#...okay maybe she won't punch you...for now...

You had met Brandon at Family Video four months ago. He had been cool, charming and asked for your number after renting Underworld. Had taken you on a date that weekend. To say you fell hard was an understatement.

Steve had watched it happen. Gritted his teeth when you stopped needing a lift from him because 'Brandon was picking me up'. Smiled when you gushed about how amazing Brandon was. Didn't say a damn word when Brandon had been rude to him.

Steve had never liked Brandon. Hated him, in fact. Robin once joked that she would going to buy Steve a Brandon shaped voodoo doll and Steve found he was a little disappointed when he realised she was joking.

The reason why Steve disliked Brandon? Well—it was mostly to do with the fact that Steve believed Brandon didn't treat you the way you deserved to be treated. He saw it on your face—the quiet disappointment when Brandon didn't compliment your new haircut, how he hadn't gotten you flowers for Valentine's Day and that day he had forgotten to take you to work to leave you to walk to Family Video in the rain.

The other reason why Steve didn't like Brandon? Well, it was because he was in love with you. Not that he would ever tell anyone that.

Despite all that, Steve was always there for you on the days (and boy, there were many) that Brandon had upset you.

But not turning up to your birthday party? Well, that was a new low, even for Brandon.

“He’ll turn up,” Steve had reassured you—not quite believing the words but not wanting to see the look on your face for even a second longer. “There’s no way he wouldn’t turn up to your birthday party.”

But apparently, Steve had been right to doubt him. Because it was now approaching midnight and there was still no sign of Brandon.

“We need to cheer her up,” Robin muttered to Steve after you had excused yourself to go to the bathroom—again.

Steve watched you go—he knew that you were going to call Brandon again. He also knew that Brandon wouldn't answer—knew you would return to the kitchen with your eyes a little red and your makeup retouched. The sight had made Steve want to pull you into his arms until you felt okay again.

Also made him want to punch Brandon repeatedly in his stupid face. Maybe hit him a few times with his nail bat.

“And how do we do that?” Steve asks as he turns back to Robin, fiddling with the label on his beer. It was lukewarm because he had been nursing the same drink for two hours. Too concerned about you to even consider drinking or partying when you were clearly upset. “You trying to make her do the robot again isn't going to cut it.”

“I was trying, okay?” Robin retorts with a roll of her eyes. “Which is a hell of a lot more than Brandon’s done. “How on earth did he forget her birthday party? She’s been talking about it for weeks!”

Steve didn’t say anything. If he was honest, he thought that Brandon just didn’t care. That knowing Brandon, he probably thought you were silly for caring so much about your twenty first birthday. Brandon was just that kind of guy—if he wasn’t interested, he couldn’t pretend to care. Not even for you. Steve wanted to punch him for it.

“Oh, I know what will make her feel better,” Robin says, her blue eyes bright as she grabs Steve’s arm—almost making him drop his beer. Not that he cared about it. But he definitely didn’t want to stain your carpet. “The cake! (y/n) loves cake—I hid it in the washing machine—”

“Hang on,” Steve interjects, torn between laughter and indignation. “The washing machine? And you thought it was a good idea? The cake was like forty five dollars. Which you still haven’t paid your half for, by the way.”

“I’ll pay you back as soon as we get paid,” Robin promises. Steve knows she would forget. He didn’t really mind—he’d spend hundreds of dollars on a cake just to make you smile. “And the washing machine is an ingenious idea! It’s not like (y/n) is going to do her laundry in the middle of a party, so she’s not going to check there!”

Steve shakes his head, deciding not to comment on Robin’s choice of hiding place for your cake.

“Do you really think the cake is a good idea?” Steve asks, a little wary. “It might upset her even more.”

“As if,” Robin scoffs, already setting down her solo cup on the kitchen countertop. “She’s going to love it.”

And before Steve could question her decision any further—Robin was already crossing the room and slipping into the laundry room quietly.

Steve hesitates. He had a feeling that this wasn’t going to go well. And so, he sets down his beer bottle so he could follow Robin but the sight of you slipping back into the kitchen makes him stop. You had definitely been crying.

You make your way quietly over to Steve—zero interest in the party raging on around you. Someone had broken a vase your mom had got you and you couldn’t care less. “Do you think he’s hurt?” You ask Steve quietly, your voice full of worry and fuck, Steve feels awful. Because despite how upset you were, you still cared about Brandon. Part of Steve wanted to shake you—make you realise Brandon didn’t deserve you. At all. “I mean—should I call the hospital? The police? What if something happened and that’s why he’s not here or answering his phone.”

Steve looks at you. He supposed you had a point—that was one explanation that could be plausible. But knowing Brandon? He was probably dodging your calls and his reason for not being here was simply because he didn’t want to be.

“(y/n),” he begins, as gently as humanely possible, “I don’t think he—”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Robin’s yell makes both you and Steve jump. And when you turn and see the cake in Robin’s hand—heart shaped, butter yellow icing, several candles burning and twenty one written in cursive on top—Steve knows instantly by the look on your face that this was an awful idea.

“Robin—”

But it was too late. Because a crowd was already gathering, drunkenly singing Happy Birthday while your face crumbles.

Steve could see it. The way your bottom lip trembled. How your eyes got a little shinier from tears threatening to fall. How you looked down at the floor—how you didn’t even try to fake a smile at the drunken singing.

And when Robin placed the cake down in front of you for you to make a wish?

Well—that was the moment you burst into tears.

The drunken singing dies down quickly. Robin realises her error too late—she stumbles over an apology but you’re already racing out the room.

Robin looks mortified. She looks as though she’s going to cry herself and Steve finally decides that the party was over.

“Alright!” He whistles, catching the attention of the crowd. “Clearly the birthday girl had too many drinks—so let’s wrap this party up, yeah?”

It was a lie—you were stone cold sober but Steve’s priority was to protect you. Always. And so, he had no problem lying to a crowd of your friends about why you had just ran off crying.

People grumble about it, but they listen. Your apartment is vacated within ten minutes—the last few stragglers tumbling into a taxi and shouting at the driver to head to the nearest bar.

Steve didn't stick around to watch your apartment clear out. He had left Robin to start the clean up operation—picking up confetti, empty beer bottles and a few stray jackets people had left behind. He grabbed you a plate of party food—since he hadn’t seen you touch so much as a cocktail sausage all night and heads towards your room.

He pauses just outside the door just to take a deep breath—wondering if it was a bad idea to go into your room. But then he hears you quietly sobbing inside and all rational thought goes out the window. He’s pushing open your bedroom door before he could second guess himself.

The sight of you curled up in your bed, sobs shaking your body as you cried fucking gutted him. He had never hated Brandon more—because he was the reason for your tears. The reason why you were crying in your party dress, ruining the makeup you had spent so long on. Steve pictured it, you applying glittering eyeshadow and painting your lips red in the hopes that Brandon would have told you that you looked beautiful. Because you did. But Brandon hadn’t even turned up. Hadn’t seen how incredible you looked. Took you for granted again.

You look up at the sound of your bedroom door opening, instantly trying to wipe your tears. Hide the evidence of what your shitty excuse for a boyfriend had done (or hadn’t done). When you see that it’s Steve entering with a paper plate of food, you soften a little and you could fucking burst into tears all over again.

“H-hi,” you stutter out. “I’m r-really sorry about that—”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Steve interrupts, closing the bedroom door behind him softly before making his way over to you. He sets down the plate of party food on your bedside table before sitting down quietly bedside you.

It’s quiet then—you sniffling and Steve watching you. Wanting to wipe away your tears. Pull you into his arms until you stopped crying. Wanting to run Brandon over with his Beamer.

“I just—I saw t-the cake and it-it just—it hit me. It’s m-my birthday a-and my boyfriend isn’t here,” you say quietly.

Steve doesn’t say anything. Because all he wants to do is yell from the rooftops how terrible he thought Brandon was. How he hated the way Brandon talked about you, took you for granted and how he didn’t appreciate you. Steve wanted to tell you that if you were his? Well, he would make sure that you never doubted him. That you’d never been crying in your bed in your party dress on your birthday over something he had done. How he would have showed up with the biggest bunch of sunflowers he could find (because he knew they were your favourite) and a birthday tiara and made sure you had the best night of your life. He would have told you that you looked like a goddess and would have spent the whole evening watching you fucking shine.

But he couldn’t tell you any of this. No matter how much he wanted to.

“I’m sorry he didn’t show, (y/n),” Steve finally says, reaching over to rub away from mascara from your cheek.

“It’s not your fault,” your murmur back. “He—he probably just d-didn’t want to come.”

Steve is taken aback by that. How honest you were. Usually when Brandon did something wrong—like that time he forgot to pick you up for work and you had to walk in the rain—you tended to brush it under the rug. Always believed that it was an honest mistake. Didn’t doubt Brandon’s intentions for even a second.

“What makes you think that?” Steve asks carefully, his hand dropping to your shoulder, thumb rubbing gently across your skin.

You turn to look at him then—and Steve looks back at you, his heart clenching at the sight of your tears. “Steve,” you begin quietly, “come on, you and I both know Brandon doesn’t do something unless he wants to.”

It was honest. It was true.

“You probably think I’m an idiot,” you continue, bottom lip quivering as you tried not to burst into tears (again). “F-for putting up with h-him always disappointing me.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” Steve tells you, his voice as soft and as gentle as the thumb brushing over your skin. “I think you just really believed in him.”

“Yeah,” you say thickly, your eyes welling up with tears all over again. “I did.”

“Hey, hey,” Steve soothes you gently, shifting a little closer to you on your bed. “Don’t cry. Please. You’ll ruin your makeup.”

You laugh at his words despite the situation, “I think it’s a bit late for that.”

