ℳ.

you, curled up on the couch, head lolling to the side and the tv remote you’re holding slowly slipping out of your grip.

jason almost instantly relaxes, a soft smile on his face as he takes you in. he takes a moment to admire you before carefully moving toward you.

crouching down in front of you, he gently places a hand on your thigh. he whispers your name and nudges you slightly. you don’t move. he tries again, “baby.” his voice a little louder, squeezing your leg now.

you jolt awake with a small gasp, sitting up as your eyes adjust to register the man in front of you. “jay?” your voice comes out groggy, still laced with sleep.

“yeah, it’s me, sweets.” he smiles when your hand comes up to run over your face before your arms raise to stretch.

“you just get home?”

home.

his heart still races each time he’s reminded that this is his life now. you, and him. in your home. he can’t quite believe this is real. that you’re real.

so he makes sure to hold you close whenever he can. makes sure that you know how much you mean to him. he never wants to let you go.

“just now, yeah. you didn’t have to wait up.” both of his hands are on your each of your thighs, rubbing up and down mindlessly.

“woke up at around 2 am i think? figured you’d be home soon so i thought i’d wait.” your hands come to rest on his shoulders before they meet at the nape of his neck. “thought i’d make some tea and watch tv to keep me awake.”

jason turns back, his gaze on the coffee table in front of you, where your untouched cup of tea sat on a coaster. “you mean that tea?” he pointed at the cup, you follow his finger and groan softly at the sight.

“it’s probably all cold now.” you frown. he laughs, “want me to make you another one?”

“no, it’s fine.”

it’s quiet for a moment before jason speaks again, “babe, the tv isn’t even on.” he realizes, his chest rumbling with low laughter. you lightly his chest in mock anger. “i was tired! and waiting for you.”

you boyfriend lets out a chuckle. “well, you did a great job.”

“don’t tease me, i’m sleepy.”

“right. sorry, lovely.” he leans in and rests his forehead against yours, giving you a quick peck on the lips.

“how was it out there?” you ask him, leaning back and pulling on his arm so he joins you on the couch. jason plants himself next to you, pulling your legs over his. your head instinctively comes to rest on his shoulder.

“nothing too crazy.” he shrugs. “a few muggings, stopped an arms deal but my lead on black mask’s new operation went cold, though.”

you hum in acknowledgment, fingers tracing over the symbol on his chest. “you’ll get him. you always do.”

“also ran into b.”

“really?”

“mhm. didn’t end in a screaming match so, progress. i guess.”

“better than nothing, right?”

you knew that jason’s relationship with his father is now… strained after everything that happened. you knew it hurt jason to be at odds with bruce. but they’re both set in their ways, unwavering in their beliefs.

they were two sides of the same coin, which they know but will never admit.

you can only hope there is a reconciliation of sorts in the future. jason’s happiness is all you want.

“you hungry?” you ask, closing your eyes for a moment. you feel him shake his head. “not really.” he mumbles.

“want a snack? ice cream? i got you more neopolitan. saw you ran out.”

he leans back slowly, narrowing his eyes at you “i didn’t run out; you ate all the chocolate”

“it’s the best flavor!”

“you’re supposed to eat it all together!”

“not when i have free will.”

it’s silent for a few minutes after. when he looks down at you, he can see your eyes drooping a bit. you let another yawn, making jason sigh lovingly. “okay,” he taps your thigh, moving to get up. “let’s get you to bed, huh?”

once he’s on his feet, he holds his hand out for you. you take it, letting him pull you up. his other hand moves to the small of your back as he guides out of the living room.

your legs feel shaky and you stumble over your own feet when you try to walk, it’s suddenly difficult to walk in a straight line. you hear jason chuckle as he steadies you carefully. “yeah, you’re not making it.”

jason leans down, his arm going under your thigh. and before you know it, you’re lifted of the ground with ease and resting comfortably on his one arm. he’s unfazed, holding you up while his free arms dangles beside him.

your arms immediately go around his neck, pulling him closer to you so you can place a kiss on his cheek. jason can feel his face turn red, he’s thankful you’re too tired to tease him in your sleepy state.

once you reach the bedroom, jason carefully places you down on the bed, pulling the blanket over you as you settle in.

his hand comes up to rest on your cheek. the familiar feeling makes you lean into his touch, your eyes still closed. jason’s heart flutters. oh, you have no idea what you do to him.

he strokes your face softly, a look of complete adoration on his face. he sighs tiredly before leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead.

he slowly gets up to leave when your hand catches his wrist, tugging slightly. you mumble something, it’s slightly incoherent but jason makes it out as, “stay.”

“just gonna take a quick shower. you know you hate it when i get in bed with outside clothes. let alone with all this grime on me.”

you whine softly, making jason shake his head. “sleep, baby. i’ll be back in a few.” he whispers lowly, kissing the back of your hand and speeding off to the bathroom.

he manages to clean himself off in record time. he knows he still has to clean his guns and wash off his suit and helmet, but he decides to leave them for tomorrow. he couldn’t keep you waiting alone in bed any longer.

jason slides carefully under the covers, hoping you don’t wake up. but almost as if you can sense his presence, you turn over on your side, head coming to rest on his chest, hand tucked under your chin.

he pulls you impossibly closer, burying his nose into your hair before resting his chin against the top of your head.

“love you.” he whispers softly. he doesn’t wait for an answer, knowing you’re already asleep.

but he gets one anyway.

“love you too.”

he’s home.

But at eight years of age, all you needed was a scarf, your mother’s leg warmers and the skates and you could stay there until the sun set.

Your dad was looking at you from the kitchen’s window, a humming cup of coffee in his hand while your mother was doing her weekly crossword and watched the news in the living room. He didn’t think that the distant image of a father and his son playing hockey would be a problem for you, and he would’ve never imagined that you would be a problem for them.

That’s why he didn’t put the cup down when he saw the little boy skating towards you. He was a bit taller than you, but he must’ve been around your age. Your father thought he was just going to say hi, the boy’s dad was watching from the other side of the pond too. Everything was okay. You were a spoiled only child, overprotected by everyone in your family after being the first granddaughter and niece. He needed to let you be independent sometimes, he told himself, to socialise without needing your parents there, and more than anything you needed to learn to stand up for yourself.

Those were all very logical and healthy ways of thinking about parenthood, he thought satisfied, as he kept observing the interaction between you and the boy. He felt relaxed and confident, even proud of himself. Until he saw the way you pushed the little boy to the ground.

‘Oh, shit.’ He put the cup aside before running to the door, the distant sound of your mother’s voice behind him as he took his scarf and coat to walk outside.

When he got there, you were standing in front of the boy and his father with a frown on your face, and your arms crossed under your big scarf. The dad was helping the boy stand up while you stood silently angry, the embarrassment taking over your father as he lifted a friendly hand in the air.

‘Hello.’ He said. ‘What’s going on here?’

‘She pushed me!’ The little boy screamed at you with an accusing finger once his dad managed to help him stand up. ‘You saw it, daddy! You saw it! She pushed me!’

Your dad looked down at you as you rolled your eyes and looked to your side.

‘She did push him.’ Said the boy’s dad gravely. The tension between the two parents started to arise the more you refused to acknowledge what you had done or apologise quickly.

‘I saw.’ You dad finally said, kneeling down next to you and cursing the day he told your mother he wished you were like him. You were just as proud. ‘Snowflake, would you please explain to me why did you push…?’

‘Steve.’ The other man said, wrapping his arm around his boy before he started brushing the snow off him. Steve’s bravado had disappeared, and he couldn’t help but lean into his father’s touch, processing what had just happened.

‘Why did you push Steve, snowflake?’ Your dad said as he looked for your eyes.

You looked back at your father, very careful not to look back at Steve’s dad to avoid feeling intimidated. He wasn’t happy, and though most times he was patient and indulging with you, you had a feeling this time none of those things would help you.

‘He called me the B word.’

Both men frowned at your accusation, the atmosphere suddenly changing before they looked back at Steve, whose cheeks had recovered colour and were turning even redder now.

‘I called her a brat.’ He simply said.

‘That’s a bad word!’ You pointed at him.

‘It’s not as bad as bitch!’ He argued.

‘Hey!’ Steve’s dad took him by the shoulders. ‘Don’t say that word.’

‘I am not a brat.’ You said between your teeth to Steve as you stood there, ready to push him again if it was necessary. ‘And this is my pond.’

‘Okay, Snowflake, why don’t we—’

‘What happened?’ Your mother’s voice suddenly made them all look up. She had wrapped herself in one of those beautiful cosy shawls you loved to fall asleep on sometimes. ‘Oh, you must be the Harrington’s. I’m so glad to finally meet you.’

Mr Harrington didn’t refuse your mother’s hand as he stood up and gave her an awkward smile before looking at Steve.

‘This is Steve.’ He said putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. ‘We just had a bit of a misunderstanding.’

‘Oh, no.’ You mother said gravely, looking at you before she bent a little in front of the boy. ‘W-What happened?’

‘Your daughter’s a brat.’ Steve said.

And that was it, you were on him again. You heard your mother let out an Oh my god as you both fell on the floor, and you started to scream at him.

‘I told you I’m not a brat!’ Your hands gripped at his hockey shirt.

‘You are a brat!’ He screamed. ‘Get off me!’

You were taken away by a pair of arms that you’d recognise as your dad’s while he swore under his breath, and Mr Harrington had to help little Steve stand up once again.

‘I’m so sorry.’ You mother said mortified as she helped Mr Harrington with Steve. ‘I’m so sorry, sweetie. We’ve tried— She’s just not really good at sharing yet.’

‘This is my—’ Your started saying.

‘Hush!’ Your mother employed a severe tone you had rarely heard her use with you. Her eyes shut blades at you when she looked behind, and that was the day you learned that if there was something your parents couldn’t handle, was public humiliation. ‘Come here and tell Steve you are sorry.’

You crossed your arms, getting rid of you dad’s embrace as you looked from him to the scene in front of you. Steve swallowed hard when your eyes fell on him, and it should’ve given you some sense of satisfaction to know he was now scared of you, but it didn’t. You were too embarrassed by the warmth that ran to your cheeks at the sight of his pretty pink cheeks and his messy brown hair.

‘No.’ You finally said.

Your mom took a deep breath, looking from Steve to Mr Harrington as she offered them an apologetic smile.

‘I’m sorry.’ She said defeated. ‘Give us a few minutes with her. I am so embarrassed about her behaviour.’ She laughed nervously as she stood up, looking from father to son and cursing the day she said she wished to have an opinionated daughter.

‘She’s not usually like this, Steve.’ She proceeded as she smiled to the little boy. ‘I promise.’

‘Please come for dinner this evening.’ Said your dad then. You looked up at him with a frown on your face. Today was supposed to be pizza night. Another thing that this stupid Steve had taken from you. ‘We’ve been living in this neighbourhood since we got married, I wouldn’t like you to feel unwelcomed just because… Well…’

Your dad looked down at you, still with your arms crossed and determined not to apologise for what you had done.

Mr Harrington’s laugh made you all look back at him. Steve looked at his father too, shaking his head with a smile of the defeat before giving your parents an understanding look.

‘She’s got character, your little one.’ He said looking at you for the first time. You finally grew shy then, moving to hide behind your dad’s legs as you felt the heat rushing to your cheeks. ‘She’s gonna make it far.’

That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Not between you and Steve, no. No matter how many playdates your parents arranged, or how many times you were invited to the Harrington’s and Steve to yours, you never seemed to get along and you’d probably never will. But the more your despise for each other grew, the closer your families became.

Every winter there were fights about the pond. At first, they were appeased by your dad, who offered to play hockey with Steve while you skated when his parents couldn’t. On other occasions, it was Mr Harrington who agreed to arrange a new routine for you as long as you remained polite and respectful of Steve’s time on the pond.

Through the years you heard him tell your father many times during dinner, that you should go professional, that you had potential. But you never failed to interject in the conversation and remind Mr Harrington that your mind was set on dancing, and though skating was a beautiful discipline, you weren’t interested in the elitism of sports. Steve’s dad would take a deep breath and give you a smile of defeat, as he had always done, before asking his son to pass him the salad.

It worked like that all through primary and middle school. Until you and Steve became too old to push each other every time there were disputes about the coveted body of water. But then ambition brought subtle changes: Steve started waking up extra early to practice before school, then you’d come back from rehearsals in the evening and changed your ballet shoes for the skates. Peace had been restored, and despite the occasional quarrel, it worked. Until Steve got injured.

It didn’t happen in the pond, but one Friday evening in Hawkin’s ice rink while he was at hockey practice. A bad fall, a crack and suddenly there was a femur fracture, a knee dislocation and three months in bed that cost him his place at college. He couldn’t play anymore.

So, the pond ended up being all yours that winter, just like you predicted years ago, and the tension faded away, almost forgotten. The forced interactions decreased as Steve started working in Starcourt on the weekends and you had to train harder in the dance studio. Then he moved to Family Video and you saw him even less, only when you’d walk into the Harrington’s house when his parents had invited yours for dinner, and he’d be kissing his mom goodbye.

Other times you simply didn’t have the energy to join anyone downstairs, or you stayed at the studio until late. Life got in the way sometimes, but you always, without exception, found some time to put your skates on and go on the ice for a while.

And despite his injury, so did Steve.

‘Look who’s here.’ He said that evening when you appeared still wearing your baby blue leotard and your translucent skirt, only a scarf and legwarmers to protect you from the early December cold.

He wasn’t on his own, and you hated that even more, giving him an unwelcoming smile as you started sliding casually around the ice. While you had always been consistent with your friendships, Steve seemed to change friends every damn season.

First it was Carol and Tommy, sometime around that he started dating Nancy Wheeler. After the incident, he started hanging around with this Robin that somehow needed to be invited to every single family dinner, and along with her there was a group of pre-teens that idolized him. Then it was Eddie Munson, and somewhere along the way there was Nancy again with Jonathan Byers. And today they all seemed happy to come to your pound to smoke weed or skate mediocrely or whatever thing they had planned. And all you needed was some time alone to think.

‘Hey Ice Princess!’ Nancy greeted you from her place next to Jonathan’s car. She was more enthusiastic than usual, and you assumed by her heavy eyelids that she was either drunk or high.

‘Hi.’ You said shyly as you slowed your pace.

‘Hey, do you want a beer?’ Eddie Munson’s voice made you stop in your tracks. You looked from him to Steve before giving him a polite smile and shaking your head.

‘No, thanks.’ You said. ‘I just had rehearsals and I’m tired.’

‘How’s the dancing going?’ Nancy asked, taking a sip of the glass bottle before cleaning her mouth with the back of her hand.

‘It’s going okay.’ You shrugged before smiling and resuming your workout, thinking that maybe now they’d leave you in peace.

It didn’t last long until you heard a very distinctive noise behind you, the familiar scratch of a pair of skates that you’d recognise anywhere.

‘Hey, bratty.’ Steve said as you both kept skating at comfortable distance. ‘What are you doin’ tonight?’

‘This.’ You simply said as you kept skating without giving him the satisfaction of acknowledging the nickname or even look at him.

‘I’m having a party at mine.’ He said catching up with you and skating besides you. ‘Do you wanna come?’

‘Not really.’ You said still looking at the ice in front of you before you looked over your shoulder. ‘Slow down.’

‘I’m fine.’ He brushed it off, but he still had to put one of his hands on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. ‘Why not?’

‘I’ve got training to do tomorrow, and I don’t like dancing hungover.’ You finally stopped when you started hearing his agitated breathing, rolling onto your skates to finally face him. ‘Steve, you could hurt yourself like this.’

A smile slowly formed on his face as he looked back at you.

‘What’s up with you tonight?’ He said amused.

‘Nothing’s up with me.’ You crossed your arms, studying his face. ‘Are you drunk?’

‘Are you drunk?’ He mocked you. ‘D’you ever hear yourself?’

‘Right.’ You started skating away, but though Steve wasn’t as agile as before, you remembered how strong he still was when he caught your forearm.

‘Wait.’ He said, laughing as he softly pulled you backwards. ‘Okay,okay,okay. I wanna know how your audition was.’

You stood still as you looked back at him, curious brown eyes searching for an answer in yours, the heat rushing to your cheeks in a matter of seconds as you fixed your skirt.

‘How do you know about that?’ You said more shyly than you intended.

‘Your mom doesn’t stop talking about it.’ He rolled his eyes with a silly smile that fell from his face the more his eyes studied you. He swallowed hard for a second, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath then, his semblance turning serious out of sudden. ‘Nobody fucking stops talking about you.’

You nodded once, looking away from him as he let go of your arm, or you slowly pull it away, you weren’t sure.

‘Have fun, Steve.’ You said softly before skating away.

‘Jesus, mom!’ You screamed as soon as you walked through the threshold of your home. ‘You almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing?’

Your mother stood on the entrance, wearing her pyjamas and holding a pair of jeans and one of your favourite tops while she looked apologetically at you.

‘I’m holding the clothes I need you to change to so you can go and stay at the Harrington’s tonight.’

It took you a second to process her words before you could speak again.

‘What?’

‘Well, Steve came here earlier…’

‘Of course he did.’ You rolled your eyes as you walked past her.

‘He said his parents are away tonight and he’s having a little party! And he was so sweet and polite about it as usual. He asked if I could keep an eye on them and told me he wanted to invite you too.’

You let out a scoff-like laugh as you walked into the kitchen to get a glass of juice.

‘Wow. He’s good.’ You said bitterly to yourself. ‘He’s really good.’

‘Honey,’ Your mother said with an accusing tone as she rested against the kitchen’s door. ‘You’ve been training a lot lately, and I think it’d do you some good to hang out with friends—People your age.’ She corrected herself as soon as you gave her an annoyed look.

‘Listen, mom.’ You said pouring some juice on a glass. ‘I hate to burst your bubble, but Steve didn’t invite me because he’s sweet and polite. He invited me so you wouldn’t tell his parents. They’re getting high, and drunk and—’

‘And you’re here talking to your mother.’

You took a deep breath, shaking your head before drinking the juice.

‘I’m not going.’ You said before leaving the kitchen to climb up the stairs. ‘Oh, and by the way, auditions were good. Thanks for asking.’

You heard your mom sigh behind you as you made you way to your room.

‘I told Linda.’

‘What?’ Your peeked over the banister to look back at her. ‘You called his mom?’

‘Of course I did.’ She said. ‘What kind of mother do you think I am? I’d like her to call me if you were having a party while I’m away.’

‘That’s dirty, mom.’ You accused her as you walked down the few steps you climbed, standing in front of her with a face of disbelief. ‘That’s mean as fuck even if it’s Steve we’re talking about.’

‘Which is why I promised her you would stay with them tonight.’  She said stroking your arms.

‘Cause I’m so responsible.’ You mocked her with disbelief all over your face.

‘Well…’

You couldn’t say anything, your jaw open and a hysterical frown taking over your face as you looked back at her.

‘You’re a psycho.’

‘Don’t be dramatic.’

‘You are. A psycho.’ You took a step back as you moved your hands in the air. ‘Why do you need this woman’s approval so badly?’

‘Now don’t be mean, honey.’ She said putting a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘Linda and I are just really good friends. Like you and Barb before she moved away. We want the same for you and Steve.’

‘Well, that’s not really easy, is it!’ You said lifting your hands in the air, feeling suddenly hurt at the name of your best friend. ‘Not with all the ass kissing that goes on in this house!’

‘Honey!’

‘Oh. My god.’ You said taking another step back. ‘Like, really. Joint dinners every week, Mr Harrington practically living on our couch to watch the baseball, and then it’s football at theirs every Sunday. Labor’s Day, 4th of July, Thanksgiving. Like every fucking thing is with the Harrington’s involved! Are you guys like swingers or something? Can’t you do something normal like having a book club where nobody reads and get drunk every now and then at the diner?’

Your mom stood quietly in front of you, shocked and processing your words before the sound of the bell dissipated the tension. You stood on the bottom of the stairs, clenching your jaw as she walked to open the door.

He had changed, and probably sprayed something to cover the scent of weed and beer, because you could smell bergamot from where you were.

‘Just came to pick up the Ice Princess.’ Steve said.

‘Ew, don’t call me that.’ You said stepping down. You gave your mom a severe stare as she got lost on the living room with a smile painted all over her face.

‘I like it, ‘s got a ring to it, you know? Nancy’s really good with nicknames.’

‘Do you need a toothbrush, honey?’ She asked offering your dance bag. ‘I put the change of clothes inside for you.’

‘No, I’ve got one, thanks.’ You said with a straight face before looking at Steve. ‘Come on. I need to get out of here.’

‘I don’t know why you’re so mean to your mom.’  He said as you walked past the pond together. He had sobered up somehow, the weird mood he had shown earlier completely gone, leaving the indifferent Steve you knew so well behind.

‘It’s a mother-daughter thing.’ You shrugged. ‘You wouldn’t get it.’

‘C’mon.’ He pushed your arm with his, and you frowned just a little at his sudden friendliness, but he didn’t seem to notice. ‘She adores you. Everyone in this town does.’

You looked down to the snowy ground, not particularly flattered by his comment, but thoughtful about what he had said before. Apparently, people in Hawkins talked about you, saw you. This wasn’t a big town, but with the results of the auditions coming out tomorrow, you wished for once to be tiny and invisible.

‘I just can’t stand her sometimes.’ You admitted out loud. ‘She’s too friendly.’

He let out a snorty laugh. Dry, and so very spiteful that you couldn’t help but look back at him with a frown.

‘Or you’re too cold.’ He concluded as you made it to his front porch.

You didn’t say anything else while he opened the door, following behind. Without Steve’s parents around, the house acquired a desolated, almost ghostly atmosphere. Linda Harrington always made sure that there were flowers in the vases, that there was lightning everywhere, that the kitchen always smelled like raisin bread and coffee.

You peeped through the living room’s entrance to find Steve’s friends all curled up on the couch, hypnotised by the TV while cans of beer and boxes of pizza were scattered on the floor. Nancy’s blue eyes found yours and her lips lifted softly in a drunken smile.

‘You came!’ She said softly.

‘Hi, guys.’ You said shyly as you took a step inside. ‘What are you watching?’

‘Uhm,’ Nancy stretched on the couch before she realised Robin was fully asleep on her shoulder. ‘The Exorcist?’

‘That’s over now.’ Said Eddie amused at Nancy’s state of drunkenness. ‘We’re watching The Nanny now.’

‘The Nanny.’ You repeated as you looked at the TV before your eyes fell back on them.

‘Ya wanna join’ us?’ Said Nancy as she tried to sit down properly. ‘Uhm, tell Steve to bring you a blanket.’

‘She gets really affectionate when she’s high.’ Said Jonathan with a smile.

You opened your mouth to say something, when you heard an unusual thud upstairs. You looked back at them, wondering if only you had heard it, but they all seemed too high and sleepy to even notice.

‘I see.’ You looked down to your shoes before taking a deep breath. This was going to be a long night. ‘I’m gonna check on Steve. To see where ‘m sleeping and stuff.’

‘Sure, Ice Princess.’ Nancy said with a giggle. It should’ve tendered you or you should’ve at least found it funny, but somewhere inside you felt bad. As if she was mocking you in some way you weren’t aware of.

You climbed the stairs quietly, having been in this house so many times before since you were a child. Knowing exactly where they kept towels, what step cracked if you pressed on the right spot, what colours the walls were five years ago before they modernised the place.

You made it upstairs with your bag still on you, wondering if you should just sneak into the guests’ room or maybe remind Steve that you had to wake up early for practice tomorrow. Your train of thought was about to take you somewhere else when you heard another thud, this time less loud, followed by a whine.

‘Steve?’ You softly called before pushing the door of his room to find him sitting on the floor, a painful frown taking over his face as he held his knee against his chest.

‘Jesus, are you okay?’ You said kneeling next to him. ‘What do you need? Where does it hurt?’

‘S just my knee.’ He said under his breath. ‘It’s fine. It’ll go away.’

‘Let me help—’

‘Get the fuck out of here.’ He said clenching his jaw.

‘Fuck no.’ You said sitting better. ‘This was your idea, remember? Now shut up and let me handle this.’

‘I don’t need you to handle— Uh.’ He moaned in pain again. ‘F-Fuck.’

You started to feel hot under your layers, but you still found the nerve to put Steve’s arm around your neck and squat next to him.

‘Put your weight on your other foot.’ You instructed. ‘I’m lifting you in …1 …2 …’

And then swiftly, you lifted him so he could sit on the bed. You heard him complain under his breath again, but at least he wasn’t on the floor anymore and you could help him more easily from here.

He observed you as you breathed heavily by the effort, lifting his other leg along the bed and as a result, making his whole body move until he was safely laying on the bed. Steve stood silently, a bit in shock, looking at you as you got rid of your scarf and jacket, before walking towards the door.

‘M just gonna get some ice.’

You blinked away your tears on the way downstairs, feeling flushed and a bit confused about why you were this emotional. But there was this recurring thought, echoing through your head saying Steve, Steve, Steve. He was supposed to go places.

You poured a glass of water in the kitchen, hearing the distant sounds of the TV in the living room while you drank it slowly. In the freezer you found not one, but about three different types of compresses, and you took the biggest one.

Something took over you then, and you were suddenly moving automatically. You checked that the back door was locked as well as the front door. You took an extra blanket from the cupboard and covered an asleep Eddie with it before taking the remote from his hand and turning the TV off. You did the same with the lights and climbed upstairs, before taking a clean towel to wrap the icy compress with.

Steve’s leg was still flat on the bed, but he was now sitting more comfortably against the headrest, waiting for you. He wasn’t particularly grateful or relieved to see you come back, but you weren’t happy to be here anyways.

He took the compress you offered and leaned in to place it on his knee, and another hissing sound of pain came out from his lips when he did. You stood there for a second until you realised you were staring, and before he realised too, you started to untie your hair.

‘Am I sleeping here?’ You said taking a wool sweater out of your bag and pulling it down over your leotard.

He shrugged.

‘Your friends don’t mind?’ You pressed, looking at him with a straight face. ‘Your little girlfriend?’

‘Nancy’s not my girlfriend.’ He said with indifference.

‘M talking ‘bout the other one.’ You said walking around the bed to find a place on the opposite side.

‘Robin’s not my girlfriend either.’ He said in the same tone as you got inside the sheets.

‘Wow.’ You said sarcastically as you made yourself comfortable. ‘Talk about being bitchless.’

‘They actually think we’re sleeping together.’ You heard him say as you closed your eyes.

‘As if.’ You replied, trying to get cosy in this bed that smelled like bergamot and boy, and Steve.

‘Wouldn’t kill you to moan a little for the sake of my reputation.’ He joked, and this time you actually laughed. It was a subtle thing, but loud enough to make him smile to himself.

Steve stood there, waiting for the pain to pass as you dozed off. It had been a long day, after all. Training from five, then driving to the city and waiting the whole day to be seen for the audition.

‘I’ll drive you to the studio tomorrow morning.’ He said.

You stayed quiet for a while, and he thought maybe you had fallen asleep already. But really you were wondering why he couldn’t just give up and say thank you like a normal person. Thank you for staying. Thank you for helping. Things always had to be so complicated with Steve.

‘You don’t have to do that.’ You said after a while.

‘I want to.’ He simply said before turning the light of his bedside table off and placing his back against the wall to sleep like he had so many times before.

A few hours later you were woken up by something warm on your face. You leaned in for a second, giving in to the soft fingertips that brushed your cheekbone, before they were gone too soon.

‘C’mon.’ Something pushed your leg softly. ‘You don’t wanna be late.’

You growled softly, feeling your body aching in ways it hadn’t in months. Maybe you should’ve left the studio a bit earlier yesterday, or maybe you should’ve skipped skating after such a long day.

Stretching, you opened your eyes slowly to find Steve standing next to you, his eyebrows lifting softly at the sight in front of him. You stayed there for a while, looking at each other, before you looked to your side to find the sky was still dark.

‘What time is it?’

‘Four.’ He said. ‘Where are you training today?’

You took your hands to your face, growling softly before you decided to sit down properly.

‘In the city.’ You said still quite sleepy.

He nodded once. ‘I’ll get the car ready.’

‘Kay.’ You said trying to convince yourself to get up. Only then you noticed he had changed already, and his hair was wet as if he had just taken a shower. ‘How’s your knee?’

Your question seemed to make him uncomfortable, as he scratched the back of his neck looking away from you. But that was normal, Steve’s injury had always been a forbidden subject. Only then you thought that he had probably been drunker than he had let on last night.

‘S good now.’ He simply said before moving to walk towards the door. ‘I’ll wait for you downstairs, yeah?’

‘Sure.’ You said, before he left you all alone in his room.

Hawkins was beautifully quiet in a way it could only be during this time of the year, showered by the atmosphere of sadness, nostalgia and desolation that winter often hid during Christmas time. Steve seemed to understand this pretty well, because he didn’t speak or even turned the radio on as you left the town behind, and the sun started rising.

‘When do you find out if you got the role?’ He said as he parked outside the theatre. You saw the way his eyes lingered on the intimidating building behind you as you opened the door.

‘Today.’ You were trying to be a big girl and pretend you weren’t nervous, but you swallowed hard as you took the heavy bag with you, switching the subject as you stepped out of the car. ‘Thanks for driving me.’

‘Thanks for staying.’ He said in the same plain tone. ‘What time should I pick you up?’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that.’ You stood up awkwardly on the pavement while the door was still open. ‘I’ll call dad and ask him to pick me up.’

The frown that took over his face made you feel stupid out of sudden.

‘Your dad’s away fishing.’ He seemed amused at your cluelessness. ‘With my dad? For the fundraising dinner?’

‘That’s tonight?’ You complained with a whine, fighting the need of stepping your foot on the floor. ‘I thought that was next week! Why can’t they just donate some money or just buy the fish like normal people do?’

‘Well,’ He started patiently, ‘Given is an event for the Fishing Association I guess there has to be some fishing involved, you know—’

You interrupted him with a sound of irritation, climbing on the passenger’s seat again and closing the door behind you.

‘Okay. We need to talk, Steve.’

‘Talk?’ He chuckled, sitting back on his seat to have a better look at you.

‘This whole thing between our parents?’ You started. ‘This is like, toxic. It’s sickening, actually.’

‘Sickening.’ He repeated with an amused smile.

‘Why do they need to do everything together?’ You complained. ‘It’s like— God, like there’s no privacy between our families. I can’t remember when was the last time I walked into my house on a Friday evening and I had my parents all to myself.’

Steve lifted his eyebrows then, looking visibly uncomfortable as he scratched the space behind his ear.

‘Uh, have you tried having actual plans on Friday nights?’

You sighed loudly, fighting the need to roll your eyes as you sat on your side.

‘You know I’m right.’

‘Actually—’

‘It’s forced.’ You said stretching the word. ‘It’s just not the fact that they can’t stay away from each other but how they force us to be there too.’

Steve took a deep breath as he sat better on the seat, looking through the windshield as he considered your words.

‘What?’ You finally said after a while.

‘I mean, you’re never really there, are you?’ He finally said.

‘What do you mean?’ You pushed his arm. Though it was demanding, it had been a soft, innocent gesture. Yet you noticed the way he sat better on the seat after it, as if your impulsiveness hadn’t pleased him very much.

‘Well, last week it was the bake sale. And the week before that we all went bowling, even Robin was there.’ 

You rolled your eyes at the mention of Steve’s friend.

‘Hey.’ His voice had turned firm as he started losing his patience with you. ‘All I’m saying is that maybe you’re exaggerating a bit. The only reason they—’ He started saying, but he seemed to be unsure of how to proceed. ‘Well, you know…’

‘What?’ You pressed, feeling the heat rush to your face and even your scalp was turning warm while you crossed your arms over your chest. ‘Say it, Steve.’

‘Maybe it’s been suggested that you don’t do anything other than skating and training since Barb moved away.’

‘So I get a pity invitation because I don’t have any friends?’

‘I didn’t say that.’ He let out a frustrated sigh.

‘You didn’t have to.’ You said in the same tone. ‘Yeah, I miss Barb, whatever, but that’s not reason why I’m not willing to join the circus every weekend. I’m working. Hard. For this.’

‘You are.’ He said, looking through the windshield as you stared at him, challenging him to disagree with you. ‘But you’re… You’re too strict, I’ve seen you, you— You don’t breathe.’

‘I do. Breathe. Steve.’ You said feeling more desperate every second you entertained this argument. ‘But I’m not just competing physically, there’s— There’s the girls whose parents have contacts, the ones that went to dance school— Do you know what it’s like to be surrounded by people whose lifestyle only consists of eating once a day?’

He scoffed then. You had to sit back on the seat with the sudden discomfort of feeling arrogant or vain, irritated at the fact that he wasn’t taking you seriously at all.

‘Get out of my car.’ He snapped.

You stayed there just for a second, wondering if he was joking. But one of the worst things about having grown up with Steve Harrington, was the involuntary understanding you both had of each other’s character.

