paloma Ꮺ

“alfie. this is hell for me.” you groaned, standing in the middle of the hallway, reluctant to go any further.

“what? why? i’ll be there with you.”

“i’m so scared.” you whined, covering your face with your hands, “why are you making me do this? i work out perfectly fine on my own at home.”

“couples bonding, let’s go.” he landed a slap on your ass before pushing you into the gym.

immediately, you wanted to crawl into a ball and die.

there were far too many people that looked like they knew what they were doing, and although you had one of those people to guide you around, you still felt alien.

“alfie.”

“no complaining, over here.” he led you towards a leg extension machine.

he wiped it down for you before letting you get on, living by the rule that you can never trust if the person who used it before is hygienic or not.

“3 sets of 15.”

“i’m going to die.”

“you’re not.” he hummed, taking the peg out of the weights and waving it around before settling on a weight he imagined you could manage.

and you could, until your last set.

“alfie, i can’t.” you panted, sweat glistening on your chest.

“you can.”

you made a whimpering sound as you pushed yourself to do another.

“good girl.” he praised, arms crossed as he watched you struggle with a prideful expression. “you’re doing great, keep going.”

“not helping.” you muttered, closing your eyes.

he chuckled at that, helping you out of the machine as you finished up.

dramatically, you leaned onto him with all your body weight.

he only laughed, picking you up from under your armpits and carrying you to the next station.

he set out a stool and handed you a weighted plate.

“bulgarian split squats, go.”

“do you want me to collapse?”

“no, i want you to workout.”

you shot him a glare before beginning anyway.

for some reason, a guy across the room thought it was appropriate to ogle your backside, so alfie adjusted the way he was standing, guarding you like your own personal security.

as much as he wanted to storm over and start pummelling his face in for even daring to look at his girl like that, he knew that it would get the both of you banned from that gym, and he also needed to be around you while you worked out otherwise you would give up and run away.

“what are you doing?” you asked through harsh pants.

“don’t worry about it. keep going.”

you rolled your eyes and continued.

once you were done, he slapped your ass again with a grin.

after helping you do some workouts on a mat, you were officially knackered, ready for a shower and bed (even though it was only 9PM) so he took the liberty to do his own session while you sat on the floor beside the machine he was working at, sipping from your bottle and filming for him.

“sexy.” you grinned as his biceps bulged in his shirt.

“calm down.” he chuckled shakily, cheeks red from exertion.

“you smacked my ass earlier!”

he shrugged nonchalantly, “had to assert my dominance.”

“on who?” you scoffed.

he grinned, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips, “don’t worry about it, girl.”

you were thankful that there was barely anyone in here, because if there were, you would’ve immediately backed away from his attempt to show affection. but, the only other person in the room was using a machine with their backs to you, so it seemed like you were safe.

“alf, please hurry. i’m sweaty and sticky and want to go home.”

he smirked as an inappropriate thought came to mind, “i’ll show you sweaty and sticky—“

“no! i’m still recording!”

“that’s fine, i’ll post it to my tiktok.”

“you will not.”

eventually, alfie finished up his entire session, allowing you to leave.

“oh thank god!” you nearly cried in relief as he dropped down from the pull up bar. “okay, but can you grunt like that in my ear when we get home?”

You wandered away to try and look busy, but you could still hear their cackling laughter. You weren’t sure when they’d decided you were like their little sister, but the tormenting definitely came with the role. The moment either of them got into a relationship, you were going to have a field day.

The day felt like it was dragging, probably only because you knew you were seeing Alfie at the end of it. Time literally didn’t feel like it was moving at one point. You had to keep yourself busy just so you wouldn’t drive yourself insane. 

When he did finally arrive just before your shift finished at 3, the bell above the door signalled his arrival, but now you were a little preoccupied. He didn’t notice you right away, but he managed to catch Noah’s eye the moment he walked through the door. The older man lit up, subtly kicking Gemma’s foot under the counter to get her attention too.

They both grinned a little too widely at him. 

He had a strong feeling he’d been the topic of conversation at some point today. 

His head tilted in silent question. There was no need for them to pretend they didn’t know the reason he was here.

Noah nodded in your direction, letting Alfie see you talking with a little boy. He couldn’t have been any older than 6, but he was clearly trying to steal your heart. He’d taken a single white Jasmine out of his mum’s bouquet and was holding it in your direction, the brightest grin Alfie thought he’d ever seen on his face. 

Weirdly enough, Alfie was a little jealous. Logically, he knew he shouldn’t be. What reason did he have to be jealous of a small child? But he was finding it hard to ignore that nasty twist of envy in his gut. Followed by the shame that he was jealous of a child in the first place.

He wandered over, but he still hung back a little so he didn’t seem too weird. You were still at work after all. The last thing he wanted was to get you in trouble. Besides, seeing how sweetly you talked to the little boy made him smile. He was pretty adorable, trying to charm you with a flower.

The kid didn’t share the same sentiment as Alfie. He saw him out of the corner of his eye, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “Who’s this?” 

You hadn’t noticed him lingering until that moment. You smiled automatically at the sight of him, very similar to the grin on his own face. “This is Alfie, my boyfriend.” You beckoned him over. 

He felt a bit weird intruding, but your smile only grew when his arm slipped around your waist.

“Boyfriend?” 

You had never seen a 6 year old possess such disgust. It took a lot for you to hold in your laugh, even more so when you made the mistake of glancing at his mum who clearly was thinking the same. “Yeah. He’s very nice, I promise.”

The boy pulled a face, folding his arms over his chest like he was seconds away from throwing a tantrum. “But I’ve been giving you flowers. You’re supposed to like me.”

”Sorry, mate, I got there first.” 

He turned to his mum in disbelief, just as you shot Alfie a look to tell him to shut up.

”Mum, it’s not fair!”

The older woman sighed, trying to think of a way to calm her son down. She straightened his hair out, resting her hand on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. “Kieran, life isn’t fair. I’m sure she appreciates the flowers you give her, and the stories you tell her, but she already likes someone else.” 

You nodded, crouching down to his height with a kind smile on your face. “The flowers you give me make me feel so special, but Alfie makes me feel really special too. And I quite like him.” You could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head. “Plus, if I left him now I think he’d be quite upset. You don’t want to make him upset do you?” 

“Yeah.”

”Kieran!” 

You laughed, standing up again. He would get over it soon enough, he just needed some time to be mad about it first. 

“I think that’s our cue to go. Thank you again.”

”No problem. Bye, Kieran!” you waved, briefly ignoring the possessive hand that found its way to your back as you watched the lovely duo leave. 

The moment they were out of sight, you reached back to swat at Alfie’s chest. “What the hell was that?” you hissed. You never thought you’d see a grown man so jealous of a child. Trust it to be your boyfriend that proved you wrong.

“What?” 

“Arguing with a child, Alfie, really?” 

“He started it,” he defended. Logically he knew it was silly. “Can’t believe I’m competing with a child.” 

You grinned, sliding your arms around his stomach. You didn’t think he was the type to get overly jealous, especially not over a child with a silly crush. “You’re such a baby.” He grumbled a little more until you decided you were fed up listening. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

Now that he could do so happily. He cupped your face with his big hands. “Hi, missed you,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss you.

“Missed you more.” 

Ever the shit stirrers, Gemma and Noah were giggling behind the counter like school kids. Considering they were both massively invested in your relationship, you didn’t know why they were acting so childish. They were the ones that always wanted to hear about him. 

“She has.”

“Hasn’t stopped talking about you all morning.” 

Alfie raised a brow, silently asking if that was true. He was going to be incredibly smug if it was. You swatted his chest, putting some distance between you before he could realise that your face was scorching.

