can't lose you too."
With reddish eyes and a frown, you vulnerably display a sign of defeat against your own emotions when you unravelled the painful truth to him. A hapless mistake you forced yourself to bear. "It's inevitable." His other arm---the mechanical arm that now bears the outlook of a regular arm instead of a piece of metal--- reached forward to cup the other side of your cheek and you winced slightly. Foreign to the feeling of being consoled.
He studied your reaction and stood up, rounding over the table and coming down onto his knees next to you. His height now no longer towering, but his gaze at the same level as yours. "You're hiding something from me." It came off to be more of a statement than a question. He knew you too well, even after all of these years. Part of him is proud of himself being able to read you like a book but another part of him does not.
Your body involuntarily slacked from the throb in your chest and your head dropped. Caleb reached forward just in time to catch your head, and to allow you to lean your forehead against his broad shoulder as he patiently awaits for your explanation. "I had to choose. I was either going to lose Caleb or the nation is going to lose the colonel." Your breath was shaky, your vision blurring as your stared down at your hands, the same hands that decided both of your fates.
Your explanation continues as Caleb wraps his arms around you, enveloping you into a silent hug as he prepared for the worst. You were too entrapped in your own emotions that you could not even get yourself to sink into his hug. "During your surgery, we found out that the Torring Chip is the cause for your V-Fibs. That was when I had to make a call." A deep breath was taken and you exhaled your decision with a whimper at the end. "I decided to remove the chip." And your tears broke, streaming down your rubicund cheeks rapidly.
Caleb's eyes closed, a sigh released as his hug tightened around your shaking body. Hearing your sobs topples over whatever worry he has of himself later on. "How much time do I have left?" His voice was eerily calm, embracing you being the only thing he cares about now. Feeling how small and vulnerable you are in his arms now, he wondered what you had went through when you were alone, with nobody to rely on. The thought could easily kill him.
"At this point, 8 hours or less." You continued sobbing and threw your arms around him. Or at least what is left of him. "Before your memory rewires." You bury your face into the crook of his neck and tightly held onto him. Guilt surrounded you, mocking you for not holding him, for not forgiving him any earlier so you could fall in love with him once again. Only if time could tell.
The tight hug from you broke all of his hesitations. The nights he stayed up just so he could hear your footsteps coming in to check on him and occasionally feel your warm hands on his arm or shoulder or cheek. His yearning for you afterall, is not one sided. Now is not the best timing, yet Caleb's wishful thinking was answered and he was grateful for that. "Is there anything you can do to help reduce the symptoms?"
Your silence was the answer he expected. That is what the Torring Chip is designed to do. His consent to install the chip was to prove his loyalty to the Fleet but it was also an opportunity to be so high up in authority so nobody could question him if he takes advantage of the system to locate you. Caleb is a selfish man afterall. But one who would give up all just for you. And only you. "I'm sorry." Your apology came through as the only logical response you could muster.
"Hey, it's okay." He pulled back, hands back to cupping your cheeks and he looked into your bloodshot eyes. You gazed back, catching his eyes and the small apologetic smile that hung on his lips. You wished that there was something you could have done, or invent or override just to cure him. But the Torring Chip is all but a military equipment built to control anyone who pledges to the Fleet. And it corrodes anyone who defies its existence. How can one deny its existence when it is being the cause of eviscerating one's life? In this case, Caleb's life? "Even if I lose all of my memories, I won't forget you."
"It's not a choice, Caleb!" You raised your voice. In the dead of the night, your distressed voice echoed in your room, your panic raying across your features. The lines of being a good, responsible doctor towards the patient's wellbeing and a girl who could never forget her first love has been ruined the moment your guilt ate you up. "I killed the Caleb I love and I'm going to lose you again." Your hand reached up subconsciously, lightly touching his cheek as you let your thoughts drown. "Not again."
The crack of your voice clarified your thoughts. You avoiding him was never because of the fact you were scared to talk to him. But you were scared of generating more memories with him. Memories that he could not keep due to the removal of the chip. All along, you were afraid of losing him, and yet, here you are, still afraid. And you killing the Caleb you had always loved got you breaking down in distress in his arms. "Not again." The only two words you could say in litany.
Caleb held you throughout the pain, eyes staring blankly at the cork board that has his health reports pinned all over and the packed schedule you had. He noticed the small time gap you had for rest in between your shifts. It was scrawled messily with a blue pen, cursive handwriting indicating his name. Even when your time is packed and you barely had a time to rest, you still put in the effort to visit him.
Caleb could not prevent his memories from fading, but deep within him, he kept wishing that if he were to really lose memories of you, he would never want to lose the feelings he had always felt around you. When you stayed in his arms, crying as if death is about to claim him, he had never felt such comfort ever since he had lost everyone around him. Oh, how he should not have turned away from you. "I promise I will always be here, y/n. I won't forget the way I always loved you." And he landed a kiss onto the top of your head as time counts down.
Fret not, fret not, third part is already in the works, I am having too much fun with this short series :3
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
PREVIEW: Caleb has disappeared for a while now, leaving your confession a whisper in the wind. Life went on. But what if one day, he appeared in front of you, fighting for his life. What would you do?
WARNINGS: Caleb x nonmc!, nonmc! doctor (she is but I'm not so take my medical advices with a whole bucket of salt pls), inspired by his mecha arm lore but it's my own twist on it, angst WITH comfort, I am too much of a softie <3
NOTES: A parellel universe where the what ifs are answered and where Caleb earns that second chance from you. I wanted to soothe all of your little hearts so here we go :) you may sleep well now~
[THE START] [BAD ENDING]
[NEXT CHAPTER]
The attending nurse was wide eyed, flabbergasted when you slapped the file onto the marbled countertop with a huff. "Woah, what's gotten into you? Kinda rare to see you lose your marbles over a patient." Her voice indicated amusement when she studied your reddened cheeks. Anymore puffier it gets, you would belong in the aquarium at the main lobby, along with the other fishes.
"I can't treat him." Your voice was quieter, close to cracking as you are still calming yourself down from your sniffles. "Just put it in as conflict of interest. I'm sure the dean would understand." Borderline begging, that was how you sounded to the nurse now but her apologetic smile has already suggested otherwise.
"Dr. Y/N. The dean would have understood only if we have more staffs on board. Mr.Caleb Xia in there is specifically assigned to you because of his status and nobody gets to override that order other than the patient himself." She pointed her index towards the man in the room, his eyes trained on the ceilings above him. He is not watching, not directly at least. "It is also a direct order from the general himself and you wouldn't want to put the dean into trouble right?"
Her darn puppy eyes and whiny tone got you rethinking your steps. You sighed, fist clenched against his patient file till a small 'doot' came through the counter. A code button specially for Caleb's room and you turned around, eyes catching his briefly. The man is sat up now, dark orbs studying your features but with a face full of hope wishing you would step into the room. You tore your gaze away from him and faced the nurse behind the counter again. "Check in on him would you please?" You asked the nurse and seeing your situation, she offered no retaliation and nodded, immediately pacing herself to his room while you walked off with his file.
The next day came by and your pager beeped as you were about to take a bite onto your toastie. It is no surprise that it came from Atlas, the intern you had sent to collect blood samples from Caleb. Grumbling under your breath, your rewrap your brunch and jogged your way towards Caleb's room. As you are nearing the hallway, you heard shouts and there is a small crowd gathering outside of his room. You have a bad feeling.
You pushed through the crowd and opened the door, murmurs immediately halted as everyone noticed that his main physician has arrived. "What is happening?" Your eyebrows are tightly knitted together, watching Caleb's jaw was clenched shut, teeth grinding and gaze burning. It was almost clear that he was making a fuss.
"He is refusing treatment!" Your intern exclaimed, arms forced to be above his head due to Caleb's usage of his gravity evol. "He would not let anyone treat him nor to take anything from him unle---"
"Unless it is Dr. Y/N." Caleb finished off his sentence, the facade of the brazen colonel surfacing for a brief moment till his eyes caught yours and you noticed it softening a little. Holding his gaze on you, he continued to make his statement clear. "I will only consent to Dr. Y/N."
The subtle change of attitude of his got your stomach feeling fuzzy but your logical response still is very much in control. You cleared your throat. "Thank you for trying Atlas, I will take it from here." You whipped your head towards the crowd that are slowly starting to disperse from the commotion and you offered Atlas an apologetic smile. Poor intern, he must have been traumatised. "Go and run the lab works later, I will get the nurse to send you the samples."
Atlas nodded, now rubbing his wrist after being released from Caleb's evol and he muttered something incoherent under his breath, placing the needle back onto the tray and he walked out of the room with a sigh of defeat. Caleb looks visibly relaxed, laying back down onto the bed and watching you as your shoulders slumped. "I am not comfortable with anybody else touching me." He started the conversation.
You swiftly moved across the room, picking up the needle Atlas had left and you sat yourself next to Caleb. "I am going to take some samples of your blood now." You informed him professionally, not wanting to take part in any conversations with him. Caleb retracted his arm when you were about to hold it and you shot him a perplexed look.
He grinned, the smile that grazed his features still the same as when you were still in love in him. "Not until you talk to me." He moved his arm further away as you reached out, determined to get things done his way. "Refusal of treatment is my right you know, y/n."
"So you challenged my authority as your main physician over a conversation that I do not enjoy holding?" You could not hold back your annoyance. There is no way he is pulling the patient rights onto you but judging from his tone and that smirk that hangs a little too comfortably on his thin lips, he sees it being his only advantage. "Your surgery is due in a few hours, we have to run the labs to make sure you are are good to go."
"Annnnd who says that I would not cooperate? I would do so elatedly if you were to cooperate with my wishes first, y/n. It shouldn't be that hard right?" Caleb tilted his head slightly to get an answer out of you. Another sigh left your chest cavity and you leaned back, staring past him as you waited for him to speak. Seeing your motion in defeat, the colonel too, leaned back against his bed. "I know that things had taken a turn for worse since the last we met, y/n."
Rolling your eyes, you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from cursing, but still failing to let cruel words slip through. "Oh, don't flatter yourself, I have been doing just fine without you being around." Not after a confession that was left unanswered of course. The colonel's eyes scanned over you, superior interrogative skills kicking in to call out your sarcasm.
"Yeah yeah, no doubt. I've never said you didn't do fine. Look at you, you're a doctor." He commented, hands waving at you to signify his point. But it is not flattery you would want to hear from him. "I left because I had no choice y/n." There goes the reason you had never heard even through the whispers of the wind. "I could not reciprocate my feelings to you because I was stuck with my own, but it does not mean---"
"Save the rest." You closed your eyes, your emotions are welling up in the swell of your belly. The same emotions that you had kept shut and hidden away for years. His disappearance had left a black hole in your chest and even with his reasoning now, you are still reluctant to let him in. Maybe, you had grown too accustomed to the loneliness and change is not what you seek for. Not from the one whom had caused this in the first place. "I know that I was never your first choice. Back in the days when you had left me alone, standing under the cherry tree with a sentence promising that you will be back."
His eyes softened, guilt swimming within those purplish orbs of his. "Y/n." He called for your name and this time, you looked up daringly. Cold eyes pierced his, void of any emotions and not looking to pursue anything further other than wanting to get your job done and get the hell out of the room. But Caleb is a relentless man after all. "I was rushing to go home that day y/n." His jaw clenched, his fists too, curling up into a tight ball by the side of the bed. It is a memory that clearly affected him greatly too. "The day you confessed to me, was the same day I lost everything."
