#atpsnty

“I don’t even understand why you're being all grumpy right now,” you sigh as you trail behind your bestfriend. 

You’re just leaving the Weathervane café and following Xavier towards the woods, meaning you’re probably heading to his little art shack. Everything was going as it usually does – you guys laughing and catching up over your separate drinks – when he suddenly got really quiet and wanted to leave.

“Can you at least tell me what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence anymore, seeming to be in his own head right now.

You glance at his back, his usually tall stature now hunched in on itself. He keeps running his hand through his hair as it falls in his face, which is when you notice that he’s missing the black hair tie that usually sits on his wrist.

Putting a little pep in your step to get beside him, you hold out your own wrist. Upon it lays a hair tie; the same black type that he usually keeps for himself. You started carrying them after noticing how often he sets them down beside him, only to forget doing so and abandoning them altogether.

He halts his movements before glancing at the band adorning your wrist. He stares at it for a few seconds before his gaze trails up at your face, where he stares at you for a few more. 

You guys are always comfortable around each other, you’ve been friends for a while now, so eye contact is not something you struggle with…but there was something different about the way he is currently looking at you. Like he’s analyzing you. Studying you. Looking past what lays upon your expression and trying to survey your thoughts.

You try to hold his stare, but after a bit your face starts to heat up and the moment feels way too intense, so you divert your gaze to your shoes, the tips almost touching the tips of his own.

You hear the soft sigh fall from his lips before you see his retreating steps. After a few seconds, you fall back in line, trailing behind him once again.

–

After a few more silent minutes, you reach his art studio. He opens the door for you, though still not looking at you directly, before walking in himself. He immediately finds his closest pencil and sketchbook, making little to no sounds as he sits at his desk and begins scribbling away.

You sit on the stool that accompanies a large painting canvas and watch as he frustratingly works the pencil into the paper, smudging lead with his fingers in an unrecognizable design.

After a while, the silence is almost too much to bear.

“Seriously Xavier, what is wrong with you?”

“Everything apparently,” he said abruptly while slamming down his pencil on the multi-color covered table top, “enough to not even be an option anymore.”

You squint at him, completely distraught by his sudden outburst.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” 

Completely lost about where this attitude even came from, you run back the conversation you were having back at Weathervane: your wellbeing, school, an upcoming dance, the guy who asked you to said upcoming dance…

Bingo.

“Are you mad about me getting asked to a school dance?” You questioned, a hint of accusation to your voice. 

“Yes, okay! I’m mad you got asked to your little dance at normie school!” Xavier exclaimed, standing up and looking down at you. 

It takes all but two seconds before you're standing as well, mixed emotions of confusion and anger boiling inside you.

“Why would you be fucking upset! If anything you should be happy that your best friend is actually liked by someone for once.” You said in an exasperated tone. Why would your closest friend be upset about you finally getting attention from someone…unless he thinks you don’t deserve it.

“Well I’m not fucking happy.” He says while looking you straight in the eyes before sitting back in his chair, placing his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“Why not?” At this point, anything he said would probably end with you in tears, your heart broken, or both.

“Because I wanted to take you,” he says in a soft voice before running both hands through his hair and turning to face you. “Because I want to take you,” he reiterates. 

You gape at him, eyes and lips slightly widened as you find the words to say. 

To be honest, you have had feelings for Xavier for a while. When you first saw him, you thought he was an attractive guy. His long hair compliments his face so well, who wouldn’t? But it wasn’t until you started connecting that your feelings for him truly blossomed. You loved his artsy side, he was always surprising you with drawings and paintings he made of you, alongside ones he made simply to impress you with his “bring drawings to life” ability. He was always there to cheer you up if something was upsetting you at school, and he would constantly call or text you to see how you’re doing.

After all that gaping, the only thing you could think to say was “why would you want to do that?”

He gave a small chuckle-ish sigh before replying, “have I not been obvious, because I swear everyone else could see how much I like you except you.”

Thinking back at it now, yeah the man was super obvious, but that doesn’t mean you actually believe it..