Steve tries not to laugh, he really does. But he can’t help it because yeah, your makeup was ruined. Tear stains down your cheeks, glittery eyeshadow mixing with the black smears of your mascara and yet—you were still the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen. He doesn’t tell you that though, instead he just laughs and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a one armed side hug.

You don’t say it, but the hug was everything you needed and more.

“Still—he isn’t worth your tears, (y/n),” Steve tells you. “Or your patience. Or your kindness.”

“Steve—”

“I’m serious,” Steve says, ducking his head to look down at you, warm brown eyes meeting yours and making it impossible to look away. “You’re like—like sunshine and Brandon is like… this dark cloud. This cloud that—that stands in front of you and dims your light, steals your warmth.”

You’re a little speechless at his words, eyes wide and unsure of what to say. But Steve wasn’t finished.

“And—if I’m honest, he doesn’t deserve you. He’s never deserved you.”

You look back at Steve—your heart hammering in your chest and your stomach sinking as you realised that you agreed with him.

“I know,” you whisper back. “I know.”

Maybe the moment you realised Brandon wasn’t coming was your acceptance that you had been settling. That Brandon’s dismissal of the things that were important to you was something you had ignored—something you had shrugged off as not a big deal. But deep down, it had been a big deal. You had just fallen too fast for Brandon. You believed in him even when he didn’t deserve it. He had just said all the right words in those first few weeks that you couldn’t help but fall.

But now, here you were. Crying in your bedroom, your twenty first birthday party ending tears over a guy who didn’t deserve them.

“The cake looked really good,” you tell Steve with a small attempt at a smile. “Did you and Robin—”

“Bake it?” Steve interjects, smiling at you. “Yeah, I did the icing. Couldn’t you tell?”

You laugh—genuinely laugh and the room feels brighter. Steve swears his heart doubles in size. He didn’t know a better sound than your laugh.

“There’s no way,” you say through your laughter.

“You have no faith in me,” Steve says with a gentle push of your shoulder as he forces himself to pull away from you. His hands rest on his jean clad thighs, already missing your warm skin beneath his fingers. “I can ice a cake.”

“Not like that you can’t.”

“Alright,” Steve relents, putting his hands up in surrender. “You caught me. It was from that Bakery in town—”

“The one with the—”

“Yes, the one with the ridiculously overpriced macarons.”

“They’re not overpriced. They’re delicious.”

“Fine. They’re delicious and overpriced.”

You bite back a smile and reframe yourself from rolling your eyes. Steve always knew how to make you feel better. You don’t know how he did it but he seemed to possess some magical capability to make you feel better, even in moments like this. Always making you laugh. Always making everything feel lighter.

“Let me get you a piece,” Steve murmurs quietly, looking at you quickly before standing up from your bed. “The birthday girl deserves a big slice of birthday cake.”

And, before you could protest—Steve is slipping out of your bedroom to grab you a generous slice of cake.

You stay sat on your bed. Your hands fiddling with your bed covers as your eyes subconsciously moved over to the rotary phone perched on your bedside table—next to the paper plate of cocktail sausages and a slice of pizza Steve had brought you. The temptation to try calling Brandon was there—but not to ask where he was and when he would show up but instead to finally, finally put your foot down. Maybe even yell at him a little.

Steve comes back a few minutes later with two paper plates of cake in his hands.

“Let’s have a do over, shall we?” He says as he sets his plate of cake down on your desk. You try not to smile and hold out your hands for your plate but Steve shakes his head. “Let me just—”

And then he’s stuffing his free hand into his jeans pocket and pulling out a single candle and a lighter.

You swear you could have cried all over again. Not for the same reasons—but because this was so Steve. Always showing up when you needed him. Making the small moments feel big.

He stabs the candle into your slice of cake and attempts to light the thing one handed.

“Stupid fucking thing,” he mutters as he struggles.

“Let me—”

“No, it’s your birthday, your job is to sit there and look pretty,” Steve says without thinking. It came out so naturally that he didn't even register what he had said—but you do, your face burning and eyes focused on the candle he was trying to light.

He manages it, eventually. And then? He sings happy birthday to you and you swear, you had never heard a better rendition. You can't look away from him, your eyes stinging a little and your bottom lip quivering.

“Oh, no,” Steve says gently, his shoulders dropping slightly when he finishes and finally notices your unshed tears. “It wasn't supposed to make you cry again—”

“No, no,” you sniffle with a smile and shake of your head. “These are good tears. This is just—this is really sweet, Steve.”

Steve shrugs—like it was nothing. But to you? It was everything.

“Yeah well, don't go telling people about this. I got a reputation,” Steve tells you, smiling at you. Unable to look away. Wanting to capture this moment and keep it close to his chest forever.

“Sure,” you murmur back, returning his smile before your eyes drop down to the cake.

“Make a wish before I shove your face in the cake,” Steve threatens—of course he doesn't mean it but he wants to see the corner of your mouth twitch as you try (and fail) not to smile. “And make sure it's a good one.”

You hum and nod, eyes closing as you think of a wish. Steve watches you, his eyes roaming over face. Wanting to remember the way your brows scrunched together and how your nose twitched.

Finally, take a deep breath before blowing out the candles. Then, your eyes are opening and you're smiling up at Steve.

“Thank you, Steve,” you say softly to him and Steve swore that your eyes were glittering.

He almost tells you that. Almost.

“You always make me feel better,” you tell him before you could stop yourself. “Like, you just know what to say and you don't—you don't act like it's a chore.”

“'Cause it's not. I just—I can't stand the thought of you being miserable for even a second.”

You breath catches because you know he means it. Steve cared. He really fucking cared about you.

“But apparently my own boyfriend is perfectly fine with it,” you say in a shaky voice. Steve's jaw clenches at your words. You pretend not to notice. “And he doesn't care if he's the cause of it.”

It's quiet then between you and Steve's silence tells you he agreed.

“But you care,” you continue, looking at Steve and meeting his warm eyes with yours. He sees the way you're looking at him—eyes a little wide, a soft expression on your face.

Steve isn't quite sure what the do with that. He doesn't want to read too much into it. You were emotional and still had a boyfriend. Steve opens his mouth to steer the conversation back into friendly territory but the sound of your phone ringing is like a damn horn in the almost silence between you and Steve.

You blink. Steve looks down at the cake.

“Is that—”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, eyes on your rotary phone and heart in your throat. “It—it's probably Brandon.”

Steve nods, understanding that it was probably his time to leave. He hands you your plate and for a moment, your fingers touch and you a feel something deep in your gut. As though you had missed a step going downstairs.

He steps away from you, crosses your room to grab his paper plate from your desk. The phone continues to ring as he steps towards your door—

“I'm going to break up with him,” you blurt out.

That makes Steve stop in his tracks, turning around to look back at you.

“Yeah?” He asks thickly, trying not to sound too hopeful. Praying he hadn't misunderstood that look on your face.

“Yeah,” you say, quiet but determined. “I'm going to tell him I—I need someone who cares.”

It's there in the silence.

And with that, Steve nods a final time before leaving your room. His heart hammering in his chest and trying to fight back a smile.

a month later...

You had broken up with Brandon that night. He had called you to apologise—said that your birthday party had 'slipped his mind'. You didn't buy it. You had told him you were sorry too, that you didn't think it was working out between you two. Brandon's response was a stunned silence. He hadn't been expecting that. Hadn't expected you not to forgive him.

Brandon tried—he really did to get you back. He had showed up to Family Video bright and early the following Monday with a giant teddy bear strapped to the top of his car. The gifts didn't stop there—flowers, chocolates, a second giant teddy bear. You name it, Brandon had bought it. He left voicemails too. You, Steve and Robin had a good laugh listening to them.

But after nearly four weeks? Brandon got the message. The gifts stopped, the phone calls ceased and you? Well you finally felt free.

You and Steve had yet to talk about whatever that moment was between you in your bedroom. You had replayed it over and over again in your head. How you had looked at him and you saw him—finally. The guy that was always there. The one who brightened your day by just walking into a room. The way who once made you laugh so hard that you had snorted cherry soda out of your nose.

You had found yourself looking at him a lot over the past month. You weren't blind—you knew he was attractive. But now? You found yourself openly gawking at him. At his arms. At his hands. At that dark patch of hair on his chest that sometimes peaked out beneath his shirt. And his hair? You had sometimes wondered what it would be like to run your fingers through it.

And Steve? Well, he was biding his time. Giving you space to move past your breakup. Not that you seemed particularly upset—you seemed far happier out of your relationship with Brandon. Steve was just, waiting for the right moment.

“Am I being kidnapped?” You ask Robin as you follow her, blindfolded, into her house. “Why do I need to be blindfolded to see what colour your parents' painted the living room?”

“Um,” Robin replies, sounding unsure as she closes the door behind you before dragging you by the hand into her front room. “Because I like being theatrical?”

You laugh, your hands adjusting the blindfold. You catch some colourful flashing lights.

“Did your parents get a disco light?” You ask her.

“What?” Robin replies, sounding momentarily alarmed. “Oh—yeah. They um, have a lot of dinner parties.”

You let out of a snort of laughter, unable to stop yourself.

“Okay—we're good. You can take the blindfold off now.”

So you do. You lift it up off your head and—

“SURPRISE!!”

You jump out of your skin. Because you were all of a sudden surrounded by not a freshly painted room, but by all your friends.

"Robin—what the—"

"Consider it a birthday party redo."

When you look to your right and see Steve, you could have cried. And when you saw the birthday girl tiara in his hand? You swear the world could have ended around you and you still wouldn't have stopped smiling.

"My birthday was a month ago, I can't wear that—"

"Yes, you can," Steve interjects, stepping closer to you and tucking your hair behind your ears gently before placing the tiara on your head. "See? Perfect fit."

You look back up at Steve, your eyes shining and biting back a smile. Wanting to say a million things but holding back. Because you were in a room full of people and Robin was watching.

