#chapter six

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Firestar and Ravenwing were quick to cross the road and cantered home, both silent and their heads heavy with thoughts. Firestar kept going between figuring out how best to talk to Leopardstar and whether they could prevent this war outright. The more cats expressed their doubts to him, the less confident his ideas of negotiations and resolutions sounded, as they insisted they could be fulfilled.

“We’ll have to speak with Leopardstar tomorrow,” Dustpelt said when Firestar reported to him and the elders. “This needs to be acted upon as soon as possible.”

pairing: taehyung x reader rating: PG-16 genre: fantasy, angst this part: the start of a long journey. tw: after-battle destruction, big emotions (anger, fear, betrayal) word count: ~4.1k posted: april 12th 2026; unedited war of the gods masterlist

The walk from the palace to the lower city was a sensory blur of gray ash and copper-tasting blood. Y/N moved through the wreckage like a phantom haunting its own grave, her shadow stretching long and jagged over the broken cobblestones. The smoke clung to her skin like a second, filthier soul. Her boots moved with a mechanical precision, sidestepping the shimmering puddles from burst water mains and the discarded, notched weapons of men who would never pick them up again.

༺𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱,༻  

Please read 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒗𝒆 ~ Ronnie’s POV and 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒗𝒆 ~ J.D.’s POV before reading this!

Ronnie’s POV:

September 30th 2025

Dear Diary,

ℋℯ𝓇ℯ’𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓎 𝒹ℴ𝓃’𝓉 𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓁 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁ℯ 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒽ℴ𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝒸𝓊𝓈𝓈𝒾ℴ𝓃 𝒶𝒻𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 ℴ𝓃 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒶𝓈𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓈𝒸𝒽ℴℴ𝓁 𝑔𝓎𝓂 𝒶𝒻𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝒽ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈: 𝓲𝓽 𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓸𝓯𝓯 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓵 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓸𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓭 𝓘 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓸𝓯𝓯. ℳ𝓎 30 𝒽ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉ℴ 𝓁𝒾𝓋ℯ, 𝒶𝓁𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓈𝒽ℴ𝓇𝓉ℯ𝓃ℯ𝒹 𝒶 𝒷𝒾𝓉 𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓂 𝓌𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓀ℯ𝒹 ℴ𝓊𝓉 ℴ𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝑔𝓇ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝓁ℯℯ𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝓀𝓊𝓁𝓁-𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒷ℯℯ𝓃 𝓂𝒾𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓊𝓁ℴ𝓊𝓈𝓁𝓎 ℯ𝓍𝓉ℯ𝓃𝒹ℯ𝒹 𝒾𝓃𝓉ℴ 54. 𝒴ℯ𝓉 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓎 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝐼 𝓈𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒽ℴ𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓁 ℯ𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓁ℯ 𝓈𝒶𝓊𝒸ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝓋 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝒶𝓇ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝐼 𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒻ℯℯ𝓁 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒸𝓁ℴ𝒸𝓀 𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒹ℴ𝓌𝓃 𝓉ℴ 𝒯𝓊ℯ𝓈𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓂ℴ𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝐼’𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓉ℴ 𝑔ℴ 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉ℴ 𝓈𝒸𝒽ℴℴ𝓁. 𝐼 𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓎𝒷ℯ 𝒾𝒻 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓈𝓊𝓃 𝓌ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷ℯ𝑔𝒾𝓃 𝓉ℴ 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃ℯ 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔ℴ𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓂ℯ𝓇𝒸𝓎 ℴ𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓈ℴ𝓊𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 ℋℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝓌ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔ℴ ℯ𝒶𝓈𝓎 ℴ𝓃 𝓂ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓏ℯ 𝓌ℯ 𝒷ℴ𝓉𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓌ℯ 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓂ℯ𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉…

𝓡𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓪𝓶 𝓘 𝓴𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓮’𝓻𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱. 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮’𝓼 𝓷𝓸 𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓬𝔂 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓼𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼.

𝒲ℯ𝓁𝓁, 𝓈ℴ𝓂ℯ 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒽ℴ𝓁ℯ 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒷ℯℯ𝓃 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓌𝒽ℴ𝓁ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒽ℴ𝓂ℯ𝒸ℴ𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎 𝒮𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔ℴ𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓊𝓅 ℴ𝓃 𝒯𝒾𝓀𝒯ℴ𝓀 𝒷ℯ𝒻ℴ𝓇ℯ 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝒹 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃 𝓌ℴ𝓀ℯ𝓃 𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒸ℴ𝓂𝒶. 𝓘’𝓿𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓿𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓵 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝔀𝓪𝔂. 𝒢𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓉, 𝐼’𝓂 𝒶𝓁𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝑔𝓇ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹ℯ𝒹 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓉𝓌ℴ 𝓌ℯℯ𝓀𝓈 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓌𝒽ℴ𝓁ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝐼’𝓂 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓃ℯ𝓌 𝒻𝒶𝒸ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝓅ℯℴ𝓅𝓁ℯ 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝒹𝒶𝓇ℯ 𝓉ℴ 𝒹ℯ𝒻𝓎 ℋℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓁ℯ𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝓇𝓊𝓃𝓀 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇! 𝒲ℯ 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉ℴ 𝑔ℴ 𝓋𝒾𝓇𝒶𝓁. ℬ𝓊𝓉, 𝓌𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝐼 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉ℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝑔ℴ 𝓋𝒾𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓝𝓞𝓣 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓂ℯ𝒶𝓃𝓉! 𝒢ℴ𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓈ℯ 𝒷𝓊𝓁𝓁𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝓋𝒾𝒹ℯℴ𝓈 ℴ𝒻 𝒹𝓇𝓊𝓃𝓀 𝓅ℯℴ𝓅𝓁ℯ 𝒷ℯ𝒾𝓃𝑔 “𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓅𝒾𝒹” ℴ𝓃 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓅𝒶𝑔ℯ𝓈 𝒶𝓇ℯ 𝒻𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝒾𝓉’𝓈 𝓎ℴ𝓊. 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓪 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓰𝓸 𝓿𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓵.

ℋℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝓇𝓊ℯ 𝓉ℴ 𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝒹, 𝐼’𝓂 𝒶𝓃 “ℯ𝓍-𝓈ℴ𝓂ℯ𝒷ℴ𝒹𝓎” 𝓃ℴ𝓌. 𝒩ℴ𝒷ℴ𝒹𝓎 𝒹𝒶𝓇ℯ𝓈 𝓉ℴ 𝓁ℴℴ𝓀 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 ℯ𝓎ℯ, 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝐼’𝓂 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒸𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓇ℯ 𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓂 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒷𝓁𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓁𝒶𝑔ℴℴ𝓃 ℴ𝓃 𝒶 𝓇𝒶𝓂𝓅𝒶𝑔ℯ! 𝐼𝒻 ℋℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝒹ℯ𝒸𝒾𝒹ℯ𝓈 𝓎ℴ𝓊’𝓇ℯ 𝒹ℯ𝒶𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁 𝒷ℯ 𝒶𝓇ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ. ℰ𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓎ℴ𝓃ℯ 𝓉𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓉𝓈 𝓂ℯ 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝐼’𝓂 𝓃ℴ𝓉 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ, 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓎 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓈ℯℯ 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓂ℯ. 𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓘 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓯 𝓪𝓷𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓶𝓮…𝓗𝓔𝓛𝓛𝓞! 𝓘𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮? ℳ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒶’𝓈 𝒷ℯ𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝓊𝓁𝓁𝒾ℯ𝒹 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓈ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓊𝓈𝓊𝒶𝓁. 𝒪𝒻 𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈ℯ 𝓈𝒽ℯ 𝒻ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹 ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 ℋℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇’𝓈 “𝓅𝒾ñ𝒶𝓉𝒶” 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝐼 𝓂ℯ𝒶𝓃, 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓁 ℴ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒾𝓃𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓃ℯ𝓉 𝓉ℴℴ 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃 𝒽ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈. 𝐼 𝓈ℯℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓈𝒽ℯ 𝓇ℯ𝒸ℴ𝒾𝓁𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓉ℴ 𝒽ℯ𝓇𝓈ℯ𝓁𝒻 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝒶 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒹ℯ𝓃𝒸ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽ℯ𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓈𝒽ℯ 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓌𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓊𝓅 𝓉ℴ ℛ𝒶𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝒽ℯ𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒷𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓀𝓈 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝒽ℯ𝓇. 𝓢𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓼 𝓼𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓽…𝒮𝒽ℯ 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒹ℴℯ𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝓌𝓇ℴ𝓉ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉ℯ𝓍𝓉. 𝓑𝓾𝓽, 𝓘 𝓭𝓸. 𝐼 𝑔𝓊ℯ𝓈𝓈 𝐼 𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓁 𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓉𝒽 𝓃ℴ𝓌. 𝒯𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ’𝓈 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓃ℴ 𝒷ℯ𝓃ℯ𝒻𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓀ℯℯ𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓊𝓅 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓁𝒾ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓂ℴ𝓇ℯ, 𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽? ℬ𝓊𝓉, 𝐼 𝒹ℴ𝓃’𝓉 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒾𝒻 ℳ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒶 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒶𝓀ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓂ℴ𝓇ℯ 𝒽ℯ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒷𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓀 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓃ℴ𝓌. 𝐼𝒻 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓉𝒽 𝓌ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓀𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝒷ℯ𝒻ℴ𝓇ℯ 𝐼 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁 𝒷ℯ 𝒹𝒾𝑔𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝒷𝓎 𝓈𝒶𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 ℛ𝒶𝓂 𝒹ℴℯ𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝒽ℯ𝓇. 𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝓈ℯℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉? 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓉ℴ 𝓀ℯℯ𝓅 𝓁𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸.

𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ’𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ ℯ𝓁ℯ𝓅𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓇ℴℴ𝓂: 𝓙.𝓓. 𝓱𝓪𝓼𝓷’𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓻𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓘 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰. 𝐼 𝓈𝓌ℯ𝒶𝓇 𝐼 𝒻ℯℯ𝓁 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂ℯ 𝒹𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓈…𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓹𝔂, 𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽? 𝒞𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓉 𝒹ℯ𝓈𝓅ℯ𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓈ℯℯ 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝒾𝓉. ℋℯ 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝓉ℴ 𝒶𝒸𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝓃ℴ𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅ℯ𝓃ℯ𝒹, 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉…𝑔ℴ 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉. 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰’𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓭. 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓈ℴ 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓆𝓊ℯ𝓈𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒹ℴ𝓃’𝓉 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒾𝒻 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌ℯ𝓇𝓈 𝓉ℴ 𝓎ℯ𝓉. 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝔂𝓮𝓽 𝓘 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝔀𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓯 𝓘 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓬𝓻𝓪𝔃𝔂…

𝓑𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓷 𝓪 𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓵 𝓯𝓾𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓼 𝓲𝓼𝓷’𝓽 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽’𝓼 𝓬𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓾𝓹 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮𝓼. 𝓑𝓾𝓽, 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽’𝓼 𝓪 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓸?

✎𓂃Ronnie☆

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

As I walk through the cafeteria I scout my options on where to sit. Lunch food is crap as always, the lunch tray is in my hand but the too familiar hectic sounds of a high school caf sound more distant than they’ve ever been. Kurt and Ram don’t even smack my lunch tray or say I’m “looking good today”. No, they just ignore me. Wow, even the sluggers are giving me the silent treatment now too. Gotta give it to Heather-only a teen of her stature could keep Ram and Kurt on a tight enough leash they don’t chase a bone or bark and gnaw on a “treat”. Normally I’d sit with the Heathers on a day like this, but that was before I royally messed up.

I don’t have to approach their table, I could sit with Martha…I look over at Martha’s table, the table I used to sit at too before the glitz and glamor of being popular. My best friend sits alone, her head down as the people at the nearby tables gossip about the piñata, replaying the video over and over again. Ugh, I want to pry those phones out of their hands and yell “Hey! Stop watching that!” But, I don’t. Instead I stand there frozen and helpless when I should’ve been anything but. God, why won’t my mouth open. Don’t just stand there! DO SOMETHING?!

With one more attempt at self preservation, I hold my breath and walk over to the Heathers’ table. Freedom in the hospital was nice while it lasted but now that it’s Tuesday it’s time to kiss Heather’s ass for forgiveness.

The table looks to be in order. Heather Mac sitting in what looks like perfect and poised posture telling some story about her squad (cheer captain always has the hot gos) while flailing her arms around in a way that was less poised. Heather Duke was binging again with the intention of vomiting after lunch to “maintain her weight and not gain any more pounds” she looked like she was going to need another forged note to get herself out of this one. And Heather Chandler sat at the end of the table like a queen observing my last supper. Within a few steps of the table all three stopped what they were doing to look me dead in the eye.

“Hey…”

I tried to sit down on the end closest to me but Heather scooted over into my seat before I could, her eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance and she had almost a look of confusion that I had the balls to come over here after everything before looking back down at her tray. Right. Of course. Too scared to say anything to my face yet her actions speak volumes.

“Ronnie, who said you could sit with us?” Heather looked at her nails instead of me, like my speaking was already an inconvenience for her.

“I’m sorry, what? You did. Remember?” I shrug, looking away. Great, I’m already embarrassed I even tried.

“I actually said your invitation to the lunch table would be revoked starting on Monday, remember?”

“Come on, Heather don’t be ridiculous. We both said things that night we didn’t mean.”

“Did we?” She tilts her head, eyes narrowed.

“Uh, huh. I came here to apologize.” I nod with my shoulders tense. “And I bring lunch as a peace offering.” I bow towards her, holding my tray out in front of me. I can feel all the eyes watching but right now all that matters is Heather accepting my proposal.

“I’d prefer if you did this on your knees, in front of the whole school.” She smirked.

I force a smile, trying to ignore her humiliating “joke”. You know Heather-she loves to make jokes like that…“Anyhow, I’m really sorry.” I say quietly with my head down.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” She leaned closer, her voice growing serious. “Down.” She growled at me as she pointed downward.

I look around at all these kids watching me with bated breath, nobody helping me, but everyone watching. HELLO?! Is anyone here?! Please!

It was then I realized it was stupid of me to ever think I’d belong with them, that I could survive being with them. No, I’m a dog they’re yanking on the chain of.

I got down on my knees slowly, looking up at Heather from the table, Heather was staring me down with smug amusement and Heather watched with guilt written across her face in bright yellow ink. Heather smiled at me as she stood up and walked over, observing me from above.

“Nice.” She leaned closer to whisper to me: “But, you’re still dead to me.” Her smile grew wider in girlish and cruel mockery.

I shouldn’t have come here. They were never going to let me back in. I’m not welcome anymore.