The room fell into a tensed silence, his gaze dropped, so did your defensiveness. So it was all a misunderstanding. You should have known with the way he was in a rush that day, the black smoke in the air that was pointed out by you and with his eyes widening in surprise. You should have known that it was related to him, or else why would he panic so much? And yet you still have the guts to confess to him. How would you expect him to choose you over his own family? Your inane stupidity prompted your guilt, flooding your system in an overwhelming torrent.
"I came back for you y/n." Caleb's hand snaked over the bed sheets and he placed it close enough, just enough for him to share his heat without actually touching you. Just enough for him to show that he does want you by his side but only if you are comfortable with him being around. "But I am sorry that I took so long. I didn't know exactly what to feel about losing everything I had. It was a grueling cycle and I did not want you to be wrapped up in it. So I chose to disappear because that is the only way I can deal with it."
The needle in your hand suddenly turned into an interesting accessory, with you studying it and admiring it. All just to prevent meeting his eyes as he spoke. The man that you resented over the years, learned so hard to forget and to drop out of your mind coming clean with a reason that is completely logical and even worse, you understood why he would withdraw. It was always the happiest ones that has to sit through the loneliest days by themselves. And you were blinded by the fact that Caleb, has always and will always be the happiest and luckiest guy you had ever met.
Warmth touched the skin on the back of your hand and you glanced up, taking a few silent moments to yourself as you took your time to study his features. He looked older now, still devilishly handsome but has that matured edge to it. The same amethyst orbs that once held your world now holds a fading glow. Without his colonel uniform, it is hard to distinct that this man in front of you holds the power to banish the existence of the hospital with a snap of his fingers. Your pager beeped and it broke your trance.
A small smile stretched across his lips, an apologetic one and he instructed you, stretching his arm out willingly. Thick green veins lined underneath the epidermal layer and you tracked it to the hotspot on his inner arm. "You should just take my blood and go ahead with your duty, Doctor Y/N." His voice was restrained, knowing that the pager would be more important than how he feels now.
You lifted the syringe and jabbed it in after sanitising the spot. Barely a sting, Caleb only quietly studied you. The way you were so focused on getting the vial of blood made him jealous of that medical device in your hand. But sadly, the colonel has ran out of options to get you to stay. "You will be fine." Your voice drifted to his ears, a tone so foreign yet so familiar. The care that hid behind the nonchalance. "Thanks for explaining."
Raising your head, you gave him the smallest smile you could muster and you put an animal themed plaster onto his booboo. In that exact moment, Caleb froze. Eyes hooked to the slight lift of your lips and mind kept replaying what you had said. Words got stuck in his trachea but his eyes never left you, even as you strode casually out of his room as if there was not a moment shared between the two of you. A moment of rekindled hope.
Part 2, yes? Let me know if you have any requests too :)
PREVIEW: Caleb has disappeared for a while now, leaving your confession a whisper in the wind. Life went on. But what if one day, he appeared in front of you, fighting for his life. What would you do?
WARNINGS: Caleb x nonmc!, nonmc! doctor (she is but I'm not so take my medical advices with a whole bucket of salt pls), inspired by his mecha arm lore but it's my own twist on it, angst no comfort, gonna make you beg me to give you comfort heh.
NOTES: You all wanted a continuous read, so yeps, onto the choo choo train everyone and hang on tight because you will need that extra cushioning. And this time, it will kill you :)
[THE START]
Conflict of interest should be a good enough justification for the head nurse to let you off the case. Unfortunately, denied. Due to the amount of patients each doctor has to handle. You are considered lucky as your colonel is your main priority and the general had specifically marked his main caregiver to not be 'distracted' by other cases. Aka you.
"I'm sorry Doctor Y/N, I understand that you have your ethical obligations to be considered but every other doctor we have available on this floor is very overwhelmed." The nurse looked genuinely apologetic, brows furrowed and a lips probably downturned into a frown under that mask of hers. Until she suggested. "How about you get someone from your team to do the rounds? And you can just monitor and sign off the documents?" She may just come off to be your saviour afterall.
With a gentle nod, you eased a small smile towards her direction and thanked her for her suggestion. Not being able to directly confront him would certainly ease the blend of emotions circulating in your system. A beep came from the room you were just in a while ago and you turned your head. The man already sat up in his room, panic button in hand and eyes so full of hope, wishing you would step back into his zone. Not even sparing a blink nor bothering to entertain his call of 'distress', you turned and informed the nurse to keep an eye on him before you walked off.
Project Cyber Arm was approved for Caleb less than 24 hours and you were not surprised. With Caleb being one of the greatest assets to the Farspace Fleet, it is with no doubt if they could raise a dead body, they would breach the confinements of human rights and medical morale just for it. You had informed the intern to go to Caleb's room to draw blood works prior to the surgery to ensure he is in a stable condition but it did not took long till you were paged to be present in your patient's room.
You hurried over with light jogs, turning off the pager that was beeping by the side of your waist. When you nearly arrived to Caleb's room, you heard shoutings and frantic call of codes. It made your blood boiled when you noticed Caleb was refusing his blood to be drawn, nerves strained against his thick neck as he shouted, forming an invisible shield around him with his evol. "Nobody touches me!" He was upset, tip of his ears red and his jaw clenched as he mentioned his demands. "I want Dr. Y/N and only Dr. Y/N, or else I have every right to refuse treatment!"
Your presence at the door frame immediately caught his attention and it triggered your intern and several nurses to slowly turn their heads towards you. Blood rushed through your veins, flourishing your cheeks with a tinge of carmine but your heart does not know whether it wants to choose to be embarassed or angry. "What's happening here?" Your voice however, chose to cover those emotions by feigning confusion.
Atlas, your intern threw his hands in the air, a signal of defeat. "I came in to draw blood as you mentioned and when he woke up, he pushed me back and refused to let me draw any blood." With a flick of his wrist, he revealed the watch that he mentioned was a gift from his late father. "His surgery starts in 3 hours and if we do not get any blood work done, we will have to reschedule it."
Getting angry right now would not solve anything, nor would it paint a pretty image for you and Caleb's non-existent relationship. Rumours travel like wildfire in the hospital and although a few had been whispering around stating that you had wanted to reject Caleb due to conflict of interest, this commotion would only serve as a catalyst if you do not play your cards right. And the last thing you wanted was to have the term 'romance' associated in between the two of you.
Your gaze snapped to the patient in bed and you took a few seconds to analyse him. The bedraggled brunette is full of life---despite losing an arm, amethyst orbs filled with fury as he stared back at you dauntingly. With the sunlight casting a slanted downpour on his features, you do not spot any sense of faux pas radiating from his features. Caleb's need for you has seemingly eschewed him from feeling any sense of shame. He almost seemed pitiful to you.
A sigh and a small apologetic smile took place on your lips and you dismissed the intern and nurses from his room. "I'll handle this, get ready to run the labs and get the O.R. prepped." Your orders were clear and you waited till the shuffles of the feet are gone and the door thuds close. Your eyes still refused to meet his, guiding yourself to the medical cart to retrieve the equipments.
"I've been wanting to talk to you, y/n." Caleb's voice had drifted down into something milder, softer, gentler. Like a gentle breeze amongst the summer heat wave. Your hand continued moving on its own accord, guided by routine while your ears perked for him. "I was looking everywhere for you. Even after all those years."
Your lips are still sealed shut, securing two needles and an elastic band, you sat on the chair beside him ---realising that he had probably used his evol to move the chair for you to sit into---and he stretched his left arm out for you willingly. Noticing your silence, Caleb continued. "I'm sorry that I had left you all--- TSK!"
The sudden stab of the needle into his vein jolted him. "It's best if you stayed silent during the blood withdrawal to ensure enough airflow through your veins." You had to whip up some made-up theory to get him to shut his mouth before he could proceed with the uncomfortable conversation. Blood flowed into the needle and you silently cursed for the short amount of time you had to shut him up.
You removed the first needle and tapped it lightly to check for its viscosity and colour before you set it aside on the cart and proceed with the second needle. Caleb's hand found yours, enveloping your smaller hands in his and a shudder ran down the back of your spinal cord. His touch is foreign, but it was exactly how you had once imagined, rough to the touch but holds a kind of tepidness that mimics the embrace of a sunlight. "I missed you, y/n."
Hearing those words uttered by him broke your facade momentarily and it got you concerned for the space that hung between the both of you. A space so small it got you feeling claustrophobic. "I don't." You replied, tugging your slightly trembling hands out of his and you retrieve the second needle. Poking it in without hesitation and it got him wincing this time. "I just want you to be gone."
"Tell me that's not true." At the end of his sentence, you heard it faltering, a crack in his usual crisp and light voice. His fists balled harder, blood flowing faster into the needle tube. "Tell me that ever since the day I had left, you had always waited for me." His eyes are boring into your soul, if only you have any left for him to see. "Tell me that you wanted this just as much as I do."
A dampened choke in your airway indicates the surge of emotions you are bound to lose control of. You pulled out the filled needle and removed the elastic band from his upper arm and immediately put space in between the both of you. You were surprised that he did not use his evol on you this time, not when his demands for answers from you had been indefatigable. Perhaps the last time he used his evol on you, he had watched tears sprung from your eye sockets. Perhaps, that hurt him more than whatever bullet that was once caught in his body. Metal bullets puncture his dermal layer, but the bullet you shot him now, punctured straight through his soul.
You eyed the floor, your feet clicked close together as you repressed your emotions, trying to sound as calm as possible. "Do you know how many days it took? Years it took? For me to be able to not look at my phone and wish that the next notification that comes by was from you?" Maybe you had underestimated your self control. "Can you even fathom just how many days I had spent praying and praying and praying that you would just disappear from my mind without a trace?"
Caleb opened his mouth, wanting to speak but you interrupted before he could. "Don't come back here, after nearly a decade of ghosting me, leaving me in shreds, only to come up with an excuse saying that you had always been looking for me." The tremble in your voice is evident now and you are too tired to cringe nor to bat it away. You just allow it to flow, hopefully getting your point across to the stubborn hull of a man in front of you. "Caleb, I don't want whatever hope that was left for us anymore. So please, for whatever's worth, just leave after you are done."
No tears, no trail of wetness streamed down your cheeks this time, but the rock that sat on your shoulders were lifted after such a long time. Words that were left unspoken now unbinded from its restraints from the base of your chest. The relief you felt is probably the reason why your tears had failed to flow, and it also explains why your heart has finally reach the last ends of the crack, fully tearing it into two halves. For the unspoken truth was told from a broken heart.
You grabbed the needles and shoved a cotton ball onto his small puncture of a needle wound. Eyes now slowly lifting to look at him, the foretold elite soldier for the Fleet has tears rimmed around his eyes, lips pressed into a thin line and bereft written all over his face. You left the room without another word. Without another turn to face him one last time, as you too, left him to his own thoughts. An unprecedented move that shadowed his nearly a decade ago. His gaze lingered as you left, eventually staring off into nothing but imagining an eidetic image of you smiling at him through the door frame.
That night, you did not attend the surgery and it is also that night, the constant vibration of your phone woke you up, a voice travelled through the opposite end of the phone, reprimanding you to have your medical license revoked due to refusal of care. It is also the same night you had came to acknowledge that the colonel had died on the surgical table, and his cause of death was concluded by a broken heart and a longing stare into the void.
