#devon bostick

"...right, Greg?"

"Huh? Uh, Yeah!" His head quickly turned to a smiling Rowley. He nodded in agreement to whatever his best friend asked him, which was probably about summer break or something. His sight reeling back to the teen girl plopped on the sofa.

Rodrick would never believe this....

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Sounds of laughter echoed through the Heffleys as Greg stood by Rodrick's room, looking at his older brother like he was some kind of hollering crackhead by the Kwik-4-U Mart.

Rodrick got up off the floor after laughing maniacally, "That's just ridiculous, lil' bro," He patted Greg's shoulder as he crouched down to his eye level, "everybody knows no one in this boring town's hotter than Heather Hills. You should really get your eyes checked,"

He stood and passed by Greg, drumsticks in hand, "or maybe the baby hippo's weirdness is starting to rub off on you?" Laughing as he walked down the stairs, earning a sigh and eye roll from Greg.

💋

It was the last day of school before summer break at Westmore Middle School. Every student was all trying to make the other sign their yearbooks.

The school was soon in your peripheral vision as you catch a glimpse of your younger brother talking to a blonde girl with his friend.

With the hoard of middle schoolers on your way and occupied parking spaces, you opted to park your car next to a creepy white van. As you got out of your car, the big Löded Diper painted on the van's side put you to a stop, "What the hell is a Löded Diper?" removing your shades for a brief second as you looked at the van in judgement.

Students parted like the red sea, head turning as you walked by, heels clicking on the pavement. This town really was nowhere near the big city of New York, and that was what you loved about Plainview. It was quieter and slower. After your persistent asking, begging, and listing reasons why you should move back to Plainview, your parents finally decided to agree. They didn't want you to leave New York City, as for them, it is a city full of big big opportunities.

They weren't wrong. But for you, New York is also a city full of big big rats. They should've seen the rat you found at your apartment last month! OR the rats you go to classes with!

You now saw your brother again with Greg but the blonde girl was nowhere to be seen, a boy your age with messy hair was there instead. Though he seems to be in pain as he was clutching his right foot.

"Y/N!" Rowley excitedly waved at you as he saw you walking towards them. Making the other two turn their heads towards you. There you were in your plaid miniskirt and white tank bedazzled with the word "Angel" on it, juicy couture bag on your shoulder.

Rodrick swore you were an angel sent to him by the Gods while Greg swore he was about to vomit 'cause his brother had weird disgusting heart eyes and a dopey smile.

"Ew." Greg whispered to himself, grimacing in disgust. The look on his brother's face really nearly made him vomit.

Walking past the two boys, cutting Rodrick's dazed stare. You quickly sidehugged your brother and ruffled his hair, "How's school?"

"It was fun! We signed each other's yearbooks today!" You nodded at Rowley with a smile as you diverted your attention to Greg.

"Hey Greg! You coming over again tomorrow?"

"Maybe anothe—"

"Yes!" The messy haired teen quickly cut off Greg and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Greg here will be there tomorrow with me."

"What?!" Greg frowned, "Rodrick you've never—"

"Mom said I should come with you tomorrow for us to bond"

"She did no—" Rodrick smiled at you and quickly put a hand over Greg's mouth before he said anything any further. Greg slapped his hand away in disgust and muttered something about Rodrick needing to wash his hands.

You turned to the boy your age with flyers on his hand, pointing your head towards Rodrick, "He a friend of yours too, Rowley?"

"Uhh..He's Greg's Brother..." Rowley said, looking a bit terrified which made you squint in curiosity.

You turned your attention back to the boy, raising your eyebrow as you looked at him up and down, your eye caught the words written on his shirt. You chuckled in amusement as you crossed your arms at him, "Löded Diper?"

"Uh, yeah," Rodrick smirked at you trying to act cool, "I'm the drummer. You know, we played so loud once that we made someone's ear bleed,"

A weird band name with an even weirder drummer..

"Uhm, okayy," Scrunching your face in disgust but nodding your head either way, "Let's go Rowley,"

"Wait! I mean, not literally!" Rodrick quickly defended himself after his lousy attempt of flirting.

"Bye Greg!"

Greg returned Rowley's wave as he faced Rodrick, "You should really stop telling girls that, Rodrick. It's kinda disgusting."

"Shut up butt face!" Rodrick exclaimed, smacking Greg in the face with a handful of flyers, "She's just trying to play hard to get," He murmured.

☀️

First day of summer vacation and Greg is starting his first day—with playing Twisted Warlock all afternoon.

He had everything perfectly planned for summer including making sure that his dad won't know about him playing video games all day. Clearly, his perfect plan was flawed and failed miserably based on what he told Rowley. He told him everything. From his 'totally not flawed' plan to his and his dad's plans for the weekend. Rowley didn't understand why Greg was upset about spending time with his dad this summer, but nonetheless, he still tried his best to comfort his best friend.

While Greg and Rowley chatted away, Rodrick has also been chatting (more like flirting) with you from the moment him and Greg came over. He's been telling you about how his band is going to have their big break soon and not-so-subtly asking you out this summer.

