lxvchrismd

Six months. Six months it had been since she walked out. Morgan had tried at first. Calls, texts, even showing up at her apartment. But, she never opened the door. Her silence said everything his words never could.

Now his place felt too big, too *quiet.* Every corner of it whispered her name, like her once existing presence haunted him with every chance it got. Her mug still in the sink, her scrunchie on the bathroom counter, a faint trace of her perfume on the pillow he couldn’t bring himself to wash.

He tried drowning it out by hanging with the boys, going out for drinks ever so often, streaming more. But nothing worked. No matter how hard he tried, she would never leave the back of his mind. and it absolutely haunted him.

He wasn’t even going to come to the influencer event tonight, he was going to make up some shitty excuse to get out of it. But his mates convinced him. So he put on his best suit, and made his way to the venue.

He was standing around with his mates, two drinks deep. He was honestly questioning why he was eveh considering cancelling. Tays was having a laugh, making fun of morgan’s drunken tangents. He tried to play it off, but morgan immediately clocked the way tays smile dropped almost instantly.

As soon as he turned to the direction tays was looking, he spotted her. Long black dress, hair down, and the man whom she was hand in hand with. His throat immediately went dry. He wasn’t even aware that he started walking in her direction until he was making direct eye contact with her. For a second, the world around them fell silent. No cameras, no noise, just the familiar sting of memory.

“Hey,” he said finally, voice low, uncertain. “Morgan.” Her tone was distant, like she was talking to a stranger she used to know. The man beside her turned slightly, curious. Morgan’s jaw clenched. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Didn’t expect to come.”

“Who’s this?” he asked, nodding toward the guy beside her. “Elijah,” she said easily. “My boyfriend.” The word sliced through him. Boyfriend.

The lad reached out to shake his hand. Morgan did, barely, before letting go. His throat felt dry. “Didn’t take long, huh?” he muttered.


Her eyes softened. Not with love, but pity. “Morgan. I gave you *so* many chances, yet you fucked up every single one. I can’t allow myself to beg for love where it was never given in the first place.” He stepped closer, desperation leaking into his voice. “I still love you.”

She smiled sadly. “Maybe you do. But I don’t love the version of me that begged for scraps of your attention. I outgrew her. And you.”

‘Friends with benefits’ is what they called it. ‘No strings attached, just messing around.’ At least, that’s what they told everyone. Even though Y/n agreed to this, she agreed with Alfie to keep this a ‘no strings attached’ situation, she couldn’t help it. The feelings were too much to hide; to handle.

Their friend group had this way of staying in contact with each other, going out for drinks every second weekend. It was like a tradition that they loved to do. Everyone got to catch up, let loose, forget about the stress that had been building for the last fortnight. It was great.

As Y/n was sitting with Becky, Faith and freya, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Bella flirting with Alfie. Now usually this type of stuff wouldn’t bother her at all. But the fact that Alfie was entertaining it? Pissed her right off.

Becky noticed. Becky always noticed. Y/n’s tensed shoulders, clenched jaw. She noticed. Y/n had skulked her drink, and made a beeline straight for the entrance of the bar. Becky and Freya looked at each other with a concerned look, before becky got up, following Y/n.

As she got outside, she was met with the site of Y/n sitting up against the brick wall, knees bent up to her chest as she picked at the skin surrounded her nails. She walked up cautiously, sitting next to y/n. “Y/n, babe. You okay?”

Y/n laughed angrily. “I’m so stupid becky. How could I even fucking think that he felt the same feelings I did. We agreed to that no strings attached’ bullshit, and I fucking fumbled it. I don’t know why i even thought he’d feel the same way. Lad im so fucking stupid.”

Becky’s eyes softened as she heard her friends confession. ‘Poor girl’, she thought. She immediately pulled Y/n in for a comforting hug, patting y/n’s back. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t know what to say. That’s pretty valid though.

“I’m gonna head home. Tell everyone- Just tell everyone i didn’t feel good or something.” As much as Becky wanted Y/n to stay, to have a good time, she understood. “That’s okay Y/n. Just text me when you get home so I know you’re okay.”

It’d been a few weeks. A few weeks since Y/n walked away from that pub, a few weeks of no contact with Alfie. She knew her feelings had gotten out of hand, and she wanted them to stop. It was fucking with her head, and she felt like she was drowning.

Alfie was stressing. One minute she was fine, they’d hook up, and then hang out like normal friends. And the next? He didn’t hear from her in 3 weeks. It was fucking with his head, and he needed to find the cause.