The party turned out of be considerably better than the last one. You spent most of the night laughing with Steve and dancing with Robin. Your feet hurt and you ate way too many cupcakes (also from the same bakery your cake had been from a month prior) but you didn't care.

Two hours in, you were appropriately tipsy. Giving everyone you ran into a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Robbie,” you say in a lilting voice.

Robin, who was considerably more drunk than you were, lets out a genuine giggle.

“For what?”

“For the party.”

Robin laughs again, throwing her head back and grabbing your arm to steady herself.

“Oh, (y/n), sweetie. This was all Steve's idea,” she tells you. You nearly drop your drink.

“Wh-what?”

“Oh shit,” Robin exclaims, her eyes widening. “I wasn't meant to tell you that—”

You try not to react. To not start smiling. But it was hard because realising this party had been all Steve's idea? It made you feel giddy. Made you feel—

“I think I'm going to be sick.”

“Oh, Robin,” you say, setting down your cup on the kitchen countertop and grabbing her hand. “Let's get you some fresh air, yeah?”

The two of you make your way outside, Robin looking a little pale as she follows behind you.

Once outside, you help sit her down on a bench.

“Are you really going to be sick? Because I’m not great with vomit—”

“You guys okay?”

You turn at the sound of Steve's voice, your heart beating just that a little bit faster.

“Yeah,” you tell him with a half smile as he approaches you and Robin—the back door swinging shut behind him. “Robin just doesn't feel well.”

Steve looks back at you and then down at Robin, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Robin, you need to learn to drink in moderation.”

“Nuh huh,” Robin says with a shake of her head. “Not happening.”

“Well, don't throw up on the birthday girl,” Steve tells her, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing gently.

“Her birthday was a month ago, Steve,” Robin points out.

“Still, don't throw up on her.”

“God, you're so in love with her. It's making me want to throw up even more.”

The silence that greets those words is loud. Deafening, almost. The moment the words are out of Robin's mouth, she looks at Steve in horror. Steve looks like he was the one going to be sick now. And you? You're stunned.

“Right,” Steve mutters, glancing away from Robin and letting his hand drop from your shoulder. “Well—I'm just uh, gonna go to the store and um, get some more beers—”

And before you and Robin could even breathe, Steve was heading back inside. His ears burning, his face flushed.

“Fuck!” Robin exclaims, sobering up enough to stand. “(y/n), I didn't—it slipped out—word vomit—he told me not to—“

“I got it,” you say quickly, gently pushing her back down on the bench. “I'll go. Just—don't throw up, okay?”

Robin looks as though the last thing she wants to do is listen. But something about the look on your face makes her think twice. She looks at you for a long moment before nodding.

You don't waste a second. The back door slams behind you as you re-enter Robin's house. A few of your friends greet you with drunken hollers. You smile and wave them off before you dash through the kitchen, into the living and out the front door before anyone could even think of dragging you off for some more shots.

Already, you're a little out of breath. But you keep going—jogging up the street in search of Steve. Now, Steve was substantially more athletic than you, and so you wouldn't have been surprised you if he was a few streets over by now. But then you remember the look on his face before he left and you couldn't stop now.

Your legs hurt, thighs burn and the small amount of alcohol you had consumed was hitting you. But still, you race up Robin's street.

And when you finally spot him? You're practically sprinting to keep up with him.

He must sense you—or perhaps he heard your quick steps and your heavy breathing—because he turns around, eyes wide in surprise.

“(y/n)? What are you—”

“I’m—uh,” it was only then you realised you hadn’t rehearsed what you were going to say. That you hadn’t even stopped and thought about what to say to him. You were just looking at him blankly, out of breath and face flushed from running. “I couldn’t let you leave. It’s my birthday.”

Steve doesn’t look at you, too embarrassed—ears still pink and hands tucked into his jean pockets—but he does fight back a smile. “Well, then I guess my hands are tied.”

You swallow and take a step closer, your heart thundering in your chest now. You didn’t know if it was from the running or because Steve was right in front of you now. You supposed it was a mixture of both.

“Robin told me that the party was your idea,” you say finally.

Steve looks at you at that—jaw tense and honeyed brown eyes meeting yours. Like he was terrified of your next words but not wanting to show it.

“Yeah,” Steve says, as though it was no big deal. As though solely organising a surprise party for you was a piece of cake. “I did.”

“But you let me think it was you and Robin,” I say, watching his expression closely. “Why?”

Steve looks torn—and he was. He was torn between telling you the truth and telling a little white lie. He thought he could tell you it was because Robin was busy. That the party had been at Robin’s house so of course she had been involved. But the truth was Steve had purposefully asked Robin if they could have your party at her house because he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to the fact that it had been him who had planned the whole thing. Right down to those cupcakes and the tiara still perched on your head.

He’s scared to be honest—in case he had imagined that moment between the two of you a month prior. Perhaps he had read the situation wrong. Imagined something that wasn’t there.

“Because I didn’t want to—I dunno, make you uncomfortable,” Steve says finally.

“Why would it?”

“Because—because you’re my best friend and you just went through a break up and—”

“Steve,” you interrupt him gently as your fingers wrap around his wrist, tugging a hand out of his pocket. “I need you to know that—that you could never make me uncomfortable.”

Steve’s eyes dart down to his wrist, where your fingers were wrapped around and he swallows. He looks nervous—something Steve Harrington barely felt around women. He was a confident, sometimes cocky guy when it came to women. Always knew what to say, what to do. But you touching him? That soft look on your face? Well, he suddenly had trouble remembering basic English. Hell, he own name was suddenly hazy.

“And that party—Steve, that’s the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Steve blushes—genuinely blushes—at that.

“Yeah, well. It was nothing—”

“No, Steve it was—it meant the world to me,” you tell him quietly. “Because it reminded me that—that no one has seen me, understands me the way that you do.”

Steve blinks. For a second, he looks dumbfounded—staring at you with those brown puppy dog eyes that looked a little lost.

“A—and if what Robin said was true,” you continue carefully, your eyes lifting to meet his. “Th—then I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have Steve Harrington love me.”

Steve looks as though he wants to run away. And he considers it for a full three seconds—even plans out a route of escape in his head. But then, your fingers brush down his wrist, over his palm before sliding your fingers between his. His breath hitches, he feels his stomach do things it hadn’t done in a long time. Because you were holding his hand. And he was trying not to lose his composure.

“Is it true?” You ask him quietly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Do you love me?”

He wants to lie—to tell you no. To tell you he only loved you as a friend. But after all the lies Brandon had ever fed you, Steve found he couldn’t to you. Even if he was about to face the biggest rejection of his life.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Of course I love you.”

He says it like it was a fact. Like it was as obvious as the sky being blue or water being wet. Like it was something scientists had come together to agree was undisputed—that Steve Harrington loved you and it was as simple as that.

“Good,” you whisper back—just for him. “Because I’m going to kiss you now and if you didn’t, that would have been embarrassing.”

“You’re going to what—”

But before Steve Harrington could even compute what you had just said—your free hand is gripping the front of his jacket and tugging him closer to you so you could press your lips against his. It takes him a whole four seconds to react. You almost worry you’ve made a mistake—almost pull away. But then, he lets out a small groan against your lips, his hand slipping out of yours before his arms—those fucking arms of his—wrap around your waist and he kissing you back.

You smile into the kiss as your hands cup his face, your lips moving together in a gentle dance of something new, something good. Something that wasn’t going to leave you crying in your bedroom on your birthday in a sparkling dress. Something that felt safe and strangely like home.

When you pull away—Steve’s lips chase yours and you both laugh as a few more, gentle kisses are shared between the two of you. You want more—of course you do, but you had time. Perhaps you even had forever.

“So, should we head back?” You ask him, your fingers fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “Give Robin a heart attack?”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs back, unable to wipe the smile off his face. “But just need to—”

And then he’s kissing you again. Like he couldn’t get enough. Lips moving against yours, hands tugging you closer by the belt loops. Your tiara clattering to the floor as one of his hands card through your hair.

And perhaps that was the moment—the moment you knew that Steve Harrington wasn’t going to be letting you go anytime soon.

dividers by the lovely @zclhs

the food, the lights, the ambiance, the laughter.

everything was bright, the decorations were perfect, the conversations were light and refreshing; it was a magical moment that usually happened once a year.

your boyfriend stood proudly beside you, introducing himself to your family.

everyone was so excited and curious about the potential new addition…

well, everyone except for that person.

yes.

the one who couldn't shut up.

the one who was “older,” and whom you had to respect no matter what.

the one who was so unhappy with their life that they had no other choice but to be miserable with the rest.

you tried to ignore them, your boyfriend was certainly surprised by their lack of manners, but things remained manageable.

…until they started making comments about you.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

you were all sitting down, enjoying dinner and sharing pleasantries. as soon as your aunt knew caleb was a colonel, her eyes glimmered with malice.

“you must work a lot, son,” she said, leaning in just a little bit.

caleb smiled, not imagining how outrageous her next statement would be, despite your warnings before coming.

“i do, yes.”

she then turned to you.

“you better be taking care of him. cleaning, cooking, kissing his feet. otherwise, he'll leave your lazy ass, like all the other men you failed to keep.”

her tone dripped with venom, and her eyes were burning into your soul.

your whole family remained quiet, and you were now gripping the glass of water you intended to sip from.

you wanted to leave.

or worse, to throw your drink at her, because you were fed up, and this humiliation was, by far, the worst.

caleb tensed up next to you, and he placed his utensils down with a soft clink on the plate.

“with all due respect,” he began, and your whole family stared at him with wide eyes. “i'm not lookin' for a nanny or a caretaker. i'm lookin' for someone to love.”

okay, your shoulders relaxed visibly.

his response wasn't as snarky as you thought it wo—

“and i'm sorry all the men you've possibly been with made you act like a slave in order to be kept around.”

silence.

your aunt leaned back, eyes about to pop out of their sockets.

she was never confronted before, let alone accused of being with multiple men —subtly, of course.