“Seriously, Y/N. I know I’m being super obvious in my flirting tactics, but that’s just because I think you like me back. I mean obviously not if you’re going to a dance with someone else, but I-”

“Who said I’m going with somebody else?” You cut him off mid rant.

“The guy-.”

“If you would’ve actually let me finish my story instead of getting all jealous and gloomy, you would have heard me say that I didn’t even say yes.” You look at him with a slight smirk. “Matter of fact, I don’t think I even like anyone fro-”

“I knew it.”

“From my school. Xavier you seriously need to let a girl finish her storytimes,” you shake your head and softly laugh before looking back up at him.

The smile you’ve come to adore is finally resting upon his face once again.

“So…you want to take me to the dance,” you tease.

“I do,” he says as if it’s a simple fact.

“Are you gonna ask or…? Because I’ve got other options to weigh if this is gonna take all da-.”

He rushes towards you and envelopes you in a hug, though this one feels different than the ones you usually share.

“Would you allow me the great honor of taking you to your normie school dance?” He finishes as he sets you back upright and grazes his thumb over your cheek.

“I would love to go,” you smile up at him, leaning into his touch slightly.

“With me though, right? The other dudes are completely out of the picture?”

“Only with you,” you giggle at his playful antics. “Just you.”

Completely ignoring the story, I am currently obsessed with Xavier Thorpe and my close friends list on Instagram has been suffering with edits for days.

Even though you were still a few yards away from actually entering, the area around the fair has 10 different aromas wafting through the air. Flashing lights could be seen in every direction; vibrant colors swatched along every ride and carnival game.

As you enter the fairgrounds, you look around at the people: adults, kids, normies…outcasts. You knew it was likely for them to come, as it is every year, but it’s still a shock to see the so-called “weirdos” of Jericho doing such normal activities.

Regardless, it’s nice to see everyone together for such events. You don’t completely understand the separation between the town. Sure, the outcasts were different, but they were still beings in their own right. They were freaky by nature, but even then you find their freakiness pretty alluring.

You walk around for a bit, grabbing some food as you pass by certain stands, and sit down at an empty picnic bench. As you eat, you watch the people around you as they talk and laugh and play games. You find this particular pair of people interesting.

They’re outcasts.

It’s pretty obvious by the girl’s all black attire and creepy nature, though you wouldn’t be able to tell the boy was one if it weren't for his association with the former. 

You can’t help but analyze their features. The girl is actually really pretty, if you put her gloomy aura aside. Her hair is completely black and straight, a contrast to your own curls, though it’s in pigtails, and you swear you haven’t seen her blink this entire time. She seems like she doesn’t wanna be here, almost like she’s in a rush.

After you’re done looking her over, your eyes drift over to the guy she’s standing with.

He is gorgeous.

His hair is pretty long for a guy, reaching to about his shoulders. He’s currently hunched over, his hands resting on a carnival game table, but you can tell at full height he's freaking tall. He’s wearing a dark gray trench coat, which is extremely simple, yet somehow he looks like a male model and-

‘¡Ay, Dios! I need to stop fangirling over this random boy right now’ you think and avert your eyes, focusing back on your grease filled meal.

After a few minutes, you can’t help but notice the pigtailed girl hurrying away from the stand through your peripheral view, leaving the long-haired boy all alone. You stare at him again, zoning out to the point where you don’t even notice him staring directly back at you.

You snap out of your trance, quickly looking down at the table for a few seconds before slowly creeping your eyes back over, where he is still assessing you.

He gives you a small head tilt and wave, to which you shyly smile back before cleaning up your mess and heading in the opposite direction.

‘I cannot believe I just got caught ogling at a guy like that…por favor mátame.’

–

After the last encounter with the mysterious long-haired outcast, you honestly didn’t expect to see him. He seemed like the type to pop up once and never show his face again.

You wish you were right.

Today, you’re heading into town to study a bit at a local park. You find the scenery relaxing and way less stuffy than working at home.

As you’re settling down on a picnic table, taking all your necessities out of your bag so you can get started, you notice the blue and black stripes of the Nevermore Academy uniform walking into the general store down the street. 