And you're not mean enough to say no to him. I mean, sure he was kinda weird but to be honest, he also is kinda cute.

"Sure"

"You– I– What?" Rodrick was taken back by your smile and calm demeanor, expecting an eye roll or turning him down or something meaner like every other girl he took interest in.

"I'll hang out with you this summer."

Rodrick chuckled and internally pumped his fist in celebration, mind running wild as he thought of all the places he could take you on a date with. He had a 30-minute shower and drowned himself with perfume for nothing!

Your parents won't be back until later from their date night so you were the one who would be cooking dinner tonight. Living with an aunt who is a professional chef for a while definitely had it's perks as you successfully made dinner without setting the house on fire. Rodrick helped set the table as you finished cooking.

"Dinner's ready!"

After a while, the four of you finished dinner. Rodrick immediately stood up grabbing the remaining plates as he saw you about to take plates from the table to wash, "I'll help you with that"

Greg looked at him weirdly as this was very out of character for his older brother. Rodrick insisting on helping with chores? Heck, Rodrick back home would've acted like he was allergic to chores or something! Seeing his brother insist on helping with chores felt real weird for Greg. Did he hit his head?

Rodrick didn't notice Greg's weird stare as he went after you to the sink.

"So uhh how'd you get Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson's permission?"

You briefly looked at him in confusion as you continue to wash the dishes, "Huh?"

"Your piercings I mean," Rodrick pointed to his lip, "They don't seem to be the type to, you know, allow their children to have piercings, especially at our age."

"Oh! uhm, I kinda didn't ask them?" You chuckled, placing the last plate by Rodrick's to dry off, leaning back on the sink as you watched him dry the dishes, "I got this pierced by a friend back in New York. They definitely didn't take it well though, lost my car privileges for this. New York subways are literal fever dreams!"

Rodrick laughed, "You should definitely help me get in touch with that friend of yours."

"You definitely do not want to lose your van and band privileges for this, Rodrick." You shook your head as you laughed, earning a shrug from him, "Piercings would look nice on you though."

It was time for the Heffleys to go home. You and Rowley followed them to the porch to bid your goodbyes.

"See you again soon, y/n" Rodrick smiled but soon faltered as you stood silently, looking at him like he forgot something. He laughed nervously, "What?"

"Say Heffley, how exactly would you contact me?"

"Right! I knew I forgot something!" He slapped a hand on his forehead, scrambling to find a pen from his pockets. You popped open your glitter pen as you reached for Rodrick's hand which was feeling his pockets for a pen. Rodrick admired you as you were so focused on writing down your number on his clammy palm.

Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, Greg was right. You definitely were a lot better than Heather Hills who won't touch him with a 10 foot pole even if it meant scoring a date with Justin Bieber.

"There!" You two looked at the slightly smudged numbers at his palm, "Call me soon"

"I will"

It was absolutely going to be one hell of a summer vacation for Rodrick.

previous part / next part

Arms folded across his chest as his eyes darted to the clock every 30 seconds, anxiously anticipating your arrival. When a rush of people started to flood in, he was on the tips of his feet, trying to spot a glimpse of anything that could remotely resemble you.

Scolded by his mother to remain patient, his eyes snapped to her with a prominent frown settled on his lips, his attention diverted long enough for something — or rather someone — to crash against him. He lost his breath, the wind being entirely knocked out of him. Finally regaining his senses, he found you snuggly tucked against his chest, clutching onto him with a smile on your lips.

He breathed out your name in a soft sigh, burying his face into your hair as he kept you wrapped in his arms. There were conversations around him, other family members engaging and reuniting but all their words fell on deaf ears with you in his arms. He couldn’t even remember if he’d ever hugged you this long before, or if he had ever even hugged you were you were kids. But now he was intoxicated by you; your perfume, the same old shampoo that brought such a sense of comfort and familiarity that it made his heart ache.

“Roddy.” Your voice was soft. Just as soft as he had remembered, almost causing him to crumble at your feet. And that damned nickname he used to hate and whine about you calling him. But now it felt like heaven to hear again, like everything he missed while you were gone was sewing back up. When had he ever been this soft? For anyone? You had every wall breaking in a matter of moments.

You finally managed to separate yourselves, not quite all the way yet. Your hands stayed on his arms, his hands on your waist, as you leaned back just far enough to take him in, finally getting a look at him after so many years apart. He was almost (totally and completely) stunned.

When’d you get so…

You were torn from his arms, getting greeted by Susan and Frank instead. He watched his mom hug you, gushing over how much you’d grown. Doing the standard grown up routine where they tell you the last time they saw you, you were about ‘yay’ high with vague inaccurate gestures to how tall you really were. You really had grown. Unfortunately, Rodrick didn’t give a shit about your height. When’d you become a stunner?

After mildly dazed greetings to your parents and little brother, he finally returned to you. He was staring, which he could easily excuse as ‘it’s been so long since i’ve seen you’ rather than admit he didn’t remember you being so damn pretty.

“How have you been, Rod?” you asked, and he nearly melted again. You were sweeter than he remembered too. Maybe he had been a bad influence on you back when you were kids. He almost felt guilty. Almost. But nothing would replace every moment with you.