“I’m sure the loser nerd table is looking for more people, Ronnie. Don’t fall and hit your head again, sweetie.” She perked up with a wave.

I stood up and left the cafeteria with my head down, but this time? Heather Mac didn’t follow me out…

Well, here we are. Back in the bathroom stall again. Alone. Outside the totally gross cleanliness of eating in a bathroom I guess it’s not so bad in here…

Fuck, what am I saying this is really bad.

At least when I was a nobody I could actually eat in the cafeteria. Sure they’d bully me and smack my lunch trays but, I wasn’t alone. You heard her I’ll be lucky if they ever let me back into the cafeteria again! Instead I’ll be sitting on this real *classy* toilet to eat my lunch, knowing nobody’s going to come looking for me. Not that I want to be found anyway. Now that I’m an ex-somebody I might as well not even exist anymore! Can you imagine? Not even being seen or heard by anyone around you, let me tell you it’s NOT fun. Be careful what you wish for, folks! If you want people to leave you alone they will…But at what cost to your dignity? God, J.D. was right, I should’ve never bowed to them. I should’ve sat with Martha but I didn’t. Why didn’t I just sit with Martha? She would’ve welcomed me back with open arms if I just asked if she was free for movie night tonight! If I even deserve to be welcomed back after being such an awful friend to her about Ram…

September 30th 2025

Dear Diary,

“𝐼 𝒷ℯ𝓁𝒾ℯ𝓋ℯ 𝐼’𝓂 𝒶 𝑔ℴℴ𝒹 𝓅ℯ𝓇𝓈ℴ𝓃” 𝓡𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓾𝓽.

𝓐𝓶 𝓘 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝓫𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓸𝓻 𝓭𝓸 𝓘 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮?

𝒩ℴ𝓌 𝓌ℯ’𝓁𝓁 𝓃ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌…

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

My head already hurts I don’t need the waterworks.

Maybe I don’t have to leave this stall, right? I can just stay here for the rest of senior year like a demented bathroom ghost and nobody will ever make fun of me or laugh at me again…The only freedom I can taste is a life behind this stall door, free and safe and sound-

“You know, bowing to the enemy only proves your own submission to her rule.”

Woah! I almost jumped out of my skin as I realized I wasn’t alone in the bathroom anymore and that a familiar pair of boots were standing in front of the stall door.

“I thought you were done with Heather.”

“And I thought I knew you, guess we both thought wrong…” I sniffle with annoyance.

There’s a long pause before I hear a small click of his tongue. “Ok,” His typical nasally cadence grew higher. “You’re mad I didn’t tell you about my affliction. I get it.”

I roll my eyes. Yeah, well the fact he came in here even after my constant avoidance proves otherwise so…

“I don’t think you do. Just leave me alone, J.D. Besides, you’ll get caught standing in the girls bathroom like this.” I rub my nose, trying to hide I’ve been crying as much as possible behind a stern voice.

“And leave you alone here crying?” He sat down on the ground in front of my stall. “Guess you really don’t know me at all then. Oh, and believe me getting caught won’t be a problem for me.”

“Right how can I forget you’re…whatever you are…”

“I’m dead, Sawyer. Does that give you the satisfaction you want to hear aloud?”

This can’t be happening. This can’t be real, I’ve got to be going crazy and seeing things! There’s no other explanation. He can’t be real. I don’t believe in ghosts…

Then why does he feel so real when he talks to me?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice suddenly grows softer and more fragile as I begin to feel the tears pouring again.

“Cause I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

I put the tray on the ground and cross my arms, “Who says I believe you now?”

“I can’t say for sure but, you are still talking to me and I’ll take what I can get.”

“For how long?” I look down at the sliver of his back I can see under the stall door, facing opposite me.

“36 years give or take, it starts to get blurry.”

“Jesus, and I thought high school was bad for us.” I blurt out without thinking before cursing at myself and putting my hands over my mouth with wide eyes. “Can our other classmates-”

“To my knowledge it’s just you.”

Great, lucky me. I’m the only one in this school that sees the dead kid. “I see dead people” is going to look great on my resume after college! No wonder he took up with me, I mean god knows when he’s spoken to anyone else! I hate that I’m starting to feel bad for him…

“Do you have any family left here?”

“I don’t know. My dad owned a deconstruction company in the 80s. Seems the old man liked tearing things down. You seen the commercial?” His voice suddenly shifted into like a higher pitched Texan accent: “‘I’m Big Bud Dean if it’s in the way I’ll make your day!’”

My face lights up instantly. “RIGHT! And then he pushes down on the plunger and the screen blows up!” I push down on the air before gesturing a big explosion with my arms and laugh. “That’s your dad? God, I saw that commercial all the time on my parents’ old VHS tapes! I didn’t know Big Bud had another son!”

“Another?”

“Well, yeah.” I shrug. “He left the business in the family gave it to his first son. Didn’t know he had a brother is all.”

“So, I see…Nice to know my old man held true to his word. He always could make another son anytime he wants…”

My face drops and eyes widen as I process what he just said. God, it feels like my heart’s about to beat out of my chest. Shit.

“He replaced me.”

“J.D. I’m so-”

“It’s ok.” He answered too quickly, cutting me off. “The pain gives me clarity.”

How can pain possibly give anyone clarity? Come on, pain is pain…

“If this place sucks so much why don’t you leave like the rest of us? Travel the world? Nothing’s keeping you here.”

“Believe me when I say I’ve tried. It was the winter of 89, I had just woken up from my eternal slumber and already wanted to leave. No point in staying, you know-so I walked within a couple steps of the exit before being brought back down to where I died. I tried again to no avail too. Every exit, even going out through the windows. I can’t leave. Nobody can see me. I’m alone.”

“Well…I guess that makes two of us.” I try to cross my arms and sound strong as I look up at the ceiling so I don’t see him still sitting there all sad like that.

“I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Don’t give me that.” I sigh. “Can we just-sit here in silence for a bit please before I regret accepting your apology?”

“Fine by me.”

And so we sat there in silence for the rest of my lunch period, both sad in different ways but that feeling of connection, in knowing we weren’t going it alone and that we heard each other even if we didn’t say a word charged the air with something that, well I don’t know how to describe…

Later in the day after class J.D. and I hung out in the stairwell next to the gym. Believe me, I was still mad at him for keeping all this stuff a secret but right now? It was the best company I could get. It was while we were sitting together Heather McNamara and a group of her fellow cheerleaders ran into the gym with their pom poms in hand. J.D.’s eyebrows shot up as he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek-he always does that when he’s thinking about something…

“What’s with all the pom poms?”

“Cheer practice,” I roll my eyes before resting my hands on my knees. “Big pep rally Friday night.” My eyes widen in fake innocence as I pitch my voice up and shrink into myself sweetly. “GO ROTTWEILERS! GO TO HELL GO TO HELL NOW!” I smile teasingly.

J.D. looks amused, tilting his head down before turning his head to me. “Not a bad impression.”

“Oh, not a big pep rally person, huh?” I gently punch where his arm would be, leaving just enough room to not freak out his body again.

“I’m more of a sit in solitude in the library man myself.” He smirks back before leaning closer. “Believe me, there’s nothing to be cheerful about here at Westerberg.”