You think nothing of it, focusing back on your materials and figuring a student going into a store is definitely not your business and absolutely none of your concern. 

About 25 minutes into studying, you notice the stripes once more, but this time it seems as though they are walking towards you. As you focus harder on the person’s form, you recognize the tall body and lengthy hair you’ve seen once before.

You look down at the plastic grocery bag he is holding, and though you can’t see its contents from this far, you’re sure it’s not actually groceries and is more along the lines of something music or art related. 

He just gives off that vibe.

You realize that he has stopped venturing towards you. Actually, he’s stopped walking altogether.

Your glance shifts up to his face to find that he has, once again, caught you staring at him like an absolute creep.

You let out a tiny shriek before ducking behind your computer screen. 

‘The universe must hate me or something because oh my god,’ you think, internally panicking once more. You take a small peek past the lit up screen just enough to see him laugh to himself and shake his head before heading towards…the woods?

“I must have killed Mother Teresa in my past life,” you mumble to yourself softly before resuming your studies, “that’s the only possible reason my luck is at negative freaking eighty right now.”

–

Pilgrim World was…grim to say the least. It was mainly a plot to attract tourists and make money for the town. Young kids did always find entertainment in the, probably inaccurate, history of the town, so you guess it’s not all bad.

For the normal townspeople that is. 

The students from Nevermore were forced to work the grounds each year. Yeah…not exactly “town building,” but it was mandatory for them.

You sat at the Weathervane café with your computer and a warm drink. Learning about the same white people every year wasn’t your type of fun – no disrespect to them – so you opt to just watch others from the window seat, maybe get a bit of work done in the process. You watch kids chase each other; families share pieces of fudge; individuals enjoying their beverages while trolling down the center lane. You were so focused on watching others, you completely forgot about your previous, most important task: to watch the entrance.

Not that you just wanted to stare at townsfolk all day, but you were anticipating a certain outcast’s arrival. You wanted to make sure that you could watch the long-haired boy walk in so that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself by randomly staring like you did previously. But with your low attention span and professional ability to zone out at the worst times, you completely missed the fact that just who you were looking for had not only arrived at Pilgrim World already, but had walked into the café minutes ago.

“Do you want me to wipe down your table?”

That was the question that caused you to jolt in surprise, turning your head to meet the mysterious Nevermore boy.

“I wouldn’t want you to get your computer wet. You know, just in case you need to hide behind it again,” he finishes with a small smirk.

"Cielos, me asustaste,” you exclaim, more as an instant response than an actual reply, and giggle a bit while looking at your lap.

You look up at him after doing so, only to find him softly smiling at you. You open and close your mouth a few times before internally taking a deep breath and looking him in the eyes.

“Hopefully I won’t need to hide from anyone any time soon. But yeah, sure.”

You set your computer on the seat beside you as the boy gives the table a few wipes. Funny thing is, the table was completely clean before he wiped it. Even more so since you dusted it off a bit before sitting.

“No more hiding, huh? I like the sound of that,” he remarks. He finishes wiping the invisible mess off of your table and stands straight again. “Do you need a refill?”

You didn’t even notice that your cup was a few sips away from empty.

“Oh uh sure. It’s just hot chocolate,” you smile and he slightly nods before making his way over to the counter.

You start glancing back out the window, though this time there are Nevermore students roaming around in addition to the previous bunch. Some people are outside handing out fudge while in pilgrim costumes. You had to do that one year…it’s as boring as it looks. You notice the gloomy girl you had seen at the carnival enter the Crackstone house down the road. You could have sworn that it was closed off…

A bump on your table causes you to look away from the historical building and down at the cup that has been dropped off. You pick up the cup and take a sip as the long-haired boy walks away to clean off other tables. You glance at the cup holding the warm chocolate, which is when you see the black marker along the side.

‘Xavier…xxx-xxx-xxxx’

‘Oh,’ you thought as you realized what this was. His name…and number. Your whole face felt warm as your eyes searched for the boy, finding him behind the counter already looking at you.