”I’m ready to go, I’ll just grab my bag.” You were a little wary of leaving him alone with the 2 shit stirrers behind the counter, but you’d just have to make sure you were quick. You gave them both a glare as you walked past, hoping to insight some fear into them. Although you didn’t think you’d be too successful. 

It ended up being Alfie who looked like he’d had the fear of god put into him when you came back. They both insisted that they liked him, but that wouldn’t stop them from lecturing him every time he came in. In their defence, they just wanted to make sure that he was treating you right. 

“Ready?”

He nodded rapidly. “Definitely.”

Only when he was back in the safety of his car did he finally feel like he could breathe again. Your colleagues were scary as fuck. 

All day you had been under the impression that you were heading back to Alfie’s. You couldn’t wait to climb under his covers and be wrapped in his big arms. You’d become very familiar with the route from Blossom’s to his house by now, and you knew when he wasn’t going the right way, but he didn’t seem lost. Maybe you’d missed something. 

“Where are we going?” 

He’d already missed the turn that led back to his house. He had a different plan in his head, one he was sure you’d love. The grin on his face was suspicious. He barely glanced at you, probably so he didn’t give too much away. “Surprise.” 

“Alfie.”

He shook his head. “Just let yourself be surprised. I promise you’re gonna love it.” He reached over to intertwine your fingers over his gear stick. It made things a little extra awkward for him, but he was willing to put up with it if it meant he got to touch you. 

There was no arguing with him. His mind was made up. You just sighed, slouching back into the passenger seat with a small pout on your face. 

Unfortunately for you, you had to admit you were very pleasantly surprised when he finally brought the car to a stop. The park you were at was filled with gorgeous, tall, cherry blossom trees. The petals fell to create a beautiful pink trail amongst the usually boring concrete. You couldn’t wait to snap a picture of the sight in front of you when you finally got out of the car. 

The way your face lit up made Alfie’s chest throb. He knew you’d like it here, had immediately thought of you when he was driving past the other day, but he hadn’t expected you to like it this much. He was glad he made the decision. 

“Good surprise?” he asked. 

You beamed. “Amazing surprise.” You leaned over the console, kissing him gently. “Thank you.”

Out of the car you were giddy to get closer. Your phone was already in your hand, camera open and ready to snap the perfect picture. Alfie was struggling to keep up with your speed. 

“Wow,” you muttered.

He stood behind you while you fiddled with the settings on your phone camera, determined to make sure you captured it in all its glory. You couldn’t see, but he was smiling, pretty proud of himself for such a successful outcome. 

You had your memory of this moment, but he wanted to remember it too. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, gently tapping the side of your hip to get your attention. 

You turned to look at him curiously. 

“Go stand over there,” he instructed. 

You frowned. “Why?”

“Just do it.” He rolled his eyes playfully, slipping his phone out of his pocket. 

Only then did you realise what he wanted to do. Your heart jumped a little at the thought of him wanting to take pictures of you. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, but this time felt different for some reason. He seemed genuinely excited to snap a photo with you against a pretty background. He might even make it his lockscreen if he was feeling sappy enough, although it would be hard to replace the current one– a soft launch worthy image of you carrying one of the many bouquets he’d bought for you. Half of your face was obscured, the image mainly taken up by the beautiful flowers, but you both loved the sneakiness of it all.

It was a little awkward at first, just standing there while he pointed his phone at you. You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, or your face. He laughed to himself. He hadn’t thought you’d be so uncomfortable in front of a camera. You really had no reason to be.

“Smile, or something.” 

You sighed, putting on the smile that you got whenever you thought about Alfie. You could have sworn you heard him mutter something like ‘gorgeous’ under his breath. 

By the time Alfie had gotten his fill snapping pictures, he had decided he was definitely going to cherish these. 

You came wandering back over, desperate to see how they turned out. “Let me see.”

He shook his head, sliding his phone back into his pocket where you couldn’t get it. The pout on your face did nothing to convince him. You would see it sooner or later because they were no doubt on their way to becoming his favourite pictures. “Nope. They’re for my eyes only.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

He linked your fingers together again, leading you along the path and under the trees. You looked around in awe. How had you not known that such a beautiful place existed so close to his house this whole time? 

The sight of a little bench under one of the trees excited you. There was a good view of most of the park from there, and you weren’t sure you were ready to leave just yet. “Can we sit? I like it here.” 

He didn’t say a word, just made himself comfy on the bench while you sat beside him. Your legs rested against each other, hands still intertwined in his lap. The space around you was filled with a nice, comfortable silence, which neither of you felt an immediate need to fill. 

It was nice, sitting out in the mild spring heat, people watching together. You felt like an old married couple. 

Alfie couldn’t sit in the silence for too long. If he loved anything, it was talking to you. 

“What are you gonna do after Uni?”

You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder. You hadn’t thought about it much. Before you started Uni you thought you had it all figured out. Go to 6th form, get your a-levels, get your degree and get an amazing job. Then you met Alfie, something you really hadn’t thought would happen, and you fell in love. In a weird way, certainly not a bad one, he’d kind of derailed your plans. Now, as much as you loved your degree, you weren’t sure that you wanted to stick to your plan. Maybe you needed to factor in some living and fun before you grew up too quickly. 

In a way you had him to thank for making you realise that life could be so colourful. Not everything was about money, or work, sometimes all you needed was a hug from your person to feel like you achieved everything you ever wanted. 

“I don’t know. Live a little, I hope. Be with you…” 

Your graduation was still over 2 years away, so you didn’t want to scare him. Who knows where the two of you would be by then. You liked to think your relationship was strong, but you were only officially 4 months in. Plenty could happen from now until your graduation. 

He didn’t seem too spooked by your words, which was a good sign. He hummed, dropping a kiss onto the top of your head. “That sounds nice.” 

“What do you wanna do?” 

Sometimes Alfie stayed awake at night thinking about his future. It felt a little silly to say out loud, but he wanted to make something of himself. He’d grown up watching guys just like him get rich and famous doing the things they enjoyed with their friends on the internet. Was it so out of reach for him to be able to do that too?

“I don’t want to be stuck at the warehouse forever, or just any 9-5,” he huffed. “I want to do something fun, make people laugh.” 

“You make me laugh.” 

“I’d be a pretty shitty boyfriend if I didn’t.” 

You rolled your eyes. You were with him for a lot more than his humour. Even if he wasn’t funny, you were funny enough for the both of you. “You’re already a shitty boyfriend,” you joked. 

“Oi!”

”I’m kidding,” you giggled. You couldn’t actually ask for better. No one saw you nearly as well as Alfie did. “I think you’d be good at that.”

”I just want to have fun. Do something I’m passionate about. It’ll probably be a bit mortifying at first, but when it pays off I think it could be something crazy.” The idea of getting to live some lavish life surrounded by people he looked up to, with you by his side, was the stuff of dreams. But unlike others who only dared to dream, he was determined to make this come true. “What do you think?"

He valued your opinion more than he let on sometimes.

”I think you should do it, and not just because I really want a Coach bag.” He rolled his eyes at your laughter. “I know people would love you, not more than I do, but you’d do really well. What’s the harm in trying it?”

”You’re right.”

”Always am.”

For a moment you delved into a comfortable silence. You were the first and only person he’d honestly told this dream to and he was overjoyed with the reaction he got. He shouldn’t have expected otherwise. 

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. “First thing I wanna do when I get rich is treat you.” He pressed his lips to your temple, noting the way your face was on fire. He didn’t tease you for it though, he actually thought it was sweet. “Gonna take you to Paris,” he whispered.

”Oh, yeah? Gonna shower me in presents all the time as well?” 

“For sure, girl. Just got to make it first.”

You had full faith that he would. Alfie had all the aspects of someone who could entertain millions, and nothing was standing in his way of doing so. If he wanted to become some kind of influencer, you would stand by him every step of the way. 