This is the end for this short piece, my gentle readers. I hope this punches you in the gut because I love to torture all of you :) Do lemme know if you want more heart-wrenching like this as this is my specialty ;)
PREVIEW: Caleb has disappeared for a while now, leaving your confession a whisper in the wind. Life went on. But what if one day, he appeared in front of you, fighting for his life. What would you do?
WARNINGS: Caleb x nonmc!, nonmc! doctor (she is but I'm not so take my medical advices with a whole bucket of salt pls), inspired by his mecha arm lore but it's my own twist on it, angst no comfort, gonna make you sob in your sheets tonight.
NOTES: I have yet to make a debut piece for Caleb. So tadaa, let's welcome Caleb into my angsty world. This is what I had in mind after 10 hours of brainstorming for story ideas. It is a shorter read compared to my other fics but we will see whether this is worth expanding on :)
CHOOSE YOUR ENDING: [BAD ENDING] [GOOD ENDING]
The siren wailed, blaring across the hallways of the ER. You lined by the hallways with your other colleagues, stethoscope dangled over your neck, hands working on wearing your latex gloves. About 30 minutes ago, you were called in for an emergency shift. Not much details were revealed about the emergency but judging by the amount of hospital staffs checked in for the shift and the lack of patients in the ER, this is indicating a mass treatment for patients that are not supposed to be kept in the hospital's records.
Everyone was silent, so silent to the point you could hear your own heartbeat thudding in your ear, accompanied by the ticking of the clock against the hospital walls. Everyone bore the same confused but readied expression, Hipprocatic's Oath at play where treating patient comes first, questions about purpose of treatment comes later. Sirens could be heard from a distance, closing in. Not one, two, but a whole lot, overlapping over one another like a parade went wrong.
Then, the doors swung opened with great force, the aluminium frame slammed against concrete as paramedics reeled in the bodies laid out on stretchers. There was blood staining both the teal uniforms of the paramedics and the uniforms of the patients. Some were missing limbs, some were crying out in horror over their own body disfigurement, some were staring into the void like they had lost hope over their treatment. Their uniform however, caught your eye. The garish, non-gilted, metallic gold of an emblem was enough for you to recognise these patients. They hailed from the Farspace Fleet.
With a holler of something incoherent, doctors and nurses alike immediately got to work, jogging over to the stretchers to start their diagnoses and respective treatments for their chosen patients. You too, scanning past the crowd to search for any unoccupied stretchers till your name was called. You whipped your head, turning to your right and in came an orange stretcher, with an all too familiar figure.
It was the colonel of the Farspace Fleet, Caleb Xia. The same guy that you had confessed to, but was met without an answer, only with his disappearance. You watched, crimson stains all over his body, hair messy, eyes closed. He has appeared in front of you, just like you once wished for, but certainly not in a state you were imagining.
"Doctor y/n." A hand tapped your shoulder and you forced your thoughts to the back of your head, immediately advancing with your team to aid him. Caleb laid unconscious on his makeshift bed, eyes closed and with layers of clothes draped heavily over him in an attempt to stop bleeding from an agape wound. Hovering over his stretcher, the triaging begins, with you pulling the heavy layers of cloth off of him, only to notice his right arm was only attached to his shoulder with a few strands of muscle and bone structure. The metallic smell of dried blood hit your nose, and the waft of rotting flesh coming afterwards fired your doctor instincts.
"Prep the O.R. now, we need to remove the arm before necrosis hits!" You ordered and everyone dashed past the busy hallways, in search for an emergency operating room to start the surgery. Your heart thudded, a dull one in fact. You did not know what was the right reaction to give him. But it did not matter now, you are tied to the Oath, nothing should matter more than to save him from dying. Even if it means it is a conflict of interest on your end.
4 hours. It took 4 hours for the surgery to end. He went into V-FIB mid way due to the severe loss of blood from his wounded arm but a few paddles onto his chest and he is brought back. Severing his arm was the only way to save him but because he is in the Farspace Fleet, losing an arm would only come off to be an advantage rather than an inconvenience. Especially when the Fleet is known for their high end technologies that works perfectly well with bio matter.
He laid in bed now, still in the midst of unconsciousness while you stood by his bed, checking through his reports for his latest lab results. At least his chart shows that he is good enough for Project Cyber Arm---as relayed by one of the personnels working for the Fleet. It seemed like saving Caleb came to be the main priority of the Fleet, which marks him to be a great asset to them. It bothered you.
Not because he does not deserve to be a Colonel. You knew he had always wanted to be in the skies, to fly and to conquer what man without wings could. But to go to such lengths, to risk his own life all for the sake of a dream? You could not understand that. Moreover, why leave you in the dark just to chase his dream? Why can't he just reject you, break your hopes about seeing anything between you two bloom past friendship and just let your feelings die?
A slight rustle of bedsheets got you lowering the charts and you noticed he was slowly opening his eyes. Those same indigo orbs that had left you loving and hating him for all those years. Your chest echoed a hollow pain, one that was nursed a while back when you realised that Caleb was never turning back to you, until now. You took a deep breath, hung the charts back by the end of his bed and approached him.
His eyes widened at the sight of you. The pain is non-existent, the grogginess that was gnawing at him did not matter, the world had stopped spinning around his vision. Because now, all he saw was you. "Y/n." His name rolled off of his lips so easily but it nearly got a wince breaking through your professional facade. "You are a doctor now." He sounded surprise, you were not acknowledging it.
"Mr. Caleb Xia." Your tone was deadpan, fishing a small flash light out of your coat and you bend down to him. "Open your eyes wider for me. I will be checking for your pupils' reactivity now." You maneuvered the flash light left and right, then to the other eye left and right. The pupils enlarged and constricted accordingly, no brain damage was detected. Till his left hand grabbed onto your wrist and you were shocked, eyes immediately snapping to his grip then to his face.
He looked utterly disheveled, eyes drooped and lips ajar, words failing to come out the way he intended. His subconcious mind was faster than his logical side of the brain when he watched you standing in front of him. "I searched everywhere for you." Years. After nearly a decade of pain, this is all he could ever muster? The coldness seared through your gaze, piercing metaphorically accurate glaciers straight through his heart. You looked at him like you did not want anything to do with him. "I became---"
"Let go." You demanded, eyes still trained on his. His hand released its grip on you, the slight warmth still emblazoned against your skin. And you observed as the spark in the nebulic irises of his slowly faded out, a galaxy losing its stars just like how you had lost whatever you had left for him.
"The surgery went well. We had severed your arm and enrolled you for Project Cyber Arm as suggested by your Major General. As of now, you are advised to take pills as instructed to help with your recovery while you await for the Project's approval." You relayed the information according to protocol, not a tinge of emotions in it as you could feel your heart struggling to break out of your chest cavity.
You turned only to notice your feet were stuck to the ground as you felt a slight force pulling you back. His gravity evol was holding you back. "Y/n." There goes the sound of your name again, dripping out of his lips so innocently as if the pain you experienced by yourself never mattered to him. "I had always wanted you." Hearing that, it shattered you. Blinking twice, you could feel the tears gushing, collecting in swirling pools around the corner of your eyes. You did not want to hear this, not after years of powering yourself on empty wishes. Not especially when you think you are better off without him occupying your head. "Y/n please, let me explain myself."
You shook your head, rigid enough for him to know that you are fighting a battle inside your head. Whether to listen or not to. A streak of warmness tainted your cheeks and you realised you could not contain the tears anymore. "I don't want you to." Your eyes, once menacing looking, had devolved into what seemed like guilt, disappointment and haplessness. "I don't want you." Abjection was clear in your voice, another stream of tears stained your lips and leaving a taste of brine in its wake. "I gave up on you when I missed you the most."
Caleb wanted to say something, wanted to hold you again but when you realised his evol no longer has a grip on you, you turned on your heel and went out of the room, snatching his charts off of the end of his bed and towards the nurse counter. The steps towards the counter was short enough for you to wipe your tears off and you handed the chart to the nurse within the station. This would be the best way. Not for him, but for you. "Nurse, I would like to request for a transfer. I want to be off of this case."
Honestly, I suck at writing such short stories but lemme know what you guys think :) Should I continue orrrr just leave it at this? HMM?
PREVIEW: Fate is a term that suggests predetermined events that are inevitable, a route that is not available to anyone's alteration. Yet, destiny, in all of its glory is defined as a path that opens up possibilities of choices and actions that one can take to change it. So, what if coincidence came under the disguise of a fate or perchance, a destiny?
WARNINGS: non-mc! reader, mixture of the boys' povs, first impression matters, mid-length read, real-life scenario applications, cutesy and cheek reddening and leg-kicking fluff.
NOTES: Maladaptive dreaming is the inspiration behind this piece, I just had the sudden lightbulb moment thinking of what-if scenarios and meeting the LnDs boys in reality would probably come across to what these scenarios depict. I'm sorry the pictures I had used are not of the best quality, but I wanted it to have the fuzzy, low res-kinda feel for first meets, where you do not really remember their faces but more of the feelings that they give you. I love giving you all my delulus and offer solulus to support y'all! Do lemme know if this should take on to another part where we dive deeper into my imaginations hehe <3
All dividers are sourced from @uzmacchiato
RAFAYEL - SUNDAY MARKET
Weekends are probably the only days you get to slot in some well deserved rest. You had initially planned to laze around at home, within the comfort of your bed sheets as you catch up on your favourite tv series. However, with an upcoming exhibition just a week away, the next episode of Love Island can wait. Hence, here you sat, in front of your empty white canvas without a single clue on what you should be drawing for your first debut piece. The pristine white canvas gawked at you, imaginary eyes forming on its plane and squinted at your lack of creativity. 'š«ššš¹š¾šš¶š š¶ššš¾šš š¹šš·ššš šš½š¾šš šøš¶ššš¶š š¶š šš¶šššš š¶šš š š¾ššøš'. Sounds like a good news headline for a weeks' worth of word-of-mouth but in exchange for bad publicity for a new artist like you. Of course, you could not risk your reputation despite it being a tempting offer.
Should you have waited any longer, your walls might start creating its own art with mold stains so you decided to put on your outing clothes to step out into Mother Natureās embrace. Perhaps, this is what you exactly needed to refresh your mind. Your feet is set to automated navigation, a built-in GPS on its own as it leads you towards the Sunday Market that is held on the outskirts of town. On days when you feel a little adventurous, going to the Sunday Market would be your go-to idea as the market features a lot of handmade bijous, often born from the hands of an artist that loves their own work. And that, is the essence of why you paint, so your artwork too, can be made of love and passion.
The sun hung lazily and brightly amongst the cloudless skies, casting its warm golden rays directly over the open-air market. The market is bustling, stalls neatly set up and decorated, lined up by the side of the road to provide access for curious shoppers to browse. Each of the stalls sold different items, some big some small, some are sold for utility while some held up as only decor. You weaved through the crowds, your notebook that is the size of your palm pressed against your chest, eyes searching for your next big break on your canvas. You walked past a store selling spices, the smell intense and piercing that it made you winced slightly. A couple stood at the front of the stall, the guy had his arm lazily draped over his significant others' shoulder as they both chattered away with the shop owner, hand gestures as loud as their verbal exchanges.
The sight was worth to draw, the genial exchange between a couple and an elderly over how spices are used for cooking and various other factors but somehow, the scene still lacks something and you hate that it gnawed at the deepest corners of your heart. How does it feel to be in a relationship like that? Where a simple outing as such can be done with your other half whom enjoys it just as much as you do? Just the thought of it left an acrid taste in your mouth but it does not suggest that you are allergic towards wanting to be in a relationship, you just happen to have expectations that nobody has managed to achieve. Yet.