You smile and tip your cup in his direction before taking another sip and going back to staring out the window.

Honestly, I used this as an excuse to gush over Xavier bcs oml there is no reason I should find this man as attractive as I do. Also, possible pt.2 with them getting closer ???

Another question: somebody asked me if I had a taglist for Xavier, so I was just wondering if y’all would want that? 

“Garrett,” you say as you squat down to grab your bag, “I’m not inviting him here.”

“Why not.” You look up to see the hockey player’s tall frame towering over you.

“You know why not.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He crosses his arms and raises his head in innocent manner. “I’m simply offering my oh so beautiful girlfriend a nice and quiet place to work hard. You know how much I care about a good working environment when it comes to education.”

“Mhm sure,” you stand up and sling the bag over your shoulder, “and I’m guessing by ‘quiet place’, you mean that you’re gonna sit on a barstool and stare at the back of Justin’s head until he gets a 3rd degree burn.”

“No...” he wraps his arms around your waist and snuggles his face in the nook of your neck, “I’m going to sit next to you and stare at the front of Justin’s head till he gets a 3rd degree burn.”

You would roll your eyes, but his kisses to your neck feel exactly like home. You lean back against his chest and place your hands on top of his.

“You know if I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re jealous.”

His head retreats from your neck as he gasps long and loud. His arms unwrap from your body and he gently places his hand on his chest in mock hurt.

“Me? Jealous? Why would god’s gift to the mortal world need to be jealous of a football player?” His lips scowl at the end of his sentence. You try to hold in a laugh, but you couldn’t help but giggle a bit.

You place your hands on his shoulders and stand on your tip-toes as he leans down, allowing you to place a soft kiss on his lips before slowing walking backwards towards the door.

“You tell me Mr. Perfect.” You open the door and take one step out before winking and saying, “and tell god I said thank you for the present.” You shut the door right before Garrett realizes that you walked out.

“Wait Y/N you’re coming back to study right?”

For a little while longer, you stare out the window. People watching has always been one of your favorite activities, so you can’t help but analyze the passerby as they make their way across the various Pilgrim World attractions.

You sip your hot chocolate as you do so, your thumb unknowingly running across the numbers that the no longer mystery boy has written along the cup sleeve. You have yet to enter the digits into your phone, signifying the act of adding Xavier into your contact list. You have never seen someone act so bold, yet alone someone you can’t seem to keep your eyes off of.

Does he wanna be friends?

Is he interested in you?

Are you interested in him?

For the next hour or so you interchange these actions: gazing outside, doing a bit of homework, and trying your fucking best not to stare at Xavier as he dances around your table, wiping off other surfaces and interacting with the flow of Weathervane customers. You peek at him a few – too many – times, taking in the newfound persona that comes with your long awaited introductions.

Introductions…

“Cielos, ni siquiera le dije mi nombre,” you sigh quietly to yourself, “who taught me how to interact with people?”

You rest your forehead on the table beside your laptop, contemplating whether or not you should abandon all hope of progressing this new…friendship? You were sure that after Xavier realizes your lack in basic social skills and not-so-cool stature, the boy would probably move on to one of the other hundreds of girls you’re positive are fawning over him back at the academy.

“Is everything alright?”

Once again, the long-haired Nevermore boy has impeccable timing.

“Bell…”

“Hm?” He tilts his head as he eyes you with a questioning gaze.

“A bell,” you sigh and lift your head, “I’m going to buy you one so I have time to mentally prepare myself when you’re around,” you mumble, though loudly enough that he could hear every syllable. Losing the look of defeat etched across your face, you swiftly smile up at the boy towering over your hunched frame.

“Yes, everything is alright Xavier.”

He chuckles softly, acknowledging the fact that you called him by his name for the first time, before lightly shaking his head and walking off.

‘Can we circle back around to the Mother Teresa possibility, because there’s no way’ you think as you cross your arms along the table and drop your head back down with a groan.

–

Once deciding that the probability of you embarrassing yourself once more was higher than the probability of you having a normal evening while in Xavier’s presence, you decide to take a walk around the grounds.