“Same old. Still as cool as ever,” he said, attempting some sort of badass bravado but ultimately failing as he missed the pole he was trying to lean back on, nearly toppling over. The giggle that followed from your lips almost made him wish he had fallen over just so he’d heard that sound for longer.

“Clearly,” you teased, lips curling into a playful smirk. He swooned. Every word from your lips, every syllable scratched an itch in his brain that’d bugged him for years without you. He forgot how good you made him feel. There was existing and then there was what he felt with you; liveliness, a rush of adrenaline, a safe place. How’d he go so long without you?

“You grew up,” he pointed out, taking a moment to look you over without seeming like there was any intention behind it, though all he wanted to do was admire you. He didn’t care about art, but you seemed like a damn masterpiece in his eyes, all hell to any cliche about how cheesy that’d be to admit. You were gorgeous.

“So did you,” you mimicked, scanning him from head to toe. “Finally had your growth spurt?” you teased, earning a smile from him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, shorty,” he retorted, not an ounce of malice behind his words. You laughed and he found himself doing the same, unmistakably enamored by such a warm, sweet sound coming from your lips he took for granted when you were kids.

You shoulder bumped against his as you walked to the car, already talking like you’d never been apart. You stumbled as you walked, too busy laughing to be watching your footing, which gave him the perfect opportunity to grab onto your arm to keep you upright. He’d held you like that before, pulling your arm along to drag you with him when you were younger, but now his skin felt on fire at the contact, sending sparks through his skin.

You climbed into the very back seats of the car beside Rodrick and his little brother, Greg. The rest of your family took the middle row of seats and his parents took the front, the car essentially packed to the brim. And terribly noisy. Everyone was still catching up, laughs erupting from every row of the car, especially from you and Rodrick who were nearly tossing around with laughter, earning looks from Greg. Which only ended up in Rodrick and Greg fighting, leaving you to watch with an amused and affectionate smile. They hadn’t changed.

The car pulled to a stop in the Heffley’s driveway. With you beside him, he could’ve sworn it was 6 years ago all over again. The two of you coming home from school or the park, or the movie.. and then he was lost again, too caught up in memories to notice when you climbed out of the car.

“Coming, Roddy?” That familiar sweet voice asked and he was quick to follow it like a siren’s song, beckoning to him and pulling him in. He helped you with your bags, attempting to appear somewhat strong around you and possibly a gentleman? Whatever got your attention was fine with him.

He led you to his room, a proud smirk on his lips when he noticed your astonished look at how damn clean it was in contrast to everything you ever once knew.

“Who are you?” you teased, eyes scanning the uncharacteristically tidy room.

“I’m a new man,” he joked back, setting your bag on the floor.

“Then where’s my Rodrick?” you asked, taking backwards steps towards his bed so your eyes would stay on his. “Because he would never let this atrocity slide.” You collapsed onto his bed, bouncing back against the mattress as you lied on your back. All he could do was watch for a moment, hypnotized by how something so mundane could still make you look ethereal.

“Right here,” he replied, following you towards the bed. He flopped onto the space beside you, putting his hands behind his head.

“What’d I miss while I was away?” you asked curiously, turning on your side to face him. His head tilted to the side to meet your gaze, feeling the same magnetic pull all over again.

“Where do I start?” he mused. It almost sounded like he had matured a bit. That scandalous, teenage dirtbag of a boy you once knew finally grew up (hardly the truth).

“Greg got the cheese touch,” he said, a smile pulling at the corners of my lips. Your eyes widened a bit. You’d forgotten all about that.

“Jesus, that’s still around?” you laughed, your smile starting to mirror his.

“It was,” he corrected. “Long story but it’s been dragged away from us. And it’s off the blacktop. Stain’s still there though,” he explained, his eyes flickering between yours.

“Such a sacred thing, thrown away,” you tsked, shaking your head in mock disappointment, earning a small chuckle from him.

“Greg was in the school play too,” he recalled, shifting to lie on his side, facing you. The laugh that escaped your lips made him desperate to hear it again.

“How’d that go?” you asked, voice laced with humor and amusement.

“Like shit,” he answered. “He got into a fight with a girl… and the dumb shit lost.”

Both of you fell into laughter. He watched your eyes squeeze shut, nose slightly scrunching up, lips curled into a smile as your giggles filled the space between you. He could stare at you all day and never get tired of the sight. He felt flutters in his stomach, a feeling he’d only ever felt around Heather Hills or some other girl he was pining after you. But you…? He’d never once dared think about you that way. But your sweet voice, warm laugh, soft eyes, every imperfection, every line, mark, scar, anything. You topped any other girl he’s seen before. He could still see the remnants of the little kid he once knew in your smile, in your eyes, but you had grown. And so had he. And now something was stirring inside him that refused to be put to rest. And he really didn’t want the feeling to go away.

“Anything else I should know about?” you asked with raised eyebrows, wishing you could’ve been there through it all.

“I threw a party,” he started, a subtle smirk appearing on my lips. “Nearly everyone was there.”

“I must’ve missed the invite,” you sighed. He almost felt guilty and he might’ve if you hadn’t let a smile follow your words.