“Heather’s doing a speech for it. Heather’s been telling her she should ‘rehearse more,’” I put my hands up in quotation marks. “But, you know Heather. God, she thinks she’s invincible. What I wouldn’t give to wipe that smug look off her face. Would be a shame if something went wrong at the pep rally.”

He narrowed his eyes and looked back at the gym door. “Yeah, real shame indeed…”

“Maybe if we’re lucky she’ll fall in her heels or as my revenge I can replace her queue cards with something out of Cards Against Humanity. Now that’ll embarrass her in front of the whole school!” I tilt my head to face him. “People pull out their phones and bam!” I gesture with my hands. “All over the internet by Saturday! Or better yet she just drops dead!” I laugh before my face falls into exhaustion and frustration as I lay my head down on the stairs.

J.D. follows my lead and does the same. “Heather Chandler…now that’s one person at this school who really deserves to die.”

“Right like anyone could actually do anything to Heather. You’re a ghost, J.D. You aren’t human anymore you can’t interfere with us living guys.” I bite back with a smile and snarky hand wave away.

J.D. doesn’t say anything for a long time, staring up at the ceiling again like he’s thinking about something I couldn’t possibly imagine. Great he’s doing that “zoning out in his own dark world” thing again...

“Hey, earth to J.D.” I wave my hand in front of his face. This seems to work as he blinks and looks back over at me. “Forget it.” I respond sternly. “You can’t be serious, nobody deserves to die, you know that…” I try to laugh it off before my face turns to serious again. “Right?”

“They don’t?” He tilted his head, eyes baring into my soul like he’s searching for an honest answer.

I don’t know what to say to him, I know the answer is obviously no. No. Nobody deserves to die, no. But, it would be a lie to say I’ve never thought about it. We all have. That doesn’t mean we’re actually going to do anything about it. Hurting people isn’t something I’d do. Besides J.D. is probably just kidding around…That’s not something he’d do either. Forget it, I shouldn’t have said anything. Why did I say that? It was just a lapse in my thought process. Some things probably shouldn’t be said out loud where the whole school can hear you…

“You’re not funny.” I smile before crossing my arms and pouting overdramatically, so “offended” by his joke before looking up at the ceiling too.

“Alright,” He puts his hands up defensively before turning back over and grinning at me. “I’m sorry.”

He leans over like he wants to kiss me, even though we both know we can’t. In that moment the space between us has never felt wider and yet so small.

“Do you think it’ll be ok?” I ask abruptly before nodding, my eyes looking away from him. “Like in the end by graduation and shit…” I say it like another joke but my eyes are serious and vulnerable.

The look in his eyes soften as he looks back down while moving his jaw:

“I hope so.”

READ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒙 ~ J.D.’s POV HERE!

incident of dr. lanyon

🔥Star Crossed🧚‍♀️

Johnny Storm x Megan Gwynn (Pixie)

Fantastic Four/X-Men

Chapter 6 Babysitting Blunders

"Exactly how many times do you babysit on a monthly basis?" Megan asked, looking down at little Franklin, who was on the living room rug, surrounded by books ranging from pictures only to textbooks on quantum physics.

"This month is an anomaly," Johnny told her. He sat on the couch next to Franklin and picked up a book off the floor.

A few days had past since the incident with Mad Thinker, but that wasn't the part that Megan remembered the most from that night. It was the way Johnny looked at her amongst the clouds and stars. The divide between them, but also the undeniable attraction that made her heart beat faster when she was around him. He also irritated her in a way no other man had.

"I thought Reed said H.E.R.B.I.E. was capable of babysitting Franklin?"

"When he was a baby, sure," Johnny said, and opened the book on his lap. "But he turns two in a couple of weeks. Herbert needs the extra help."

The little Robot rolled its way into the living room and Johnny scratched his head. He beeped and booped, before heading to Franklin and stacking the books into a pile. Franklin's brows furrowed as he took the books out of the pile and scattered them over the floor again.

"He's very particular, isn't he?" Megan smirked.

"About a lot of things, yes," Johnny replied, chuckling.

"So, where is Ben tonight?" She asked and sat down beside him on the couch.

Johnny rested his hands behind his head and fell back against the couch cushions. A faint smile curled at the corner of lips. "A date."

Her head whipped over, eyes wide. "Ben has a girlfriend?"

The smile only grew wider on Johnny's face as he turned his head to face Megan. "Yup. They've been together for about six months now, I think."

"And she didn't come to family dinner?"

Johnny shook his head and got up from the couch. Franklin's attention briefly went to Johnny before returning to organizing his books. Johnny headed over to the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a glass container with a light blue rubber lid on it.

Content that Franklin was busy with his literature, Megan got up from the couch and made her way to the kitchen. She sat on the stool across from Johnny while he pulled open the container and lifted it to smell.

"Why doesn't she come to family dinner?" Megan asked.

He grabbed a paper towel and laid it over the glass dish. "Ben said, she's afraid we won't like her."

"Wait. What?" Megan's eyes widened like saucers.

"I guess we're intimidating," he grinned while placing the dish into the microwave.

"That doesn't look like enough dinner for all of us?" Megan inquired, nodding her head at the microwave.

"Because it's not for all of us. That's Franklin's dinner."

Then what are we having for dinner?"

His grin grew just as the microwave beeped. "It's a surprise."

The savory scent of tomato sauce wafted out of the microwave when Johnny opened it. He pulled open a drawer beside the sink and pulled out a fork, using it to stir the noodles and sauce. Megan breathed in deep and her stomach responded with a loud grumble.

"I hope we aren't waiting too long to eat," She said, adjusting herself on the stool.

"Not at all. Franklin usually goes to bed not long after he eats, and right after I'll get ours started."

"You're going to cook?" She laughed. "Isn't that H.E.R.B.I.E.'s job?"

"Not all the time," He replied. "Wanna grab Franklin for me?"

With a quick nod, Megan swiveled on the stool and jumped up. H.E.R.B.I.E. was no where in sight when she reached the living room. But he wasn't the only one missing. The circle of books was still there, but Franklin was not. She peaked under the couch and end tables, lifting up the throw blankets as well, just in case.

"Franklin," She said softly, "Are you hiding?"

No response. Not even a babble.

"Johnny," She said louder and turned her head back to the kitchen.

"What's up?" He hollered back.

"Franklin isn't here."

The sound of silverware on glass stopped. Within two seconds, Johnny was at her side. His arms crossed over his chest and his brows furrowed. Megan couldn't help but take notice of his biceps straining against the maroon fabric of his t-shirt. She shook her head, trying to get the thought to go away. There were more pressing things. Like where Franklin was.

"Does he usually do this?"' She asked.

"What? Hide? Not usually."

"I checked under everything," she told him, lifting one of the throw pillows as if Franklin would be under it. "Where could he be?"

"Let's divide and conquer," He said, "There are only so many places here a two year old could go."

"Right."

He raised his hand for a high five. She smacked her hand hard against his and went racing off to another side of the house.

Johnny pushed open the door of the nursery. The lights were off. The room was faintly illuminated my the city lights peaking through the curtains. He checked under the crib and inside the closet, before moving to the dresser and checking each drawer. But, no luck. He wasn't in the nursery.