Like you said before, you didn’t really enjoy learning about white heritage and the different flavors of fudge, but you would rather that than ruin whatever you have with Xavier before it even starts.

You visit a few of the Pilgrim World…attractions? They weren’t really attracting to you per se. After so many years the supposed “community event” is repetitive, and you swear the aura around the whole thing gets gloomier every year. 

While wandering, you see various Nevermore students. Growing up in such a town, you’ve learned the different types of beings that live behind the school’s old walls, and you’ve gotten rather good at guessing who is what; a sort of special edition of your people watching interest.

There are two girls in pilgrim costumes: one with blacked out circular sunglasses balancing on the ridge of her nose, most likely a vampire, and another dark skinned girl with super bright eyes, who’s so alluring that you’re positive she’s a siren. You see a girl and boy together through the window of the town antique shop. The lumpy beanie covering the guy’s head makes it pretty obvious he’s a gorgon, but the girl doesn’t seem to give off any of the major power/creature stereotypes. You sit and ponder it for a minute, glancing at her colorful hair and bright nails, before taking the loss and continuing on. 

You’re walking past the old pillories when you spot the same dark-haired girl from earlier, noticing that she’s wearing the black-clothed pilgrim get-up.

‘It oddly compliments her,’ you think as you watch her wipe down the shirt of a nerdy looking boy. She doesn’t look like the type to do the whole “helping hand” thing, so it’s quite intriguing to say the least.

You find out from one of your classmates who’s working that the jobs are divided into two separate shifts, one of them ending in about thirty minutes. You chat for a bit before making your way back to the cafe.

‘I definitely should not be doing this.’

–

You’ve been sitting on a bench outside of Weathervane, wondering whether you should actually go inside or just stay out here.

What you wanted to do was ask Xavier to walk around after his shift. This seemed like the perfect place to hang out for the first time: entertainment, food, things to talk about, and other people.

Heavy on other people. The more people around, the less likely you were to embarrass yourself…again…for like the fifth time.

‘If I go inside, I’ll probably end up blabbering about why I left, just to come back not even 2 hours later. If I stay outside, he’ll probably think I’m a creep who’s been peeping through the windows.’

Decisions, decisions.

‘Or option 3, I get up right now and pretend I was never here…yeah imma go with that one.’ You grab your bag and small pouch of fudge that you purchased – you said you didn’t like learning about it, not that it wasn’t delicious – and walk right past the door just as it opens.

“Funny seeing you here.”

You stop in your tracks, scrunching your face in a “the world hates me” type of manner before turning around.

“Oh yeah. I was just in the neighborhood. Small town, you know?” You shift back and forth on your feet as you come face to face with your outcast acquaintance for the first time, both of you standing at your full heights. “Gosh, you’re tall.”

“So I’ve been told,” he chuckles before nudging towards your bag of fudge, “I see you went exploring…find anything interesting?”

“Nope, pretty much the same as every year. Dead white guys, how dead white guys used to treat people slightly differently than them, and fudge that could probably give a small village their needed sugar intake,” you say and jostle the bag, “though I will admit my tia’s flan could do just about the same.” 

He laughs, and all you could think about is how good of an alarm it would be.

‘Totally creepy Y/N, knock it off.’

You catch sight of the girl with the colorful hair just behind Xavier, and once again wonder what her whole ordeal is.

“Hey, so totally random,” you start and point your finger in the girl’s general direction, “you know people from your school right? Do you think you could tell me what her power is? The girl who looks like she’d eat cotton candy for its nutritional value.”

He turns around, glimpsing at the girl.

“That’s Enid. She’s a werewolf I believe. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I was just guessing everyone’s abilities while walking around earlier and could not guess hers for the life of me.” You announce dramatically before smiling, noticing he’s smirking right back at you.

“Guessing abilities huh? Okay then, let’s see what you’ve got.” He makes a sweeping gesture towards the crowd mixed with normies and outcasts.

“Okay bet.”

–

After that, the flow of conversation becomes easy. 