You squinted your eyes as you tried to read him, and it took you a few seconds of studying him. Of really looking at him, to realise. The nervous movement of his leg, the way he looked through the windshield, his hand instinctively rubbing his leg over his jeans, where you knew there was a scar.

‘You, more than anyone else, know what it’s like to want something so much you get scared of losing it before you even have it.’ You felt the anger rising and the frustration growing as you spoke. ‘The difference is that you lost it, and I won’t.’

And just like that, you grabbed the bag and left his car before he could say something back.

The guilt set on your chest like a heavy rock the whole time you were warming up. It stayed there when you broke through the anxious bodies of the other determined ballerinas to have a look at the board where the roles for the winter production were displayed. It didn’t leave you when you started your training, when you switched from pirouettes to fouettes, and it certainly didn’t stop haunting you as you looked at yourself in the mirror, carefully repeating grand adages until you couldn’t feel your toes anymore.

You were late to the fundraising dinner, but you hoped, you prayed that your parents would be too drunk to reproach you. The soft roar of the taxi’s engine got lost behind you as you walked through the many cars parked outside, climbing the steps of your house and hoping for the best.

There was laughter and music coming from the living room, your cheeks going from freezing to warm as soon as you closed the door behind you. The first few seconds where nobody noticed you were comforting, until Steve’s silhouette appeared through the living room’s entrance.

He was wearing a green sweater over his shirt, and a full glass of wine was on his hand when his eyes looked at you with curious amusement. You were aware that your pride would only make things worse, but there was no part of you that wished to apologise right now.

You were about to move towards the stairs when he walked first, standing in front of the first step. Repressing a sigh, you had no other option but to face him.

‘How were rehearsals?’

‘They were good.’ You simply said before walking past him to climb the stairs.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you heard him follow behind you.

‘Did you get the part?’

‘I got a part.’ You said as you opened the door to your room. ‘I’m very pleased with it.’

You thought that would be enough to keep him away, that he would give up. But as you absentmindedly got rid of your shoes and walked towards your window to close the blind, you heard the door of your room closing.

‘Do you mind!?’ You said as you turned around, finding Steve standing against the closed door, hands inside his pockets and the same unbearably amused stare on you.

‘Not really.’

You shook your head and decided to ignore him, grabbing the dress your mother had picked for you from the closet, still feeling his eyes on you as you did so.

‘Do you want me to have a look at that?’

When you looked up his eyes were on your feet, the bloody bandages wrapped around each one of your toes making you feel way too self-aware.

‘No.’ You hid your eyes from him before walking into the bathroom.

You took another deep breath as you felt him move around your room while you quickly got rid of your leotard. Somehow his calm was frustrating you, his lack of pride had you overthinking about all the different ways in which he could get back at you tonight.

He was looking around your room when you walked out fully dressed. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way he studied your posters while you slipped on a couple of mary janes, because you couldn’t bother to change the bandages just now and nobody would want to look at those.

You sat in front of your vanity then, swiftly starting to get rid of the bobby pins around your hair bun as you kept an eye on him through the mirror. He seemed chill, he seemed unbothered, it was killing you. Your gaze lingered on him easily through the mirror, leaving his empty wine glass aside as he took a book from your shelf and eyed it casually.

The heat rushed to your cheeks when he looked back to find you staring. You looked down quickly as your hands moved clumsily, your hair tangling a bit as you kept working.

He moved without you having to ask, standing behind you to help you get rid of the tangled pins, your fingers progressively giving up until his took over delicately.

He worked in silence, and you stood there, thinking about a time where your mother used to brush your hair before practice, those days were you still had ballet classes with Miss Cécile. She had left Hawkins years ago now, to retire somewhere far, somewhere in Europe.

‘There’s no hard feelings, by the way.’ He said as he placed the last pins on top of your vanity.

‘Hm?’ Your eyes were fixed on your reflection as you brushed your hair, making sure you remained expressionless as he placed his hands on the wooden surface of the vanity. You could feel the warmth of his body, the softness of his sweater on your back as his bergamot cologne surrounded you.

‘About today.’ There seemed to be some satisfaction behind his tone, but you didn’t want to acknowledge how much his indifference annoyed you. ‘I forgive you.’

You stood then, fighting the need to clench your jaw as you walked towards the door.

‘I didn’t say I was sorry.’

The dinner started as it always did. Because your parents were hosting, your father gave a little thank you speech before everyone sat down. You and Steve sat on opposite sides of the table as people started passing the fish. He let a discreet chuckle out when you wrinkled your nose at the sight of some of the dishes, but you ignored him, focusing on acting as a good host and kindly helping the rest of the guests.

People started to talk and joke, conversations about the town, the upcoming holidays or, well, fishing dominated the table while you stayed quiet. The tiredness of the day was heavy on your shoulders and neck, even your eyelids were a bit heavy.

You tried to sit straighter in an attempt to wake up, wishing you could’ve spent at least half an hour skating outside to bring your energy back, when Mr Harrington addressed you from the other side of the table.

‘Hm!’ He cleaned his mouth with the napkin as you waited to hear what he had to say. ‘How was your audition yesterday?’

‘Uh, it was good.’ You nodded shyly.

‘Did you get a good part, honey?’ Mrs Harrington next to him asked.

You stood quiet for a second, avoiding your parents’ gaze on the other end of the table as you tried to choose your words carefully. All the guests stared at you expectantly, and for a second you were speechless, even helpless, until you felt a subtle touch on your ankle.  

You lifted your eyes to find Steve’s brown gaze already on you. A bit softer than usual, you couldn’t help but swallow hard when the tip of his leather shoe ventured upward to stroke your shin. He lifted his eyebrows subtly, an encouraging sign that brought you back to Earth quickly.

‘Yeah, uhm…’ You shyly played with the drops that fell from your wine glass before looking back at Mr Harrington. ‘Yeah, I did. I, uh… I’m going to play Odette.’ You chuckled nervously. ‘And Odile too, of course.’

‘Oh my God!’ Said Mrs Harrington. ‘Sweetie, that’s amazing.’

‘Congratulations.’ Said Mr Harrington, followed by a few more alike comments from the guests next to you.

You dad winked at you from the other side of the table. There was a sweet smile on his face, you knew he was proud. What you couldn’t understand was why he wouldn’t just say it.

‘That’s wonderful news.’ Your mother agreed with a soft smile. ‘We shall have a little toast after dinner.’

You looked down to your plate, biting the sarcastic smile on your face as you grabbed your glass of wine.

‘After dinner.’

Maybe Steve was the only one who heard you repeat your mother’s words before you took a sip of the drink while the conversation around resumed. He was the one who saw the way you bit the inside of your cheek as the fishing subject arose again, searching for your eyes while his foot kept stroking your leg.

He abruptly lost you a few seconds after, as you crossed your legs under the table, leaning towards Mrs Miller next to you to ask her if she needed any salt for the sprouts.

There was no toast after dinner, just a dessert that you politely declined with the excuse of a headache. Wine glasses kept being refilled, Christmas music played louder, and when everyone moved onto the living room you took the opportunity to sneak away in your bedroom’s direction.

Once you made it upstairs, the sight of Steve coming out of the hallway’s toilet made you stop in your tracks for a second.

‘Downstairs was taken.’ He said before turning off the light.

You nodded once as he walked towards where you stood. He was supposed to go back to the party, and you were supposed to get in bed, but all he could do was stand in front of you with his hands inside his pockets.

‘What if,’ he said before nodding on your bedroom’s direction. You lifted your eyebrows with an unamused semblance. ‘I steal a bottle of wine, and you save me from another conversation about seabass.’

There was still a trace of the charm that had worked for him during High School on his face, his adolescent confidence always took over him after a few drinks. But now those traces faded away much more easily; he took a deep breath as he rolled his eyes and looked down at his shoes.

‘Dad just keeps introducing me to these friends of him.’ He looked up at you. ‘He wants me to beg for a job in finance.’

You chuckled before shaking your head no, but the proposal was still tempting. Your limbs were tired. You hadn’t gotten properly drunk in forever. Your eyes were still on him as you started walking towards your room.

‘Just get something stronger, would you?’

You got rid of your shoes before climbing on top of your covers. It was relieving to feel free to stretch your toes, and flex your feet soles, and crack your ankles. Looking at the ceiling, your started remembering today’s steps in your mind. The passé, the relevé and then…

‘What are you doing, you weirdo?’ Steve said when he walked into the room with a bottle of whisky and two glasses.

You shrugged when he closed the door with his foot. Sitting up, you observed in silence how he poured a bit of the dark amber liquid on the glasses.

‘Just… revising, I guess.’ You took the glass he was offering you.

You took a sip as he shook his head in disapproval. The liquid burnt your throat, but it made you warm and it awakened you, while Steve downed the drink fully before sitting next to you and pulling your legs up to his lap.

You frowned, but instead of saying something you just took another sip of the whiskey.

He carefully started to remove the bandages, frowning painfully at the sight of your poor blistered and bloody toes. You observed him in silence, completely numb to the pain on your feet but entertained by his clear distress as he piled the bandages at the end of the bed, rubbing the bridge of your feet in the process.

‘So…’ He started.

He wouldn’t look back at you as you waited for him to speak.

‘So?’ You finally said.

‘What’s the name of that character you’re playing on the show?’

‘Characters.’ You corrected. ‘Odette and Odile are traditionally played by the same ballerina.’

‘Hm.’ he said as he got lost in his thoughts. You waited for him to say something else, but he just kept massaging your feet.

‘Hm?’ You repeated searching for his eyes. ‘What does that mean?’

‘Nothing.’ He shrugged. ‘Sounds like quite a demanding role.’

‘It is.’ You recognised. ‘We’ve got about three weeks of rehearsals. Opening night’s on Christmas Eve.’

‘Three weeks.’ He repeated humorously. ‘That’s impressive.’

You clenched your jaw in silence before removing your legs off his lap and moving to lay on your side.

‘Hey,’ He laughed behind you as you faced the window. His hand stroked your leg playfully from your ankle upwards, but you kicked him before it could sneak under the skirt of your dress. ‘C’mon, bratty—'

‘Don’t call me that.’ You said squirming and hugging the pillow under your bed. ‘I should’ve known you’d make fun of me. You don’t understand anything.’

‘Aw, c’mon.’ You felt his body fall on the space behind you before his arms wrapped around your waist. His bergamot scent invaded your lugs, and before you could help it you were taking a deep breath. ‘Don’t get mad at me.’

You turned around on the bed, facing him with a serious frown on your face. You’d never been this close to Steve or had even touched him like this. His cheeks were so red it looked as if he had a fever, and his eyelids were heavy as he looked down at you with an amused smile.

‘You’re drunk.’ You simply said.

‘And you’re warm.’ He said with the same stupid smile, his fingers brushed the skin on your back as he pulled you towards him.

You stayed very still as his head leaned in, and for a second you thought he’d might kiss you, but instead he just innocently hid his nose on your neck.

‘You’re so warm.’ He whispered to himself. Your hands hovered on your sides before you lifted an arm and slowly rested your hand on his neck, diving your fingers on his hair to stroke his scalp softly. He seemed to like that, by the little noise that left his mouth when his body melted against yours. ‘M so proud of you.’

It was the softest thing, barely a whisper, but still you heard it. You swallowed hard as he made himself more comfortable, sighing deeply as he started dozing off and you were more awake than you’d ever been in your life.

‘Steve.’ You called as you softly pushed his shoulder to have a better look at him. ‘Don’t fall asleep. C’mon, wake up.’

‘I’m awake.’ He said lazily while his eyes remained closed. You rolled your eyes before pushing his shoulder with a bit more of strength, and that finally made him look back at you. ‘I’m awake! Fuck, I’m awake. Jesus Christ, you really like hitting me, don’t you?’

‘Well, you earn it quite easily, you stupid idiot— Why are you laughing?’

He took a deep breath as he looked back at you with the same annoying smile. The silence was tense as he stretched slowly, never taking his eyes off you while you were still so close you could feel the warmth of his skin underneath the layers.

‘Can I touch you?’ He suddenly asked. It wasn’t blunt, really, just a bit unexpected as his eyes lingered on your dress before they looked up at your face again.

The heat rushed to your cheeks immediately, and that angered you in ways that you refused to acknowledge as you looked back at him.

‘Touch me?’ You repeated softly, almost offended as you slightly moved back. ‘Touch me how?’

Your eyes never left his as he took another deep breath and the hand he rested on your waist drew a trace down the curve of your hip. You stood very still as his hand slid under your dress, fearing that any move you could possibly make would ruin the tension and spoil the excitement you were feeling right now. This was wrong, it was Steve, for God’s sake,but—

‘Like this.’ He whispered when his thumb stroked your upper thigh, so very close from your centre. Then his hand tentatively stroked the hem of your underwear, before it confidently found the warmth of your crotch over the fabric. ‘Here.’

You let out a choky breath as his fingers wandered, stroking softly, as if he was getting to know you. You remained on the same position, not quite opening your legs for him but trying to understand where was all this coming from.

‘Why?’ You asked foolishly, still not able to show your real emotions. The anticipation, the excitement. You knew you were getting wet every second that his fingers brushed over your skin, and surely he did too, because the sides of his mouth were lifting slightly.

He shrugged, looking down at you as his fingers ventured a bit more daringly, finding shelter on that little, sweetly tight gap between your thighs. ‘You seem tense.’

You swallowed hard, clenching your jaw just slightly, because you didn’t know how not to be tense. You didn’t know how to not to be this: the perfectionistic, overachiever kid that everyone in town considered an uptight prissy. Just the thought made you even more anxious.

You looked down then, maybe reconsidering why he was doing this or if you were even cool enough to enjoy it, when he searched for your eyes. You only looked up when his nose brushed against yours, encouraging and so very patient.

‘Can I help?’ He asked softly, his fingers’ touch was even gentler now, almost soothing as he rubbed his fingers against your wet underwear.

You were unable to reply, either by the heat on your cheeks, the rising temperature of the rest of your body or the wet patch that was staining your panties by his sweet yet bold proposal.

So instead, you just opened your legs slightly. It seemed like such a simple gesture had a big effect on him, because when his palm was able to cup your pussy fully, his forehead fell softly on yours while a deep sigh came out of his mouth.

He looked at you carefully, his brown eyes studying yours as his hand played with the upper hem of your underwear. Unable to deal with the anticipation any longer, your own hand sneaked under the skirt to start pulling the soaked fabric. As if your initiative was relieving, he pulled the other side down to your knees, always keeping his eyes on you. Always careful that he was doing the right thing, that you weren’t just yielding.

Then his hand made contact with your warm, sticky, skin. All those nerves sensitive and tender just for him, and something impulsive took over you as your head fell back by the pleasure. A guttural, helpless sound left your mouth when his fingers stroked your clit softly. His fingers were soaked by you, and yet it seemed like that wasn’t enough, by the way he ventured further until the base of his palm was rubbing against your core too.

You were maybe too responsive, your hands found his shoulders to hold on to him, pushing down while you moved your hips.

‘Moan.’ He whispered, it wasn’t an order, but it did feel as if he was giving you permission. Maybe he had noticed how hard you were trying not to be loud, by the way he chuckled softly. ‘I won’t judge. Wanna hear you.’

You shook your head softly, shutting your eyes hard as you repressed yet another whine.

His hand started moving a bit more enthusiastically, finding a circling pattern that excited you in a completely different way. The sudden stimulus made you release a choking breath, and only then, when he saw how your lips parted and your eyebrows arched, he leaned in.

Steve’s lips were surprisingly soft. Despite the strong taste of whiskey, despite the dislike you felt from each other, despite your limited experience, he was so very tender and soft.

This was maybe what messed up with your head, because all you had ever known when it came to Steve Harrington was determined roughness. Pushing his arm, rolling your eyes, laughing at him. And yet here was his delicate tongue tingling your palate; his sloppy lips sucking on yours, while his soft fingertips were buried deep in between your legs. And all you wanted to do was bite him.

And when you did, his hand started moving faster, his lips became much greedier. You moaned shamelessly, and the thought of being unable to be tender or sweet as him was starting to haunt you. It was impossible, you’d never be able to show this much need without fucking it up in the process. Not as he was. But did you have to?

‘Slow down.’ He said with a raspy voice when you grinded more violently against his hand. You dig your nails on his shoulder wishing you’d left marks on him, hoping that you were.

You were searching for that extreme, unreachable release. Daring to open your eyes, you looked right at him to let him see what you were capable of. With Steve, things had always been about proving yourself. His eyes had turned almost absent as he looked at you, the way you were almost convulsing on his hand, the contradiction of the anticipatory ectasis taking over your innocent face.

‘Slow. Down.’ He said between his teeth. This time it did sound like an order, worse than that, his voice had taken that tint from the day you caught him skating drunk.

He was mad at you, maybe, but you couldn’t care. One of your hands dived into his hair and you dared to pull a little bit, softly at first, but the more you moved the more you wanted to turn into a sweet mess on the palm of his hand. You wanted him to feel your pussy pounding, you wanted him to keep looking at you with those lost pupils. As if you were the only thing worth looking at in this cosy room, in this boring world.

Then you pulled harder, letting out an animalistic sound as you started feeling it from your belly. Hot and nice. His fingers were soaked, his skin so warm and eyes glossy as you kept looking back at him with challenging eyes.

‘Slow down, fuck.’ He repeated, the obscene noise of your hips moving and the mattress squeaking worsened the situation. ‘M tryin’ to—’  

You finally released a chocking breath as the walls of your pussy started pulsing, your breaths got mixed with little high-pitched noises, and the sweet orgasm hit you as you pulled his hair once again. This time shamelessly, and so carelessly you heard his chocked complaint in the distance.

The embarrassment rushed to your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath, looking down as he helped you lift your panties again. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as he unleashed from your embrace to lay on his back and you waited for something, anything. But he remained quiet, looking at the ceiling as a soft frown took over his face.

You licked your lips, half-confused, half-disappointed, before you turned your back towards him again. The sky was navy outside, but the snow made it all seem much brighter. You knew down there the frozen pond waited for you, and on the other side of it was Steve’s house, with his empty bed that waited for him.

But he wouldn’t make it, not tonight. A few minutes later, his arm wrapped around your waist. This time more carefully, and gentle. He pulled you in, and you let him. When his lap barely touched your ass, there wasn’t a trace of his excitement, and that somehow relieved you, confused you and offended you at the same time.

But you just stayed silent.

He took a deep breath while his nose dived in your hair and you let him. He fell asleep like this, in your bed, and you let him.

Steve was woken up by the sun on his face. He growled and stretched on the bed searching for a body that he knew had been laying next to him during the night, but the space next to him was empty.

When his eyes opened slightly, he recognised your room. The blue dress was on top of your desk and a towel drying on the chair next to the window. He took a deep breath, hugging the pillow where you head had been and rolling onto the other side to get a few more minutes of sleep.

It could’ve been a couple of hours later when he woke up out of sudden. He felt embarrassed and a bit disoriented as he sat up, realising that the sun was much lower than where it had been the first time he woke up.

You were still not in the room, but there was movement downstairs. He stood up from the bed to find the distant figure of your body skating outside. Steve stayed there, looking at you sliding around the pond elegantly, like a lonely swan swimming on a silver lake, and he thought about had happened last night.

The morning was quiet, the snow around the pond glistened and the cold winter sun tinted everything in your room with a blue hue as he stood there with his hands in his pockets, wondering how was it possible, that you could look so delicate from afar and then yet still be so rough whenever he touched you.

After a while, he made his way downstairs, feeling his stomach rumbling and his head pounding by the ghost of a hangover.

‘… Have no idea what to do with her.’ Steve heard the sound of your mother’s voice in the kitchen when he made it downstairs. ‘She doesn’t want to do things with me anymore. I feel… I feel weird. Like, I’m unwanted.’

Steve lingered on the corridor, not sure about why he was suddenly so interested in your parents’ conversation about you.

‘C’mon, honey, she’s just a bit reserved.’ Your dad started. ‘She’s always been… shy, and overly independent. Maybe you’re reading too much into this.’

‘You say that because you’ve always indulged her too much.’

‘Honey—’

‘You have. You do.’ She complained. ‘For her you’re the— the cool parent, the “chill dad”. I’m not. But what does that leave me with? She doesn’t want to do anything with me anymore! No Christmas shopping, or charity activities, or salon appointments… I used to be the one who went to try tutus with her, remember? She hasn’t even mentioned anything about that and I’m pretty sure she must know already when the appointment is—’

‘Honey,’ Your dad interjected again. ‘She’s an adult. You need to let her be.’

‘She’s playing Odette!’ She snapped. ‘She’s wanted to be Odette since before she even had pointe shoes, before she could even walk. And she doesn’t even want to celebrate with me, her mother.’

‘Just give her some time.’

‘Maybe I should’ve told Linda and Ronald not to ask her about it in front of everybody.’

Steve held a breath at the mention of his parents, wondering about what to do. If he should interfere, if anything he thought about the situation was important enough to argue.

‘Honey.’

‘They put her on the spotlight.’ She said. ‘That’s not good for her, she doesn’t know how to deal with it. And… maybe it wasn’t the right time.’

‘The right time for what?’ You dad asked.

‘I don’t know.’ She pondered in silence for a second. ‘For Steve. I mean, did you see his face when they mentioned it?’

Steve started walking loudly towards the living room then, making himself heard around the house as your parents suddenly turned silent.

‘Good morning.’ He said shyly as he walked into the kitchen. ‘I’m sorry I overslept; I didn’t mean to abuse my stay.’

‘Oh, good morning, honey.’ Said your mother with a smile as she took a sip of her coffee. ‘Don’t worry about it, you know this is your home.’

‘Do you want some breakfast, son?’ Asked your dad searching for a cup in the cupboard.

‘I’d, uh, love to.’ He admitted politely with a shy smile, he still didn’t know how he felt about your parents talking about him or his family. ‘But I have a shift starting in half an hour and I still need to shower and search for my vest.’

‘I’ll pack something for you, then.’ Said your dad without waiting for an answer.

Steve observed him grab a container, and before he could protest your dad was already filling it with scones.

‘Are we seeing you at dinner tonight?’ Your mother asked sweetly.

‘Uh…’ He couldn’t reject the scones that your parent handed him, feeling a bit uncomfortable out of sudden. Maybe you had been right, and all this friendship thing between them and his parents was getting a bit out of control. ‘Unfortunately, I close tonight. Robin’s taking the evening off. But I’ll be there next week.’

You dad tsked. ‘That’s a shame. It’s football night.’

‘S a pity, sir.’ Steve agreed, feeling he needed to leave the house soon, or he’d go crazy. ‘But I’ll be there next week.’

‘Have a good day, honey.’ Said your mom as he walked towards the kitchen’s door.

‘Thank you.’ He said without looking back before closing the door behind him.

You were still on the ice, and he wondered how long you had been there as he walked the distance towards his house in silence. The cold was burning his cheeks, and you were only wearing gloves and leg warmers over your leotard and tights.

He looked down at his feet when you spun on the ice flawlessly, and he couldn’t help but clench his jaw softly. Some things just came so easy to you, and he wasn’t really sure if you deserved them.

The first week of rehearsals went so quick that when you made it home on Friday night you could feel a knot in the pit of your stomach.

Training had been ruthless with your body and mind. You had thrown away your ballet shoes mid-week and replaced them with a new pair on Thursday, and no matter how long you had spent banging them against the floor, they still hadn’t been broken in. That was messing with your balance and the overall quality of your performance, it was driving you insane.

That’s why you couldn’t care less about having dinner at the Harrington’s as long as that meant that you were fed and in bed by eleven. You opened the door carefully, hearing the noise of cutlery and chatter as you dropped your bag on the entrance, got rid of your coat, and walked inside.

‘Hey!’ Mr Harrington was standing next to your parents, refilling their wine glasses with a bottle of Chardonnay. ‘Come in.’

‘Hi.’

Steve was sitting next to the only empty seat, and you were looking for Robin everywhere, but she didn’t seem to have been invited tonight. That somehow disappointed you as you stood next to your mom’s chair, smiling shyly at everyone.

‘Hi, sweetie.’ Said your father.

‘Was there lots of traffic?’ Asked your mother looking up at you. You were only about ten minutes late, but she didn’t seem very happy about it.

‘I had to make a quick stop at the mall to get some more tights.’ You explained simply without looking at her as you made your way towards the empty seat. ‘And then I went home to change.’

‘Have you tried on your costumes yet?’ Steve asked as soon as you sat down.

You placed the napkin on your lap as Mr Harrington poured some wine on your glass, wondering why he was asking that or why did he even care.

‘Not yet.’ You simply said, feeling your mother’s eyes on you. ‘They took my measurements today so the first fitting should be next week.’

‘Isn’t that too close from the show?’ Your mother asked, worried.

You shrugged as you grabbed a spoon to get some potato salad. Steve’s stare was on you, but you were too tired to indulge the awkwardness between you two. That and maybe the fact that you didn’t want to tell your mother the costumes were practically ready.

‘You need to let us know when the tickets go on sale.’ Proceeded Mrs Harrington. ‘I’d love to take my goddaughter with me, you know Maxine, right?’

You nodded politely as you took a bit of your food. ‘I know Max, yeah.’

‘We’ll she’s training with Dolly Higgens at the Hawkins theatre.’ She proceeded, putting her fork aside before she sat down better. ‘I know she’s no Miss Cécile, but I was wondering if you could give her some pointers for her Sleeping Beauty audition next Monday?’

‘Oh.’ You stayed quiet for a second before smiling. ‘I didn’t know she was auditioning for next season. She could’ve tried The Nutcracker.’

‘I think she was a bit intimidated by the idea.’ Mrs Harrington said, satisfied by your excitement. ‘But I told her about you, and she said she’d really appreciate it if you’d help her prepare for the audition. As long as that’s not a problem for you, honey. I know you’re very busy right now.’

‘It’s no problem.’ You giggled, excited for the first time in a long while. ‘Of course I’d like to.’

‘I told Steve he could drive you and Max to the city as a thank you for your help.’ She said satisfied. ‘That way I won’t feel like we’re taking time from you.’

‘Oh.’ This time you looked down, trying to conceal your discomfort. ‘That— I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’m just happy to help.’ You turned to Steve then. ‘You don’t need to do that.’

An uncomfortable silence took over the table then. Steve didn’t say anything as he extended a hand to grab his glass of wine. When you looked up, your dad hid his eyes from you while your mother cleaned her mouth and proceeded to ask Steve how his shift had been.

The dinner progressed as it usually did after that, but you felt a strange feeling of inadequacy as your parents talked about work and Steve complained about his manager Keith, and your mother started planning some new event for the town with Linda. Yet you still ate your food, said yes to dessert and listened absentmindedly.

‘Don’t worry about that, sweetie.’ Linda’s hands on your arms surprised you when you started taking the plates from the table. Everyone had moved to the living room, and you had thought that by helping, your parents might forgive you for leaving early. ‘I’ll get Steve to clean all this later tonight.’

You opened your mouth to say something, but she didn’t let you speak.

‘Why don’t you go upstairs to get those tapes Stevie got for you, huh? You go watch some movies together, we’re just gonna play a record and talk.’

Before you knew, you were leaving the living room feeling like she had probably dismissed you in a polite manner, but you weren’t sure if you were supposed to feel offended.

You climbed the stairs fighting the need to roll your eyes, wondering how things would’ve been if you had chosen college rather than sticking to dancing. You’d be having a normal life away from the Harrington’s and Hawkins, maybe your parents would miss you enough to visit you on weekends and you could just spend time as a family the way everyone else did.

The door to Steve’s room was briefly open, but you still knocked before coming in. In the darkness, your eyes lingered on the wall next to the door where once there had been hockey trophies and now there were framed pictures of his friends and piles of records and VHS tapes. You’d probably missed that detail last time you were here, when you had found him struggling with his knee on the same spot where he was sitting comfortably now. His eyes lifted when you closed the door behind you before they went back to the TV in front of him.

‘Your mom said you had some tapes for me?’ You asked shyly. ‘What was that about?’

‘They’re on my desk.’ He said without looking at you.

You bit your lip as you walked to the other side of the room where the desk was. On the surface there was a copy of the 1980’s production of Swan Lake by the New York City Ballet, where Merrill Ashley had played the lead. The other one was a version from 1975 by the National English Ballet that Merle Park starred.

‘These are very hard to find.’ You admitted loudly before looking behind your shoulder with a smile, but Steve kept his eyes on the TV, ignoring your comment.

You walked back with the tapes in your hands before sitting next to him. Fixing your skirt as you rested your back on the side of the bed, you wondered how you could thank him without making things more awkward than they already were.

‘How was training today?’ He asked without looking back at you.

‘Honestly?’ You chuckled. ‘It was miserable.’

Your confession was what made him finally look back at you, but you didn’t seem stressed, just very tired. The sight of your puffed eyelids reminded him of your relaxed face when you slept, he didn’t get to see you like that as often as he wished.

‘Surely not as miserable as rewinding tapes for four hours.’ He joked before speaking softly. ‘What happened?’

‘Well, my new shoes are still breaking in and Priscilla Webber spent the whole day watching my développés like a hyena looks at a baby antelope.’

He grabbed one of the cases and took the Merle Park tape out of it.

‘Is she your understudy?’ He asked as he put the tape inside the VHS under his TV.

‘Yep. It’s usually the other way around, I’ve always been the one ready to cover for her.’ You made a short pause when the opening credits rolled up. ‘I don’t think she’s ever been anyone’s understudy.’

He chuckled as he sat back next to you.

‘Sounds like she’s having a hard time.’

‘I fucking hope she is.’ You recognised. ‘She’s unbearable.’

Steve’s eyes stayed on the TV for a few seconds, a subtle frown took over his face as he looked at the screen but didn’t really watch. The reflection fell on his face tinting his cheeks blue and purple at times. After a few seconds of silence, he finally looked back at you.

‘Do you always talk about each other like that?’

‘What do you mean?’ You laughed softly as you rested your cheek against the bed.

‘I don’t know.’ He shrugged. ‘Aren’t you two members of the same company? Like, you’re putting a show together, right?’

‘Yeah, but we’re not friends.’ You said amused. ‘No one really is, to be honest.’

‘Well, but you’re like co-workers. Kinda. Like, in a normal situation you’d be decent with each other at the very least.’

You looked back at him with a tendered smile on your face, and he didn’t seem to like that very much by the way his cheeks were blushing under the TV glow. You weren’t really offended by his logic, just merely entertained.

‘This is not a team, Steve.’ You whispered patiently. ‘If something happens to me, Priscilla gets my spot and the world goes on.’

‘Hmm.’ He nodded. ‘That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?’

You shrugged. ‘People work really hard to get to dance at a professional level. It’s expensive, time consuming, and once you turn twenty-five people start treating you like you belong in a nursing home.’

‘Sounds like hell if you ask me.’ He said after a while.

‘Good thing I didn’t.’ You replied looking back at the TV.

Your eyes got lost in the beautiful silhouette of Merle Park as she appeared on the stage like a pale silver ghost. Her make up was at least ten years outdated now, but she still managed to look elegant and perfect.

‘It’s just so fleeting.’ You admitted out loud. ‘The rush of satisfaction when you’re there. There’s also the fear of not getting it right, of giving in to the pain, but, I don’t know. There’s something so humanly beautiful about attempting to reach perfection even when you know it’s impossible. And there’s something… euphoric about proving what your body is capable of.’

‘There are easier ways of doing that.’ He said resting his head against the bed next to you. His knees had flexed just enough to brush yours, and you craved for the texture of his soft fingertips under your skirt. He was smiling, softly, but still cheeky.

‘Yeah, but they’re not all beautiful.’ You murmured.

He looked back at you, studying your face seriously before whispering.

‘You don’t think what we did the other day was beautiful?’

He looked so small then, as he waited for your answer, and you wondered about what to say while your cheeks felt as if they were on fire. You shrugged shyly, feeling that no answer would be good enough, because you didn’t want to tell him that you had thought about it every night this week. You had thought about it a lot.

‘Come here.’ He said patting his lap.

And you did, because somehow you were listening to the Overture for the thousandth time today, but this time it felt like that distant day where you watched the ballet when you were seven. This time it felt as if it had a meaning, as if the ethereal notes had a complete different effect on your body.

‘Tell me,’ He whispered in the dark as his fingers dived under the chiffon skirt of your dress. His greedy hands cupped your butt cheeks before he pushed you down, and your centre hit the erection under his jeans. ‘Isn’t this beautiful? Huh?’

‘We clearly have different concepts of beauty.’ You joked, but the amusement died when he started guiding your hips and your clit was being nicely pressed against his hard cock.

You released a sigh of relief when you started getting wet, throwing your head back as he was learning you did when something really excited you. He lifted one of his hands and softly pulled down the strap of your dress before kissing your shoulder. Every hair on your skin turned into a goosebump, and your fingers sneaked under his sweater, scratching the skin of his back as you rubbed yourself a bit harder against him.

You heard a distant complaint coming out of his lips, but it could’ve been a moan as you pushed yourself against him and your mouth searched for his neck. The TV started playing the familiar notes of the black swan’s pas de deux, melancholic and dark, and so frivolously complicated. He heard you take a deep breath, and you tried to kiss him there as softly as he had pecked your shoulder, but in a matter of seconds you were sucking on his skin while your hips gained speed.