“My parents and Manny were out for the weekend, or they were supposed to be,” he explained with an eye roll. “The house was trashed and me and Greg had to pick it up in under an hour. We ended up having to replace the bathroom door,” his words broke up with a bit of laughter, triggering a laugh of your own. “The door we replaced it with didn’t have a lock and I nearly convinced mom of it.”

“You got caught, didn’t you?” you teased.

“I’m an excellent liar,” he defended. “Terrible at deleting camera footage though,” he added. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, shaking your head in amusement.

“There’s the idiot,” you taunted.

“Missed me, huh?”

“More than you know.”

The rest of the night was essentially the same. Your families ate dinner together — bringing back memories of the countless number of times you ate Susan’s cooking to be with Rodrick — and managed to sit through a movie together with a few disruptions from Manny followed by groans of annoyance from the two older brothers and your laughter.

As the end credits of the movie rolled, your parents headed to the guest room followed by your little brother. Susan and Frank retired to their rooms, putting Manny down and sending Greg off to bed. You and Rodrick made your way to his room, surrounded by a comfortable air of silence.

“I can take the couch,” he offered again. “Or the floor. I can sleep anywhere.” You laughed and nudged him to shut him up.

“We’ve split a bed before, Rodrick,” you teased. Not when I felt like this, he thought, his eyes following you as he saw you sit down on his bed. “I’ve dealt with your drool before.” He groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and I’ve dealt with your snoring,” he shot back, collapsing on the bed beside you.

“I do not snore!” you protested, gasping in mock offense.

“Do too!” he argued back, the childish banter making him feel more at home that he had in years. More than he had since you left.

“Yeah, well, at least I don’t leave a wet patch on the pillow every night,” you countered, trying to hide the grin on your lips.

“That’s why there’s two sides to the pillow,” he defended.

“Gross!” you cried out, your words mixing in with your laughter. Everything in him softened and melted at the sound. How were you doing this to him? Reducing him to a puddle of affection for you.

He launched towards you and pulled you down, wrestling against you. His arms locked tightly around your waist, pressing you against him just so he could hold you. You gasped and squirmed against him, in a fit of laughter. That sound so close to his ear had his mind in a maelstrom, never wanting the noise to end.

Eventually you relaxed in his arms, exhausted from travel. You ended up a tangled mess of limbs as you laid wrapped up in each other’s arms. Silence fell over you and turned into nothing but your soft, steady breaths. He watched with undeniable amounts of affection in his eyes. Your eyelashes against your cheek, the peaceful expression on your features. He would drown in you if he could, swim in your ocean, be stranded without a chance of being saved. He was helpless.

Notorious for sleeping, Rodrick slept most of the morning away, you wrapped up in his arms, never moving from the position you fell asleep in. He was more content than he had been in years, surrounded by the warmth you brought, leaving him in pure bliss. The room stayed dark as minutes turned into hours, never a disturbance in either of your slumbers.

Well… until there was a bang on the door, startling you both into consciousness.

“Mom said get your lazy butts out of bed!” Greg called from the other side of the door.

“Greg Heffley!” Susan scolded, earning a scoff from Greg followed by the patter of his feet walking up the stairs and away from the door. Rodrick grumbled under his breath and you let out a quiet huff of a laugh. You slowly separated, untangling yourselves. He collapsed back against the pillow, reluctant to leave the comfort of his bed. You pushed yourself up, eyes still on his form. His shirt rode up a bit. Something so insignificant and mundane that it shouldn’t matter but it’s where your eyes seemed to land for a moment.

“You heard the boy. We have to get up,” you reminded, gently pulling on his arm to get him up. He mumbled into his pillow in protest, his words muffled. You rolled your eyes and stood up, heading over to your bag still in the same spot it’d been since Rodrick set it there. He slowly rolled off the bed and got himself on his feet, trudging over to the door.

“You drooled on my shirt,” you pointed out, glancing at the small patch on your shirt.

“Did not,” he scoffed, stretching as he walked. You turned towards him and gestured to the spot. “Huh,” he huffed.

“I liked this shirt,” you complained, biting back the smile that threatened to appear.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he promised.

“With what money?” you teased.

“Shut up.” He smiled.

Breakfast was far more chaotic than dinner. Rodrick dumped the burnt food into the trash can, a prominent frown on his lips as he stared at the charred remnants of something that was edible at some point. Once again, in an attempt to impress you, he thought he could make pancakes for breakfast. But he saw you across the room, every step seeming graceful to him. The way your hand would tuck away loose strands of hair behind your ear, your lips moving as you spoke, the warm feeling your presence brought. He was so wrapped up in you, drowning in you, only to be snapped into reality at the smell of burning beside him.

“Think you overdid it,” your voice said from beside him. He shot you a glare, not an ounce of real malice behind it. His annoyed look faded the second he saw your lips curl into a smile. Why was he upset again?

“What? You don’t like your pancakes well done?” he joked back, regaining his composure once his eyes weren’t on you. He grabbed the bowl of batter and poured more into the pan, making another attempt at pancakes.