“do not project your resentment onto our relationship again, or anyone else's, for that matter.”

you looked at caleb with a mix of shock, surprise, and gratefulness.

your aunt stood up abruptly, making the dishes rattle over the table, and her chair scrape the floor.

“how dare you?! is this the type of man you bring to a family reunion? he's disrespectful and out of line!”

your aunt was now, again, blaming you for everything, as she finger pointed at you.

caleb stood up calmly, dabbing his lips with a napkin before gently pushing her hand away.

“the only one bein' disrespectful and standin' out of line is yourself, ma'am.”

he then took your arm softly, helping you up.

“i won't let anyone disrespect the love of my life, and we won't stay if you keep runnin' your mouth.”

your aunt opened her lips to speak, but your family soon stood up with frowns on their faces.

they didn't want you to leave, and if they had to choose between the two of you and your aunt, they'd choose you.

“i'm sorry, but he's right. you should go; you have been ruining the mood with your nasty comments.”

one of your relatives said.

your aunt huffed and crossed her arms, waiting for someone to defend her.

no one did.

she grabbed her things in a rush and left the room, shaking her head and mumbling “unbelievable” on her way out.

caleb turned to you with concern in his eyes.

“you okay? do you wanna stay? we can go if you want.”

your family watched the scene quietly, before your closest relative spoke up.

“please, stay. we're sorry that happened, she had no right insulting you like that…”

you hesitated, but caleb smiled gently at you.

after some seconds, you exhaled, trying to relieve some tension.

it was a rare event to be with all of your family, and for your boyfriend to finally meet them.

you didn't want this to become a sour memory.

“...we'll stay.”

and caleb kissed your forehead, enjoying the sighs of relief from your family members.

just like that, the magic returned.

you all sat down again, and the tense room was filled with laughter and compliments about the food you brought, which was obviously cooked by him.

they were happy to know you had someone as protective as caleb by your side, and that he did work a lot, but it was out of devotion to you.

he did cook, he did clean, he kissed your feet every day, and he could've admitted he was a slave for you and not the other way around…

but your aunt didn't have to know that.

she just had to know you had someone willing to drag her through the mud and worse if she ever dared say anything to you again.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

rafayel was being treated like royalty.

your family members were asking questions, he was enjoying the attention and the praise, and talking beautifully about you and your relationship.

however, you were soon dragged to a corner by an older cousin of yours, whose gaze screamed jealousy.

“how the fuck did you pull him? witchcraft?”

she sneered.

even though the room was noisy enough, rafayel heard every single word. he also saw how your face dropped, both from annoyance and hurt.

“there's this thing called love, you know? and we happen to love each other very much,” you calmly answered, trying to remain composed for the sake of the cheerful environment.

your cousin grinned mischievously.

“i mean, i would get it if you were rich or pretty, but you're… just you. plus, you've gained a lot of weight! maybe you should skip dinner tonight.”

rafayel's head snapped towards her as if he was possessed.

he excused himself from the couch and walked your way, his arm finding your waist immediately.

“well, aren't you lovely?”

rafayel said with his signature charming smile, as his eyes studied her intently.

your cousin smiled, thinking raffy was checking her out, until he spoke again.

“you have the nerve to be insulting, looking like… that?”

now, he knew not to speak about other people's appearances.

it wasn't necessary, it wasn't nice, it wasn't something you should ever do, because it could be harmful.

…but it felt good to see her cocky grin turn into a shocked expression, and her body stumbling back.

“i beg your pard—?”

rafayel didn't let her finish.

“no, really,” he went on, his voice light enough to be considered playful and not as hateful as he intended it to be. “your confidence is impressive.”

his tone became condescending, as if he were talking to a child, and she just scoffed, trying to recover.

“i was just joking.”

and rafayel clicked his tongue, scrunching his face ever so slightly.

“yeah, well… jokes are supposed to be funny, you know?” rafayel replied. “or clever. ideally both.”

by now, your other family members had noticed the confrontation and stopped talking, looking attentively as your cousin squirmed under your boyfriend's gaze.

“and as for the other stupid things you said, i must confess i do feel bewitched. this level of beauty, of brains, of talent…” he looked at you up and down, pulling you impossibly closer. “they drive me insane.”

your cousin was now uncomfortable, looking around for a possible escape route, but none of your family members wanted to step in.

“now, cutie… why don't we go enjoy some of the food? your mom's cooking smells divine,” he turned to you, his nose nuzzling your cheek.

and, honestly, you wanted to go with him.

but your cousin was now angrier than ever, and she threw her last drops of venom at you.

“see? he's probably fattening you up so he can leave your fucking fat ass sooner!”

you froze.

your family turned to face her, and one of your relatives stood up, approaching with heavy steps.

“what is the meaning of that language?!”

rafayel laughed softly, raising his hand before your relative could escalate things further.

“i'll handle this,” he politely said, his tone clashing with the tense atmosphere and the impending argument. “not only do you have your ass where your brain should be, but you're also incredibly miserable.”

he stepped closer, and closer, until your cousin had nowhere else to retreat to.

“if your boyfriends left you as soon as you gained weight or changed your appearance, boo-hoo, go to therapy or find better men.”

your cousin tried to speak, but he cut her off.

“but being bitter about it won't make you feel better about your failed relationships, or about how unlovable you feel.”

when he stepped away, the silence enveloped the whole room.

but it was clear everyone was on your side, given the disapproving looks that went her way.

your cousin's parents took her aside to scold her, while rafayel offered you his arm to lead you away.

“can we eat now, cutie?”

and you eagerly followed him, clinging to his arm as you both approached the table.

the rest of your family sat down as well, and dinner started.

your cousin was taken away, and the night became peaceful and joyful once again.

raffy spent the night hand-feeding you to your heart's content and whispering how gorgeous you were after each bite you took, completely enchanted and seemingly bewitched by your happy smile and relaxed body.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

where did you get this man from?

your cousins were amazed, your aunties were fawning over him, even your uncles were impressed by his knowledge and presence.

sylus was perfect…

far too perfect, in fact, that your creepy, unbearable uncle felt comfortable enough to start making stupid comments and asking questions.

“why would a man with such power settle for someone who looks like… this?” and “ah, if i were you, i'd be with a blonde bombshell with huge boobs and all! you're missing out, son!”

each comment made sylus' brows furrow more and more.

you, on the other hand, started to feel small.

your family was uncomfortable, but they weren't stopping your uncle from speaking and making vulgar gestures.

“...and that's what women are good for, anyway! and also those feminine dudes… but you know what they say: any hole is a goal! if i had your looks and aura, phew, i would leave this… boring, bland-looking partner of yours! no offense.”

all of a sudden, sylus stood up, hands resting over the table as his eyes focused on him.

“you're done,” he quietly said. it wasn't a question.

your uncle laughed, leaning back while caressing his fat belly over his shirt.

“oh, come on! it was a silly little joke! we always do this at family reunions, right?”

no one said a thing.

sylus remained stoic, his gaze unblinking.

“i gave you more time than you deserved,” he continued. “and you used every second to prove how disgusting you are.”

your uncle suddenly shifted, his expression falling.

“woah, woah! i was just saying—”

“you were putting on display your lack of respect, lack of restraint, and lack of… decency. that's what you were doing.”

the room felt suffocating.

your hand gently met sylus', quietly asking him to back down or your family would reprimand you later for this little scene.

and he noticed your gesture, but couldn't leave things as they were.

he stepped away from the table and stood behind your chair.

“you don't speak about my partner like that, you don't speculate on what i would prefer, and you certainly don't… fantasize about being me.”

your uncle stood up as well, his whole demeanor now aggressive and jumpy.

“well, this is my family! you can't disrespect me in front of my kids and—!”

“so you have kids? how unfortunate for them to listen to the plethora of nonsense you have in store.”

your cousins looked away, ashamed of their father, and even more so now that he was being called out so bluntly.

“this is how we joke around!”

your uncle approached, and sylus remained in his spot, before addressing your family.

“if any of you thinks this behavior is… humorous, now would be the time to laugh.”

no one did.

no one would, with or without sylus in sight.

however, he didn't like the silence, because it meant compliance.

no one stood up for you, no one tried to silence your uncle, and that wasn't acceptable in the slightest.

sylus' hands met your shoulders, and he looked down at you.

his gaze softened visibly.

“we're leaving,” he calmly said. “i won't ask you to stay somewhere you're disrespected.”

you didn't know what to do, but it was true you felt utterly disrespected.

and not only today; every time this uncle was around.

you finally decided to stand up and quietly gather your things, while your uncle scoffed.

“yeah, run away, you two! i was wrong about you, man! you're as weak and pathetic as they are!”

he pointed at you, and in that moment, sylus grabbed his wrist, his gaze almost murderous.

your family members gasped, your eyes went wide, and only because you held your boyfriend's arm tightly, he came back to his senses.

“let this be your last warning. next time you disrespect them or anyone else in front of me, i won't be so reasonable.”

and as soon as he released him, your uncle stumbled back, silent.

sylus draped his coat around your shoulders and guided you to the front door.

“thank you for the invitation, enjoy the rest of your dinner,” he gave a small nod to your family, hand gently pressed against your lower back.

outside, he pressed a kiss on the crown of your head, letting you take a breather from the disgusting conversation.

“you'll never have to endure anything like that ever again, darling,” he promised.

and he also promised to personally speak to your family. he wouldn't let you lose contact, but he would voice his concerns about the lack of boundaries and basic decency.

at least for tonight, you two could share an amazing dinner somewhere else, away from the drama.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

xavier was a little bit too immersed in how delicious the food was, to notice the tension bubbling.

you gave him a quick lesson on your family members' names, their kids, their spouses, and a bit of context… as well as a dash of the family drama.

it all went smoothly at first; xavier was warmly welcomed, the food was honestly out of this world, and as he went for seconds, —or maybe even thirds— the rest of your family took some time to sip some wine and chat.

that's when your least favorite old, wrinkly aunt started talking.

