When the curtains call the time, Will we both go home alive?

Y/N smirked. “Because you intimidated him.”

“I did not intimidate him.”

“You absolutely did.”

Freja huffed. “Whatever. I still passed.” She paused, “With flying colors,” she added, just a little proud.

Y/N’s smile softened, genuine this time. “I knew you would.”

Freja glanced at her, a small grin tugging at her lips. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the help.”

Y/N shrugged lightly. “Of course.”

They talked while their nails were shaped and filed, drifting from one topic to the next without really thinking about it. It was easy here. Contained. Safe. No heavy conversations, no lingering tension trying to push its way back in.

“So,” Y/N said, glancing over as her nail tech started on polish, “one of my clients today told me about this new place downtown. Said it’s really good.”

Freja perked up slightly. “Like how good?”

“Great food, warm atmosphere, good drinks,” Y/N said. “Her words, not mine.”

Kylie, Y/N’s nail tech, chimed in immediately. “Oh, no—she’s right. You need to go.”

Y/N blinked, laughing softly. “That convincing, huh?”

“Absolutely,” Kylie said. “It’s actually reasonably priced too, which is rare for places like that.”

Freja nodded once, decisive. “Okay. Sold.”

Y/N grinned. “That was easy.”

“Food is a strong motivator.”

“Fair.”

The restaurant lived up to the hype.

Warm lighting, soft chatter, the kind of place that felt cozy without trying too hard. The kind of place you could sit for hours and not notice time passing.

Y/N took a sip of her drink, nodding almost immediately. “Okay, yeah. I absolutely need to thank Amanda next week.”

Freja laughed lightly. “Told you it sounded good.”

“You didn’t tell me anything, Kylie did.”

“Details.”

They split an appetizer, picked at it while they talked, then moved on to their meals without ever really pausing the conversation.

It bounced everywhere: weekend plans, random stories, things that didn’t matter and didn’t need to.

“Speaking of this weekend,” Freja said, setting her fork down for a second, “my parents asked if you wanted to come over tomorrow. They’re doing a cookout.”

Y/N scoffed immediately. “Duh.”

Freja smirked. “That was fast.”

“If I don’t show up, your dad will personally come kidnap me,” Y/N said, taking another sip of her drink. “You know that.”

“Accurate.”

“Who else is gonna stand there and drink beers with him while he mans the grill?” Y/N added. “You? Absolutely not.”

Freja rolled her eyes. “I could.”

“You won’t.”

“I might.”

“You won’t,” Y/N repeated, grinning.

Freja huffed a laugh. “Okay, yeah. I won’t.”

“Exactly.”

There was a comfortable pause as they both ate for a minute.

Then Freja glanced at her again, more casually this time. “You good?”

Y/N didn’t even hesitate.

“Yeah,” she said, just as easy. “I’m good.”

For the moment, she almost believed it because here, across from Freja, surrounded by noise and warmth and things that didn’t demand anything from her, it was easier to pretend nothing had shifted. Easier to sit in the version of things she knew how to handle.

Freja watched her for a second longer, like she was checking, not pushing.

Then she nodded. “Good,” she said simply.

And let it stay there for now.

​Y/N took another sip of her drink, letting the conversation settle for a second before she glanced back up at Freja.

“So,” she said casually, swirling the straw in her glass, “how are things going with Folio?”

Freja’s reaction was immediate.

Her face flushed, fast.

Y/N’s entire expression lit up. “Ohhh,” she leaned forward slightly, grin widening, “that face.”

Freja groaned, covering part of her face with her hand. “Don’t start.”

“That face screams serious,” Y/N continued, absolutely delighted. “What did I miss?”

Freja tried to fight the smile pulling at her lips, but it lost almost instantly. “We’ve just been… talking.”

“About?”

Freja hesitated for half a second, then just said it. “Getting a place together.”

Y/N froze. “Shut up.”

Freja laughed, a little breathless now. “I’m serious.”

“No, you’re not,” Y/N said, shaking her head, eyes wide. “You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not lying!”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, staring at her. “Freja.”

“I’m serious!”

“Freja.”

Freja laughed again, softer this time. “Okay, yes—it’s serious.”

Y/N let out a disbelieving huff, then broke into a huge smile. “That’s insane.”

“In a good way,” Freja added quickly.

“In a great way,” Y/N corrected. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Freja relaxed into it a little, her smile turning softer, more grounded. “It’d be nice, honestly.”

Y/N tilted her head, listening.

“It gives me stability while I’m still in school,” Freja continued, tracing her finger lightly along the rim of her glass. “But it also gets me out of my parents’ place.”

“Which you’ve been dying for,” Y/N added.

“Exactly,” Freja said. “And Folio’s been really… good about it.”

“How?”

“He told me to focus on school first,” she said. “Like, actually focus. And if I need to cut my hours at work down, I can.”

Y/N’s expression softened again.

“He doesn’t want me running myself into the ground,” Freja added quietly. “Especially with my internship starting soon.”

“The one that pays basically nothing?” Y/N teased lightly.

Freja huffed. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Love that for you.”

“Right?” she laughed. “But still—it’s experience. And he gets that.”

Y/N nodded slowly, a small smile pulling at her lips. “That’s… really good, Frej.”

Freja glanced at her, something a little more vulnerable in her expression now. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said, no hesitation. “Like, really good.”

Freja smiled, softer this time. “Thanks.”

Y/N leaned forward slightly, nudging her foot under the table. “I’m so happy for you.”

Freja let out a small breath, like she hadn’t realized she needed it. “Thank you.”

Y/N took another sip of her drink, letting that happiness sit there, letting it be genuine, uncomplicated, untouched by anything else.

Because this? This was easy to feel. Easy to celebrate.

Even if, somewhere in the back of her mind, something else tugged quietly, she didn’t let it reach the surface. Instead, she smiled at Freja and said, “Okay, but important question.”

Freja raised a brow. “What?”

“Who gets the bigger closet?”

Freja laughed. “Absolutely me.”

“Rude.”

“Correct.”

“Folio’s gonna regret this decision.”

“He already knows what he signed up for.”

“Debatable,” Y/N grinned.

And just like that, they were back in it. Light. Easy. Exactly how it had always been.

They both laughed, the sound easy and familiar, like nothing in the world had shifted at all.

Y/N leaned back slightly in her chair, tilting her head as she looked at Freja. “So what’s the plan—are you guys just gonna jump straight into getting a new place together, or are you migrating into his current one first?”

Freja took a sip of her drink, thinking for a second before answering. “Probably his place first.”

Y/N nodded once. “That makes sense.”

“It’s nice,” Freja added. “Like, really nice. And there’s no rush to find something bigger right away.”

“Yeah,” Y/N said, a small smile pulling at her lips. “It is a cute place.”

Freja’s eyes flicked to her, giving her a look.

“What?” Y/N asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

Freja smirked. “There’s a guest room, you know.”

Y/N blinked. “Okay?”

“He already said it’s yours,” Freja continued casually, like she wasn’t dropping anything significant. “Whenever you wanna crash.”

Y/N let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Man—so even if you move out of your parents’ house, I’m still part of the package, huh?”

Freja laughed with her. “You are.”

“That’s crazy.”

“And he knows it,” Freja added.

Y/N raised a brow. “Oh, he knows it?”

“He does,” Freja said. “I actually think he’d be offended if we stopped our childish sleepovers.”

Y/N snorted. “Why?”

Freja shrugged lightly, a small smile lingering. “Because we still have them now.”

“That’s fair.”

“And he knows we’ve been doing this forever,” she continued. “He doesn’t want us to stop just because I moved out.”

Y/N nodded slowly, her expression softening just a fraction. “That’s… actually really sweet.”

“It is,” Freja said quietly.

Y/N glanced down at her drink, fingers tracing the edge of the glass before she looked back up, lighter again. “Well,” she said, a small shrug in her shoulders, “you just let me know if I’m ever too much.”

Freja’s reaction was immediate. Her brows pulled together, confusion flickering across her face. “What?”

Y/N waved it off quickly. “You know—like, if I’m always there, or—”

“Hey,” Freja cut in, firm but not harsh.

Y/N stilled.

“You’re not ‘too much,’” Freja said, holding her gaze. “You’ve never been too much.”

Y/N opened her mouth, but Freja didn’t let her brush past it.

“I mean it,” she added. “You’re part of my life. That doesn’t just… change because my address does.”

Y/N held her gaze for a second before she nodded, softer this time. “Okay.”

Freja leaned back slightly, her tone easing again. “Besides, if anything, you’re the only reason I won’t go insane.”

“Wow,” Y/N said dryly. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“It is,” Freja said, completely serious.

Y/N huffed a laugh. “Good thing I thrive under pressure.”

“Debatable.”

“Rude.” Y/N smiled, shaking her head as she took another sip of her drink.

Freja watched her for a second longer, like she almost said something, then decided not to.

Y/N hummed softly, tapping her fingers against her glass like she was thinking something through.

“I’m gonna have to reassure Elias I’ll still come see him,” she said, glancing up at Freja.

Freja laughed immediately. “Yes. Please.”

“I’m serious,” Y/N said, though she was already smiling. “He’s gonna think I abandoned him.”

Freja shook her head, still laughing. “No, my parents need it more than he does.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Oh?”

“The wrath that six-year-old will reign upon that house if you stop coming around?” Freja said, pointing at her. “Terrifying.”

Y/N let out a laugh, leaning back slightly. “That’s fair.”

“He’ll unionize,” Freja added. “Start making demands.”

“Good for him,” Y/N said. “Know your worth, king.”

Freja snorted. “Exactly.”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling. “I can’t abandon my little buddy.”

There was a small pause before something else clicked into place in her head.

Her expression shifted, a little more thoughtful, a little more her again.

“Actually,” she said slowly, “if you’re moving out…”

Freja narrowed her eyes slightly. “What are you plotting?”

Y/N ignored that. “Maybe I’ll invest in an air mattress.”

Freja blinked. “An air mattress.”

“Yeah,” Y/N said, warming up to the idea. “And I’ll be the cool aunt that has him over for sleepovers.”

Freja’s face lit up immediately. “Oh my god.”

“So your parents can actually have time alone,” Y/N added, shrugging like it was no big deal.

Freja laughed, shaking her head. “He would be over the moon.”

“I know,” Y/N said, a little softer now, but still smiling. “He’d love it.”

“He’d never want to leave,” Freja added.

“Also true.”

Freja leaned forward slightly, grinning. “You’re creating a monster.”

“I already did,” Y/N shot back. “I’m just evolving him.”

Freja laughed again, resting her chin in her hand as she looked at her. “You really love that kid.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

Freja’s expression softened a little at that. “He really loves you too, you know.”

Y/N looked down at her drink for a second, then back up, smile smaller but still there. “Yeah. I know.”

Then Freja nudged her foot under the table. “You’re gonna have to commit now.”

“To what?”

“To being the cool sleepover house,” she said. “Snacks, movies, the whole thing.”

Y/N groaned. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“I’m gonna have to buy like—kid-approved snacks.”

“And regular snacks,” Freja added. “For you.”

“Important distinction.”

“Very.”

Y/N huffed a laugh. “This is how I end up being the favorite, isn’t it?”

Freja raised a brow. “You already are.”

“Damn right.”

They both laughed again, the conversation slipping right back into that easy rhythm, plans stacking on top of plans, jokes layered over something real.

Y/N took another sip of her drink, letting the conversation settle into a comfortable lull before she spoke again, casual, like it didn’t carry any weight at all.

“So,” she said, glancing up at Freja, tone light, steady, normal, “what does Jollybean think about all this? You and Folio.”

Freja didn’t catch anything off about it.

Why would she?

Y/N’s expression was relaxed, her posture loose, voice even. No tension. No hesitation. Nothing to suggest there was anything sitting underneath the question.

Nicholas would’ve been proud.

Freja shrugged slightly, reaching for her drink. “He’s fine with it.”

“Just… fine?” Y/N asked, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

Freja rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Y/N hummed. “Do I?”

“He likes Folio, clearly,” Freja said. “There’s no weird tension or anything.”

“That’s good,” Y/N nodded.

“It’d be more surprising if there was,” Freja added. “They’re literally in a band together.”

“Fair.”

Freja studied her for a second, then added, “He just wants me to be good.”

Y/N’s fingers stilled slightly around her glass.

“Good how?”

Freja shrugged. “Taken care of. Not stressed. Not overwhelmed.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “That sounds about right.”

“He doesn’t say a lot about it,” Freja continued. “But he’s… observant.”

Y/N let out a quiet huff of a laugh. “Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”

Freja smiled faintly. “You know how he is.”

Y/N did. Better than most.

She took another sip of her drink, letting the coolness ground her for a second before she set it back down.

“Did he give Folio the whole ‘if you hurt her, I’ll kill you’ speech?” she asked, tone teasing.

Freja laughed. “No.”

“Really?”

“No,” she said, still smiling. “But I think Folio got the message anyway.”

“Probably just from existing around him,” Y/N muttered.

“Exactly.”

They both laughed softly.

The conversation stayed light. Easy. Safe.

Exactly where Y/N needed it.

Because this? This she could handle.

Talking about him like this. Indirect. Detached. Like he was just another part of the background of their lives.

Not the center of something she’d spent years ignoring.

Not the person she’d seen that morning, sitting across from someone else, looking like he fit there in a way that made her chest tighten.

She didn’t let any of that show.

Didn’t let it bleed into her tone, her expression, her body language.

Nothing.

Because she knew she’d have to be okay eventually.

There wasn’t another option.

Jolly wasn’t someone she could avoid. Not realistically. Not long-term. His name, his presence, his place in her life, it wasn’t going anywhere.

So she did what she always did: adjusted, compartmentalized. Kept it neat. Controlled. Manageable.

Freja didn’t notice a thing, and Y/N made sure it stayed that way.

Even if, underneath all of it, it still stung in a way she hadn’t quite figured out how to ignore yet.

Tag List:

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Neither of you really slept that night. Noah laid there on his back for hours, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness of his room, replaying every second of the night over and over again- the makeup running down your cheeks, the look on your face, the exact moment he saw your heart shatter to pieces, the way you flinched when he reached for you, the way the door slammed shut behind you. The way you said it so certainly, so final. “We’re done.” 

Before he knew it, his alarm was going off. He assumed he was to go into work as usual…

He dragged a hand over his face, letting out a long sigh as he sat up on the edge of his bed. His chest ached, it felt heavier than it ever had before, and his eyes were sore from the lack of sleep- or was it from the tears?

His phone sat on his bedside table, and he reached for it to silence his alarm. He then picked it up, checking for any messages… but none of them were from you. So he locked it again and set it back down. 

He got up and went by his morning as usual- get in the shower, get dressed, grab keys, leave. But the drive to the shop felt different today, usually you'd be by his side, sat in the passenger seat, or on the phone- speaking to him through his car speakers. But today the drive was silent, though he didn’t notice, because his mind was loud enough to fill the emptiness. 

By the time he pulled into the parking lot, he felt nervous. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked in- would you be there waiting for him so you could tell him he’s fired, or have you had time to think and realised you want to give him another chance? 