You rubbed his arm. “I know you will.”

He could tell the sentiment was genuine. If he’d said the same to any of his friends, they would have laughed and filled him with doubt. They could be supportive at times, but this wasn’t something he imagined they would understand. Not until it started paying off at least. But you were all in straight away. You always blindly believed in him.

”I love you.”

Your face split into a grin, throwing your arms around his neck so your lips could meet. “I love you so much, Alfie. Whatever you do, I’m proud of you, babe.”

And you would continue to be for as long as he would have you.

⟡•—— ・₊˚ ❀ ˚₊ ・ ——•⟡

GOING TO THEME parks with Arabella was something you’d always been wary of. The biggest worry was that you would spend so much money on entrance fees, just for her to absolutely hate the first ride and be adamant about not doing any others.

She was in a little mood because you hadn’t allowed her to wear her strappy sandals (which you knew would’ve caused her a million problems while walking all day) and had forced her into a pair of T-bar shoes with little strawberries on the front.

Sharing a knowing look with Alfie, you turned around to look at her.

She had her chin tucked to her chest and her hands were tugging at the hem of her shirt.

“Bella?” You spoke softly.

She whined, shaking her head.

You sighed, “What if we get ice cream while we’re there. Is that better?”

Her head poked up a little, and she nodded meekly, making you smile.

“And you’re gonna go on loads of rides with daddy?”

Another nod.

“Because he's too scared to go on the big rides.”

That earned a little giggle, and you reached out, stroking under her chin, “Head up, baby. You can wear your sandals another day.”

“Okay.” She hummed, finally lifting her head.

When Alfie pulled into the car park, he already began huffing and puffing at slow walkers and large families just being stood in the way. You wanted to laugh, and you would have had Arabella not been in the backseat. You were trying to teach her patience and kindness, so to have her dad cussing out other children and adults felt slightly counter productive.

“Alfie.” You scolded gently while he muttered under his breath.

“Sorry.” He replied, swiftly pulling into a space on the grass nearest to the entrance.

Upon getting out of the car, the pair of you went back and forth on deciding whether or not to bring a pushchair before deciding that it was probably for the best. Worst case scenario was that you ended up just lugging it around so you didn’t have to carry a backpack around all day, and you could just use the pushchair for storage instead.

It was absolutely beating it down with heat, and Arabella was extremely upset when Alfie began lathering her arms, legs and face in suncream.

“No!” She whined, trying to fight back against her dads hands.

You rolled your eyes, crouching behind her and wrapping your arms around her waist to hold her in place.

Her face scrunched up unhappily as his palms ran over it, rubbing the cream into her skin.

“Daddy, stop!” She exclaimed.

“No, you stop.” You said to her, “Stop causing a scene, just put it on. It’s to protect you.”

She just huffed, slumping back as he began rubbing it into her legs.

“There.” He grunted as he stood.

You were on pushchair duty since you knew the likelihood of her clinging to you when she got mardy was slim to none. She had a thing about using Alfie as a climbing frame when she was overly tired, which made no sense at all because she was only exerting more energy by doing so.

“Ice cream now, mummy?” She asked, looking up at you with her hand encompassed by Alfie’s.

“No, not now, baby. After lunch, okay?”

“After lunch.” She nodded.

Once you were in the park and surrounded by loud noises and bright colours, Arabella was bouncing on the balls of her feet, the urge to run around and go off on her own strong and compelling. Alfie wouldn’t let her, of course. His grip on her hand was tight but not crushing.

There was a mascot standing at the entrance of the children’s area, waving enthusiastically at all of the kids.

You couldn’t imagine being in a hot suit like that in this weather. You were in a pair of shorts and a tank top, but you were already sweating.

“You want a picture, Bells?” Alfie asked, and she nodded.

You pulled out your phone as she waltzed up to the mascot, having a brief exchange of words before turning to you.

“Smile!” You grinned, hoping she would replicate as you snapped the photo.

The both of you thanked the man behind the mascot before walking into the children’s area. It was a combination of themes, ranging from children’s books to tv shows and movies.

“What do you want to do first, Bells?” Alfie asked, nudging her hand.

She raised a finger, pointing to a big statue of Peppa Pig that signalled where the rides based on her theme were.

“Okay, Peppa it is.”

Thankfully, the queues weren’t too long.

Obviously one of you had to go on with her, and since Alfie had adamantly decided that he wasn’t going to be joining you on any of the big rides, he was currently squashed into a tiny cart, his long arm slung over the back of it so that he would actually fit, and going around a track at an extremely slow pace, but just fast enough that it would be thrilling for anyone under the age of eight.

You laughed as you filmed them going around. Alfie looked less than pleased, as he knew there was someone there that knew him, and if there wasn’t, you posting the video would get a million clips and reposts that would just destroy his internet image.

But he figured it was worth it if his daughter was happy, and she was.

She was beaming, big and bright, and obliged with her dad when he encouraged her to put her hands up on the tiniest drop.

Arabella giggled loudly, absolutely elated as the ride came to an end and she could hop off to find her way back to you.

“Mummy! Mummy!” She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet, “That was so fun!”

“Yeah? You and daddy looked like you were having lots of fun.” It was said in teasing jest as you smirked at your boyfriend.

He only scowled and nudged your side, “That video goes nowhere.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shrugged innocently.

“Reader.”

“Love you!” You grinned, kissing his lips before looking to your daughter, “Where next, baby?”

After a few more waiting queues and rides, you decided on going somewhere for lunch.

There was a little chicken restaurant just outside of the children’s area, so you sat down in the outside seating with Arabella while Alfie ordered the food.

“Can you have some water please?” You requested, holding out the bottle to her.

She nodded, taking it in her hands and tilting her head back.

When Alfie returned with food, you were all at the stage of being ravenous, but you had to warn Arabella not to eat too fast.

Alfie broke up her chicken nuggets into little bitesize pieces, feeding them to her periodically while snacking on his own.

There was a big box of curly fries between the three of you.

“AB.” He hummed to get her attention after she’d zoned out.

Instead of blinking back into reality, she just opened her mouth, letting her dad feed her.

You frowned worriedly at that, “Bella, you okay?”

She simply nodded.

You brought the back of your hand to her cheeks, feeling around her face and neck to discover that she was entirely too warm.

“She hot?” Alfie asked, and you nodded.

Taking the water bottle back, you poured some of the cold liquid into your hands, cupping them to make a good puddle before dropping it gently over her dark brown curls.

You ran your palms over her head, making sure the water was lathering in properly.

He took the initiative to retrieve the fan from your bag and began fanning her face.

She whined slightly at the feeling, trying to back away, but you kept her in place by pouring more water over her in short amounts.

Eventually, the redness in her face toned down and she became a bit more lively.

“You feel okay, chick?” You asked again, just to reassure yourself that she was okay.

Again, she nodded, “Water please, mummy.”

You chuckled, “Alright.” and handed it to her.

She took gentle sips and resumed eating, finishing your meal just before it hit 2.

After lunch, you took a walk away from the children’s area and towards all the big rides.

By this point, Arabella had climbed up Alfie’s chest and wrapped her arms around his neck, latching onto him. That was an immediate sign of exhaustion to you. Taking advantage of her lack of enthusiasm to go on any more rides, you decided to take the afternoon for yourself, queuing in line for the more extreme attractions.

On one of them, the line wound back round to the entrance, so you were able to talk to Alfie over the fence before waiting for your turn.

“You’re actually nuts, girl.” He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re just a pussy.” You retorted playfully.

Once you were loaded onto the ride and strapped in, Alfie nudged at Arabella.

“Look, can you see mummy?” He cooed, pointing to you.

She untucked herself from his neck and looked, nodding slowly.

“How mental is she for doing this?”

“A lot.”