“you know, we used to start families while we were much… younger. aren't you afraid of losing your chance, dear?”

she asked.

you didn't look up, not expecting the question to be directed at you, but the whole table remained quiet until you made eye contact.

“who? me?”

your aunt smiled, her head shaking up and down.

“uh… i mean, that's a little bit personal, don't you think, auntie?”

you smiled, trying to be polite.

your aunt scoffed, waving her hand dismissively.

“nonsense! we are family. there shall not be such things as secrets or hidden 'personal matters' at this table. and we do worry about you, dear. time flies, and when you realize it, you'll be sad and miserable with no kids…”

she took a sip of her wine, and all of a sudden, a pair of intense, azure eyes were glaring at her.

he finished swallowing his food before putting his fork down.

“is that why you forced your daughter to get pregnant at eighteen, making her ultimately hate you and leave the country with her boyfriend, who then left her with her little son, who is now five and whom you've never met?”

complete silence.

your aunt clutched her chest, her eyes narrowing with disdain.

“how do you even— that is a personal matter!”

xavier took another bite, chewed slowly, swallowed, and then spoke with all the serenity in the world.

“i thought you said we shouldn't hide personal matters at this table.”

your aunt almost choked, suddenly pretending to be having a heart attack.

“how dare you! you're an insolent brat, disrespecting your elders!”

xavier cocked his head to the side.

he was by far older than her, but if he were to tell her, she would actually suffer from something serious.

no one paid attention to your suffering aunt, which made her even more frantic.

“well, hello?! is anyone here actually paying attention to what is happening?! this young man is trying to kill me with his disrespect!”

your relatives sighed.

“sit down, auntie…”

“our cousin's misery is totally your fault, though… we haven't seen our nephew because of you.”

more and more voices rose up, and your aunt sat down again, just as xavier finished his meal.

“so, if it wasn't clear enough before, we will start a family when we want to, and if we want to,” he finally said, regarding her initial comment, taking your hand under the table.

“but—”

“will you raise our kid?”

she paused, blinking twice.

“me?! absolutely not!”

“will you provide for them, pay for their school, feed them, change them?”

your aunt looked both outraged and shocked by his series of questions.

“that does not concern me!”

xavier nodded, gently leaning back.

“neither does deciding whether my star and i start a family.”

some of your cousins giggled; some of them watched your aunt's reaction attentively.

no one had ever talked back to her, let alone set boundaries so clearly and sharply.

your aunt had nothing left to say, so she stood up and left the room, slamming every door she encountered.

xavier kissed your cheek and looked around the table, softly gesturing at the dessert.

“can we eat it yet, or…?”

you smiled and grabbed the knife with your free hand, ready to cut some for him.

your family members relaxed at his seemingly innocent and eager question, and they all kept talking as if nothing had happened, enjoying more food and good company.

xavier intertwined your fingers with his, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he looked at you.

not only had he told that old lady what needed to be said, but he had also ensured everyone else in your family knew not to make stupid ass questions and/or comments, especially not in front of him.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

zayne was being patient, respectful, composed.

the comments were passive enough to still be taken lightly, and you were trying to take the attention away from yourself the best you could.

however, your aunt was eyeing you up and down, and then at your cousin; her daughter.

“my sweet baby just got proposed to with a huge diamond ring! it was at the best restaurant; he paid for her manicure, he even got her live music!”

she said, making everyone at the table cheer, except for your cousin, who gently shook her head.

your cousin had paid for everything, actually, and your aunt was well aware of that fact, but she would rather eat cockroaches than admit the sad truth.

“mom, stop,” you could hear your cousin's voice, but your aunt soon turned to you.

“and yet you… what have you accomplished so far? are you getting married, or is this one of your unstable flings?”

you frowned, looking up at her in disbelief.

“auntie—”

“god knows where you found him! you probably used those desperate dating apps, while my princess met her amazing boyfriend at her corporate job.~”

zayne stared at her, before looking at you, ready to stand up and take you to his car soon.

“her fiancé is amazing! he is an excellent salesman, and he's renting this gorgeous house!”

“mom, i'm helping him—” your cousin tried to speak, but your aunt smacked her arm.

“what about you, uh… what was your name again?”

zayne took a deep breath.

“zayne.”

“right, zayne. what is it that you do?”

she asked, raising an eyebrow.

your boyfriend remained quiet before finally making up his mind.

being cocky doesn't take you anywhere…

but he couldn't resist the temptation.

“i am a doctor.”

your other relatives were pleased, nodding in agreement. some of them already knew him from the stories you had shared before.

your aunt pushed her tongue against her inner cheek before masking her disdain with fake interest.

“well, unless you're a surgeon, being a doctor isn't that impressive…”

“i am akso's hospital's chief cardiac surgeon, ma'am,” he crossed his arms softly before arching an eyebrow. “shall i show you my badge as well?”

your aunt's jaw almost hit the floor. she remained stunned before smiling brightly.

“my daughter and her fiancé aren't that serious anyway! she's far prettier and better than—”

you stood up and, before you could process what you were about to say, the words came out of your mouth.

“don't you dare! you've been nothing but annoying, and now you want to shamelessly pair up my boyfriend with my cousin? you're a leech!”

your poor cousin was mortified, trying to reason with her mom and make her shut up, but she jumped up with angry eyes.

“you dare call me annoying AND shameless?”

before things could escalate further, zayne stood in front of you, his tall frame protecting you from her malicious gaze and her stupid words.

he didn't raise his voice, but his gaze turned stern.

he couldn't believe a woman her age could act so childish, but here he was, about to lecture her.

“that is enough,” he said, staring directly at her.

she scoffed, shaking her head.

“i will decide when to shut u—!”

“i said enough,” he repeated, standing his ground. “you have made this night unbearable, and not only for us, but for your daughter as well.”

your cousin looked away, but she didn't disagree with what he said.

“you parade your daughter around like a trophy while ignoring how uncomfortable she is. you belittle my partner, compare them, and insult them. you do not know when to stop, and no one tries to stop you either.”

he looked around the table at your ashamed relatives before focusing on you with a softened expression.

he always wanted to be around lots of family to share and learn, but all he's learned so far is how abusive your aunt is, and how your family's silence enables her even more.

your cousin mouthed a small apology, which you accepted, before meeting zayne's gaze.

he didn't have to tell you anything for you to know he was ready to leave, and you followed, ignoring your aunt's scoffing and whispered comments.

zayne turned to her one more time, his eyes cold.

“i pity your stupidity,” he said before addressing your family. “apologies for the interruption; do enjoy the rest of the evening.”

and with that, you both headed to his car.

before he could start apologizing for ruining the night, you hugged him tight.

no matter how many times you tried defending yourself, you were either silenced or met with a cold glare.

it felt good to have someone defending you like that, and putting people in their place.

zayne would try to make it up by cooking something at home, but he would focus first on taking away all the remaining hurtful words your brain probably still remembered from other gatherings, until you found your confidence to speak up again, in case he wasn't there to help you.

breakfast with robby. michael robinavitch. mike, you've heard dennis call him once or twice before. there's something about it that's making you nervous, that's making you feel like you did back when your daddy would catch you sneaking out when you were a teenager.

a disapproving father, ready to give his daughter a lecture. you swallow thickly and follow after him.

"thought you'd be at work," you say honestly as you slip into the seat. at the kitchen table

standing at the stove, robby shakes his head. "dennis is, but i'm not."

you nod and straighten out the place mat in front of you. "even attendings get a day off," you mutter and he nods. you look at him, brows furrowed as you think. "when does jack get a night off?"

and robby pauses. egg ready to crack against the side of the pan but he's still. he turns to you, looking every bit the disappointed father. you get it, you get why your brother is so attracted to this man that is so much older than the both of you. this man that looks like he could rock your world and give you a lecture all at once.

and it's almost like jack, just different. he'll rock your world, but he won't give you a lecture. he'll take care of you instead.

your tastes differ, but not by much.

"that's what i wanted to talk to you about," he says and finally cracks the egg. it hits the hot pan with a sizzle.

he doesn't turn to you, doesn't look you in he eye and tell you what he wants to tell you. maybe that was the point of the breakfast, to distract himself from having to look at you when he says what he needs to say. you wouldn't call him a coward, not for the work he does every day, but you wish he'd just look at you and say it.

"you can just come out with it," you tell him, picking at the skin around your nails. your nails themselves were now perfect, painted carefully while jack was on his night shift. "whatever you want to say, just say it."

and, honestly, it takes robby by surprise. you don't hold back, don't pull any punches. there's a reason jack likes you.

"okay," he says and turns the stove off. he walks around the breakfast bar and and pulls out a seat at the table. he sits opposite you and clasps his hands together like this is some kind of work meeting. how many residents have seen him like this, all serious and such?

"you and doctor abbot," he begins and you roll your eyes.

"jack," you answer.

robby gives you a look. because you're being ridiculous and, by the way you've fixed him with a smirk, you know it. "you and jack," he continues and you nod, satisfied with the change. "do you know what you're doing there?"

he sees the change in you, the way you fold your arms over your chest and fix him with a glare that is downright nasty. "do you know what you're doing with my brother?" you spit, venom in your voice.

robby shakes his head. "i'm going to marry your brother," he says. you roll your eyes and robby releases a breath. the petulant child being scolded by the parent. and he's not that much older than your - than whatever jack is.