He moved from room to room, each one a bust. Where was his nephew? At the start of the search he wasn't panicked, but with each room being cleared the worry was bubbling up. He hadn't heard the elevator at all, so Franklin had to be on either the first or second floor of the house, and that's if Franklin took the stairs. He knew how to use them. Johnny remembered Sue working with Franklin on that. But every room on the second floor was empty.

"Megan," He shouted from the top of the stairs.

She ran out of the laundry room and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Any luck?"

He shook his head. "You?"

"No," She said, her voice shaky.

He noticed the concern in her eyes.

"We'll find him," he said, trying to reassure himself as well as her.

"Where did H.E.R.B.I.E go? Maybe he's with him. He knows how to use to elevator right?"

"Yeah, but I never heard it open or close," Johnny replied.

"We were pretty busy talking in the kitchen Johnny, we could have missed it."

Both of them turned to the elevator. "Reed's Lab." Johnny said softly and rushed to the elevator with Megan in tow. He pressed the down button and waiting impatiently, tapping his foot. His lips pursed as the doors opened with a ding. They rushed inside and he pushed the button for the lab. Only a few moments passed and the doors opened.

The lab was quiet save for the small beeps coming from H.E.R.B.I.E, who was in front of Reed's large curved chalkboard. Franklin was beside him, a piece of chalk in hand. Johnny let out a sigh of relief as they made their way over to the pair.

"Whatcha doing buddy?" Johnny asked Franklin, kneeling beside him.

At Franklin's level on the chalkboard were equations. Johnny knew the boy was intelligent beyond his years, but what was written before him blew his mind. Franklin was trying to work out the wormhole equations his dad still had scribbled higher up on the board.

"Is that what I think that is?" Megan asked, kneeling on the other side of Franklin.

"Yeah, and it looks like he's closer to a solution then Reed is."

Franklin brought the chalk back to the board and wrote a few more lines. Johnny couldn't pull his eyes away as the toddler wrote out more of the theoretical formula.

"Should we let him continue?" Megan whispered.

As much as he wanted to let Franklin keep going, he knew he had to get his nephew fed and to bed or else Sue would give him an earful about the strict schedule she'd set for him.

He shook his head. "Come on little man. Let's get you some dinner."

Johnny grabbed the chalk from the boy's hand and set it on the ledge of the chalkboard, then lifted him up into his arms. Megan and H.E.R.B.I.E. follow behind as they all filed into the elevator, taking it back to the main floor of the house.

The rest of the night with Franklin went off without a hitch, but Johnny couldn't get the equations out of his head as he opened the box of spaghetti pasta and dumped it into the boiling pot of water. How could he know more about how to get Megan home than Reed did?

"I love spaghetti," Megan beamed, pulling Johnny from his thoughts.

He let a smile grow on his face. "Well, good, because you're about to taste Johnny's special spaghetti."

"What's so special about it?" She asked, resting her chin in her hands.

"Can't tell you."

"That's not fair," she grumbled, but the curl of a grin on her lips gave away that she wasn't really upset about it.

He grabbed a spoon from the spinning container that held all the large utensils. Lifting the lid off the top of the saucepan, he stirred the contents and pulled the spoon out. He leaned over the island and held the spoon out to Megan.

"Taste."

She lifted her head from her hands and wrapped her lips around the tip of the spoon. She let out a moan, and her eyes closed. A flicker of heat shot from Johnny's heart down to his groin at the sound of Megan's enjoyment. His heart rate quickened the moment Megan's lips left the spoon and her tongue ran over her upper lip.

"That's delicious," she said as her eyes fluttered open.

His cheeks heated, and he set the spoon down on the towel beside the pan.

"I'm glad you like it," he choked out.

"You gonna tell me what's in it now?" She giggled.

"Nope."

His gaze remained on her, so lost in her black and white eyes, that when she jumped up from the stool, it startled him.

"Johnny! The noodles are boiling over!"

He blinked rapidly. Megan turned the knob of the burner, lowering the heat. Her wings fluttered as she turned her attention away from the water.

"Sorry, I was uh, distracted."

"Oh, yeah?" She asked.

His breathing was shallow, watching her turn away from the pasta to face him directly. She took a few steps towards him, but he took a few back. He wanted her, but the time between them was finite. He had to be logical about her. About them. With Franklin's help, Reed would figure out how to get Megan home sooner than he thought, and that meant he shouldn't get attached. More than he already had.

"Everything okay?" She asked, her eyes hooded as she took another step towards him.

"Megan," he said in a low voice.

"Johnny."

Her pink hair fell over her shoulders, and he wanted to reach out and touch it, but he stopped himself. He took another step back, slamming into the fridge.

Her sultry eyes changed in an instant to frustration. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"What?" He asked, playing dumb.

"Backing away from me Johnny," She said through pursed lips.

"I don't know," He lied.

"Johnny." She whined loudly.

His chest rose and fell slowly as she closed the distance between them. "You're going to leave at some point," He replied softly.

She stopped in her tracks. "Yeah, but I'm here right now. Doesn't that count for something?"

"It does, but—"

"You can't tell me in this moment, you don't want to kiss me," She grinned, resting a hand on his chest.

He brought his hand up to rest gently on her wrist. "Megan, this is going to end. We both know it. Doesn't that concern you?"

"Johnny, shut up." She scolded. "Do you want to kiss me or not?"

He was taken aback. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

"There is no way you are actually asking me that right now." She replied in disbelief.

"It's a simple question."

"Dammit Johnny, kiss me!"

His lips crashed into hers before he gave his brain a moment to think. Her hair was soft in his fingers as he reached up to pull her deeper into the kiss. Sparks of fire raced through his body from her moans. Her hands moved up to his neck, and she kissed him back frantically.

He heard her gasp when he wrapped his free arm around her waist and lifted her onto the island beside the stovetop. His body rested perfectly between her open legs, that proceeded to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to her.

Her whimpers of pleasure only spurred him on, letting his lips part. She followed suit, as her lips opened and his tongue intertwined with hers. A low groan escaped his lips, and he couldn't stop himself, letting his primal urges take over. He scotched her farther on the island, and she laid back; her legs still clamped tightly around his waist. A loud crash of metal and plastic told him the utensils were now on the floor.

Her taste was intoxicating to him. He couldn't get enough, until he felt her body wince under him.

He broke the kiss as his attention turned to her wings.

"Are you okay?"

Her breathing was rapid. "I'm fine," She said, gasping for breath. Her hand wrapped around his neck and she pulled his lips back down to hers.

One of his hands roamed her side, memorizing every curve of her body. She was gorgeous. Every inch of her was perfection. Her free hand, that wasn't holding his head down to hers, moved to the hem of his shirt. Her fingertips moved under the fabric and over his abdomen. He let out a gasp of his own from the crass of her soft skin on his.

He let his own free hand move over her breasts and up to her wings, where he let the tip of his finger trace along the delicate iridescence. Her response was instant. Her back arched, and her hips moved against him. His cock hardened, and he was sure she felt it because the grip she had on his waist tightened with every rock of her hips.

Her lips broke from his and her head threw back while his fingers moved gingerly along every line of her wings.