As soon as he got out of his defender, he didn’t even bother knocking. He remembered where she kept her spare key. Underneath the ‘welcome’ mat. He bent down, his knees cracking in the moment. As soon as he had holding the key, he fiddled with it before he put it in the doorknob, twisting it before walking inside, shutting the door behind him.

It wasn’t his house, but he knew his way around. He immediately walked from the living room to her room, where he knew she’d be. He knew. He opened the door to the sight of Y/n sitting in her bed, scrolling through he social media.

“So, are you gonna give me a reason why you’re ignoring me girl?” She was startled to hear a random voice in her empty house, but relaxed a bit once she recognised that face. She could recognise it from anywhere.

She sighed, turning her phone off before standing up. “What are you doing here? Who said you were allowed to just waltz into my house”. He puts his hands up in surrender. “Easy girl, that’s your fault for telling me where you keep the spare key.”

“God, you’re so fucking insane dude. First you’re deep inside of me, telling me how no one will ever compare to me, then the next you’re basically down bella’s fucking pants? like are you fucking insane?” She snaps. God, she was so done with his bullshit.

His jaw immediately clenched, his eyes narrowing. The fuck was this girl on about? “What are you even going on about? She’s butters, i’d never even think about sleeping with her.” “Oh are you sure about that? Didn’t seem that way to me when you were basically all over her at the bar you fucking twatty prick.”

He was getting well and truly pissed off now. Bella? Like the Bella who sleeps with everything and everyone? This girls insane. “First of all, watch your fucking mouth. Who do you think you’re even speaking too? Second of all, I suggest you stop making assumptions up before I have to fuck it into you and prove that i don’t want her.”

Y/n stopped talking immediately, caught off guard. What did he just say? “….what?” “You heard me girl, do I need to prove it or what?” She looked at him, nothing his clenched jaw, narrowed eyes. “Prove it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately latched his lips to her, kissing her roughly, his hands roaming over her body, like he was trying to remember every curve. She kissed him back, hands tangled in his hair as she drowned the kiss, trying to take control, but he wasn’t having it.

He immediately pushed her onto the bed, taking off his shirt in a rushed hurry as his shirts followe closely behind. She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down, tearing off every inch of her clothing. He looked down at her, like he was hunting his prey, and she was the victim.

“Hands and knees, now.” She immediately turned around, getting on her hands and knees as she arched her back. She could feel his presence behind her. He immediately slammed into her, no warning. “Oh- ALFIE!” She moaned, but he didn’t care. He immediately started thrusting into her, using his hand to push her head into the pillows.

He leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. He nipped and kissed at the sensitive skin, leaving marks on her skin, possessive and needy. He grabbed her thigh, gripping it tightly. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice a low growl. "Don't ever forget that. Don’t ever doubt that for one second girl.”

Her legs began to shake as she was close to her orgasm, her eyes watering. She couldn’t even form a coherent sentence at this point. He knew her too well, he knew she was close, so he sped up his actions. With a moan of his name, she finished, collapsing onto the bed.

“Oh fuck, Y/n!” He groaned loudly, before spilling into her. He immediately collapsed beside her, pulling her onto his chest. They laid there in a comfortable silence, before Alfie spoke up.

The music throbbed like a migraine in her skull. Y/N pressed her fingers to her temple, eyes scanning the room as she stepped out of the bathroom.

She hadn’t wanted to come. But Morgan, Ginge, as everyone else called him had asked. After weeks of being distant, of ignoring her texts, of brushing her off with, "Babe, I'm editing. Can we not do this now?" He finally invited her to a party his crowd, his people, his world. She said yes. Even if the way he said “you can come if you want”didn’t exactly sound like an invitation.

She smoothed her dress, inhaled a shaky breath, and followed the sound of his voice down the hallway. His laugh drifted into the air before she saw him. He was leaned back on the couch, drink in hand, surrounded by other creators people with million subscriber plaques and curated lives. People who didn’t know her. People who didn’t want to. She was about to step forward when she heard her name.

“Y/N?” She froze. “Mate, she’s so fucking clingy. Like… I literally give her a few hours of my week and she still acts like that’s not enough.” Her stomach flipped.

Morgan’s voice again, louder this time. Laughing. “Swear to God, she threw a fit because I didn’t text her goodnight. Like, I’m not her fucking emotional support animal.” He laughed, his friends laughter following close behind.