You continued walking onwards, shaking your head slightly as you turned to the next stall to find more inspiration. And there stood a lengthy slim-built young man, with lilac hair that stood out from most of the crowd, dressed in a button up white shirt paired with a grey wool vest and black slacks. No mistake it screams the aesthetic of an artist and just like that, he managed to grab your attention. "Come on, this is plain fraud old man." He panned, slender digit pointed at the 'artwork' that was on display. The 'oil painting' was a blend of blue, purple and pink depicting the scene of a purplish-hued sunset but it looked more of a photo rather than a painting due to the lack of protruding brush strokes on the canvas' surface. "You can't just go around printing an artwork on a canvas and call it a rare scene of a photograph!"
His feedback got the stall owner, a balding man in his late 40s frowning, his mustache twitching out of annoyance. "Do you even have any proof of me photocopying this, young man?" Index finger pointed right back at the young man who has crossed his arms now, looking equally frustrated. Haggling is a common scene in marketplaces but a haggle for justice is quite rare indeed and it bogged you to stay.
"There is no need for any proof when I know my drawings everywhere and what you are doing now is considered a crime." His voice was calm but austere. It is any artist's nightmare for their artwork to be replicated without their knowing and seeing this plain copycat printed on an A2 sized canvas and sealed off in a mahogany frame, the artist took it as a personal jest towards his efforts. It deserves at least a pure silver frame for its magnificience. A slight glance at the painting invoked a sense of nostalgia for you, as if you had seen it somewhere floating within the depths of your memory that you could not catch onto. "Perhaps I should bring this up to my manager and lawyers then maybe we can settle--"
The seller threw both of his arms up in the air, signaling in defeat. A dour groan ensued and there comes the repining sentence. "Look young man, I was only told to sell this artwork. I do not know of the origin of this painting. I am only trying to make a living afterall." Knowing that the officials would be dousing their hand into this matter, the seller does not dare to challenge the artist in question. The purple-haired young man then stepped forward and picked up the drawing, a grimace settling onto his resplendent features. "If you want it, you can take it, I won't charge anything for it!"
You watched as the scene unfolded in front of you, the man's face had turned pallor, green eyes that held nothing but sycophancy out of fear, much like the kind of fear where he has everything at stake and he could not afford to lose any. Blame your empathy for your actions. Stepping forward, you tugged onto the canvas that the young man was holding onto and your eyes caught his. Silence ensued, but you regretted it immediately. This man is not only artistic like, but he is a work of art by himself. With fair complexion and striking purple-blue eyes, a high nose bridge and curved lips, there is no doubt that he walked straight out of a canvas. "I will pay for this." Your mouth spilled before he could say anything, his eyes widening at your approach. Not because he sees you as a challenge, but he too, had never seen someone with such beauty.
"And who are you? An accomplice of his?" He was quick to judge and you could feel yourself scoffing at his attitude. So much for looking like a carved statue, his precipitous assumption still very much suggested him being as mundane as anyone in the market. He did not let go of the photograph from his grip, his amusement surfacing at your surprised expression. It is only fair for you to be shocked at his assumptions. A daring one in fact. He now leans casually against a pole that holds the tent upright, gaze awaiting silently for you to state your reason.
You retracted your grip and crossed your arms, eyebrows closely knitted while you tried to reason with him. "Just because I wanted to lend a hand to a man who is struggling with monetary issues does not mean I am his accomplice." Stuffing your hands into your bag, you feel for your wallet only for him to beat you to it, already pulling out a fat wad of cash and he handed it to the seller, whom had probably drooled at the stack of hundreds. You were planning to give the man a hundred bill and probably call it a day and try to stop the verbal brulesque from escalating, but the young man had beaten you to it and you had never felt so humbled in your life. "What...why?"
"Who said I was never going to pay for it?" The man pushed himself off of the pole, effortlessly pushing his hair back in the direction of the wind blows. The photograph now placed in between the gap of his feet. "I too am human, I too have feelings." He lays his hand flat out, gesturing towards you and himself to indicate his point. "I can't help but pity him for doing someone else's dirty work." He looked towards the seller, the older man already relishing in his ideas on how to spend the money for the upcoming moments. Fingers running through each piece of the paper as he counts. The same monetary symbol that holds no meaning to the man whom had given it to him. "My name's Rafayel."
The introduction began and you looked at the drawing wedged in between his feet and back at his face. And you slapped your hand over your mouth, your skepticism ceded and in comes admiration. No wonder the painting seemed too familiar, you recalled that you had leafed through those uncanny brush strokes in multiple conventions. The painting that is not on sale but is always the main showpiece. It resonated with the artist, the one who stood in front of you, elegant, bold and transcendent. "You are him."
A quick look over both of his shoulders, Rafayel careened over to you in a few strides and took hold of your arm, already tugging you through the crowd like water that flows between the gaps of stones in a river. You obediently followed him, footsteps pattered across the stoned flooring to match his long strides. He snapped towards a right turn and brought you to an empty alleyway. The sunshine barely shines through, only through a small slit above where concrete roofs failed to meet, the light slanting inwards, peeking through the dark environment and forming a straight line against the brick wall. "Why are we here?"
Rafayel's head tossed left and right again, and he lets go of your arm. The subtle touch had already emblazoned against your skin. "So that I won't have to get security escorts." Of course, a famous guy like this at a casual Sunday market is a call for disaster and you mentally palmed yourself for being so careless. The painting that was held in his arms was once again put onto the floor so he has free hands to rummage through his black leather messenger bag for his sunglasses. Pulling it out, he blew the lens to rid it of any dust particles and slotted the sunglasses into his tousled hair, not in a rush to wear it in the aphotic alleyway.
You stood opposite him, feet digging into the small cracks of the stone tiles, studying its irregular patterns till he cleared his throat and you looked up at him. One of his eyebrows was raised, bluish-pink orbs darted from the notebook in your hand to your lips and then settled onto your eyes. The small interaction of his got your heart skipping a beat and you nervously nodded, rubbing the nape of your neck out of habit. "My...name is y/n." You introduced yourself, still not getting over the idea that the renowned artist stood in person in front of you. "I am a huge fan of your works and I will be making my debut at the Flux Arts Gallery next week..." Your mind blanked for a moment. Were you just about to ask him, a famous artist ---who barely knows you--- to come and see your first debut piece?
Asking a renowned artist to come forth to your debut is a suicide mission. He would have thought that you are taking up this opportunity to seek for validation from him or to simply impress him ---though you had zero confidence in your artwork despite being crowned a prodigy. But Rafayel had no such thoughts. For he saw a young woman who was crafted with such care by unspoken deities, that her delicate features are akin to her personality. The way she had shown her judiciousness today had granted herself a rite of passage straight into his soft spot. This is an artist that cares about the time and passion and effort one has to pour into making a masterpiece. This girl, in his eyes, is nothing short of a perfectionist just like him.
"I'll be there." Your heart skipped a beat when he agreed, this time a smile accompanying his handsome features. He leans closer and you could catch a whiff of his perfume. It smelled of a scent that you could only describe like a scene; a touch of sea-salt breeze with hints of citrus notes. It reminds you exactly of the painting he had done, where the sunset meets the horizon, where the skies blended along with the sea with the usage of his brush strokes and tones, the painting which he has held up in front of you now, with a messy scribble across the top right corner. When did he managed to write his number for you? "I have to go now. But text me and I'll be there."
He leans down, close enough for you to feel his breath fanned across your cheek and your face flared a sudden erubescence only visible to Rafayel's eyes. Rafayel already knew he has this effect on female counterparts, but by far, not only did you made a bang on your first impression, but knowing that you are an artist in seek of inspiration the same way he usually does, intrigues him to anticipate your debut piece. He pulls his sunglasses down to shield his dual-tone orbs and he held his hand up to brush away a stray fringe of yours to secure it behind your ear, the charming smile still on display. "I will see you soon, cutie." And without another lingering beat, he walked past you, leaving you in a daze of sea salt breeze and a cursive phone number.
SYLUS - BUSINESS TRIP
An urgent call from your boss is all it takes for you to be booking a flight ticket at the very last minute. Now, you were running though the airport, with your messenger bag in one hand and your laptop in the other. Your phone vibrated in your back pocket but because of how occupied your hands are, you could not afford the luxury of picking it up amidst the rush. "Excuse me!" The two words like a mantra falling off of your lips as you dashed through and past individuals that are clearly taking your time. Reaching the escalator, you dashed down each step, eyes training hard on the metal steps so that you would not trip but you ended up bumping face first against a hard surface and you winced.
Looking up clumsily, you watched the towering figure in front of you dressed up in a prim navy suit turned around, glasses perched on his high nose bridge, shielding a pair of carmine orbs that are sharp and obsequious. Still blocking your step forward, you muttered a quick apology and pointed at the steps below to silently ask for a way to pass through. His eyes, bereft of any judgement, simply stepped aside for you to pass him and you did, dashing past him but you slipped onto the step below him and you felt a strong grip around your waist, noticing that you had made a fool out of yourself for a second time. "I'm so sorry!" You blurted out and stabilising yourself before you are already rushing down the steps again, this time watching both the steps and any upcoming obstacles.
If you were in not so much of a hurry you would have apologise and invited the dashing young man to a cup of coffee to make up for your clumsiness but obviously time is not on your side now so you could only swallow down your guilt and clomped forward, dragging the awkwardness in your steps. When you arrived at your gate, you were relieved to see that there are still a few more people boarding the plane. Your hands templing together for a quiet gratitude to any available higher power that has heard your prayers to board your flight on time. The TV screen at the front of the boarding gate has 'LAST CALL' bolded in red. You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, seeing several missed calls and messages from your colleagues wishing you all the best on your upcoming interview.
Given that you work as a team leader in one of the biggest news reporting outlet, most of the time you will be sent out on last minute outstation interview trips as such. It does make you wonder why you would be alone in this when you had such a supportive team but your higher ups had always gave you cogent reasons, stating that you are a one person team and you are good at what you do when deep down, everyone in your team knows that this is a method for them to cut down costs. "Hi, may I get your boarding pass and passport please?" The attending steward reached out his palm and you gave him your passport and showed him your e-boarding pass on your phone.
Upon confirmation, he pulled a wide smile on you and welcomed you onto the flight. You nodded and boarded the flight, grateful that you are the last one to make it on board. Or so you thought. One good thing about a solo outstation trip is that your company is willing to sacrifice a team for your comfort, which means you get to sit in business class even for a short flight and you get to stay in presidential suites. That is the least they can do to make it up to your loneliness.
You navigated through the straight passage till you got to an open seat. Sighing in relief, you heaved your bag onto the overhead storage space and plopped down into your seat. After all of that running, you did not realised how sore your legs were till you were seated comfortably into your seat. A tall figure loomed over you and you felt an intense stare boring through your soul. "Not only did you hit my back, you made me saved you from falling and now you're in my seat. How uncanny." A deep voice rumbled and your vision snapped up and you caught sight of the same man that you had met a while ago at the escalator. The same man that you hit, who had also saved you from tumbling down the escalator like a tumbleweed and now is witnessing you sat so comfortably in HIS seat.