“Yeah,” He chuckled, “A lot mental.”

When you came off the ride, your hair was an absolute mess, and you should’ve tied it up before going on, but you hadn’t, and now your parting was wonky and your strands were all tangled.

“Fuckin’ell!” You laughed, flipping your hair back so that it fell into place.

Alfie laughed at the state of you, wheeling the pushchair round to meet you.

“Mummy.” Arabella giggled at you.

“That was quite nice actually.”

“Nice?!” Alfie exclaimed.

“Yeah, good bit of breeze to cool me down.”

“You’re fuckin’ mental.” He scoffed.

“Naughty word, daddy!” Arabella exclaimed.

He closed his eyes and groaned before pulling out his phone and adding another line to the notes app.

They had come up with a system where every time he says a swear word in front of her, he owes her a pound. She can either save them all up and get a toy, or spend it immediately. Miraculously (because neither of you were very good role models when it came to sensibly saving money) she chose to save them all up.

You estimated that she’d managed to scrape around about £30 from her dad by now.

Before getting in line for your second ride, you lathered some more suncream onto Arabella’s skin and then left them both with a kiss on the nose and lips respectively.

Since you were in the queue by yourself, you ended up talking to a stranger just about your day and how things had been.

He was relatively friendly, never prying too much and remaining respectful, and by coincidence, you ended up seated next to each other on the ride.

The words you both screamed out of fear and a rush of adrenaline seemed to compliment and coincide with each other.

Afterwards, you walked up to Alfie with a large grin on your face.

“That was great!” You laughed heartily, peering down at Arabella in her pushchair, “Is she sleeping?”

“Mhm.” Alfie hummed, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders and tugging you in close.

You let out a startled noise at the action, frowning in confusion as he pressed a firm kiss to the side of your head while glaring out across the park.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, trying to find where he was looking.

“That guy.”

“Who?”

“The one you were sitting with.”

“… I’m confused.”

“He was flirting with you.”

You scoffed before exclaiming, “Alfie!”

“What?!”

“He wasn’t flirting with me, he was just talking.” You rolled your eyes.

“I know what men flirting looks like, darlin’, and he was flirting.” Alfie was adamant.

“Okay, fine, he was. I agree with you. Happy now?” You huffed.

You didn’t actually agree, but if saying you did would get Alfie to stop working himself up for no reason, then you would.

He pressed another kiss to your temple before letting you go from under his arm.

Your knees clicked as you crouched in front of Arabella, tickling under her chin to slowly wake her up without startling her.

A little, dramatic huff came from her as she wriggled around in her seat.

“Bella.” You cooed, “Should we go and get ice cream?”

With her eyes still closed, obviously trying to hide under the guise that she was ‘asleep’, she nodded.

Alfie bought the three of you ice cream, with yours having sherbet on top, while his and Arabella’s were plain.

He was feeding her ice cream with a little plastic spoon while you held a napkin in your hand at the ready for when she inevitably got it all over her mouth. As she ate, Arabella made pleased humming noises, causing you both to chuckle.

It was something that you’d picked up on her doing when she was particularly enjoying a meal, and you found it rather endearing.

You and Alfie shared a couple quick, chaste kisses over the table before cleaning everything up.

“Any more rides you want to go on?” Alfie asked her.

She nodded, “Peppa again.”

“Okay, Peppa one more time then.” He agreed.

This time, Arabella demanded that you ride with her.

She’d been on it once with her dad, and now it was your turn. The seat was burning hot against the skin of the back of your thighs, making you yelp and stand suddenly.

Arabella cackled in amusement at your reaction, and as you slowly lowered yourself back down, you began tickling her sides.

“No, mummy!” She screamed, “No, too hot!”

“What’s too hot?” You asked, stopping and smoothing a hand over her back.

“Air.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You kissed the top of your head.

“Arms up.” The ride operator walked by, checking the bar was down properly.

Before it took off, you pointed to where Alfie was standing with his phone out and posed for a photo.

Whilst you were doing your round of the rollercoaster, a couple of fans had come up to Alfie asking for some pictures, which he took and spoke to them briefly before reuniting with you at the ride exit.

“Was so fun!” Arabella giggled elatedly, wrapping her tiny hand into the fabric of her dads grey shorts.

“Yeah? I’m glad you had fun, Bells.” He smiled, placing a hand on the back of her head, “We’ve gotta go home now, though. Okay?”

“No.” She gasped, her bottom lip starting to wobble, “No, more ride.”

“We can’t.” Alfie sighed, reaching her height to talk to her on a level, “The park closes soon. We have to go.”

“Wanna stay.”

“I know you do, baby.” He clicked his tongue, “We can come back another day, okay?”

The moment she broke down into tears, she hid her face in her dads neck, clutching his shirt for dear life.

“Oh, Bells.” He huffed, picking her up into his arms and holding her tightly.

“Bella.” You pouted, rubbing her back.

“Mummy.” She cried, “Wanna stay.”

“I know, chick.” You brought your hand to her cheek, wiping away the tears as they fell, “But like daddy said, we can come back another time, yeah?”

Alfie was sweating as she continued to wail into his skin while you walked out of the park. You felt a little bad for him because it was obvious that the body heat coming from her crying her eyes out was getting to him, on top of the sun that was shining down on the back of his neck, turning it a shade of light red.

“Should I take her?” You offered.

Alfie shook his head, “Nah, you’re alright, girl.”

“Alf, you’re sweating through your shirt.” You glanced down at the sweat patches in the underarms of his shirt.

Had this been a first date, you probably would’ve been a little grossed out, but it wasn’t, and Alfie had seen you at utter rock bottom, as you had with him too.

“Wanna suck it clean?”

“Alfie!” You exclaimed, slapping his bicep.

He cackled smugly, proud of himself for his quick, suggestive retort.

“So … is that a no?”

“I can’t believe you asked me that in front of our daughter.” You threw him a dirty look, marching forwards faster than him so you were in front.

It was funny because that exertion caused you to hunch over the pushchair that was in front of you and heave heavy breaths.

Alfie laughed before landing a smack to your ass.

“Don’t!” You scoffed at his audacity.

“Daddy, no mean.” Arabella muttered, taking her wrist and wiping at her cheeks.

“I’m not being mean!” He gasped dramatically.

“Shh.” She hushed him, putting her hand to his lips.

You threw your head back with hearty, contagious cackles.

“Oh, you can get right in the car, little missy.” He hooked his hands under her armpits and held her out as far as he could like she smelt bad.

Arabella writhed in her arms, giggling loudly, as her dad strapped her into the backseat.

He closed the door and rounded to the boot, helping you pack up the pushchair and load it in before slamming it shut.

“Successful day?” He wound his arms around your waist, letting his large paws rest on your bum.

ALFIE NEVER THOUGHT you would’ve been a topic of discussion on the podcast. You were a secret that he didn’t want to risk outing, so he made sure to skate around the conversations of partners and dates.

It wasn’t even like you were dating, but you were something. Whether that was because you were the mother of his child or for an entirely different reason was up to you and him to decide, but it wasn’t up for public scrutiny or debate.

You made your own content, majorly around being a young mum and the support that was around for you at the time, things you found that helped and anymore big sister advice that people requested on, so you having a child wasn’t the secret, it was more so the fact that he was a dad — more importantly, the dad.

Chip and Cal knew, of course, but that was still something he felt unsure of.

They didn’t find out voluntarily. They’d come over unannounced once and seen a couple baby toys strewn about his floor since he’d had the weekend with the little one.

He made them swear they wouldn’t tell anyone, not Stan, not any of the other YouTube lot. Not even their fiancées.

The secrecy of him being a father and you being the mother was for a reason. For your own safety. He didn’t want any of his fans harassing you or your kid just purely based on the fact you had some relations to him that didn’t suit their narrative.