"Johnny," she whimpered. "Oh God."

"I want you Megan," He groaned. "Dammit, I want you."

She increased her movement against him and his head dipped down to place heated kissed on her neck.

"Johnny," she moaned as her hand moved further under his shirt until it reached his chest.

Ding

The sound of the elevator reaching the first floor of the house carried into the kitchen. Johnny's lips left Megan's neck, and he jumped off of her quickly. When his foot hit the tile floor, he felt himself slipping on a puddle of water before he could stop himself. One of Megan's legs was still hooked around him, and she came toppling down to the floor with him. His head hit the cabinet with a thud, and Megan fell into his arms.

"Ouch," He groaned, reaching his hand up to his head.

Megan laughed and brought her own hand up to his head. "You okay?"

"What happened here?" Reed asked, coming around the corner.

Sue peaked around him, a smirk forming on her lips.

"We just slipped," Megan giggled.

"Yeah," Johnny agreed with her with his own giggling. "We slipped."

"Why didn't you have H.E.R.B.I.E. cook dinner?" Reed asked.

“Hey.” Christian doesn’t nudge him, doesn’t press the tip of his foot to Toto’s, but he wants to. “You alright?”

𖤐𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚡𖤐

PLEASE READ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒗𝒆 ~ Ronnie’s POV and 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒗𝒆 ~ J.D.’s POV BEFORE READING THIS!

All I ever seem to do is wait. When I was alive I waited for many things. For my dad’s work we moved around a lot, every six weeks really, and in that time I learned being proactive in life was nothing more than a waste that would lead to perpetual disappointment and heart ache. Nobody with a functioning head could choose that fate for themselves. So instead I always waited for it all to be over so I could move onto the next thing. There was always a next thing. A next place, no constant and no escape from the inevitable friction. Every day I waited on my dad at Sears to get what he needed for a day of work, with questionable IDs to boot…My dad was far from a moral man, especially when it came between him, a 80 pound bag of fertilizer, diesel fuel, and his work. Not that I grew to mind in the end. You get used to everything that used to weight you down until the weight begins to feel weightless.

I waited on my mom to come back to me. Last time I saw her she was waving out a window of a library in Texas. I waited until I could’ve joined her in the beyond, though now I can’t help but wonder where she is now…Heaven, Hell, somewhere in the between. I hope it was worth the permanent leave of absence in my life in the end, wherever she is now. That’s the thing when your life is nothing more than static, you’re always waiting for it to begin.

I died knowing I wasn’t ever truly alive, until the end of it.

I thought death would finally be my beginning, the beginning of the end. But, there is no ending and there’s no beginning. There’s just waiting. I waited for change in life, I wait for change in death. Existence is a waiting room where they never call your name. I had the power to change things in life and I squandered it for nothing. For waiting when the world and society at large would decide it was time for me to be proactive. I never accomplished anything, never left a mark, never made a sound. I’m forlorn, I’m melancholic, I’m the whisper everyone thinks they hear but promptly ignore as merely just hearing things. I feel the dulling of my bones, the glaze of boredom over my eyes, a face even more lacking in life than before.

And yet I keep waiting for what else is there to do with infinite time?

At least now I’m waiting for something I can believe in. As long as her injuries don’t serve too bad Ronnie should be back at school on Monday and I’ve been waiting rather patiently for her return seeing as I can’t visit her in the hospital now can I? The mere thought of her sitting alone in a hospital bed saddens me. I imagine she could use the company. Even if I may be partially responsible for her head injury I doubt she’s particularly mad about it. It’s been a day or so now which should be plenty of time to let off steam after our failed night or passion. I’m sure she’s as ready as I am to see her again…

Now that Monday has come and gone I presume the injury in question was in fact worse than I suspected since she hasn’t come in for school today which doesn’t appear to be like her. I don’t see any other reason why she would be cutting today unless it was necessary for her health. If so, I don’t mind waiting another day as she has to wait for me. Though it’s certainly not impossible she may be trying to avoid Heather’s wrath after their party confrontation in which I don’t know the details of besides that it left Ronnie wasted and in need of comfort. All the concern over something as frivolous as popularity capital is so usual of teens. High school feels like forever until you remember how temporary it all is in the end. Whatever Ronnie did Heather likely deserved given what I’ve observed of her attitude thus far anyway. Some people need to be knocked down a peg before they make life even worse for the average person…

So, I see now that it’s Tuesday that Ronnie may be avoiding me on purpose. When she walked in through the front door this morning I was waiting for her there and I could’ve sworn she made eye contact with me and immediately bolted away. Similarly before class today when I waved at her she didn’t wave back at me, instead opting to act like I wasn’t even there. I watched her for the rest of our class, what else would I even do? There’s no point in going to class if I’m not watching or talking with her. She continued to act like she didn’t see me. Unless that head injury turned her brilliant mind to head juice and robbed her of whatever paranormal prowess she possesses then it seems rather intentional to me.

Ok, point taken. You’re mad at me. I get it. Was the childish temper tantrum really necessary? Is it good for you to give a ghost the silent treatment knowing he has nobody else to talk to? Well, I can say for certain it sucks for me. I don’t know what your problem is with me right now. Look, it was an accident. What? You know I didn’t tell you about my…condition because I knew you wouldn’t believe me. That you’d run away screaming and crying “ghost!” and you have more potential than that. Petulance isn’t a good look on you.

Just say something. Anything at all that proves I’m still here to you…

In spite of my better judgment and knowing it seems she likely wants nothing to do with me I decided to remain a fly on the wall in the cafeteria, standing on one of the back walls with my hands clasped in front of me as I watched the typical mundane cafeteria carnage. Ronnie was standing in the center of the cafeteria looking conflicted and out of place, like she didn’t know where to sit or where she belonged among the cliques of people who’ve defined themselves by a singular label she’s so clearly above. She looks over at Martha Dunnstock’s table, empty without her keeping the friend she abandoned for bigger opportunity company. Around said table were a bunch of students watching a video on their phone. What video, who’s to say I couldn’t quite see…But it didn’t take much assumption to guess it had to do with Dunnstock since both looked so sad over all the laughter.

Ronnie just stands there, doesn’t say anything in her pacifism before taking a deep breath and approaching the Heathers’ table. Now, anyone with a sense of self-preservation would know better than to grovel for their attention. She just freed herself from the charade, called for freedom in the dictatorship itself and now what? Wants to go back on her word? Why? For security? Comfort? Privilege? Nobody who remains comfortable ever contributes anything to the world. Nobody who waits for someone to start ever gets started. Bowing and begging doesn’t stop her, it just guarantees a ticket to humiliation and a seat in the fall. Surely, she’s better than that like I think she obviously is…

“Hey…”

Evidently not it seems then…

Ronnie tried to sit on the end of the table closest to her but Heather Duke scooted over into the seat instead, her eyebrows were furrowed and it was rather evident she didn’t want Ronnie to sit down with them. Oh well, it isn’t too late to turn back now…

“Ronnie, who said you could sit with us?” Heather wasn’t even looking at her. No, she was looking at her nails like they were more important to her than the person speaking in front of her was, which they likely were to her.

“I’m sorry, what? You did. Remember?” She shrugged, looking away from Heather and towards another side of the cafeteria.