"I'm sorry!" You straightened up in the seat, your loudness gathered a few heads turning and you apologetically offered a smile as you stood up and looked around, spotting the seat next to him is the other one that is seemingly still empty. And you assumed it to be yours given that this is a full flight. "I...I didn't saw my boarding pass as I got on. I didn't mean to sit onto your seat, my apologies." You kept your head down as you scooched out of your seat and switched to the seat next to his. His gaze followed you, the same gaze that are impassive but held such intensity due to its vibrant hue. "You sure that is your seat?"
You rustled for your boarding pass and stared at your seat number, holding it next to the seat indicator situated above your seat and you sighed in relief when it is your seat. "Yeah." Your eyes still not meeting his. "I'm sorry for taking your seat again." You peeked at his shoes, those leather dress shoes of his shiny, refracting the sunlight coming in through the windows of the plane. He settled into his seat, not another word spoken. It was a given since you had been inconveniencing the whole time. So, with the press of a button, you called a stewardess over.
The man whom had sat in his seat is now holding a book in his large hands, eyes trailing from left to right as he takes in sentence by sentence of the bibliography of a man he cares enough to read up about. "Sir, excuse me." A gentle voice beckoned to him and naturally he raised his chin, eyes catching sight of the stewardess who is flushed at the way he stared at her. He is gorgeous no doubt, owner of an aura that is unbeatable. "Here is a champagne, courtesy from the miss next to your seat." A champagne flute finds its way onto the small eating station in front of him and he nodded graciously as a sign of acknowledgement. Then, he turned his head and caught your gaze right on this time. Your face turning beet red once he looked at you.
"I...I wanted to say sorry and thank you." You stuttered, tongue too tied to form fluent sentences. "My name is y/n." Hearing your name, the side of his lip formed a meagre smirk, adding a touch of impishness to his placid front.
"For what?" There comes the low, masculine voice of his. The plane's captain introduced himself through the sound system, informing the passengers about the flight's course but it has been reduced to white noise as the nascent conversation takes place between the both of you.
"Well," you nervously put your hands together, thumb pads pressed against one another to squeeze ideas out of your head. "I wanted to apologise for bumping into you earlier. I also wanted to say thank you when you steadied me to stop me from dying at the escalator. And lastly, I wanted to apologise about taking up your seat." You slowly raised your chin to study his reaction, but he has got his attention on the glassware in front of him.
Being an alcohol enthusiast, he deftly picked up the champagne flute and brought it to his nose to take a waft of it. Candied orange zest with the undernotes of ripe peach fruit while carrying a hint of nougat that hits the back of his throat. Taking a small sip, he savored the taste of the golden liquid swishing in his mouth and came to acknowledge your taste in champagne. "Jacques Selosse Millesime. It is a good choice to catch my interest." The way the name of the champagne rolled off of his lips sounded so smooth. If you did not know about the drink's history like the pedant you are, you may just think that he was the one who came up with that name.
The plane is landing after an hour of being amongst the skies. Sadly, he did not return the favor of disclosing his name to you and his commentary on your liquor pick was the last sentence that held up since your mind had blanked. However, you are not denying that it made you felt proud of all the times you had been preaching to your colleagues that champagne holds the status of being a bourgeoisie amongst the social status of all alcoholic drinks. Only a person with class would admire it and the man whom had given you that appraisal is a proof of it.
Once the plane had touched down, everyone had begun to rise from their seats to disembark from the flight and head off to their own destinations. Everyone seemed to be in a rush other than you and the man who sat next to you. You looked over and tried to strike another conversation amidst the wait. "So, are you here for business?"
"Yes." His reply was brief, fingers thrumming against the wooden cup holder unconsciously. He was not even supposed to be on a commercial flight. His private jet just happened to be under maintenance so he had no other options. Yet, meeting y/n in such an impressionable fashion got him wondering if this was staged by his lackeys to 'coincidentally' introduce him to a possible partner to his love life. Given how they always complained about work being his first priority and that he needs to seek a female counterpart to waste his time on so he could get off of their back and get some well deserved rest.
Standing up at his full 190cm height, his vision easily scans the overhead storage compartment and a camel brown duffel bag with your name embroidered on it got him smirking, once again. He took it out of the compartment and held it out to you. Noticing it, you quickly stood up and thanked him as you took the bag from him. This was when the crowd had started to shed themselves off of the flight. Those carmine eyes caught yours again as he draped his blazer over his broad shoulder. His slender finger reached into the front pocket of his white button up shirt and he pulled out a card.
"My name's Sylus." He tucked the piece of card into the front pocket of your jeans, noticing that your hands were occupied by the duffel bag that looked too huge for your small stature. A gesture so bold that it sent your mind into a frenzy. "Drop me a call. Perhaps we can meet up next time so you can pay up for your apology with more than just a flute of Jacques Selosse Millesime."
ZAYNE - TRAIN
The fingerprint machine whirred and clicked, the small screen indicated your name and a āclocked out of shiftā status. You readjusted your grip on your patientās file, shifting it into your dominant arm before you turned on your heel and walked down the hallway that leads towards the exit. Your flats squeaked slightly as you dragged your tired feet haphazardly across the waxed flooring. Today is one of those lucky days where you got the morning shift and clocking out at night means you would be able to settle into a normal circadian rhythm just like a normal person. However, your patient file is suggesting otherwise.
Your recent published article had gained traction amongst your peers, having to be the first one to get an approval for the drug you had created to treat protocore syndrome is a big deal for Akso Hospital. It also marks the start of the drug trial phase for shortlisted candidates and this is no time for you to kick back and relax as this crucial phase will be the determining factor on whether your drug would be revolutionary or not. You were not going to settle for anything below 80% effectivity rate. āDoctor y/n. Having an early night?ā One of the nurses situated at the nurse station asked, his eyes being the only thing visible behind the marble counter.
āYeah, gotta work on this file once Iām back.ā You replied, waving the teal file in hand high enough for him to catch a glimpse. A small smile graced your features as you bid him goodnight and headed out of the main entrance. The walk towards the subway station was peaceful, the wind being your only company, announcing its arrival by tousling your hair behind your back.
The subway station looked nearly empty, a few limn figures spaced out around like leaves on the ground during the winter. The train arrived shortly, the once empty tunnel now filled with the tube-like transport, the quiet engines hummed to a halt. The doors creaked open and you stood in line, entering the train according to order. The interior walls of the train are painted a pale blue now, making the dark red seats awfully garish. Passengers piled up against the seats, occupying it one by one and you took up one of the seats next to the vacant spot that is reserved for wheelchair users.
A figure past your peripheral vision and you sidelined your right, noticing a pair of black dress shoes that were well polished. āDoctor y/n.ā The voice was low, surprised even and you looked up, noticing that the owner of the sparkly dress shoes belonged to the head cardiologist of Akso Hospital, Dr. Zayne. You were equally surprised, your jaw slackened at the idea that he remembered you despite you had only met one another for less than five times. Twice in lecture halls held by esteemed panels, twice at an annual dinner held by the directors of the hospitals and once was during the debrief of your research thesis in the conference room.
āDr. Zayne.ā You nodded in his direction, straightening your ankle-length skirt to stand up as a show of politesse but he stopped you abruptly. āWhy are you taking the train?ā You winced slightly at how condescending your tone may have come off to the head of cardiologist but he took no mind of it. Tone is the least of his worries when he had only ended an 18 hour shift. You asked the question because you remembered after one of the annual dinner events, you were conversing with your colleagues at the entrance of the function hall till a sleek black Audi got pulled up by a valet and with Dr. Zayne getting into the ride, it earned him to be the topic of the week. The doctor with the continental sedan.
āI just ended an 18 hour shift, I donāt think driving while I am in a state of lethargy would be safe for me nor anyone on the streets.ā His answer was straightforward, as expected from a man of few words---purely based off of your last few interactions with him. The conversation dimmed, not because you had no topics in mind, but you took note of him just ending a long shift. He must have been half awake by now but he beat you to the extension of the conversation. āCongratulations on your approval for the third phase of the drug trial. It was an impressively written thesis.ā
His bold comment got you biting your lip out of nervousness. Hearing him giving off compliments is like hearing a cat bark like a dog. It is that rare of an occurrence. āYouā¦you actually read it?ā A silly question to ask, but his thin lips pulled up into a thin smile, coiffed hair drooped slightly as he put his weight against the clear window panes, shifting onto a stance that would make any orthopedists frown.
āIt is a research paper afterall and it directly relates to an opportunity of treatment for my patients.ā He nodded towards you, hazel-green eyes held such sincerity that it made your heart bloomed with a sense of self-achievement. āDo you have any shortlisted candidates that are from the cardiology wards?ā
You sat up, back ramrod straight and you leafed through the file in your hand, vicariously scanning through all of the patients names and identifying their assigned wards. āI donāt see any yet.ā You suggested, head still buried in your file. āBut recently I heard from the nurses that your department has been experiencing a huge influx of patients with protocore syndrome, is that right?ā
āThat is right.ā His tone dipped, taking on a solemn note. He looked almost helpless for a mere second. āThat is why when I heard about your research, I wanted to lend a hand.ā This time, Zayne eyed you, hazel-green orbs shaded by shadows of his fringe when he leaned down slightly to look at your list of patients. But, during those board panel meetings that are usually held on the end of every month, all heads of a department are required to sit together in a huge conference to report on the cases of the month and to occassionally throw in some gossips here and there.
Zayne has heard your name one too many times from the Emergency Department. Words like 'diligent', 'smart', 'on-time' are amongst the few words tied personally to you. And now, seeing you in the train, right next to him, Zayne relishes with the words that he had often heard associated with you. Add on resplendent, decorous and refined into the personality-o-book for you. He could tell the ardent passion you have towards treating your patients just by the way you are staring so intensely through the list.
You, on the other hand, was panicking slightly at the way he had asked for your research to be applied to his department's patients. You had always known Dr. Zayne to be very capable and because of it, you knew the risk of getting panned would be far greater and diffidence inched its way at the back of your mind. Not to mention having a slight crush on Dr. Zayne makes you even more nervous than ever. You stammered. "I...I don't want to cause any trouble for you, Dr. Zayne."
The train eases to a slow stop, metal creaked and groaned against the cold metal tracks, the impassive mechanical voice of the announcer echoed in the background, announcing the station name and precautionary measures as part of the protocol. You are already here at your stop. How long did the conversation took? You hastily stood up, again smoothening your skirt to avoid any crumpling of the fabric. You gave the doctor next to you a small, polite smile and walked past him towards the train doors, but he called out for your name, making you halted in your tracks and you looked over your shoulder to catch his lingering gaze.
"Come meet me at my office tomorrow," He stood at the opening of the train doors now, still positioned within the belly of the train, his smile mimicked yours, a small tug at the end of his lips. His tone makes his decision absolute. "You do not have to do this alone, y/n."
CALEB - BISTRO
You glanced at your phone as you walked under the awnings of shop lots to shield yourself from the sudden downpour. Not only were you late for your blind date, karma had caught on by casting a heavy rain at the moment you stepped out of your humble abode. With the lack of time on your end, you ended up with the ends of your ankle length dress soaked. A low hum could be heard even amidst the loud pitter and patter and you fished your phone out of your handbag to see that your date of the night is ringing you.
"Hey...are you still coming?" This is the first time you heard his voice, it sounded gentle, hesitant and concerned. All this while, you had only conversed with him via texts and his voice did not seemed to match the clipped texts he would usually send you. You were expecting a deeper voice, one that carries more aura of an older gentleman, not like an older brother kind of vibe.