So when Max Khadar began speaking about you, Alfie couldn’t help but get a little bit protective.

“Nah, that girl … What's her name … ohhh what is it.” Max muttered, “The one with the kid …”

“There’s a lot of girls that have kids.” Chip laughed.

“Reader! Reader!” Max exclaimed as your name finally came to him.

“Oh, her, right.” Cal nodded, giving Alfie a quick side glance to try and get the gist of how the younger man was feeling.

He seemed to have zoned in on Max’s face, paying an intense amount of detail to every little expression the guest made.

“What about her?”

Max gaped as he looked at Cal, a smirk on his face, “Are you joking? Bro, she’s leng.”

The boys across from him began laughing hysterically at the tone in which Max had expressed his physical admiration for you. Alfie wasn’t as amused, but he gave a short chuckle to not look too out of place.

“You fancy her?” Cal pushed.

“Fancy? Bro, I wanna take her out. You know, nice dinner, then go back to hers— ahhh man, she’s so bad. So bad.”

“Why are you fantasising about her right now?” Chip guffawed, crossing one leg over the other.

“This is nothing.” Max waved his hands about dramatically, “Trust, I wanna give her another kid.”

“Alright, bro, chill.” Alfie laughed it off, trying to act like he was preventing his friend from getting into trouble rather than trying to shut him up before he said something that really made his blood boil.

“There’s nothing chill about her.” Max shook his head, “She is … ‘coz there’s levels to it. You’ve got fit,” He put his hand down before putting his other one way higher in the air, “And you’ve got leng. Reader is up here. Genuinely, I-I-I-“

Alfie began mimicking his stutter, slyly taking the piss out of him. Cal and Chip cackled.

“I would have bare kids with her. A whole football team. Trust, I’m on that.”

“You’re on that?” Cal challenged, “What, have you DM’d her?”

Max just shrugged.

“Have you actually?” Alfie asked, though his tone reeked of a serious energy.

So much for being low-key.

Alfie kind of hoped that you would’ve told him if someone from an adjacent circle had DM’d you in a romantic or sexual manner, but he could also recognise that just because you had a child together, didn’t mean that he had any claim over you.

Not unless he did something about that, of course.

“Why you pressed? Chill.” Max put a hand out in his direction, “Nah, I haven’t, but I will.”

“Swear she’s got a fella.” Alfie hummed, sitting back and playing with the wiring of his mic.

“Say wallahi.” His face fell dramatically.

“I dunno.” He shrugged, “I swore she made a video saying, like, ‘get ready with me for a date’.”

Yes, Alfie had most of your videos memorised, and yes that video was when you went around to his for dinner.

“Yeah … you’re on that.” Max gave him a knowing smile, “That was you, bro. She went on that date with you.”

“What?” Alfie laughed, pinching his nose bridge, “No she didn’t.”

“You’re the dad too, I know it.”

“Shut the fuck up, bro.”

Alfie was getting slightly annoyed.

It was one thing to assume you were dating, but to say he was the dad (joking, or not) was pushing it. He knew if one person theorised it, then another would, and another and another until it became a rumour that either of you would have to address.

When that episode dropped and all the clipping accounts got to work, it was a nightmare.

Having you send him one of the clips on Instagram and nothing else was enough to send his heart rate through the roof.

alfiebuttle: just ignore it x

yourusername: oh yeah i’ll just ignore people talking about wanting to shag me and talking about you being matilda’s dad

yourusername: thanks for standing up for me btw really liked that you let him say he wants to impregnate me

alfiebuttle: i didn’t know what to say without it being obvious x

alfiebuttle: are you actually mad? x

Alfie watched the text bubble appear, waver for a little while before disappearing completely. He sighed before typing another message.

alfiebuttle: i’m sorry x

yourusername: whatever, just do your damage control

He sent a quick red heart before going through the main clipping accounts and dropping a few nonchalant comments along the lines of ‘you guys are so dramatic😹’ or ‘chill i was just guessing’.

He didn't think it’d do much, but he felt that remaining completely silent was more guilty.

After he was done reposting and commenting, he dropped you another message

alfiebuttle: everything okay tonight? x

alfiebuttle: how is she x

yourusername: she’s ok, proper tired today x

When he received a picture of his two-year-old daughter sat on the floor, beaming up at the camera, his heart melted and a grin overtook his face without him being able to control it.

alfiebuttle: ❤️❤️❤️

alfiebuttle: did you take her out? x

yourusername: yeah, went park for a little bit ‘coz she kept fussing x

alfiebuttle: cute, lmk when u go next. i’ll come x

yourusername: what if someone sees x

alfiebuttle: shit yeah 🫤

yourusername: its alright u can come round for tea tomorrow, she’s been missing you x

For two days, you sit on this secret, letting it simmer. You watch Alfie go about his business, the serious set of his jaw as he weighs out white powder on his digital scales, the methodical way he folds the standard tiny zip lock bags. He's so focused, so professional in his own unique way. You almost feel bad about what you're going to suggest. Almost.

On the third day, you can't contain it any longer. He's sitting on the plush black rug of his living room, a mountain of cash spread out on the glass coffee table before him. He's counting it, his thick fingers deftly sorting the notes into piles, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looks so handsome like this, the lamplight catching the defined muscles of his arms as he works, his curly brown hair a soft mess on his head. This is the moment.

You bounce off the sofa, landing on your knees beside him with an exaggerated stop. "Alfie," you announce, your voice dripping with what you seemed to think was importance. "Stop what you're doing. I have a business idea."

He doesn't even look up, just continues counting a stack of twenties. "Yeah, girl? What's going on in that pretty head of yours now? You want to start breeding dogs or cats or bunnies or summat?"

"Better," you say, and with a dramatic ta da, you upend the five packs of pink bags onto his coffee table.

They cascade across the surface, pink sheer fabric, scattering over his carefully organised piles of money and his little plastic bags of product. He finally stops counting, his green eyes slowly lifting from the cash to the pink fabric, and then to your beaming face. For a solid ten seconds, he just stares, his expression completely unreadable. You can practically hear the cogs turning in his head.

"Alfie?" you prompt, nudging his arm. "Say something."

He picks up one of the bags, holding it between his thumb and forefinger as if it's a particularly interesting piece of evidence. He examines it, turns it over, and then looks at you, a deep, weary sigh escaping his lips. He runs a hand over his face, scratching at the slight stubble on his jaw. "Darlin’... what the fuck is this?"

"It's cute, Alfie!" you explain, grabbing another bag and holding it up to the light. “Oh Alfie, please! Your work is always so mean and boring and colourless."

He stares at you, then back at the pink bag in his hand. "Yeah, boring and colourless is what it’s meant to be, it has no place for a sweetheart like you, hm? Besides, this looks like it should have them little chocolate hearts innit."

"Exactly! It's unexpected!" you insist, already opening one of the bags and peering inside. "We could even get little custom stickers made to give them when they get an order over 50 pound, they have it on etsy y'know."

He lets out a short, sharp laugh, despite himself. "You are actually fucken mental, you know that? Absolutely lost the plot."

"But you love it," you counter, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes, the one you know he can never resist.

He looks at you, really looks at you, and his resolve crumbles. He sees the genuine excitement in your eyes, the way you're already planning the little bows you'll tie in the drawstrings. He knows, he's always known, that he can't say no to you. Not when you look at him like that.

"Alright," he concedes, his voice low and fond. "Yeah, alright. We'll try it. But if any of my customers take the piss out of me for this, I'm blamin' you, angel."

"You won't regret it!" you promise, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek, leaving a faint smear of lip gloss.

"I already do," he mutters, but he's smiling as he says it, pulling you in for a proper kiss.