“I only brought her here so she’d shut up about us ‘not spending time together anymore’. Honestly, I’ll probably just ride it out until she breaks up with me. Save me the trouble.” His friends voice following close behind “Why are you even with her mate? You know you could get with any girl you wanted.”

Morgan smiled, looking at his friend before he began to speak. “She’s just easy, you know? I can kiss and cuddle her as an apology and she’ll stop fucking arguing with me. Any other girl won’t be like that and I know it. I’m just playing the safe game.”

Y/N didn’t realize she was shaking until her hand hit the hallway wall to steady herself. Her throat was tight. Like she’d swallowed glass. She turned around, and walked back down the hallway, out towards the backyard.

As Morgan was laughing, he caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. He quickly looks over, as she makes direct eye contact with him. Her eyes weren’t teary, they weren’t angry, They were numb. And somehow, that scared him more.

“I heard everything,” she said, her voice eerily calm. The room quieted around them, heads turned. He opened his mouth some bullshit excuse already forming, but she raised her hand.

“No need to fucking explain, I got the memo. You could’ve just told me that I was being ‘too clingy’, or annoying.” She says, ignoring when her phone screen lit up with the uber confirmation.

“I gave you everything, Morgan. My time, my patience. I waited while you chased a spotlight I never wanted to stand in.” A bitter smile curled on her lips.“I begged you to choose me. And you did, just not in front of anyone that mattered.”

He tried to stand, but she stepped back like his presence burned. “We’re done,” she said, voice sharp. “Enjoy your party. My shit will be out of your apartment by tomorrow.”

It all started at Hole 4, or as Y/N liked to call it: “Where dignity comes to die.” She was halfway through a Guinness, when Chris had made a comment about pineapple on pizza. She immediately said without hesitation “I once dated a guy who liked pineapple on pizza. He’s dead now. Not related at all, just thought I’d mention it.”

Chris almost choked on his beer, Becky cackled, whilst Harry bach and George sat there wide eyed. Arthur, who had only just met Y/N fifteen minutes ago, stared at her like she was a rare Pokémon card with a knife “Wait, dead… like, actually?” She sipped her drink. “Guess you’ll never know.”

Chris had warned him. “She’s unhinged, but in a hot way.” Arthur didn’t know what that meant until Hole 7, where Y/N asked him what song he was working on.

“It’s kind of acoustic, soft rock vibes, emotional-“ Can you write me a diss track about my Year 9 maths teacher? Preferably with a banjo?” He laughed, like a little school girl. Jeez, this was so cringe for everyone.

“He told me I’d never amount to anything. Now I have 400k subs and IBS. Who’s the real winner?” Arthur blinked. “You… okay?” “Absolutely not.” He was in love. He didn’t know it yet, but he was.

By Hole 9, everyone was hammered. George was doing a shot off a traffic cone. Harry had somehow just realised he’s left his phone at a previous pub. Y/n was quite obviously affected by the alcohol, which tends to make her a little more… unhinged.

She was currently sitting, and listening to everyone talk. As Chris began to talk about his ex for the 50th time tonight, she decided to speak up. “God Chris, at this rate you’re going to die alone. I don’t know how girls manage to make it through the date if all you talk about is your ex. I’d rather shit in my hands and clap than hear another not-so fun fact about your ex.”

Chris immediately shut up, pursing his lips into a thin line as everyone began to laugh at her comment. If there’s one thing about Y/n, she doesn’t hold back when she hates the topic of interest happening.

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Y/N hadn’t seen him since Year 11. She didn’t care to. Or so she told herself. He was nothing more than a name in old class group chats and someone she occasionally saw on Instagram stories — mostly with Jackson. And that made her blood boil.

The reunion tonight was at some posh flat in East London. It was loud, packed with people who all knew each other through someone else. One of those high school reunions where old situationships, one night stands, and people with pure hatred for each other were all in one place again.

Y/N had just finished her shot she had agreed to do with some old friends, when she saw him.

George. Taller now, more defined. Hairstyle now a mullet, styled like he barely tried — but of course, it suited him. He laughed with someone across the room, head tilted back, that grin she hated etched across his face.

She turned away quickly, heart racing in spite of herself.

But as the night wore on and drinks loosened tongues, she kept bumping into him — in the kitchen, in the hallway, once at the bathroom door. Until finally, it happened.

They both find themselves alone in Jackson’s bedroom, the others had gone back outside to the fire. Silence wrapped around them like tension waiting to snap. “Still can’t even look at me?” George’s voice was deeper now, sharper with age. Y/N scoffed. “What’s the point?”