He parked up, but sat there in his car for a moment. He hadn’t felt this nervous since his first day, when he found out Steve had a beautiful niece who worked in the office. Now he was nervous because he knew he screwed it all up, and he held on to the tiny bit of hope that now you were sober you’d be thinking differently… 

But as he walked through the big door into the workshop, he spotted a box sitting by a stack of tires. He thought nothing of it until he saw his name scribbled across it, written in your handwriting. That’s when his stomach dropped. 

He looked towards your office, the door was half open and he could see you inside, sitting at your desk. He swallowed hard before he slowly started to walk, pushing the door open a little more as he stepped in. 

As soon as he did, you looked up, and for a moment neither of you said anything. 

It was obvious to the both of you that you were feeling the same, that neither of you slept, your eyes were red and swollen, you looked exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with work- and he knew he didn’t look much better. 

He cleared his throat and finally spoke, though his voice was quieter than usual. 

“...Morning.” 

It felt wrong the moment he said it, because it made it feel like everything was normal, like nothing happened, which you both knew was far from the truth. Still, you held his gaze for a moment longer before you looked away, going back to typing out an email. 

“Morning.” You said back, your voice flat and devoid of emotion, which hurt him more than if you were to just ignore him.

Noah stood there awkwardly for a moment, shifting his weight on his feet. 

“...That box out there-”

“It’s your stuff,” you cut in, still not looking at him, “From my place. Everything you had there.”

There was no hesitation, no softness in your voice, you were just straight to the point. He clenched his jaw, nodding his head. 

“Right…” 

Then you were both silent again. You weren’t reading anything, or typing anymore, you were just staring down at your keyboard to avoid looking at him- because you knew you’d crack if you did. 

You’ve never seen him like this. Noah was always too confident for his own good, cocky and arrogant sometimes in the beginning, full of himself, annoying- but right now he looked drained, he looked heartbroken, and you hated it. 

You hated that you still cared. You hated that you couldn’t hate him.

“I didn’t throw anything away.” You added after a moment, your voice a little softer now but still distant enough to make his heart hurt, “I’m not that kind of person… I figured you’d want it all back.” 

Noah swallowed again. 

“Yeah… thank you.” 

You both paused, Noah lingered there in silence, like he knew you both had so much to say, but you were both afraid...

But you did have things to say, and you knew he had to hear it sooner rather than later, so you straightened up in your chair, like you were bracing yourself, and you forced yourself into business mode. Because this is the only reason you’re both here together now. To work. 

“I’ll keep you on for now,” you said, forcing your voice to stay steady despite the lump in your throat, “Until I find someone new.” 

His brows drew together slightly. 

“What?”

You finally looked back up at him and he hated it, there was nothing soft left in your expression at all. There was no warmth, that look of pure love had completely vanished overnight. And to be honest, he couldn’t blame you. This is what he deserved. 

“I need a mechanic,” you said simply, “I can’t run the shop on my own.” 

“So what, I just stay until you can replace me?” He asked, his chest tightening as he thought about it. 

“Yes.” You said, no apology, no hesitation, no putting it nicely. Just the truth. 

“...And then what?” He asked.

“Then you’re out. And I never have any reason to speak- or even look- at you again.” 

That hit him right where it hurts. He took a slow, deep breath before nodding his head slightly. 

“Right.” He said as he exhaled, and then you looked back down at your desk again, like the conversation was done. 

At least it was for you, but he didn’t move. There were too many things sitting on his chest, too many words he wanted to say last night-

“You didn’t even let me explain- last night, I mean.” 

Your hands paused over your keyboard for a second, before they continued moving again. 

“There’s nothing to explain.” 

“Yes there is,” he insisted, stepping forward slightly, “You only heard one side of it, you only heard what you wanted to hear and things were probably twisted-”

“Don’t.” You warned, your voice sharp as you looked up at him again. “Don’t make it sound like this is on me, Noah.” 

“It is on you, you didn’t even-”

“You said yes.” You cut him off, your voice raising despite how hard you tried to keep calm, “I asked if it was true and you said yes. I can’t be with someone who can… who can do that to me. So this is it. I will not be treated like that.” 

He stared at you, feeling his heart shatter more and more. 

“So this is it?” He asked, his voice rougher now, “We're over? After everything?”

You let out a weak, humourless laugh as you shook your head. 

“That’s the problem, Noah.” You sighed, “I thought it was everything too. It seems you thought otherwise.” 

You saw the way his lips pressed together as if to stop them from trembling, and that was almost enough to break you. 

“I’ve got things to do,” you said coldly, “If you’re working today then there’s a car booked in at eleven, the brakes need looking at.”

His heart ached at the way you spoke to him, like this was normal, like he was nothing more than an employee. And he stood there for a moment longer, just waiting for something, for anything… but you didn’t look at him again, so eventually he turned and walked out of your office. 

And the second the door softly clicked shut behind him was when you broke down. It hit you all at once, and the professional act you had to put on like a mask slipped. Your hand flew up to your mouth as you choked on a sob, tears blurred your vision as they finally spilled over again, too fast to wipe away. Your chest ached so much that it hurt to even breathe. 

You’re such an idiot, you thought to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head like you could push it all away, like you could undo it all. Like you could go back to yesterday morning, and tell the girls you weren’t feeling well, anything to remain blissfully unaware. 

But you couldn’t. Because it happened now, you found out and he even confirmed it. 

All along, it had meant nothing. 

You weren’t supposed to be like this, you weren’t supposed to let someone else make you feel this way. You weren’t supposed to need anyone. You built your life so you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else, but then he came along and changed it all… now you couldn’t imagine living the rest of your life without him. 

And you hated that you couldn’t shut it off. That you couldn’t stop caring, you couldn’t stop loving him.

You hated that you wanted him to try harder, to walk back through the door and fix it. 

…

It was finally time for you to take your lunch break, and you hadn’t spoken to Noah again. Not properly at least, a few customers came in and you had to call his name, but that’s as far as it went. 

You managed to distract yourself with work though, invoices and emails and phone calls, but every time you heard a tool drop, every time you saw his shadow, every time he spoke to a customer, your heart ached. 

But you closed your laptop, you stood up, grabbed your keys, and walked out of the office. Though, instead of leaving through the front door, you passed straight by him in the garage.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t stop or slow down. 

“I’m going on lunch,” you said flatly as you walked past, “If the phone rings please answer it.”

“Yeah, of course.” He said. But that was it. 

You didn’t give him the chance to say anything else, because then you were out the door, already walking around to the back where your car was parked. 

You walked straight up to it, your hands shaking slightly as you fumbled with your keys before finally getting inside.

The second the car door shut, you finally let yourself breathe. Your head fell back against the seat, your eyes squeezing shut as you let out a long, shaky breath.

“Okay…” You whispered to yourself.

You managed to last all morning. You held it together all morning. But now you needed to let it out.

You grabbed your phone and scrolled through your contacts until you found Jess. You didn’t even think before pressing the call button, and it only ran twice before she picked up. 

“Hey…” Jess answered, her voice immediately concerned. “Are you okay? I didn’t hear from you after you left last night, I don’t know how many times I texted you-“

“It’s true.” 

You were met with silence on her end.

“…What?” Jess finally asked, her voice a little quieter now.

“It’s true,” you repeated. “What she said. About Noah.”

Jess went quiet again for a moment.

“What the fuck?” She finally said, completely thrown. “I thought Maya was just- I thought she was making shit up!”

“Me too,” you whispered, swallowing hard. “I thought she was lying, I thought- but I went to his place last night and I asked him and he… he said it’s true.”

A heavy silence followed, then Jess exhaled slowly.

“No…” she whispered. “No, that doesn’t sound right. That doesn’t sound like him.”

“He said it,” you insisted. “I asked if it was true and he said yes!!”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Jess said, more to herself now. “The way he is with you-“

“I know!” You cut in. “I don’t know what’s real anymore, Jess! I don’t know if any of it was ever real!” Your chest ached again, and tears started to blur your vision. “I never wanted to get into something like this and I did it anyway because I thought- I thought he was different-“

“I know,” Jess said softly. “I know…“

“And he even said he loved me,” your voice dropped, quieter now but somehow more broken. “I said it first… but he said it back. I believed it…”

Jess didn’t interrupt you or try to come up with a solution, she was just letting you let it all out. She knew you just needed someone who’d listen. 

“And now I don’t even know if that was real.” You whispered. “How can I believe anyone ever again?” Your hand came up to cover your mouth as another sob slipped out.

“…What exactly did you say to him last night?” Jess asked carefully.

“I don’t remember much of it, but I asked him if what Maya said was true,” you replied, your voice shaky. “And he just- he didn’t even hesitate, Jess. He just said yeah. And that he was sorry and it wasn’t meant to happen the way it did and…” you let out a weak and broken laugh, “What am I supposed to think?”

Jess went quiet again.

“…He said it wasn’t meant to happen the way it did?” She repeated slowly.

“Yeah.”

She went quiet again, but for longer this time, like she was thinking. 

“Thats weird…”

Your stomach turned. 

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” she said, sounding a little uncertain. “That just… doesn’t sound like an answer to that question.”

You frowned slightly, confusion slipping through the hurt.

“What?”

“I mean… if you asked him if he only wanted to sleep with you to be your first, why would he say ‘it wasn’t meant to happen the way it did’?” Jess said. “That sounds like he’s talking about something else. Surely if he just wanted to get in your pants, that’s exactly what he wanted to happen., and it worked out just fine.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know,” she said quickly. “I’m just… I’m saying maybe there’s been some kind of misunderstanding?”

“No,” you cut in immediately, shaking your head even though she couldn’t see you. “No, Jess, there’s no misunderstanding. He said yes.”

“But you don’t know-“

“He said it,” you repeated firmer, even as your voice trembled. “I heard him. He said it to my face.”

Jess sighed softly.

“Okay… okay,” she said gently. “I’m just saying, maybe don’t shut down on him completely yet. Just… maybe talk to him again when you’re calmer-“

“I can’t,” you whispered. “I can’t talk to him or I know what'll happen. I’ll give in. And I don't want him to think I'm just like all the other girls he's been with. I won't let him think I'll just put up with this shit.”

Jess began to speak again, but you weren’t listening… because your phone buzzed as you held it to your ear. You pulled it away slightly, glancing down at the screen.

New message from Aunt Linda❤️ 

Your stomach dropped instantly.

“Uh… hang on a second.”

You opened the message.

Hi darling, just wanted to let you know they’ve scheduled Steve’s heart surgery for Friday. He’s acting like it’s no big deal, of course… but I thought you should know. I’ll keep you up to date with everything x

You felt your heart sink, your whole body suddenly went ice cold.

“…Oh my god.” You whispered.

“What?” Jess’s voice came through quickly. “What is it?”

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening all over again, but this time it felt different. It was less upsetting, more terrifying. 

“It’s Linda,” you said quietly. “She said Steve- he’s going in for surgery... next week.”

Jess inhaled sharply.

“Oh shit…”

Your head fell back against the seat again, your eyes closing as everything hit you at once.

What the fuck did you do to deserve all of this?

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, your voice breaking all over again. “I actually can’t do this, Jess.”

“You can,” she said softly. “You can. You don’t have to deal with everything alone, or at once, okay? Just deal with one thing at a time-”

“How?” You cried, “How the fuck do I even begin to deal with this?!” 

… 

Your break felt like it passed in just a couple minutes, rather than an hour. When it was time to go back to work, you didn’t want to move. But you knew you had to. 

So you got out of the car and walked towards the building again, walking in through the door into your office, but as you stepped inside you stopped. Because Noah was there, standing by the small counter in the corner, using the coffee machine. 

Part of you wanted to turn around and leave… but you didn’t. 

You quietly stepped in, wiping at your cheeks, hoping it didn’t look like you spent your break crying in your car. But as the door shut behind you, Noah turned around, and the second his eyes landed on you his face softened. 

“…Are you okay?” He asked carefully.

God, you didn’t want to cry in front of him, so you pressed your lips together, sealing them shut as you shook your head. 

He picked up his coffee mug with a little frown as he carefully stepped around your desk. All he wanted to do was reach for you, hold you in his arms, kiss you- but he knew he wasn’t allowed to anymore. 

“I-” he hesitated, then tried again, quieter. “I got a text from Linda.”

Your eyes lifted up to him for a second. 

“She said Steve’s surgery's scheduled,” he said gently, “It’s next week.”

You nodded slowly, feeling your throat burn. 

“Yeah,” you managed, your voice small. “She texted me too.”

Silence settled between you, but this time it was different. You both stood there, both holding back from wrapping your arms around each other, both hurting. 

He shifted his weight on his feet, taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes not leaving your face. He was trying to read you, trying to work out what was going on in your head, because he hated seeing you like this and it was even worse knowing there was nothing he could do to help. 

“I know this is a lot,” he said quietly. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve any of this.”

For fucks sake Noah.

Your hand came up, pressing against your lips like you could physically hold everything in, because you felt it all building up again. It was too much, especially all at once. You felt your chest ache, the lump in your throat was back- and Noah noticed it all. 

Without thinking, he took a step forward, but then stopped when he remembered. Instead, he let out a soft sigh. 

“I know you hate me right now,” he said softly, “And you have every reason to, but I need you to know I’m here for you. Whether we’re on good or bad terms, whether you want me or not, I will always be here, okay?”

Your eyes squeezed shut for a second, because you did want him. And that was the problem. 

But you couldn’t give in, after everything, you wouldn’t let yourself. So you just nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and he understood. Or at least he understood enough, as he didn’t push. He didn’t move closer or force you to say anything or try to fix it. 

He just stood there, close enough to be there but still far enough to respect your boundaries. 

It made him feel sick knowing the person he loved more than anyone or anything was hurting, and that it was mostly his fault. He hated that you were holding yourself together by threads, that you wouldn’t even look at him properly anymore.

But he didn’t allow himself to be selfish right now, he didn’t let himself make it about him, he just wanted to be there for you through your uncle’s surgery, especially after Steve had told him to look after you.

“If anything happens I need to know she’s in safe hands.” 

But now he’s fucked it all up. And he couldn’t fix it.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair before slipping his red beanie back on. 

“I’ll… be out there.” He said quietly.

But you shook your head. 

“Go on your lunch break.” You said as you sat down at your desk, opening your laptop back up again so you didn’t have to look at him. 

“But it’s not-”

“It’s fine, Noah. The next customers booked in at 2.”

He nodded his head and took the final sip of his coffee before reaching for his keys and jacket. 

“I won’t be long.” He said, not expecting a response. 

And with that, he left. 

…

During his break, Noah decided to drive to one of the small shops not far from work. It was near the restaurant that Maya worked in, and he made sure to poke his head in to see if she was working today… but she was nowhere to be seen. In a way he was glad, because he wasn’t sure how kind or patient he was feeling today. 

So then he headed into the little store, he grabbed a sandwich and a bag of gummy bears before his eyes caught on a pretty bouquet of flowers, like the ones he bought you for Valentines’ Day. 

He stared at them for a moment, debating whether he should or not… he didn’t have much money, only the coins that were in his jacket pocket. But he didn’t care. He’d put back the sandwich if he had to. 

He picked up the flowers and handed the items over to pay, counting the coins from his pocket- thank god he just had enough. 