‘Shit.’ You heard him say under his breath. Your hands dived in his hair, making it messy and pulling it a little like you had before. You liked that he didn’t know what to do with you, because you also didn’t know what to do with yourself. Steve was so hard under the warmth of your lacy underwear, and he smelled so good, and his skin was so soft you couldn’t bear it.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but you hushed him with a violent kiss. Your heart beat much faster when your tongue dived inside his mouth and he blindly searched for a dominance that you weren’t going to give him. A guttural noise left his throat then, and when your hand pulled the neck of his sweater to hold on to while you rubbed yourself on him, something changed.

Steve grabbed your waist more firmly; he pushed you harder and it all turned much clumsier and dirtier after that. The moan that left your mouth encouraged him to explore this, something melancholic and dark that hid in the unconscious corners of himself.  Now he was moving his hips with you, your breaths were getting faster, you were staining his jeans for fuck’s sake. It was as if you didn’t know the concept of patience when it came to sex.

‘Fuck.’ You moaned against his mouth; he was looking at the way you shut your eyes hard as he swallowed your breath, mesmerized by the delicacy of your features despite the violence of your body.

He observed you through it all to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you, but you responded gladly to the increasing pressure, to the hard rhythm. Then you opened your helpless eyes to look at him while he squeezed your butt cheek, his fingers wandered a bit further down to find a sticky mess in between the friction of your bodies, and you pleaded with a soft, exhausted whine.

His eyes didn’t leave your face as you came hard, almost painfully as you trembled in his arms. Your legs wrapped tightly around his sides while you panted on his shoulder, the music had been muted by a buzzing in your ears, and you were still trying to catch your breath when he spoke urgently.

‘Take them off.’ His nose stroked yours, his lips so close from yours you could almost taste every word as his hands slipped inside your underwear. ‘Please, take them off for me. Please.’

Steve’s request was urgent and needy, he couldn’t even wait for you to mutter a response as he was starting to pull down the soaked fabric and you blinked repeatedly in confusion.

It took you a couple of seconds to help him pull down the pale blue panties. His eyes lingered on the way a thin thread of wetness kept connected to your pussy, your legs getting a little bit stained with the clumsy movement. He urgently unzipped his jeans as his eyes were still lost on the mystery under your skirt and yours couldn’t leave his dumbed-out face when he pulled down his boxers.

For the first time since this started your movements were slow and delicate, your knees found a place on each side of his legs while he sat more comfortably, and you placed the fabric on his hand. You couldn’t even breath by the anticipation, and by the funny fear that sat on the pit of your stomach as your eyes fell on his veiny and hard cock.

With the same urgency as before, he wrapped your soaked underwear around his dick and started to touch himself softly, but insistently. Your cheeks couldn’t get impossibly warmer as you observed him in silence, equally fascinated and shyly flattered by his desperation.

‘Touch my face?’ He asked in between breaths, his eyelids getting heavier the more he pumped his dick. ‘Please?’

You realised then, that there was an unbearable distance between your bodies now. Sitting carefully, you lifted your shaky hands towards his face and cupped his cheeks, you thumbs stroked the corners of his mouth before you leaned in to kiss him, not knowing if you were doing it right.

But apparently you were, by the way he sighed under your mouth, by how he shut his eyes hard as you licked his lower lip. If only you’d knew how to help him release his tension, if only you weren’t you, maybe you’d be able to be sweet enough to him.

You tried though, clumsily, testing it all as you pecked the little red bite you had left on his neck minutes earlier. Then you licked it, drawing a line up to his ear with your tongue, letting out a nervous breath that he would’ve loved to swallow.

‘Tell me.’ He whispered, feeling your mouth so close from his ear, resting his cheek against yours. He was sweaty and hot against you.

‘W-What?’ You asked nervously. Somehow you felt embarrassedly naked there, even if he wasn’t touching you anymore, even if you were dressed.

‘Tell me.’ He repeated, begging in a vulnerable whisper. ‘Tell me anything, just— just say something, please. I’m so close.’

What could you say to him? What could you offer him that wasn’t rough and battered? What did he want to hear? That this was beautiful? Would it be honest if you said that? No, he’d knew you didn’t mean it.

But it was, wasn’t it? He was beautiful, you thought as your nose played with his earlobe and you pecked his cheek. His request got you feeling clueless, completely speechless for the first time.

Feeling uncomfortably embarrassed, you moved back to face him. Your nose brushed against his while your hands were still on his face, and you let out a nervous, shaky chuckle as his movements increased speed.

‘I don’t know.’ You admitted softly. ‘I-I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.’

He smiled then, equally tendered and amused by this side of you while he studied your face. Your stupidity didn’t seem to discourage him as he rested the back of his neck on the edge of the bed. His free hand stroked your thigh, still touching himself with a patient smile on his face.

‘Just somethin’ sweet.’ He murmured. ‘Anything you can think of.’

You swallowed hard, fearing that you would finally fuck this up.

‘But I’m not sweet.’ You whispered after a while, totally defeated.

He tsked then, shaking his head softly as he sat better. It had all turned much slow-paced than before, and you thought that was odd, that he couldn’t possibly not be desperate to cum. You were confused by his lack of disappointment as his free hand wrapped around your waist to sit you better on top of him. His forehead rested on yours as you looked away, feeling anxious and stupid.

‘You gave me these.’ He said looking down at the obscene yet flattering image of your lacy, wet underwear around his dick as he stroked up and down. His nose poked yours so you’d look up at him. ‘That was sweet.’

‘Hm.’ You shrugged, grabbing the neck of his sweater with your fist.

‘And you slowed down this time. A little, at least.’ He laughed softly as his lips brushed yours. ‘For me.’

‘Well, I want you to feel good too.’ You admitted softly.

‘Yeah?’ He leaned in, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath, getting lost in the warm closeness between your bodies. It was overwhelming, how he managed to get so needy in such a short time. ‘Tell me. How.’

You were breathless at the fact that this was somehow working. You looked down at his fast movements before your gaze fell on his beautiful face again.

‘I just think it’s… nice.’ You giggled, and hated yourself for it, but he smiled with his eyes closed, so it couldn’t have been that bad. ‘Maybe you can keep them and use them again. If you want to think about me.’

‘Do you want me to think about you?’ He asked as his free hand sneaked under your skirt again. He squeezed your bare ass softly, fondly, releasing another deep shaky breath. ‘Huh?’

‘Yes.’ You whispered. The effect of such a simple word made him shut his eyes harder, his lips opening partly but no agony sound coming out of them as his forehead fell on your chest.

Your hands dived in his hair carefully and you couldn’t resist to leave a kiss on his head. He smelled so good, so sweet, so Steve, and the moan that left his mouth tendered you even more. It was loud, as if he was in pain, but you knew he wasn’t.

What took over you then wasn’t animalistic or primal, it was oddly human. You embraced him, hugging him against your chest, hiding his head under your neck as if you were protecting him. You had never protected anyone or anything before, and such a realisation could’ve brought tears to your eyes.

He came hard, by the way he was trying to repress his growls, by how tightly he squeezed your waist and how long he stayed there catching his breath.

The heat rushed to your cheeks as you sat back while he cleaned himself with your underwear before zipping up his jeans. You swallowed hard, feeling the need of crossing your legs as you climbed down of his lap. The TV was still playing the tape, while the soft ethereal music overtook the silence between you.

‘Honey?’ Your mom’s voice from downstairs made you stand up out of sudden.

You fixed your dress as you walked towards the door before you felt Steve’s hand wrapping around your arm. It took you out of surprise when he turned your body back, cupping your face before his lips found yours desperately. His hungry tongue tasted you, licked you, his greedy hands were squeezing your waist again.

You pushed him then, out of habit or maybe out of fear. Steve looked seriously at you, and you felt the anxiety rush to your chest as he took his jacket and walked past you towards the corridor.

‘Oh!’ Your mother’s exclamation made you walk out when she encountered Steve on the stairs. ‘Is everything okay, Steve?’

You were on the top of the stairs now, unable to look at his face as he made his towards the entrance, and your mom stood still with a worried look on her face.

‘Just remembered I forgot to lock the back door at work.’ He said taking his keys from the hook on the wall. He still didn’t look up as he shouted at his parents from the entrance. ‘I’ll be right back.’

You stood on your place, fixing your skirt once again and trying to process what you had done and what had happened before.

‘Is everything okay, sweetie?’ Your mom asked as she looked back at you.

You nodded softly.

‘Yeah. Of course.’ You chuckled as you walked down the stairs. ‘Why wouldn’t it?’

‘It just kind of seems you two got into a fight.’ She said as she followed you back downstairs.

‘Steve and I don’t get into fights, mom.’ You rolled your eyes nonchalantly when you made it to the entrance and picked your jacket and scarf from the rack. ‘We’re not eight anymore.’

‘But he seemed so upset…’

‘We just never seem to get along.’ You shrugged. There was a careless smile on your face but something inside you was unbearably breaking the more you pretended things weren’t wrong. ‘Think I’m gonna go home now, I’ve got a long day at the studio tomorrow.’

You kissed her cheek softly, ignoring the knot on your throat, and then you walked out of the house.

There was no sign of Steve’s car once you closely observed the desolated surroundings of the house. You took a shaky breath in and walked down the steps before walking home in the silent winter night. The moonlight lit the frozen pond like a glistening lighthouse, and for once you allowed yourself to feel lonely.

A snow day in the middle of the second week of rehearsals wasn’t ideal, it was fatal. You had spent the whole morning begging your dad to find an alternate route to the city for you. You promised, promised, promised that if he’d help you pay for a hotel room for the rest of the week, you’d give him the money back as soon as possible, but he reluctantly said no.

So, you had no other option than to grab your skates and spend the morning on the pond as you wondered what to do. You started as you always did, skating in loops for a while before you moved on to more complicated turns. You had just started practicing some harmless jumps that you hadn’t tried for a while, when the noise of chatter and laugh behind you startled you.

The fall was clean, and not too nasty. The heat rushed to your cheeks as you clenched your jaw and stood up while Steve and his friends looked at you from the other side of the frozen pond.

‘Are you okay?’ Max Mayfield was skating towards you now. Behind her, the other four boys that were always accompanied by Steve were putting their skates on.

You cleaned the snow off your butt as you nodded softly, skating in their direction.

‘I’m fine, thanks.’ You said skating past her.

Steve’s eyes never left your face as he realised how that had discouraged Max from speaking to you, but he couldn’t concentrate on that for much longer when you stood in front of him.

‘Steve,’ you said. ‘Not today.’

He let out a sarcastic chuckle with a frown on his face, he was holding his own skates on his hand as he looked back at you.

‘I agree.’ He said walking around the edge of the frozen pond. ‘I’m not arguing with you today either.’

‘Steve,’ You insisted as you skated next to him. ‘I really need the place for myself today. Just give me a couple more hours and I’ll—’

‘I don’t care.’ He snapped, stopping on his tracks. The kids had lifted their gazes at his tone towards you, a few of them frowning in confusion at his sudden change of mood.

‘Steve.’ You said more stubbornly, feeling your fingers almost shaking on either side of you because of how angry and stupid you felt.

‘What!’ He screamed at you. ‘I can’t leave the fucking pond whenever you want to! What are you, five? You parents are home, you’re always complaining ‘bout how they ignore you, well then why don’t you go and leave us the fuck alone?’

You stood there, feeling ashamed under his severe stare as you tried to think about a comeback, when Max spoke softly:

‘There’s no need to be so harsh, Steve.’

‘Yeah, I can say the same.’ He said still looking at you.

‘Right.’ You said looking back at the kids, trying to pick up the last pieces of dignity you still had. ‘The pond’s all yours, guys.’

You walked out of the ice with your skates still on, too mad to even take them off yet. After a few seconds walking towards your house, you took a deep breath and stopped. This was dangerous, you could injure yourself and say goodbye to Odette and Odile if you hurt your ankles or knees. You already had a bruise forming on the side of your leg by the previous fall, and you weren’t going to fuck up things this easily.

You threw the skates away from you as you still stood on the snow barefoot, wondering where the fuck you had left your boots, when a soft tap on your shoulder startled you.

‘Jesus.’ You said turning back to find Max’s shy face in front of you.

‘I, uh, sorry.’ She said nervously. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’ You said, a bit confused. Beyond her, the kids had already started skating while Steve was putting his own skates on.

‘I just wanted to tell you that Miss Dolly’s at home today, she might be able to lend you the theatre’s studio.’

‘Your ballet teacher?’ You asked excitedly before thinking about it. ‘Holy shit, you’re so right. Thank you, Max.’

‘You’re welcome.’ She smiled softly. ‘Am I still seeing you this Saturday for the audition thing?’

‘Sure.’ You nodded. ‘Right, I’ll make sure to write it down on my calendar.’

‘Cool.’ She said with a wide smile.

You weren’t able to reciprocate her excitement, but you were happy that she was so enthusiastic about getting better at dancing. It reminded you a little bit of yourself.

‘Cool.’

As Linda Harrington had said, Dolly Higgens wasn’t Miss Cécile, but she had trained in Paris and toured Asia as Coppélia. So, when you knocked the door of her house trying to catch your breath and explained everything to her, she gave you the keys to the old studio where you had once learned the transition from first position to sixth.

The place was warmer than your remembered, but the wooden tiles still creaked the same way they did when you were eight. The old curtains had been replaced, but the barres under your stretching ankle still felt the same as the first time you managed to execute a successful plié.

All your ballet clothes were in the washing machine, so you had to resort to shorts, a sports bra and your leg warmers. You were sweaty when you heard the knock on the door. The noise made you frown, so you kept on moving until you heard the knock again, grabbing your shrug from the floor and wrapping it around you before walking to the door.

‘I came to pick up Max.’ Steve said as he stood on the threshold. He was avoiding your eyes, wrapped in endless layers of wool and cotton while you still caught your breath.

‘Uh, she’s not here.’ You said.

He scoffed.

‘C’mon, just tell her I’m outside.’ He looked at you, annoyance written all over his face as he looked back at you. ‘She asked me to drive her to the movies tonight.’

‘Well maybe she meant—’ But he didn’t let you finish, he just walked into the studio to find the large room empty except for the big speakers and your bottle of water.

‘Max?’ He asked loudly. ‘Max?’

‘Maybe she meant her house?’ You crossed your arms over your waist.

‘No.’ He turned back to look at you. ‘No, she said she’d be rehearsing with you and then I could come pick her up.’

You bit the pitiful smile that was trying to form on your face before shaking your head.

‘Our rehearsal’s on Saturday.’ You simply said.

He shook his head then, growing more tense the longer he spent inside the studio, the longer you looked at him from the other side of the room.

‘She wouldn’t lie to me.’ He scoffed.

You shrugged, closing the door behind you as you walked back into the studio.

‘If you don’t mind,’ you said calmly, taking off the shrug. ‘I’ve got things to do.’

But just as you were about to play the music, he snapped again.

‘What did you tell her?’

You scoffed, knowing that he was just looking for excuses to fight with you.

‘Nothing.’ You said, looking at him seriously. ‘I didn’t have to tell her anything. Maybe she couldn’t stand the fact that Hawkin’s golden boy was treating me like shit this morning.’

‘Oh, please.’ He let out a snorty laugh. ‘You got it well deserved.’

‘No, I didn’t.’ You were more than just offended as you walked towards him, letting out a laugh of disbelief. ‘Steve, you ran away.’

‘You pushed me.’ He said between his teeth.

‘What?’

‘You fucking pushed me.’ He repeated. You could see that his cheeks were turning redder by the anger.

‘You kissed me.’ You said slowly. ‘Steve, my mom almost caught us.’

‘So what?’ He said throwing his hands in the air. ‘Who gives a shit? We’re not kids anymore.’

‘I do, Steve.’ You argued, feeling yourself more and more flushed. ‘I give a shit. I have to deal with her belittling me all the time—’

‘Oh, here we go.’ He rolled his eyes, letting out an exhausted noise before he licked his lips. ‘Seriously, don’t you ever get tired of feeling sorry for yourself?’

You let out a sarcastic laugh.

‘Right. I get why you’d like her to know.’ All your patience had ran out, this time all the anger and frustration were taking over you as your heart beat fast. ‘I guess you enjoy the fact she hasn’t stopped talking about you since your accident—'

‘Do you think I like the fact you’re getting everything I wanted?’ He shouted then ‘When you don’t even fucking deserve it?’

‘Yes.’ You said firmly. As firmly as you had asked him to think about you a week ago. He didn’t get to decide if you deserved this or not. ‘In fact, I think you like the pity, Steve. I think there’s no one in this fucking town that feels as sorry for that accident as I do. Because now everyone fucking pities you except me, and that’s probably why you’re doing this— Why you keep kissing me, and touching me and shit, because you want me to pity you so badly…’

You just couldn’t keep your impulses in, and your arms found his chest easily to push him again, to vent, to throw all your anger at him. But as soon as you did, and you realised he was almost flinching, you couldn’t do it. All you could do was pull him from his shirt and kiss him, you were on your tiptoes, you were sighing hard.

He hesitated, and that made you feel desperate, stupid, small. But then a few seconds after his hands were cupping your ass, his tongue was making his way inside you as he pulled you in. He was leaning in to be at same height as you, the cold surface of the mirror was against your back as his wet lips made their way from your ear to your neck. You could feel him hard against your groin, warm under all those endless layers that kept him away from you.

Your desperate hands got rid of his scarf first, before moving on to his jacket. You were squirming against the mirror, desperately trying to chase his lips, when you felt the warm breath of his laugh against your neck.

‘You’re so bratty.’ He whispered before laughing again.

‘Don’t call me that.’ You tried to said it seriously, but you were sighing, you were melting by the way his kisses were making their way down your chest.

‘Can I taste you?’ He said between kisses, slowly kneeling in front of you. His lips were warm and soft against the hem of your sports bra, and you blinked repeatedly as you looked down at him.

‘W-What?’

His hands had entwined with yours and he only stood straight again to kiss you. You were too stunned to say anything as he pulled you down softly, and you followed him, of course. Your back was against the floor, his mouth on your bare stomach as you felt a sweet, yet terrifying rush of energy run down your spine.

You lifted your waist so he could get rid of your shorts, and you were purposefully avoiding his eyes as you felt the fabric leaving your ankles. His gaze was focused on the side of your thigh, a worried frown taking over his features as his fingers brushed against the bruise.

‘Is this from this morning?’ He asked softly.

You were still trying to catch your breath so all you could do was nod.

‘God, I’m sorry, baby.’ He said before leaning in to kiss it. Just the stimulus had you repressing a moan. ‘M so sorry.’

There wasn’t a good answer you could think of, anything that could’ve left your lips would’ve sounded stupid to yourself. All you could do was shut your eyes hard as he kept repeating soft I’m sorrys while he kissed your thighs, your hipbone, the little curve of your pelvis. You weren’t sure what he was apologising for, and at this point you couldn’t even care.

‘…gentle.’

‘Huh?’ Your fingers were already diving inside his brown locks, waiting for the moment where you could pull them that way you liked to.

The warm breath of his laugh brushed against your covered pussy, and you had to fight the need to roll your eyes at it.

‘Was saying,’ He took your hands then and placed them over your breasts. ‘I’m gonna teach you how to be gentle.’

You blinked a couple of times, feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks when he kissed you over your panties before his hands stared to pull them down. His eyes lingered from your face to your stomach, down the trail that led to your pussy as if he was fond of the image in front of you.

‘Lift your bra.’ He said then. ‘And touch yourself softly.’

You were too nervous to roll your eyes or get embarrassed by the fact he was telling you what to do. You did as he said, rolling up the elastic fabric and feeling quite exposed, but too needy to worry about it.

The sides of Steve’s lips lifted softly as you stroked your breasts, the tips of your nipples hardening by the stimulus, a longing sigh stuck on your throat as your eyes never left his. You thought of him the first time he touched you, his murmured I’m proud of you, was it so crazy that you wanted him to be proud of you for this too?

‘I said softly.’ He laughed when you pinched one of your nipples. And you laughed too, shrugging while you still looked at him.

‘I like it.’ You confessed shyly.

He shook his head to himself then, before his hands rested on each side of your legs. You looked down attentively, mesmerized and terrified, until he finally leaned in.

His tongue was warm. Wet. Soft. You were a mess of little noises and gulps as you arched your back while he licked your clit. Your hands softly wandered down, but then you remembered he wouldn’t let you pull his hair, and there were no bedsheets to fist as he started sucking.

You shut your eyes hard, sinking your nails on the skin of your stomach as you panted, too overwhelmed to keep the moans in.

‘Don’t do that.’ Steve said suddenly. You looked down then, finding his lips shiny and cheeks pink, his eyes focused on the harmless little half-moons on your abdomen.

One of his hands grabbed yours, kissing your fingertips before sucking them in the same sensual way he had sucked your clit before. Your eyes couldn’t leave his face as his tongue licked the bottom of your middle finger up to the top, leaving them sticky and wet for you, until he guided that same hand back to your bare, needy breasts.

You were breathless as he resumed his kisses in between your thighs, and you pushed your breasts until all his spit had been perfectly rubbed on your nipples, until you felt completely his.

‘Steve.’ You moaned as you recoiled, trying to find sweet ways to beg him to release you from this misery, but other than his name you didn’t know how to do any of this. The sweetness, the softness of it all.

The thought brought tears to your eyes, and you had to shut them hard and move your head to the side to keep him from looking at you like this. It was better if he thought your choky breaths were due to the pleasure, and not because the words you had said to him were drilling your brain.

‘Open your eyes for me.’ He asked then, and when you did, what you found was your reflection on the mirror, his lips working on you as your legs were lightly flexed, your body all exposed for him. ‘Look at us.’

‘Huh?’ You looked down at him, trying to get rid of that image but at the same time wishing you could cherish it forever.

He smiled again, tendered by your cluelessness, by the sudden shyness that sometimes overtook your face.

‘Do you still think this is not beautiful?’ He asked softly against your pussy. You threw your head back when he dived in again, this time more consistently, with the purpose of eating you, with the purpose of ruining you.

‘Cause I think we’re…’ He sighed, hearing you panting and feeling you squirming under his tongue. ‘Hmm.’

‘Shit.’ You finally moaned, as the feeling built from your stomach and you were moaning, maybe crying a little, you were laughing and cumming deliciously. ‘Fuck.’ You laughed again. ‘W-What the fuck.’

You were still catching your breath as he sat up, and he couldn’t help but laugh shyly too, his eyes falling on your uncovered breasts for a second before he looked away. You took it as a sign to pull the fabric down, finding yourself more exposed than you had ever felt in front of him.

He grabbed your underwear and the silent question of if he’d ask to keep them lingered between you. Yet your eyes stayed on his puffy lips as he pulled your panties up through your legs and you let him, lifting yourself so he could place them perfectly, then doing the same with your shorts.

The silence was awkward when the heat and the sweetness died down, tensions from the previous argument resurged in between you two. You sat down as he stood up, putting your shrug back on and playing with its sleeves. Then you felt the need of saying thank you, I’m sorry or please stay.

‘Guess I’ll see you around, bratty.’ He nodded at you. You guessed he was supposed to sound cold, but his lips were shiny, puffy, red. And you wondered if he could still taste you.

‘Sure.’ You murmured, hugging yourself as you heard the door close.

On Monday you climbed out of your car feeling achy and restless. What was supposed to be a resting weekend turned out to be a couple of days of training with Max nonstop. She was better than you thought she would be, and just as stubborn and perfectionist as you were at her age. So, when you figured that spending two days with Max at Dolly Higgens’ studio would save you from another dinner with the Harringtons, you told her you’d help her get the role no matter what.

Steve had driven her to the city for her audition. You knew this because Max had told you several times that it wouldn’t be a problem if you wanted to join them on Monday morning. It shouldn’t have caught you by surprise then, when you saw him on the theatre’s lobby as you walked in with your dance bag.

Max was queuing for registration as you walked past them quickly, lifting your hand in the air as a quick, subtle hi. She waved back at you enthusiastically, while Steve looked at you with a careful smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

‘Good luck.’ You said waving again, before you got lost on the hallway that led to your studio.

A few hours later you were still achy and more tense as you sat down to have a snack.

The forecast for the last week of rehearsals didn’t seem too good. You had been shouted at before, and it was normal to have disagreements with other dancers, but it was obvious that everyone was as nervous as you.

Miss Fyodorova, the ballet mistress, had been constantly repeating you not to tremble, and the more she did the more you did, and the worse it got the easier it was to lose your balance. You had to force yourself to look at your eyes in the mirror to avoid getting distracted, but somehow you were able to see everything you were doing wrong with your pirouettes and it all got so tense and ridiculous everyone was sent to lunch earlier.

The door to the dressing room opened behind you, but you didn’t look back as you took an absent bite of your protein bar. Once again you tried to read the same paragraph from your novel when you heard Priscilla Webber’s voice behind you. 

‘And this is the dressing room. I think I can check if I can show you my costumes.’

You looked behind your shoulder then, because you knew that what she meant was your costumes, though you knew that in a normal show she played one of the Baby Swans. Priscilla was accompanied by an old woman, and the tension on your face dissipated when you noticed the way the lady was looking at the room in fascination before her eyes fell on you.

‘Hi.’ You said shyly.

‘Hi.’ Priscilla said, not too amused by your interruption. ‘This is my grandma.’

‘Hello.’ You were suddenly standing up and offering your hand and your name.

She took it kindly. ‘And who are you playing?’

You looked at Priscilla then, almost searching for her approval, or asking if you should lie. If maybe you should’ve humoured the lady a little bit and tell her that you were his granddaughter’s understudy and not the other way around.

‘She’s Odette, grandma.’ She said ignoring your gaze on her. ‘And Odile.’

‘How wonderful.’ Her grandmother said.

You were about to say thank you when she carefully placed the palm of her hand under your chin, looking at you closely.

‘You’re perfect.’ She said.

‘Excuse me?’ You chuckled.

‘For the role.’ She smiled. ‘You’re wonderful.’

‘T-Thanks.’ You said softly, feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks as you tried not to look at Priscilla.

She didn’t seem bothered, though. Both of them stayed on the room for a little longer as you stood awkwardly next to your chair, feeling that your hands were sweating cold.

‘It was nice to meet you.’ She said before walking out, Priscilla was standing on the entrance as she looked at you behind her shoulder. ‘I will see you on the show this Friday, dear.’

‘It was nice meeting you too.’ You lifted a hand in the air.

The old lady finally got lost behind the door and you bit the inside of your cheek as you got lost in your thoughts.

‘Why are you being so weird?’ Priscilla said once her grandmother left.

‘I’m not being weird.’ You murmured. ‘I’m just… I don’t know, nervous.’

You sat down then, feeling her eyes on you through the mirror as you picked your book once again.

‘I know that you wanted to tell her.’ She walked towards you. ‘I don’t need to lie about being the understudy.’

‘Okay.’ You said after a while.

‘Specially just so you can feel better about yourself.’

‘Fine.’ You turned the page without knowing what you had just read exactly, but you were trembling again, and you couldn’t stand it.

‘Though it does makes me feel kind of good to know that you can’t even get your family to visit you.’

You shut the book then, grabbing your things to leave the dressing room.

‘I’m not doing this today, Priscilla.’

‘You should’ve seen yourself back there in the studio.’ She said frustrated. ‘Seriously, you were worse than bad, you were unprofessional.’

‘Fine, well,’ you said standing in front of her. ‘There’s a reason why I get to be bad and unprofessional and still be the lead and that’s the fact that I deserve this.’

‘I deserved this.’ She shouted, you could see her eyes getting progressively glossy as she spoke. ‘I fucking do, and it’s killing me to see you fucking it up!’

‘Well, you don’t have it.’ You said in the same tone. ‘I do. Sometimes, Priscilla, people deserve better than they have, and they still don’t get it. Get over it.’

You left the room feeling a strange sense of dissatisfaction. It wasn’t the first time you two got caught on a quarrel and it wouldn’t be the last, but something about what you said was starting to mess with your breathing pattern. You were thinking about Steve. You were thinking about his accident. Why did you care this much?

Your heart beat fast, and there was a knot on your throat the size of a fist as you walked out towards the parking lot.

It was easy to find his car, you almost had the plate memorised just by how many times you had seen it next to your house. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, of course, eyeing a magazine as you made your way towards him almost stomping.

A frown took over his face when you opened the door, not worrying about anything else as you jumped into his arms, sitting on his lap and clashing your mouths as you felt yourself almost panting by the anxiety. You were trying to show him that you needed him, right now and here more than anything else. Because there was no one else that could understand what you were feeling right now as he did.

He let out a noise of protest, pushing you softly before looking back at your face.

‘What are you doing?’ He asked almost angry.

‘W-What?’ You asked confused.

‘Move, Jesus.’ He said lifting you easily as you moved absently to the co-pilot seat. ‘Somebody can see you, and then what? You lose your place as the lead for this shit?’

He closed the driver’s door then, and you were still confused, blinking a couple of times as you wondered what you were doing here, inside his car.

‘Are you stupid?’ He said then, only then you had noticed the little dot of blood in his lower lip, one that you had probably caused by how unexpectedly you had kissed him.

‘I-I’m—’

He hit the top of the wheel with his hand as he tried to check through the windshield if there was anyone around.

‘This could’ve got you fucking expelled.’

You didn’t say anything, instead you lifted a shaky hand towards his face. Your thumb brushed the bloody spot of his lip as you blinked repeatedly again.

‘Did you bite me?’ He said then, before he tried to look at himself in the rearview mirror. The heat rushed to your cheeks then as you sat back uncomfortably.

‘I-I’m sorry.’ You said. ‘I didn’t realise. I didn’t mean to.’

He chuckled, shaking his head as he cleaned his mouth with his hand.

‘Listen,’ He said after a while. ‘This thing between us can’t keep going if you don’t learn to be a little less rough, okay?’

You nodded softly then. It was so absurd that after everything, this was the one thing that was almost bringing you to tears. You felt so stupid out of sudden. Every single day since this had started you had felt stupid.

‘Like…’ He tried to find words, but all he could do was sit back and look through the windshield while he shook his head. ‘You worry me sometimes. Do any of the other guys liked this type of shit? Did they treat you like this?’

This time you felt the blood leaving your face as you hugged yourself in the seat. You looked away, towards the window, trying to remember any words but unable to find any.

‘I gotta go.’ You said softly, trying to open the door on your side, but it was locked.

‘What?’

‘I have to leave,’ Your voice was shaky and you hated yourself for it as you tried to open it again. ‘I have to go back inside, Steve.’

‘But you still have about forty minutes.’ His voice didn’t sound so harsh as he checked on his watch. Steve’s hand landed on your knee as you tried to open the door again, and then he pronounced the next word softly and sweetly, as only he could.

‘Stay.’

‘I don’t wanna stay.’ You said still hiding your face from him.

‘Why not?’ His thumb was stroking you softly and it was unbearable, you kind of preferred it when he was angry.

‘I’m not comfortable here.’ You simply said, feeling that you were losing oxygen every second that you were trapped in this car.

‘W-Why? Was it something I said?’ He tried to touch your arm, but you flinched at his touch, taking your hands to your face. ‘Hey. I’m sorry I snapped, you just caught me off guard, okay?’

‘I really need to leave.’ You repeated, massaging your temples as you felt yourself shaking.

He sat back then, pondering about what to do. You could feel his heavy breath next to you as you hid your face from him, fighting the tears that were about to leave your eyes.

‘I don’t get to ask about other guys?’ He asked softly.

‘No, Steve. You don’t.’ You snapped as your eyes kept focused on the glove compartment because you just couldn’t look back at him. Because you couldn’t tell him that there were no other guys. There had never been any because you were simply not that likable. ‘Can I leave?’

‘R-Right.’ He said, and you heard the relieving noise of the car unlocking. ‘Will I—’

You closed the door behind you, finally feeling the tears that were in your eyes rolling down your cheeks. Hugging yourself, you rubbed your hand against your cheekbone, deciding that you didn’t have time for this right now. You had to clean your face, fix your make up and go back to the studio, because the opening night was in five days.

Who would’ve thought that the secret to reach perfection was a broken heart?

As soon as you had made it inside there was no more trembling or unbalancing allegros, your face was perfectly able to enact Odette’s agony, or Odile’s malice as you blindly looked beyond your body in the mirror.

There was no doubt you deserved the role, despite what everyone else had try to make you believe. And yet when you left the theatre that night, as soon as you walked out to the desertic parking lot, you were in tears again.

In fact, you had spent the whole week crying in your bed, facing away from the sight of the glistening pond where sometimes you could hear the laugh of a few teenagers accompanied by the voice of someone you couldn’t give your heart to.

Nobody noticed, and often you were thankful while other times you wished you could scream loud enough that he could hear it from his house. But your behaviour of rejecting dinner at the Harrington’s or leaving your parents to have plans by themselves wasn’t new. You could call Barb, but last time she had mentioned she had finals on the week of the show. You were more than desolated, and angry at yourself, you were embarrassed.