The introduction of this blind date was a courtesy from your colleague at work, after hearing your failed blind dates for time and time again, she had decided to introduce you to an eligible candidate, a guy whom her best friend knows. All she did was shove a number into your face and asked for you to be in touch with him. It took you two days to muster up the courage to be the first one to text the unknown number. A short and simple introductory message.
No emojis, no love bombing flirtatiousness, just straight to the point. It was almost as if he had done this way too much, wanting to zoom over this date out of fulfilling a favour from a friend who was just trying to help. Your assumptions of him a reflection of how you felt of this meeting too. Without much thought, you glanced at the calendar that sat on your desk and you took up your pen, blue ink scrawling, filling in the empty space on your schedule for this Friday.
Back to present, your phone held onto your ear, your eyes darting left and right, trying to find the next awning you can shield under as you proceeded further down the street to the bistro that he had made a reservation at. The bistro that is safely tucked away at the end of a dead street, where no shadows are seen lingering on a usually busy Friday night. Makes you wonder why did he bother making a reservation at an obscure location but at least it shows his effort.
"Yeah, I am just caught up in the rain." You replied hastily, quietly muttering curses under your breath as you hopped over a puddle. The neon signboard gleamed at the end of the street, tinting the shop's window with an eerie crimson glow. "Sorry for making you wait, I am almost there. I will explain everything." And you hung up on him, pulling up the ends of your dress and you dashed towards the entrance, rain splattering onto your skin.
Pushing opened the heavy wooden doors of the bistro, you were enveloped in warmth generated by radiators, the bistro buzzed alive, with people conversing, laughing and a live band playing jazzy tunes to fill the ambience. You are very very wrong about this being a dead place, for this bistro is probably the only lively shop that stood alone amongst the quiet streets.
Nobody bothered to bat an eye at you and you felt grateful for not catching any attention. You scanned the crowd briefly and landed on a guy sat near the wall, a few tables near to the bar and the furthest away from the small stage. He was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, the soft light casting a glow against his features. He is the only one sitting alone and you beelined straight to him, all the while smoothing out your hair so at least you look a little presentable, eventhough you were soaked.
Moving closer, the figure you were eyeing comes closer to your view. He is young, probably around your age, a newsboy hat adorned on his head, with a black jacket worn over his white shirt underneath. His shoulders are broad, making his head sitting like a tiny rock on a huge boulder. "Hi." You approached the corner of the small table and he looked up. He is drop dead gorgeous. Brunette hair that falls over his forehead, framing his defined jaw. His eyes the shade of dark violet under the dim glow of accent lights, clear and expressive.
"Hey..." He trailed off, eyeing your face and then angling downwards, his lips parting open when he is the first one to take in your disheveled state. "You are soaked." His tone came off to be concerned and he quickly stood up. Only then you noticed his towering height, his baby face not a very good measurement for his body proportions. "Are you cold?" He approached you, taking off his jacket immediately and wrapped it over your small figure, the ends of his jacket reached the mid of your thighs. "Wait for me here, I will grab some tissues or something for you."
You wanted to tell him it was not necessary but he had already spun around on his heel, maneuvering through crowds and occupied tables towards the bar. Your heart skipped a beat. Not expecting Caleb to be giving you such a good impression to begin with ---or maybe that was how traumatised you were from your past dates. He came back a few minutes later, an apologetic smile grazed his soft lips and he handed you a few pieces of towels, too small for the body and too big for your face. "They only have these towels that are used to wipe the bar table. But don't worry, these are clean."
You took the towels off of his grip and started to dry yourself off, first by throwing one over your hair and you plopped down into the chair, wrapping the ends of the towel around your neck to make it look like a makeshift scarf. "Thanks." You readjusted yourself, placing your bag onto the floor and you extended a hand towards him, a smile now shown on your face.
Caleb sits himself down and took your hand, giving you a firm shake. He gnawed at the inside of his cheek, trying to contain his amusement when this is the first time he had been on a blind date where his date is soaked and could care less about her aesthetics. Perhaps, she too, had been on too many dates just like him. "I thought you were a no-show." He retreated his grip and relaxes in his seat, slumping his shoulders slightly.
"Of course not." You scowled, a pout followed soon after. "I was late because I was caught up with paperwork. I'm sorry again for making you wait." Caleb sighed in relief, his palm coming up to rub the back of his neck to soothe his nerves. You were nothing alike to what Simone had described on the phone. She did mention that you are small in size and that is by far the most accurate description of you. However, Caleb sees no sign of a shy individual. Only a well-mannered one. As of now.
This blind date has been one of the most smooth-sailing one. With conversations held up on both ends, questions and answers given and taken. You had got to know of his age and occupation and you could not believe the guy in front of you, with such gentle features and warm personality, is a pilot, upholding the position of a colonel in fact. For he, had never figured that you are part of the Hunter's Association, a lead engineer in charge of designing and tinkering a melange of leading technological weapons for the hunters. So that is how you got to know Simone.
"Say, y/n." His eyebrow arched upwards, a hint of amusement in his voice. He picked up the jar of water and refilled your glass swiftly, halting his actions when the liquid fills up to the brim of your cup. "How many blind dates have you been on?"
Seven. That was the answer that you had given him and you threw the question right back at him, anticipating an amount similar to yours. "Fourteen." Double that instead. Caleb throws his head back, chuckling when he saw your mouth dropped opened and he clears the question that is already churning at the back of your mind, his tone still lighthearted. "They either ghosted me mid way or just wasn't my type. Some talk too much about themselves, some wanted to jump right onto bed with me and some just care more about the time to leave than to talk."
You cleared your throat and sit up in your seat, taking a small sip out of the cup that he had filled for you. "How could someone just ghost you without even meeting you? You are pleasant to talk to." Your compliment rolling off of your tongue so easily and this is challenging for you to do on your past dates as it may come off to be ego-stroking for your date. "I enjoy my time with you."
Caleb's eyes glinted, a gleam of hope flashed past his pupils, his eyes trained on you. Under the soft lights, with the towel still draped on top of your hair, he finds you to be adorable, a woman who holds so much respect for herself and also for others. Admirable to him. "Yeah, y/n. I enjoyed my time with you too." His phone cut through the comfortable silence with a shrill ringtone. He muttered a short apology to you and picked up. "Yeah, Caleb speaking."
His whole demeanour shifted from warm to icy cold, gaze narrowing at the empty space he was staring at on the ground as he tried to listen to the voice on the other end. You watched as he pinched onto the gentle slope on his nose, eyes closing for a few moments to dull out his frustration. "Yeah. I'll be there in a few." And he tapped the big red button on the screen to end the call and his head turned to you again, the stern gaze faltered back into an easygoing pair. "Sorry about that, I just got a call from my liutenant, they need me for an emergency mission."
You blinked in response, realising that he is indeed not joking about his line of work. He did spoke briefly about emergency missions before being cut off by the waiter who fetched a new jar of water over to your table and the conversation turned towards you, with him asking you about your nature of work. "It's okay. I understand." You nodded your head, already standing up to gather your items. "I can go back from here, you should head on for your mission."
You pulled the cloth off of your hair and folded it, laying it onto the table neatly. Caleb stood up from his seat and walked over to you, hand gesturing towards the exit and he escorted you out of the bistro. "I'm sorry I can't fetch you back, y/n." He spoke as he followed you out of the doors of the bistro, the sounds shut off after the heavy wooden doors closed behind him.
"Caleb, it's really okay! It is not raining anymore and my house is just nearby. I will be fine." You reassured him, hand coming up to gently pat him on his shoulders.
Till his hand caught onto yours, those big warm hands envelop your smaller ones with such ease and you gasped lightly, looking up to catch his gaze. He is still smiling, the kind of smile that showcases his sincerity. "Thank you for coming today, y/n. I can't wait to see you for our next date." And he planted a light kiss onto your knuckle, making you blush furiously. "I'll be back soon." He lets go of your hand and leans down, tugging his lips into a wide smile, the type that says that he will be back, then he walks past you, turning the corner and disappearing out of your sight, with his jacket still smelling of fresh detergent resting comfortably on your small shoulders.
XAVIER - FRIEND GATHERING
Finals had just ended and the holidays had just started. And this marks the start of parties to celebrate both of the occasion. Of course, being the social butterfly you are, it is no exception for you to be included in their parties. One of it being a hotpot gathering held by your soon-to-be employer, Charlie. The gathering also held another significance to Charlie, for he shall be taking over his father's time-honored bakery shop and he wanted to host a celebration for it too.
Your attendance is much required as a friend and also as his employee so you agreed without much thought. It is also tempting when he mentioned that he had invited a few other friends of his from other universities to join in on this social gathering and that was what got you to nod your head at his offer too. It is about time for you to meet some new people and to broaden your social circle and who knows, it may be an added bonus if you get to find a boyfriend material amongst the haystack.
"How is the prep coming along, y/n?" Charlie's voice echoed off of the walls, hand diligently whacking the whipped ream in the stainless steel mixing bowl of his. You were only supposed to be attending the party as a guest and yet here you are, stuck in the kitchen preparing the delicacies for the party. But, as much as you did not feel like ding it, you could not escape his nags, especially when he is going to be your employer. "Do you need any help?"
"No, I am good here." You replied, meticulously piping freshly whipped cream from his mixing bowl onto the cupcakes that are fresh out of the oven. The kitchen is now a mixture of different artificial flavours, but all held the same component of being made out of refined sugar, inhale anymore you think you may end up with diabetes. Charlie is a preacher for sugary desserts, believing in the faux idea that sweet desserts are always the key to happiness when you think money can have just the same amount of effect. "I am almost done with the cupcakes."
"Good, when you're done then maybe you can help me set up the table first." The busy mane hollered and you whipped your head around to see that his face is a mess, powdered sugar sprinkled over the tip of his nose and his right cheek. Like a powdering gone wrong. You silently pointed at the messy spots, hand clamped over your own mouth to stop yourself from bursting out of laughter. "Is there something on my face?"
Shrugging casually, you chuckled and left him to his own demise. Quickly rushing out of the kitchen and headed towards the dining room. The theme of the party if a mixture of black and white, the gloomy colours being such a stark contrast towards the cupcakes made in an array of loud colours. Maybe that is what makes the colours pop. But regardless, Charlie is in the baking industry and interior designing is never his strong suit given the mixture of aesthetics that can be found across different rooms. You neatly placed the tray of cupcakes onto the center of the table. Noticing how naked the whole table is. "Charlie, you mentioned that the rest of them will be bringing food over, right?"
"Yeah, we are only in charge of baked foods for desserts." His loud voice echoed from the kitchen, the clanging of metal against metal still very much ongoing. Right when he was about to be done, the doorbell rang twice, making you jump slightly at a foreign sound that does not consist of the metal's clank. "Open the door, y/n."
"On it!" You careened over to the wooden door, not even bothering to check through the peephole and you swing the door open and you caught sight of a few familiar faces lighting up with wide grins. "Hey guys!" You bid your classmates, giving them high fives as they lined up to enter the entrance, all with different kind of trays in their hands. Good. Food is piling up onto the naked table.
The last face in line stood with lips slightly ajar, in an awkward manner as he held onto a tray of what seemed to be strawberry flavoured jello covered with a thin layer of cling wrap. His face was smooth, absent of freckles nor any pimples, as if puberty had never grazed his features---or maybe it did and he just got super lucky. His round eyes gleamed a cerulean blue akin to the sea and the skies, and his blond hair lazily brushed that it lays naturally flat on his head. He is probably from another university as you had never seen a guy within your social circle with such effeminate features. "Hi." Even his hi sounded awkward.