He knew he couldn’t make up for everything with a cheap bouquet, it wouldn’t even scratch the surface of everything that was wrong, but he didn’t know what else he could do. He couldn’t fix this with words right now, because you didn’t want to listen. But maybe this- something small, a little quiet gesture- would show you that he wanted to fix this. He didn’t want to let you go, and he’d spend the rest of his life apologising if it meant you’d even think about giving him another chance. 

By the time he got back to work, his chest still felt heavy, and he wondered whether this was a good idea, or if it’d actually make things worse… anyway, he walked in through the garage door, and peered into your office. He couldn’t see you… good! 

He made sure to move quickly, 

He stepped inside, glancing around your office- your desk looked just how it did earlier, papers scattered, your pen resting off to the side, your mug of tea half finished… but then he saw that you still had the little picture of him on your desk. The silly one you took when he showed you the polaroid camera he’d bought- he thought it’d be hilarious to take fake mugshots of each other, so his one sat on your desk, and yours was on his desk in his bedroom.

He hesitated for a moment by your desk, he assumed you were in the bathroom right now so you could come out at any moment and see him there, standing by your desk holding a bouquet of flowers. 

So he moved quickly. He set them down gently on your desk, his heart aching as his eyes lingered on them for a second before he turned and walked away, leaving your office just as quietly as he came in. 

By the time you came back he was back in the workshop. You didn’t even spot the flowers at first, not until you sat down. 

They looked like they had been carefully placed, like whoever had left then didn’t want to make a big deal of it. 

Your stomach twisted, because you knew exactly who bought them. Nobody else would, no one else had a reason to- nobody else knew those were your favourite flowers. 

You tried so hard to force your mind to stay exactly where it was, to not go there, to not let the thoughts creep in. But they did anyway. 

If what Maya said was true… then why would he still be trying?

You chewed your lip as you thought, staring at the flowers as your chest started to rise and fall slower, heavier. 

It didn’t make sense. 

If it had all been some kind of game to him- something shallow and meaningless like she was making it out to be- then what’s this? A quiet gesture with no audience, no way of knowing how you’d react… just flowers on your desk. 

Your throat tightened as Jess’s voice echoed in the back of your mind.

“Maybe there’s been some kind of misunderstanding…”

You shook your head quickly, like you could physically push the thought away.

No. You weren’t doing this. You weren’t about to sit here and start doubting everything just because of a bouquet. He probably felt bad- he probably just wants to keep his job. Yeah, that was it… that’s what this is about!

But a part of you wanted to believe otherwise. 

With a long sigh, you pushed your chair back just a little so you could get back up. You knew there was a vase tucked in the back of the cupboard- a customer had bought you flowers years ago when he found out it was your birthday, and when Steve told Linda she immediately drove over with a vase so you could put them on your desk- so you moved things around and eventually found it. 

You crossed the room with the vase in your hands, washing it out before filling it with water from the sink before reaching for the flowers. You remembered what Linda taught you that afternoon, and you cut the stems at an angle before placing them inside. 

You didn’t let yourself think about how he must’ve gone out of his way to get them for you, how you knew he didn't have much money left right now, how he didn’t even make a point to let you know he got them. You just set the vase down on your desk and stepped back. 

You looked at them for a moment- they sure were pretty- but then you looked away. Because if you stared at them for too long, you might start thinking again. And you couldn’t do that right now. 

You sat back down, pulling the papers toward you again, forcing your attention onto work, numbers, time slots- anything that wasn’t Noah. 

And even though you tried, your eyes still drifted back to the flowers every now and then.

…

The rest of the day was painfully slow. Every hour dragged, every minute stretched longer than it should have, at one point you thought today would never end. 

You kept your head down the entire afternoon, burying yourself in anything that resembled work, anything that gave you an excuse not to think. But it didn’t matter, because nothing really distracted you. 

By the time things started winding down, the sky outside was growing darker and darker, you were still pretending to be busy. But then you heard the sound of the toolbox shutting, and the thud of his work boots on the concrete ground until he stopped just outside the office door. 

Then there was a soft knock, making your heart jump. 

“Yeah?” You called out, then the door began to open. 

Noah quietly stepped inside, like he was trying not to take up too much space. He reached for his jacket and slung it over one arm as he grabbed his keys, like he’d come in for exactly that and nothing more.

But he didn’t leave straight away like you were starting to think he would. His eyes found you first, and then the flowers. You saw the way his expression changed, how he almost looked surprised that you kept them… but he didn’t say anything, he didn’t ask or point it out. He just looked back over at you. 

And then the air between you felt heavier again.

“I just…” He started, then stopped, like he was trying to find the right way to say what he wanted to say.

You stayed still, watching him and waiting, not helping him out. 

“Can we please just talk?” He asked finally.

There it was. You’ve been waiting for this for the last hour, you’ve been dreading it. As much as you wanted him to tell you “his side”, you didn’t want to risk it when you knew how easily you’d give in. Even though you had so many questions, even though the whole situation confused you, you let out a soft exhale. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You said softly, almost apologetic. 

You saw the slight change in his posture, the way his jaw tightened just a little, like he was trying not to react too quickly.

“There is.” He said quietly.

You shook your head.

“Noah-”

“Just hear me out,” he cut in, stepping forward slightly. “That’s all I’m asking. You don’t have to forgive me, you don’t have to do anything. Just let me explain, please.”

Your stomach twisted, because a part of you wanted to say yes, but then again… he said it. Your jaw clenched as you looked up at him again, your expression hardening just slightly.

“You already did.”

His brows pulled together.

“What?”

“You said it was true. There’s nothing more to explain, Noah. I’m not going to go round in circles again.”

Frustration crossed his face as he shook his head. 

“But it’s… it’s not what you think. Maya-”

“Then what is it?” You shot back, your voice rising now despite yourself. “Because it sounded pretty clear to me.”

He stepped closer again, more urgent now.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“I didn’t need you to,” you replied immediately. “You said enough.”

He stared at you like he didn’t recognise the person in front of him. Like he didn’t understand how things had gotten here when just 48 hours ago your limbs were tangled together, wrapped up in his sheets, holding each other like you were all you needed. 

“…Please,” he said again, quieter this time. “Just give me five minutes.”

You swallowed hard as you looked away, because if you kept looking at him like that you might just break. And you couldn’t, not now. Not after you’d stood your ground all day. 

“There’s nothing to fix,” you said, softer now, but no less firm. “It’s done, Noah. You can go back to your groupies now, you can tell all the other girls that-”

“I don’t want anyone else.” He said, “I know I’ve fucked up, and I-”

“Fucked up?” You scoffed, “Is that all you think this is. You fucked up, you think an apology and some shitty flowers are gonna fix this?”

Noah didn’t argue this time. You could tell that hurt him, he just stood there for a moment like he was trying to decide whether to keep pushing or finally let go… and finally, he nodded his head once, slipping his arms into his jacket. 

“…Right,” he said under his breath. “Okay.” 

But just before he could leave, you spoke again, because there was one more thing.

“Can you do me a favour?”

He looked up at you again, a flicker of what looked like hope crossing his face at the fact that you were still talking.

“Yeah…?” 

You swallowed, looking up to meet his eyes. 

“Can you give me my stuff back?” You asked. “From your place.”

His expression faltered a little. 

“What?”

“My things,” you clarified. “Whatever I left at your place?"

He felt his heart get crushed again, because he knew what this meant. This wasn’t just about having your stuff back, it was about closing the door properly. Making sure there wasn’t any reason to speak again once he was replaced at work. 

His gaze dropped for a second before lifting back to you.

“Sure.” He said finally, his voice quiet and flat. “I’ll drop it off tomorrow.”

Your chest ached, but you nodded anyway.

“Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t try again or push, he just stood there for one last second, like he was waiting for something… but then he turned and reached for the door. Then he walked out, and you didn’t stop him. 

…

By the time you got home, you didn’t want to be alone. Being at home didn’t feel right without him, you had gotten so used to his presence, every room now had memories that you tried so hard to push down, but the whole place just felt different. It’s almost like it didn’t feel like home anymore. 

So you finally send an answer to Jess’s text that she sent earlier. 

Jess: It’s date night tonight, I’m going out with Sam but we’re stealing you. No arguments x

You: Sorry it’s been a long day, I’ll explain whilst we’re out 

Jess: So you’re coming with us? :)

You: Well you said no arguments…

Jess: YAY!! 

You didn’t have the energy to look put together, and you didn’t feel like you had a reason to either. You just changed into a nicer outfit than you were wearing, and got in the car when you spotted Sam pulling up to your place. 

The bar wasn’t too busy, which you were glad about. There were a few groups of people scattered around, but Jess quickly rushed over to an empty booth, and Sam slid in beside her. You took the seat across from them, pulling your jacket off slowly as you glanced around. 

“This is nice.” You said. 

Jess smiled softly.

“Thought you’d like it.”

Sam nodded, giving you a small, reassuring smile.

“Perfect place to drown your sorrows, huh?”

You huffed out a quiet laugh.

“We’ll see… I’m gonna go up and get drinks, what do you guys want?” 

“Just a non-alcoholic beer, please. Someone’s gotta be the designated driver.” Sam smiled, already reaching into his pocket. 

“Do you really need to ask me?” Jess chuckled when you looked at her. 

“Rum and coke?” You raised an eyebrow, and she nodded her head with a little grin. 

“Here,” Sam said as you were about to get up, “First rounds on me.” 

You looked down at his hand, and he was holding out his card. Your heart did a stupid flip, that’s the kinda thing Noah would’ve done...

“Thanks.” You said a little quieter as you took the card from him and made your way up to the bar. 

You ordered your drinks, paid, then took them back to the table, gently placing them all down. 

You sat back down with a sigh, then for a moment the three of you were just quiet. It wasn’t awkward… if anything, it was just careful, you could tell neither of them wanted to say the wrong thing. 

But then Jess leaned her elbow on the table, her chin resting in her hand as she studied you for a moment before she spoke. 

“So,” she said gently, her voice soft. “How was your day?”

You let out a small breath through your nose, your gaze dropping to the table as you thought.

“It was…” you paused, trying to find the right word, but nothing quite fit. “Long.” That was good enough.

“Yeah?” Jess’s eyes softened. 

You shrugged slightly, tiredly. 

“I tried to just… get through it, you know? Focus on work. Pretend everything’s normal.” Your lips pressed together gently. “…But it’s not.”

“Did you have to see him?” Sam asked.

Your stomach flipped.

“Of course she had to see him, Sam, they work together!” Jess scoffed. 

“Not for much longer.” You said quietly, catching their attention. 

“...What?” Jess asked. 

“I made some calls, sent some messages and… I’m interviewing someone tomorrow.”

“But you don’t work on Sundays?” Jess’s eyebrows drew together, but you shook your head. 

“I know, but I don’t care. The sooner he’s out the better.” 

But Sam frowned slightly.

“You really mean that?”

Your eyes darted up to him.

“What?”

“You seriously don’t want to talk to him first? Properly? You’re just getting rid of him before he even has the chance to explain himself?”

Your heart hurt, and you looked back down at the table, your jaw clenching as you tried to hold onto the certainty you’d had earlier… the anger, the clarity, the finality of it.

“I have to.” You said, before lifting your head again. 

“Have to… or you want to?” Jess asked, reaching over the table to take your hand in hers. 

That hit deeper than you expected. Did you really want to?

“I don’t-” you shook your head, exhaling slowly. “I don’t know. But I can’t go back on it now. I can’t just let him explain and then... what? Change my mind? After everything he said? Make up and act like nothing ever happened? Pretend like he didn't just want to get in my pants?”

Sam watched you quietly for a moment, wondering whether saying these words were a bad idea or not… either way, he still said them.

“I can’t believe it’s true.”

Jess’s head snapped toward him immediately.

“Sam!”

But he didn’t look at her, he was looking at you.

“I’ve only met him once,” he continued. “That Halloween party at my place, remember? He came with you, and nobody knew it was his birthday.”

You blinked, your brows pulling together slightly as you tried to follow, though the memories were already making you feel sick. 

“…Yeah. I remember.”

He nodded.

“And even then,” he said, leaning forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table as his fingers wrapped around his bottle, “I remember thinking that this guy’s completely gone for you. Jess had to keep reminding me that you two weren’t a couple.”

Your breath caught, and Jess suddenly went quiet beside you. Sam shrugged like it was nothing, but there was nothing casual about what he was saying.

“I mean it,” he added. “The way he looked at you, the way he hovered around you the entire night, the way he paid attention to everything you said…” He shook his head slightly. “That’s not a guy who’s just trying to get into your pants. Trust me- I’m a guy.”

Your heart suddenly ached with every beat in your chest, and your vision began to blur from the tears in your eyes. 

“But… I don't get it if he said it was true.” You whispered.

“I know,” Sam said gently. “I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m just saying… it doesn’t line up with what I saw. What we all saw.”

That was it. That was all it took.

Because you’d been holding it in all day, forcing yourself to stay strong, to stay angry, to stay certain. But you wouldn’t last much longer. 

“Oh my god-” you choked out, your hand coming up to your face as your shoulders started to shake.

Jess climbed over Sam, and was beside you instantly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay-”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you cried, your voice breaking. “I don’t know if I’m being stupid or if I’m just ignoring something obvious or-”

Jess pulled you into her side again, her arms wrapping around you tightly.

“You’re not stupid,” she said firmly, her hand cradling the back of your head. “You’re just hurting. You're dealing with so much right now... I wish I knew how to help you better.”

…

Noah’s house didn’t feel like home to him anymore. 

It felt like something was missing. It felt colder than it ever had. It felt lonely. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, his hands pressed hard against his face. The room was quiet- no music playing, no background noise, nothing to distract him from the way his thoughts kept circling and looping and haunting him.

He almost felt sick. Like something was sitting there in his chest, lodged deep, refusing to move no matter how hard he tried to breathe through it.

He dragged his hands down slowly, his palms rubbing over his face before falling uselessly into his lap. He looked to his side, he had opened the overnight bag you kept at his place, the one you used to bring your things over in all those weeks- possibly months- ago. Then he looked around his room, and god it was almost like you had moved in. 

You were everywhere. 

Hair ties and random jewellery on his bedside table, your jacket draped over the back of his chair, the pile of dirty clothes on the floor that he said he’d wash for you the morning of the day this all kicked off. 

He stared at everything for a moment, almost afraid to move. But he knew he had to. He told you he would give you your things back. 

He pushed himself up slowly, then he began. He reached for the nearest thing, which happened to be the hair tie. It was such a small thing. Insignificant, really. Something you probably didn’t even think twice about leaving behind.

But he picked it up carefully, turning it between his fingers.

He remembered you standing in front of the mirror, tying your hair up absentmindedly while talking to him about something- he couldn’t even remember what anymore. Something normal. Something that didn’t hurt.

He swallowed hard as he placed it into the bag before forcing himself to move again.

The jacket came next. He hesitated before picking it up because it still smelled like you. It was very faint, but it was there. His grip tightened around the fabric as he brought it closer for just a second, his eyes closing briefly before he caught himself.

“Don’t.” He whispered, like he was telling himself off. Like he didn’t deserve that.

He exhaled shakily and folded it instead, more carefully than he needed to, before placing it into the bag.