“Shoot for medium next time,” you teased, watching him with a humor-filled look, hoping it masked the utter feeling of fondness. His hair was messy than usual, never tamed from his bed head, the faintest hint of rasp to his voice, traces of sleep still ever present. And was it so wrong just to miss someone that was the biggest part of your childhood? Even if this felt like more than just that.

With a few ‘gentle’ reminders and too much laughter to be taken seriously, he managed to get a couple of non-disastrous pancakes out. Perched up on the counter beside one another, finding familiarity in such a simple thing. It was hard to imagine you’d ever been apart.

“What was it like.. wherever you were living?” Rodrick spoke up after a while with a mouthful of pancake, realizing you had only listened to him ramble about his time here. You huffed out a quiet laugh, your attention shifting over to him with a faint smile.

“Boring. Just some shitty small town. Nothing important,” you shrugged, setting the empty plate down on the countertop beside you.

“Cause I wasn’t there,” Rodrick teased, nudging your shoulder with his.

“You’re not wrong,” you agreed, nudging him back. His smirk softened into a smile, hoping that he meant as much to you as you meant to him. “Which would be a first,” you added jokingly, earning a fake frown from him.

“Well, first time for everything, right?” he managed, attempting to seem casual as he leaned a fraction closer to you. His fingers twitched, terribly close to yours but he wasn’t bold enough to reach out. He nearly gathered the courage, swearing he saw your gaze slip down to his lips before the moment was lost.

Susan’s voice spoke your name, snapping your attention in her direction while Rodrick internally groaned. Cockblocker.

“How long are you guys staying in town?” Susan asked, a warm smile on her lips as she cleaned up the dishes in the sink.

“Couple weeks, I think,” you answered. Rodrick frowned again. Couple weeks was all he got? Just to lose you all over again?

“Why don’t you move back?” Rodrick voiced, his eyes on something distant in the room. Both yours and Susan’s eyes snapped over to him, Susan seconds away from reminding him of manners and that it’s your parents’ decision.

“I wish,” you mumbled, finding Rodrick’s gaze again. Susan quickly silenced, looking between the two of you. She turned away without a word.

“Miss me that much?” he teased, attempting to lighten your seemingly off disposition.

“Are you crazy?” you shot back, pushing his shoulder before hopping off the counter. He clutched his shoulder, groaning in faux pain.

“After all that I’ve done for you?” he frowned, leaning slightly closer to you.

“Be a pain in my ass?” you remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s my way of showing my care,” he huffed, tilting his chin up with mock arrogance.

“You should work on that,” you teased.

The next week or so was relatively the same. Chaotic, crowded meals, catching up on all the lost time, Rodrick. Practically attached to each other. Wherever he went, you followed. You asked for something and he was diving to get it for you. It earned smiles from your parents, saying “some things never change” but something was different. Some weird flutter that’d never been there before. Some stupid spark you’d only hear in cheesy romances. But to think that you.. and Rodrick? It wouldn’t work, or at least you reminded yourself of that and decided to bury whatever it was you were feeling. You just missed him. That’s all it had to be.

Rodrick suffered the same torment. It had to just be something hormonal which is why he got so damn excited when he saw you or why he suddenly wanted you in every way imaginable. But, subtlety wasn’t his specialty and Greg caught onto his feelings before he recognized them himself.

“You’re staring,” he would mock, watching Rodrick’s eyes follow you across the room before snickering to himself. It didn’t take long before he was blabbering to your brother about it. Thankfully, the word never got around to you.

Bothered by all the comments and remarks, he made it his mission to only be around you when Greg wasn’t around. He’d steer you off to his room or drag you out to his van to take a drive. It became so common that your mom eventually prompted taking all the kids on a drive. With a white-knuckled grip and an awkward silence in the air, the drive was short-lived before the youngest were dropped off at the house and you and Rodrick were off again, driving off to a diner.

“Little pricks,” Rodrick grumbled with a mouthful of fries. “Can’t believe I had to drive those little shits around.”

“Rodrick, it was a 10 minute drive,” you reminded, an amused smile pulling at the corners of your lips. He pauses his chewing, sending you a hard look across the booth.

“Worst 10 minutes of my life,” he retorted before taking another bite of his burger. “If I wanted to drag them along, I would’ve done it.”

“You’re dramatic,” you teased, stealing a fry off his plate. He shot you a glare and slapped your hand away as you reached for another, a laugh leaving your lips. Every ounce of annoyance faded nearly instantly, but he kept the frown on his lips.

“Quit stealing my food. Not my fault you didn’t choose fries as a side,” he huffed, shaking his head in faux irritation.

“Dickhead,” you scoffed, leaning back with a smile on your lips only to have a fry tossed at you. “Rude.” He batted his eyelashes innocently.

“I thought you wanted a fry?”

The night was the same. Scarfing down his food before urging you off to his room so he didn’t have to be stuck with the other family members. He flopped on his bed as he watched you look through old collections of items in his room. His eyes never strayed away, watching every step, every slight movement of your fingers, tracing over shelves, picking up old toys his mom refused to let him get rid of “in case Manny wanted them”. He watched the sway of your hips, tracking every step you took; everything seeming nearly angelic to him.