That evening it became a production line. Alfie weighs out the product with his usual precision, his expression serious and focused. You sit beside him, your own task equally important. You carefully fill each pink bag with the exact amount he's measured out, then tie the delicate satin drawstrings into perfect, fluffy bows. You're completely absorbed in your work, humming to yourself while Alfie watches you, a constant, amused smile playing on his lips. He finds it utterly ridiculous, but also utterly endearing.

"You're enjoyin' this way too much," he says, leaning over to kiss your nose. You'd been experimenting with a new foundation earlier, and he leaves a faint smudge.

"It's the little things," you reply dreamily, holding up a perfectly packaged bag to admire it. "They’ll love it."

The next afternoon finds you cruising through the city in Alfie's black BMW. Alfie normally never lets you come on these drive by’s. He thinks it’s too dangerous for you, but after you pleaded to see how your new packaging would do, he couldn’t possibly say no.

You're heading to a dodgy car park, a place of cracked concrete and flickering security lights. As Alfie pulls into his usual spot, a tall, skinny guy with a face that looks like he’s been using for years and a baggy-fitting tracksuit walks towards the car. He knocks on the driver's side window with too much force.

Alfie lowers the window, his expression already hardening. "What's up, mate?"

The guy leans in, his eyes immediately falling on the small pink bag Alfie is holding out to him. He recoils slightly, his face twisting in confusion and disgust. "The fuck is this?" he sneers, poking the bag with a dirty finger. "Did you start sellin' fairy dust or somethin'? Is this a joke?"

You tense in the passenger seat, your hands clenching in your lap. This wasn't the reaction you'd hoped for. You were left with a sad little pout on your face. 

Alfie's jaw tightens, a muscle feathering in his cheek. His green eyes, usually so warm when they look at you, turn to stone. "Look, I know it's fucken stupid but shut the fuck up mate, yeah? Just take what you came for," he mutters so you don't hear.

The guy snatches the bag, holding it up between two fingers as if it's contaminated. "Nah, man, this is embarrassin'. What am I supposed to do with this? Give it to me fucken Nan as a present? That’ll get her out the grave."

That's it. Alfie's patience, which was a short fuse to begin with, evaporates completely. He leans forward, his voice dropping to a dangerously low growl that makes the hair on your arms stand up. "Mate, say another word and I'll fucken batter you. Right here. And the price goes up by fifty percent"

The customer's hard act vanishes instantly. He pales, his eyes darting from Alfie's furious face to the pink bag in his hand. He shoves a crumpled wad of cash at Alfie, grabs the bag, and practically flees back to his grimy flat, not daring another word.

As Alfie peels out of the car park, the tyres screeching slightly on the tarmac, you turn to him, your earlier excitement now deflated. "He didn't like it," you say quietly, staring out the window.

"Who cares what some wanker thinks?" Alfie says, his anger already subsiding as he reaches over to squeeze your thigh. His touch is instantly reassuring. "They all love it, baby. Trust me. He's just got no taste."

Later that evening, the real test arrives. A serious customer, a proper businessman in a sharp suit who Alfie has been courting for a larger, more regular order. They're sitting in the living room, the air thick with tension and negotiation. Alfie is in full ‘dealer’ mode, his posture straight, his voice clipped and professional as he discusses distribution networks and supply chains.

You've been in the kitchen, feeling a bit useless and anxious about the deal. To distract yourself, you've baked. A lot. Now, armed with a tray of perfectly frosted vanilla cupcakes

Now, armed with a tray of perfectly frosted vanilla cupcakes, you decide to make an appearance. You've put on your frilliest pink apron over a simple summer dress, a vision of domestic bliss that is about to collide violently with the criminal exchange happening in your living room. You push open the living room door with your hip, a bright smile plastered on your face, and pad softly into the room.

"Does anyone want a cupcake?" you ask cheerfully, your voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife. "I made vanilla with buttercream frosting. There's a few with sprinkles too."

The serious customer, a man named Marcus who looks like he spends his weekends checking stocks and cheating on his wife, stops mid sentence. His eyes, wide with disbelief, travel from the tray of cupcakes to your face, then down to the frilly pink apron, and finally to the golden retriever that has miraculously appeared at your side. (You'd found her, Daisy, abandoned in a park last month, and Alfie, despite all his protests about not being a "dog person," had let her stay. Now, the dog was your constant, fluffy shadow.)

Alfie closes his eyes for a long moment, a silent prayer for patience or possibly a swift end to his suffering. But then he opens them, and they land on you. He sees the dusting of flour on the tip of your nose, the genuine, hopeful look in your eyes, the way your hand is resting on Daisy's head, stroking her soft golden fur. The hard lines of his face soften instantly, the performance melting away into the man who can't say no to you.

"That's... great, angel. Thanks so much," he says, his voice a strange mix of affection and strained warning. He shoots a quick, sharp glance at Marcus, a clear message to play along.

Marcus, looking utterly bewildered, slowly reaches out and takes a cupcake with sprinkles. "Right," he says, his voice barely a whisper. "About that quarterly order..."

You beam, completely oblivious to the high stakes negotiation you've just derailed. You set the tray down on the coffee table, right next to a scattered pile of hundred pound notes and a small, pink, bow-tied bag of your new product. Daisy sits politely at your feet, her tail thumping a happy rhythm against the plush rug.

"They're really good, aren't they?" you say to Marcus, as if you're all old friends having a chat. "I use real vanilla extract. None of that cheap stuff."

Marcus takes a tentative bite of the cupcake, his eyes still fixed on you as if you're someone who belongs in a psych ward. "It's... it's lovely," he manages, his voice strained.

Alfie watches the whole interaction, a complex mix of exasperation and pure adoration warring on his face. He hates this interruption, hates the unprofessionalism of it all, but he loves you. He loves the flour on your nose, the ridiculous pink apron, the way you've managed to completely disarm one of the most intimidating men in his contact list with nothing more than a baked good and a friendly smile.

After Marcus finally leaves, having agreed to the order while still looking slightly dazed and clutching a half eaten cupcake, Alfie collapses back onto the sofa with a groan. He pulls you down with him, tucking you into his side, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders.

"You are a fucken menace," he murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. "A complete menace to my business."

You snuggle closer, tracing the defined lines of his arm with your finger. "But he liked the cupcake, didn't he?"

Alfie lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Course he did, baby. So he should, anything that comes from you is perfect."

You pout with a little frown, “Are you just trying to make me feel better?” 

He laughs again, a real, deep laugh this time. He tilts your chin up, his green eyes looking directly into yours, filled with a warmth that makes your heart flutter. "They all love it, baby. Every last one of 'em. Even the ones that are too scared to admit it."

"You're just saying that," you say, but you're smiling.

"Nah, I'm not," he insists, his thumb stroking your cheek. "My life was borin’ and colourless before I met you. You make it all worth it."

He leans in and kisses you, a slow, deep kiss that tastes of vanilla buttercream and something else, something Alfie. It's a kiss that says everything he can't put into words, a kiss that promises he'll always defend your ridiculous ideas, always protect you from the harsh realities of his world, and always, always say yes.

When he pulls away, you're both breathless. "So," you say, your voice a little shaky. "Business idea part two... glitter in coke? edible of course"

He groans, but he's smiling. "Fucken hell, girl. What am I gonna do with you?"

YOU STILL HADN’T recovered from the humiliation ritual that was your rebellious, drunken escapade, and you’d done everything your power to avoid Alfie. So far, it was going brilliantly.

He’d seemed to catch onto the fact that you didn’t want to be around him much, and he hadn’t pushed back — unlike the first time you embarrassed yourself around him at the creek.

Besides, this was a lot deeper than that.

What had occurred at the creek was a freak accident that neither of you had control over, however what had happened in his car two weeks ago was something you should have prohibited.

If you had never decided to be so petty and drink as a stroke of rebellion, you would’ve never ended up in his car with his lips on yours.