"Hey there, welcome! I am y/n, Charlie's friend and you are?" You gestured to yourself as you introduced your own name and you slowly trailed off when you lay your palm flat towards his direction, egging him to continue on with his self-introduction.
"I am Xavier, I am a friend of a friend who is also a friend of Charlie's I guess." He spoke, voice gentle and almost sounding in question marks most of the time. Not only is he awkward, he also seemed to struggle with decent self-explanation skills. It does add on an innocent charm to his personality. Without further ado, you beckoned for him to come in and shut the door behind him.
The party went on, with more and more people piling up into the space of the once hollowed house. Charlie was busy entertaining his friends and his friend's friends. So it left you standing aside in the corner, sipping onto a mixer that tasted like a mixture of ginger ale and some dollar store Sprite. So much for being a self-proclaimed social butterfly. Maybe you had underestimated the crowd and you have to admit that you lack the social skills to fluently blend into a group of close-knitted strangers.
"Hey." A strangely familiar voice called out from your left and you turned your head, meeting the blond-haired guy who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here. Ah, yes, Xavier is his name. "Are you okay?" Rocking the same red cup as yours, he took his stand next to you, leaning against the wall for support. "You don't look like you are having a lot of fun."
You took a swig out of your cup, emptying the contents of it with a slight frown. "The same can be said for you too, no?" You smirked, glancing sideways towards him. "You look like you would rather be at home than here now."
His eyed widened slightly, long lashes fluttered with every motion and his hand came up to rub the back of his neck, his ears slowly turning to a pinkish shade. "I...I don't really like being around people." As expected. "I came here because my friends told me that it was going to be a games night." He raised his cup towards the crowd surrounding a table, playing beer pong. "But I was expecting video games instead of this."
Sensing for a heroic notion, you smiled and tilted your head towards the widely opened door. "Wanna get out of here?" You offered and he nodded almost immediately. Then, you grabbed onto his wrist and started dragging him out of the party, away from the noises and to the backyard where the loud noises are drowned out to the white noises. You went to the furthest edge of the backyard and plopped yourself down onto the grass, placing the red cup next to you and he mimicked you.
"Y/n right?" He asked for your name, eyes studying you. After you nodded in confirmation, he continued. "Thanks for bringing me out here." And he watched as you seeked for his gaze. This scene that unfolded in front of him got his heart twisting with a slight pang. Xavier may have been to a couple of parties, but most of the time, he knew he would be the one to sit in the corner and maybe sneak out whenever his friends are too drunk to notice his existence. It has always been the same routine for him. But today, you broke that routine of his and it got Xavier smitten with you.
You smiled, your eyes curved into an eye smile and underneath the moonlight's bath, you looked ethereal to him. A saviour, an angel that does not require wings to grant him his freedom. "No biggie, I just thought it wouldn't be nice to feel so alone amongst a crowd." The way you explained your reason with a chuckle got Xavier sighing in return. The both of you are not that different afterall.
Xavier pulled his phone out of his back pocket, clicking a button and the screen lit up and he navigated through the home page to get to his contact list. With a tap on the add new contact, he handed his phone over to you, the blinking white bar awaiting for your input. "Next time, let's go out by ourselves?" You glanced at the phone and back u at him, and back to the phone again. Did he really just asked you out on a date? Seeing your tardy reaction, his lips thinned into a fine line and he retracts his arm. "It's okay if you---"
"Of course we can!" You snatched the phone out of his grip and deftly filled in your contact number and name, a small smile resurfacing onto his handsome features. "I...I just wasn't expecting you to pull a move like that."
This time a small chuckle escaped his lips, his hair bobbed left and right when he lightly shook his head in response to your statement. "Just because I am an introvert doesn't mean that I stick to moves that only further suggests me to be an introvert." He took back his phone from your hand, a satisfied smile showing when he stared at the technological brick in his hand for a brief moment before shoving it into his pocket again. His eyes meet yours again and this time, it casted a silvery light borrowed from the moonlight's rays. "You made me want to step out of my own comfort zone."
Preview: The LnDS boys reacting to you falling ill.
Dividers sourced from @uzmacchiato
RAFAYEL
You are in deep trouble. Falling sick is one of the big trouble, but in your kitchen lies another big trouble. You could smell something light brewing in the air, your sense of smell had slowly regaining its abilities after you had fallen ill for nearly the span of a week. And it is also within the span of the weekend, it earned you the other prized trouble that had stepped himself through the frame of your door, eyes glinted with fire brighter than his evol.
Seeing you being in a weakened state, Rafayel questioned no further; forehead creases ironed out, whines stuck at the back of his throat, frustration dimmed down to understanding and he simply swooped you off of your feet and tucked you safely back into your bed. Not sparing you another glance, the man graciously carried himself out of your bedroom and straight into your kitchen to prepare something for you to replenish your weakened body. Porridge being the first delicacy he could think of.
After 30 minutes, he reappeared by your bedside, with a tray of food and a wet towel draped across his arm. He slowly sat down next to you, by the edge of the bed and spoke, his voice firm but gentle. "How long have you been sick? 2 days?" He assumed from the day you did not reply to his texts, was the day you fell ill. Your nod made him lowered his eyelids, concern overtaking him and he slowly sat you up. "I made you some porridge. Let me feed you."
Rafayel babies you, blowing onto the porridge and muttering how hot it is before he feeds it to you, with a hand under your chin to wipe off any spilled droplets. The wet towel he had prepared now sat on top of your head, cooling your heat down. You did not contact Rafayel when you were sick because you knew that recently he has a painting that is due soon and he was struggling to find inspiration for it. The last thing you wanted was to disturb him. "I'm sorry." Your apology was sincere and it softened the sea god's tide.
He was worried that he was going to lose you again, or maybe you simply do not require him being around you anymore. He had to come over, he had to check for sure that he would not be met with an empty house. And he was glad that he came as seeing you wrapped up in the blanket, with glistening eyes and a lack of your usual volubility, he was only upset that you did not seek for his aid. A small smile found its way onto his thin lips and Rafayel pressed his lip against your heaty cheek, as if he had read through your thoughts. "Don't worry about me. It hurts me when you do not rely on me to be your anchor."
CALEB
"Hey pipsqueak, what's---" Hearing your heavy breathing on the other line, Caleb's brows furrowed, gaze sharpened against the pendulum that sat on his mahogany desk in his office. "Are you okay?" He asked, finger unconsciously tapping against the wooden surface while he waits for your answer. Upon hearing you saying that you had fell ill, the colonel was quick on the discharge from his duties, already applying for leave and off he went in his private ship. From SkyHaven to Linkon.
A one hour trip is only 20 minutes for him as the siren was what helped him to get past traffic with ease. No protocols are bound to him especially when y/n is on the other end waiting for him, not to mention when she is sick and she needs him. Slotting his key into your lock, he walked into your house and headed straight to your bedroom. Seeing you in such a disheveled state, the colonel persona has dissolved. Only Caleb remained.
The man strides over to you in a few steps, taking off his gloves at the meantime and he would touch your forehead, frowning when he realised that your temperature is high. Caleb himself would have insisted on you to go to the hospital to get treatment. He is a colonel and that itself comes with perks, inclusive of VVIP treatment at the best hospitals in SkyHaven and Linkon. But knowing you, you would be too stubborn to leave the comfort of your own home and Caleb respects that. Furthermore, being at home with you allows him to spend some personal time with you. "Hey, come on, let's get you washed up."
He is very gentle with you, like a porcelain in his grip. He would use a warm towel to help you rub your body. Despite being half naked in front of him in your undergarments, he made no attempts to crack any dirty jokes. His focus only on cleaning you up before tucking you back into bed. He takes on the role of a very good caretaker. Fresh bedsheets before you sleep, water and pills constantly on time, and he never disturbs you from your rest. Even when he gets into the bed next to you, he makes sure that the dib in the bed goes unnoticed by you, whom is deep in slumber.
Caleb is the type of man who will take days off just to nurse you back to health. And when you hold onto his hand sometimes while he is either feeding you or checking your temperature, he would catch your gaze and plant a comforting kiss onto your forehead. A smile would be present on his face when he sees you slowly getting better under his nursing. "I'll always be here to take care of you, even if you don't want me to. Remember that." The last words he muttered to you before you drifted back into your sleep after taking your medicine.
SYLUS
Sylus is not the one to loiter around Linkon unless necessary and one of those times would include you being sick. The scary mafia boss of the N109 zone would be stuck in your one bedroom apartment, maneuvering around tight corners of your house just to make sure that you are taken care of. How about his work? He would have everyone gather at your house. Luke, Kieran and of course Mephisto. Having Sylus care for you while you're sick is like having the whole village on his tail. "Can you all be silent for once?" He would hang this sentence by the side of his mouth to warn the rowdy bunch, afraid that they might wake you up from your recuperation.
"Sweetie, you have to eat this." Pills are what you hate and seeing your flagrant expression despite you being half alive in bed makes the Onychinus leader bow to you. "Alright, suit yourself if you do not wish to consume such medication." He would not press you into eating it, but he waits. He knows that until a certain extent, when your fever gets to high and your toes get too chilly, you would have to flush the pills down your throat.
Honestly, having Sylus around when you are trying to rest in your own humble abode is probably the worst idea. Your walls are thin and that explains the subtle ting clink ping noises you may hear throughout the night hailing from your living room. A bathroom trip would be a game of preventing yourself from tripping because he would have his machinery boxes stacked at your already narrow hallway sometimes. He could not leave you alone, all vulnerable and sick so he may as well 'move in' to your place.
"My sweetie is finally ready to stay with me?" His head tilted, amused at the way you stood at the hallway, with frustration brimming at the edge of your tired eyes. The blanket draped over your small body, pairing with your bedraggled hair made you looked like you had a good sleep. Or moreso that is what the Onychinus leader wants to believe. Seeing you yawning and refusing to budge nor to say a word, he would push himself off of your small couch and go over to you, slowly wrapping his arms around you and guiding you back to bed.
Sylus would lull you to sleep in his arms, yet again, not going to force you to move in with him. But this does not mean he would not try to buy you a bigger house next time, favouring the excuse that if you were to fall sick next time he can simply move in and not cause any disturbances to you. To him, it shall be a win-win situation.
XAVIER
Being your neighbour and your colleague, the day you are missing a mission is the day he would already be on his toes asking Captain Jenna regarding your absence. Knowing that you had taken a sick leave, Xavier would be the type to prep himself prior to meeting you. Running errands to pick up food, medications, cooling pads and anything he can possibly think of for a patient. Being your boyfriend, it is only natural for him to have a spare key to your apartment.
Waltzing in just like his own home, he would set everything he had bought onto the table before meeting you in your bed. "Hey, y/n." His smile would be gentle, concerning even as he goes over to you, thermometer in his hand and another bag filled with medications in his other hand. "I'll check onto your temperature alright?" He will put the thermometer under your tongue and analyse the temperature. His phone would also have a checklist opened for each of the symptoms suitable for each of the medicines he has.
"So, you have a runny nose, minor coughs and your throat feels itchy. And your temperature is around 39 degrees." he would check the list accordingly and prepare the medications for you accordingly. Surprisingly, although Xavier is not a doctor, but he takes the pharmacist's words seriously as he would wish for you to get better as soon as possible so you may join him on the field again. "That would indicate that you have a cold. I believe paracetamol would do the trick."