Piece by piece, item by item, he moved through the bedroom packing your things. Your charger, your pajama top, the little bottle of conditioner you’d left in his bathroom because you refused to use his 5-in-1. 

He let out a quiet, broken huff of a laugh at that, his smile turning into a frown as he tried not to cry again, because it hurt. Because there was no one there to laugh with him. No one to roll their eyes, to call him an idiot. It was just quiet… and he hated it. 

…

The next morning, the sky was grey and the rain was pouring, tapping against the windshield of Noah’s car, blurring the view of your street. 

Your bag was sitting on the passenger seat, and he glanced over at it, then back at your house. The lights were all off, and your car wasn’t there… he guessed you weren’t in. He swallowed as he reached for his phone, hesitating for a moment on your contact before he pressed call. 

However, the call didn’t even go through. It rang once, then cut off. 

He frowned slightly as he pulled the phone away to check the screen, like maybe he’d accidentally done something. But he hadn’t, because he tried again… and the same thing happened. 

He felt his chest tighten as he realised what this meant. He wasn’t angry, and he certainly wasn’t surprised. It just hit him for some reason. 

You’d blocked him. 

He let out a soft breath through his nose, his head tipping back against the seat for a moment as the rain started to fall harder, the sound of it growing louder. 

Then he moved, he reached over to grab your bag before pushing open the car door and stepping out into the rain. He couldn’t believe how quick it soaked through his hoodie in the short walk up to your front door. 

He knocked once… then again… but there was still no answer. He waited for a moment, he glanced at the windows, but he couldn’t see any movement. Clearly you weren’t in. 

He couldn’t leave your bag out in the rain, he couldn’t let your things get soaked- but then he remembered. He still had your house key. 

He slipped his hand into his pocket and slowly pulled it out, it was attached to his house key and the spare he had for Folio’s from when his parents would let the band practice in their basement. He stared at your key for a moment, realising this was the last thing, the last piece of you he still had, aside from-

He swallowed, cutting that thought off before it could go any further. 

He stepped forward again and slid the key into the lock, twisting it, then he hesitated for a moment before pushing it open. But when he did, the warmth hit him. Then the silence followed. 

Your house had never been so quiet. 

He slowly stepped inside, careful not to drip everywhere as he closed the door behind him gently. Your home still smelled the same. It still smelled like you. It still made his heart flutter in a way he shouldn’t let it anymore. 

Just put the bag down, hang the key up, and leave. He told himself… but he couldn’t help but linger in the hallway, just standing there for a moment, wondering if this was the last time he’d ever step foot in your house. 

He could still remember the first time he came over, the night he picked you up when you were out with your friends, when you were drunk and wanted to go home but didn’t want to leave alone. He could still remember walking through the door, taking it all in for the first time, and getting lost on the way to your bathroom. 

He crouched slightly by the kitchen door, setting the bag down gently by the wall, making sure it wouldn’t tip over. Then he straightened back up, but he didn’t leave straight away. 

He just looked around the house. Nothing was different, but everything felt different. Maybe it was because you weren’t here? Maybe it was because he wasn’t supposed to be here?

His gaze landed on the kitchen counter, and he slowly stepped over to it without really thinking. He then reached into his pocket, pulling the key out again, taking it off the keyring.

He looked at it for a long moment, turning it in his fingers, remembering the way you handed it to him one day, so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“In case you ever need it.”

He swallowed hard before gently setting it down on the counter, taking one last look around at everything…

And the memories suddenly came back all at once. You leaning against the counter as you watched him cook, making fun of something he said, or playfully arguing with him over something. The way you giggled between kisses when he was trying to shut you up, his hands on your hips as he pressed you against the counter. The way you looked at him with hearts in your eyes without even realising it... he never thought it'd come to this.

But this was it. There wasn’t anything left to hold onto now. You didn’t want him here. Didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to know him anymore.

So he turned around and walked back over to the door, and reached for the handle to pull it open slowly… 

The rain was still falling as he stepped out, but he didn’t care any more. He pulled your door shut behind him and didn’t look back.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

this is actually half of what the original chapter was as i decided to split it in two, it made sense so there wasn't soo much going on, i feel like it paces the story a little better :) however, that does mean that the next chapter is already written, and it's a very intense one 🫣

He had texted you a week ago out of the blue: home soon, wanna hang out??

It wasn’t unusual for the text chain between the two of you to go quiet when he was on tour—you understood how demanding that kind of schedule could be, how easy it was to get caught up in the there and now when your life was chaos. You made sure you never complained about it once, more than content to send memes or good wishes into the void until Folio remembered he had a phone and that he should check it. When you’d received the text asking if you wanted to hang out, you’d made yourself sit on your hands for nearly thirty minutes before sending off a quick yeah, let’s do it to make sure you didn’t seem too eager.

Which, in hindsight, was funny as hell when he had sent back 😎🤘 immediately. 

Now here the two of you were, standing in front of the closed parking lot gate for Sugarloaf Mountain, Folio fiddling with the headlamp he’d brought because the sun was already starting to set on the horizon and it wouldn’t be long before he was taking you into the woods and hiking in the dark. Some part of your brain tries to supply that this is absolutely how horror movies start, and you’re about ready to suggest that maybe the two of you wait until tomorrow when the sun’s up before those stupid brown eyes of his find yours and he grins.

God. You’d do anything for that grin. 

Including, apparently, hiking up a mountain in the dark.

“Are you positive we have to do this at night?” You ask, hands falling away from the elastic strap at Folio’s head so you can cross your arms over your chest.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet on me!” Folio teases, hands starting to smack the pockets of his jeans like he’s searching for something. 

“I’m not getting cold feet. I’m just… being realistic. What if there are bears out there?” 

The snort he gives in response to your question has pink rising to your cheeks. 

“If you’re gonna worry about anything, I’d worry about bobcats,” is all he says, content with the self-pat down he’d given himself and already turning to slide through the gap that exists between the parking gate and the wooden fence surrounding the parking lot. 

All you can do is stand there in the aftermath, mouth slightly parted, before your body gets the memo and starts following after him. “Wait—what? Nick. Are you being serious right now?” He continues walking, oblivious—or flat out ignoring—your question. “Nick. Folio!” From ahead, you hear the sound of his laughter, fully pleased with himself as he forges on while you nearly trip over your own feet to catch up to him.

Oranges and purples paint the sky above you as the sun dips closer and closer to the horizon, late evening light dappling through the canopy of leaves overhead and painting the ground at your feet in a hatchwork pattern against the packed dirt. As the two of you walk, you listen to Folio’s voice as he recounts the highlights of the band’s most recent tour: Noah chugging a container of hot sauce because Matt called him a pussy if he didn’t, Jolly tricking crew into trying salted black licorice because he derives joy from watching others suffer, and how he himself played half a set in Wichita with his knuckles split open because he’d broken a drumstick and it kicked back on him.

You like hearing about the part of his life that you don’t get to witness that often. You’ve met the rest of the guys in the band when they’ve come through close enough to Maryland that you were able to drive to a show—they’re good people, and you trust them to watch out for Nick because he doesn’t always remember to watch out for himself. Not because he’s incapable, but because he’d rather put someone else’s needs before his own. That’s one thing that you’ve always liked about him: just how deeply he cares about the people around him, even if they may not realize it—too thrown by his chaotic energy. 

But you know the sweetheart that lurks underneath.

You’ve watched him try and be statue-still in your backyard, handful of nuts extended and at the ready, all because a squirrel happened to hop a foot closer than usual and he’s ready to try and befriend them. You also remember the sheer joy that had taken over his face the first time that same squirrel—well, Folio said it was, but you aren’t sure about that—took a peanut from his hand and then ran clear across the yard to eat it. “Did you see that!” Folio had gasped, eyes wide and bright as they looked at you. “We’re totally buds now.”

“Hey, do you mind if I—?” Nick’s voice cuts and forces your mind to quit wandering and come back to the present. 

You look up just in time to catch him pantomiming smoking, and your shoulders lift upwards in a shrug. 

“Go for it. We’re out in nature, aren’t we?”

“Well, yeah. But I still wanted to check.” 

The smile he tosses in your direction is sheepish, but his hands are already moving to dig into his pocket to pull out a metal tin that you immediately clock as the Harley Davidson cigarette case you’d gifted him for his birthday last year. There’s something about seeing the gift—that he uses it—that has a small smile of your own curling at the corners of your lips as the two of you continue down the hiking trail. Purples and oranges have given way to the darker navy that slides in right before full sunset, warning the two of you that it won’t be long now.

“How much further?” You can’t help but ask after he finishes another one of his stories: this one about how Noah left him behind at a gas station because he’d been the last one to use the bathroom and, somehow, no one thought to check for him before leaving. 

Folio’s head swivels in your direction at the question and for a moment, you find yourself staring into the Eye of Sauron as the headlamp flash bangs directly into your eyeballs. 

“Oh my god—” Your hand is already reaching up to shield your face.

“Oh, fuck! Shit—fuck, sorry!” 

Lights dance across your vision as you pause, unwilling to walk further when you can’t see and do something stupid like tripping over a root. You press the heels of your hands against your eyes, rubbing like that’s going to help. Just a few feet in front of you, you can hear the sound of Folio fidgeting, soft curses spilling out of him as he works on angling the light up and away from your face so that he can step in and make sure you’re okay. Hands find your shoulders to keep you steady, and the familiar skunky smell of weed drifts in as Folio gets close.

He’s always like this when he smokes; the usual concern he has gets cranked up to an eleven, anxiety creeping in around the edges even if it isn’t warranted.

“You good?” Warm hands move from your shoulders up to your face, rough palms cradling your cheeks as he looks you over himself like he’ll be able to evaluate you before you can answer.

You have no idea how close the two of you are until you drop your hands and blink your eyes open. Despite the white orbs that still dance across your vision with every blink, what takes up a majority of your vision now is the concerned face of your friend whose expression is currently making him look like a golden retriever who’s been scolded. Regardless of how much you’d like to blame the flush rising up to your cheeks on anything else—the cold, the weed, anything—you know it stems purely from your proximity to the man standing in front of you.

“M’fine,” you grumble, reaching up to rub at one of your eyes again because it’s easier to distract yourself than acknowledge the traitorous band of butterflies that’s been unleashed inside your stomach. You’d swear the metaphor is real, given the way your insides feel, and Folio isn’t helping matters as he sweeps his thumbs just beneath your cheekbones. 

“Really, it’s okay.” 

“I still feel like a dick. I forgot this thing was on my head.”

Even in the darkness you can see the furrow between his brows and the way his mouth pulls down into a frown that tells you he’s going to be beating himself up about this for hours. Sighing softly, you simply reach your hands up and place them on top of his, fingers curling underneath and taking hold so you can finally lower Folio’s hands away from your face. Still holding onto them as they rest in the space between you, your fingers give a gentle squeeze to his.

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna kick your feet out from under you when you least expect for payback.”

That’s enough to have a bark of laughter escaping out of him—entirely too loud for the quiet of the forest around you. Despite yourself, you feel your own laughter coming, Nick’s apparently too infectious for you to escape unscathed. 

From that point on, the two of you keep walking hand-in-hand. With the headlamp corrected and pointing down to illuminate the ground once more, time starts to lose meaning with each additional foot between yourselves and the parking lot you’d left behind down at the base of Sugarloaf. All you know is that every time you ask Nick any variation of ‘are we close’ he just chuckles to himself, squeezes your hand, and tells you to be patient.

When you finally get to your destination you understand why he didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

Standing on a rocky outcropping that breaks through the thick treeline, the rest of the forest stretches out beneath you: trees nothing more than dark silhouettes against the sky. That, however, isn’t what Nick had brought you out here for, because the moment you tip your head back to look at the expanse of night sky above your heads, you know what the real view was all along. 

Above your heads, stars shine like glitter thrown against a black backdrop, while beside you, Folio is working to turn the headlamp off so you can have the full effect. The moon is full and high in the sky, shining like Nick himself had put it there deliberately just for you—like he’d convinced the Goddess Selene herself to momentarily halt her chariot just so the two of them could have the best view of the moon in all its glory. 

“Oh, wow,” is all you can say, and you can’t help but be annoyed at yourself for not having anything else.

Folio, however, is unbothered.

“Pretty nice, huh?” 

His hand still hasn’t left yours the entire time the two of you have stood there staring up at the sky. Swallowing thickly, you nod—for all the good that will do you, it’s dark as hell and he likely can’t see it—before you feel him gently pulling you forward and then sitting himself down on the rock and giving you a tug to encourage you to sit beside him. You can feel the cold of the stone seeping into your skin through the denim of your jeans as you adjust to get comfortable, yet can’t bring yourself to care that it’s slightly uncomfortable. 

Folio’s hands work at his pockets once more, pulling out the familiar cigarette case in addition to a small flask that he’s apparently been carrying with him as well. Both items are set down on the rock between the two of you, and for a moment, silence lingers; not uncomfortable but noticeable. 

“Hey, uh—” he starts, expression twisting with frustration at the clumsy start, “I just… wanted to say that I’m sorry we don’t hang out as much as we used to. Life’s just been so crazy—” 

“Don’t,” you carefully reply, stopping his apology in its tracks. “Don’t do that. You don’t have to apologize. I understand.” 

Silence once more, somehow loud despite having nothing to say.

“You’re living your dream, and I’m proud of you for that,” you continue, because you don’t want him to get the wrong idea. “I’m so proud of you. And, I know it isn’t easy. You’re gonna have people in your life that don’t understand. I’m… I’m not one of them.” Shifting to sit up straighter, your hand carefully searches for his in the space between you, fingers lacing together once you find it. “I’m just grateful for the time we do get together.”

For a moment, he’s quiet: unnervingly, uncharacteristically so, to the point you start to second guess yourself.

Then, he laughs—this quiet, uncertain sound—and he leans into your space to rest his head against your shoulder. When he speaks next, his voice is quiet.

“Wanna get high as fuck, sneak some whiskey, and stare at the stars for a bit?”

・┈・୨୧・┈・

You didn’t sleep with Noah that night, nor did you stay at his place. At around 4am, after more drinks and far too many kisses, he called you a cab, but insisted on coming with you, because “a pretty girl shouldn’t be going home by herself this late.”

He walked you right up to your door, his hands tucked into his pockets like he was trying not to reach for you again, even though you both knew he wanted to. When you finally got the door open, after fumbling with your keys, you stepped in and turned back to him.

“I had a great time tonight… thank you.”

“Of course,” he said softly, “Thank you for coming.”

You couldn’t help but smile, laughing softly under your breath. Then he leaned back in again, just for one more kiss. This one was soft and slow, his hand gently placed on your waist, but then he pulled back. For a moment, his forehead hovered close to yours, like he was debating whether to stay… but then he let out a soft exhale and stepped back.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” You said back, before watching him walk away.

When he had disappeared down the stairs, you finally closed the door, leaning back against it for a second, your heart still racing.

Holy shit.

…

Sunday felt like a blur. You liked to make the most of your days off, but you barely left your bed. Your phone never left your hand.

You texted Noah the entire day, talking about nothing and everything- his work, your job, music, random questions that came to your head. Talking to him just felt easy, and he never let the conversation die. He even told you the name of his band at last! Bad Omens. And after a quick google search and a look through their spotify, you completely understood why Noah was the way he was.