On Thursday night you walked into the kitchen to find your mother weaving Christmas wreaths. She smiled at you softly as you moved inside to prepare some tea. Outside, the night was navy and illuminated by the reflection of the snow, you could hear noise coming from the pond, maybe Steve was having another party, or maybe it was just the kids.

‘Are you nervous about tomorrow?’ She asked.

You turned back, resting your back against the counter as you waited for the water to boil on the kettle. She was distracted, adding glue to a little red ball that she stuck next to a fake leaf.

‘Yeah.’ You admitted. ‘Terrified, actually.’

She laughed softly, still concentrated on the design as you looked back at her.

‘You don’t need to worry, honey.’ She sounded as if she was certain of it. ‘You will be great. You always are. I never have to worry about you.’

You swallowed hard, looking down at your slippers as you bit the inside of your cheeks.

‘Sometimes I wish you did.’ You admitted then. ‘Worry. Louder.’

Your mom turned back then, looking at you for a second as she processed your words.

‘Oh, honey, that’s not what I meant.’

‘I know.’ You said immediately. ‘I know, mom. I just— Forget it, I just wanted to ask you if you’d do my hair tomorrow, that’s all.’

Your mother sat back then, a confused stare on her face as you bit your lip and tried to play it cool.

‘Honey, sit down.’

You did as she said, wondering if you’d be able to put your thoughts into words if you had the chance to.

‘Okay, so. First of all, of course I’ll do your hair whether you like it or not.’ You let out a small laugh as she lifted a manicured finger to distract herself with some of the supplies that were on the table. ‘Second, I need to know why, my daughter, the best ice skater in Hawkins, hasn’t gone to her favourite spot in the world not even once during the most stressful week of her life.’

‘Second best.’ You admitted under your breath.

‘He can’t be the first after his injury, honey.’

‘Mom.’

She burst out laughing, and you stayed there in shock that she was trying to joke about something so serious right now.

‘How bad was it?’ She placed her hands on yours.

She lifted her eyebrows at the way you were biting your lip, shrugging.

‘That’s it.’ She said standing up. ‘I’m going there.’

‘What?’

‘I told Linda things weren’t good, and I told your father something was definitely up with Steve, and nobody listened to me…!’

‘Mom,’ you said standing up. ‘It was my fault.’

‘How could it be your fault? You’ve never had a boyfriend.’ She said taking her jacket and scarf from the counter. ‘And if they think I’m not uninviting them for Christmas after their son—’

‘Mom.’ You softly took the jacket from her. ‘You don’t need to uninvite anyone. It was my fault; I handled it terribly. Steve’s patient. And sweet. And I’m… awkward and rough, and cold—’ 

‘Stop.’ She lifted a finger at you then, her eyes had suddenly turned serious. ‘You’re going to stop now; you’re not talking about yourself that way in front of me. You’re the sweetest girl in this town. Everyone adores you.’

‘That’s not really…’

‘It is.’ She said firmly. ‘And you would know this if you ever attended anything with me. Everyone’s constantly talking about you. Half the town is going to the show tomorrow to see you.’

You stood silent as you looked down to your slippers again.

‘This is not about Steve, is it?’ You bit your lip.

‘Oh, it is about Steve.’ She said then. ‘That boy should’ve showed up with flowers and a card as soon as you two had your disagreement. But instead, he has you skipping dinners and missing daylight and exercise. I don’t like him.’

‘Mom…’

‘I am fond of him. I love that kid. But I don’t really like him right now.’

You took a deep breath, trying to hide your smile as you moved to pour the hot water inside your cup. Moving in silence, you decided that maybe you might prepare a sandwich too, given the circumstances.

‘Do you need help with that?’ You sat down next to her, grabbing the other naked wreath on the table.

She hummed for a while as you two worked together, and you drank your tea and ate your sandwich in silence.

‘I thought you’d be happy.’ You said with your mouth full as you sat more comfortably.

‘About you and Steve?’ She laughed. ‘Well, it had occurred to me before, I just thought you disliked each other way too much. You two are too competitive and I never wanted to encourage you to fight. But clearly, I always failed.’

You laughed softly, focused on the wreath because you didn’t want her to notice the way you were blushing.

‘And, well… his parents always pushed him into the whole scholarship thing, and then he had that terrible accident.’  She shook her head. ‘The poor boy’s had a terrible time trying to find his own path, I feel so sorry for him.’

You took a deep breath, thinking about all those awful things you had said back in Miss Higgens’ studio, knowing that you didn’t mean any of them. Your mind took you back to a year ago, when Steve was at the hospital and you spent the whole month skating alone.

‘It was very bad, wasn’t it?’ You murmured.

She swallowed hard before looking back at you.

‘Yes.’ Then she made a long pause before she grabbed another fake leaf, looking at it carefully. ‘It almost made me want to ask you to quit dancing.’ She sighed when she looked at your confused stare. ‘Sometimes I still want you to. I just wouldn’t be able to see you deal with that level of disappointment if something like that happened to you. I’ve got mixed feelings about it, honey, I’m sorry.’

You bit your lip then, considering her words.

‘But that doesn’t matter. You’ve always been stubborn enough to do what you want whether I like it or not.’ She shrugged. ‘As you should, that’s how I raised you. Look at me.’

A soft laugh left your lips as you looked back at her, feeling your eyes turning glossy.

‘You like him, don’t you?’

‘Yeah.’ You admitted softly, hugging yourself. ‘Very much, but I was such an idiot. I was just… so unpleasant and so stupid, mom.’

She laughed softly then, looking back at the wreath.

‘And when have you ever been anything else when it comes to Steve Harrington?’

Steve Harrington had in fact, never felt so unpleasant and stupid in his life. He had dodged Robin’s questions the whole week, he had forgotten to pick Dustin to take him Christmas shopping to the mall, and he had snapped twice at his mom.

It came to him slowly. At first, he had just assumed you were seeing someone else at the same time, maybe some guy from the ballet company, someone from outside Hawkins.

Then he thought there must’ve been something seriously wrong with him, because you never spent this much time away from the pond unless you were sick or away on vacation. He must’ve done something awful to have you avoiding him so purposely.

His friends just assumed he was on a bad mood since soon it would be the first anniversary of the accident, that maybe Christmas had him in this gloomy mood, but when Nancy bumped his shoulder and innocently asked where was the Ice Princess, he just shook his head and started walking back to his house.

A part of him was scared to know what had he done wrong. What if all this time you had been trying hard to like him but never really managed to? What if all those instances in which you threw your head back and your back arched irresistibly at his touch had been just an attempt to please him? Steve knew you could be mean, but were you that mean?

On Friday evening, he stood inside his car longer than necessary, wondering if he should just drive back to Hawkins and throw the bouquet of white roses somewhere far, so no one would ever find out that he had been making a fool of himself.

He had told his parents he wasn’t sure if he would come to the show tonight, some lame excuse about his shifts and Keith. But Robin had made sure that Steve’s schedule was clear, she even double checked that his tank was full, that he was dressing properly. And when she said goodbye on the front porch of the Harrington house, she made him promise to bring back a programme for her.

‘There you are!’ Said his mom as soon as he walked inside the lobby. The heat rushed to his cheeks at the sight of so many acquaintances. So many people were trying to be discreet about the bouquet he held in his hand, except for Max, who was smiling widely at the sight of the white roses.

‘Hi.’ He said with an attempt of a smile.

‘We thought you had changed your mind.’ Said his dad as he put his hands inside his pockets.

‘Sorry, I was just trying to get a tie, and then I… decided I didn’t want to wear one, and… I don’t know. Thanks for waiting for me.’

Mr Harrington nodded, trying hard to repress his smile as the queue advanced and they finally made it to the entrance.

A sudden noise made him turn back, someone seemed to be rushing inside the lobby. A security guard approached the young lady that was panting next to the heavy glass doors, and it took Steve a few seconds to recognise her.

‘Miss, you can’t run in here.’ The man said.

‘I’m sorry.’ She said in between heavy breaths. ‘I’m so sorry. I thought I was late; I got a ticket. Here.’

‘Barb?’ Said Steve as he walked towards here.

‘Hi?’ She said confused for a second until she recognised him too. ‘Oh, hi, Steve. God, I’m sorry, I’m all over the place. I literally ran from the train station. I couldn’t get a taxi with all this traffic. What time is it?’

‘We still got about ten minutes before the show.’ He said.

‘Great.’ She said before her eyes fell on the bouquet in his hand. ‘Oh, no. Nononono— Flowers! I forgot the flowers, fuck. I was gonna get her some on the way, but my train got delayed, and— She doesn’t even know I’m here you know?’

‘I figured.’ His face was overtaken by a pitiful smile, the internal debate taking over him as he looked back at Barbara. ‘I tell you what, why don’t you give her these? You know her better than I do, after all.’

‘Are you sure?’ She said as they started walking towards the entrance of the main theatre. Behind the young lady who was checking the tickets, Mr and Mrs Harrington waited along with Max.

‘Of course.’ He said giving his ticket to the girl as he offered Barb the flowers once again. ‘Here.’

‘Oh, thanks.’ She smiled then. ‘It means a lot. Really.’

He shrugged before walking to join his family. ‘Enjoy the show.’

‘You too.’ She said offering her ticket to the girl.

‘Why did you do that?’ Max asked when he joined them.

Steve shrugged, hiding his hands inside his pockets as they walked inside the theatre. The place was full of people already chatting softly on their seats, as he followed his parents towards the row where your family was waving from.

Max let out a frustrated sigh as they sat down, and he suddenly felt nervous. He wondered if you were, somewhere behind those intimidating red curtains that kept the stage hidden from the audience.

‘Steve, sometimes you can be very stupid, you know?’ Max said before the lights started to turn dim.

‘Shhh.’ He heard his mother in the dark.

Steve didn’t reply. He curiously leaned in as the orchestra walked in, followed by the applause of the audience when the director appeared right behind them.

The was an unbearable silence then. The director lifted his baton, the curtains opened, and the music started. He could feel Max leaning in next to him too, the sight of a few male ballet dancers, the interpretation of some sort of royal scene in which the characters discussed.

‘Where’s she?’ He whispered then.

‘Shhh.’ Max said.

Steve sat back, releasing a sigh as his eyes wandered around the staging, the fairytale-like music that preluded your apparition made him feel equally anxious and inadequate inside the fancy room. He rubbed his leg as he looked at the male dancers, nervously touching that one spot where he knew there was a scar.

Then the scenery changed. The lights were cold and dim, the stage washed in shades of blue, and about thirty different figures in white tulle costumes appeared, but only you wore the delicate silver tiara on your head that granted you the title of principal dancer.

He swallowed hard at the sight of you that wasn’t you exactly, but at the same time held the innocent air that so often you tried to repress but sometimes it slipped unconsciously. It seemed than in Odette you had found a way to expose it openly though, in the ways your eyebrows arched, and you lamented the day that awful spell had turned you into a swan forever.

Steve stood still as he saw you tiptoe around the stage in elegant movements that he knew required excessive amounts of discipline and control. From the distance, his eyes lingered on your hands and arms, as you tried to hide from the price, as you blushed, as you danced. He found himself smiling at the way your movements resembled those he had seen you try on the ice sometimes, his eyes took in the perfect harmony of the choreography, the urgency of the music… and the hope in your face, that mixed with despair the more the show progressed.

He had the pleasure to just watch you for a few hours, as if you were the graceful figure inside a musical box gifted to him on Christmas day, and he wasn’t going to take it for granted. He was enjoying himself.

But then he saw you turn into something else, that was also you in a more obscure and uncomprehensible way.  Of course, he recognised the piece that played that day in his room, when you had so beautifully turned into nothing as your warmth rubbed against his. He couldn’t help to hold onto his seat when you appeared wearing a black version of your tulle dress. Your movements were still impeccable but much more calculated, hiding a certain malice he had familiarised with through glimpses you let him see, but not in such a shameless manner.

The prince lifted you and held you as if you were a leaf, while Steve thought of your mouth, of your hands in his hair, of the weight of your body on his. He swallowed hard at this other version of you, that was not scared of embodying this elegant violence that took over Odile’s body as she stole the only precious thing Odette had left.

He held his breath when he saw you appear again as the poor, desolated Odette who prepared herself to give in to the sorrow of heartache. It was as if the whole audience stayed breathless with him, while the orchestra’s symphony turned progressively darker, ethereally distressing and your own innocence mixed with a doomed melancholy that he knew was yours and only yours. He knew then that you understood loneliness in a way probably not a lot of people did. And yet you were here, selflessly descending into madness in the most delicate and artistically delicious way in front of everyone. The disturbing last notes of the Moderato echoed through the theatre and Odette fell into a painful death in front of him. And then you were gone.

He was still getting used to the lights when they all walked out towards the lobby and his mind was still trapped inside that dreary, foggy stage where your ghost had danced for about two hours. Max kept pulling his sleeve, asking him if he had liked the show and Oh, wasn’t it so sad? Wasn’t it so sad how fate kept people apart in fairytales?

All Steve could do was nod absently as he tapped his shoe against the red carpet of the lobby while everyone waited for you. He scratched the back of his neck nervously as he saw Barb talking to your parents next to the exit. She was still holding the flowers he should’ve given you right after you left the show; with your hair still up a bun and your sparkly make up still on. In another life, you would’ve jumped into his arms right after and he would’ve wrapped you in a hug like a precious thing. He would’ve told you how proud of you he was. But the more he thought about it, the more he felt the insides of his throat closing, the knot of his stomach growing, and the blood leaving his face.

‘I think I’ll see you guys at home.’ He turned to his dad then.

Mr Harrington stared at his son for a long beat before taking a quick glance at the place where your parents waited. Steve thought that for a second he had figured him out, he probably had already if he was smart enough, but he just couldn’t talk about it. Not here, at least.

So, all his dad could do was nod carefully. Steve returned the glance; he was saying thank you, he was saying I’m sorry. As he had so many times before during the last year.

‘Where’s he going?’ He heard the voice of his mother as he made his way out towards the parking lot, but he couldn’t stay. He knew he couldn’t.

The blanket of snow that fell on Hawkins overnight glistened in the quiet morning of Christmas Day. You woke up early, feeling rested for the first time in forever, but you still stayed in bed for a little while, looking at the way the sunlight reflected on the distant snow.

One year ago, you had woken up to the awful news of Steve’s accident. It had happened around lunch, while you slept through a hungover in the living room after spending the whole night watching movies with Barb. You heard the phone in the distance, you mother picked up, and when she gasped, loudly and urgently, you got up disoriented.

Now everything was quiet. Your parents were probably still asleep while you ate your cereal leaning on the counter. They had driven Barb to her parents’ late after dinner last night, when half the town went to Enzo’s to celebrate your success. It had been nice to be the centre of attention, to receive flowers and cards and enjoy the praise after all the hard work. Still, you had to try hard to keep your eyes away from the empty seat next to Max the whole night. Many times your eyes fell on the restaurant’s doors, hoping that maybe he’d walk in with a forgiving smile, but it didn’t happen, and you went to bed feeling in your heart that things were really over before they even began.

That feeling still accompanied you as you looked back behind your shoulder to find the white landscape of the desolated pond through the window. You hadn’t gone skating in a week, but somehow the idea still didn’t seem appealing; maybe you were just tired, maybe in the last few weeks something had changed in you. You felt much more grown, less childish and impatient than before. Sad.

The nostalgia didn’t leave you the whole day as you helped your mother with the cooking and your father lit the chimney. The snow slowly melted as you opened presents, the house filled with the smell of roast and cinnamon, and when your dad took out a bottle of his finest whiskey and the guests started arriving, you excused yourself to get changed upstairs.

It took you a while to get the courage to leave your room. You stroked the front skirt of the black dress as you looked at yourself in the mirror, wondering if the hair updo was too much, if you were too much. Maybe you would avoid the drinking tonight and stay in the shadows of the living room. Maybe all that attention from the day before had left you drained.

You walked down the steps slowly, carefully trying to peek through the bannisters to see who was downstairs. A few of your father’s coworkers, some women that were part of the knitting club your mother attended, Nancy Wheeler’s parents…

No. It was too much, you were about to walk back into your room when Linda Harrington appeared through the corridor.

‘There she is!’ She seemed excited at the sight of you. Her glass of wine was half empty and most of her lipstick was gone, so you assumed she had at least downed half a bottle. You laughed shyly, making your way down as she extended a hand towards you. ‘Our little swan! I still can’t believe how wonderful you were last night.’

Mrs Harrington hugged you from your side fondly as you walked towards the living room together. You recognised a few joyful people from the Fishing Association, and you tried to smile and wave as the noise of chatter and Christmas music made you flushed and a little bit overwhelmed.

It was very warm inside, yet you still rubbed your arms as you looked around the room, maybe looking for your parents but really just looking for him. But Steve wasn’t here, he wasn’t anywhere. He hadn’t come. You couldn’t believe he hadn’t come.

You blinked your tears away as you discreetly made your way back to your own room, passing through a few people that were chatting on the couch, until you made it back to the entrance. And then you stopped in your tracks when you saw the familiar silhouette of Steve Harrington sitting down at the bottom of the stairs with a glass in his hands.

He absentmindedly looked up to find you standing on the living room’s entrance. His eyes went to your hands when you tried to pull your sleeves over your fingers out of habit, but your dress didn’t have any. You felt naked.

Steve looked down at his glass again, and you finally got the courage to walk and sit down next to him. From here, the party sounded like a distant dream; the sound of laughter and chatter were like a forgotten memory, the clash of cutlery and glasses overshadowed by the music while the tense silence sat between you two.

‘Merry Christmas.’ You said softly after a while.

His lips lifted subtly as his eyes still stayed on the drink in his hand. He was about to take another sip, but then he seemed to have changed his mind and put it aside on the step below. You felt silly when he attempted to look back at you, your eyes fell to your hands immediately while all the blood on your body rushed to your face.

‘Merry Christmas.’ He said as well.

You both stayed silent for a while, avoiding each other’s gaze as the party progressed and everyone inside seemed to get more enthusiastic.

‘Congratulations on the show.’ He said then.

‘Oh, thanks.’ You smiled softly at him before looking away to the decorations on the front door. A few people walked out of the living room to go out smoking then, and you and Steve smiled politely at them before they closed the door behind them.

‘You know,’ You started, still looking at your hands. ‘I never said I’m sorry for not going to see you at the hospital after the accident.’

You heard him laugh softly next to you. ‘That was a year ago.’

‘Still.’ You shrugged. ‘It must’ve been hard.’

‘It was hard.’ He said after a while. ‘…It was also very frustrating to see you skate every morning while I was paralyzed in bed. But I got used to it.’ 

You nodded softly, looking at your hands while you tried to find the words to say what you wanted to say beyond your foolish apologies. You were about to open your mouth when he spoke.

‘I’m sorry.’ Your eyes looked back at him as he studied your face. ‘I never meant to upset you that day at the parking lot.’

‘You didn’t.’ You rushed to say. ‘I was just being stupid. I’m sorry, Steve.’

He frowned then, considering your words before he nodded softly. Silence took over once again and you felt your heart beating against your chest as you swallowed hard. Again, you were thinking of the right words to say what you really meant, something, anything that could mend the situation, but you felt as if thousands of invisible eyes were on you as you kept nervously playing with your hands.

‘You’re not stupid.’

‘Huh?’ You said looking back at him. You must’ve looked so clueless, feeling the back of your neck sweaty.

This time his laugh echoed in the little space you shared, as he looked back at you with a softness he had been holding back during these last agonising minutes filled with small talk.

‘You’re not stupid.’ He said again, this time smiling at you.

‘Oh.’ You said under your breath, thinking that if you looked away then maybe your insecurity wouldn’t be so obvious. You felt worse than stupid, you felt defeated. ‘Well, I don’t know. I’ve been feeling pretty stupid the last few days, if I’m honest with you. You see, I…’

His eyebrows lifted subtly as he looked back at you attentively, but your eyes couldn’t hold the sweet brown of his. You turned even more nervous when they fell on his mouth, and then you were looking away again, because your lips had forgotten the rest of the sentence. You tried to hush the voice in your head that reminded you why you sucked so much at this: because you had never done it before.

Steve was about to say something then, but you had finally found some courage, some humble remains of dignity inside you when you decided to speak again.

‘Do you remember,’ You interrupted him with an unintentional aggressiveness, feeling that you had messed up the calm, cosy atmosphere, but well. ‘Do you remember the first time you tried to skate?’  

He sat quietly, maybe remembering, but you weren’t about to let him speak now. You were too hyped to, too terrified to let yourself get carried away by cowardice.

‘I do.’ You proceeded. ‘I-I was seven. It was a year before you moved. I saw these pair of skates at Miss Vinny’s second-hand shop. You know the one that used to be ‘round the old gas station?’ You were almost swallowing every word as you kept going enthusiastically. ‘They were silver and white, and they had stars on them and I just— I went crazy. I needed them.’

Steve laughed softly at your story as you looked back at him feeling more scared every second that passed, uncertain that he knew where you were going, feeling your heart on your throat the whole time.

‘So, you know me, I can’t take no for an answer, and I begged dad, and he got them, of course.’ You kept going. ‘And well, one winter morning he and I went to the pond… I put them on. And I guess I expected to be good at it at the first try, but I had this— this feeling Steve, in my stomach. This awful, sickening vertigo that I felt inside as I stood there. Because I had never done this before.’

He stayed very still as he looked at you, and you swallowed hard as you hoped he’d understand what you meant, you hoped to God that he’d get it.

‘So, I did what I used to do sometimes, what I do still, which is basically throw myself into the unknown and hope for the best and pretend that I’m perfect at something that I’m not.’ You said looking down at your hands, feeling the tears pooling on your eyes and goddammit why were you trying to pull your sleeves again if you knew you didn’t have any? ‘And then I fell.’

You looked back at him, feeling the tears rolling down your cheeks while his eyes were desperately studying your face. His soft hands found your arms and they were rubbing them so softly, as if his fingertips had a lifetime of experience stroking the arms of girls who cried on Christmas day.

‘I fell so hard.’ You admitted to yourself before looking back at him. ‘…And the ice was cold.’

And the ice was cold? You shut your eyes then, hiding your face on your hands and then placing your forehead on your knees as you felt that you had made a complete fool of yourself once again.

‘Hey.’ You knew he was smiling even without looking at him, just by the way he said it. His hands found either side of your head before you felt his mouth kissing your hairline softly. His lips still brushed against your scalp as he whispered. ‘Hey. ‘S fine, sweetheart. I think I’m getting where you’re coming from.’

‘I feel so stupid.’ You murmured.

‘You’re not stupid.’ He tried to search for your face with little kisses that started at your crown and followed down all the way to your ear and cheek. ‘You could never be.’

Your teary face came out of its hiding place then, and you looked back at him fully ashamed and flushed. Your fingers found the collar of his sweater as you tried to get distracted with something, because the hem felt just like the sleeves of your shrugs. Because it felt like him, and it smelled so much like him.

‘I hurt you.’ You said softly.

‘For a very valid reason.’ There was a shadow on his smile on his mortified face as he cupped your cheeks. ‘I should’ve done things differently. I didn’t know.’

You blinked a couple of times before rolling your eyes at him.

‘Well, you must have because I never touched you.’ You said almost annoyed.

He laughed then, throwing his head back before he brought your face close enough so his nose could brush yours.

‘I wasn’t even thinking about that.’ He whispered cheekily. ‘Was too busy looking at you.’

You pushed his chest then, like you had so many times before, but this once he was able to get back at you when he pulled you in playfully, and his lips finally crashed against yours. You melted like ice, like honey, like a little helpless snowflake. And as you deliciously sighed under his lips and your grip on his sweater slowly turned into your flat palm over his beating heart, you thought that maybe there was something deeply sweet inside you that had desperately been trying to come out for a while. It just needed a little push.

🏷️: @keerysfolklore @starrgurl46

December 2020, that time of the year.

December was the month of festivities, everyone knew that. It was the time to make your house feel cosy and prepare for the celebrations of Christmas and New Year's with your family. Hayden watched as Bubble struggled to set up her Christmas tree, and he couldn't help but laugh at her failed attempts.

“You are not being very supportive right now, Moose,” she said, playfully scolding him.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “But this is really funny.”

She dropped the lights, that were around her, in frustration and glared at him. “How so?”

“You look like one of those elves from Rise of the Guardians with the lights all around you.” He kept laughing, his eyes shut tight as he crouched from his laughter.

Hayden’s masculine laugh was so contagious that she started laughing too. He had a point, she did look like one of those elves in the tangle of lights and limbs.

She was so concentrated on the talk that they were having while she tried to fix the mess she made at the beginning of the year when she took all the ornaments down, she ended up making a bigger mess and got caught in the middle.

While they kept laughing, she almost fell and that was when his laugh died. "Please don't bash your head on the floor, Bubble." He said looking at her a little bit worried.

"Relax, I'll be careful." She said, grabbing the arm of the sofa to brace herself as she walked to her seat and worked on the mess of lights. "You already put up your tree?"

"No, Bri and I will put up together next week when she stays here, so I'm waiting for her." The soft smile on his lips when he talked about his beloved daughter made her smile too.

The conversation kept going as she kept fighting with the lights making him laugh. "What are you going to do for the special day?”

“It’s my turn to host this year, so we are going to celebrate here.” He shrugged. “You?”

“At my sister’s but it’s a tradition that the kids come here to look for their presents, so that’s why I’m currently an elf tangled in lights.” She giggled and he smiled at the sound. “New year’s is my turn to be a hostess.”

They kept talking, telling each other what they planned to buy their respective families and every little nonsense that passed through their minds.

Finally, Christmas arrived and Hayden and Briar were sitting criss-crossed on the floor ready to open the presents, his parents watching them with a smile on their faces. The little girl had a bunch of presents around her, opening one by one with sparkles in her eyes. 

“I think this one you are going to love.” In his hand, he had the package he had received a couple of days before and a big smile on his lips.

With all the excitement of the world, Briar opened the present and squealed with delight. In her hands were an Anastasia book and a tiara. “I love it!”

Hayden laughed, “Want me to put on the tiara?” The little girl nodded excitedly. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” she hugged him.

But he shook his head, embracing her. “It wasn’t me, Bri.”

“Was it a Bubble?” He smiled, nodding. “Send her a picture, Daddy, and thank her for me!” Hurriedly the little girl posed with the book, the tiara on her head and a big smile on her lips for him to take a pic.

Obeying quickly he took the pic and when he was about to send it, Briar put a present on his lap. “Open it, it’s from Bubble too cause it has the same wrapping.”

Delicately, he pulled the wrapping paper off and immediately laughed at the packaging. “Oh God.” Briar was jumping up and down to see what it was so he gently took the present out of the box and showed it to her, making her laugh too.

In his hands was a spatula with the face of Darth Vader and the handle was a lightsaber and to put a cherry on top a matching apron that resembled Darth’s uniform. They were all giggling but his attention was on the note inside the box. 

To take your cooking skills to the dark side, but not too much cause it’ll burn. Happy Christmas Moose and Princess, wishing you all the best and lots of tasty food. 

With love, Bubble.

“Come on Daddy, take another photo.” Briar pulled from his hand and he, being such a girl dad, did as she said.

As father and daughter posed, everyone around them was interested in who this Bubble was and why she had them smiling so much. 

Her phone rang in her pocket, pulling her away from her conversation. 

Hayden M

Photo

Photo

Photo

She loves it and says thank you very much

A smile appeared on her lips when she saw the photos. In the first one, Briar was posing very princess-like with the book and the tiara in her head. The second one was a father-daughter selfie, Hayde was showing very proudly his spatula while Briar hung from his chest. The third one made her heart warm, and her knees buckled a little if she was honest. Hayden poses with the apron with a big smile looking directly at the camera. 

It was my pleasure, truly 

By the third photo, I’ll assume you liked yours

Of course, we find it very funny.

I accomplish my mission then 

And you? Did you like yours?

I’m going to open it as soon as I arrive home with the kids

Cause it’s tradition that we open our presents together

True to her word, as soon as she arrived at her house the kids ran towards the tree dragging her with them. “Come on, hurry up!” Daniel kept pulling from her hand, making her laugh. While Brianna and Daniel were sitting around the tree piling up their presents and opening them, their parents and she were sitting on the couch eating snacks and chatting.

In the sweetest way ever, Bri put a box with wrapping paper of bubbles in different colours and sizes, probably chosen by Briar, on her lap. “From…” Her sister peeked over her shoulder. 

“Not your business.” She stuck her tongue out to her as she pulled the box closer to her chest, making them all laugh.

Delicately, she pulled the paper off and an immediate smile appeared on her face. Hayden’s gift was perfect, a beautiful frame with a Singin’ in the Rain phrase, tracing the edges she read. “The show must go on!' Come rain, come shine, come snow, come sleet, the show must go on!” 

He remembered their conversation all those months ago and that made her happy, and a little teary. In the back, it had a note that kept the smile on her lips. He’s too fucking sweet.

“Someone special?” Her sister asked. 

The smile on her lips was answering the question itself, but she just shrugged. If her concentration wasn’t on her phone, she would have seen the looks between her sister and brother-in-law.

Bubble

Best present ever 

Seriously?

You liked it?

Love it

You are the best present giver

I guess by the wrapping paper that Briar had something to do with it too

Yeah, she hand-picked it and all

Photo

Hayden opened the photo and smiled. It was a selfie of her with a big smile, to the point her eyes were almost closed, and behind her the frame on a big bookshelf. 

Already placed in the important part of my house

Love the big smile, looks amazing on you

And I’m very happy that you like it

January 2021, you and me from the night before.

First day of a new year, the first hours technically. Hayden was coming back from celebrating with Briar at her mom’s house when an idea appeared in his head, so a little detour from his house was due.

He parked his car and took a deep breath, drumming his fingers against the wheel. What are you doing Hayden? The clock on the dashboard reads 01:55 AM. Grabbing his phone, he went to his contact and bit his lip nervously. 

Should I go in or is it too much? I don’t need to walk up there, maybe it's better if I just wish her a happy new year with a call. Hayden's gaze shifts to Bubble's house, where he can see the faint glow of lights through the windows. He takes a deep breath, contemplating his decision. Fuck it. 

One beep, two beeps, thre-. “Hello Hayden, hi!” Her cheerful voice reached his ears.

“Hi, Bubble.” It was impossible for him to not smile. “How’s everything?”

The noise died down a little, “Amazing, how was your night with the Princess?” 

“Very good, she had a blast and used the tiara as a part of her outfit.” They laughed. “Listen,” she hummed. “Are you home?”

“Yeah, we are all here, the kids asleep.” Hayden's heart races as his idea of seeing her possibly come true.

“Can you possibly…” he drummed his fingers against the wheel again “Step outside for a bit?” I'll go and wish her a happy new year, just like any friend would, just that.

“Outside my house?” She asked, confused.

“Yeah…” Instead of an affirmative response, it sounded more like a question.

“Sure, give me a second. I have to grab shoes.” She said quickly. 

The possibility of hugging Bubble, feeling her warmth and sharing a moment of celebration, made his heart race for some reason. Hayden glances at himself in the rearview mirror, adjusting his appearance, making sure he looks presentable before stepping out of the car. As soon as his feet touched the pavement, he took a moment to steady himself before walking towards Bubble's front door. As he made his way to her front door, his heart was pounding with anticipation. 

When she opened the door, a mixture of surprise and delight washed over her face, Bubble stepped outside her house with two glasses in her hand. The second they saw each other a smile instantly spread across their faces. 

She looks absolutely beautiful. Simple tailored black pants hugged her waist with a corset with sparkly details and embroidered patterns, her hair was free and slippers were on her feet. Her lips with wine stains that gave them a particular colour that made her even more beautiful in his eyes.

"You didn't have to come all the way here, Hayden. You could have just called me," Bubble said, her voice filled with warmth.

They closed the distance between each other. "I wanted to see your face," Hayden replied, his eyes sparkling with affection. “And wish you a happy New Year." 

Bubble's eyes softened, and she couldn't help but smile. “I wanted to see your face too.” Putting the glasses down, Bubble pulls Hayden into a warm embrace without hesitation.

Hayden's worries melted away as he held Bubble tightly, feeling the warmth of her embrace, his hand gently tangling in her hair as she rested her face on his chest. Her jasmine scent hit his nose and made his knees tremble a little. Oh how fucking much he had missed that smell, her smell.

Maybe it was all the wine in her blood and how fucking gorgeous he looked under the lights on her porch, but she snuggled against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat syncing with hers. They stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, savouring the quiet and tender moment. 

After who knows how long they, against everything their feelings screamed at them, pulled away from each other, but not too much. Maybe two feet away from each other, not much.

“Let’s just toast.” Quickly she grabbed the glasses and gave him one with a wink. “Don’t worry, it’s kids' champagne.”

Hayden laughed, making her smile more. “Always thinking about everything.”

“To what we toast?” She pursed her lips.