"your brother and I have been together for a while now," he says, ignoring whatever shitty response you're waiting to let loose. "we're marrying each other because we feel ready for it. but what you've got going on with jack is-"

"Is what?" you're like a poked bear, standing up, ready to swipe your claws across his chest.

robby sucks in another breath and runs his hand over his face. "he's not seen anybody seriously since his wife died." he says it slowly, like you need some time to think.

just like he thought you would, you sit back. "is he seeing me seriously?" you ask, your voice finally small. and robby regrets it instantly. "or, what is this? should i just pack up and go back to nebraska and forget all about this?"

you're back to picking at your nails. "I didn't mean it like that," robby says and shakes his head. "i've not seen jack like this in a long time," he continues, playing with the ring on his finger, the one he'd one day soon exchange for a wedding ring.

you're looking up at him with wet lashes. and, fuck, robby feels horrible. "is that a good thing or a bad thing?" you ask, putting your nail between your teeth. not to bite down and rip off, but just to chew on the perfect paintwork.

robby reaches across the table and pulls your hand away from your mouth. he sees it then and only then, but probably because you didn't let him see it before. you're scared, terrified of whatever this is you've got with jack. you blink you watery lashes and the tears fall. "I don't know if i'm making a mistake here, robby. i mean, what if this isn't forever? what if i leave home, move out here and it isn't forever?"

you wipe away the tears but you don't sit there and sob. robby stands and walks around the table. he drags the chair on the end behind him and sits next to you, his hand on your back. "it might not be forever," he says honestly. more tears, but you're still not sobbing. "and, if you think it's gonna be forever and it doesn't end up being forever, you've always got a room here?"

your hand wipes at your nose as you sniffle. "thanks," you say and wipe under your eyes. "you'd let me stay even though jack's your friend?" you ask him.

robby lets out a gentle laugh and nods. "you're family, kid," he says and stands. "i'm gonna make you something to eat and then you can disappear upstairs." he puts the chair back at the end of the table, steps around the breakfast nook and returns to the stove.

"robby?" you call as he flips the egg. he hums, turning his body only slightly towards you. "you'll be a good dad," you tell him.

there's nobody that can steal the smile from his face after that.

***

the text message sits on your phone, ready to be sent. but you don't press send, leave it there, waiting.

a younger man would call you needy. a man sure about you would soothe your worries. but you're not sure where you stand with jack, whether this message will send him running for the hills.

it would just be awkward after that, at the wedding, pretending you weren't so briefly in love with him at one point that you were willing to leave your life in nebraska behind to be with him.

you: are we something serious?

no, no, no. it's all wrong. you backspace it and retype it, something less desperate and needy.

you: just wondering what we are :)

you: it's fine if we're nothing

you: just wondering

there. perfect. it's too late anyway, you've already sent them. you've already sent them and now jack is gonna think you're needy and now he's not gonna reply to you and now you're never gonna see him again except for awkward interactions where him working with your brother and his future husband forces you to interact.

you throw your phone to the end of your bed and scream into the pillow.

and then there's every other possibility. that he'll think you don't want something serious with him. that you're sending that message because you want to pull back and you want him to pull back, too.

you scramble for the phone. maybe you can just delete the messages and he never has to see them and you can go back to normal.

your fingers fly over the number the number pad and you unlock your phone. you're frantic, trying to get to your messages.

read

fuck! you throw you phone back to the other end of the bed. read but not replied to. you scream into the pillow again.

from the end of the bed, your phone vibrates. you stare at it, terrified. this is it. this is the i don't think we should see each other again call. this is the it's been fun, but i need someone older call.

you hold the pillow against your chest and watch it. his picture fills your phone screen, his 'readers' on his face as he squints at the camera like he can't really see. the thought of not seeing that anymore breaks your heart, snaps it in two and leaves you bleeding on the floor.

your phone rings until it can ring no more. the screen goes black, jack's face disappearing from view. you cry, full sobs that you held back earlier. tears rolling down your cheeks, makeup a mess.

your phone lights up again. a quick ping!, a text message coming through. you double tap the screen until you can see it in full.

jack: pick up the phone

jack: sweetheart

jack: i'm being serious

you wipe your nose on the pillow and unlock your phone. you're already on his contact, already reading his messages. you press the call button by his contact picture, put it on speaker and wait.

jack picks up almost instantly. and for an instant, you say nothing. just the sounds of your sniffling. "sweetheart," he says and you sob.

such a lovely nickname for something so fleeting.

"hi," you manage. it's wet and gross and you know he can tell you've been crying.

"what's going on, sweet girl?" jack asks immediately. you almost crumble. "what were those texts about?"

you wipe away your tees and draw in a shaking breath. you can do this. you can do this. "just thinking," you answer, breath shaking and lip wobbling. a nothing answer and you know it.

"you don't want to be something serious?" he asks.

and you're crying all over again. not because of his question, but the thought of not being something serious might tear you apart. tear you apart and then you'll have to go to PTMC and have to see him all over again when he comes in for his night shift.

"talk to me, sweetheart. i can't fix it unless you talk to me."

the phone rests on the pillow in your lap. you pick it up, as if that'll somehow make you feel better. it doesn't. "do you want to be something serious?" you're not sure if he can ever understand you with how unsure you sound.

he pauses. fuck, this is exactly what you're afraid of, exactly why you didn't want to ask him.

"is that what this is about, sweetheart? you were literally riding me this morning."

a fact, but it doesn't answer your question. "jack," you push.

"this is something serious," he answers, his voice sure. you're entirely jealous of the feeling. "sweetheart, this has always been something serious. we don't have to keep it serious, if you don't want to-"

"no!" you say quickly, your heart beating so damn fast.

another pause. another reason for you to cry. "that's it," he says in that low voice that sends a thrill down your spine. "good girl. you gonna be okay while i drive over?"

there's a small part of you that hates yourself for crying some more. but he's so fucking good. he's so good and he wants something serious with you. of course you're gonna start sobbing.

"but robby's here," you manange, your cheeks entirely damp.

"breathe for me, sweetheart. i'll be there soon."

"but robby," you say again.

"don't worry about it, okay? i'll be there soon."

"okay," you answer. no goodbyes, not yet. you don't think you can emotionally handle that.

jack hangs up and you jump from the bed. leaving your phone discarded. you grab your makeup wipes from the dresser and clean up your face. no makeup, no more tears. you free your hair from the tie and head downstairs.

robby sits on the sofa, another cup of coffee. you wonder just how many he consumes in a day, how many cups he needs to get through the day shift. of course that translates to home; he'd probably crash without it.

his head turns slightly as you walk into the room. you feel like a child asking for parent's permission to have a friend over. "robby," you call, your hand on the door frame.

he hums and turns his head fully, looking at you over the back of the sofa. you don't want to shrink, you want to talk to him adult to adult. but this entire thing has left you fragile and needing comfort. comfort that was on his way (you should have told him to grab snacks).

"jack's coming over," you tell him. robby's eyebrows go up. "i asked him something stupid and got a little upset so he's on his way." you tighten your grip on the door frame. "is that okay?"

robby laughs. just a small laugh, not one that has his full body shaking. "yeah, that's fine," he says.

you release a breath and look around, look at what he's watching on the tv. something mindless, something you're sure you've turned off when you've gotten the remote away from your brother before. you step around the sofa and sink into the armchair, joining him.

you sit there in silence, no need for any words. every few moments, you glance at the window, hope to see his car pulling up. it's a good few minutes, minutes full of doubt (minutes where you're hoping he's read your mind and is stopping for snacks).

but the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. he was in bed, without his leg. he had to get up, get dressed, put his leg on and get in the car. you relax into the armchair, waiting for him. you'll wait as patiently as you have to.

his car pulls up. you're out of the armchair before he's parked, running towards the front door. you yank it open and run out before you can stop yourself, before you can pull your shoes on and collect yourself.

jack climbs out of his car. you're running, calling his name. he turns, pushes the door shut just in time to catch you in his arms. "fuck, sweet girl," he whispers as you wrap your arms around him, standing on your tiptoes.

you just kiss him. arms around his neck, you press your lips to his. slowly, gently, the sweetest kiss the two of you have ever shared, you think. "jack," you say, your lips still against his. you don't want to pull away, not while he's here in your arms. "we're something serious," you whisper.

he nods, pressing his forehead against you're own. "we're something serious," he repeats, solidifying it for you. you're serious with doctor jack abbot. . you're something serious with doctor jack abbot.

he pulls away slightly, takes you in. "you're not wearing shoes," he says and you hum, kissing him again.

"i really wanted to see you," you answer.

his laugh is so damn loving. this is a man that loves you, even if you haven't said it to each other yet. and you know he loves you because you're something serious. "come on," he says and taps your ass. "jump."

you do, wrapping your legs around him. part of you wants to moan, to make some disgusting comment. right here? up against the car, doctor abbot? but you bite your lip and let him carry you away. "this might be really awkward," you tell him as he carries you towards robby and your brother's house. "robby's taking this whole big brother-in-law thing very seriously."

jack hums, but he's still smiling as he carries you. "should have thought about that before you came running outside with no shoes on," he says. you kiss him again. and again.

he carries you into the house, nudging the door shut with his hip. "can i put you down yet?" he asks, every couple of words muffled as you keep kissing him.

"no," you say without much thought.

jack puts you down anyway. "c'mon," he says, spinning you around. "let me go say hello to robby."

you let him go. reluctantly, keeping your hand in his. jack leads you into the sitting room. he stands behind the sofa, looking down at his friend. his close friend, though you wouldn't be able to tell from the way jack is looking at him.