But now it was Monday again, and thanks to him you were running on very little sleep, and entirely too many thoughts.

You managed to drag yourself out of bed to get ready, and when you finally checked your phone, there was already a message waiting for you.

Noah: Good morning, hope you slept well

Noah: You working today?

Silly question, he knew exactly what shifts you worked.

You: Morning! And yep, another full day 🥲

Noah: Life sucks huh

Noah: Send me your bank account details, I’ll make sure there’s something in there for when you finish your shift. Treat yourself <3

Noah: And don’t even think about saying no. You agreed to this the other night.

You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up a little as you typed your account number and other details in for him.

You: There :)

Noah: Thanks baby. Now have a good day at work, I’m in the studio all day but I’ll come see you if I can. But text me on your break, okay?

God, he made your tummy feel fuzzy. He made your head spin.

You: Pet names already? Someone’s bold

You sent with a smirk on your face.

You: But of course I will :)

…

Fuck, you caught yourself thinking about him the entire way to work, and that’s when you told yourself to get a grip! Tom opened up this morning, so you pushed through the door, put away your stuff in the back room and tied your apron on as you walked behind the counter, trying to act normal.

But how the fuck can you ever be normal again after Saturday night?

“Morning!” Tom beamed as he stepped back behind the counter, “How was your date?”

Tom only knew Noah asked you out, you didn’t tell him the date already happened? Did you?

“What date?” You asked, your brows drawing together as you leaned against the counter.

“Seriously?” Tom scoffed, “The one you sent me all the voice notes about! He’s so hot! He’s such a gentleman! He’s such a good kisser!”

“Oh, I-”

“Did you fuck him?”

“TOM!!”

“Hey, I’m just asking! It’s been a while since you’ve looked this… glowy?”

You laughed as you started setting out some more straws and cup holders.

“No, we didn’t have sex. We might’ve made out a few times… and dry humped.”

“On the first date?!” Tom scoffed again, “You told me he was a gentleman!”

“He is!” You couldn’t help but grin when you talked about him, “Now, enough about my sex life. It’s opening time.”

Tom smirked, giving you a look as if to say okay, but I’m not letting this go, as he flipped the sign on the door from CLOSED to OPEN.

…

It was hard to stay distracted when your day was going so slow. You wanted to throw yourself into work, taking orders, making drinks, shouting out names- anything to keep your mind occupied and your hands busy…

But you were still staring at the door, waiting for him to come in. He said he was in the studio all day, but you were hoping he’d still get the chance to come in for a coffee- even if it was just a quick in and out, you’d just love to see him. Tom noticed the way your eyes darted to the door every time it opened, but he didn’t say anything this time. No teasing, no comments, he just kept giving you a look, like he was thinking- or collecting evidence.

Despite your day being slow, your lunch break went far too fast. You texted Noah back, let him know how boring your day was going so far… but you didn’t hear back from him before it was time to get back to work, and you tried not to show how it made you a little disappointed.

However, the moment you stepped back behind the counter, tied your apron and washed your hands… the door opened.

Slowly, you turned around, and there he was. Noah stepped inside like he always did, calm, casual and confident- but the moment his eyes found you, his face softened.

And fuck, your face betrayed you immediately. A big wide grin spread before you could stop it, and Tom saw it. He was in the middle of making someone’s matcha when he glanced sideways at you, noticing the way you tried to keep your composure, the way you cleared your throat as you stepped up to the register, like you were trying to pretend this was just any other customer.

“Hi.” You said, a little too bright.

Noah’s lips twitched like he was trying not to smile just as much.

“Hey.” He said, his voice low and calm like normal. Like you didn’t spend hours of your Saturday night in his lap.

“The usual?” You asked, and he nodded his head.

“Please.”

You smiled, tapping it into the till, but you couldn’t help but feel so aware of him. How close he was to the counter, the way his rings tapped softly against it, the scent of his cologne…

You turned the card reader around for him, and he reached into his pocket for his wallet.

“So…” he said as he tapped his card, “Do you have a passport?”

Huh?

“...What?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he said it so casually.

“Do you have a passport?” He repeated, his eyes meeting yours with a small smile, “Preferably not an expired one.”

You let out a soft chuckle as you took the card reader back.

“Uh… yeah, I think so. It should have a few years left on it.”

“Good.”

You stared at him, frowning a little.

“Why are you asking?”

He just shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Just wondering.”

But you narrowed your eyes on him.

“Noah…”

“Hm?”

“I’m not making your coffee until you tell me why you’re asking.”

Tom was doing a very bad job at pretending he wasn’t listening in on the two of you while he stacked the takeaway cups. Noah noticed him, he glanced at him for a moment before turning his attention back to you, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Are you free this weekend?”

Your stomach flipped.

“...I think so?” You said, cautiously. “But I’m not agreeing to anything until you tell me what’s happening.”

He let out a soft exhale like he was trying to decide how much he should say right here right now.

“I think you need a break,” he said, “I want to take you somewhere nice. Somewhere warm if you want, somewhere where you don’t have to worry or stress about anything, we can just relax, take a couple days to just… be you. Not the barista, not the babysitter. Just you.”

You swallowed hard, your heart beating stupidly fast in your chest. Because that’d be nice… but that’s just so soon.

“I…”

“You can say no if you want,” Noah said gently, “I just thought it’d do you good.”

“Uh…” you glanced at the small line of customers waiting behind him, “Can I call you when I finish? We could talk about it then?”

“Of course.” Noah smiled, with a little nod. “Doesn’t even have to be this weekend, just let me know when you wanna go and I’ll sort it.”

You tried to ignore the way your stomach fluttered as you turned around to make his drink…

You’d love a break. A different city, time to breathe, a couple days where you don’t feel like you’re in survival mode… but saying yes to something like that felt just as terrifying as it did exciting.

You worked on autopilot as you made his coffee, measuring, steaming, pouring… things you’ve done thousands of times, but your mind was nowhere near it. It was somewhere else.

Somewhere warm, somewhere peaceful. Somewhere that didn’t look like your tiny cluttered apartment or this cafe or the same four streets you walked every single day.

You handed the cup over to him, your fingers brushing his for a second as he reached out for it.

“Enjoy.”

“Thanks.” He said softly, but neither of you moved straight away.

There was this pause between you, like you were both thinking, you both wanted to say something but neither of you made the first move. The world around you kept going- Tom was calling out names and orders, customers were chatting- but right here at the counter, it was just the two of you.

Until you finally broke the quiet.

“I’ll text you later.” You said quietly.

“I’ll be waiting.” Noah said with a nod.

Oh your stomach flipped again…

He gave you one last small smile before stepping aside, letting the next customer move forward, but he didn’t leave straight away. He lingered off to the side, taking a sip of his coffee, checking his phone, like he always did… but this time his attention kept drifting back to you.

You could feel it. He stayed for a couple more minutes, and each time you glanced up, he was already looking. Again, Tom definitely noticed. But again, he didn’t say anything. Not while Noah was still there… but the second the door closed behind him-

“Oh my god.”

You groaned immediately.

“Tom-”

“A weekend away?” He whisper-shouted, leaning across the counter, his eyes wide, “A mysterious weekend away?”

You tried to play it cool, wiping down the counter even though it was already clean.

“It’s not-”

“He asked about your passport.”

“So?!”

“That means international, babe!”

You bit back a smile.

“Lower your voice.”

“No,” Tom shook his head, pointing at you, “You don’t get to act chill about this. This is insane!! A hot, rich man that you spent your Saturday night humping wants to fly you somewhere warm for the weekend and you’re just like ‘hmm I’ll think about it.’”

You laughed under your breath.

“I didn’t say no.”

“But you didn’t say yes either.”

You shrugged, but it wasn’t convincing.

“I just… want to think about it.”

Tom stared at you for a second, then his expression softened slightly.

“…Are you scared?” He asked, quieter this time.

You paused… because that was the thing. You weren’t scared in the way you expected to be, you weren’t scared in the way you would be if you weren’t so attracted to Noah, you weren’t afraid of something going wrong…

You were thinking what if it goes right? What if it goes too well? What if I get too attached?

“I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down at the counter, “It’s just a lot.”

“Yeah,” Tom nodded slowly, “But you’ve also been working yourself to death for months.”

You didn’t respond to that, because he wasn’t wrong. You both knew it.

“You deserve something good.” He added, nudging your arm with his. Then you exhaled slowly, nodding your head.

“I know.”

“And also,” he continued, his tone shifting back to something more playful, “If he turns out to be a serial killer, at least he’s a hot one.”

“Tom!”

“I’m kidding!! Kinda.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself, but your mind was already drifting again.

Back to Noah. Back to the offer…

Somewhere warm… somewhere where you don’t have to worry…

…

The rest of your shift dragged, just like you knew it would. Every hour felt longer than the last, and by the time you finally untied your apron and stepped outside, the sky was already getting dark.

You glanced down at your phone after you locked up, to see a message from Noah, sent three minutes ago.

Noah: Finished yet?

Your lips curved into a little grin.

You: Yep, just left.

His reply came almost immediately.

Noah: Call me?

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t even hesitate. You pressed call and held your phone up to your ear as you started walking.

“Hey.” He answered almost immediately, and his voice sounded almost softer over the phone.

“Hi.” You smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear as you walked down the street, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

“How was the rest of your shift?”

“The whole day's just been so slow and boring,” you admitted, “But I kept thinking about… what you said.”

There was a small pause on his end.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You slowed your steps slightly, your voice quieter now. “You’re really serious about it?”

“Completely.” He said with no hesitation, “Like I told you on Saturday night, I want to show you what life should be like.”

You swallowed hard.

“…Where would we even go?”

You could hear him chuckle under his breath.

“I’ve got a few ideas.”

“That doesn’t answer my-”

“I know. But you trust me, right?”

The question caught you off guard. You’ve only known this guy for… a month maybe?

“…I think I do.” You said honestly.

There was a small pause on his end, until-

“Then let me prove myself to you, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

You nodded your head, forgetting he couldn’t see.

“You don’t have to decide right this second,” he added, softer now, “But if you say yes… I promise you’ll have a good time.”

You closed your eyes for a second, letting that settle as you paused.

You’ve been dreaming of a break, a real one, for years. No stress, no shifts, no babysitting for neighbours. No counting coins in your head every time you buy something.

Just living. Enjoying life.

“…Okay.” You finally said.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, a little smile creeping onto your lips, he could hear it in your voice, “I’d like to get away for a few days.”

And you could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“Good.”

You shook your head slightly, already feeling the excitement bubbling up under your skin.

“This is crazy.”

“Maybe,” he said, “But you need this.”

Yeah, you couldn’t argue with that.

“…What do I need to do?”

“Nothing,” he replied easily, “Just tell me if you need anything before we go.”

You hesitated for a second.

“…Like what?”

“Oh, y’know. Clothes, fresh hair, new nails, bigger suitcase- whatever you want.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head again.

“You’re actually serious.”

“Always.”

You bit your lip, smiling to yourself as you started walking again.

“Then I guess it looks like we’re going away this weekend.” You said, not even bothering to hide your grin anymore.

“I’m already looking forward to it,” Noah said, and you swear you can hear the smile in his voice, “Also… are you walking home?”

“...Yeah.”

“Check your bank account, baby.”

Again with the names!!

But you did anyway, putting him on speaker before tapping onto your banking app-

Holy shit. That was a lot more money than you had this morning…

You tapped on transactions, and your heart stopped for a second.

Received: $500 from N DAVIS

“...Noah-”

“Shh,” he hushed you, “I’m about to hang up, and when I do, you better get yourself a cab. I’m not having my girl walk around the city in the dark.”

My girl, huh? Okay…

You didn’t know what to say to that, your mouth hung open, then he hung up before you even got the chance to say anything…

Well, you could get used to this…

…

It was now Thursday, and the thought of the weekend was the only thing getting you through your shifts at work. You woke up early this morning, took a shower, and while you were getting dressed you heard your phone buzz.

Noah: What time do you finish today?

You quickly typed your reply.

You: 7 again 🥲

You: Why?

You expected Noah to reply right away, but you stood there half dressed, your phone in your hands, waiting for him… and just as you were about to put it back down, he answered.

Noah: Call in sick

You actually scoffed out loud, shaking your head.

You: I’m literally fine Noah

Noah: Then fake it. You’ve got a headache, the flu, whatever.

You tried to stop the smile that was already tugging at your lips, but you couldn’t.

You: You want me to lie to my boss?

Noah: I want to steal you for the weekend a little early

You felt your tummy flutter, and you had to bite your lip. It wasn’t a bad idea, you never call in sick, so surely it’d be believable…

You: You’re such a bad influence

Noah: Good. Live a little

You laughed at that, and you hesitated for just a moment before typing…

You: Fine. But if I get into trouble you’re taking the blame

Noah: I know ;)

You let out a little laugh as you tossed your phone onto your bed. Were you really going to do this?

You caught your reflection in the mirror, there was a smile on your face that you couldn’t quite hide even if you tried, you were still half dressed and your hair was still a little damp. You finished getting ready for work anyway, but you couldn't stop thinking about him. He made it seem so easy, just call in sick… it’s like his life didn’t revolve around schedules and shifts and consequences that way yours always had.

…

Much to Noah’s disappointment, you got to work, and you made it through the morning somehow. Tom was already there when you walked in, mid conversation with a regular, but the second he saw you, his expression changed. His eyes narrowed on you a little, like he could already tell something was up.

“You’re smiling…” He said immediately as you stepped behind the counter.

“I’m always smiling!” You shot back with an exaggerated grin as you tied your apron around your waist.

“Mhm, but that’s not your normal smile. You look too happy.” He said, “So what did lover boy say this morning?”

Your stomach flipped at that, but you kept your back to him, focusing very hard on lining up lids.

“Nothing important.”

“Bullshit.”

You bit back a smile.

“Tom-”

“Did he text you good morning?” He cut in, leaning on the counter, “Because if he didn’t then-.”

“He did.” You said before you could stop yourself.

“AHA!!”

You groaned, turning to face him.

“Can you not make this a big thing?”

“But it is a big thing,” he said, lowering his voice slightly but still clearly too invested, “You’ve been glowing for four days straight. I deserve all the details.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your phone buzzed in your apron pocket. You pulled it out, expecting it to be an email or Riley asking if you could swap shifts next week- but it was Noah.

Noah: You done it yet?

Your lips pressed together, trying to suppress the grin that appeared the second you saw his name.

You: Not yet

You: I’m at work like a responsible adult :)

There was barely even a pause before he replied.

Noah: Boring

Noah: Go tell Tom you’re dying or something

You let out a quiet laugh under your breath.

“What?” Tom asked, his eyes narrowing again.

“Nothing!” You said quickly, already typing.

You: What’s the plan if I do?

Noah: I’ll pick you up

Noah: We’re going shopping

Noah: Then we’re leaving tonight

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stared at the messages for a moment longer than you meant to. You weren’t hesitating, you were just trying to take it all in.

“...Tom?”

“Wassup?”

You hesitated, then leaned in slightly across the counter, lowering your voice.

“So… hypothetically, let’s say I felt really unwell” you started, “...you’d back me up, right?”