You start off with the ability guessing game, before making your way onto various topics ranging from the pilgrim world exhibits to a storytime about how you once got detention for eating flan in class.

“It wasn’t my fault! If anything, it was my teacher’s fault for making the class stay back 10 minutes from lunch because someone else was talking,” you exasperate, “I wouldn’t have had to eat it in class if I was given my allotted meal time.”

It seems as though the entire time, Xavier is staring at you. I mean yeah you’re having a conversation, and that would be proper etiquette, but still. He wasn’t just looking at you because you guys were talking, but he was actually attentive; taking in what you’re saying and staying engaged.

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve mentioned this flan. I might just have to try it one day.”

You smile up at him, feeling your face heat up at the simple fact that he has been listening to you this whole time. With how much you guys were talking, you hardly noticed how long you’ve been walking around.

“Do you wanna sit down for a bit? I think we’ve learned about every dead white guy who’s ever lived here,” he smiles softly and raises his eyebrows towards the same bench you were panicking on not too long ago.

‘Ay, it’s like he can read my mind. Literally what is happening right now.’

You take your previous seat, and he follows, sitting beside you. You glance around Pilgrim World, the crowds starting to dissipate as the day passes.

“You never guessed what my ability was,” Xavier says, looking straight ahead.

“I’m not really sure to be honest. I don’t think you transform into anything, and I’m sure you can’t read minds,” and you thank Jesus for that. “I’m thinking more of a physical ability. Maybe something creative? You have this whole…lone wolf artsy guy type of vibe going on,” you say and gesture towards him.

He’s silent for a moment. 

‘Oh shit did I say something wrong?’

“It’s so easy to tell when you're internally panicking,” he drops his head with a chuckle before looking back at you, “you’re right though.”

“That wasn’t funny Xavier.” You push him with your shoulder and giggle a bit.

He raises his hands in a surrendering gesture before continuing.

“My bad, it’s just funny to see you all riled up and flustered.”

“Funny…” you say and side-eye him.

“Adorable, actually.”

Your face heats up.

“Anyways…so you’re into art? I remember seeing you at the store a few weeks ago and it looked like you were buying art supplies.”

“Surprised you could tell. You know, with you hiding behind your computer and everything.”

You give him a straight stare.

He lightly puffs out air before continuing with a grin, “I dabble in art a bit. I can sorta make my drawings move a bit? Like an animation sort of. It’s hard to explain.”

“You should show me sometime,” you say with no hesitation or regret. Hey, there’s a first time for everything.

He gives you a small nod and a “oh yeah, for sure” before glancing to the side. All the Nevermore students are starting to get together to leave back to campus.

You both stand and start taking slow steps towards the group. Xavier stops when you’re still a few feet away from everyone else and faces you.

“Text me, yeah? I wanna have your number so we can keep talking without having to randomly run into each other.”

You nod and wave him off, your cheeks left hurting from smiling for hours. You grab your phone from your back pocket, along with the cup sleeve that has the phone number written across it. You punch in the number, create a contact, and type a small message.

Sent

–

Xavier’s POV 

I’m sitting in the back of the bus; glancing out the window as we drive past the town buildings, heading towards the forestry marking our descent to the academy. It’s only been a few minutes since I’ve left Pilgrim World when my phone vibrates in my lap: a message from an unknown number.

‘You know what sounds fantastic right now…flan - Y/N’

I chuckle quietly to myself, adding Y/N to my contacts before looking back out the window with a content sigh.

This is so much worse then the first one (I cannot do dialogue oml)...also I take it back I’m not gonna do a taglist bcs I realized how tiring it is to keep track of those once they get longer (but I tagged the few who asked already). 

If I end up making a part 3, it will include the confession!

I no longer support Percy Hynes White and will no longer take request for Xavier Thorpe.

taglist (not open,, will be deleting)

'Hey Lord, You Know I'm Tired.'

It is like clockwork really – the way Miguel goes about the day.