“Can’t believe you still have this,” he heard you say, effectively snapping out of whatever trance you had put him in. He propped himself up on his forearms, focusing on the old action figure toy in your hands. “Remember when you managed to get it stuck on the roof?” you recalled, glancing back at him with a smile.

“Oh shut up,” he huffed, rolling his eyes to mask the affection he felt. He dropped back onto the bed, leaning back against the pillow. You set the toy down and headed over to him, sitting on the bed beside him.

“You alright?” you asked, watching the way he adverted his eyes onto the ceiling.

“Never better,” he breathed, resting one hand behind his head and the other splayed out on his stomach over the fabric of his shirt. He managed to shift his eyes back over to you, choking back the urge to throw caution to the window and wrap his arms around you.

He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse when you made that move for him, laying down beside him. He hesitated for a long moment before letting his arm wrap around you, pulling you into his side until you eventually fell asleep. He didn’t sleep for a while. He hardly even breathed, not wanting to disturb you from that peaceful look on your features that somehow made you prettier to him.

No surprise that you woke up before him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest with his face half buried in the pillow. You stayed beside him for a while, reluctant to move from such a warm embrace. Fingers carded through his hair, already tousled from shifting on the pillow. You hugged him a bit closer which eventually triggered him to wake up but he didn’t move or speak, content with staying where he was. It was a while before either you made any move to show you were awake.

“Remember that old arcade we used to go to?” Rodrick spoke as you came back into his room from the bathroom. You paused in your steps for a moment.

“Back when you used to break into Greg’s piggybank so we had money?” you teased lightly, earning a smile from him.

“Still would,” he joked back with a reminiscing sigh. He sat up on his bed after a moment, running a hand through his hair.

“What about it?” you asked, standing at the edge of the bed, eyes flickering over his sleep-filled features, the lingering peacefulness still there.

“We should go,” he prompted, leaning back on his hands. “Without the little shits,” he quickly added, a small scowl on his lips. With a laugh from you, it softened.

“Then get your ass out of bed,” you huffed, nudging his leg before turning away to get changed.

In record time, he was ushering you out the door, dragging you out of the house before his mom could even suggest bringing your little siblings along.

As the evening settled in, the sun dipping past the horizon, Rodrick leaned back against the hood of his car, watching the view. It was something he might’ve never given thought towards, but a simple request from you to watch the sunset and he found himself as lost as you in the blended colors lighting the sky. Yes, he was appreciative of such a sight but nothing compared to the golden glow seemingly softening your features as you sat on the hood, watching the very same view he was. The glint in your eyes, hair lightly blowing in the wind, just enough to blow a strand of hair in front of your eyes which he was tempted to move out of the way for you. His gaze lowered from your eyes to the stuffed animal in your lap, one he had spent countless tries and endless tickets on to get for you. An imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the image of how you lit up fresh in his mind.

“Not thinking of stealing him, are you?” Your voice broke his trance, noticing his zoned out gaze focused on the toy in your lap. He shook his head, his smile growing a fraction.

“Wouldn’t be stealing considering I was the one that won him,” he teased back, his eyes settling on yours again, an uncharacteristic look of utter fondness in his eyes. The look only intensified as he watched you hold the animal tighter against you in a protective manner.

The air filled with comfortable silence, for once feeling unpressured to carry on meaningless conversation. His thoughts had finally quieted too, content in the bliss of your presence. It wasn’t until he felt the subtle touch of your pinky brush against his that seemed to disrupt the emptiness in his mind. His eyes lowered, watching your hand linger so close to his that he wouldn’t have to move more than an inch to interlace your fingers with his — a tempting notion that he managed to surprise for a grand total of a couple seconds. His hand nudged towards yours, pinky interlocking with his until he built up the courage to fully take your hand in his.

His mind got busier and busier with every second your hand remained tangled with his, a million ‘what if?’s and worries swarming his thoughts. The once atmospheric calmness was now disrupted by the maelstrom of possibilities tearing through his mind. Your attention was diverted back to him as his hand subconsciously tightened around yours, trying to ground him back to the present unsuccessfully.

“Something wrong?” you asked softly, the worry in your voice sending an unfitting shock of fear down his spine. You cared, and that was enough to make his heart ache, reminded of all the negative outcomes and how the quantity of those greatly outweighed the positive outcomes. For a moment, he had simply let himself get carried in such an unreasonable fantasy; that you would ever be his.

“Nothing,” he answered a bit too harshly for his own taste, pulling his hand from yours. The cold shock that ran through him was immediate, already missing the warmth against his palm and between his fingers. Human touch, or rather just your touch had never been such an insatiable craving, not until you came bounding back into his life. How was he to deal?

After the unsettling feeling of coldness against his skin, your hurt expression was the next thing to hit him. Panicked and remorseful eyes — as if you’d done something wrong — sent another pang through him. He wanted to apologize, explain that he was in WAY over his head and he had no right to take it out on you. But pride and stubbornness kept those words on the tip of his tongue, forcing his gaze away.