His eyes widened instantly.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, you could see in his eyes he was delighted. “You’re doing this for him?!”

“I’m not saying that-”

“You are,” he cut in, “You’re calling in sick for a man. I’ve never been more proud!”

“Lower your voice!”

“I will not,” he grinned, “So what does he want from you? A blowjob?”

You tried to stay serious, but it was impossible.

“…He wants to take me away early.” You said quietly.

“Ohh the mysterious trip!! Where are you going?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW-”

“Tom,” you hissed, glancing around at the customers, “Keep it down!”

He leaned in closer, eyes wide with disbelief.

“You’re telling me this man- this mysterious, hot, rich man- wants to kidnap you early for a weekend away, he hasn’t even told you where but you’re just… going along with it?”

You bit your lip.

“…Yeah. Guess I am.”

“Oh I love this for you!!”

You laughed, shaking your head, but your heart was already racing.

Because suddenly it felt real now, it wasn’t just an idea anymore. It wasn’t just a joke anymore. This was actually happening.

…

It took you another ten minutes to build up the courage. Ten minutes of pacing behind the counter, pretending to wipe things down, pretending to restock, while your mind ran in circles.

You never did this. You never took a sick day unless you were actually dying. But then again… you never had anyone like Noah before.

Finally, you grabbed your phone, stepping into the back room. Tom gave you a thumbs up as you passed him.

“Go on,” he whispered. “Fake your little illness.”

You flipped him off, but you were smiling.

The call with your boss felt waay longer than it actually was. You grumbled a few complaints about a headache in a scratchy voice that you exaggerated just enough…

And then, to your complete surprise, he believed you.

“Okay, I’ll call Emily in to cover for you. Feel better soon. See you Monday.”

You stared at your phone after the call ended, a wide smile slowly spreading across your face.

Holy shit. You actually did it.

You walked back out slowly, and Tom looked at you expectantly.

“Well?”

“…I’m off.”

“No way.” He gasped as if you had just announced an engagement. You nodded your head, still a little stunned.

“Yes way.”

“Okay, go!” He waved you off dramatically, “Go be irresponsible! Go live your rich girl fantasy!”

You laughed, grabbing your bag.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” he called after you, “Text me when you’re on a private jet!”

You shook your head, but your smile didn’t fade the entire way out.

…

You sent Noah a text just after the call ended, and the second you stepped outside, your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Noah: Good girl

Noah: I’m five minutes away

Your breath caught slightly, your stomach fluttering as you read the first message in his voice over and over and over-

You glanced up and down the street instinctively, like he might already be there. But then you started typing again.

You: You’ve been waiting for me to say that, haven’t you

Noah: Maybe ;)

Your heart was beating a little too fast now.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, stepping further out onto the pavement… and then you saw his car turning the corner. He was right on time.

He pulled up smoothly in front of you, and before you could even process it, he reached over and opened the passenger door for you, like he knew you wouldn’t hesitate.

And god, he was right.

You tried to play it cool as you stepped closer, but the second you leaned down and caught sight of him in the driver’s seat- hair a little damp like he’d just showered, one hand resting casually on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh- your stomach flipped again.

“Hi.” You said, a little breathless despite yourself as you climbed in.

“Hey,” Noah replied, glancing over at you, his eyes softening almost instantly. “That was quick.”

You shut the door, pulling your seatbelt across your chest.

“I’m very convincing when I want to be.” You said with a little smile.

He huffed a quiet laugh, shifting the car into gear.

“I’m impressed.”

“You should be,” you teased, glancing over at him, “I never do that.”

“I know.” He said simply, like it mattered to him that you’d done it anyway, like he appreciated it, and for a moment that thought just lingered…

The car pulled away from the curb, merging back into traffic smoothly, and you found yourself stealing little glances at him again, the way his jaw tightened slightly when he focused on the road, the rings on his fingers catching the light as he gripped the wheel, the way he made even the most simplest things look hot as fuck-

“So,” you said after a moment, turning to face him slightly in your seat, “What’s the plan then?”

“First,” he began, glancing over at you for a second, “We go back to yours.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow.

“So you can get changed,” he added like it was obvious. “You’re not going out in your work clothes.”

You looked down at yourself, sure the apron was gone, but you were still very much dressed for a shift rather than… whatever this was?

“Rude.” You teased.

“I prefer honest.” He corrected, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

“And then? What do you mean by going out?” You pressed.

“We’re going shopping,” he said. “You pick out whatever you want, anything you’ll need for the weekend.”

Your stomach fluttered again.

“Anything?”

“Mhm.”

You shook your head slightly, still not entirely used to the way he said things like that so casually.

“…Okay, but like, what am I actually shopping for?” You asked, “Because I feel like that’s kind of important information. Are we going somewhere hot? Cold? Do I need to dress fancy? Or for the beach?”

He hummed softly, like he was thinking about it.

“Well,” he started, “We’ll probably do a couple of nice dinners, so something for that.”

“Okay…”

“Something comfortable for walking around,” he continued. “Sightseeing, maybe even a bit of shopping while we’re there…”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“While we’re there?”

He ignored that for now, continuing like he hadn’t just said something very suspicious.

“Maybe something a little cooler too,” he added. “It’ll be warmer there than it is here.”

You stared at him.

“…Noah.”

“Hm?”

“Where are we going?”

He glanced at you again, clearly amused by the way you were narrowing your eyes at him.

“You ever seen the Eiffel Tower before?”

There was a pause- a very quiet, very still moment where your brain was trying to catch up with what he had just said.

“...What?”

He smiled, a proper smile this time, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“You heard me.”

Your mouth fell open slightly.

“…Noah.”

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to Paris?!” You practically gasped it, your hands flying up in disbelief as you turned fully toward him in your seat. He laughed, glancing at you for a moment again before looking back at the road.

“Yeah,” he said, like it was no big deal. “We’re going to Paris.”

“Oh my god,” you breathed, leaning back against your seat, your heart racing now for a completely different reason. “Oh my god?!”

You covered your mouth with your hand again, laughing under your breath like you couldn’t quite believe it.

“You’re serious?”

“Completely.”

“This isn’t a joke?”

“Nope.”

You shook your head, staring out the window for a second like the city around you suddenly felt too small, too boring.

“Paris…” You repeated softly.

“Paris.” He confirmed.

A big grin spread across your face, wide and completely uncontrollable, as the reality of it started to sink in.

“I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“I know,” he said, glancing at you again, his expression softer now, like he was watching your reaction carefully. “You told me that night at my place… I booked it the next morning, so I was hoping you’d be happy with it.”

You turned back to him, still smiling, something bright and excited bubbling up inside your chest.

“I am.” You nodded your head. “I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Good.” He smirked, “And I thought we were clear on the rules. All I want is for you to have a good time, no worries, no stress. All I want in return is your company. I just want to see you smile.”

And you were doing exactly that right now as he turned onto your street. You leaned your head back against the seat, laughing softly to yourself.

“I still can’t believe I called in sick for a trip to Paris.” You said, more to yourself than anything, but Noah huffed a quiet laugh.

“Sounds like a pretty good reason to me.”

You turned your head slightly, looking at him again, your smile softer now.

“…You’re crazy, you know that?”

He parked up outside your place, turning off the engine before looking over at you properly.

“No,” he said quietly as he took the keys from the engine, “I just know what I want.”

“And what’s that?” You asked, your voice just a little softer.

He held your gaze for a moment.

“You,” he said simply. “Happy.”

Fuck. You swallowed, your heart doing that stupid, fluttery thing again as you looked away first, suddenly very aware of how warm your cheeks felt. You reached for the door, your brain scrambling for words.

“I’ll- uh, be quick.” You said, glancing back at him for just a second before stepping out of the car.

“Take your time.” He replied easily.

But of course you didn’t. The second you got inside your apartment, you moved fast.

Your heart was still racing, your thoughts all over the place- Paris, Paris, Paris- as you headed straight for your room. You stripped your work clothes off before reaching into your wardrobe, pulling out something better, something more you.

You changed quickly, tossing on something simple but flattering, something you always felt good in. You ran a hand through your hair, fixing it just enough, checking yourself in the mirror.

And for a second you paused, because already you felt different. You felt lighter, brighter, like something had already started changing…

“…Okay!” You whispered to yourself, grabbing your bag before rushing back out the front door.

Noah was still exactly where you left him, one arm resting lazily on the steering wheel, the other draped near the window.

But the second you appeared again, he looked over- and you caught the way his expression immediately changed.

His eyes moved over you slowly, not even trying to hide it this time, and he subtly licked his bottom lip before he looked back up at your face.

“…Yeah.” He said quietly, almost to himself. You raised a brow as you approached the car, trying not to smile too much.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, but there was a small smirk tugging at his lips now. “You just…” He stopped himself, shaking his head slightly. “Get in.”

You laughed under your breath, climbing back into the passenger seat again.

…

The first shop that Noah took you to was… different. You knew it the second you stepped inside.

Everything was perfect. Too perfect, and almost intimidating in the way everything was displayed. It was the kind of place where you felt like you had to stand up straighter just to belong there. You wandered between the racks, fingers brushing over fabrics you almost felt scared to touch properly.

And Noah noticed almost immediately that you looked a little uncomfortable.

“You don’t like it.” He said, not as a question.

You glanced at him, hesitating.

“It’s nice…” You said carefully.

“But?” He pressed.

You exhaled softly, lowering your voice.

“It just… doesn’t feel like me. I don’t feel like I belong here…”

There was no judgment in your tone, just honesty, and Noah didn’t even hesitate, he was already turning towards the exit.

“That’s alright.” He said simply.

You blinked.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah,” he glanced back at you. “If you’re not comfortable, why would we stay?”

Your chest ached a little at how easy that was for him.

“No arguing?”

“Nope.”

“…Huh.”

He smirked slightly, reaching for your hand.

“Come on.”

…

The next place felt completely different.

Still nice, still a little more expensive than what you’d usually go for, but more welcoming, softer and more relaxed. The kind of place where you didn’t feel like you were being watched while you browsed.

“Oh, I like this already.” You said, your shoulders relaxing as you stepped further inside.

“I thought you might.” Noah replied with a little smile.

And just like that, you started to shop with no hesitation. You moved between racks, picking things out, holding them up, actually considering them instead of immediately putting them back.

But every time you did, Noah was right behind you, watching when your eyes would light up before checking the price tag and quietly collecting everything you put back

At one point, without even thinking, you handed him your small handbag so you could hold a dress up to your body in the mirror to see how short it would look, and he just happily took it. No hesitation, no comment, not even any teasing.

You didn’t even realise how ridiculous it looked until you stepped back and saw him properly. Big, tall, tattooed Noah Sebastian with your little bag on his arm.

You stared at him for a second, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Oh my god.” You grinned, forcing yourself to look away.

He glanced at you, confused.

“What?”

“That looks so funny.” You said, laughing again. He looked down at it, then back at you, completely unfazed.

“Does it?”

“Yes!” You grinned. “Here, I’ll take it back”

“No,” he said simply, adjusting it slightly on his arm. “I’ve got it.”

You shook your head, still smiling.

“You look ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but I’m not letting you carry anything.” He said.

There was something about that, again, that made your chest feel warm. It’s the way he wasn’t saying it to be controlling, he wasn’t overbearing, he just wanted to take care of things- of you- without making it a big deal.

And to be honest, you could get used to this.

You turned back to the racks, still smiling to yourself.

“Ooh, wait!” You said, stopping suddenly as you spotted a top.

You picked it out and held it up against yourself, turning slightly as you looked in the mirror again.

“This is cute.”

Noah, a step behind you, glanced at it once.

“Yeah,” he said. “Take it.”

You hesitated for a second.

“I have things like this already.”

But even as you said it, you were already putting it back.

And just like before, the second your hand left it, his replaced yours. You didn’t even need to turn around this time to know.

“…Noah.” You sighed.

“What?”

You turned to look at him, watching as he added it to the growing collection over his arm.

“I literally just said-”

“I heard you.”

“Then why are you-”

“Because you liked it.” He said simply, like that was the end of the conversation. And somehow… it was. You stared at him for a second longer before letting out a small breath, shaking your head.

“You’re impossible.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “Keep going.”

You turned away again, but you were smiling now.

A few steps later, you found a skirt- short and flowy and light, something you could already picture wearing while walking through warm streets, maybe with one of the tops you’d just picked out.

You held it up, tilting your head.

“This feels very… Paris. What do you think?”

Noah smirked slightly.

“Oh yeah, that’s coming with us.”

You laughed softly, folding it over your arm this time instead of putting it back.

Progress!

Next came another top, this a little more you, then a second skirt, slightly shorter, something that made your confidence spike just holding it.

And then you saw a jacket you liked. You paused, pulling it off the rack, running your hand over the material.

“…Okay, this is actually really nice.”

“It’ll get cooler in the evenings.” Noah added from behind you, already trying to influence you.

You glanced back at him.

“So I do need layers?”

“Just in case.”

You nodded slowly, considering it… before placing it back.

“It’s probably not necessary.”

You were met with silence for a moment… then you heard the faintest rustle behind you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting out a sigh.

“…You picked it up, didn’t you?”

“Yep.”

You turned around, narrowing your eyes at him, but you couldn’t stop the smile pulling at your lips.

“You’re not even subtle about it anymore.”

“Why would I be?”

You huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking your head again before turning back.

And then you saw another rack of dresses. Your steps slowed slightly as you moved closer, your fingers brushing along the fabric of one, then another.

“These are gorgeous…” You breathed, pulling one free.

It was everything. You could imagine how it would fit you so perfectly, it was such a nice fabric, the perfect length- you couldn’t help but feel excited just imagining wearing it.

You held it up, staring at it for a second longer than anything else you’d picked so far.

“Is this too much?” You asked quietly, even though your voice didn’t quite match the way your eyes lingered on it.

Noah stepped a little closer this time.

“Try it.”

You hesitated.

“…Noah.”

“Just try it on.” He repeated, softer this time, but there was something in his tone that made your breath catch slightly.

You looked at the dress again, then back at him. And instead of putting it back, you passed it to him to add to the growing pile on his arm.

You picked out another and another, each one somehow more sexy than the last, the kind of dresses you never even let yourself consider before. And every single one ended up in his hands.

By the time you moved on, your little pile had doubled. His arms were full of tops, skirts, dresses, the jacket that you definitely said no to…

But then you ended up in the pants section. You grabbed a pair of simple black trousers, nice enough to dress up or down.

“These are practical!” You said as if to justify them as you held them up.

“Good,” Noah nodded. “Take them.” You added them to the pile.

Then your eyes caught something else- a nice pair of flare leggings. The fabric was soft and stretchy, you could imagine it hugging in all the right places. You pulled them out, raising a brow slightly as you held them up.

“…Okay, these are kind of cute. Maybe for when we’re exploring the city…?”

Noah didn’t answer right away. So you glanced back at him, and noticed he was already looking at you- but not your face. He was looking lower, like he was already picturing your ass in them.

You immediately blushed.

“…What?” You asked, narrowing your eyes slightly, though there was a smile threatening to break through.

“Nothing.” He said, far too casually.

You squinted at him, and a little smirk pulled at his lips now, completely unapologetic.

“I just think you should try them.”

“Oh my god-” You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Just saying.”