He mugged her, pursing his lips. “To... friendship?” Friendship? Really? Are you an idiot Hayden?

She groaned, tilting her head back, “Oh, come on, Moose. We can do better than that.” Her tone teasingly. 

Hayden chuckles, realising Bubble's playful challenge. He took a moment to think, his eyes dancing across her features and involuntarily he took a step closer to her again. “To taking chances.” He asked softly. 

Bubble's eyes lit up and she took a step closer to him too, her voice filled with warmth. “I like it.” Moving her glass towards his she smiled, “To taking chances, and embracing the unexpected.”

They clinked their glasses together, the sound echoing in the quiet night. As they sipped, their eyes locked, a mix of anticipation and affection passing between them.

How beautiful her eyes look under these lights. “I'm glad I took the chance to come here tonight, Bubble.”

She smiled bigly, “Me too, Hayden. I missed seeing you in person.” It was as if her hands had a mind of their own, or they were led by her heart because she hugged him again. He didn’t oppose and rested his cheek on top of her head as her arms circled around his waist.

March 2021, jealousy? Jealousy.

Hayden was at the coffee shop near her office, ready to pay for their breakfast when a hand beat him to it. “What the-'' Ready to turn around to face the owner of the money, the sweet voice he heard even in his dreams reached his ears and that hand he was dying to have intertwined against his own appeared on his line of vision. She was standing by his side with a smile on her lips. Oh how much I missed that smile. “I was going to pay for that, you know.” 

She put the change in the tip jar “Well hello to you too, Hayden” and moved out of the way.

“Bubble.” He smiled at her and she did not only smile back but kissed his cheek too. Oh how soft her lips were but how ephemeral the sensation was on his skin. Come back, come back and kiss me all over again so I can cherish it properly. 

His eyes fell on her outfit. Blue Converse, black tailored pants and a black tank top with a big light blue shirt on top. 

I have a similar shirt. He couldn't contain his brain from creating the scenario of her with bed hair, his shirt, nothing underneath and her sweet smile. 

It took Hayden a few minutes to come back to the real world but when he did, he just cleared his throat and blinked a few times. “You didn’t have to.”

But she simply shrugged. “It was our breakfast, let me treat you, Moose.” Our breakfast, how sweet.

The opportunity to tease her was right there. “How do you know it was our breakfast?” He asked with a brow raised.

She put an offended look on her face. “You go around buying every girl breakfast?” Her hand travelled to her chest where her heart was. “I’m wounded. And here I was, thinking I'm special.”

You are special. I only bought breakfast for you. And Briar and my mum and maybe my sisters if I’m in a good mood. “Cocky much?” They laughed. 

After ten minutes or so, they got their order and jumped into his car to drive the rest of the way to her office. She talked all the way while he basked in her presence, her jasmine scent invading his nostrils, hoping it would stay on his car, and how clear her voice sounded in person. After Facetiming for months, her clear sweet voice was music to his ears. Having her close to touch was divine to him. That magic moment at the beginning of the year had left him wanting for more, wishing for more.

The scene was so fucking domestic, so cute. They were riding to work together, her attention on him, her body angled in a certain way that the sun hit her in the eyes and even though the visor was down her height prevented it from properly functioning.

As soon as they reached the studio’s garage he opened the car door for her, every door that came their way actually, as the gentleman he was, and talked a little bit about everything on their way to her office.

“Hello, you two.” Charlie’s voice brought them back to the real world. “Nice to see you again, Hayden.” The boy smiled her way, “Boss” and shared what seemed to be a knowing look with her. From the corner of his eyes, and above her height, he saw how a pink colour adorned her cheeks, it suited her.

She placed a coffee in front of the boy and rolled her eyes. Did she always carry that extra coffee? I was so lost in her face that I didn't notice the extra cup? Trying to not think much about it, a little scared of the answer, Hayden followed her to the office.

For some reason her office still lacks photos, it was more personal than, almost, two years ago that was for sure, but still no photos. The drawings were there, the video camera too, even the jasmin- she stopped in her tracks and he almost crashed against her. “Sorry, Bubble.” He said with his hands on her waist. Her look was fixed on the little desk where the jasmines were supposed to be but instead, there were red roses on it. He tilted his head to the side confused. “Are you okay?”

She nodded but he didn’t buy it because she was looking at those flowers like they were carnivorous and in any second they would eat her. His hands were still on her waist and for some reason, drew soft circles there, on top of her clothes, and that seemed to bring her back to the real world. Taking a deep breath she got close to them, but not too close, just to grab the card that was peeking from them.

His blue eyes watched her attentively as her nose was scrunched, which only meant that she didn’t like flowers. “Friend?” The curiosity was killing him. Who was sending her flowers she clearly didn’t like?

To her scrunched nose, add pursed lips and a bored look on her face. “Ex actually.” She said through gritted teeth.

“Still in touch, so civil.” He mumbled taking a sip of his cup. Why did you say it when it was clear that wasn’t the case? Are you jealous?

The offended look on her face was not fake that time. “Not even close.” The card on her delicate fingers was made a ball and went directly to the bin below her desk. “I don’t know why he sent them.” Her reaction had him raising his eyebrows. Was she mad? That was her mad face? She purses her lips when she’s mad? She’s so fucking cute when she’s mad. “Charlie, can you come here and take something away please?” She said through the phone.

The dad alarm on his brain, the one that told him when something was wrong or something was dangerous, went off. “Are you allergic?” He said quickly getting up from his seat and walking towards her, stepping between the flowers and her, looking attentively at her face in case she stopped breathing suddenly and stretching his hands to take her from her forearms, afraid she would fall. 

She frowned at him but with a smile on her lips. “No, I’m not.” Her hands were on his forearms too. “Relax, I’m okay.”

He looked at her just to be sure and then to the flowers right when Charlie entered. “They are pretty.” It was true, they were, but Hayden preferred jasmine.

“I guess.” She shrugged and both of them looked at her confused. “I actually don't like them.” The brunette frowned his brows. “They are too cliché for me.” Hayden laughed and she did it too, still holding onto each other.

The moment that was created around them would become a core memory, the sunlight entering through the window illuminating the space, the synchronised laughing, the warmth of the other’s hands on their skin and, as if they were fifteen all over again, the racing hearts with flushed cheeks.

His laugh died a little earlier than hers and her laugh was melodic to him, even though it wasn’t. How beautiful you are laughing in my arms. 

Nothing broke the moment, it died down on its own. Slowly, almost reluctantly, they let go of each other and kept having breakfast. Ewan came at some point to see her, to discuss something about timing and stayed with them chatting. 

“How’s the Jedi training?” She asked, looking at them.

“Wonderful.” “Really fun.” They said at the same time and she smiled happily. “You should come, you know,” Hayden added and Ewan agreed but her head was tilted to the side, frowning. “To see how everything is going.”

“Oh yeah, I will go around one of these days but you are not going to make me train.” She warned the two of them, pointing a finger. “I do not train, under any circumstances.” The pair laughed and nodded. Hayden was with them, her, until it was time to do the wardrobe fitting so he left them to discuss their important matters. 

Trying the Jedi robes again, the saber in his belt, every little second of that process of putting on and taking the costumes made him extremely emotional. Going back to being Anakin put him on a roller coaster of emotions and now, more like for a while, he had to throw into the mix the feelings he was having for her. To say his heart had been going through a lot lately was an understatement.

The fitting was finished and he was walking through the studios, going back to her office, to see if she wanted to have lunch with him when he bumped into Ewan. “Hey, how did it go?” 

They walked side by side. “Good, lots of memories.”

The Scottish nodded. “Yeah, tell me about it.” They laughed. “The sabers and everything, it’s amazing.” The brunette nodded. “I felt like a kid all over again.”

Hayden felt the exact same way, not only because of all the filming and reminiscing but with his feelings. He was a fifteen-year-old with a massive crush again, her mere presence around him made him smile like a boy and felt light. Thinking about her and there she was, standing a few metres away from them talking with someone. 

Whatever his dear friend was saying didn’t reach his ears because his attention was solemnly on her, like always. She looked uncomfortable, her body language screamed it and he noticed it right away, even if her back was towards him. She wasn’t facing directly at the person in front of her, her arms were crossed and she kept looking around, like searching for something, for someone. Who’s that? He stopped walking to inspect the scene, and Ewan stopped a few steps ahead of him.

“Who’s that?” Hayden interrupted his friend, who looked where he was looking and shrugged. “That one, right there. Who is it?” His eyes were fixed on the guy in front of her, too close to her for his liking, and that kept trying to get her attention.

“Don’t know.” Ewan shook his head “Why?” and raised an eyebrow looking at him.

But the question fell on deaf ears because Hayden kept looking towards her and when her eyes connected with his, his protective side emerged. She seemed relaxed as soon as he found him but a second later she raised her eyebrows, opened her eyes wide and then looked back at the guy in front of her. Walking past his friend, he went directly towards where she was. 

He stood tall, making him seem taller than he already was, chest puffed and chin raised. In a few strikes he was standing behind her, his hand found his rightful place on her back and she relaxed against him as soon as he arrived. “You alright?” His tone was low for her to only hear, his breath ghosting in her neck, but no response came and instead only a few seconds' look from her that clearly indicated that it wasn't the case. “We were looking for you, are you ready to go?” He said a little louder.

The guy in front of them shut up the second Hayden arrived, but he didn’t pay attention to him. His eyes were on her and only her. Please tell me if something is bothering you. “Hey, I’m Tyler.” The guy stretched his hand towards him.

Blue eyes looked at him up and down and kept staring him down. “Hayden.” Oh, how he wished that his voice mimicked Vader’s at that moment because it would, for sure, make the idiot in front of him fear him, but a strong grip would do the work. All that with his left hand was still on her back and her jasmine scent calming him down, her warmth keeping him centred.

She looked up and gave him a tiny smile. “Tyler was leaving and so were we.” We, as in her and me. Not you dude. “Goodbye.” She didn’t wait for an answer and turned around, walking in another direction. Leaving him missing her closeness.

Hayden stood there, for a few seconds, still staring him down with a serious look on his face. The only moment he didn’t look at him was when his eyes landed on the nearest exit and then slowly looked back at the guy. Take the hint and walk away. Not wasting more time he followed her, leaving the guy behind, where he was supposed to be.

When he reached her side, his eyes raked her up and down, searching for some bad thing. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Hayden. I'm fine." The soft use of his name grounded him. Say my name again, say it a thousand times, say it in French. 

He nodded. "Who was he by the way?"

Her mad face became present in an instant. "My ex." She turned around to look at where he used to be.

"The roses guy?" A frown appeared on his face and she nodded. "What did he want? What was he doing here?" The protective mode was on again.

She looked back at him, with a tiny smile and her head tilted to the side. "He came to a casting and wanted to say hi or something like that, I don't know and I don't care." Her tone was firm, "I'm just glad you came and he is gone" but the softness of those words was something else.

You want me to die? You surely want me to have a heart attack. Unnoticed by him, the smile that appeared on his lips was worthy of an obvious fool in love and his hand almost cupped her face.

The cute moment was broken when her phone started ringing, he took a step back and let her answer. How close were they standing to each other? His mind was racing, his heart was racing and, being honest, he needed those few minutes without her near to properly be a functioning human being again and not a fool led by his feelings.

"I got to go, there are a few things I need to take care of at the office. But I came to see how the fitting went." She played with the phone on her fingers.

How sweet. "Great, lots of feelings." That’s an understatement. 

Her hand travelled to his bicep "Tell me over lunch?" and gave it a little squeeze with a smile on her lips.

Caught by surprise, he raised his eyebrows, and before she could back down he nodded. "Of course, yeah." They smiled. "My treat though, cause you already paid for breakfast, Bubble." 

"Deal." She said laughing, he did too.

His eyes followed her while she walked away, a smile on their lips and Ewan approached him with a smirk on his lips. "Well, I didn't know you were the jealous type."

"What?" He gave her one last look before turning to his friend, blue eyes with clear confusion, who had a flat look on his face. “I’m not jealous.” Hayden shook his head frowning. “I’m being absolutely reasonable, she looked uncomfortable so I went there to help." He defended himself with a tone a little higher than his normal one. 

The Scottish, with his hands in his pockets, raised his shoulder and pursed his lips. "Sure, she looked uncomfortable, but admit you were jealous." 

The brunette pursed his lips too. "I wa-”

"And you were a little protective too." He interrupted him.

"Wha-”

"I get it." Ewan shrugged again. "I would be the same way with my wife if something like that happened."

He frowned. “What? Who talked about marriage?” His mind was racing at 100mph.

But his friend laughed. “Look at you all worked up.” Even though Hayden tried to deny it, Ewan kept laughing. “You are so jealous.”

“Am not!” Am I? No, not at all.

“Yes you are, and to that add the worst liar for being an actor too.” His friend slapped him on his shoulder and walked away. Leaving Hayden standing there while he felt like his friend slapped him with facts left and right in the span of seconds.

Jealous? Me? Pff. Never. But wait, maybe I am. No, I can't be. Definitely not jealous. She looked uncomfortable with that guy and I did what I thought best, just that. Nothing more.

May 2021, little intruders on set.

The shooting started a few weeks ago, but Hayden was going to keep training for the fighting scenes, determined to make them perfect.

The day was almost coming to an end and he didn’t see her at any given moment, her too engrossed in filming and him with the training. So, he was making his way to his office, to see her at least for a few minutes.

“Hello, Charlie.” The boy behind the desk smiled at him. “Is she inside?”

“Yes, go.” Charlie had a mischievous smirk on his lips, but he paid no mind to it.

Walking a few metres from the reception to her office, he could hear the happy squeals from inside and her characteristic laugh. After knocking on the door, it died down. “Come in,” Her sweet voice said.

As soon as he set his feet inside, surprise gasps received him. “Anakin.” Being recognized as Anakin never fails to make him happy, after all, it was a character he held dear to his heart.

Sitting in the middle of the office, papers and coloured pencils scattered around the floor, were two kids, a boy and a girl, looking at him in awe. He looked at them with a smile on his face and walked further inside the room.

With them, sitting with her legs tangled was with one of her big happy smiles. “Kids, Hayden.” She caressed the heads of the little kids. Oh, what a sight. “Hayden, Brianna and Daniel.” They were looking at him with big eyes in awe.

They were quickly standing up and he crouched down a little in front of them to look at their eyes, he extended his hand. “Nice to meet you guys.” They shook it quickly. “I heard so much about you two.”

From up close, they looked identical. “Really?” They asked at the same time.

“Yeah, your aunt talks all the time about both of you.” He could see how she smiled at the scene. Brianna blushed at that and Daniel smiled happily. “Are you visiting the set?” The pair nodded. “And? What do you think?”

“Amazing,” Brianna said. “Everything is incredible,” Daniel looked at him as if he was a superhero.

Hayden saw her getting up and extended his hand to help her. When she was on her feet, he pulled her closer to hug her, the scent of jasmine in her hair invaded his nostrils. “Bubble.”

Her soft giggle reached his ears. “Moose.” The nickname made him laugh. “What are you doing here?”

They stood close, the two kids looking at them with eyes opened big. “I didn’t see you today, so I came to say hello.” He wanted so badly to move the loose strand of hair out of her face.

“Did you know that she used to have a poster of you in her room?” Daniel said, looking at him with curious eyes.

“Really?” Hayden raised an eyebrow, teasingly, at her and the little boy nodded.

“I was a kid.” She tried to act as if it was cool but the blush that started creeping to her cheeks gave her away, “Where did you get that?” and looked at the twin surprised.

“Mum told us,” Brianna said, still looking at Hayden.

“Why that doesn't surprise me.” He heard her mumble under her breath, that close they were. “What else did she tell you?”

“That you were a nerd.” The little girl said, raising her shoulders nonchalantly.

Her mouth fell agape. “I was not!” She said offended. 

But the little boy nodded. “She said you were.”

Hayden was finding the whole exchange hilarious. “Your mother was a cheerleader, of course to her I was a nerd but I wasn't.” She crossed her arms, like a little girl when she was mad.

“You kinda are.” Brianna looked at her with a puppy eye look and Hayden laughed, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to not laugh too.

She crouched down to look at them, “I'm the one who can get you free tickets to Disneyland and conventions, so if I were you I would think my next words very carefully.” and narrowed her eyes threateningly, it was clear it was a joke by how much she was pressing her lips to not laugh.

The kids looked at each other for a few seconds “You are our favourite aunt” and said with sweet smiles on their lips, too sweetly.

She pressed her lips to not laugh. “Say that your father's sister and we are cool.”

They shook hands. “We always say that to her.”

Hayden laughed at the conversation. “You two are my favourites.” She kissed their heads.

“Now go with Charlie.” The twins happily obliged. “And don’t cause havoc!” She said, popping her head out of the office. 

After exchanging some words with Charlie she looked back at him for a few seconds and then at the grown.

He waited for a few seconds but the need to tease her beat him. “So....you were a nerd.”

A groan left her lips and he couldn't hold the laugh that escaped him. “No, I wasn't.”

“What were you then?” Tell me about you, I want to know everything.

Nonchalantly, she pursed her lips “Normal” and walked towards the mess of papers and pencils on the floor.

“You were one of those that get along with everyone?” He raised an eyebrow and helped her pick everything up.

But she shook her head “Far from it,” making him frown “but I didn't stand out so it didn't matter.”

Impossible. “I highly doubt you didn't stand out, but okay.” She rolled her eyes. “If you were normal, what makes your sister say you were a nerd? Apart from being a Star Wars fan.”

The brunette picked up the pencils while she picked up the papers. “She was a cheerleader, everything apart from that was a nerd to her.”

“Come on...did you do cosplay?” His blue eyes were full of curiosity.  

“No.” She shook her head.

“Dungeons and dragons?” Again, another shook off the head. “Maths tournament?” 

She looked at him biting the inside of her cheek, a little embarrassed. “Champion for three years by my hand.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Impressive, very impressive.”

The fact that he wasn’t teasing her, or making fun of her, made her visibly relax “I know” and a smug smile appeared on her lips. 

“Theatre?” Different departments of his school years popped into his brain.

“Had to.” The frown on his brows made her explain. “I can't act to save life, but I had to do it so I could gather experience.” He nodded understandingly. “I acted in a play as a tree once though.”

They laughed. “The most beautiful tree for sure.” It escaped his mouth too fast for him to even think what he was saying. But it’s true. The blush on her face made him smile proudly. “The yearbook?”

“No, but I had a friend that was there and I went to help him out sometimes.” He passed her the pencils “Thank you” and she smiled at him. 

“The band?” He got up and helped her stand up too.

The tingles from hugging her minutes ago were still there and touching her hand for a second time, even for a few fleeting seconds, made his knees weak. Teenager behaviour Hayden. 

She shook her head. “I can't even play the triangle.” They laughed.

“I’ll teach you to play the piano, sometime.” He winked and she blushed. She leaned on the table and he stood in front of her, their height difference more prominent. And he loved every second of it. “Any sport?” He asked, looking down at her.

Her lips pursed, while she nodded. “Gimnastic, three years.” Flexible, that’s interesting.

Horny behaviour, Hayden. Shaking his head to get rid of the inappropriate thoughts. He asked again. “You have a thing for number 3?”

But she looked curiously at him, for a few seconds, tilting her head to the side. “It's my lucky number.” She shrugged. 

Hayden paid attention to her outfit. White simple long-sleeve t-shirt, showing off the curves of her torso, green cargo pants, that fitted her well in the waist and her Doc Martens. He loved her style, since day one.

“Back to school topic,” she nodded, “you weren't a nerd.”

“Told you,” she said in a singing tone, making him roll his eyes. “I just went there, passed grades as fast as I could to finish and got the hell out of that place to go to university and do what I like.”

He looked around her office. “Seems like you are doing it.”

A smile appeared on her lips. “The crazy little Star Wars fan that I was would have jumped on the couch the moment someone told her this is what she was going to do when she grew up."

He laughed at the idea of a mini her jumping all over the place. “I would have loved to meet her.” His tone was so soft, almost like the way she was looking at him. “More than anything because of my poster on her bedroom wall.” 

She groaned, hiding her face in her hands, “Oh god” and he laughed, pulling her into his embrace. It was a natural response, the magnetic feeling in between them was too much to deny it. The need to have her in his arms, just like at the beginning of the year, was stronger than his critical thinking.

Unknown to him, the deep sound of his laugh, the way his chest moved against her cheek and the way he was holding her, all made her weak on the knees. The mix of his perfume and cigarette drove her straight to her wildest dreams, that took place on that specific July night but the only difference was that they were under the same roof, in person. Close enough to tear each other's clothes. 

He was coming down from his laugh when he looked down at her, blushing adorning her cheeks, and she looked up at him. Your eyes are beautiful. Your smile is one of my favourite things in this world. A smile plastered on their faces.

“I'm going to kill my sister because those kids are too cute.” She said, still a little embarrassed about the poster incident. 

Delicately, as if she was the most expensive work of art in the whole universe, he tucked that wild strand of hair behind her ear. “Don't change the subject.” You are still holding her, Hayden.

Your embrace makes me dizzy. After a few seconds, where she was lost in his eyes, trying so hard to not lean into his hand, she spoke again. “I already told you. I was a fangirl, what else do you want me to say?”

Everything about you used to do. You used to kiss the poster? I can kiss you now if you ask me. Technically, if I lean down a little, I could. WHAT?! “I thought you were a fan of the movies, not me.” 

“Don't feel special Moose,” he raised an eyebrow. “I had a poster of Obi-Wan too.” She laughed at how he rolled his eyes.

“And that's how you kill the mood.” He acted offended and took a step back. Come back. Hold me again. Hold me for a million days. But they laughed. 

“For real now,” she looked sincerely at him “I am a fan of the movies but you were my favourite of them all” and winked an eye.

That simple gesture, brain short-circuited him. “Thank you, Bubble.”

Feeling a little bold, she took a step closer to him, head tilted to the side. “And I used to have a massive crush on you.” Such a liar, you still have a massive school-girl crush for him.

If his brain was short-circuited, now there must be smoke coming from his ears. “Used to?” He choked out. Would you like to have it now? So that way I'm not the only one having a crush. 

“Yeah,” she nodded. Is it me or suddenly we are in the sun? And his lips parted a little, her eyes falling there.

The cute, a little hot, scene was cut short by her phone ringing. “Shit.” She mumbled under her breath. “It’s Charlie, I gotta take it.” 

He cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, yeah” nodding. 

They talked for a few minutes, she even laughed a little and then hung up. “They are in the gift shop and Charlie is afraid they are going to try to buy the whole thing.” Hayden couldn't laugh at that. “I’m going to pick them up and take them home.”

“I’ll walk with you.” He said quickly. “I’m finished with the training for today, so I’m heading out too.”

She nodded “Yeah, okay” and pointed over her shoulder. “I’ll grab our things and we can head there.”

After a few minutes, they were walking out of her office. He held the door open for her, as usual. While they were walking around the set, they talked about their days and how they went.

The brunette found it extremely cute how she moved her hands while she explained something. Too absorbed in her storytelling and too focused on him, he hopped so, she didn't notice the golf cart coming behind them nor the prop guys in a hurry towards them, so swiftly Hayden put his hand on her back and swapped places with her.

She was walking on the wall side and him on the street side. His hand still ghosted on her back, guiding her around. The feeling of wanting to kiss her skin from that night in July still burns in his memory and now it was mixed with the closeness they were having. That definitely would hunt him in his sleep.

June 2021, girls team.

His day had started early, having been woken up by Bri due to her excitement for the day that awaited them. The little girl asked him like a hundredth time if she was finally going to meet the Bubble in person and each and every time he said yes with a smile on his lips. 

 “I can’t wait to see her,” Bri said as she jumped in the passenger seat. 

Hayden chuckled, “I’m sure she feels the same, sweetie.” 

And it was true. He had to carefully pick the day to bring her to the set and Bubble helped him, clearing the entire day to just shoot Anakin scenes. Briar was young, she still hadn't seen the dark parts of the Star Wars prequels, she knew her daddy was Darth Vader but had not seen it with her own eyes.  

His heart beat with anticipation at the day they were about to have. Briar had been the centre of his universe since her birth, and bringing her to his workplace, to the one where he had to be his favourite character, the one he held most dear to his heart, felt like merging his two worlds. 

As he was preparing for the upcoming scenes, sitting in the makeup trailer, with Briar spinning on the chair next to his, the familiar scent reached his nose first and then he saw her. 

“Oh my!” She gasped. “Why did nobody inform me we have a princess on the set with us today?” Quickly her eyes met Hayden’s and gave him a fleeting wink before looking directly at the little girl.

There she was and a smile appeared on Hayden’s lip, just like in Briar’s. 

“Bubble!” The girl smiled at her, Briar said with a glint in her eyes. As if she knew her from her whole, short, life, the girl jumped from the chair and hugged Bubble’s legs.

Her melodic laugh reached his ears as she caressed the little girl’s hair. “Hello Princess, it’s lovely to properly meet you.”

While the two of them talked, Hayden eyed her without the worry of being caught. She was wearing blue cargo pants, her characteristic Doc Martens, a black tank top, two braids keeping her hair tamed and a black cap to complete the outfit. 

“Are you excited for today?” Bubble crouched down to Briar’s eye level and the girl nodded eagerly. “I have a very important task for you,” the girl’s eyes widened. “If you are up to it, that’s it.”

“Of course,” the little girl put her small hands on her shoulders, making the grown-ups laugh a little.

Oh, how sweet was the sight of that smile? “Splendid,” Bubble said. “Would you be my assistant director today?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. 

Briar nodded enthusiastically and then looked at her father. “Did you hear Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetie,” Hayden nodded, smiling, something he seemed to not stop doing since the jasmine-scented woman walked through the trailer doors.

“Can I Daddy, can I?” She pleaded, even though she already agreed. “Please, pretty please.” She ran to him and clutched his legs. 

Caressing softly her hair, which matched his in tone, “Of course, sweetie.”

Bubble’s heart melted in that instant; she had seen Briar grow through her cell phone screen during their daily Facetime, and seeing her in person, with Hayden treating her so gently, with so much love in his eyes, felt like witnessing the most tender and authentic moments of life, the kind that were too precious and real to be scripted. How I wish I had my camera here.

Without waiting for a second, Briar ran back to her and grabbed her hand. “Okay, I’m ready.” She nodded confidently and looked up at her smiling.

“Perfect,” Bubble touched her nose. “Mr Christensen here, has a little more time in the make-up chair?”

He scrunched his nose at how she called him. It sounded strange coming from her lips, he had been Moose for so long, Starboy prior to that, and Hayden in more personal moments, and he didn’t to be called anything else than that. Okay, maybe one or two other ways far more personal, but never Mr Christensen. 

“I think so, yes.” Briar nodded. 

It was true, Hayden sat not long before she arrived and the process stopped entirely when she walked through the door, and he still had to pass through the wardrobe.

“You are correct, Miss Christensen,” he played along. 

Bubble smiled widely at the situation. “Very well, we should be going to see if everything is prepared on set and we’ll see you when it’s time to shoot, Mr Chistensen.” 

He saw how hard she was trying to keep a serious face, how hard she was pressing her lips to not laugh and how with a simple raise of brow from his part almost made her burst in laughter. 

“Very well,” he repeated. “I’ll see you when it’s time to shoot, Directors,” and reassured. 

He saw them walk away hand in hand pleased and if it meant seeing the big smile on Briar and Bubble's faces, Hayden would play along for the rest of the day.

After another two hours, Hayden was finally making his way to the set and met Ewan there. “Where’s Bri?” The Scottish looked around.

He told her how his own daughter left him the second Bubble appeared, but rather than being sad, he found the whole thing funny and cute. Loving how despite Briar’s shy ways, much like him, she seemed to shine in the presence of the jasmine-scent-cheerful woman.  

“Ah!” Ewan laughed. “Another Christensen falling for our Director’s sweetness I see.” 

Before he could question what he meant by that, his eyes fell on the tall and small figures not too far from him, matching headsets around their necks, and as he walked closer he realised that the cap Bubble had when he saw her was no longer in her head but in Briar’s instead. Hayden watched them with a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, but he was sure it was there to stay for the whole day. 

The pair pointed at them and Ewan clapped his back, bringing him back from the daydreaming, “Let’s go, they are calling us.”

“Here they are!” Bubble said with a smile on her lips. “Ewan, I want to present to you my number one assistant director, Briar Rose Christensen.” 

His friend crouched down a little and shook his daughter’s hand. “Very pleased to meet you, Miss Christensen.”

“Hello,” his little girl sounded so confident and from up close he saw that she was carrying a badge with her name and the “Assistant Director N°1” on it. 

His blue eyes found her’s and without uttering a word he conveyed what he was feeling at that moment with a soft smile and she seemed to understand because she smiled just the same and winked an eye again. Unknowingly to him, her hands itched to touch his arm just to make her point clear but chose to restrain from it and just bury them in her pockets.

Oh, how lovely it was to see them interact. How soft and attentive she’s with her, how Bri clings to her side, to her hand and every word that leaves her sweet lips. He witnessed how those two spoke during their daily Facetime, but seeing that in person, how easily they liked and shared things, was something far more beautiful. 

They were about to start shooting their scene in the Jedi temple so everyone went to their positions, Hayden stayed back to kiss Bri goodbye for the moment. “Be the best Jedi knight out there, Daddy!” She called sweetly, warming his heart.

“Of course, sweetie.” He kissed her forehead and caressed her hair. 

He locked eyes with Bubble and she gestured with her head to the side, making him follow her. “Yeah?”

“First,” she looked him up and down. “It’s really good to see you in Jedi robes,” her fingers traced delicately the black leather material from his sort of Jedi vest. 

“Thank you,” he took a small step closer to her, wanting to feel her warm embrace as much as he could. “It feels good to wear them.”

She smiled at him and his knees trembled a little. Surely, it’s jitters from the scene, not for her sweet sweet smile. 

“Second,” her voice brought him back. “Are you okay with me asking Briar to be my assistant and the headset thing?” He noticed the nervous ticks on her, and how she played with her nails. “I know it’s late for asking but I got carried away and I want to make the day memorable for her, and and-”

“Bubble,” delicately, he placed his big hands on her small shoulders, his touch calming her down instantly. “It’s more than okay.” He reassured her with a smile, “You are making her day, truly, she hasn’t stopped smiling for a second.” 

“She has your smile,” she blurted. Incredible, girl. Tell him how you have his beautiful smile tattooed on your brain. Hayden chuckled and she smiled. Oh, that sweet sound. 

He said something but he couldn’t register it, his heart racing too loud inside his chest due to her comment. And after a few seconds of trying to calm it down, he could finally be back to normal. “Relax, everything is fine, Bubble, you didn’t overstep at any moment.”

She exhaled relieved, but his thumbs kept caressing her shoulders softly, leaving a tingling sensation as they traced her skin. “I planned to let her call cut if that's okay with you?” 

He smiled, nodding, “She would love it.”

Just like she asked him, Bubble offered the task to Briar as she knelt in front of her, always looking at her eye to eye. “Want to call cut when they finish filming the scene?” 

Hayden had the front row to see how his little girl’s eyes shined at the proposition and eagerly she nodded, jumping at the chance. “Of course, yes!”

They all smiled and went to their positions, Ewan and Hayden to their marks while Bubble and Bri were behind the monitors. 

From where he was standing, he caught the second she helped the little girl sit in her chair, the director’s chair, how she sat straight, proud to be there, and Bubble, standing next to her, guiding her gently, their heads close together as they discussed the scene while pointing at the screen.

It took him more than usual to get into character, being unable to stop smiling at the pair of girls, his heart beating out of his chest every time his clear eyes fell on them. Concentrate, Hayden, for fuck’s sake. You are a professional, act like it. She’s your director, nothing more….maybe a dear friend, a very dear one. With a sweet smile and a jasmine scent that you could recognise anywhere, but surely nothing more.

"When I say 'action,' you watch your dad, and when he does that cool move we talked about, you get to yell 'cut!'," Bubble instructed. Briar's role was serious business, and she performed it to perfection, her small voice shouting "Cut!" at the perfect moment confidently, causing the crew to applaud, her father more proudly than anyone there.

In the brief moments between takes, where the crew milled around adjusting equipment and discussing the next scenes, Hayden and Briar found themselves enjoying a moment together, by the monitors, catching up.

Briar was eating her favourite snack, strawberry yoghurt with chocolate cookies, that were suddenly available on set, a thoughtful gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Hayden, as she swung her legs back and forth, her small feet not reaching the ground. Her eyes, wide and observant, had been taking in every detail of the vibrant set, but it was the moments spent with Bubble that seemed to captivate her the most. 

"Dad, she's more beautiful in person!" Briar exclaimed with that child-unfiltered honesty, her voice a whisper of awe and fondness for the woman.

Hayden glanced over to where Bubble was standing with a couple of the crew, discussing the next shot. The afternoon light filtered through the high windows, casting a halo around her, softening her features and highlighting her gentle expressions.