“Rodrick… can we talk?” you asked tentatively after the tense stretch of silence that had followed his dismissal. He quickly rejected the idea, shaking his head as he stepped away from the hood of the car, managing to put distance between you.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m fine.” A terrible lie and an obvious one at that. Notorious for lying and cheating his way out of things but this was the one thing he couldn’t manage?

“That wasn’t my point…” you sighed, pushing away from the car, sitting the bear on top of it. He might’ve cracked a smile if his heart hadn’t been a couple beats from escaping his chest. “I meant about us,” you started, searching his eyes for any sort of gauge to his reaction.

“What?” he scoffed, wide eyes a dead giveaway to the utter shock and fearfulness that ran through him, something you should’ve called him out on. “We’re fine. We- w-wha..” he rambled, one hand raised in a frantic gesture as he begged for an explanation to appear in his mind.

“Something just,” feels different were the words planning to follow but Rodrick was already rushing to speak, determined to postpone your words, thinking they’d be less real next time you’d say them.

“We’ve gotta head back. It’s getting dark,” he awkwardly excused, already making a beeline for the drivers seat.

“Curfew’s not until-”

“Fuck, I don’t care about curfew!” he snapped, his eyes darting back to yours, once freaked look now hardened. His jaw was tense for a moment longer before he slumped, unable to last under the sight of your frightful eyes.

“I’m just asking to talk,” you tried to start again, hoping to lower the guards blocking your way from him.

“I don’t wanna talk. Just get in the fucking car,” he mumbled, his hand hovering over the door handle to the drivers side before slipping in.

The car ride home was torturous.

The passenger door shuts and he starts the engine, snapping him out of his thoughts. Wordlessly and in painfully tense silence, he begins the drive home.

He zoned out, street and traffic lights seeming like a blur of color in his vision, nothing distinct enough to be memorable. Stubborn, neither spoke a word, the only sound being the small clatter of objects in the back with every bump in the road. The space felt too small. In a perfect world, he would’ve let his hand rest on your thigh. But of course… you weren’t his. It wasn’t his right to do such a thing.

The ride lasted an eternity but finally he could see the familiarity of their house coming into view. He couldn’t have been more grateful. He was undoing his seatbelt before it had fully come to a stop, beyond anxious to get an ounce of relief and a breath of air. You watched with worried eyes as he hurried inside like the car was on fire, instantly feeling a pang of guilt as if you’d done something wrong. Slowly, you followed inside.

You trudged downstairs to his room, the space vacant and feeling strangely emptier than usual. He wasn’t there either. You sighed and rummaged through your bag for a fresh set of clothes to change into after you showered.

His door swung open a while later, too absorbed in your own worries and guilt-filled thoughts. Your gaze snapped up from where you were sitting on the floor. Rodrick, fresh from a shower, paused in the doorway, his gaze fixating on you. He opened his mouth to speak but you were beating him to it.

“Did I do something wrong?” you blurted out, that pit in you stomach getting the better of your rationality. He panicked, dodging the question instinctively.

“Why are you sitting on the floor?” he asked, seeming to disregard your question.

“Rodrick,” you reprimanded.

“There’s more comfortable places to sit,” he continued, slightly panicked eyes looking around his room.

“Rodrick,” you tried to intervene again.

“The bed, the chair-”

“Rodrick!”

He finally shut up as he saw you rise to your feet and heard the snap in your voice, finally gaining his attention. He gave you a guilty look, like a puppy being scolded for destroying a toy.

“What did I do?” you asked, voice just as pleading as the look in his eyes. His heart clenched a bit. You hadn’t done anything wrong. He just couldn’t get a grip. “You keep running away. Did I do something?” you asked worriedly again, anxiety skyrocketing with every moment he managed to stay quiet.

How did he explain this? He was falling. Hard. Harder than he understood and faster than he could wrap his head around. It was some force to be reckoned with, but he couldn’t deal. He didn’t even know what the feeling was. The flutter in his heart, the turning in his stomach, the heat coursing through him, the twinge in his gut. His chest ached. He craved you more than anything he ever had before. It was a sick feeling. Yearning, longing, pining, utter desperation to have something he knew he couldn’t and shouldn’t have. He couldn’t ruin this. This feeling would pass.. it had to. It was just hormones or he just missed you and he was mistaking it for something he couldn’t name yet.

Then there was the look in your eyes again. The same eyes he found himself getting lost in a little too easily. The same gaze he wanted to hold through it all. But the pained and troubled look in your eyes is something he never wanted. He missed seeing the smile in your eyes, the brightness, the liveliness. Or the way they’d shut when you laughed too hard. How your lips would curl into a smile, or a pout when he kept poking fun at you. All things he had missed so dearly. He hadn’t known he had missed them until he finally got to see them again, suddenly reminded of every good moment spent with you. Every moment you saved his life without trying. Every moment he fell harder and harder. Every moment he loved you…

He’d seen you everywhere when you were gone. In the simple things. Beautiful things. You were in the stars, in the water, in the flowers, everywhere. Everything could remind him of you. He could think of music and hope that you’d like it too. Or hope that you’d be proud of his band, which he found made him think of you often. He saw you in the moon, wondering if you’d be staring be staring up at the dark sky too, watching the moon and hoping he was thinking of you. Had he done all these things? Had he thought of you this much? Had he always loved you like this? Love… That stupid fucking word. He hated it. He couldn’t love you.