You shook your head, laughing under your breath as you added them to the pile anyway.

“Shut up.”

By the time you finally made your way toward the changing rooms again, your arms were full, Noah’s even more so- and you had never felt so happy.

This wasn’t just shopping to you, it meant a lot more than that. This was you letting yourself have nice things. Letting him give them to you, and somewhere along the way you stopped feeling guilty about it.

But just as you approached the changing rooms, you slowed again. Your eyes were being pulled towards the lingerie section. The lace and silk looked entirely too temping, and you hesitated for a moment. Which of course, Noah noticed.

“Something caught your eye?” He teased, his voice low and close enough now that you could feel it more than hear it.

You glanced back at him, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“I don’t know if I should,” you admitted, quieter this time. “Feels a bit…”

“Like you’re thinking too much?” He answered for you.

You exhaled a small laugh. Maybe it wasn’t that deep.

“…Maybe.”

“Go on.” He said, nodding over to it. But you hesitated again, your fingers tightening around the clothes in your arms.

“But you said-”

“No expectations,” he said, nodding once. “I meant that.”

You studied him for a second, trying to read him.

“Then what’s the point?” You asked, a little more honest than you meant to be. “Buying something like that when you’re not even-”

“Who said it has to be for me?” He smirked.

You froze. Your brain short circuited. He moved a little closer to you, just enough that he could whisper in your ear.

“You don’t pick something like that because someone’s going to see it,” he continued, his voice a little rougher around the edges. “You pick it because it makes you feel good.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, the way he spoke made you feel a little dizzy.

“…And if someone does see it?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

That earned you a look. There was something almost a little darker in his eyes when he met yours again.

“Then I guess they’re lucky.” He said slowly, quietly.

You swallowed, suddenly very aware of just how close he was standing, and the way he was looking at you- like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

You swallowed, suddenly very aware of the way he was standing, the way he was looking at you… like he already knew exactly what you were thinking. Your eyes drifted back to the display, and you wandered over.

Your hand reached out, your fingers brushing lightly over the straps of a lace bra.

“This is pretty.” You said.

“Yeah,” he said from behind you, voice softer now. “It would be.”

You ignored that completely as you picked it up, holding it against yourself as you looked in one of the mirrors, your pulse picking up when you saw him watching you.

“…Too much?” You asked, your voice just a little quieter than before.

His eyes dragged over it, then you, and you watched him debate his words.

“No,” he said slowly. “Not even close.”

God, he made your head spin.

You looked back at it again, your hesitation still there, but it felt different now. Less like doubt, and more like anticipation.

“I don’t even know if I should be looking at this stuff.” You admitted with a little giggle.

He huffed a quiet laugh, stepping just a little closer.

“You really think I’d stop you?”

You glanced up at him again.

“…No.”

“Good.”

There was a pause, but then he added,

“You never know what might happen while we’re there.” His voice was a little quieter this time, his tone dipping just enough to make your stomach flip all over again.

You didn’t say anything to that, you couldn’t. Your brain had turned to nothing but mush. Instead, you kept walking, picking out another piece and then another.

And every time you hesitated, Noah didn’t rush you or push. He just stood there, holding everything else you’d chosen, watching you with that same little teasing look on his face, but still so patient, like he was enjoying every second of you figuring it out.

When you finally reached the changing rooms, he pushed the curtain aside for you, stepping in just long enough to hang everything up neatly along the rail for you.

“There you go,” he said, adjusting one of the hangers so it sat straight. “Take your time.”

You nodded, suddenly a little more aware of yourself under his attention.

“…You’re not staying?” You asked, half teasing, half curious.

His eyes met yours again, something amused in them this time.

“I think you can manage getting dressed on your own,” he said lightly. “I’ll be right outside.”

And with that, he stepped out, letting the curtain fall shut behind him.

You exhaled, like you’ve been holding your breath around the entire store.

You glanced at the clothes hanging in front of you- the dresses, the tops, the skirts and pants… and the lingerie tucked slightly off to the side, you couldn’t wait to try it on when you got home.

Just thinking about it made you feel faint- but you shook your head and reached for the first dress.

…

“Ready?” You called, your voice just slightly raised over the soft music playing in the store.

“Whenever you are.” Noah replied easily from the other side.

You hesitated for half a second… then pulled the curtain aside. And there he was, exactly how you pictured him.

Leaning back slightly against the wall opposite your cubicle, legs parted just enough to look effortless, arms crossed over his chest. Your handbag still hung from his arm, looking ridiculously small against him, and yet he carried it like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket the second you stepped out, and he couldn’t help but stare.

“Okay...” He said quietly, making your heart race.

“Is that good, or-”

“Turn around.”

Your breath caught slightly, but you did it anyway, smoothing your hands over the fabric as you gave him a small spin. When you looked back at him, he was still watching you, head tilted slightly like he was taking everything in.

“That one’s gonna be dangerous.” He said finally.

“Dangerous?” You scoffed.

“Mhm.” His eyes met yours again, something teasing in them now. “You wear that to dinner, I’m not gonna hear a word anyone says.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, but you tried to play it off, rolling your eyes slightly as you stepped back.

“Yeah, yeah...”

“I’m serious.”

You disappeared behind the curtain again before he could say anything else, your heart racing and your head spinning.

…

The next outfit was different. It was something more casual, maybe something for when the two of you walked around the city. And when you stepped out, you didn’t even need to ask his opinion, because you watched the way his face changed, how his arms uncrossed and his posture shifted.

“Oh this is cute,” he nodded, “It’s very you.”

You smiled a little at that.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, pushing himself off the wall just slightly. “That’s the one you wear when we’re walking around all day and you pretend you’re not turning heads.”

You laughed softly.

“I do not-”

“You do.” He cut in, a small smirk tugging at his lips, “Trust me.”

Your smile lingered as you stepped back inside again.

…

Outfit after outfit, you repeated the same pattern. You stepped out, he gawked, said something that made you blush or lifted your confidence just a little higher

The last item was the dress. The one you’ve been more excited to try on than anything else. You slipped it on slowly, grinning giddily at your reflection because you just looked so good, you almost didn’t recognise yourself. You had never felt this good in your own skin.

Then you stepped out.

And this time, Noah didn’t say anything straight away.

His arms dropped completely from his chest, your handbag slipping slightly down his wrist as his eyes moved over you, taking his time to take you in, making your heart beat so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“…What?” You asked, suddenly hyper aware of yourself, worrying that maybe you looked ridiculous. But he exhaled softly through his nose, shaking his head just once.

“This is the one.” He smiled.

Something in your chest tightened.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, quieter this time. Then his eyes lifted back to yours, that same teasing edge returning just slightly. “You don’t even need to ask. It’s like it was made for you.”

You bit back a smile, and for a second, neither of you moved. You just stood there… while he looked at you like that.

…

After trying everything on, and deciding to keep everything, Noah set piece after piece down on the counter to pay- dresses, tops, the jacket you said no to, the leggings that made him stare at your ass, and the delicate lingerie tucked in within it all.

The cashier started scanning… and scanning and scanning and scanning.

You shifted slightly on your feet, watching the total climb out of the corner of your eye, your stomach doing a small, nervous flip.

“…Noah,” you whispered under your breath, leaning just a little closer to him, “This is a lot.”

He didn’t even look at the screen.

“Mm.”

“That’s not a response!” You whispered, trying not to laugh.

He finally glanced down at you, still completely unfazed.

“I know.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Nope.”

You stared at him for a second, trying to figure out if he was serious. But he was.

He was completely serious.

The cashier finally finished, giving him the total, and without hesitation- without even blinking- Noah just pulled out his card.

No second thought, no pause, the payment went through and you felt your tummy flutter again. There was just something about it, not the money- not really- but the way he was so calm and sure about it all. Like taking care of things for you was the simplest thing in the world, and this was just the beginning.

You swallowed as he collected the receipt, thanked the cashier and took all the bags.

“Thank you.” You said quietly, your voice softer now as you both headed to the doors.

“Don’t,” he said just as quietly. “You don’t need to thank me.”

You didn’t argue this time, because you were finally starting to understand what this all meant.

…

A few moments later you were back outside, the chilly evening air hitting your skin as Noah carried all the bags like they weighed nothing. You reached for one instinctively.

“Here, I can-”

“No.”

Your brows furrowed.

“…No?”

“No,” he repeated, shifting them slightly in his grip, your handbag still hooked casually over his wrist like before. “I’ve got it.”

You laughed softly, falling into step beside him.

“You’re not even going to let me pretend to help?”

“You can pretend by walking next to me.” He replied dryly.

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

“Such a gentleman.”

“I try.”

Your head was still spinning a little as you walked back to the car, and he started to load everything in carefully, bag by bag until it was all tucked neatly inside.

“Do you need a bigger suitcase?” He asked, like it was the most normal question in the world.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?”

“For all of that,” he nodded toward the back. “I can get you one.”

You glanced at the car, then back at him, another small laugh escaping you.

“No, I think I’m okay,” you said. “It’ll fit.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” You nodded your head, and he studied you for a second, before opening the passenger door for you.

“Alright.”

There was a small pause as you both moved around the car, settling back into your seats. Your heart was still racing a little as you buckled your seatbelt, glancing over at him as he started the engine.

“So…” you said, “What now?”

He looked over at you, that same calm, confident look settling back into place.

“Now,” he said, putting the car into gear, “We go back to yours.”

“To pack?” You smiled.

He smirked slightly.

“I’ve already packed,” he said, nodding toward the back seat where his suitcase sat, barely noticeable until now. “So yeah. We get your things, make sure you’ve got everything you need…”

“…And then?”

His eyes met yours for just a second, and something about the way he said it made your heart race again.

“Then we leave.”

・┈・୨୧・┈・

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You and the girls had all agreed it had been far too long since you all got together to catch up, so that’s exactly what you were doing tonight. You bought pizza, Maya bought wine, and Jess invited you both over. At first she said Noah could join too, but you didn’t want that, you just wanted to be with your best friends. You wanted it to feel like it used to, when the three of you would stay up until the early hours of the morning giggling with each other, gossiping, bringing back up old stories from school. You promised them nothing would change now you and Noah were basically dating. 

Though it felt like he was here with you anyway, with the amount of texts you were receiving. 

Noah: I miss you :(

Noah: Hope you’re all having fun babe

Noah: Please don’t start drunk texting me though, I can never understand a thing you’re trying to say

You chuckled at his messages, before tossing your phone on to the coffee table carefully and turning back to the girls. Jess and Maya were both sitting on the couch, and you were more than happy to take the beanbag. 

“So, how's loverboy?” Jess asked with a grin as she took a sip of her wine. 

“He’s being clingy.” You sighed playfully, “I told him to go out with the guys or do something, but he’s at home writing or doing… whatever Noah does.” 

“I can’t believe we’ve watched you go from hating this guy to being completely whipped-”

“I am not-” 

“Admit it,” Maya smiled, “You’re a little whipped.” 

You groaned, shaking your head. 

“Can we please not use the word whipped… what happened to saying you just like somebody.” 

“Oooh so you like him, huh? It seems a lot deeper than that to me.” Jess chuckled. “You spend all your time with this guy, you work with him, you go home with him- or he goes home with you- you smile like an idiot when you think about him, like you’re doing right now-”

“Shut up!” You grinned despite yourself

“Case closed.” Jess smiled triumphantly as she reached for another slice of pizza.

Everything felt normal… it all felt good again. You hadn’t had a night with your friends like this in too long, you’ve been too busy with work at the garage, too stressed with Steve being in the hospital… and then of course, there was Noah. Life had just gotten a little busy, but you made a promise that you’d never let anything ever get in the way of you and your best friends. 

And two bottles of wine later, the topic of conversation came back to Noah. 

“I’m serious though,” Jess said with a smile. “You two are literally made for each other…”

You groaned again, leaning back in the beanbag.

“Please stop. Can we talk about something else? How’s Sam?”

Jess ignored you completely, and Maya tilted her head slightly, watching you.

“So how did this even happen?” She asked. “The last time I remember we talked about him, you were calling him an idiot.”

“He is an idiot.” You said immediately.

Jess laughed.

“But he’s your idiot now.”

You pointed at her again.

“You are on thin ice tonight, Jessica.”

She raised her hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay. But seriously, remind us… because I still remember the first time you told us about him, you were like ohh there’s this new guy at work, he’s the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop smiling.

“He was annoying- he still is.” You took another sip of your drink.

“Yeah, but… in a good way.” Jess giggled. 

“In a good way.” You agreed around a mouthful of wine. 

Maya tilted her head slightly.

“In a good way?”

You shrugged, trying to act casual even though your cheeks were starting to feel warm.

“Yeah, because even though he got under my skin and he knew it, he just… stuck around.”

Jess snorted.

“I mean it,” you said, sitting forward a little now. “Most people would’ve given up.”

Maya’s brows drew together slightly.

“Given up on what?”

“On me.” You said simply.

The room went a little quieter. You hadn’t meant to say it like that, but it was true. And you all knew it, and that’s why Jess’s expression softened.

“Hey-”

You shrugged again.

“I’m serious. I wasn’t exactly easy on him at the beginning. You guys know that.”

Jess laughed quietly.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“You hated him.” Maya added.

“I didn’t hate him… not really.”

“You said you did.”

You shook your head. 

“Whatever happened in the beginning doesn’t matter now, because he proved himself.” You said after a moment, your voice softer now. “At first, I thought he was just this fuckboy. He was always talking about girls he’d slept with and what he did the night before- he even came into work one morning covered in hickies. But… I dunno. I guess I just warmed up to him in the end, because I saw through the fuckboy act… and I realised we were more alike than either of us thought...”

Maya watched you carefully.

“And that’s when you fell for him?”

You shook your head.

“No.”

“So when did it happen?” Jess asked curiously. 

You thought about it for a second, and images flickered through your mind.

The day it rained when you were walking home from work and Noah insisted on driving you back, and he didn’t give up until you got in the car. When he asked for Maya’s number to make you jealous, but got yours in the end anyway. When your car broke down and he left a party to come and help you, to make sure you were safe. The time he stuck up for you when the rude customer came in, “you think I’d let anyone talk to you like that? Not a chance.” The night Steve locked you both in the garage overnight. When he picked you up from the bar when you were drunk and wanted to go home without ruining your friends' night. The business trip, the hotel room, losing your virginity to him. Sam’s halloween party- spending Noah’s birthday with him, buying him a cake, making him feel special… the way he held you when you cried outside the hospital. The way he told you he loved you. 

Your lips curved into a small smile.

“I don’t think there was one particular moment. He just slowly became my favourite person.”

Jess clutched her chest.

“Oh that’s so sweet…” She pouted. 

Maya swirled the wine- her fourth or fifth glass- slowly, and didn’t even look up when she spoke. 

“And he treats you well?” She asked.

You looked up immediately.

“Yeah.” There was no hesitation. “Really well. Better than I even treat myself a lot of the time.” 

Jess nodded approvingly.

“I always liked him, honestly. Even when he was fucking around with other girls in the beginning, I knew he would stop it all if you told him to.” 

You blinked at her.

“You did?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “From the stories you told, it sounds a lot like he fell for you long before you even considered liking him.”

“You mean the ones where I complained about him constantly?”