Those were the consequences of behaving recklessly and trailing away from your religious path, and you pledged with God as a whispering breath one night to never do it again.

You’d spent the morning plucking berries from the nearby bushes, a mixture of strawberries and blackberries, before returning them to your mother’s kitchen so that she could utilise them in a bake at some point.

The weather was rumoured to take a turn for the worst next week according to the news channels, and so you were making the most of the blinding sunlight by sitting in the fields amongst blades of grass, wildflowers and colourfully winged critters.

Your leather-back journal was perched on your lap, pen to paper as you scrawled down mindlessly about how your day had been and the warm heat that you so wished would stay around for longer.

There was a lamb curled up beside your leg, its head rested on your knee.

Its eyelashes would flutter occasionally, like she was either blinking in approval of your scrawled out words, or trying to fight off sleep to bask in your company for a little while longer.

Whatever it was, you felt endeared.

For some reason, you let your mind wander off to the depths of the boy that occupied the farm with you.

He hadn’t done much today, meaning you hadn’t seen much of him. Realistically, you knew that you should’ve been pleased by the fact, but your mood was dampened a little knowing that you hadn’t woken up to the sight of him glistening in sweat outside your bedroom window in a fortnight.

It was then that the golden cross resting between your collarbones began burning particularly hotter than normal, but maybe that was just the sun hitting it in a harsher way.

Not only did the stinging sterling silver snap you out of your daydream, but the panicked bleating of another lamb headed your way did too.

When you looked up, a cloud of four legs was trotting towards you, mouth parted as its voice echoed through your ears, loud and frightened.

“What’s wrong?” You cooed at the lamb, folding your book up.

It only bleated again before rushing back to where it had come from.

You let your eyes track it, and when you saw the issue at hand, you gasped and immediately moved.

Cautious of the lamb resting on you, you moved it carefully before rushing over.

There it was, the mother to this lily-livered lamb had its head stuck between barbed wire. The ewe was screeching loudly, its head thrashing wildly and legs bucking in an attempt to escape.

“No, don’t do that.” You said, scared that it was going to tear its skin.

You tried to near it, but it thrashed and you flinched back.

A defeated whine came from your lips, because you really wanted to save her but you didn’t know what to do.

“I need you to calm down.” You tried speaking to the sheep, but it obviously didn’t understand you, and it wouldn’t ever.

A sudden stroke of confidence hit you, and you reached forward, wrapping your hand around the smooth length of wire just before a barb and pulled it up, trying to give the sheep enough room to rear its head back.

It didn’t.

For some reason, it only panicked more at the movement of the wire, and rammed its head to the side, one of her horns smacking into the bone of your wrist harshly.

You let out a cry of pain, retrieving your arm back to your body and clutching the injured area. Your thumb rubbed over the reddened skin, trying to soothe it as if it would prevent the bruise that would inevitably show up later today or tomorrow.

You wanted to call for your dad, but he was out on a church meeting with the locals, getting to know everyone and the detail principles that they taught at the local church, and your mum was baking, so there was no way that she wanted to be bothered right now.

The only other option was Alfie or his dad, but you had no idea if either of them were home.

Deciding to risk it, you jogged through the field towards his house, ignoring the way you broke out into an uncomfortable sweat.

Your boots thudded on the dark oak flooring his porch and you politely knocked on the door, trying to hold back the urge to begin frantically banging on it.

There was no response for a while, and just as you were about to give up and turn the knob to let yourself in, Alfie swung the front door open, red in the face and in nothing but a pair of dirt-stained jeans.

His abs were a sight to behold, tanned and hard, and you didn’t know if they were there on purpose or just as a result of consistent manual labour, but you weren’t about to ask. His body was none of your business, as enticing as it was.

“Reader? What’s wrong?” He frowned at the sight of your distraught expression.

“There’s a sheep with her head stuck in the fence!” You exclaimed, blubbering while holding back tears, “And I tried to help her but I can’t!”

“Okay, okay.” Alfie sighed, “I’ll come, give me a second.”

He disappeared back inside, leaving his door open, allowing you to pick up on a brief conversation. At first you’d assumed he was talking to his dad, but then the response came from a feminine voice, and you felt your heart drop a little.

Just two weeks ago his lips were on yours in his truck, and now he was, what? Having a sexual liaison with another woman?

Even though you were full to the top with rue when thinking back on the situation (and spent the entire day afterwards praying to God for forgiveness) it still hurt a little part of you to know that he could move on easy as pie without so much of a clarifying conversation with you.

When he reappeared, he had covered his torso with a plain white shirt.

You watched him with skeptical eyes, feeling a lot of regret about even approaching him for help.

He swiped up some padded leather gloves that were strategically resting over the white fencing of his porch and rushed off.

Whether he was expecting you to follow or not you didn’t know, but you did so anyway, trailing behind in a little rushed walk, not exactly wanting to catch sight of the girl that was wrapped up in his bedsheets.

Watching him act so urgently, like this was all a second nature to him, made your stomach twist in a way that you’d never felt before. It was slightly uncomfortable, but you also thought that maybe you could get used to it.

“Alright, girl, easy.” Alfie muttered to the panicked sheep.

It bleated desperately at him.

“I know, I know, I’m here.” He crouched down, reaching up and back to remove his shirt.

A flush of heat rose over your neck and gathered in your cheeks. But it wasn’t just warmth. There was a tingling behind it, like pins and needles, that made you want to scratch at your skin and will it away. You also could’ve sworn that your heart nearly leapt out of your chest at the sight of his back muscles wavering and flexing, but you really didn’t want to focus on those types of thoughts.

They were sinful, and you’d done enough repenting for a lifetime, sitting on your knees until they went red and your ankles were sore from being in the same position too long.

As much as you loved sharing conversations with your Holy Father, you didn’t want to be in that uncomfortable position again where tears were burning behind your eyes from the pain, but you couldn’t relent until your spirit felt fulfilled.

Alfie had laid his shirt over the eyes of the ewe, and for some reason, it immediately relaxed.

“There you go, atta girl.” He mumbled, resting a hand on her back, rubbing firmly but slowly, “Just relax.”

The baby was still prancing around on wobbly legs, creating a whole lot of noise.

You decided to lower yourself into the grass again, sitting cross-legged and beckoning the lamb into your lap. It screamed right down your ear, making you wince and caress its head in an attempt to soothe it.

“I know, but Alfie’s helping your mummy, and then it’ll be okay.”

He smiled over his shoulder at you before returning to the issue at hand, working on lifting the wires apart and easing the sheep’s head out. He didn’t push or pull, he just guided, keeping one hand steady on her chin, and another straining to hold the thick wire up.

Eventually, her head was unstuck and she shook his shirt from her head, letting out a bleat of appreciation.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.” Alfie chuckled.

Her baby fled from your lap, sprinting around the fence and joining her with a happy leap.

You smiled at the sight, your shoulders jolting with light laughter.

“You good?” He suddenly asked you.

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” You nodded, feeling yourself grow shy under his gaze and attention.

“You hurt yourself?”

He’d noticed the way you were clutching your wrist when he answered the door, but hadn’t said anything at the time due to his need to satiate your emotional troubles.

“O-Oh, she hit me with her horns on accident. It’s okay.” You shook your head, standing and brushing your backside off of any grass.

He appeared skeptical, looking at you with uncertain eyebrows, “That could bruise, y’know?”

“I-I know.”

“Come,” He nodded his head in the direction of his house, “I’ll get you something for it.”

If you didn’t trust yourself around him when you first met him, you most certainly didn’t anymore, let alone if you were in his house.

“No, that’s okay. You have someone over, I don’t wanna disturb—“

Alfie shook his head, “She’ll have left while we were here. It’s fine.”