His eagerness from the year prior to wanting to see her shine in her element was nothing compared to the satisfaction of being actually there, being witness to her greatness, personally and professionally.

"Yes, she is..." Hayden replied softly, his voice trailing off as he watched Bubble laugh at something one of the crew members said. How privileged would be the person who gets to hear that sound over and over? COME ON HAYDEN! Where is there professionalism? Long gone now, that's for sure.

Briar giggled, snapping Hayden back from his monologue. "She even showed me how to check the camera angles, and gave me heatseat!" Briar's excitement was palpable, each word punctuated with an enthusiastic bounce. “Did you hear me call cut?”

“I'm glad you're having a good time, sweetie," Hayden responded, his smile tinged with affection. Oh how happy she makes Briar, she’s too sweet for this world.

"She said I was a natural, like you!" Briar continued, unaware of the complex emotions stirring in her father.

Hayden laughed, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind Briar's ear. "Maybe one day you'll be directing films too, huh?"

"Maybe," Briar mused, "but only if I can do it with Bubble. We'd be the best team!"

"Indeed, you would," Hayden agreed, his gaze drifting once again to Bubble. As if sensing his gaze, Bubble looked over, her eyes meeting his across the distance. And, as it had been since day one, a silent communication passed between them, a shared smile that spoke volumes.

The day was finally coming to an end and Hayden was arriving at Bubble's office to pick Bri up and call it a day, he knocked softly before pushing it open. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small lamp on the desk. There, in a scene that melted his heart instantly, was Briar, asleep with her head resting gently in Bubble's lap. Bubble, with one hand resting on a script and the other lightly stroking Briar's hair, looked up and met Hayden’s eyes with a soft smile. Calm down, you stupid heart.

Bubble carefully shifted, easing Briar's head onto a cushion she placed on the chair, and stood to meet Hayden halfway across the room. They moved in a quiet, shared understanding, their steps soft to not wake up the little girl, who was clearly too exhausted from the day’s adventures.

“She crashed just after you left. It's been quite a day.” Bubble whispered, her smile reaching her eyes. 

“Yeah, it has,” Hayden replied, his voice low and warm. “Thank you, for everything today. For making today special, not just for Briar, but for me too.” A soft smile appeared on her lips, paired with red on her cheeks. “It was amazing.” You are amazing. His words lingered in the air, laden with unspoken feelings, hinting at the layers of meaning behind them. “She hasn’t stopped talking about today. You’ve made quite the impression.” He added.

"It's easy to make days special with you two," she replied softly. “I loved every minute of it and I’m glad she did too. She’s wonderful, Hayden.” You're both wonderful. “Just like you.” 

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The air between them was charged with an unspoken understanding, the kind that comes from shared looks and smiles that linger a little too long.

But before anyone took a leap of faith and said what they were feeling, the silence was broken when Bri turned around, mumbling something in her sleep. Hayden nodded towards her, “I should probably get her home. She’ll be wondering where she is when she wakes up.”

She nodded and stepped out of their way, but watched with a smile on her lips how he gently scooped Briar into his arms, careful not to disturb her slumber. 

As Hayden held Briar close, Bubble stepped forward, her presence comforting and familiar, the jasmine scent involving him, and leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on Briar’s crown, a tender gesture that made his heart race again. 

His blue eyes got lost in hers, they were so calm, so peaceful, that it was just what he was looking for amidst the chaos of his mind, of his heart, he wanted to dive in them and never be found.

Then, standing so close to Hayden that he could feel the warmth of her breath, she raised herself slightly on her tiptoes and placed a sweet, chaste kiss on his cheek. “Goodbye, Hayden,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes holding his for a lingering moment.

Kiss me until I know every millimetre of your lips, but let me keep kissing them in case I forget a detail. The simple kiss sent a ripple of warmth through Hayden’s body, the kind of warmth that spreads slowly but reaches deep. The proximity, her scent, and the feel of her lips on his skin, all conspired to heighten the tension between them.

“Goodnight, Bubble,” Hayden managed to say, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. With Briar in his arms, he turned towards the door, carrying more than just his daughter, the idea that he was losing the battle between rationality and emotion.

Bubble watched them leave, her hand touching her lips briefly, the memory of the kiss lingering like a promise, like hope. The office felt suddenly too quiet, too empty, but filled with a hopeful anticipation of what tomorrow might bring.

July 2021, fulfilling dreams.

One of the last fighting scenes was coming up and Hayden wanted it to be perfect, so he trained all the time for them, so much that he lost track of it. Long ago he stopped feeling the ache in his limbs, or any sensation at all, and the world outside the four walls of the immense training room he was in disappeared.

Unknown to him, he was not alone. She was leaning on a wall looking at him, lost in the way he moved swiftly around the room, how his muscles flexed. She was fascinated by him, but not only by what he made her feel, in terms of her silly little -not little at all- crush, but by how dedicated he was to his part, by his work philosophy. 

The horny part of her was thinking how someone wearing a brown henley and black loose pants could look so fucking sexy, but he could pull it. At some point he tilted his head back, the light hitting on his hair, making his skin glow and her eyes travelled across the curve of his jaw, to his neck to the point where it met with his clavicles, which was showing thanks to the two undone buttons, and she pressed her legs together, gulping.

At the worst time possible, in the silence of the room, she sneezed and he turned around confused as hell. “What the-?” But relaxed when he saw it was only her. “Bless you, Bubble.” 

“Thank you,” she had a tight smile on her lips. “Sorry to interrupt you.”

“Not at all,” he cleaned the sweat from his forehead with his shoulder sleeve. “Break from filming?”

She tilted her head to the side, looking at him frowning, “The filming ended hours ago.” At those words, he frowned too. “It’s dark outside, since when are you here?”

He looked surprised. “I don’t know,” She shook her head, walking towards him with a water bottle in her hands, “late afternoon I think.”

“Here,” she passed him the bottle and he smiled at her, putting the lightsaber on her hands. “Well, all those hours worked extremely fine.”

He gulped the water like a dehydrated man. The main thing that was killing her, that was making her so fucking hard to focus, was how his Adam's apple kept bobbling up and down when he swallowed his drink. “You think?” Truth be told, he was insecure about a few things, his performance being one of them.

“Yes” and nodded sure. “From what I see, and from what the stunts and trainers tell me, it’s perfect.” She smiled kindly at him, “You are more than ready.”

“You sure?” What she had to say about his performance, about him, meant a great deal to him. 

Taking a few steps closer to him, she maintained eye contact. “You are going to kill it, Hayden. I say this as the director, I can already picture how perfect the scene is going to be.” Those words meant a lot to him, but on top of that, how soft she reassured him was what put a smile on his lips. “And as a fan, I already have chills just imagining how it’s going to look.” 

He chuckled at that, “Well, I trust you so I’m going to believe you.” She nodded satisfied and he drank again. 

With how close they were, he saw the exhausted look on her face. The mark of her glasses on the bridge of her nose made him want to pass his fingers there, to relax the frown adorning her features. His eyes diverted to her outfit, always loving how she dressed. Tall black sneakers, paired with also black loose leggings and a fitted blue t-shirt, her hair held by a clip in an extremely messy way. Blue eyes traced back to her face, but she was looking at the saber in her hands, a tiny smile on her lips. “What?”

“I’m trying to not let my little me have a mental breakdown,” she said her eyes still not looking at him

The brunette’s lips curved up in a smile. “Why?” 

She shook her head, hiding her eyes from him. “It’s lame.”

“No, it’s not.” He said quickly. “Talk to me, Bubble.”

Slowly, her eyes met with his and he could notice right away the sparkle in them, but when she looked at him from beneath her eyelashes, he was almost knocked out of his feet at how much it affected that simple gesture. His eyes fell at her lips the seconds she wet the lower one and made it prisoner of her teeth, his heart started beating uncontrollably. Too fast, too hard, that he was sure she was able to hear it.

“I’ve always wanted a lightsaber, but I never had one, and you're giving me yours, even if it's just to hold it, it’s-” she laughed, shaking her head “It’s…um… I don’t-” she giggled nervously “I don’t know how to explain it.”

You are so cute it had to be criminal. Hayden was seconds away from dropping to his knees from how cute she was, from how giggly and happy she looked.

An idea popped into his brain, putting the bottle of water away, he smiled brightly at her. “I know you say you don’t train, but I’m going to teach you something.” She looked at him frowning. “Anakin’s signature move.”

Her eyes shone like a little kid, “I'll make an exception," he raised his eyebrows. "Only for you." A big smile appeared on her lips and all her tiredness flew away.

Her jasmine scent surrounded him, welcoming him when he stood behind her. His chest touching her back, the great difference of one head gave him the opportunity to look down on her. It would be easier to show it to her and that each of them had a lightsaber? Probably. What was the fun of that?

Oh God. She took a deep breath, his closeness clouding her thoughts. A mere inch in between their skins. “First,” he said in a low hushed voice, “don’t arch your back” he heard her holding her breath, “legs a little open.” Shivers ran through her back as he whispered in her ear. “Now,” slowly, his hand travelled to her left one, “a basic spin.” She nodded, pressing her lips to not let a giggle escape her mouth because his breath tingled her.

His fingers intertwined with hers on top of the base of the saber, “relax.” His fingers travelled lower, to her wrist, “Don’t be stiff.” Gently, he massaged it a little, loosening it. Gently, he started twirling his own hand, it took them a couple of minutes to find the right rhythm. Because, one, she was left-handed and it came naturally to him with his right hand, but with his left one was another thing, and two, it was really hard to concentrate for either of them being that close to the other.

Yeah, the ache he was feeling before? Disappeared, completely. It was nonexistent the second they invaded the other’s personal space.

To the endless list of things he noticed about her add, confirming his theory, that her skin was soft. And yes, her touch shocked him to his very core. A simple hand touch, simple fingers intertwined, made him weak in the knees. 

Her lips were a little agape, fully concentrated on the task at hand. After a couple of spins, where he gathered she already mastered it, she was ready for the second step. “Second, you are going to tuck it behind your back pointing your knuckles to the ground.”

“Huh?” She moved her head to the side, looking at him with a frown on her brows.

Their lips centimetres from each other, making it extremely hard to concentrate. For both of them. Lord have mercy on me. 

It was like they were in sync, they looked at the other's lips at the same time, not realising what the other was doing. The sudden need to trace the curve of her lips almost overcame him, almost becoming too much for him to breathe properly, to the point his grip on the saber loosened a little but her firm one brought him back to the real world.

“Basic spin,” she led that part, “Point your knuckles to the ground,” his hand guided hers, “and tuck it behind the back.” Delicately, to not injure her, he moved their arms behind their backs. “Got it?” She nodded, liking her lips and that time, he was the one who took a deep breath, earning a little smile from her.

“Now what else?” Master. She asked looking ahead trying to hide her blush, but failing miserably because he could see it. 

His hand found his place on her waist, he felt her take a shaky breath, “Turn slightly to the side,” and moved her. The movement made her shirt lift a little, his cold fingers touching her warm velvet skin and a little laugh escaped her lips. “What?”

She pressed her lips together to not laugh, “I’m ticklish,” but failed miserably. Her head fell on his shoulder, her throat completely exposed and Hayden’s eyes fell there, instinctively licking his lips. Oh, that laugh. 

Even though she wanted to control her laugh, she couldn't and after a few minutes, when he came out of his entrance with her, he laughed too. His chest rumbled against her back. His masculine laugh made her weak on the knees. 

The closeness they were having disappeared, but not because someone took a step away, but because they were glued together, not an inch of space separated them. Who took that step? God knows, but her back was glued to his front, his grip on her hip was gentle but a little possessive. 

Finally, their laughter died down. How can I have so much luck and at the same time none? “Show me again, please?” Her tone quivered a little and the most masculine, soft, giggled left her lips. To my very core, thank you.

What he found on her face instead of a frown, was a smile. Not only that, but her eyes were looking at his mouth too. “Knuckles to the ground, tuck behind the back while moving your hip.”

She nodded and did the move. Still guided by him, with his hand on her hip. Hayden’s breath caught in his throat the second the movement of her hips made her ass graze his crotch, he tried to put his mind black, to think about anything else other than the sweet torture he was enduring, other than the tightness he started feeling in his pants. Every touch, every movement, It's overwhelming.

He couldn't ignore the intense physical sensations that surged through his body. The closeness of her body against his sent a jolt of electricity straight to his core. He felt his breath hitch and his heart rate quicken, unable to deny the undeniable attraction he felt towards her. Hayden desperately tried to push these thoughts aside, to suppress the growing desire that threatened to consume him. Looking up, he invoked all his willpower not to succumb to his desires to make his very vivid sexual dreams come true at that precise moment. But deep down, he knew that his sexual dreams were just that— dreams. He couldn't let them cloud his judgement or jeopardise the trust they had built. Control your impulses, Hayden. Stay in control for the love of God.

Feeling his grip losing a bit, her hand grabbed the forearm of the hand that was on her waist. It seemed involuntary, like she was grounding herself and it made his heart start racing. She was intoxicating for him, her mere presence made all around him disappear.

After who knows how long, because he was trying to make his hard-on disappear, her voice reached his ears. “You okay?” She was looking up at him over her shoulder.

Busted. He nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, I was about to sneeze and I didn’t want to.” She nodded, not too convinced. 

“What now?” The way she was standing, with where their hands were, he was hugging her from behind. His long arms engulfed her small figure. 

The mix of his perfume, mint and cigarette impregnated in her skin, clouding her. All around her was Hayden and that was drowning her but calming her at the same time.

“Back to the starting position.” At that point, he was still behind her, hand in hand, because it was too difficult for him to part ways. He was too selfish to do it. “And do it all over again.”

Confidently, she made the whole move successfully. “Oh God.” She looked at him with her eyes widened. “Oh my God!” One more time, she did it. “I did it!” She turned around towards him, face to face, with a big proud smile on her face.

“You did it, Bubble.” He smiled proudly too. 

Without thinking twice she jumped into his arms, saber forgotten, along with any clear thought. His arms hugged her by the waist and spun around. Their laughter filled the air, her head tilted to the back and the most beautiful smile on her lips while his eyes admired every second of it.

When her feet touched the ground, his arms were still around her waist making him crouch down a little, her hands on her shoulder. They were breathing the same air, their noses were mere centimetres from touching. She was swimming in his blue eyes, he was living in her lips. Gently, his head tilted to the side, still looking at her lips, and her hands travelled to his neck, her thumbs ghosting his Adam’s apple. 

Timidly, they started shorting the distance. Her hands tangled in his hair, and his fingers went under the hem of her t-shirt, touching her skin and making a shiver run down her spine. His eyes caught the moment the tip of her tongue wet her lips and his knees almost gave in. 

With how close they were, their eyes met. How beautiful her eyes shine. Not even the calmest, most clear ocean, could compare to those eyes. Slowly, he nuzzled her nose with the tip of his and she closed her eyes pleased, her lashes caressing her cheeks. Her nails ran down his scalp and it was his turn to smile pleased, his head falling back and the feeling of a single wet kiss under his jaw blurred his brain. 

He called her name like a prayer, in a whisper, as if it was his only angel and he didn’t want anyone to hear him, to steal her from him. She pressed herself tighter against him. Even with layers of clothes in between them, he could feel her nipples against his chest. The breathless way she said his name, the way she purred it, made him die and go to hell and heaven back twice.

Only the finest of papers could be between their lips, that close they were. Hayden felt the curve of her lips on his, slightly, and that was what brought him back to the real world. What the hell were you thinking? Are you that out of your mind? Painfully, dying inside, he pulled himself apart from her. Putting as much distance as he could because he knew that succumbing to his desires at that moment would be inappropriate and could potentially ruin the sweet relationship that they had built.

Confusion adorned her sweet face. “I’m sorry, Bubble.” She tried to take a step closer to him but he took one back. “I-I ca-I can’t.” His eyes watched how pain took over her features and it was like a knife twisted in his heart. For a few seconds, she looked down. “Bubble-”

Looking at him, with watery eyes, “I get it” She took a step back.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “It’s not like that, I-”

“I’ve got to go.” The way he saw his demeanour change, like that day in October back in 2019, when she built walls inside her, killed him. He never wanted her to build those walls for him to not be able to see her true self, hell he never wanted her to feel any kind of pain and certainly not because of him.

“Goodbye.” No Hayden, no Moose. Simply Goodbye. Well done, idiot. Well, fucking done.

He wanted to scream that it wasn’t her the problem, that his insecure self was the problem. That he wanted her, but his feelings were a mess, that he was a mess. That his last real relationship went so bad that he was afraid of fucking things up with her and losing her.

it looked like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, just takes a breath and lets it out before turning back to the road.

when the car pulls into the garage you reach to the back to grab your overnight bag. matt’s already out of the car, coming over to your side to open your door, “c’mon,” he says in that silly high pitched voice, just to hear you giggle.

you make your way to his bedroom, knowing the ins and outs of the triplet’s house like the back of your hand. matt follows behind you, his footsteps echoing amongst the hardwood floors. 

“i can’t wait to lay down,” you sigh, the effects of the sun's heat catching up with you now that you’re in the cool, air conditioned house.

“yeah, i’m feelin’ pretty tired too,” matt agrees, his voice heavy and suddenly cloaked by fatigue.

you’d been out all day, shopping on melrose, walking by the beach. dinner and ice cream and the beating sun soaked up all your energy. nothing sounded better than getting cozy in matt’s bed and watching a movie, maybe catching a bit of a nap before deciding to head home. you knew he’d insist on driving you, and that always hurt more than you’d like to admit.

the two of you weren’t dating, he wasn’t your boyfriend and you told yourself you didn’t mind. it wasn’t a very convincing lie though, most everyone around you could tell. it’s not that you hadn’t talked about it, you had, there were just things getting in the way.

matt was worried about how his fans would react, and he absolutely did not want it to be at your expense. you hated the thought of pushing him, like forcing him or asking too much, being too needy would only drive him away. all your friends had told you to stop, that you were only going to get yourself hurt, but you’d honestly rather have half of him and a broken heart than none of him at all. 

you never doubted that he cares about you, in fact you know he does. he always picks you up from classes, knows your order at all your favourite fast food places and keeps an extra toothbrush in the bathroom for you. it’s things like that that make the title of causal or just seeing each other sting a little bit more.

here though, all settled in matt’s bed, you try not to think about it too hard. there’s some liam neeson movie he insisted on showing you playing on the tv, and you’re happy to be watching it, but mostly happy to be watching it with him. his chest rises and falls under your head with each breath and it’s making you more tired than before.

“i’m so warm,” you say through a yawn, all comfy now in your sweats and matt’s crewneck, although the comfort comes mostly from his arms wrapped around your middle. 

“you can throw on a pair of boxers if you want, top drawer,” matt offers, his arms unmoving, keeping you mildly trapped against him.

“let me goooo,” you groan dramatically, making a big show of sliding out from under his arms and grinning to yourself when he laughs.

“come back,” he pouts, reaching for a stuffed animal to take your place while you cross the room to his dresser.

“just give me a sec,” you giggle, rummaging around in the drawer and pulling out a pair of plaid boxers. there’s something stuck to it, all tangled up in the mess of his clothes, “what the– is this my bra? i’ve been looking for this for like a month.” 

matt lifts his head just enough to see what you’re holding up, huffing when he hits the pillow again, “i dunno, sweetheart, you probably left it, you’ve got a lot of stuff here,” he sounds tired, and the words are pressed against his pillow now that he’s rolled onto his stomach. 

you’ve got lots of stuff here.

it digs into you, how casually he says it, an almost physical ache you feel beyond your ribs, right where your heart is. 

quickly you try to shake it off, shucking off your sweatpants and sliding the boxers up your legs so you can hurry back into bed before allowing yourself to think about what he said too much. 

“c’mere,” there’s a little smile on his face when he says it, arm outstretched for you to crawl under. immediately matt tucks you up against his body impossibly close, his nose stuffed into your hair and breathing you in. it feels nice, right, and you let yourself bask in it, like maybe the state of your relationship (or lack thereof) won’t be in limbo forever. he has to feel it too, the pull.

“i think you should just stay tonight,” he says quietly against your temple, leaving a little kiss there.

“are you sure?”

he nods, “it’s late, ‘m not gonna kick you out,” you can see his smile in the dark, his features lit up delicately by the dim light of the movie, “and i kinda wanna cuddle,” he admits sheepishly, trying to hide his blush when you turn to him.

“awe, matty,” you tease, scooching closer to him, hardly an inch away.

“hey,” he says all high pitched, making you laugh again.

“that voice always gets me,” you tell him, snuggling up under his chin.

“that’s why i do it,” he tells you.

it doesn’t take long for you to slip into an easy sleep with matt holding you, the mindless noise coming from the tv luring you deeper into unconsciousness. he’s being extra gentle, finger tips dragging along your waist under your top. you hardly feel him slide out of bed or tuck you in all snug under the covers.

nick’s in the kitchen when matt emerges from his bedroom for some water,  hunting for something in the pantry. matt rubs his eyes.

“hello?” chris leans forward on the couch, his voice startling matt.

“jesus, what– you’re just both out here at fucking two in the morning?” he grumbles, eyes squinted against the harsh lights.

“we ordered food,” chris stands up, walking into the kitchen.

nick nods, closing the cupboard, glass in hand, “we thought you were at y/n’s or something, i didn’t hear you come in,”

matt grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and a takes a sip before answering, “nah she’s here, she’s asleep,” he says, nodding towards his bedroom.

nick groans, “god, are you guys dating yet,” he asks, head rolling back against his shoulders, exsapertated.

matt’s eyes widen at the sudden outburst of noise, looking back at his door to make sure nick didn’t wake you, “dude, be quiet,” he urges.

you’d felt matt’s absence after a few minutes, the warmth of his body leaving the bed when he did. slowly you sit up, pressing the heel of your palm into your eye and swinging your feet to the floor quietly. you stand behind matt’s closed bedroom door, prepared to silently creep out and go to the bathroom when you catch his voice. 

“and no,we’re just casual,” he continues to answer nick’s question, who glances over and chris. “what— don’t look at him like that,” this earns him another sideye, “i mean it, it’s not serious.”

“matthew” nick starts, “isn’t she asleep in your bed right now?” nick points an accusatory finger in his brother’s direction, emphasizing his words.

it’s matt’s turn to look at chris, who holds his hands up in surrender, “don’t look at me, i’m with nick,” he says, looking away from his brother from where he remains on the couch.

“well she’s not my girlfriend, if that’s where this is going,” matt turns back to the fridge, not really looking for anything, just trying to hide from his brother’s judgmental, but justified, stares. 

it hurts to hear, even if you know it’s the truth.

“and why not, idiot,” nick asks, getting fed up. he can clearly tell how his brother feels and is getting frustrated, mad even, with the idea of him toying with your feelings. 

“i just—i just can’t do it.” that hurts more, a sharp pain you feel in your chest. you swallow dryly, and that hurts too. 

you decide you don’t have to go to the bathroom that badly anymore, and slowly sink back into matt’s bed. you know you and matt aren’t together, that he’s not your boyfriend, but a part of you has always clung to the idea that one day he would be, that he’d finally make the move. you thought he liked you enough to at least try.

tugging the duvet up to your chin you roll over onto your side to face the wall. matt comes back into the bedroom and you can hear nick and chris talking quietly for a second before the door closes again. you’re not too sure, but you think one of them mumbles your name amidst the conversation. matt slides back under the covers with you, coming as close as he can to wrap his arms around you.

it makes your head spin, his words rattling around in your mind, saying he “can’t do it,” but here is, body tucked perfectly against yours, holding you so tight you’d think he never wanted to let go.

—

matt seems notice that you’re a bit quieter than usual the next morning, but you try to hide it under the excuse of not feeling well. he offers to drop you off and you take him up on it, knowing that marinating in the misery you feel won’t solve anything but seems to be the easiest thing to do at the moment.

“text me if you need anything, okay?” his tone is concerned and you can feel him looking at you even though you’re trying to avoid eye contact. you know you’d cave, catching a glimpse of the light blue with all that worry clouding it.

“yeah, i will,” you sigh, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag. 

matt catches you, palm placed delicately along your jaw so you’ll look at him, “hey,” he says all soft, “c’mere,” he guides you forward slightly and you know what’s coming, you know it’s gonna hurt but you do it anyway.

he kisses you gently and you fall into it with ease, reaching out to touch his arm. when he strokes his thumb along your cheekbone you pull away, licking your lips.

“i’ve gotta go,” you whisper, afraid the full volume of your voice would shatter something, you’re not too sure what.

“yeah, okay,” he nods, pulling his hand away from your face and trying to smile as you open your door, watching you walk into your building.

he stays there in the parked car for a minute, wondering what’s wrong, pretending he doesn’t know that this whole situation hurts you just as much as it hurts him. he’s staring up at your apartment window, tapping the steering wheel and taking a long, deep breath.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, pushing his hair back and putting the car in reverse.

—

you and matt don’t talk excessively for the next few days, only a few texts exchanged here and there and one phone call after he knew you’d just written a midterm. 

he called to ask how it went and tell you he was proud of you, and also to invite you out to dinner with his parents on the upcoming weekend. they were flying out to l.a. for a few days and he wanted you to meet them. it felt cruel.

“i dunno matt, i’ve got an assignment due sunday at midnight, i might not be able to make it,” of course you wanted to go, but the tug of self preservation was starting to become more equal to the pull you felt towards him. you were starting to lose sight of what was more important, him or yourself.

for so long it had been him.

“please, sweetheart, i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever,”  matt slumps into his desk chair, spinning back forth.

you cave and somehow your vision clears. it was him again.

“yeah, yeah, okay, i wanna see you too,”

matt smiles on the other end of the phone, “yay,” he says sweetly, making his joy obvious, “i can help you with your assignment if you want, too,” he offers, and you know he’s just trying to get a smile out of you.

you laugh without meaning to, “matt, you know nothing about the course,” 

“i’ll figure it out, anything i can do to make sure i see you,”

you bite your lip, trying to keep a smile at bay, “careful, you’re gonna make me think you like me or something,”

“aw, well i can’t have that now can i?” he teases, and it cuts deeper than he realizes it does.

“no,” you mutter, trying to hold onto the smile on your face even though matt can’t see you, “um, i should probably get going, if i wanna finish my assignment on time,”

“oh, yeah, okay. i could come by a little later with some food?” he poses it as a question, sensing your hesitancy.

“you don’t have to do that,”

“i know, but i want to,” he says it so easily, like there’s no reason in the world he wouldn’t come to your house after eleven pm just to sit on your bedroom floor while you do school work.

“canes?” you finally offer.

“be there in half an hour.” you hear the car keys jingle through the phone, the front door latching shut.

—

the triplet’s parents land on friday afternoon. you haven’t seen matt since wednesday night when he called and brought take out to your place, and you’re starting to feel a little nervous at the thought of seeing his parents.

you’ve spoken to them over facetime once or twice when matt had called them, but this is real, this is serious.

you think you’ve completely driven yourself insane with that, thinking of it as serious. for days there’s been a battle in your head about whether or not this means matt wants to make your relationship offical. it’s become such a problem that you’ve forbidden yourself from thinking about it.

taking a deep breath you refocus on yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair and trying to decide on a lip product for the night when your roomate wanders into your bedroom.

“how are you doing?” she asks, leaning against the door frame. you don’t answer, just look up at her with what must be a miserable expression, because she chuckles sadly at you, “that bad, huh?”

you groan and clench your fists, “i’m just confused!” you exclaim.

“i know, but i think tonight should clear some things up,” she tells you hopefully, and you really want to believe her.

“i hope so,” you sigh, “i just really like him,” you whine, defeated.

your phone dings then, a message from matt of course.

matt sturn

be there in twenty

ive got the kids

you laugh sadly at the text.

“‘s that him?” your roommate asks.

“yeah, him and his brothers are on the way, they’ll be here soon.”

“you’ll do great, don’t sweat it,” she tries to reassure you, giving you an over enthusiastic thumbs up before shutting your door again.

matt, nick and chris have been in the car for about five minutes and already matt’s debating driving into oncoming traffic. him and his brothers have had the same fight at least three times since you stayed over last week, and if he’s honest, he’s getting really sick of it.

“enough of this ‘i can’t do that’ bullshit, matt, she’s coming to dinner with our parents,” nick says pointedly, running out of air at the end of his setence, “you don’t just bring your hook up to that shit, so fucking stop talking to her if it’s that much of an issue,” he continues, leaning froward against matt’s seat, staring holes into the side of his brothers face.

matt is clearly aggravated, gripping the wheel a little too hard, “shut the fuck up, nick— she’s not just a hook up,” 

nick’s eyes get wider at this and he leans over matt’s seat, voice exponentially louder when he says, “you just proved my fucking point!!”

“you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” matt mumbles in a deft tone, staring harshly out onto the road.

chris leans over from the passenger seat, gesturing in matt’s direction, “and you do? you never shut the fuck up about her, and she’s always at the house but you’re too much of a pussy to do anything,” he yells over matt all in one breath, words coming out too fast. 

matt’s mouth is set in a firm line and he’s shaking his head, “you guys don’t get it!” he finally yells back, signaling and switching lanes before he can finish his thought, “i can’t do that to her,” the car’s stopped at a red light now, allowing him to look nick in the eye from the rearview mirror. both him and chris shut up for a second.

“i can’t do that to her,” matt emphasizes again, making his point with his hands, bracketing the last two words, “the internet would chew her up and spit her out. you think i don’t want to make her my girlfriend? do you think i like doing this to her? every fucking day i think about cutting it off because i don’t wanna hurt her, but i’m too fucking selfish to do it.”

“it’s green,” chris mumbles.

“shut the fuck up,” matt says through his teeth as he turns back to face the road, driving through the light.

“so what are you gonna do?” nick asks, softer now, arm hung over the back of matt’s seat.

matt looks up at him in the rearview again, taking a deep, anxiety ridden breath, “i don’t know.”

the three boys are silent for the remainder of the drive to your apartment. matt puts the car in park and mumbles something about being right back before getting out and heading up to your floor, slamming the car door a little bit too hard.

“jesus christ,” chris breathes, feeling the tension finally break.

there’s a knock at the front door, and you take a deep breath before opening it. matt stands with his hair a little bit messy and his cheeks a little bit red, but he softens when he sees you.

“hey,” you say, “let me just grab my bag,”

“wait, y/n,”

“yeah?” you turn back around to look at him. he’s standing in the middle of your kitchen, looking a little bit deflated.

“can i have a hug?”

your heart nearly shatters. is he feeling it too?

“wha– of course baby, of course,” you cross the kitchen over to him and he already has his arms open. immediately he locks his arms around your waist, resting his head against yours. you gently rub his back and rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“is everything okay?” you wonder after a second, feeling him breathe heavily against you.

matt squeezes you a little tighter and kisses your hair, “yeah,” he sighs, “nick and chris are just annoying,”

“you love them though,” you remind him.

he pulls away but keeps you close, hands on your hips now, “sometimes i think about reevaluating that,” 

you laugh at him, fixing his messy hair, “no you don’t,”

its his turn to smile, “you’re right,” he leans in for a quick kiss which you grant him, letting it dampen your nerves and reservations on the evening.

“i know, now c’mon, we’ve gotta go,” you slide your hand down into his.

“you don’t have to be nervous, by the way,” matt says to you in the elevator, still holding your hand. 

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and he squeezes your hand, letting you know he’s there for you, “it just feels serious,” you finally admit what you’ve been thinking for the last few days. you’re a little bit afraid to look over at him, so you keep your gaze towards the closed elevator doors.

matt gives your hand a quick squeeze and glances at the side of your face, you can feel his eyes on you, “it’s not serious, don’t worry,” it’s a little strained when he says it, as if he means something else but you can’t quite decipher it. it’s too much to think about now and yet it’s all you’ve been thinking about for days, how ‘unserious’ it all is to him.

when you do get to dinner, marylou and jimmy are already at the restaurant. marylou is being so sweet to you, asking about classes and how you met the boys, what you like do to in your spare time and things about matt that you tease him over. you feel like a girlfriend, you feel like his girlfriend and you don't think you can take much more of it. she tells you how much he talks about you when he’s home, that even justin has started making fun of him for it.

when you look over at matt he’s blushing but staring directly into his plate, avoiding you.

the smile you plastered onto your face fades and you dig your nails into your plam under the table.

“excuse me, i’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you say to no one in particular, catching nick’s eyes. he seems to notice your pleading gaze, and sends you a text after you’ve left the table

nick stromboli 

you okay?

you lock yourself in the single bathroom and stand staring at your phone screen.

you

this is brutal

your mom is being sooo sweet but matt won’t even look at me

i feel like he's embarrassed

nick stromboli

he's actually the biggest idiot that ever lived

chris is lowk giving him a death stare rn

nick was being serious, chris staring at matt as marylou goes on about how nice you are.

nick elbows matt in the side and he looks over, more than slightly fed up.

“i think you should go check on y/n,” he whispers, making matt perk up a bit in worry.

“why?”

“i don’t think she’s feeling good,”

“oh, i hope she’s okay,” marylou interrupts herself.