“Yes!” She laughed. “And I realised as time went by that you were falling for him too...”

You snorted, about to shoot something back when your phone buzzed again, and Jess grabbed it before you could even move. 

“HA!”

“Jess!”

She held the phone out of your reach, squinting at the screen.

“Oh my god.”

“What?!”

She read it out loud.

“You’re just gonna ignore me babe?- and there's another! Make sure you drink water after each glass of wine, don’t want you feeling like shit tomorrow. Aww! He’s babysitting you!”

“He is not.” You hissed. 

Jess tossed the phone back to you.

“Text him back.”

You glanced at the screen, and started typing. 

You: I’m fine, I can handle my drink 

Noah: Sure, and that’s why I keep puke bags in my car huh?

You laughed under your breath, and set your phone back down on the table. Then Maya leaned back into the couch cushions again, watching you.

“So…” She said slowly, her cheeks pink from the wine. 

You looked up.

“Yeah?”

“When did you realise you were actually… in love with him?”

The question made your stomach flip, and Jess’s eyes widened.

“Oh shit. Good question.”

You hesitated for a second, then let out a small breath.

“Well, we actually said it to each other… just a few weeks ago.”

Jess leaned forward eagerly.

“Huh? What happened?”

You stared down at your wine glass, smiling softly.

“We were at the hospital visiting Steve.”

Jess’s expression softened immediately.

“And I just… got overwhelmed.” You rubbed your thumb along the side of the glass. “I started crying and Noah was just so good with me… that’s when I really realised I loved him, and it… just slipped out.”

Jess gasped.

“You said it first?!”

“Yeah.” You nodded slowly, a little shy now under the attention. 

Maya sat up a little straighter now.

“And he said it back?” She asked.

You glanced down at your glass for a second before looking back up, not even trying to stop the smile from spreading across your face. 

“Yeah, he did.”

Jess couldn’t help but let out a delighted squeal, kicking her feet like a teenager. 

“Oh my god, I love this! I love you two!!”

You groaned as you covered your face for a second while she laughed. But Maya didn’t laugh. 

Because she felt her heart sink. 

“Oh… really?” She asked slowly, quietly.

You frowned slightly at her tone. 

“…Yeah?”

She leaned back against the couch, her expression unreadable. But in her chest, her heart was racing, adrenaline raced through her veins, and the feelings she had tried so so hard to push down were threatening to rise again. Despite her best efforts to hold it back, she felt it all at once. Guilt, anger, jealousy, sadness, confusion. 

She didn’t think. She didn’t stop herself. The words came out before she could stop them. 

“Well I guess his plan worked then.”

Your stomach dropped.

“His what?”

Maya shrugged casually. She told Noah that she wouldn’t tell you that they slept together. So instead, she decided she’d make something up, something even more painful, something she knew you’d never forgive him for. Something you’d believe.

“You know. His plan all along was just to get in your pants.”

Jess’s blood suddenly ran cold as she turned her head to face her. 

“Maya, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You know it too, Jess. He told me to my face, he said he only wanted to fuck you because nobody else had. He didn’t want anything more, but you just got too attached, then your uncle got sick and he didn’t want to make himself look like an asshole. So he stayed. Not because he wanted to, but because he felt like he had to.”  

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach.

… 

Not too far away, Noah was at home. He was sitting in his bedroom, cross legged on his bed with his guitar in his lap. He was humming away to himself as he played, coming up with some ideas for new songs. 

He’d been texting you all night- he knew he shouldn’t have, since you were spending the night with your best friends, but he was missing you already. God, you’ve completely taken over his brain.

He wasn’t quite sure when exactly he fell in love with you- it could’ve been the first time you ever called him annoying, or a bastard- but all he knew that he was in so deep now. He’s never felt this way really about anybody before. But you were just different. 

He liked that you put up a fight in the beginning, he was so used to girls swooning over him, wanting to get him in their beds, they’d blush and giggle when he’d compliment them- but you would roll your eyes at him and tell him to fuck off. He still wondered to himself if you were playing hard to get all along, or if you genuinely didn’t like him in the beginning. Either way, his bed now smells like you, and he keeps a little basket of your things on his dresser for when you sleep over. 

He was just hoping you’d be okay with the move. 

He was looking at moving to LA for the band, and he found a nice apartment not too far from where his friends live. He was hesitant about it at first, since he’d gotten used to life here again. Originally, his plan was to come back to his hometown for a while, get a boring job and start saving up so he could move out there. He never in a million years thought he would’ve fallen in love here. 

So he was going to ask you to come with him. 

It wasn't definite yet, though. He wasn’t sure if he would get the place, but he’s already submitted the application, so he was waiting to hear back. He remembered the night of Sam’s halloween party, the way you told him you wanted to get out of this place one day and make a name for yourself, so he was going to ask you to come with him and offer you that opportunity. He was just afraid that with your uncle being sick, and having to run the shop essentially by yourself, that you’d say no- which was fine. He was perfectly happy doing a long distance relationship, but he just hated the idea of you being alone after a bad day, having nobody to cuddle with when you were sick, having nobody to hold you at night. 

God, why did he have to fall for you?

He found himself distracted again, staring down at the guitar in his lap as he thought about it all. 

If you moved out there with him, you could work for the band. They needed someone to help out with merch, or you could even help Matt-

But what if you wanted to do your own thing, separate from him? You were already so independent, who said you’d even want to work for the band?

Noah sighed, putting his guitar down and checking his phone again… but you hadn’t replied. He hoped you were having a fun night with your friends, talking about whatever girls talk about when they’re together…

…

“You’re lying to me.” You said, shaking your head, “Noah’s not like that! Why would he even talk to you about that...?” 

“You wanna bet on that?” Maya scoffed. 

“Look, can we not start this tonight?” Jess groaned, “I thought we were going to-”

“Sorry Jess, but it's not adding up. If she’s accusing my boyfriend of-”

“Oh so he’s your boyfriend now? I thought you two didn’t want to label it? What does that tell you about him?” Maya snapped back, a stupid smirk on her face that you wanted to-

“I was the one who didn’t want to put a label on it!” 

“Really?” She crossed her arms over her chest, “And why’s that? Because you’re scared of this very thing? That he’ll break your heart when things start to get too real, because he didn’t give a shit from the beginning?”

You tried to tell yourself she was lying. Oh how you tried to tell yourself it wasn’t true… but that was the reason. 

“And why are you only telling me all of this now?” You asked, already sounding a little defeated. 

“Because I never thought you’d actually be so stupid as to fall for him!” She laughed, taking another sip of wine, “Guys like Noah don’t do relationships, they just to fuck and move on to the next when they’ve gotten what they wanted. Which is what Noah would’ve done, if you didn’t get too attached. I mean c’mon, you were playing hard to get in the beginning, he just wanted to know he could fuck you. You seriously think he actually loves you?” 

Oh, that was it. That touched something deep inside you, just like she knew it would, and you snapped. 

The glass in your hand hit the table a little harder than you meant for it to, the wine spilling over the rim as you rose to your feet. 

“Say that again.” Your voice shook with nothing but anger, and Jess quickly raised her hands in the air. 

“Hey, hey- let’s just calm down-”

But Maya was completely unfazed, she just leaned back, that smug look still sitting on her face like she wanted this reaction from you. 

“I said,” she repeated slowly, “You seriously think he loves-”

Smack. 

The sound echoed through the room before she could even finish what she was saying. You slapped her over the face so hard that her head turned to the side, and all that followed for a second was silence. 

Until she opened her mouth to say something again- but you didn’t let her. She barely had time to react before you grabbed her by the front of her top, and yanked her forwards, dragging her up to her feet. 

“What are you-”

“Don’t you fucking talk about him like that!” You hissed now that you were face to face. Your chest was heaving, but she still looked too unfazed. God you wanted to wipe that look off her face.

And as if she couldn't make it any worse, she just laughed... 

“You’re pathetic.” She said, “You really think he-”

You didn’t let her finish. Instead, without realising you ever had it in you, your fist flew into her face, the sound of it echoing through the room as she stumbled back from the force of it. Jess gasped, loud and panicked, but afraid to get involved. 

“Oh my god-”

Maya staggered, her hand flying up to her cheek, her eyes wide now- no longer smug or calm. But worse... angry.

She shoved you back hard, but it didn’t stop you, because you grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked hard. Pain shot through her scalp as her hands flew up to grab at your wrist, but you pulled again. 

“You’re lying!” You cried, “You don’t even know him!” 

“I know enough!” She snapped back, her voice sharp as he tried to pry you off of her, “More than you do apparently-”

“Shut up!” You shouted, pulling again, your grip tightening without even thinking. 

“Get the fuck off me!” She yelled, and this time she grabbed your hair back. 

You let out a pained groan, but you didn’t stop. The two of you just stood there for a second, locked like that- both angry, gripping each other, too far gone to stop. Under any other circumstance it may have looked hilarious, but right now you were just furious. 

“Stop it!” Jess cried, rushing forwards, but neither of you listened. 

“You really think you’re special?” Maya hiss through her teeth, tugging your hair again, “You think you’re the one he suddenly decided to change for?”

“Yes!” You shouted, your voice shaky, tears beginning to spill from your eyes, “I do!” 

“Then you’re a fucking idiot!” 

You couldn’t help but snap again, never have you ever been a violent person, but you shoved her as hard as you could. Her grip on you slipped as she lost her balance, stumbling backwards before going down, hitting the floor with a heavy thud beside the coffee table. 

“Maya!” Jess gasped, her hands shaking as she held them over her mouth. 

But you weren’t listening. Your breathing was completely out of control, your chest heaving, your hands shaking too as you lowered them to your sides. Your head hurt, your heart was pounding so hard it made you feel sick, but Maya still wasn’t backing down. She pushed herself up slightly, one hand braced on the floor, the other coming up to her shoulder where you shoved her- and she just glared at you furiously, like she meant every word she said. 

And a part of you was afraid, because you actually believed her. 

“I need to talk to him.” You said quietly, wiping your tears away from your face as you reached for your phone from the coffee table. 

“...What?” Jess asked, looking between the two of you. 

“I’m not listening to this from her.” You said, your eyes locked on Maya as you spoke to Jess, “If there’s anything to hear… he can say it to my face.” 

Maya let out a short, humourless laugh as she sat up fully. 

“Yeah,” she scoffed, “Go on then.” 

Jess stopped in front of you, her hands hovering like she wasn’t sure whether to touch you or not. 

“Hey… don’t do anything stupid, okay?” She said softly, “You’ve been drinking, you’re upset- just wait until tomorrow when you’ve got a clear head-”

“I’m not waiting.” You said, your voice interupting hers. You grabbed your coat with trembling hands, your whole body still rushing with adrenaline, your head spinning from everything she’d just said. 

“I need to hear it from him.” 

Jess’s expression softened, worry written all over her face. 

“You shouldn’t go alone.” 

“I’ll be fine.” But your voice didn’t sound fine, not even a little. 

You shoved your arms into your coat and grabbed your bag before heading straight for the door. 

“Text me when you get there!” Jess called after you, but you didn’t answer her. 

You just opened the door, felt the cold night air hit you like a shock, and stepped out into the night. 

Your heart was racing, your head was still full of all Maya's words, your hands were still shaking, but none of that mattered. You were already walking fast, fueled by anger and hurt, by the need to hear the truth from him. 

Back inside, Jess was cursing at Maya as she dragged her up from the floor. 

“What the hell was that about?” She asked, her voice sharp as she helped Maya onto her feet. 

She just shrugged, clearly drunk. 

“She needed to hear it.” 

Jess’s eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

“Are you serious right now? None of what you said was true in the slightest!” 

…

Noah was still sitting on his bed, still checking his phone every few minutes to see if you had replied, but you hadn’t. So he picked his guitar back up again, and played purely from muscle memory, since his mind was elsewhere. 

But then all of a sudden, the sound of the door practically being bashed down made him flinch. 

BANG BANG BANG

“What the fuck?”

Noah frowned as he sat the guitar back down, and stood up. 

BANG BANG BANG BANG

“Alright, alright!” He called out as he rushed down the stairs. 

He had no idea who it could be. It was late, his friends had keys, and you were at Jess’s place. He was almost hesitant to open the door, since something about it didn’t feel right. He swallowed hard, his stomach turning as he reached for the door handle-

And there you were- red eyed, messy hair, tears streaming down your face, your chest rising and falling far quicker than normal. 

His heart dropped. 

“Baby-” He barely got the word out, as you shoved past him 

“Don’t you fucking call me that!” 

He spun around, shutting the door carefully. 

“What happened?” He asked, stepping towards you slowly, his voice softening, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, wiping frustratedly at your face, your hands still shaking. 

“Don’t-” Your voice broke, and you had to swallow before trying again, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“I dont,” he started, frowning, “What are you talking about?”

You let out a shaky laugh, stepping back from him like you couldn’t stand to be too close. 

“Maya.” You said, and her name tasted bitter in your mouth. You were about to continue, but you saw the way his expression changed, he looked like he saw a ghost. 

And that was the moment you knew. 

“...What about Maya?” Noah asked carefully.

You took a deep breath before meeting his eyes again. 

“Is it true?” You asked, your voice small. “What she told me about you?”

Fuck. 

His heart dropped. Maya promised not to say anything, they both agreed it was best you never found out that they used to hook up- since that’s what he thought you were talking about. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Your eyes were wide and teary, searching his face like you were begging him to say no. 

But he didn’t. He just froze… and for a second, he thought about lying. 

But he couldn’t do that to you, not when you looked like that, not when he didn’t know just what detail Maya would’ve gone into. So he braced himself, exhaling slowly. 

“...I’m so sorry.” He said quietly, “I never meant for it to happen the way it did.” 

Oh.

You felt your heart physically shatter into pieces. Your chest hurting in a way it had never done before, you felt sick to your stomach. 

“I see…” You said, your voice just above a whisper. 

You never meant anything to him? This was an act, this entire time, because he felt sorry for you. All he wanted was to get in your pants, but you made it into something else entirely. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he said again, his voice sounding almost desperate, “If I could go back and do things differently, I would. It’s just… one thing led to another, I tried not to let it become what it did, but… I’m sorry.” 

All you could do was stare at him in silence, trying to wrap your head around it all… 

“Say something,” he whispered, reaching for you, “Please-”

“Don’t touch me!” You stepped back, the words landing hard, making him freeze. 

You had to look away, the sight of him made you feel sick. 

“I’m sorry, Noah.” You said, and his brows drew together, “I’m sorry I ever trusted you. I’m sorry I read it all wrong, I’m sorry I got too close. I knew deep down you could never ever change, but I gave you a chance anyway. So I guess I just hurt myself, huh?” You sighed, stepping towards the door, “I should’ve fucking knew from the beggining that you were nothing more than a-”

“Hey, don’t leave. We can fix this, okay? Can we just talk about it, so you can hear both sides?”

You shook your head. 

Deep down, you felt more disappointed than angry.

Disappointed at yourself, because you’ve never been this stupid before. You’ve always guarded your heart, you’ve never put yourself in the position to get hurt… but Noah just seemed different. Guess the saying was right all along, all men are the same. And they never change. 

“No. There’s nothing to talk about, Noah. We’re done.”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

🥲