Home: The place for basic necessities that couldn’t be completed at headquarters. The place where he was supposed to yearn to go to at the end of each day, yet the place where he rarely ends up. It is less of a “home” and more of an unnecessary residence, for your presence was fading faster than he cared to acknowledge and to keep outside the walls was to keep you in.

Work: The Arachno-Humanoid Poly Multiverse, he would call it by no other name because that is exactly what it is. A multiverse. Multiple realities converging and connecting through the means of spider-people. If he had a home, and he uses if very wisely, he would consider headquarters the living room that he never occupies; always trapped in his own hideaway for means of work, “play” does not exist in his vocabulary – not anymore at least. The enjoyment of downtime had withered away once you had left, leaving the quiet that relaxation had brought to accept the racket of his misfortune.

Missions: When Miguel was not in one of the two listed places, he was surely on a hunt of his own. He does this a lot now, taking on assignments himself. Though he has timelines to monitor and canon events to oversee, he finds that hands-on pursuits block out the noise more thoroughly than any desk duty. He takes every hit and assault, willingly putting himself in harmful positions in hopes that the ringing in his ears will drown out the distant echo of your laugh.

He can no longer carry weight of his own memories.

So this cycle repeats. In various orders and never through allocated time frames, but using these three places, using these three environments Miguel allows his days to choke on the air that lacks of your scent in hopes that the sounds of his own suffering will drown him.

‘It is all I got, Is this Enough?’

He likes to remind himself that he tried his best, that he held on to the breaking strings of your relationship for as long as he could.

But did he really?

Surely if he did he wouldn’t be wishing for you gone from his mind while simultaneously wishing for his memories to draw fresh.

He does not wish for you back.

He does not wish to witness you breaking again, because that is exactly what would happen. He would never be able to give you what you deserve – what you desire most and he does not wish to watch you walk away again.

He wouldn't be able to erase the memory once more.

As soon as you opened the door, you knew something was wrong. 

Kaz’s eyes didn’t instantly meet yours as you sleepily smiled up at him. Actually, his eyes weren’t looking at you at all. It seemed as though he was looking at something behind you, but you could tell with the cloudy glaze his stare held that he didn’t even realize you stood before him.

You frowned as you reached out to touch his arm, which ultimately deepened when he flinched away from you. 

“Kaz?” 

His eyes finally reached your face, but the recognition as to whom you were was slow. 

You looked at him for a few seconds before analyzing the state he was in: shoulders tense, eyes squinted, brows furrowed, hair stuck against his forehead from the rain. Although, you had a feeling he was disheveled long before the water started pouring.

“Kaz, what’s wrong?”

Left without a response for the second time, you slowly reached for his arm once more. His face follows your movement, staring at your hand far longer than he should. You gently tug his body forward, pulling him out of the harsh weather. You shut the door as lightning strikes, causing him to whip his head in your direction. Your own brows furrowed now.

Not only was it unusual for him to show emotions so prominently, but it was weird for his reactions to be so…reacting. Everyone knew Kaz as the “man with the plan”. He knew every situation inside and out. Knew every possible scenario. But even in the rare case he didn’t, he would never let anybody see that written across his face.

Now sure, Kaz has shown you a side of him he’s never shared with anybody else. Knowing him for years has of course let you see parts of him that the newcomers can only wish they could see. Regardless, you have never seen him so unguarded.

You stand in front of him again. Your fingertips gently graze his cheek when he grabs your wrist as an automatic reaction. Realizing what he has done, he slowly releases his hold on you and puts both his hands on the crow's head that sits atop his cane. 

“Kaz, it’s me,” you whisper. This time you pull down the sleeve of your pajamas before sweeping a stray hair away from his face and nudging his head so he’s facing you once more. His eyes find yours and the recognition starts to form.

“Hello Y/N.” His voice is scratchy and low toned, a drastic change to his usual smooth yet assertive voice. 

“Hi love,” you said in a soft manner. You know that whatever has Kaz so worked up must be big, or else he would never allow you to see him like this. “Let's sit down, okay?”

Kaz walks towards your living room sofa as you walk towards the kitchen to make him some tea. While the water is warming up, you glance towards the man in your sitting area to find his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair. You sigh and lean against the counter. 