“i’ll be right back,” matt stands from the table and walks to the bathroom, knocking on the door gently, “y/n/n? it’s me sweetheart,”

a slight panic drops through you as you push away from where you were leaning against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“c’mon let me in, nick said you weren’t feeling good,” he knows you were nervous about tonight, and he’s hoping that’s all it is, that he can fix it.

you sigh, head tossed back to your shoulders as you breathe out before letting him in, hoping you look more composed than you feel.

“hey, you okay?” he asks gently, closing the door behind him.

“yeah, uh, i think i’m gonna go,” you mumble, looking away.

“what? d–do you want like a gingerale or something?” his brows are pinched and he’s reaching out for you. you step back without thinking about it. you don’t even notice you’d done it until you see the hurt look on his face. he reaches out again, slower this time.

“y/n…”

something in you clicks, or comes crashing down when his fingers brush your wrist, “i’m not your girlfriend matt, stop worrying about me like i am,”

he's a little bit stunned at that and pulls back, saying your name again. 

“no, don’t do that, i heard what you said to the guys last week, and you keep telling me we’re causal and we can’t be anything but we’re at dinner with your fucking parents. i can’t keep prenteding to be your girlfriend, or–or that it doesn’t hurt, i just can’t do it anymore,” 

there’s tears in your eyes you don’t notice until matt whispers, “don’t cry,”

“i’m going crazy,” you tell him, voice so soft, so fragile that his heart breaks a little bit.

“no you’re not, c’mon– we can work this out,” the words are so comforting, and normally he’s the one you’d run to for comfort, but he’s hurting you.

“are we gonna make it official, matt? or are we just gonna keep sleepingover at eachother’s houses four days a week and tell all our friend we aren’t dating?” you ask, pressing your fingertips underneath your eyes, “are we gonna do this for real or are you gonna keep telling your parents about me when you’re in boston, and–and keep coming to my house after midnight with take out just because i don’t wanna be alone working on assignments,” he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a solemn look, so you keep going.

“i can’t take the sorry fucking look chris keeps giving me when i’m walking out of your room, it hurts, matt,”

he steps forward finally, trying to make up for more than the physical space that separates you, “no, c’mon, just–just come back to the table. i’ll stay at yours tonight and we’ll talk about this,”

you hold back a scoff at the irony of him mentioning he’ll stay over, “i need an answer now.” you tell him. he’s gone back to standing a few feet away from you, not touching you anymore.

“an answer for what?”

“can you commit to this now? to me?” you feel like you’re pleading with him and you hate how desperate it is.

“we aren’t having this conversation in the bathroom right now, can we please just talk about it later?” matt asks.

you shake your head, “matt, we’ve been doing this for four months, i don’t wanna wait any longer, i’m not a toy.”

he stares at you, licking his lips. you stare back, suffocating in his silence. it’s all the answer you need.

“i’m gonna go,” you mutter, “tell your parents it was really nice to meet them, and that i’m sorry for leaving,” you add, looking away when you walk passed him to open the door.

you leave the restaurant and call an uber, hardly sparing a glance in the direction of his family’s table on your way out.

“is y/n okay?” jimmy asks when matt comes back alone. 

matt shoves a hand into his hair to push it back, not meeting anybody’s eyes, “she went home, she wasn’t feeling good”

“and you didn’t offer to take her?” marylou scolds, sure she raised her son better than that.

“she didn’t want me to,” matt admits, defeated.

nick and chris share a look, knowing that isn’t the whole truth, or really the truth at all. 

—

a few days later, after their parents had gone back to boston, matt’s shuffling into nick’s bedroom, where him and chris are laying on the bed on their phones. 

matt looks a mess, hair wild and eyes sunken in. he’s been in his bedroom all day, blinds drawn and door latched shut

nick thinks he’s wearing a hoodie of yours, the faded smell of your perfume lingering when his brother walks in. 

“…you okay?” nick asks, glancing up from his phone. 

matt shakes his head and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes with his fists, “i feel like fucking shit,” he admits, still looking down, “i hate that i hurt her,” he tells the two, as if his brothers weren’t already acutely aware, “i was trying so hard to keep from hurting her and i fucking did it anyway,” they wait for matt to finish, knowing he has a little more to say, “i was so fucking scared of making things offical that i lost her all together, she’s never gonna talk to me again,”

nick sighs and looks over at chris, the two of them sharing a sympathetic look before he moves forward and puts his arm around matt, who slumps against his shoulder, “that's not true,” nick says, “she probably should never talk to you again, but she’s a good person, and she’s our friend,”

“yeah, and she cares about you a lot, matt.” chris adds, sitting on the matt’s other side.

matt groans and covers his face, “i know, and that’s what sucks,” he wipes his palms over his face, “god, why was i so fucking stupid?”

“because you really like her,” chris offers, “and you’re gonna try and make it up to her…right?”

matt sits back up, staring at the wall, “i dunno, i want to, i don’t…” he takes a deep breath, willing the pit in his stomach to go away, “i’m more afraid of losing her all together than i was of any of that other shit, but i don’t know how to fix…this,” he says, dejected.

nick perks up, because he’s never seen matt half as lively as he is when he’s with you, or talking about you. he’s pretty sure matt was on his way to falling in love with you (if he hasn’t already) and refuses to let him lose hope,“i have an idea,” he says.

matt looks at his brother, desperate. the circles under his eyes a shade too dark, his cheeks sunken in, his lips chapped. nick continues.

“we’ll need waffles.”

—

it’s been over a week and a half since you walked out of the restaurant, and since you’d spoken to matt. nick’s been messaging you, asking if you’re okay and telling you he’s there for you. there’s been a bit of him telling you how stupid matt is, which you’d agreed with solemnly.

nick’s messaging you now. you’re posted up at your kitchen table trying to review for one of your exams, but more so warding off another wave of tears, pressing your fingertips into your eyes.

you pick up your phone to answer the message nick had sent, something about a sleepover at your place this weekend and a promise of a hannah montana binge, but there’s a knock at your door. you’re confused at first, wondering who’s at your door this late.

“did you order food?” you ask your roommate as you get up, looking in through the crack of her barely opened door. her headphones are on and she's hunched over a textbook with a highlighter, oblivious to any visitors.

your heartbeat speeds up a little bit as you begin to think about who’s on the other side. with a huff you look through the peephole, met with a slightly distorted image of matt anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

he keeps looking down the hallway and biting the inside of his cheek. he’s holding something. a paper bag in one hand and a bouquet of delicately wrapped flowers in the other.

you turn the lock, hand shaking a little bit as the door swings open. he whips his head from where he was looking down the hall to the now open door, your eyes locking immediately.

“matt,” you whisper, not even meaning to say it.

he stares at you for a second, seemingly forgetting any words he would have said for a second before holding up the bag.

“i brought waffles.”

—

“please let me in,” he says breathlessly, as if he was holding his breath waiting for you to open the door. “i know i probably don’t deserve a chance, and you probably don’t wanna hear me out, but…but please,” he licks his lips, grip tightening on the stems of the flowers, (you didn’t think he was listening when you told him your favourites all those months ago) “i miss you,” it’s quiet, the way he says it. he’s pleading with you.

there’s an ache in your chest, you’re trying not to mistake his tenderness for pity. and yet you still find yourself letting him in.

“okay,” it takes so little convincing. you missed him too.

there’s little talking at first, mostly just you and matt grabbing plates down and dishing yourselves out. he went to your favourite diner, because of course he did. the waffles are still warm and are making your kitchen smells like butter and sausage. you move your books and laptop out of the way to make room for the two of you to sit, elbows touching when you start to eat.

you’re half way through your first waffle when matt speaks up. you could feel him staring, his body half turned towards you in his chair. some of your hair falls into your face and his finger twitches before you tuck it away. all he wants to do it touch you. hold you, kiss you, anything. he’s such a jerk. 

“i’m sorry,” 

you freeze for a second, still facing away from him. after you finish chewing you set your fork down and turn slowly, finally looking him in the eyes. the blue has grown a shade too dark, melancholic. 

“for what?” you ask stupidly, just needing to know how he’s felt about it all.

“fuck, everything?” he says, forcefully pushing his hair away from his eyes. 

you shake your head and turn back to your plate.

“y/n,” he sighs, “c’mon look at me,”

you do, but it hurts.

“i’m sorry for what happened at the restaurant, and i’m sorry things got so out of hand and–and that…this went on for so long,” he gestures between the two of you, fixing his wild hair again.

“this?” you ask, voice breaking, thinking the worst, that he regrets it all, that it’s over. it’s really over.

“this stupid fucking dance we’ve been doing for four months, it’s crazy. it was always crazy.”

you huff, probably a little bit too dramatically as you shift to face him fully, “matt, what are you saying?”

“i’m saying that i like you! and it was so stupid to fucking…dilute that becuase i was scared or some shit,” the latter end of his sentence loses volume, he’s getting shy again.

“but–but you just wanted to be casual–” you start, looking down at your crossed legs.

“no, i never wanted to be fucking casual, i was just…. fuck i was just scared.” he says around a mouthful of waffle. the air smells like syrup. 

“i wanna be with you all the time, i like you so much– i just– at first i didn’t want things to be weird between us, which is why i thought a relationship was the wrong idea, but then we started…doing relationship things and it only got better.” he starts, messing with his hair and pushing his food around his plate, “after i stopped being so afraid of that i just, i got scared of another thing,” he finally looks up at you, eyes a little sad, a little heavy.

you can tell that he knows how he’s made you feel, and despite that you hate that he’s sad. you never want him to be sad.

matt continues, “i’d hate for you to get hurt because of my fans, and i knew it was gonna be hard to keep things private, to keep things…ours. i thought that was something i didn't wanna do or i wasn't ready for but…” he sighs, cutting himself off and taking in another big breath. you want to reach out and rub his back, knowing he’s anxious and just trying to calm himself down. 

“you being mad at me i can deal with,” he starts again, “you being mad, or–or upset because of me, is harder to handle, but fuck, not having you at all? that's worse than anything else we’d have to face,” he looks up, dead into your eyes to make sure you understand the weight of what he’s about to say, “together.”

“matt…” you whisper. you’ve forgotten about the food. it’s getting cold but it doesn’t matter.

he shakes his head before meeting your eyes again, “i’d rather go through all that bullshit with you than go through nothing without you,” he sounds so sincere that you think your heart skips a beat.

“what are you—”

“i wanna do this. for real.” he nods once, watching you closely.

“do you mean that?” he hates how doubtful you sound and he hates that he’s the one to have put all that doubt there. he thinks you might cry.

“y–yeah of course i mean it. i should have said it a long time ago, and if it makes you feel any better nick’s been giving me shit for like, two months, and i think chris wanted to beat me up last week.” he offers you half a smile, hoping you’ll give one back.

instead you breathe out laugh. he basks in it.

“i want you to be my girlfriend,” you’re looking down again and your hair falls from it’s place behind your ear. he doesn’t stop himself this time, nimble, ring adorned finger pushing it back, “i wanna be your boyfriend,”

you look up at him, studying his face for a second before you speak. he looks tired and a little worn, like he’s been thinking too much and too hard and worrying even more.

“yeah?” you finally say.

matt smiles at you. he has such a pretty smile.

“yeah.” he nods, smiling now.

“so we’re not just casual?”

matt scoffs out a laugh and stands. you stand too and he wraps his arms around you, tucking his chin atop your head when your arms go over his shoulders. he kisses your hair and breathes you in, the lingering scent of your shampoo and your perfume and you. it’s all over his clothes and his sheets, but nothing beats having you in his arms again. 

“we were never just causal,” he assures you, as if you didn’t know.

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @cherrypostsposts

Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with family and friends. Where they shower someone with gifts cake but mostly love. It’s something Y/N hasn’t felt since she was young. Her mother made sure Y/N was reminded that the sun shined bright for her. She made all her dreams come true until she couldn’t. Y/N lost her mother, Isla, to cancer. She fought a long battle, but it seemed losing her mother meant losing her father as he lost the love of his life. Her older brother, already close to eighteen, understood loss but didn’t realize how grief could change a person because as soon as Caleb turned eighteen, he was gone. Only calling during the holidays but never coming home. 

Y/N saw how others were celebrated on their birthdays as she grew up, from being invited to birthday parties to the grand gifts they would receive, primarily knowing that her friends had someone show up for them. That never happened for Y/N. 

She moved away from home for university, and there was no argument from her father. She began her life where she hoped to create a family of her own, and with time, she had. Y/N never believed in having a large group of friends, but wherever she went, she made a friend along the way. 

Aurora is Y/N’s best friend. She met her at a book club, their local bookstore hosts. Y/N complimented her fiery red hair; Aurora took one hard look at Y/N and claimed they would be best friends. Y/N brushed her off instead asking her out for coffee, and well, it seemed Aurora was right. She always is Y/N had come to learn. 

With Aurora in her life came new friends; she was invited to dinner parties, coffee days, and to join in on mundane errand days. Y/N had never felt so invited and loved by her friends, but she made sure to give it right back. When it was Suki’s birthday, Y/N knew she wanted an ice skating day with all their friends but could never convince everyone to go; well, Y/N turned on the charm, and off they went. At Edward’s graduation party, she brought his favorite cake from the bakery across town. For Tina, she found a vintage sweater she had been searching for since she was seventeen and learned who Vivienne Westwood was. Y/N was the friend who went above and beyond for everyone because she knew they deserved it.

Year after year, they would ask Y/N to celebrate her birthday or accomplishments, but Y/N always promised them she didn’t like celebrating her birthday. After two years, her friends decided not to fight it and respected her wishes. She’d start her day the same way each year: head to Heart Coffee to buy a croissant and an oat milk vanilla latte. She’d head to the park, where she’d sit by the lake, seeing all the people run by. Then she’d cook herself a small meal and stay home to watch her favorite show (Parks and Rec). It’s a simple plan, one she liked and her friends respected. Her friends would get her gifts, sometimes books, kitchen supplies, or even the sweater she had been eyeing and saving up for, but that’s as much as she allowed to be celebrated. 

Then Harry came into her life. 

Aurora was having a bonfire to celebrate the start of Summer. Y/N loved the beach, searching for shells, and mostly, being in the water. Y/N had offered to help set up because she wanted to maximize her time in the water. Her mum always told her she was born a mermaid in another life for how much she loved water. Y/N spent her time in the water, and once she felt the sun begin to set (Aurora yelled for her to come in), she took a final dive and dashed to her car to change into warmer clothes. As she was closing her car’s trunk, Y/N bumped into someone. She quickly apologized, knowing she was in a hurry to return to her friends because she was hungry. 

“My fault,” a strong voice responded. 

It sent chills down her back. She looked up to meet his eyes and found mossy green eyes staring at her. “Sorry,” she apologized again. “I’ve got to go.” Y/N pointed behind her to signify she had people waiting for her, and before he could stop her, she ran off. 

Y/N tried to brush away his pretty face, but her brain seemed frozen. She’d never seen someone so pretty. He had curls peeking out behind his hood, and his long eyelashes were something she’d forever be jealous of while she’d dream of what his pink lips might taste like. Y/N, with a drink in her hand, allowed herself to escape to her thoughts. 

“Babes, you’ve got a pretty tan going,” Aurora commented as Y/N set her bag down.

Y/N felt her face warm, knowing tomorrow she’d be more burnt than she liked, but being in the water was worth it. 

“So the mermaid has legs,” Frannie teases Y/N as she sits in the sand. 

“So it seems. Got any gummy worms?” Y/N plays along, knowing her friend would understand the significance of the candy from one of their favorite movies.   

There was a lot of chatter going around. She patted Frannie’s thigh, telling her she was getting another drink, but before she could do that, Tobias, Aurora’s boyfriend of two years, called for her. 

“Y/NNNNN!” She giggled because it was clear he was a few drinks in. “My sweet baby, I want to introduce you to my friends. We’re in a band.” 

“Were.” A man with an Irish accent answers. 

“Shush, Niall. Y/N loves musicians.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, “only if they play the piano,” she corrects. 

She turned to look at the people Tobias wanted to introduce her to, and she took a deep breath when she recognized the guy with the gray hood, a smirk on his face.

“Right, whatever. My good mates from left to right are Niall, Sarah, Devon, and Harry. Mitch is off getting drinks. He’s the dude with really long hair. You’ll see him,” Tobias assures her. “Now, this is my best mate Y/N.” Y/N giggles. “Don’t tell Aurora, she’ll fight anyone who calls Y/N her, and I quote “bestie.””

Y/N hums in agreement. “It’s lovely to meet you all.” She shakes their hand in greeting. She saved Harry for last. Y/N tries to hide she’s looking at his long fingers, but when she looks at Harry, he’s staring at her with a wide smile. 

“Piano hands.” 

Y/N feels her face flush because he’s referring to the comment she made a few minutes ago. She takes a step back and excuses herself. “Off to get a drink. It was lovely to meet you all.” 

Harry steps forward as if to follow her, but Tobias stops him with a shake of his head. Always protective. She looks over her shoulder and finds Harry already staring at her. She laughs to herself. Maybe she’ll get the courage to talk to him after two more drinks. 

One drink later, Y/N was watching the waves crash in when she heard someone coming closer. She thought it was Aurora who was escaping the loud music for a moment, so she patted the seat next to her, but to her surprise, it was Harry. 

“Hi,” she greeted softly. 

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry smiled at her. “You’re hard to get alone.”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “That’s Mum and Dad for you.” 

“They’re protective of everyone like that?” He asks.

“Yes, but more so me.”

“Is it because you’re too sweet?” Harry asks curiously.

“Or to mean,” she counters. 

Harry laughs, “I doubt that.” 

Y/N turns her body to look at him, squinting her eyes suspiciously. “You don’t know me.” 

He shrugs, “I don’t, but you shook my hand when we met. Don’t think that’s happened in such an informal setting.”

Shit. 

Y/N lets his words sink in. So it was weird to shake hands, but her mum always taught her to be polite, and she'd shake their hand if she couldn’t be a hugger. Were handshakes weird? Did that mean Harry thought she was strange? Well, there goes her chance with him.

“Y/N, Sweets? Where’d you go?” Harry calls for her attention, seeing her lost in her head. “I’m that boring, huh?”

She’s quick to shake her head. “Sorry. That was so rude of me.” 

“Only teasing.” 

“Don’t like the party?” Y/N gestured behind them, knowing that was much better than sitting with her. 

Harry scoots his hand closer to hers, only an inch apart the slightest movement, and they’d be touching. “I meant it when I said you’re hard to get alone. Aurora asked me fifty different questions, and one was about my car insurance.” 

Aurora was odd, but she always had her best interests in mind. 

“Think she’s scared I might get taken away from her.”

“She did say something about 60/40.” 

Y/N lets her head fall into her lap, “that’s embarrassing.” 

“Take it everyone’s sweet on you, Sweets.” 

Y/N feels herself melt at the moniker. Harry is too charming for her, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want a chance.

“Are you?” 

Harry takes it in stride. “Definitely.”

“Hmm…”

Harry takes her silence as rejection. “Take it, it’s not mutual?” 

“I’m afraid you never asked me a question.” She feigns innocence. 

Harry grins, “would you like to go on a date with me?” Y/N stays silent. “How’s that for a question?” 

Y/N stands up, brushes away the sand, and offers her hand to Harry. He takes it, careful to not pull her off balance. “Yes.” 

She walks back to her friends, leaving behind a stunned Harry. 

“Did you say yes?” He yells, hurrying to catch up. 

“I did.” 

“Why?” 

Y/N laughs, confused. “Was I supposed to say no?”

“Tobias assured me you would say no, so I thought no harm in trying.”

Y/N steps close to Harry, removing any space they head between each other. “Listen here, Harry. As much as I love Tobias, he doesn’t speak for me. So, if you ever have a question for me, just ask.”

Harry nods. 

“Good. Now I’d love a s’more, care to join me?” 

Harry, enamored by Y/N, is quick to agree.

He spent the remainder of the night glued to Y/N’s side. He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to know everything about her, from her birthday to her favorite number. She asked him about the pets he had growing up and who his three favorite female artists were. Y/N told Harry his answer could change her response to their upcoming date. Harry named Stevie Nicks, Kacey Musgraves, and Megan Thee Stallion. Y/N told him she approved. He sighed in relief, telling her that his heart was close to beating out of his chest. 

Harry’s friends began to pack up to leave, but he noticed Y/N didn’t, so he stayed put Y/N tucked against his side and said it was time for him to go, sensing all the looking Harry’s friends were directing at him and he was ignoring.  

“Don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ve got my friends, Harry. I was fine before you and will be fine once you leave.” 

Harry frowned, “fine isn’t good enough.” 

“You’re a tough cookie.” 

Harry makes no move to get up.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

He perks up, “I’m listening.”

“You text me when you make it home.” Harry nods eagerly. “I’ll text you when I make it home. If you’re awake, I’ll let you call me to wish me goodnight.” 

“I’ll be awake,” he promises.

Y/N doesn’t know how true that is, but it does get him to finally follow his tired friends to their car. She watches him walk away when Aurora comes up behind, resting her head on Y/N’s shoulder. 

“Tobias bet me $50 bucks he could keep Harry away from you.” 

“What did you do, Rora?” 

“I offered him a blowie if he let you be,” Aurora laughed, “I saw the sparkle in your eye. Don’t love him more than me is all I ask.” 

Y/N giggles, “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good. I told him 60/40, but 70/30 is a better deal for me.”

Y/N felt like throwing up. She changed her outfit three times, restyled her hair twice, and messed up her eyeliner for the first time in months. Her date with Harry was tonight, and while she had a massive crush on him, her nerves were getting the better of her. 

Before she could change her outfit another time, her phone rang, notifying her of a knock on her door. The security camera she had installed was a significant help. She pulled up the app on her phone and saw Harry wearing a black knitted sweater with two swans kissing. A bouquet of flowers in his hand. He kept pacing the front door, and Y/N felt settled, knowing he was nervous, too. 

First dates can be awkward, and small talk is boring, but as soon as she opens the front door, Y/N knows it’s different. Harry shows her a bright smile, telling her how beautiful she looks. Y/N lets Harry open her car door; for dinner, Harry decides to take her to his favorite Italian restaurant. It’s ten minutes from the beach. It’s a family-owned establishment where all the dishes are made from scratch. Harry promised Mama D’s offers a pink sauce that’s to die for. Y/N let Harry order for her, and she was not sorry; the food was delicious. She knew she would return, but that wasn’t the best part. No, it was spending time with Harry. 

She learned how smart he was. He is constantly reading a new book, whether poetry or history books; he always has his hand on something new. Y/N proudly told him she loved her romance books, that she had only recently begun to get into fantasy, but that her favorite series growing up was “The Hunger Games.” She went on a slight tangent explaining what the books meant to her and how, from time to time, she would pick it up to read it all over again. When she realized she had probably said too much, Y/N felt her face burning and wouldn’t dare to meet Harry’s stare.

“Sorry,” she apologized. 

Harry shakes his head, “no, don’t do that.”

“What?” Y/N asks confused. 

“Apologize for what you’re passionate about. It’s a part of you; don’t make it seem insignificant,” his words settled deep in her heart. “I could write you a ten-page essay on why The Notebook is one of the best romance movies to exist.” 

“With citations included?” Y/N teased, easing the tension she was holding. 

“Well, of course,” Harry plays into her banter. 

It’s clear by the end of the date that Y/N is head over heels for Harry, and the feeling is mutual. Harry sat across from Y/N at the start of the meal, but after their dinner and a glass of wine, he slipped into the seat next to her. He played with her fingers that rested on the table, his entire body turned to her, giving her his undivided attention. Y/N and Harry stayed at the restaurant until they closed. Their waiter, Devin, told them he didn’t want to rush them, but they did need to clean up the outside patio. Harry knew it was time to go but didn’t want the night to end. 

“Fancy a walk?” Harry asked Y/N as they stood by the car, pointing toward the beach where she could hear the waves crashing on the shore.

“Lead the way.”

Harry reached for Y/N’s hand, but Y/N was the one to intertwine their fingers, keeping a tight grip on him. Harry gave her a squeeze to assure her he liked it. The moon shone down on them as they walked towards the calm waves. They walked in silence; there was no need to fill the void with talk. Simply being together was enough for them. 

He was aware this was a first date. Yet, Harry knew what he was feeling was something he would never experience again, entirely because of Y/N. 

“Harry?” 

“Yes, Sweets.” 

“Can I confess something to you?” 

Harry stops walking, hearing the tremble in her voice. “Hey, of course you can. Anything you want.” 

“Well,” she takes a deep breath. “When we met, I thought you might be a little cocky because you have this larger-than-life personality, but truthfully, you're the sweetest person I have ever met.” 

Harry feels his cheeks turn red. He did not see this coming. “Sweets, you mean that?” 

“I do. You make me feel safe and cared for. I-I know we don’t know each other too well, but I would like to keep seeing you if you’re interested,” she whispers the final word as if all her confidence was sucked away. 

“Y/N, look at me.” She lifts her gaze to meet his. Y/N can see how bright his eyes are with the moon's light. “I would love to keep going on dates with you. You called me sweet, but Y/N, you’re the kindest, smartest, most beautiful person I have met in all my years of life. I’d love to keep spending time with you even if it was simply to go grocery shopping.” 

“Good,” she whispers. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” 

“Come one, Sweets. The night is still young.” 

Harry and Y/N spent the remainder of the night sitting on the cold sand, telling each other everything they could think of because while neither would say it out loud, they knew they had met their soulmate.

+

Y/N loved playing dress-up. She loved exploring her fashion, knowing she’d get suitable and horrible outfits, but each one would be a story for her to tell. Y/N loved going to flea markets on the weekends and went to her favorite thrift store every time the kind worker shot her a text, there was a large donation that came in. Her mother once took her to an estate sale, and Y/N got to see pieces of someone else’s story. Y/N loved visiting the homes but also because she got to find some of the most insane items. Y/N had found a vintage baby pink Chanel sweater and a never-worn pearl necklace. It was her most precious piece of jewelry. 

When Harry learned that Y/N loved going to vintage and second-hand stores, he planned a date night to take her to all the hidden spots his mother had shown him. It had been a few weeks of dates, Y/N and Harry being exclusive, enjoying their time together. Harry had planned a few dates, but so had Y/N. With final exams looming close, he wanted to make sure that Y/N knew that spending time with her was his priority, so he wanted to take her to one of her favorite activities. 

Harry had specific tastes, loving to wear vintage shirts, sometimes paying too much for one he couldn’t live without. Harry loved being able to share this passion with Y/N but mostly enjoyed spending time with her. He understood they both had schoolwork and needed to make time to study, but Y/N was great at making time to see him, so he decided he could do the same. She stopped by for breakfast after her morning pilates class. Harry would send her flowers to arrive at her office. It was a simple gesture, but Y/N appreciated it each time.

“Did you know Dee can’t stand Prim?” Y/N tells Harry as she looks through the rack of skirts, trying to find a velvet skirt. 

Harry frowned. “Prim the cat?” 

“Mhmm…the very one. Says she’s demonic or something,” Y/N shrugs.

“Prim is the sweetest little baby. Always curl up in your lap for a nap.”

Y/N looks back at him with a big smile, recalling the memory of them over at Sasha’s house for game night. Harry sat to her right as they watched Frannie and Brandon try to beat their score in charades when the small black cat came right over to her with a tiny meow and settled in her lap. Y/N ran her hand through Prim’s black coat, coxing her right to sleep. Harry made sure to capture photos for her. Even made it his new lock screen.

“Yeah, told Dee she probably needs to bring Prim a snack to befriend her.” 

Y/N pulled out a black skirt; she looked it over, trying to decide if she wanted it, when Harry spotted something over her shoulder. It was a maroon velvet skirt with a split on the leg, and he knew it was exactly what she was looking for. 

“How about this?” 

She turned around to see Harry holding up a skirt. It looked in perfect condition, not a tear in sight. “What if it doesn’t fit?” 

“We can always alter it. I’m amazing with a sewing machine,” Harry shares. 

Y/N grabs it from him, adding it to the pile of clothes she’s already holding in one arm. “Fine, I’ve been convinced.” She giggles, knowing she would have taken it no matter what because Harry was the one who found it for her. 

“Did you find that knitted cardigan here?” Y/N asks him, exiting the shop, the bag of clothes in Harry’s hand as he uses his other hand to hold hers. 

“No, my Nan made it.” 

Y/N’s eyes gleam in excitement. “That’s amazing. Did she teach you?” 

Harry laughs. “No, I'm really bad with needles. Nan says I’ve got too big of hands.” 

Y/N lifts their intertwined hands, looking down at his black nail polish contrasting her red. “I think you’ve got perfect hands.” 

Harry kisses her temple. “Thank you, sweets. Are you up for a coffee?”

“And a croissant?” She asks excitedly. 

“Well, of course. Only the best for you.” Harry pulls her close and leads them to a coffee shop up the street. 

Harry knows he’s never been happier. He’s glad to have Y/N in his life.

+

Y/N had spent the summer falling in love. Harry had been the perfect gentleman. She had never met someone as kind as him, and when he asked her to be his girlfriend, there was only one clear answer. 

Yes.

She held back from screaming it. Her excitement was hard to hide, but thankfully, so was Harry’s. They spent that night back at Y/N’s apartment kissing. Harry had the sweetest lips, and Y/N always wanted more after one taste. He brought warmth into her life, which she would always be thankful for. 

Now, in Autumn, she spent her time with her studying, going on dates, and sharing lots of kisses. Y/N got to meet Harry’s family: his mother, who has a big love for cats; his older sister, who’s a lawyer and the best baker to ever exist; and his step-father, who is heaven-sent. Y/N shared she was nervous to meet them all because of how much Harry talked about them, but he assured her they’d love her. 

They settled on brunch together, which went as well as Harry expected. Y/N shared what she was studying, where she was from, and how sweet Harry was raised. His mother, Elise, was over the moon with her kind words. When Y/N excused herself to the restroom, his mum could not stop gushing about how perfect Y/N was for him. His sister, Aaliyah, was more challenging to win over. She seemed to think she could read everyone perfectly. It was her job as a lawyer, but sometimes Harry wanted her to simply be his sister. Y/N spent the breakfast sharing stories asking about Harry growing up. His stepfather shared his favorite memories of Harry growing up. How Aaliyah tried to always sell Harry away or ship him off in a box. It never worked, but she tried so hard.

It took a slight turn when the conversation shifted to Y/N’s family. “Has Harry met your family?” Aaliyah asked. 

Y/N felt her hands begin to sweat, and as if he could sense her nerves, Harry reached down and intertwined her hand with his, letting them rest on her lap. 

“No, uh, he hasn’t.” 

Aaliyah frowned, “Now that doesn’t seem right. Are you ashamed of him?” 

Y/N jumps back as if she had just been slapped. She knew his sister cared for him, but being accused of being ashamed of Harry was not something she ever wanted to happen. Y/N took a deep breath and decided to share the deepest parts of herself with Harry’s family, something she did not like to talk about and only mentioned to Harry, never giving him the whole story. 

“My mum Isla passed away when I was ten. She was my hero and my biggest supporter. It’s not something you ever really heal from; grief lessens, but you’ll always miss them.” Y/N wanted to look away. The look of pity on their face was not something she wanted. “My—my dad loved my mum. He always said she was his other half, and well…when he lost her, it’s like we lost him too. My older brother is eight years older than me. So when my mum passed away, he was getting ready to leave for university. Once he left, he never came back. He calls on the occasional holiday but loves life in America.” Y/N is surprised she’s not crying yet but pushes on. “It’s hard living in a house when you’re the one who essentially raised yourself. Dad worked, came home and mourned, then went back to work. An endless cycle. I had family members try to help him, but they knew it would be better if I left.” Y/N could feel her hands shaking and her knee continuously bouncing, but she did it; she made it through her story. “Sorry if that was an overshare.” Y/N excuses herself, needing a minute. 

She walks out front, and that’s when her tears fall. 

“For fucks sake,” she groans, knowing tear stains are hard to hide. 

“Y/N,” Harry calls for her softly. “Are you okay?” 

Harry. Her sweet angel. Y/N’s sure her mum put him on her path because her love for him is something she’s never felt before, but it makes her feel whole. Y/N lets herself collapse in his arms, no longer caring about her tears. 

“I’m sorry,” she mutters. “They must think I’m a mess.” 

“Hey,” he says softly. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.” 

“It’s true,” she defends. 

Harry lifts her head to have him look at her. “You don’t have to be perfect or have to have your life together. You just need to remember you’re not alone. You’ve got so many people that l–adore you.” 

Y/N takes a moment to let it all sink in. Harry’s right. She’s simply overwhelmed and thankful to have him here. 

“Is your family upset with me?”

“Not at all, baby,” he assures her. “I think Mum was reprimanding Aaliyah, actually.”

Y/N laughs at his excitement, “let's go back.” 

“Are you sure?” He checks one final time.

“Mhm. Do you think your mum will share photos of you?” 

“Only one way to find out,” Y/N let him lead the way as she felt her heart calm down, knowing she was in safe hands.