Cooking is not his strongest suit that is for sure, but that does not mean he does not lose out on any other efforts. He does not take offs because most of the cases that he is working on would be related to you and he would not want to miss out on it. But, this would directly make him try harder when he goes for the missions alone and to collect information so he may come back earlier to you and brief you about it in case you are energetic enough to hear about work from him.
He does not particularly enjoy talking about work to you while you were sick but seeing you listening in on the mission details beats you lying in bed whining about not wanting to be sick so he would gladly tell it to you. "Y/n, I think that is enough mission talk for a day. You should rest up so when tomorrow comes, you can feel better and hopefully, you can fight by my side."
ZAYNE
It comes with the territory of being a doctor. Zayne is a natural caregiver and when you did not reach out to him for a couple of days, he had to call in short for his business trip and rush back to Linkon and drive directly to your place. He has a spare key but he does not bother using it. There is always a reason to you not responding to him but this time when you went radio silent on him without a valid reason, he wanted you to give him the verbal comfort. Or more like a visual comfort. You stood at the doorway, with tissues stuck up both of your nostrils and your eyebags heavier than ever. You had fallen ill. "Zayne." You sounded surprised of course, your voice laced with guilt.
"I got worried." He is straightforward but gently turns you around and guides you into the house, sitting you down onto the couch and urging you to lie down. Shedding his coat to hang it by the door and he walks over to you to take your temperature, presence immediately taking place to be your primary caregiver just like in the hospital whenever you visit but now only adorning casual clothes. "You did not ring me up for the past few days. I had to make sure you were alright. Why did you not tell me that you had fallen ill?"
After hearing you stating that it was accidental, where it came in a form of a heatwave at night and you were too weak to grab your phone to charge it and it had died and you were stuck in bed the past few days just trying to heat yourself up to the best of your might. Zayne does not judge, he never does. But he could have wished that he was here sooner. A part of him felt guilty for not being here but seeing you being able to at least crawl out of bed now gives him the solace that the past few days was worse than this moment now. "Wait here."
Of course the doctor has a medical kit in his car. It is equipped with all of the medications he need for a scenario like this. He was somewhat proud of himself for preparing this kit because he finally got to use it today, and what is more special than to being able to use it on his beloved. "Take this medication. It will help in reducing your runny nose and your headache." When it comes to taking medicine, there is no option for you to say no to the doctor in front of you because you know he would find a lot of ways to sneak it into your food or drink. So, to save him the trouble, you might as well just take it in front of him.
"If you are sick again next time," Zayne would lay a comforting hand onto your cheek, lightly cradling your face as you had your head against his shoulder. "Just reach out to me. No matter how hard it is. At least try to get to me." His thumb draws mindless circles against your face, a reminder to you that he is physically there. "No matter how busy I am, I will always make time to be there for you y/n."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
Hello my gentle and beloved readers, my Zayne Li Shen fic (aka Apprenticeship ft Sylus Qin Che) is nearing its end and I would be more than grateful to write an ending that my readers would wish to have! You depict the ending and I, as the author shall abide and write as you wished! Each character has its own explanation on how they dismiss themself from the story and you will have to read it to know hehe :)
Thank you so much for participating in this journey of mine and I hope my work of Li Shen and Qin Che in Apprenticeship would be able to stain your soul with its angst!
Preview: The LnDs boys reacting to you customising a plushie with their face/your face on it.
Dividers sourced from @uzmacchiato
RAFAYEL
The artist had never scoffed so hard in his life, hands shielding his face in terror, as if the plushie that you held up to him would eat him alive. It would most likely haunt him for a while. He took a step back as you neared him. "What is that y/n?" He asked, index finger rapidly pointing and retracting towards the small puffer fish plushie in your grip, with his face plastered at the front of it. Moreover, the picture you had chosen was from the time he had lost the Kitty Card Game and was displaying a full on pout. Although he did pestered you to delete the picture, it was safe to say that it was not entirely eradicated from your delete folder. Hence, you ended up customising the awry picture of his into a plushie in order to commemorate his loss.
"I think it's adorable Rafayel!" It is your turn to pout now, turning the plushie around to have a good stare at the face, proud of the candid picture you had saved. His scrutinizing gaze shows that he is far from being impressed.
"Why would I want to stare at something so hideous when I can look at myself in the mirror everyday and be content with it--" His complaining came to a halt when you were flipping through the contents of your bag and you fished out another plushie, but this one has your face on it. A picture that he had taken of you during your date at the garden, where you are perched against a rose bush with a wide smile. That is one of his favourite pictures of you afterall. "Now this is what I call adorable."
He nonchalantly snatched the plushie off of your hand, holding it up above his head towards the ceiling. His gaze softened at the sight of your picture. All of a sudden, a supposed hideous plushie is now a prized possession of his. "Obsessed?" You teased him, walking up to him and he casually slings his arm around your waist to pull you close to his side, a smile now stapled onto his handsome features. You held up the plushie you were holding to pair it next to his.
"Yes, and I always will be. Thanks for this precious gift, my silly girl." And he pressed a kiss against your temple, earning your priceless giggle in return.
ZAYNE
"Zayne!" You called out to him as you rushed in through his garage door, your breaths now turning into pants as you had ran all the way from the subway station to his house. The doctor was wide eyed, staring at you like a madman as he was not expecting you to appear in such a rushed state.
Pushing his car door open, he stepped out of the car, still in his formal outfit as he had just got off of work after a 12 hours shift. "Y/N, what's the matter? Are you hurt?" He approached you, hand reaching up to cup your cheek and he started analysing your red-tinted face, the winter breeze is clearly catching on to you. "You could've---what is it?"
You did not let him finish his sentence and you pulled out a jasmine plushie, in the middle of the petals is a printed picture of your face on it. One with you sticking out your tongue, a routine behaviour of yours when you are feeling mischievous around him. "I attended a game event and this is the prize I got! I even got it customised with my face on it just for you!"
Zayne looked down at the plushie that got you so excited and he sighed in relief, knowing that you are safe and sound is all the matters. Now, he focuses onto the jasmine plushie in your hand. "What is the purpose of you making this for me?"
His question got you lowkey offended, a hand coming up to grab the plushie out of his grip but you could not even pry it away. The doctor's eyebrow is raised, veins protruding slightly against his knuckles as you realised that he is not even planning to let go. "I wanted you to have this so on the days when I am not around, this will help you to get by."
"Y/n." His call for your name is gentle, affectionate even. And you looked up at him. His hand that was still cupping your cheek moved to the back of your neck and he slightly leaned down to press his lips against yours. A chaste kiss as a sign of gratitude. "I do not wish for a plushie to help me get by the days where you won't be around when there is technology at our disposal. But, given that you went out of your way to get this for me. I will consider keeping it close to me."
XAVIER
"So, what did you got?" Xavier got out of the booth after he had changed back into his normal outfit. Glint Photobooth had once reached out to the both of you again, requesting for the both of you to participate as their models for the upcoming themed photobooth. Given that the both of you had nowhere else to be on a casual Saturday, Xavier and you decided to go along with the plan and in exchange, the both of you are able to pick out a customisable gift as your form of payment.
"Oh, I got this. Surprise!" You pulled out a white huggable bunny plushie and shoved it to Xavier. The blond young man held up the bunny plushie and you watched as his lips upturned into a smile. You were expecting a horrified expression from him, but given the opposite, curiosity got the best of you. "Are you not weirded out by my face being the bunny's face?"
"It's funny." He chuckled, finger smoothed over the ironed on patch of your face on the plushie's face. The lenticular printing shows two sides of your expressions; one with you smiling sweetly and another with you pouting and pretending to be mad. "Because I got the same thing for you."
"No you didn't." You were caught off guard when he pointed behind you and the shop keeper comes over with the same white bunny plushie but the only difference is a lenticular printing of his face replacing the bunny's face. One showing him sulking while the other showing him smiling.
"No wonder there is the saying that great minds think alike. I guess we are both meant to be, don't you think?" He winked at you before you threw your arms over him, both of your laugh resonated across the empty photo store. Then, you turned and gave him a peck on his lips only for him to pull you back in for a longer kiss.
CALEB
"Someone is back early." The moment you closed the door, you caught sight of your colonel in casual clothes, sprawled lazily on the living room's couch. His eyes trained on you as you walked through the archway that leads you to the living room and you dashed to him, jumping right into his arms. "Hey pipsqueak."
"Caleb, you won't believe what I got today!" You beamed, sitting up next to him and opening up your bag to bring out an apple plushie with your face printed on it's facial features. The photo is the same as what he is witnessing now, with a wide and bright smile, paired with your eye smile. A sight Caleb would gladly give up anything for. Seeing the plushie, Caleb slapped a hand over his mouth to surpress his laughter. You knew that this would tickle his funny bone given how he had been so tired and gloomy for the past few days and you wanted to cheer him up. "I introduce Colonel y/n, ready for takeoff!"
"Pips!" You pulled down the hand that was covering his mouth and torrents of laughters fell out of his mouth. A smile creeping onto your lips when you watched him hugged onto the plushie and bent over, still laughing till he is mildly gasping for air. "This is probably one of the best things I have received after a week of stress."
"I knew that you would fall for it." You nodded your head, hand rubbing soothing circles onto his wide back, feeling his mucles tensed underneath your touch and he sat straight up again, those nebula-like gaze catching yours in an instant. "Is there something on my face?" Your smile faltered for a little and your hand went up to touch your face but he stopped you and using his strength, he pulled you to sit on his lap.
"Thank you, y/n." Looking down at him, you steadied yourself by having your hand pressed onto his chest and he leaned forward, lips catching yours in a passionate but short kiss. After pulling away, he kept his forehead against yours and he whispered. "I shall keep Colonel y/n with me at all times. I promise."
SYLUS
"Sylus...?" You called out as you opened the heavy mahogany doors that leads to his office. Seeing that there is nobody inside, you slowly snuck in, tiptoeing on the carpeted floor to get to his desk. Digging through your bag, you fished out the plushie you had purposely customised for him. It is a Mephisto lookalike but your face plastered on the front of it. And given that Mephisto is a bird, it looked even more ridiculous for your photo to have a beak attached to it.
"What are you doing in my office, kitten?" Sylus' voice got you jumping in your position. His footsteps are always too silenced and this is not the first rodeo he scared you. Seeing you gripping something in your hand so tightly, he strided over in a few steps and came to stand next to you. "What is that in your grip?"
Gulping, you chuckled nervously and held it up to his field of vision. "I...I made this for you. It is a mini Mephisto but with my face on it." The holographic picture of you blended seamlessly with the beak that was attached at the front of the plushie. It almost seemed like you took the picture of you pouting intentionally to fit it onto Mephisto's facial features. "What do you think?"
"I like it." Sylus took the plushie off of your hand and he analysed it, the fabric soft to his touch. The corner of his lip tugged into a small smirk and his carmine eyes caught yours. "It is unusual for me to have such childish trinkets with me but for you, there is always an exception." The way he held the plushie was so gentle that it may give anyone else the wrong idea of the plushie being made of fragile glass.
"Do you think you're going to bring it anywhere you go?" You popped the question, tilting your head as you waited for an answer from him. Sylus slowly prop the plushie onto the wooden desk of his and he wrapped his taut arms around your waist, hoisting you onto the table so he can be at eye level with you.
"Why not? I can't just put my sweetie's hard work to waste." His eyes scanned your rubicund cheeks and down to your lips. Then, he closed in on the distance and kissed you, hand protectively wrapped around your small figure as he pulled you into his embrace.