“I actually said your invitation to the lunch table would be revoked starting on Monday, remember?”

“Come on, Heather don’t be ridiculous. We both said things that night we didn’t mean.”

“Did we?” She tilted her head slowly, as if to worsen the load and narrowed her eyes.

“Uh, huh. I came here to apologize.” Ronnie nodded with her shoulders tense, her lack of comfort clear as day for everyone to see. “And I bring lunch as a peace offering.” She bowed, holding her tray out in front of her.

Now why would you do that? Bowing gives Heather all the power in this situation. You’re clearly playing into the enemy’s hand, making it easier to strike. If someone so obviously sets up a bear trap you don’t walk right into it! If you want to sell your dignity for power, fine! But, don’t be surprised when the apex predator bears her claws and strikes you next. People like Heather are snakes in the grass. They can’t be trusted to have your best interests at heart…

“I’d prefer if you did this on your knees, in front of the whole school.” I turn my head and let my arms dangle loosely to the side as Heather smirked a nasty and cruel expression at the girl I knew far too well by now. She already knew she won.

Ronnie forces a smile, trying to play the whole thing off even if Heather was certainly serious about this attempt to degrade her in front of her classmates. “Anyhow, I’m really sorry.” She says quietly with her head down. She looked so docile, so easy to persuade. It was sickening to me to witness Heather abuse her power like this and get away with it…Which I know with no doubt she will.

One last chance, what’s it gonna be?

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” She leaned closer, all the humor draining from her voice as it takes a turn toward the serious. “Down.” She growled and pointed downward on the floor, there was no missing the instructions.

I turn away from the scene to face the wall, not wanting to witness the humiliation at hand. I oughta spare her what little dignity I can in these circumstances, though it’s not very much in the slightest. While I don’t know for sure if Ronnie bowed to Heather, hearing what she said next said enough for me:

“Nice. But, you’re still dead to me.”

My hand clenches into a fist, unseen by everyone in sight.

“I’m sure the loser nerd table is looking for more people, Ronnie. Don’t fall and hit your head again, sweetie.”

I hear Ronnie run out of the cafeteria sniffling, still frozen in place before turning around and watching how everyone moves on in a flash, back to eating and talking amongst themselves like the pigs they all really are under the facade of flesh. She doesn’t matter to them, she never did. Her pain is a spectacle, rotten entertainment to fill the emptiness in their soul while she cries away her life in solitude. Well, I sure do hope the laugh was worth it.

I should know better than to follow her right now, but if I don’t then nobody else will. Not even Heather McNamara would run into the line of fire at risk of being burned. She needs someone to wipe away her tears, someone to listen, someone to wait for her.

If I wait for her to be ready for me then I’ll have to wait the entire semester and frankly, I don’t want to have to wait for her any longer.

I follow her into the girl’s bathroom once again, dreadful etiquette, I know. At least the bathroom appears to be empty. God knows why she keeps retreating from all the noise in the outside world into this dirty space. Though I can’t say I blame her for wanting the privacy. Even if it often puts me in the weirdest circumstances to want to follow her to make sure she’s ok. Some days I find myself wondering how I don’t do the same thing more than I already do. I suppose the fact that nobody sees me is a factor. It’s not like anyone would care enough to want to bother me on purpose anymore. I walk among the stalls for any sign of life before I hear sniffling and see an all too familiar pair of loafers under the stall door farthest from the exit. I smile fondly to myself.

“You know, bowing to the enemy only proves your own submission to her rule.” I say dryly before turning my head with furrowed brows. “I thought you were done with Heather.”

“And I thought I knew you, guess we both thought wrong…” She responds between tears, the venom no less evident in her voice however.

I look back and forth between the stall and the front door, already regretting my life decision to intrude. There really was no reason for her to continue to be difficult in this state. I click my tongue in thought before continuing on as before:

“Ok. You’re mad I didn’t tell you about my affliction.” I put my hands out in front of me in quotation marks teasingly. “I get it.”

“I don’t think you do. Just leave me alone, J.D. Besides, you’ll get caught standing in the girls bathroom like this.”

I freeze in place and my face drops. Still not buying my attempt to put this little thing behind us, I see. I roll my eyes and look up at the sky before my eyes make their way back down to where she’s sitting just behind the stall door.

“And leave you alone here crying?” I lean closer, hands behind my back with a confused expression before I sit down on the ground in front of the stall, back pressed against the door. “Guess you really don’t know me at all then. Oh, and believe me getting caught won’t be a problem for me.” I tilt and shake my head with a smile.

“Right how can I forget you’re…whatever you are…”

“I’m dead, Sawyer. Does that give you the satisfaction you want to hear aloud?” I said dryly as I prop my hand up on my knee lazily.

It’s just two little words and yet they’ve held so much power over me all these years. I said it to her like I’ve said them a million times when in truth I’ve never had to say it aloud before. Even in 30 years in this place it never feels truly real, more so like a nightmare I’ve yet to wake up from. But, I’m far from oblivious of the reality of my situation and how hopeless it all actually is.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She sounded so fragile, so sad, I wanted to wipe away whatever tears were likely falling from her face as we spoke. It carved open my empty heart to hear that sound from her.

“I can’t say for sure but, you are still talking to me and I’ll take what I can get.”

“For how long?”

“36 years give or take,” I cringed as I tilted my head and gestured with my hand out in front of me. “It starts to get blurry.”

“Jesus, and I thought high school was bad for us.” My face is non flinching, instead staring at the sinks in front of me apathetically to not sink myself. “Can our other classmates-”

“To my knowledge it’s just you.” I interrupted her, I didn’t need to hear the rest for I already knew what she was about to say.

I’ve yet to meet another peer who can see me, they all seem to walk past me or in some particularly nasty incidents walk through me…

“Do you have any family left here?”

“I don’t know. My dad owned a deconstruction company in the 80s. Seems the old man liked tearing things down.” I look down at my fidgeting hands. “You seen the commercial?” I suddenly burst out into my best impression of my dad, in all his toxic, Texan, glory: “‘I’m Big Bud Dean if it’s in the way I’ll make your day!’” My hand curls up into a fist as I take a swing and punch the air with much enthusiasm for the semi-psychotic’s shit.

“RIGHT! And then he pushes down on the plunger and the screen blows up!” She laughs. “That’s your dad? God, I saw that commercial all the time on my parents’ old VHS tapes! I didn’t know Big Bud had another son!”

While she recites my dad’s commercial from memory I stare off into space as I often do when considering the topic of the bastard, my tongue doing a swipe from one cheek to the other before I blink and readjust, something about that last part finally registering in my brain.

“Another?”

“Well, yeah. He left the business in the family, gave it to his first son. Didn’t know he had a brother is all.”

I don’t move for a long time, feeling frozen and small.