+

Y/N could not be prouder of Harry. He had passed all his exams with flying colors (Y/N did, too), all while getting promoted at work. It was a campus job that paid decently. He did it for the scholarship offered but had come to love his role in helping other students. Y/N had done well, too, but that didn’t matter to her, not when she wanted to celebrate Harry. She planned a special night out for him with all of their friends. Harry loved a good party, and she wanted to give him precisely that. She had told him to prepare for the night, claiming it was a surprise. 

Harry didn’t think much, knowing her surprise ranged from a bouquet of flowers to getting dessert and the occasional new clothing she found for him. He didn't know what to expect tonight because when she showed up at his apartment in a little black dress, he was close to pulling her into his apartment and not letting her go. As good as that dress looked on Y/N, he knew it would look better on his bedroom floor. Harry noticed Y/N’s excitement and knew he couldn’t keep her locked up, but it did not stop him from pushing her up against the wall and happily messing up her lipstick. 

Once he noticed it was getting hard to control himself when he pulled away. “Look beautiful, sweets.” 

Y/N giggled, pressing a kiss to his stained lips. “Thank you.”

“Should we head out?” Harry asked, grabbing his coat and helping Y/N slip hers on. 

“Mhm…”

The car ride was short, driving close to the university. He noticed they were outside the bar they come to for karaoke some nights. He loves belting out an Adele song from time to time. Y/N hurried out the door, her excitement unable to be contained. Y/N waited at the door for him, her hand outstretched for him to take. He kissed her wrist and gestured for her to go on. 

Walking in, everything looked normal. People were sitting around at the tables, not a seat in sight at the bar. Y/N offered Grady, their favorite bartender, a wave. The crowd parted for Y/N as if she were an angel walking by. He was always mesmerized by how her presence caught the attention of everyone around her. 

Y/N led them to the back room, which was reserved for large parties. Harry was confused; she had said the surprise was for him, but it didn’t make sense when there was nothing to celebrate. His birthday wasn’t until February, and she knew that. Made a clear point to add it to her calendar as Harry Styles’ Birthday with a yellow heart next to it. A simple gesture that made his heart skip a beat. When they entered the room, Harry noticed all their friends gathered around. Mitch was laughing with Niall while Sarah approached them with three drinks in hand. She quickly passed Harry a vodka cranberry while Y/N got Sprite. 

“Your girl sure knows how to throw a party,” Sarah raises her glass in a cheer. 

“I-I.” Harry has no words. 

Sarah laughs. “Did you really not know? I thought she would have told you. Y/N was so excited she thought she might burst,” she teased. 

Y/N smiles, leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s for everyone,” Y/N reminds her. 

Sarah clicks her tongue. “You said, and I quote, ‘Harry aced every exam. He had the highest grade in each class. It deserves to be celebrated.’ Or am I wrong?” 

Y/N feels her face heat up because Sarah’s words are true. She said it because it was true. He deserves all his accomplishments to be celebrated, from acing an exam to turning in an exam. Uni isn’t always fun; if she can make good days for him, she feels like she did something good for someone she loves. 

Harry excuses them, pulling them to the corner of the room. A few people try to get his attention, but he’s on a mission to get his girl alone. Harry corners her, his emerald eyes locked with her soft eyes. “You’re an angel,” he whispers. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

Y/N has no answer because she feels the same way. “I feel the same way.” 

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” he gestures around them. 

She nods, “I wanted to. You deserve to be celebrated.” 

Harry can no longer hold back. He connects his lips with hers. His hands settle on her waist while Y/N fists the front of his shirt. The passion was burning him; he craved the feeling. Y/N was lost in the feeling that she had forgotten they were in a room with their friends. She jumps back when she hears a loud holler and a yell of Harry’s name. Y/N lets her head fall on his chest, her cheeks burning while Harry tries to coax her to look at him. 

“Y/N, love. You’re amazing.” 

A large smile splits on her face; before Harry can kiss it away, Y/N holds his hand and pulls him to the dance floor, their drinks long forgotten.

“Let’s celebrate, baby!” Y/N shouts, laughing as Harry twirls her into him. Her laugh rings loud, and Harry knows she’s the best thing to ever happen to him. As Y/N dances in front of him, one thought rings loud in his head. 

He is completely and utterly in love with Y/N. 

+

Y/N didn’t enjoy her birthday, but it didn’t mean she didn’t celebrate her friend's special day. Frannie loved spending time with her friends, so with the help from Aurora, they planned a dinner party at Aurora’s shared apartment. They set up two long folding tables with chairs and pushed the couches back for extra space. Y/N decorated the apartment with streamers, balloons, and banners with the help of Harry, who got on the ladder for her when she couldn’t reach something. 

The dinner was set for 5pm. Thankfully, Frannie’s birthday landed on a Saturday, so everyone will be free from uni for the week. Y/N had place cards made for everyone. Harry even had a little heart next to his name. He would be sitting right next to Y/N, with Mitch to his left. They were his two favorite people because while he was good at having Y/N’s attention, it seemed when she was in a large group of people, she always became the life of the party.  

At 4:30, everyone began to arrive one by one. Aurora was set to get there at 5 with Frannie. They had told Frannie it would only be dinner with the three of them, but she was in for a big surprise. The door opened at 5:01, and everyone screamed, “Surprise!” 

Frannie dropped the flowers she was holding in shock. 

“You did this!” Frannie pointed at Y/N, who was leaning against Harry’s chest. 

Y/N brushes her off, “it was all of us.”

Harry knew she didn’t like all the attention, yet Y/N always went out of her way to show everyone how much she loved and appreciated them. It made him wonder how her friends would celebrate Y/N this year. He knows he tried but sometimes never can’t measure up. He loves buying her flowers, always treats her to coffee, and gives her kisses tenfold because he knows it makes her smile. 

He sees Frannie, gives her a tight hug, then settles down at the head of the table. Harry likes how easy conversation falls around him. He talks about a new album that recently came out with Mitch. Y/N jumps in, saying the closing song is her favorite. Sarah shared how the campus job is giving her 40 percent off on all merchandise, so send her a list of what they want. 

Y/N rests her hand on Harry’s thigh as she slips into conversation with Aurora and Brandon, talking about the lab Aurora did earlier in the week. Y/N jumps in every few minutes to show she’s listening. Harry selfishly wants to pull her away, wanting her attention back on him. 

Harry traces random shapes on her hand, letting Mitch talk his ear off as he picks at Y/N’s chipped nails. He makes a mental note of painting them for her tomorrow. 

“I love you, Harry,” she whispers in his ear. A soft kiss is placed on his cheek as she goes to pull away. Harry reaches out and sets her in his lap, not caring that all their friends are watching.

“Say it again,” he begs in a husky voice.

“You've heard me say it before,” she giggled, thinking about their midnight walk when Harry confessed under the stars how he had fallen in love with her. Y/N kissed him, not needing him to beg her to say she loved him. She’d say it over and over again for as long as he asked. “I love you” had become his favorite phrase. 

Y/N sits in his lap for a while; Harry knows she’s tired and close to falling asleep as he feels her settle deeper in his lap. She jolts up when Aurora asks for help with the main dish. Y/N kisses his lips, promising to be back quickly. Being at the apartment all day getting everything ready took a toll on her, and he knew that after eating, she would want to sleep for a long time, but Y/N would not leave because she would see it as rude. Harry composes an idea as dinner continues. 

The meal is enjoyed, and he has the perfect idea when dessert is passed around. He feigns a yawn, making sure Y/N is watching him. He apologizes, giving her a brief kiss. 

“Do you wanna go, H?” Y/N asks. “I know we’ve been here all day.” 

He shakes his head, “no, you can stay.” 

Y/N frowns, not liking that option at all. Harry has been staying over lately, and she’s gotten used to him in her bed. She debates on what to do because she knows cleaning up will be a bitch and would hate to leave it all to Aurora. Sarah notices her mood change and asks her what’s wrong.

“You alright?” 

“Ready to call it a night, but worried about the mess,” Y/N looks around mentally, trying to see what she can throw out and save. 

Sarah waves her off, “go home, babes.” 

“But–”

“Nope. We’ve got this. You set up, we take down,” Sarah tells her like it’s obvious. 

Y/N reaches forward, tugging her friend in for a hug. “You’re the best.” 

Y/N begins to make her rounds, bidding goodnight, sharing her fair of I love you before landing at Harry’s side, her hand in his. Harry quietly thanks Sarah and walks out with his tired girlfriend. She sinks against him as they walk down the steps leading them to the street where they parked 

“Remind me to never set up a party,” she groans as she throws herself into the passenger seat. Harry bites back a laugh instead, leans in, and helps Y/N buckle up. She gives him a tired grin. “You’re the best.” 

“Do you want me to set up a bath for when I get you home?” 

Y/N perks up. “Does that mean we’re going to yours?” 

Harry has the bigger bathtub, so he knows what she’s asking. If he’ll be joining her. “Text Mitch to stay with Sarah.” 

“Oh, are we using the citrus one?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

Y/N sighs against her seat. “Oh, how I love you, Harry.” 

Harry’s heart fills with warmth. This love is everything he’s ever wanted in life.

+

Y/N loved her friends. She loved seeing them smile, helping them out, and, most of all, celebrating them. All her friends took care of her, but Y/N always seemed to go above and beyond for each of them. It was something her Mumma taught her. “Give graciously because it will come back to you.” She likes to think it’s come back in ways she never imagined. 

Brandon had always been an excellent friend to Y/N. He had her back when she failed her first exam. He held her hand when she got lost at the pumpkin patch the year prior. Y/N was thankful for everything he did, from helping her set up her first tattoo appointment to taking her to the mechanic and ensuring she wasn’t being ripped off. He was a good friend, and she wanted to celebrate this new opportunity that had opened up for him. He had started a new job in IT a few months back, and Y/N knew how much he enjoyed it. It was better than biology, but soon, his job offered him pay for his education under a different major: IT Security Protection. It was the easiest, yes, but the only problem was that he’d have to go to a college in the States. This was a celebration and an early goodbye because he wasn’t set to leave until the New Year. 

This time, the event was at a club. Everyone was ready to let loose after a hard week, and the celebration was a perfect opportunity. Harry promised Y/N he’d watch after them, only limiting himself to two drinks and ordering them an Uber home when it was time to go. Except for the fact that Y/N was making sure her friends were enjoying themselves. It seemed Samantha got into some drama with Frannie, and they’ve been butting heads. Harry knows Y/N is a great mediator, but he wants Y/N to be able to go out without worrying about fixing problems. His girlfriend is heaven-sent, but he wants her friends to be there for her like she is for them. 

Harry hoped they would prove it on the most important day for Y/N. 

+

Harry takes note of all the grand gifts and events Y/N goes on to plan for her friends. It’s something he knows Y/N loves doing, but what does she get in return? Harry knows her birthday is soon and wonders what her friends have planned. 

A few friends gathered to go out for drinks. Harry had not left his seat beside Y/N except to buy their drinks. Y/N leans in, kissing the corner of his mouth, promising she’d be gone a second, needing to use the restroom. Harry made sure she made it safely before getting everyone’s attention. 

“What are you planning for Y/N’s birthday in a few weeks?” Harry asks, popping Y/N’s cherry from her Shirley Temple in his mouth. Y/N stated she hated them but always ordered extra because she knew Harry would eat them.

Aurora frowned, “What do you mean?” 

“Her birthday. December 3rd. How do you want to celebrate? Was thinking of renting out the backroom of her favorite restaurant, inviting some friends, drinks all night, and cake. You know we’ve got to take care of her sweet tooth.” 

“She doesn’t celebrate her birthday,” Frannie tells him. 

Harry frowns; that doesn’t make sense. Y/N had told him all about how she celebrated with her mum when she was growing up. How her Mum would wake her up to breakfast in bed and slip in next to her, telling Y/N her favorite memories from when Y/N was an infant to her current age. It filled him with so much happiness that she got to experience it. That she had that much love in her life, and while he knows she has lost it in some way, it will always be with her. Frannie’s words ring over and over in his head.

 Y/N never mentioned not being a fan of her birthday. 

“What ya mean?” Harry needs a clear answer. 

“She refuses to celebrate her birthday with us. It’s been like this since I met her, Harry,” Aurora tells him, but he’s not so convinced. 

“Have you asked her? She’s got fond memories of her birthday, and if we let her stop celebrating, this day will mean nothing to her. Y/N makes all of you feel special every chance she gets, from celebrating graduations to the newest tattoos. You mean the world to her, but what does she mean to you?” 

Harry is getting heated, so he excuses himself. He was going to find Y/N and hoped to convince her to let him take her home. He’s too frustrated to keep sitting at a table of their friends who refuse to do something kind for Y/N simply because she said she didn’t want to celebrate once a few years ago.

“H, honey? You okay?” Y/N asks, concerned when she finds him leaning against the wall beside the restroom.

“Got a headache, Sweets. Wanted to see if you wanted to stay, and I’ll suck it up to keep you company.”

Y/N is quick to disagree. “No, no. We’ll go back to yours. Let me take care of you.” 

Harry loves his girl. She deserves the universe; if he can try to give it to her each day, he knows she will always feel loved. 

+

Harry woke up bright early, under purple covers. Y/N curled up into his chest, almost her entire face hiding under the covers. He hated moving, knowing she might wake up with any wrong move, but he managed to settle her and went outside. He did his morning routine quickly, then headed to the kitchen, where he made sure he had everything for French toast, her absolute favorite meal last night. 

While cooking the French toast, he ordered her iced vanilla oat milk latte to be delivered. He hated delivery fees, but today was a special occasion, and he would do anything to make her day memorable. 

As he placed the French toast on a plate, Harry noticed the front door camera and hurried over before the person could knock. Harry received the drinks with a giant smile, giving the guy a ten-dollar bill in thanks. He found the tray Y/N told him she likes to use under the sink. He put the French toast and a cup of water on the tray. Grabbing the flowers, he rushed out to get up the street from Lady Silvie and her coffee. 

He saw her beginning to stir, her hands moving around as if searching for him. His heart tightened in his chest at how much he loved her. Softly, he began to sing “Happy Birthday.” Y/N, in confusion, froze before shooting upright. Harry walked closer to the edge of the bed until he knelt on the corner, placing the tray over her lap. 

Y/N’s eyes were filled with tears at the sweet gesture her boyfriend did for her. She mentioned her birthday in passing, hoping he wouldn’t remember, but her dear Harry remembers everything she has ever told him. She had told him stories of how she celebrated with her mum growing up, the only person Y/N has confided in since moving here. Not that she didn’t trust her other friends but because he was patient with her and broke down every single wall she had. Y/N had never felt she could truly be herself with anyone, and thenHarry came into her life. He helped her begin to love every part of herself. 

“Happy Birthday, Sweet Y/N!” 

Her tears break free. 

She can’t even get a word out because her tears keep coming. Every birthday after her mum passed, she dreaded waking up. Most of the time, she slept the day away or treated it as any other day, but today, she woke up with a full heart as she woke up to her boyfriend singing. It’s something Y/N will always hold close to her heart. 

Harry is her best friend, the other person who knows her inside out. With a single look he knows what she’s saying. 

He crawled onto the bed, carefully moving the tray to avoid spilling anything, and pulled Y/N into his lap. It’s one of his favorite positions to be in.  

“Happy tears?” 

Y/N nods. 

“I have a nice day planned for us. Are you up for it?” He asks softly, his hand rubbing circles in her back. 

“You do?” She asks, surprised. 

Harry chuckles, “of course, it’s my favorite person’s birthday.” 

Y/N’s smile is bright. She lets Harry wipe away her tears and then gives him a chaste kiss. “I’m very lucky to have you in my life.” 

They eat breakfast with Y/N in Harry’s lap as she feeds him bites of her fruit. It was very domestic and everything he looks forward to with his future with Y/N. Harry cleans breakfast, asking Y/N to meet him in the living room. She comes out, hair brushed and wearing his hoodie. He has a few gifts sitting on her coffee table. 

Y/N jumps on the couch as she waits for Harry to give her the go-ahead with the presents. She opened her gifts and found items ranging from silk scrunchies to glitter bath bombs. Y/N thanks Harry with a kiss after each present. Harry hands her an envelope, promising it’s the last one. Y/N looks at him suspiciously but opens it slowly. It’s a piece of paper, and she can’t believe her eyes when she unfolds it. 

She reads it again and again.

“Is this real?” Y/N inquires. 

Harry laughs, “very much so.” 

“You got us tickets to SZA,” she says slowly, as if she’s waiting for Harry to tell her it’s not real. 

“It’s our favorite album. I-I thought it would be special. Something to look forward to,” he promised. 

“I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry spends the rest of the morning showing Y/N how much he loves her.

After spending a lovely morning in bed, Harry convinced Y/N to get ready and took her to her favorite bookstore, where he helped her pick a few books from her “tbr,” of course paying for her.  They took a stroll by the lake before deciding it was too cold. Then Y/N decided it was time for an early lunch, and they ate tacos from Y/N’s favorite restaurant. 

It was a perfect day. 

One that helps one final surprise for her. 

+

Harry had requested that she put on her favorite dress and get ready. There was somewhere he wanted to take her.

Outside the restaurant, Y/N asked Harry what they were doing as she saw a full parking lot and a familiar car, but her gaze didn’t linger long as Harry captured her attention.

“Do you trust me?” Harry asked.

“With all my heart,” she answered without hesitation. 

“Then follow me. No questions.” She took his outstretched hand and let him lead the way. Harry told the Hostess the name of his reservation and was told to go down the hall to the right. 

Harry felt his heart pounding as they neared the door that would lead them to all of Y/N’s friends, who were ready to surprise her with a party. Something in him stopped a few steps away. Y/N frowned because something was wrong. Harry seemed like he was going to throw up. 

“H, what’s wrong?” 

Harry lets go of her hand and brings them to rest on her cheek, needing her sweet eyes on him. “I-I-I love you, Sweets. I love you so much. Behind that door are all your friends, ready to celebrate your birthday with you. Selfishly, I want to steal you away, but they’re excited to spend this day with you. If it’s too much and I crossed a line,” his voice cracked. “I apologize. So if you don’t want that, we can go right now.”

“You planned this,” she whispered. 

Harry sighs, “yes, they told me not to, but you shower everyone with your love, and you deserve the same, if not more.” 

Y/N feels her throat close up and knows she’s going to cry as soon as Harry leads them to the party. 

She steps closer to him, with no space between them. Harry looks at her with so much love she knows he’s honestly her other half.  Y/N pulls him down by the collar of his shirt and kisses him with everything she has. Y/N spills everything in the kiss. All her love wrapped in a kiss for Harry. He gives her back the same energy; both lost in the taste of each other don’t pull apart until they’re fighting for a breath. Y/N laughs against his mouth. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

Harry kisses her again. “I love you, Sweets.” 

“Let’s go in.” 

He leads the way, knocking on the door three times, telling her that was the code for her arrival. Harry lets her in, and that’s when her friend's screams ring in her ears. Everyone Y/N considers a friend is here. The room has balloons and streamers around. There’s a cake that looks so yummy and a table full of presents all for her. Her friends stare at her with smiles. Y/N is so overwhelmed she doesn’t even know who to approach first. Aurora chooses for her, pulling her in for a tight hug. 

”Happy Birthday, bestie!” Y/N laughs as Rora twirls her around. Rora pulls her back in, wiping away a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

Y/N shakes her head, “no, no.” 

Rora brushes her off. “You’ve been there for me since I met you. I’m sorry I didn’t always do the same.” 

Y/N appreciates her friend’s apology, but she was partly to blame. She never fully let anyone in, afraid they’d leave her just like everyone else, but Harry showed her that wasn’t the way to live.

“You’ve got a good one,” Aurora told Y/N, pointing at Harry, who was talking with Mitch and Brandon. As if he could feel his eyes on her, he turned around, sending her a dimpled smile. 

“You okay?” He mouthed.

“Perfect.” She replied. She blew him a kiss and continued around the room, talking to her friends.

As the night continued, Harry ensured Y/N always had a drink in hand, whether a vodka cranberry, or water. He ate dinner with her and helped her cut the cake when she asked for his help. All the cameras were on her, and she had gotten overwhelmed. Harry slipped his hand on top of hers, and together, they cut Y/N’s slice of cake. 

No one had left yet, but Y/N needed a breather, so she stepped onto the patio overlooking a beautiful lit-up forest. Y/N heard silent footsteps behind her. She turned around to find Harry with his coat in his hands. 

“Don’t want you to get sick, my love.”

Y/N smiles, stepping close to him and letting him help her put it on. She was staring at Harry with so much adoration. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have him in her life. Y/N leaned in close. The music flowing out of the room had her wrapping her arms around his waist. His hands settled on her waist as he held her tight, that familiar feeling that if he didn’t hold tight enough, she might disappear. 

Harry leaned his forehead against hers, letting each other fall in love all over again.

“This was the best birthday,” she whispered as they swayed to the music in the distance. 

Harry lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair back. “Just wait until next year,” he promised.

Y/N looked forward to it. 

+

send me a message!!!! I want to hear all your thoughts

“I’m alright,” he eyes your cup of tea, “I could do with a cuppa though.” you nod and set the kettle on.

“One sugar or two?” He holds up a single finger before opening the cupboards. He hisses and you suppose that’s better than the laugh that bursts from your brother.

“S’not that bad,” you can tell he’s being extra nice when he sees the embarrassed look on your face, “I’ll have to change all the pipes though. Whoever installed these ones used really thin PVC so under the heat it crumpled.” James stands and accepts the tea from the dainty mug without a complaint.

“Will it be super expensive?” you ask, and your brother flicks your forehead. “What? You know I can’t afford many more swings right now.” You only feel a twinge of embarrassed heat licking at your neck as you look between James and Michael.

“You’re such an idiot, I’ll go half with you.” He says and you nod, giving him your best smile but your brother draws the line when you try to hug him.

“It won’t be, but I can’t do it today. The better pipes have to be ordered in, but they only take like a day to get here.” James explains and you nod.

“That’s fine, I’ve got most of my stuff already cooked so there won’t be much dishwashing.” James finishes the tea and pulls out a pen and paper from his bag. “Here’s my number, you can text me in like two days about it if I don’t call Michael first.”

You nod again, thanking him as he gathers all his stuff and moves for the door. Your brother waves him away and then turns to you, frowning.

“You still sleeping on the sofa?” It’s then that you realise you hadn’t put your blanket or your pillow away and scowl.

“I can’t sleep in the bed, my mind just runs wild.” you say as you finish your tea and cake. “I’ve been trying though.”

The door shuts and you realise James has probably heard what you’ve said. Your mouth can’t seem to not run away from you when he’s around.

You brush the slight shame away with the semi-reassuring thought that ‘at least he doesn’t know why a grown woman can’t sleep in her own bed,’ it doesn’t last long, but it mellows the initial sting.

Michael ruffles your hair and you shrug, “It’ll just take some time,” he says softly, “Want me to get a security system?” You shake your head at that.

“You’re already going half and half with me on this, and you paid for my groceries for like three weeks. I’ll be okay.”

Your brother doesn’t look convinced, but he can’t argue with you because his phone rings.

“Work, I gotta go, but think about it okay? Shanice won’t mind either,” you nod but you both know you won’t be thinking about anything.

“Have a good day at work, I’ll bake those buns the second the sink’s all good.”

-

You’re coming back from work the next day when your phone rings, an unknown number. You frown and then realise it might be James.

“Hello?”

“Hi, angel. This is James,” he says, like you’ve forgotten his name over the last twenty four hours.

“Hi James, is everything okay?” you ask, shoving a couple folders into your bag from the passenger seat of your car.

“Yeah, was calling about the pipes. I’ve just picked them up and I’m near-by. Would you mind at all if I came to install them today?”

You stick the key in the ignition, “I wouldn’t mind, but I’m about twenty minutes from my house, would you wait?”

You really hope he can, you want this problem resolved as soon as possible.

“I can, angel. Don’t sweat it,” he says before he hangs up. You do a happy shimmy in your seat before pulling out of the school’s parking lot.

Next, you call Michael.

“James is coming over to fix the pipes today, just in case you know, I go missing or something.”

Your brother laughs, “He’s a sweetheart. Maybe stop listening to your crime podcasts, you’re getting even more morbid.”

“Oh whatever, I’ll stop by tomorrow with the buns.”

“Make sure you get some sleep,”

“Yeah yeah, I’m going now.”

James is in his car when you pull up, a bronco that looks very well kept. “Sorry for the wait,” you say as you unlock your door.

“S’fine, had enough time to have a late lunch.”

You check your watch, “It’s almost four James, that’s more like an early dinner.”

The man lifts his shoulder and drops it with a smile, “It’s been one of those days.”

“Do you want a cup of tea or iced tea?” you ask as you open your fridge. “I should warn you though, they’re addictive.”

“What flavour iced tea do you have?” you smile, James might be someone else you get hooked on them.

“Peach, hibiscus and I think I see one last cucumber melon.”

“Which is your favourite?”

“Peach! It’s not really that sweet though, but if you like it super sweet maybe hibiscus would be better.”

James smiles at the way you ramble as he opens up his toolkit and then the pipes.

“I’ll take the peach angel,” you pass him the glass bottle after tipping it upside down. James takes a long sip and sighs, “That’s good.” you nod and then move to take out a bowl of rice and chicken.

“Do you need me to get anything? To help?” you ask and James shakes his head.

“Not right now,” you think about going to eat before asking,

“Can I watch? Just to know what you’re doing?” then you back track as James doesn’t say anything.

“Not because I don’t trust you to do it well, I just like knowing. Like with my door, I learned how to put it up when I had to change it,” you realise you’re rambling when James smiles and his dimple is visible through his stubble.

“You can watch angel, you can hand me the tools I’ll need.”

You and James make a good team- you’d been nervous at first and then when James was so close you could smell his coconutty cologne you felt your head go a little light but almost two hours later, your pipes were changed.

“Moment of truth is if the water goes down,” you say as you stand, knees cracking in the process.

James nods, “You’re not a bad assistant, if you ever change professions I’ll put in a good word for you.”

You beam at that before opening up the tap and letting the water flow. Not even a drop of it pools in the sink and your heart feels like a feather floating away in the breeze.

“You did it!” you turn to James with a pleased smile and he blushes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you exclaim and he chuckles, already packing up his toolkit.

“You’re welcome angel, Michael already paid by the way.”

You shake your head at your brother’s actions, but you can’t find it in you to be upset, not when your sink is fixed. “Can I entice you to have dinner then? I’ll feel bad if you just go,” you tack on when James doesn’t answer. “I’ve got pizza or taco bowls.” you sing-song and that breaks him.

“What kind of pizza?”

It’s how James ends up on your sofa, overalls hanging off his hips, revealing a dark red compression shirt as he holds his plate.

Your blanket is still on the sofa, but you shove it to the armchair.

“Wanna watch anything specific? I’m going through Christmas movies right now,” James’ eyes are wide at your confession.

“It’s the middle of August,” you nod and bite your bar-b-que chicken pizza.

“I’m making a short list of Christmas movies for this Christmas. Last three years in a row I did one.”

James grins, “So I take it you like the season.”

You nod, “If you ask Michael, he’d tell you I was obsessed with it,” you shrug, setting down the slice of pizza.

“When we were kids, I used to go crazy about it. Write letters to Santa with our address and mail it, play Christmas songs all through the month and I was a little excessive with the decorations- especially when I started working and could buy the ones I wanted. It just always feels like a good time- eternal joy and hope and all that jazz I guess.”

James looks around your house now and finds a few trinkets in the space and for a moment he can imagine it decked out for Christmas. “I can see it,” he groans as he takes a bite. “That’s delicious, angel.”

Your face gets hot under the compliment and you give James a small smile.

“What are you watching now?” he asks, taking another bite.

“The Holiday,” you search for the remote and find the movie. “It makes the shortlist every year, but it’s so good.”

James and you watch the remaining forty five minutes, and he nudges your shoulder during the sad parts so you don’t let the tears in your eyes fall.

“Do you think people rent that cottage?” He asks you and you frown.

“I dunno, but if it’s for rent it’ll be so nice! It’s so cosy looking.”

James doesn’t point out that your house looks just as cosy. It reminds him of the houses you see in magazines- not the boring ones that’s all one colour and minimalistic, but the ones that seem to be alive with colour and things.

He’s sure they all serve a purpose- the small statues in one corner near your window, the coasters that look like flowers, it all seems to complement you and your home and James thinks to himself, ‘this is what a home should be.’

He stretches as he stands and you do as well, reaching for his plate that he doesn’t give. Instead he takes your own and walks to the kitchen.

“You’re a guest, guests don’t do the dishes.” you try to get your plate back but it’s no use, James is already washing them and stacking them in the draining board.

“Thanks for dinner angel,” he picks up his toolkit and the bucket of parts that need to be tossed out.

“You’re welcome, thanks for fixing my pipes.”

James waves it off, “I’d say we should do this again sometime, but changing your pipes so frequently isn’t ideal.”

It isn’t till after you hear the innuendo in his words. You do laugh a little in the moment, so James counts it as a win. Your laugh reminds him of that fairy in the show his niece loves- a sweet tinkering, bell-like sound that makes him smile.

“It was nice though. You’re good company.”

You walk James to the door, “Make sure and lock up,” he says kindly and you nod.

You notice that you don’t hear his boots don’t move till he hears the locks click and your heart flutters stupidly at the action.

You can’t like him already, you barely know him. A voice in the back of your head says, “But he’s already so dreamy,” you’re very inclined to agree.

-

You’d thought that would’ve been the last time you saw James too, but three weeks later, he’s at your brother’s house for his summer party and you’re fucked all over again.

He’s not a bad sight to be greeted with, arms exposed in his black tank top and his thighs. They’re thick and you can see the outline of muscle on them, even from far away. There’s a couple smattering of tattoos that peak from the hem of his shorts and you have to stop yourself from drooling.

He’s laughing at something Shanice is telling him, and he looks even more gorgeous.

It should be illegal, you think to yourself, for the man to look that effortlessly beautiful.

“You made it!” Michael says, handing you the drink in his hand before gesturing for you to follow him.

“You said if I didn’t come you’d have called me non-stop. I love you, but that’s annoying.” Michael leads you over to his fiance and James. You hug Shanice and wave politely at James.

Conversation is easy, and James hopes he’s being discrete as his gaze falls to you a little longer than necessary. You catch him once, and the look in his eyes confuses you just a little.

You don’t think badly of yourself, but you’re just in a pair of jean shorts and the top of your bikini- a pretty pink colour, after you’d read an article about lifeguards having a hard time spotting people in pools and the ocean if they had on blues and greens- is exposed by your lack of shirt.

In any case, you didn’t think it was cause for his stares to linger and look so… primal if that was even the right word.

Michael says, “James, do you know any good alarm systems?” as you sip your peach iced tea and vodka. You elbow your brother as James nods.

“There’s a few out there that I’d recommend, why?”

“Don’t,” you murmur to Michael who ignores you entirely.

Your brother doesn’t hesitate as he says, “Someone broke into her house a couple weeks ago and she hasn’t been able to sleep in her room since.”

“Yeah, just talk about me like I’m invisible,” you mutter and James feels anger and fury for you fester in his chest. It blooms rapidly and takes him by surprise.

“You’re not invisible, you’re just a hard head.” your brother says, James is inclined to agree as well- especially after the portion of the conversation he had overheard that first day you met.

“I can stop by the hardware tomorrow if you want, should have some of the ones I usually recommend.”

Your brother smirks and you feel shame and something you can’t yet name balloon your belly.

“Thank you, James,” you say as you finish off your vodka iced tea, already feeling for another one.

As the food comes out, you help yourself; ensuring to avoid James’ gaze because over the last couple weeks he’s seemed to come to know a lot of the bad things about your life. You pile watermelon and pineapple on one side of your plate before picking some fries and a bar-b-que chicken breast. Your hand reaches for a lemonade when a bigger one grabs it.

“I got it angel,” James’ own plate is full too. More meat than fruit but it’s fuel either way so it doesn’t bother you. “Where’re you sitting?”

You point to the seat near the pool.

“You don’t have to be so nice, James. Michael’s mouth is just too big for his own good.”

James rolls his eyes, “I’m not being nice because of him,” he says, taking the seat beside you and handing over your lemonade after cracking the seal. “Or because I fixed your pipes, or anything else.”

You frown as you chomp on a piece of watermelon. “You’re not?”

James shakes his head, digging into his food.

You squint at him and James chuckles, “No, you should feel safe in your house.”

You don’t say anything much after that, overwhelmed by his care- even if you’re stopping yourself from reading too far into it.

“You’re real sweet, James.” you say after a while, spearing a look at him to find his eyes already on you; that same kind of hungry look in his eyes like earlier.

“Yeah?” he hums and for a moment you want him to kiss you. You want to feel the press and the heat of his lips on yours, then you catch the thought. You hardly know him. But you want him and him coming over to install the security system might not go as smoothly as the plumbing had gone. You find you wouldn’t mind if James does something other than install the alarm system.