He stepped closer, expression unreadable. “You still hate me, even after secondary. What did I ever do to you?” Her jaw tightened. “What did you do?” She turned to him, eyes narrowed. “You fucked my best friend and then acted like I was crazy for being upset.” George looked genuinely stunned, his brows knitting. “You think I slept with Ellie?”

“Jackson told me. You think I just made it up?” He laughed once, bitterly. “Jackson told you? The same Jackson who had a thing for you since Year 10? You believed him over me?” She blinked, her lips parting slightly.

“I never fucked her,” he growled, stepping closer. “I never even kissed her. I liked you, Y/N. I’ve always liked you.”

She stared, breathing uneven. The air between them pulsed.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” she snapped.

“I was going to, the night of Chloe’s house party.” He says, quietly. “But then you came in, crying, and told me to go fuck myself before I could even speak.” Her mouth opened, no words coming.

“You never even asked me,” he said, quieter now, but with more pain in his voice. “You just hated me. For something I never did.”

A silence settled. Then suddenly she kissed him.

Hard, furious. Lips colliding like a challenge, hands pushing at his chest, his back hitting the wall behind them with a thud.

He groaned into her mouth, pulling her closer, hands gripping her waist as if afraid she’d disappear again.

“Fucking hell, I’ve waited years for this,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her again. Deeper this time, hungrier. Her hands fumbled under his shirt, feeling the tight plane of his stomach, the ridges of muscle as he hissed at her touch. His fingers slid under the hem of her dress, pushing it up with growing urgency.

He kept walking, backing her up against the bed frame until she fell, him softly landing on top of her. His hands roaming around her body, almost as if he’s trying to remember every curve.

“Do you want this?” He asked as he pulled back from the kiss, his voice raw with lust. “Please.” she breathed. He didn’t need to be told twice. She gasped as he slid her panties down, the cool air hitting her skin. He slowly pushed his fingers inside of her, making sure she felt every movement he made, making her almost whimper in pleasure. He chuckled, looking at her reaction to his teasing. “You’re soaked.” “Then do something about it,” she snapped, voice breathless.

Now this? This got him. He immediately unbuckled his belt, taking his boxers and jeans with it. He positioned himself in between her legs almost like he belonged there - he did. He looks at her, almost looking for confirmation, to which she nodded.

She gasped as she felt him enter her. His pace was deep and slow at first, almost teasing. He wanted her to feel everything. “George- please. Faster.” As soon as he heard her pleas, his thrusts became harder, making the tension unravel.

One hand on her hip, the other gripping her hair gently, guiding her movements as they both lost themselves in the moment.

Each thrust drove away the years of silence, of pain, of things unsaid. “Say it,” he growled. She bit her lip, moaning louder. “I want you.” He angled deeper, hitting that spot that made her cry out.

“Louder.” “I want you, George,” she moaned. “I always fucking wanted you.” He let out a low growl, thrusting harder, her name a curse on his lips as they both reached the edge. When they came it was together. messy, loud, and real.

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But then she appeared. Y/H/C hair slightly wind-mussed, a Save the Axolotls tote bag hanging off one shoulder, and her face utterly lit up as she observed the Poison Dart frog exhibit.

Her Y/E/C eyes were wide behind round glasses, and she was muttering facts under her breath. Very softly, but Arthur had exceptional hearing when it came to frog-related information.

“They secrete batrachotoxin through their skin… mad.” Arthur froze. Then immediately panicked. Say something, you idiot. “They don’t technically produce the toxin themselves. It’s from their diet. You know. Ants. Mites. Delicious stuff.”

Y/N blinked and turned. Arthur nearly combusted on the spot. She had dimples. DIMPLES.

“Really?” she said, smiling “That’s mad. I thought they just… made it. Like a weird little skin oven.” Arthur laughed. Maybe a little too loudly. He pushed his glasses up and nodded. “No, yeah. They’re like… toxin middlemen.”

Y/N giggled. And Arthur’s brain did something embarrassing like shut down. “Wait, are those frog socks?” she asked, pointing down. “That’s brilliant.” Arthur looked down like he had forgotten his legs existed. “Oh. Uh. Yes. These are… Er. They were a gift. From my nan.”

Her eyes lit up. “I love that. Nans are the best.” “Yours into frogs too?” “She’s more of a tortoise woman, to be honest.”

They both laughed. It was awkward. Like, very awkward. But also… not bad. Kind of the lovely, melting sort of awkward. Like warm custard in your ribs.