You pursed your lips, fighting a mental war to just go back to the part of the field you were sitting in before the fiasco.

“Alfie, I don’t think we—“

“If you’re still panicking over the kiss, you really don’t have to.”

You shut up immediately, shrinking back into yourself at the mention of the most humiliating night of your life.

“I haven’t told anybody, I haven’t … pushed you about it. It doesn’t bother me.”

It did bother him, but not in an aggravating way.

Rather the opposite.

His entire body heated up at the thought of your lips on his all over again, the softness that was your mouth, but also the blind eagerness behind your action that made him want to grovel for more than just a simple slotting of your lips together.

But he knew he couldn’t.

If you were struck by a dread that led you to vomit just from a kiss, he’d hate to think about your reaction to the unholy things he did as a result of the effect you’d had on him.

Or maybe you wouldn’t be startled.

Maybe he’d find the perfect way to break it down for you, to soothe your worries and guide you through it all, but those weren’t exactly the type of thoughts he should be having while walking you back to his house.

It had relatively the same layout as your own, just on a smaller scale.

Alfie guided you to the living room, letting you perch politely on the sofa while he went to grab something to help manage the dull ache in your wrist.

He returned holding a bag of frozen peas.

“Don’t have anything else.”

“That’s okay.” You smiled softly.

The moment he took your wrist into his hand, outstretching your arm so your palm rested in his lap, you swore your heart skipped a few beats and your mind went hazy. You were nearly entirely convinced you were about to pass out just from the touch alone, but when he lowered the frozen bag onto your skin and you jumped a little at the sudden temperature change, he ran a large finger over your knuckles and that was it.

You were blissed out from barely anything, but it was him, and that’s what made a world of difference.

You relaxed into his hold, your back slumping forward and the positioning of your legs was no longer tight and rigid.

Alfie rotated the bag on your skin, not wanting it to freeze in place and cause any bigger issues.

He spoke, filling the silence with light conversation, “Where’s your dad today?”

“Church meeting.” You answered, “Where’s yours?”

“Pub.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never been.”

“To a pub?”

You nodded.

“Yeah … I kinda figured.”

Your cheeks tingled again, and he smirked at your sheepish expression.

“It’s alright, maybe I’ll take you one day. Just … stay away from the vodka this time, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Definitely. Though, I don’t think I ever want to drink again.”

He smiled a little before letting his expression fall seriously, “A random question, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Sure.”

“How much did you pray after?”

“Um … a lot.” You hummed with a little shrug, “My knees were red by the end of it and I was crying a little ‘coz it hurt, but … God deserves my apology.”

Jesus Christ, that was not a visual he needed in his head right now.

He exhaled heavily, “Yeah?”

You nodded, pursing your lips, “Well, I had to apologise for drinking, and for trying to disobey the path he chose for me, and for … the kissing.”

A small part of him wanted to smirk at the way you were still so shy about even addressing what you’d done.

“Wh-Who was the girl you had over?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “Just someone I know. A friend.”

“Oh.” You muttered, “Okay.”

“Why? You jealous?”

You snapped an immediate response, “Jealousy is a sin.”

“Right,” He clicked his tongue, “Sorry.”

You opened your lips to ask another question, but you fell short, feeling like it wasn’t your place to ask.

“What?” He smirked, picking up on your hesitance.

“It’s nothing. Too invasive.” You shook your head.

“Reader, I really don’t care. You can ask me whatever you want.”

“Um … okay, I— Uh … How do you just … have sex?”

“Well, I put my dick in a girl—“

“Not like that!” You exclaimed, face screwing up in disgust and shaking your head rapidly.

He chuckled heartily, “No, I know. Uhm, I don’t really think of it too much.” He shrugged, “It’s just sex, y’know?”

“But it’s the closest you’ll ever physically be to someone, and you just … do that with anyone and everyone.”

He hummed, “I guess when you put it like that I sound a bit like a slut.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You replied quickly, “I just don’t understand.”

“That’s alright,” He shrugged again, “You don’t need to. You’ll find the right person at the right time.”

You rubbed your lips together, “I’m just scared loads of guys are gonna think I’m weird for not having done anything.”

Alfie frowned and shook his head, “They shouldn’t, and if they do, they’re not the right guy, yeah? You come to me if anyone tries to hurt you or make fun of you, alright?”

You nodded, giving him a warm smile, “Okay.”

“Cool.” He smirked.

“Cool.” You replied, glancing at him sideways before breaking into a bashful grin.

James had been a powerhouse of support, but it was Will’s messages that I found myself returning to. They weren't heavy or demanding; they were just… Will.

Will: Just saw your Instagram story. You look like you’ve been through it. Drink some water, have a snack. I’m here if you need anything, Rosie. No pressure to reply, just letting you know that I am open for business if you need a vent. x

I smiled at my screen, the first real smile in forty-eight hours. There was something about the way Will spoke direct, a bit cheeky, but inherently kind that cut through the mental fog Morgan had left behind.

But I couldn’t leave Manchester with things hanging by a thread. I owed myself the finality of a clean break.

I text Morgan to meet me at a small, popular coffee shop in the Northern Quarter. I chose it specifically because it was loud and crowded; Morgan wouldn't make a scene in public.

When I arrived, he was already there, sitting with a latte and looking impatient. He looked up and forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Finally. You ready to come home? I’ve cleared a space in the kitchen for your... charts, if that makes you feel better."

I sat down, not ordering anything. I felt a strange sense of detachment, as if I were watching this scene play out from a balcony.

"I’m not coming back, Morgan."

He laughed, a sharp, dismissive sound.

"Right. Because of one fight? Don't be dramatic, Rosie. I told you, I’m willing to help you manage your stuff. We just need to get you on a stricter schedule."

"I was at the house yesterday," I said, my voice steady. "I heard you talking to Beano. I heard you call me a toddler. I heard you say you were 'firm' with me because I need discipline."

Morgan’s face paled for a fraction of a second before hardening into a scowl. "You were eavesdropping? See, that’s exactly what I mean. The lack of boundaries"

"The lack of respect," I interrupted. "You don't think I have ADHD, Morgan. You think I have a character flaw. You think if you just 'parent' me enough, I’ll magically become the person you want me to be. But this is who I am. My brain is wired this way. And the fact that you think I’m a burden to be managed instead of a partner to be loved... that’s why we’re done."

"You're making a mistake," Morgan said, leaning forward, his voice dropping. "Who else is going to put up with the chaos? The lost keys, the half-finished projects, the mood swings? You think you’re little friends like Will or James are going to want to deal with that when the novelty wears off?"

The mention of my friends made my blood run cold, but it also solidified my resolve.

"They already do deal with it. And they’ve never made me feel like I’m 'too much.' Only you did that."

I stood up, my legs feeling like jelly, but my heart feeling strangely light. "I'm staying at Charlie's until I figure things out. Don't call me again. We are done, Morgan."

I walked out of the café without looking back. As soon as the cool Manchester air hit my face, I leaned against a brick wall and let out a sob that was half-grief and half-relief. It was over. The Manchester experiment, the relationship, the version of myself that tried to shrink to fit into Morgan's narrow expectations, it was all gone.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Will: Just checking in. Hope the 'talk' didn't go too sideways. If you need a distraction, I’m currently arguing with Mikey about whether a Jaffa Cake is a cake or a biscuit and I need a professional opinion. Team Cake is losing. Help.

I wiped my eyes, a shaky laugh escaping me. I started typing, my thumbs moving fast.

Me: It’s a cake, Will. It goes hard when it’s stale. Biscuits go soft. Also... I broke up with him. It’s officially over.

The reply was almost instant.

Will: Good. You deserve someone who knows the difference between a cake and a biscuit, and someone who knows exactly how lucky they are to have you. Hang in there, pet. The best is yet to come.