"robby," he says, squeezing your hand.

robby turns his head, looks at his friend. "abbot," he says, but there's no venom in his voice, no venom in either of their voices.

jack walks towards the armchair. for a moment, you think he's gonna sit down and pull you into his lap. but he doesn't. "why don't you go and make us some coffees, sweetheart," he says and taps your ass, sending you on your way.

you turn to robby. "you want another?" you offer and he nods. you turn your attention to jack. "are you having a coffee or do you wanna nap after this?" you ask, hyper aware that you've potentially pulled him out of sleep.

jack kisses your hair. "yeah, sweetheart," he says and lets go of your hand. "i'll take a coffee."

you get the message, loud and clear. give me a minute while i talk to robby. you take robby's empty mug from him and disappear into the kitchen.

jack sinks into the armchair. "my girl sent me some weird texts today," he begins, rolling his trouser leg up to take off his prosthetic. "you know anything about that?"

robby glances towards the kitchen. "we had a little talk, brother. that was all."

jack furrows his brows. "she was crying, robby. you made my girl cry."

a breath leaves robby's lips and he leads forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "i was making sure you're good enough for her," robby confesses. "she's family now, jack. gotta make sure you're treating her right."

jack lets himself smile. you've got people looking out for you, people you can run to when he's not there. "this is something real, robby," he says. "i'm gonna treat her right."

robby settles deeper into the sofa. "you better, brother," he says and tips his head back against the sofa cushion.

you come into the room then, managing to hold three cups in two hands. holding the handles, keeping the mugs together. jack takes two of them from you and you pass the last one to robby.

"thank you, sweetheart," jack says as you walk back over to him. you take your too sweet coffee from his hand and sit on the arm of the sofa. not quite on his lap, but close enough that jack can wrap his arm around you.

"were you two being nice?" you ask them and sip your drink.

they look at each other. "we're always nice," jack answers and robby nods in agreement. "told robby how serious i am about you."

your cheeks are hot as you turn to him. "because we're something serious," you say and jack squeezes your hip.

you're something serious with jack abbot. you're something serious with jack abbot! you sit there happy with your future brother in law, your boyfriend (boyfriend!), waiting for your brother to come home.

this is happiness.

this looks like the end but it isn't! i have so much more planned for hucklebaby and her man

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@straykids1011

The sound of camera clicking, someone running to fix the hair of the model, another one shouting about a damn snack, the lights of the shutter almost blinding, but Y/N's focus was on her subject.

She's currently in the middle of a photoshoot for a magazine. One might wonder if she's the model, no, she's the professional photographer, dubbed as one of the best in the industry despite of her young age. She loves what she does.

"Alright, that is a wrap! Thank you so much, everyone!" Y/N shouted with a smile, wrapping up the photoshoot before walking to her model.

"Thank you so so much, I know you've been busy and your schedule is toxic but thank you for doing this." Y/N said gratefully.

"What are you talking about? I should be the one thanking you! I've been dying to work with you but you're all booked and busy." Julia, her friend and model, tapped her shoulder with a teasing smile.

The two of them talked for a little while before Julia bid her goodbye. It was a nice day, a wonderful day, even.

Until it wasn't.

Y/N was on her way back to her place when her phone screen popped. It was a message, from someone she didn't know would text her. It has been so long since then. She hid herself so well that she was sure none of the others would find her.

That's not the case.

In the message it read 'Tito Godfrey' with an arm flex emoji. It says, "She's here and she wants to meet you. What do I tell her?"

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Y/N has been inside her car for a good 30 minutes now. She's pulled up at the side of the road after she read the message. She was not sure what to do or what to say or if she should reply or just simply ignore. Her mind is racing 200 kpm and it's not helping that her phone won't stop buzzing. And so she did it, the one thing she hasn't done in so long.

She turned her phone off.

Everyone who knows Y/N knows that if she's out of reach, there's a high tendency that she's gonna be M.I.A for the next couple of weeks, months, or even years for that matter. She loves to shut down and go somewhere no one would find her. And right now, a certain cousin is scrambling to look for his keys to try and find her.

"Where the fuck is it?!" Dominic, Y/N's older cousin, shouted as he tried to look for his keys.

It has come to his attention that Y/N's supposed to be at a family dinner but she did not come and it's rare for her not to come. He was also informed that Y/N's phone is turned off so no one really knows where she is.

And one thing's for sure, Dominic is the only one who knows what's gonna happen next if he doesn't find his cousin right at this very moment.

So he drove, and drove, and went to places, and drove again but it's been hours. He was losing hope. Until something popped up in his mind. Some place somewhere far away from Manila that has been dubbed by Y/N as sacred. A place she goes to when everything gets heavy, Batangas.

Dominic drove 2 and a half hours to get there. And thankfully, she was there. Just sitting in one of the duyans that were hang on the trees. Just staring on the ground.

She looked lifeless.

Like the air was punched out of her system.

Like her heart stopped beating and this is just a cocoon of what she once was.

Dominic sighed. This was like 4 years ago. A flashback to the most heart breaking years of his life, watching his cousin's life fall apart.

"Hey, what are we doing here?" he asked, sitting in one of the chairs that were propped in front of the duyan.

Y/N flinched a little, looking at her cousin with wide eyes, her breath hitched thinking that it was someone else.

She stared, for a moment.

Dominic waited for her to speak, to lay it all out. Then it came, three words. And he knows this is going to be a hell of a week, maybe a month, maybe years.

"She's back home."

Dominic didn't quite understand it at first. Sophia has been in and out of the country since she got back a year ago with her group for their album promotion. She was here during the holidays, she was here during her birthday, heck she was even here this Valentine's day.

But then it hit him. Everytime Sophia's back home, Y/N would be out of the country for a photoshoot or vacation or just being out there.

So basically, this would be the first time that Sophia's back, and Y/N's home.

4 years. That's 4 years of not seeing each other. 4 years of no communication. 4 years of hiding.

And now, Y/N has no excuse. She couldn't run away, couldn't hide.

"Tito Godfrey just texted me. Said they have a charity event tomorrow. Said he wanted me to be present since I've always been there."

Dominic sighed, for the umpteenth time. "Are you going?"

Y/N lifted her head, looking at him with the deadest eye he's seen her give.

She nodded.

And just like that, Dominic knows she's going to be that person again.

The Greatest Pretender.

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Y/N was busy helping the family carry the boxes that they're going to distribute for the charity. It was a small event that Sophia has told her father before she came back. So here they are, hauling the boxes of goods that are going to be given to the people.

"Y/N anak, I'm so glad you could come. Your Tito Godfrey thought you'd be sitting this one down because you didn't answer his text last night. You know he was so sad?" Carla, Sophia's mom said, after Y/N put the last box on the truck they hired for today.

Y/N chuckled, hugging her tita Carla tightly despite the sweat. They were that comfortable.

"You know I can never say no to that husband of yours. He's too clingy and I fear he'd combust if I say no to him." Y/N joked after she pulled away from the hug.

Y/N joked around with the family despite her emotions. She's just that good. But one thing's for sure, she hasn't laid her eyes on Sophia since she came. She hasn't even given the Katseye leader a chance to get close to her. She'd always be doing something, talking to someone, running from here and there just so she could stay away.

And that did not go unnoticed by Sophia.

When they got the venue where the charity is going to be held, Y/N immediately went to work. She carried boxes, instructed the helpers, talked to organizers that the Lafortezas reached out to. She made herself busy with everything that she did not notice someone came.

Someone she knows would help her stay far away from the very person she's avoiding.

"I didn't know he was coming." She heard Basil from beside her, his eyebrows furrowed and his voice deeper than usual.

Y/N raised a brow, using her shirt as a fan.

"Why? Don't you want him here?" she chuckled, wiping her sweat from her forehead and the back of her neck.

"I don't want you feeling uncomfortable. You're my best friend." he said seriously, looking at her like he knows it. Like he knows everything.

Y/N chuckled again, shaking her head lightly.

"It's cool. I'm glad he's here though. Takes something out of my plate for once." She said and Basil knows exactly what she meant.

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The charity event was exhausting. Because not only did Y/N helped with giving the goods, she also played with the kids. She ran and jumped and played like there was no tomorrow. Carla was so worried she'd pass out from exhaustion. But that's not Y/N. She loves kids, she loves playing with them, telling stories and taking pictures. She would never be tired of kids.

The Lafortezas invited Y/N for dinner that night. She couldn't say no again. She could never say no especially when Oreo was tugging her sleeve like the little brother he is.

"At least let me go home first and change." she said, finally giving in to the younger guy.

"Kuya Basil! You should go with her in case she dips again!" Oreo told his older brother who just gave him a look.

"I won't dip, I promise. I don't have anything coming up today, so I promise I'll be at dinner." she said, going down to Oreo's level and lifting her pinky finger.

It's their thing. It was something she did with someone in the past and now, she's doing it with Oreo.

That sealed the deal for the youngest, he lifted his pinky and wrapped it with hers. He knows she would never break that promise. Because it's rare for her to do that.

Sophia watched the entire interaction with a soft gaze. She remembered that gesture, something they've done since they were kids, something Y/N introduced to her years ago.

"You okay?" Sophia heard from beside her, pulling her back to her senses. She almost forgot Leon was there.

She turned to him and smiled, nodding lightly.

"Thanks for coming today, it means a lot." she said sweetly, smiling at him.

He smiled back, ruffling her head lightly. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Unbeknownst to them, Y/N's watching them with a pained gaze. She did not mean to. One minute she was playing with Oreo, the next thing she was standing beside her big bike, staring at them, watching them as if it was a movie.

She could feel her heart crack with every interaction, with every smile Sophia gives him, every laugh, every playful slap, every time he touches her.

She thought she was over it. She mentally told herself it was years ago. That she's okay now, that she's moved past it. But she's not. Seeing as how Sophia's so comfortable with Leon, how her laugh bursts in the open with him. She knows she's done for.

She knows she wasn't over it. Not now, not tomorrow, and maybe not ever.

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That night, Y/N made sure to stay far away from Sophia. Leon was there too so it helped. Sophia's attention was on him so she did not think Sophia would have the time to sneak away and talk to her.

That's where she was wrong.