Huh, you know I really don’t know what I would’ve expected. He used to tell me all the time how he could replace me if he wanted to, guess I never thought the old man actually would. Maybe I had hoped that out there somewhere he was actually grieving me when I always knew he probably didn’t. He never grieved Mom either, instead moving on to the next place and the next place. I don’t know why I ever wanted to believe otherwise. That for once in his fucking life he stopped moving and maybe regretted everything, regretted that he never looked me in the eye with love, only with hate for the nuisance I always was. That in his work, even on those Sears runs we could’ve bonded. That he could’ve been a dad instead of an employer. That he gave up and turned his back on the person who needed him most and raised him to be self-sufficient above all else. That if maybe he did even one thing differently things didn’t have to be like this…

Instead he found a new shiny wife and a new shiny son and kept doing the same thing as he always did, left us all behind in the past for dead. A memory to be forgotten.

I hope his perfect son I could never be is happier than I will ever be. And I hope he rots in hell with the father that never cared for continuing the cycle that only slides our world into worse ruin day by day.

“So, I see…Nice to know my old man held true to his word. He always could make another son anytime he wants…He replaced me.”

“J.D. I’m so…”

“It’s ok.” I respond flatly before she can get another word in. I don’t need her pity, it only makes me feel more vile than I already do as it is. “The pain gives me clarity.”

If adversity builds character I must have quite the character. Nothing makes you see the world for what it is, warts and grime and all more than pain. Pain is what brings the world back into focus with a sharp dose of reality to the gut.

“If this place sucks so much why don’t you leave like the rest of us? Travel the world? Nothing’s keeping you here.”

“Believe me when I say I’ve tried.” I rolled my eyes. “It was the winter of 89, I had just woken up from my eternal slumber and already wanted to leave. No point in staying, you know.” I shrugged. “So, I walked within a couple steps of the exit before being brought back down to where I died.” I moved my fingers up and down in a walking motion. “I tried again to no avail too. Every exit, even going out through the windows. I can’t leave. Nobody can see me. I’m alone.”

“Well…I guess that makes two of us.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore.” I look down, resting my head on my knees. I never even wanted to fight in the first place as it was.

“Don’t give me that.” She sighs. “Can we just-sit here in silence for a bit please before I regret accepting your apology?”

“Fine by me.”

And there we sat, in the silence of our own making. Alone but not really for we did have each other for company in that quiet. Sure, we were feeling different things at the end of the day. But, there certainly is something about that feeling in the air. Knowing it’s something far beyond description, outside that it was the two of us and that’s all that it needed to be. All that I’ll ever need.

Eventually all good things must come to a temporary halt and Ronnie had to go back to class. By the afternoon things seemed to be a bit better between us than before as we were sitting in one of my favorite stairwells together and talking amongst ourselves like nothing happened. It was a relief to find this really was all just a minor inconvenience to be overcome so things could go back to normal as they should be. As we were sitting there Heather Mac and her squad of overly bubbly and enthusiastic cheerleaders passed us by to go into the gym.

My eyebrows quirked up and I pressed my tongue to the inside of my cheek in surprise. “What’s with all the pom poms?”

“Cheer practice,” Ronnie rolls her eyes before resting her hands on her knees. “Big pep rally Friday night.” Her eyes widen in an attempt at faux innocence as she pitches her voice up and shrinks into herself sweetly. “GO ROTTWEILERS! GO TO HELL GO TO HELL NOW!” She smiles at me teasingly.

I smirk at her charade and tilt my head down before turning back to face her. “Not a bad impression.”

“Oh, not a big pep rally person, huh?” She gently tries to punch where my arm should be, leaving just barely enough room to not disrupt my form again. A much appreciated gesture.

“I’m more of a sit in solitude in the library man myself.” I lean closer to her fondly. “Believe me, there’s nothing to be cheerful about here at Westerberg.”

“Heather’s doing a speech for it. Heather’s been telling her she should ‘rehearse more,’” She puts her hands up in quotation marks. “But, you know Heather. God, she thinks she’s invincible. What I wouldn’t give to wipe that smug look off her face. Would be a shame if something went wrong at the pep rally.”

I narrow my eyes and find myself looking back at the gym door, thinking about what she said intently. How much of a shame would it really be for Heather to get her just desert after all she’s done to terrorize Ronnie and the school at large? There’s been a distinct lack of justice being served at Westerberg, sometimes comeuppance is necessary to truly change things for the better. Heather only stays in power through fear, in knowing nobody will challenge her authority. Throw a little chaos into order and the order falls apart at the seams, torn by the people who sewed it. People always do reap what they sow…

“Yeah, real shame indeed…”

“Maybe if we’re lucky she’ll fall in her heels or as my revenge I can replace her queue cards with something out of Cards Against Humanity. Now that’ll embarrass her in front of the whole school!” She tilts her head to face me more clearly. “People pull out their phones and bam!” She gestures an explosion with her hands. “All over the internet by Saturday! Or better yet she just drops dead!” She laughs awkwardly before her face falls from exhaustion and frustration as she lays her head down on the stairs carefully not to furtherly exacerbate her injuries.

I lay down beside her, thinking aloud knowing it’ll be heard without judgment. “Heather Chandler…now that’s one person at this school who really deserves to die.”

“Right like anyone could actually do anything to Heather. You’re a ghost, J.D. You aren’t human anymore you can’t interfere with us living guys.” She snarks back with a smile and a flippant hand wave away.

I stare at the ceiling again, thinking about what she said. I suppose there is merit to it. Ghosts don’t affect things the way living people do, in that regard there’s really not much I can do in all this. But, everytime I think about doing nothing I see Ronnie’s crying face in my mind and realize that I can’t just wait for things to blow over like she might expect me to.

“Hey, Earth to J.D.” Ronnie suddenly waves her hand in front of my face so I would regain my focus on her. I blink to readjust and ground myself in the moment before looking back over at her. “Forget it. You can’t be serious, nobody deserves to die, you know that…” She laughs half-heartedly before growing serious again. “Right?”

“They don’t?” I tilt my head, looking for an honest answer from her, not an answer society expects her to say. The true answer in her soul.

So many people say things they don’t really mean because it’s easier than telling the truth. It upholds the balance, keeps the world moving smoothly. If you say anything that upsets that balance it’s assumed it should be disregarded. They program the thought into your head of how things should be, what’s moral and just. Morality is relative, a scale people have decided on by what makes them feel bad inside. Comfort over true morality first and foremost. Murder is wrong because they say it is, when sometimes it’s the only thing that sets our broken world back into place. If anyone is capable of seeing past the pretty facade of peace at the cost of thinly veiled rot, it’s her.

“You’re not funny.” She smiles before crossing her arms and pouting overdramatically. Seemingly so “offended” by my statement without outright rejecting it all together. It’s ok, she’s lying to herself and not ready to admit yet. I see how it is and I can wait til she sees things more clearly.

“Alright,” I put my hands up defensively before turning back over and grinning at her. “I’m sorry.”

I leans closer to kiss her, if only I actually could. In that fraction of a second the space between our experiences and what we are has never felt wider and yet so small to me.

“Do you think it’ll be ok?” Ronnie asks me before nodding, her eyes looking away from me as if the question alone is too much for her to handle the answer to. “Like in the end by graduation and shit…” She tries to hide it behind another attempt at humor but, I can see the fear in her eyes.

She’s scared, I’ve been there. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared right now laying beside her. It was as if I was sitting next to an angel in Hell and yet nothing has ever felt more beautiful.

“I hope so.”

READ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒙 ~ Ronnie’s POV HERE!