Although he doesn’t show it in the simplest of ways, Kaz cares for you very much. He’s been to every birthday night in, sat with you when the life of Ketterdam felt suffocating, and made sure you always had food on your table. No matter the circumstances, he’s been there for you in moments where it felt like it was you against the world, and now it was your turn to show him your support.

You took one last deep breath before making his tea and taking it to him. You set it down on the side table and sat down beside him.

“There were kids,” is all he said. You understood immediately.

Kaz told you about his past one night when walking along crowded East Stave. Although he did have his gloves on, the numerous people rubbing across Kaz from all directions had brought up unwanted memories and induced a panic right in the middle of the road. You, being around at the time, had witnessed the look on Brekker’s face as he swung his head back and forth with a look you never thought you would see him wear. 

You cut through the crowd and dragged Kaz to your apartment, where you sat in silence before he explained his foregoing life. That was the first and last time you thought Kaz would ever let another see him in such a rough shape.

Seeing kids in the same position he was in when he was younger must have triggered an unbearable amount of unwanted memories from his childhood.

You blew out a breath and nodded, though he wasn’t looking at you. Grabbing the blanket you kept alongside your couch, you stood in front of Kaz and draped the fluffy cotton across his shoulders. Crouching, you look him in the eye and give him a soft smile.

“I’m sure you did everything you could,” you said and caressed his cheek with your covered hand knowing he was sensitive to touch right now. You stood up and signaled for him to lay down, “stay here tonight and get some rest.”

He just looked at you, unmoving. It felt like minutes before he laid back and brought the blanket over his shoulder. You were about to turn around and walk to your room when his hand grabbed your wrist again.

“I won’t be able to sleep for a while.”

His vulnerable voice made you want to give him a hug and never let go. Instead, you rubbed your thumb against the back of his gloved hand and walked towards your room only to return with a blanket for yourself. You sat in your living room chair and tried to get cozy.

“If you can’t sleep, just listen to the world with your eyes closed.”

RULES

❏ no hardcore smut

     - please keep in mind that I am a minor, and although I want to 

       accept all requests, asking me for specific scenes that include 

       above and beyond descriptions of sex scenes is not appropriate

     - this does not include tasks such as kissing/making out, light 

       groping, implied sex (such as jokes), etc.

❏ if you have a imagine you would like to request, but don’t

    see a specific book/show/movie you want, don’t be afraid to ask

     - I did not put all of the media I have consumed on here, so it 

       is possible I could still attempt your request

❏ this is basically practice for my writing

     - I am not an author, and although I do love writing, this is more 

       of a hobby than anything else. I would love your advice and 

       constructive criticism, but do not shame my writing because

       it is not up to your standards because I truly do not care :)

REQUESTS

as far as requests go, you can really send in anything your heart desires (if they fall into the rules listed above ofc), I just wanted to you some examples of what your request could be.

❏ specific scene

     - if you saw it in a specific book/movie/show and want it to be

       similar to that event, lmk what book/movie/show it was in

❏ emotions

      - reader/character feeling a specific emotion

      - how you want the story to make you feel

❏ tropes

     - generalized story unless described otherwise

❏ request specific scenes found in the books mentioned below

    - ex: something like the marathon scene in The Wall of Winnipeg

❏ reader presentation

      - LGBTQ+ rep

      - POC

      - female, gender neutral, or trans reader

           - as of now I will not be doing cis-male readers simply because 

              I have no idea as to their experiences or thought process...mb

--

these are just a few examples, but everything just bubbles down to your request and how specific you are !

WHO I WRITE FOR

▸books 

▸shows

▸movies

❏ Spiderverse

     - Miguel O'hara

▸ i'm tired

- Hobie Brown

- Miles Morales (E. 1610 & E. 42)

❏ Avatar: The Way of the Water

     - Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan

           ▸ hayalovay

           ▸ zola'u nìprrte' kelku

           ▸ ‘if you dance, i’ll dance’

     - Lo’ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan

     - Kiri te Suli Kìreysì'ite