Because right now, while she's busy have a smoke out the backyard, she heard a voice behind her. Something familiar, something sweet, something she's always known.

"You smoke?"

Y/N panicked a little, waving the smoke with her hand, pleading that it won't be enhaled by the person walking towards her.

When she turned around, she saw the look on Sophia's face, like recognizing. Her brows are furrowed, she looked confused and at the same time shocked.

Y/N cleared her throat, hiding the device on her pocket before looking up at the girl in front of her again.

"What are you doing here? Malamig." Y/N said, taking her jacket off and draping it on Sophia's shoulders, making sure she wasn't touching.

"You suddenly disappeared, I thought you went home."

That voice. That damn voice. Sweet, gentle. Y/N hated that voice. She used to love it. She used to long to hear it. But right now, it's breaking her. Making her want to dash off, far from here, far from Sophia.

Y/N smiled. Not the same smile Sophia knows. It's somethig different, like everything about Y/N now.

"Wouldn't go without saying goodbye. I'm not that type of person, you know me."

But Sophia shook her head, making Y/N furrow her brows.

"Before..." Sophia said, softly. "I know you before. Not this one though. I'm not familiar with her."

That stopped Y/N on her track. She knows Sophia's observant. That's why she was great at hiding things, cause she didn't want Sophia to see. But this time, she wondered if she slipped, because she's sure as hell she's her usual self when around people.

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head as she put her hands inside her pocket.

"You're over thinking it, Sophia. Relax." She tried but Sophia wasn't having it.

The leader was supposed to say something when they heard Leon calling for her. Y/N thanked all the Gods she could thank because she's not ready to for this.

"Oh, Y/N hey." he greeted, putting his arm around Sophia's shoulders.

Y/N nodded, giving him a smile.

"Take your girl inside. It's a bit chilly tonight."

Leon looked at Sophia who turned to him with a small smile.

"Come on, your parents are looking for you inside." he said and was about to pull Sophia with him but she stopped him.

"They're not looking for her?" she asked softly, looking up at Leon who furrowed his brows before glancing at Y/N who's just standing there, watching in amusement.

"They know I'm here. I excused myself." Y/N answered instead, shrugging.

"And they also know you smoke?" Sophia asked, turning to her with a look Y/N knows too well.

Y/N nodded, like it's supposed to be something Sophia knows. "That's why I'm here. Ang kapal naman ng mukha ko kung hihithit ako dito na hindi nila alam." [I would've been so shameful if I smoke here without them knowing.]

Sophia just stared. She doesn't know what to say. It's like she's looking at someone different. It's like everything changed and she knows change is inevitable but she hates it. This isn't the change she wants.

"Hey, what's going on here?" they heard, then there's Basil, walking towards them and stopping just beside Y/N who was thanking the heavens quietly.

"You know she smokes?" Sophia asked her brother with a hint of something. She's upset, Y/N knows it. Y/N could read Sophia to the core.

"Yes, so?" Basil answered, raising a brow.

Sophia opened her mouth to say something but Y/N jumped before this gets out of hand.

"Let it go, Sophia. Go inside. Leon, please." Y/N said, stepping in.

Leon nodded and was about to pull Sophia again but she did not let him. She just raised a hand to stop him. And for the love of all that's holy, he lets her.

"What's going on here?" Sophia asked, voice laced with something Y/N knew all too well.

She's mad.

So, before Y/N could stop herself, she walked towards Sophia and held her face, making the leader face her. She gave Sophia a smile, the kind of smile that's only reserved for Sophia, and Sophia alone.

"Let it go. Go inside first. Then we'll talk later." Y/N said softly.

Sophia's eyes soften at the way Y/N's gently caressing her cheek, at the way she's smiling at her. And so finally, she gave in.

Sophia nodded. "Okay." and lets Leon pull her inside with him.

When Y/N was sure both Leon and Sophia are inside, she finally let out a breath of relief. She's been holding that for a while, she thought she was going to die.

"What the hell was that?"

Y/N turned to Basil who shrugged. "It's weird that she's suddenly worried now when she just left you all those years ago. Now she wants to act all mad and upset that you've changed."

Y/N brushed a hand to her face. She's grateful to have Basil save her from being roasted by Sophia, and she's grateful for being his best friend but sometimes, she just wants to strangle him.

"That is your sister!" Y/N exclaimed, just in case Basil forget.

"Well yeah, that's my sister who's acting like she did not just leave her so called best friend without saying a word."

Y/N groaned in frustration. Sometimes, Y/N wished Basil would just let it go. Because clearly, he's the one who's more upset about Sophia leaving her with nothing.

"Dude, come on. You can't be that mad at her. Maybe she's got some sort of excuse why she did it. Let her breath."

"Yeah, keep making excuses for her. Let's go." Basil said before he went back inside.

Y/N sighed in defeat.

"This is going to be a long week."

              ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The talk Y/N told Sophia in fact, did not happen at all. She wasn't ready to talk about whatever with Sophia yet. And so, she made an excuse that night about Dominic needing her and fleed the scene without explanation.

And right now, she's being bombarded with texts from Sophia, dms and all that jizz. Sophia even went as far as calling her. SHE'S CALLED HER 10 TIMES TODAY AND IT'S NOT EVEN 12PM!

And so when her phone buzzed with another call from Sophia, Dominic stepped in and answered instead. Y/N tried to stop him but he gave her that look. The look that says, 'I'm older than you, respect.'

Y/N sighed, slumping down on the chair she was sitting on.

Dominic answered the phone with a soft hello.

"Yeah, it's Dominic, what's up?... Oh, that's too bad. We have plans today... Yeah, I'm sorry... I'll tell her you called... Bye." then he hung up.

"The hell was that?" Y/N asked, taking the phone from Dominic's hand.

"She's asking if you were busy. She was planning on inviting you to enchanted kingdom with her family."

Y/N nodded, silently thanking Dominic for making an excuse.

Just then, her phone buzzed. It was text. Not from Sophia, but from Basil.

[Tell Dominic I owe him one. Leon's with us again.]

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. Basil really has something against Leon.

"What?" Dominic asked softly.

"Basil said he owes you one. Leon's with them."

Dom chuckled as well. "Well damn, he's really taking his shot, huh?"

Y/N didn't answer, just drank her coffee and continued reading her book.

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That night, Y/N was just chilling with herself when she suddenly heard the doorbell ring. She wasn't expecting someone. And if it's Dominic, he knows her code so he could just barge in anytime

So it was a suprise to her when she saw Sophia standing there. Smiling shyly. Wearing a hoodie that looked so familiar.

"Hey." She greeted, waving a hand cutely.

Y/N caught herself staring, before mentally slapping herself to get back to her senses.

"Hey. What are you doing here? Did you drive here?" Y/N asked, not in a rude manner, but in a shocked way.

Sophia shook her head. "Dad drove me here. I asked him."

Y/N nodded, opening the door wider so Sophia could come inside.

"Do you want anything? Drinks?" Y/N asked when Sophia sat down on the couch, she looked a bit nervous.

"Soda is fine." she answered, smiling shyly

Y/N nodded before she went to the fridge, pulling a can of soda and a beer for herself. She needs this.

"Here." she says, handing Sophia the canned soda before she sat on the single couch, opening the beer she's holding.

"What's up?" she finally asked after sipping.

She's so confused right now. Her heart is beating so hard, she was afraid it would jump out of her body. She's not expecting this.

But here it is.

Sophia played with the canned soda in her hands, seemingly out of words on why she's here.

Y/N watched, how she sits so straight, how she's fidgeting with the canned soda, how she couldn't seem to stay still.

"What's wrong?" Y/N asked again, softer this time.

Sophia looked up at her, eyes holding all the feelings she wants to say. And Y/N completely understood. Sophia didn't have to say anything.

Y/N sighed, standing up from where she was seated to sit beside Sophia but making sure there's enough space between them.

"What's happening? There's got to be a reason why you're here." Y/N tried again.

This time, it seemed Sophia finally found the courage to speak. She put the canned soda down on the coffee table and faced Y/N, her eyes soft.

She took a deep breath before speaking.

"I don't know." she started. "I don't know why I asked dad to bring me here. I don't know what I want. I just... I wanted to see you."

Y/N gave out a small smile at Sophia's confession.

"You could've just called me. I would've went to your place instead." Y/N said, smiling at Sophia who shook her head.

"You wouldn't. I know you wouldn't. You're saying you're gonna be there but you won't."

Y/N furrowed her brows. There's something going on here that she's not quite sure of yet.

"What do you mean?"

Sophia stared at her, looking, recognizing.

"You're different now. You're not the same person I know all those years ago. You seem so... distant. So far away." Sophia said, her voice shaking, like she wanted to cry but no tears would spill.

This is it, this is the talk. And Y/N isn't sure if she's ready. But there's no going back. She couldn't escape.

Y/N stared. She let the moment stay for a while. Then she let out a ridiculous laugh, something Sophia hasn't heard before. Something new.

Y/N stood up, walking a bit before she turned to Sophia with an amused look.

"You can't expect me to be same person 4 years ago, Sophia. Change is inevitable. You've changed too but you don't hear me saying anything about it." She say, not mad, not upset, just in disbelief.

Sophia finally stood up too, looking at Y/N with such gentleness despite the frustration she's feeling.

"What happened to you?" Sophia asked, tears brimming on the side of her eyes.

And there it is, the question Y/N's so afraid to be asked. Because she doesn't know if she could hold it in.

She stared at Sophia, trying to hold herself back but there's like a switch that clicked itself on and suddenly it's out.

"You don't get to ask. You left remember? Without a word. Not even a text saying you're flying somewhere." Y/N said, letting it out. She was not expecting that this conversation would happen here, right at this very moment.

Sophia was taken aback. But, she also understands where Y/N was coming from. Her gaze soften at Y/N's answer.