They wandered together to the next exhibit. Something about jellyfish and bioluminescence. Y/N gasped when one pulsed a soft pink.

“Isn’t that just… romantic?” she said softly, eyes wide.

Arthur nearly tripped over a bench. Romantic??? She thought jellyfish were romantic??? He might die. Right here. In front of the cnidarians.

“Very. Like, the… the underwater candlelight of the sea,” he blurted. She turned to look at him, amused. “That was… poetic.” “Accidentally,” he muttered.

They kept walking, brushing shoulders every so often and pretending not to notice. Arthur’s cheeks were permanently red now. Y/N twirled a strand of her hair around her finger, eyes flitting to him then away every few seconds.

They made it to the fossil wing. She gasped again, this time dragging him by the sleeve toward a model of a Microraptor.

“Look! They had feathers! Like actual feathers! Isn’t that mad?”

“I’d let one nest in my hair, honestly,” Arthur said, without thinking.

Y/N blinked at him. “I mean… not literally. I just meant- they’re cool. The raptors. Not nesting. Unless you like nesting. In which case-“ “I do like nesting,” she said, lips twitching. Arthur’s eyes widened. “Right. Great. Same.”

Y/N smiled, shifting a little closer. “You’re very awkward, aren’t you?” Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Unapologetically.” “like that.”

“Really?” She nodded. “Yeah. It’s sweet. Like… melting chocolate sweet.” Arthur’s heart did something dangerous. “Like... 70% cacao or… like, Milkybar?”

She bit her lip to hide a grin. “Definitely Milkybar.” He felt like his ears were on fire. “You know… this might be weird. Or premature. But would you maybe want to… go to the gift shop together?” Y/N blinked. “That’s the cutest sentence anyone’s ever said to me.” “Really?” She nodded, eyes soft. “I’d love that.”

They stood there for a second. The museum buzzed around them. tourists, kids, tour guides explaining dinosaur poop. but for a moment, it was quiet. Just the two of them. Two awkward science nerds, hearts gently melting like caramel on a warm plate.

Y/N bumped his shoulder. “Come on then, frog boy. Let’s find you a tortoise keyring.”

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As she was looking around, she spotted a guy at the pull-up bar, who looked like he’d just finished his set. He was attractive, to say the least. Brunette curly hair, tall, and bulky as all hell. She was too distracted on thinking about how attractive he was, to realise he was staring directly at her.

As soon as she noticed, she was quite literally mortified. She quickly looked away, face red. She immediately walks towards the changing room, gets her bag and leaves.

Y/n and “hot gym guy” had ran into each other a few more times since the first embarrassing interaction. At the gym, grocery store, the parking lot of the gym. There were only a few limited “Hello’s”, nice smiles, and a few nods, but other than that they never really talked, just two random strangers.

Until, fate took its course. Y/n and her girls were currently on a girls night, a reoccurring scene every Friday. She was currently sitting at the bar with her friends, halfway through her cocktail as she felt someone tap her shoulder. As she turned around, she seen those oh-so familiar eyes again.

“I didn’t know you cleaned up this well outside of the gym, otherwise i’d have asked for your snap earlier”. He says, his signature smile on display. “Mmh, yeah? Well I didn’t know you were capable of expanding your vocabulary from the word “hello”. She says, smiling widely.

He rolls his eyes playfully, before pushing her shoulder gently. “I’m Alfie, you are?” “Y/n.” She answers, a cheeky tone behind it. “Are you always this sassy, or is it just the vodka?” “there’s only one way to find out.”

Its safe to say that they didn’t last long at the bar. Ten minutes later, they were in the back of an Uber, his hand on her thigh, her lips brushing against his jaw, tasting whiskey and want. The ride was a blur. They crashed into his apartment like a storm.

Alfie pressed her against the wall the second the door shut, his mouth crashing into hers, hot and hungry. His hands gripped her waist, sliding up her sides like he was trying to memorize every single curve.

They stumbled toward the bedroom, clothes falling in their path. Her dress hit the floor, followed by her bra. His jeans and top were next. He laid her on the bed like she was fragile, as his head automatically went between her legs.

Y/n sat up against the headboard as she looked down at Alfie, her chest rising and falling quickly. Alfie slowly takes her panties off, throwing them behind his shoulder. He looks up ar her, silently asking for permission. She immediately nodded her head with no hesitation.

He slowly stuck his finger inside of her, watching her reaction. She leaned her head back, letting out a small moan as she felt his finger stretching her out. “Alfie!” She moans, her back arching as her hand lands of top of his. He starts to move his fingers faster, wanting her hear more of her moans.

“Alfie- OH! Alfie, I need you. Please!” Hearing this; he snaps. He immediately takes off his boxers, and slides himself inside of her. It was slow, deep. A stretch that made her bite her lip to stifle the moan. He filled her completely, holding her legs apart, watching her fall apart under him. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You feel like heaven.”

His rhythm was teasing, almost like he was testing the waters with how much she could take. But as soon as she dug her nails into his back and begged for more? that’s when things started to speed up. He gripped her hips, thrusts hard and punishing. But his mouth never left hers for long.

Even though this was their first time together, it felt like he knew her body inside and out. She began to clench, her moans turning into loud whimpers as she gets close. She closes her eyes tightly, throwing her head back in ecstasy. However, Alfie didn’t like this. Not one bit.

“Look at me,” he growled when her eyes fluttered shut. “I want you to look at me when you cum.” And she did. Loud, messy, clenching around him as he followed not long after, spilling into her with a strangled moan of her name. They lay there for a moment, breathless, sweaty, bodies tangled together.

His body collapses next to hers, chest rising and falling heavily as he catches his breath. After a minute or two, he finally speaks.

“So… you play clash of clans?”

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The grocery store hummed with low conversations and quiet music, a mundane Monday afternoon in the middle of June. Fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, illuminating rows of produce and brightly colored cereal boxes.

Y/N had headphones in, a trolley half-full of random things she probably didn’t need, and a soft hum in her throat as she moved through the aisles, lost in her own little world…. Until her world collided with someone else’s.

She rounded the corner a little too fast. Her trolley clipped another, small crash. A red apple hit the floor and rolled dramatically away. Y/N gasped.

“Oh! I’m so sorry-“ she began, tugging her headphones out quickly, flustered and ready to apologize a hundred times over. But then she looked up, and he was smiling. “Don’t be.”

The boy said. Tall, messy brown curls, a dimple in his left cheek, and the kindest eyes she’d ever seen. He looked… soft. Familiar, somehow. Like a favorite book you haven’t read yet.

“I’m Will,” he added after a beat, blinking like he hadn’t meant to say that so fast. Y/N laughed. The kind of shy, breathless sound that slips out before you can catch it. “Y/N. Uh- sorry again. I wasn’t looking.”

“It’s okay. You looked like you were in the middle of a concert,” he said, gesturing to her headphones still tangled in her fingers. “What were you listening to?” She smiled “Laufey. From the Start. I’ve had it on repeat all day.”

Will’s eyes widened, like that answer surprised him in the best way. “I love that song,” he said. “It’s like… poetic as all hell.” Her heart tugged in her chest. She found his awkwardness very cute. She didn’t know him, not really. But something about the way he said that made her stomach flip.

They stood there for a second too long. The apple lay forgotten by the freezer section. Then Will spoke again. “Well, now I feel like I have to do something romantic. Since you were literally listening to a love song when we crashed into each other.”

Y/N raised a brow, playing along. “Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?” He bent to grab the apple, then handed it to her with a dramatic flourish. “For you, m’lady. A peace offering, and a sign that fate exists.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing, but took the apple anyway. Their fingers brushed for half a second too long. “ Thanks,” she murmured. “I’ll treasure it forever.” “Or, like… eat it in the car on the way home,” Will offered, grinning. “Same thing.”

They both stood there, kind of swaying, kind of not wanting to move on. It was the kind of silence that wasn’t awkward, just full. Full of what ifs, maybe’s and I hope I see you agains from the both of them.

Will scratched the back of his neck. “I know this is weird, but… can I walk with you? I mean… I’ve always wanted a grocery shopping montage with someone cute. A wattpad kinda story.” He chuckled softly. Y/N blinked. “A montage?” “Yeah. You know. Bantering over cereal brands. Judging each other’s snack choices. Something out of a rom-com.”

She smiled, cheeks warm. “Only if we end it with ice cream.” Will’s grin was like sunlight breaking through. “It’s a deal. So they walked side by side. They argued over which chocolate was superior. She made fun of his sad attempt at picking a wine. He teased her for buying the overpriced granola. And when they stood in the freezer aisle, hands wrapped around the same tub of strawberry ice cream

“Crazy question. But do you believe in love at first sight?” Y/N looked up at him. The music overhead shifted. Some jazzy, gentle instrumental. And it felt like something out of a dream. “I didn’t,” she said softly. “Not until today.”