“Rodrick,” you spoke softly, dragging him out of his thoughts. His eyes refocused on you and it really hit him. He loved you. More than a friend loves another. Not in the way he used to force himself to believe. How could he mistake such a feeling?

He lost his logic. The burn in his chest, the whirlpool of thoughts. It was too loud, too tormenting. He couldn’t deal. He missed the spark of warmth whenever his hands were on you. He missed the tingly feeling his skin got. He missed how much better he felt when you were close.

His hands flew to your waist and pulled you in until your lips crashed against his. He’d regret this, he was almost sure of it, but he couldn’t live without one taste of your lips. How many times had he thought of this that he disregarded? How many times had he blocked that idea out of his mind, banishing it from his thoughts? Why hadn’t he given in?

The voices and questions slowly quieted, everything resolving to one simple truth as his lips stayed on yours. He loved you. That was final. It’d been final all this time, it just took him so long to come around.

Every inch of his skin ignited. The softness of your lips against his, your waist under his touch. He wanted more, so much more. He wanted to worship you. Kiss every inch of skin to make up for every moment he’d denied himself of it. To finally show you just how much he cares. Just how much he softens around you. How the boy that normally cares about nothing shows endless amounts of affection for you. The one who loved you. Who always had.

His lips broke away from yours, his eyes slowly fluttering open to find you wide-eyed and completely speechless. He was too content with his realization to panic for a moment before he abruptly tore his hands away, craving the contact again already.

He opened his mouth to speak, the words he meant to say being ‘I’m sorry’ but what he managed to say was, “I love you.” The hell was he thinking? That’s not something you spring on someone.

“What?” you asked. What was the appropriate response? Surely ‘I love you too’ should be the right thing to say, but that crossed the boundary of friends. Thank you? Is that the right answer?

“I don’t wanna repeat myself,” Rodrick grumbled, trying to keep a shred of his dignity in tact if this didn’t go in his favour.

“Rodrick-”

“Forget it,” he huffed, taking another step back. He could hear the denial in your voice and the last thing he wanted was to suffer some pitiful rejection. ‘I love you as a friend’ or ‘this won’t work’. The last thing he wanted to hear was that he ruined what he had.

“Rodrick, stop it,” you tried to intervene, trying to close the distance he had created but he stepped back again.

“I don’t need some stupid-” he attempted to protest again, putting his hand up to stop you as his eyes lowered with another step back.

“Goddamn it, Rodrick, listen!” you snapped, your voice rising louder than you meant it to. He recoiled, his eyes elsewhere before slowly finding their way back to you, glassy. You took a shaky breath, pinching the bridge of your nose before finding your voice again. “Would you stop running?” you pleaded, voice softer than before.

“I’m not running,” he defended weakly, the lie obvious on his lips. All he’s done is ran. Ran from the possibility that he could ever feel something for you and that maybe he always has.

“Rodrick.”

He broke.

The sweetness in your voice, the care, warmth. Despite himself, a tear escaped, silently rolling down his cheek. He was already wiping it away before it could get far, a bitter taste in his mouth at the mere thought of seeming weak in front of anyone.

“Roddy…”

Another tear. Then when he felt your arms around him, he clung onto you like a lifeline, the fabric of your shirt bunching up in his grip. Such high walls he’d built up for years crumbling with just his name from your lips. A stupid nickname he scowled at when he was younger. One he’d frown at if anyone else called him that. But it was perfect coming from your lips. Everything was.

His eyes fluttered shut, his face buried into your neck as he held you against him. He took a deep breath, your scent filling his senses, wishing he could drown in it. The warmth of your body against his overrides his mind, leaving him breathless.

A few shuddering breaths later and he managed to gather himself enough to meet your gaze. His hands lingered on your waist, unwillingly to put much space between you. He leaned heavily into your touch when you gently cupped his cheek, nuzzling against your palm like he was starved of affection. He watched the way your eyes softened and he nearly trembled again.

“Do you…?” he managed after a moment, the question trailing off but the implication was clear. Did you love him? There was a long pause, your throat closing up as the threat of tears started to burn in your eyes. He swore his heart stopped when he saw you nod. His lips parted in surprise, feeling the world stop turning around him.

“Of course I do,” you mumbled, brushing the remnants of a tear from his cheek, feeling your own threaten to spill over. “And if you would listen once in a while instead of being a dumbass,” you added with a breathless laugh, a weak smile finding a way to both your lips. You took another deep breath, trying to calm the maelstrom of thoughts. You opened your mouth to speak before eventually closing it again, failing for the right words.

“Don’t,” he whispered, his hands moving to your back to push you flush against him. One hand stayed on the small of your back while his other hand found its way to your cheek, his touch nearly featherlight, a side to him that anyone would’ve deemed impossible years ago. His eyes flickered between your eyes and lips, a silent request and understanding passing between you without another word mumbled. With one more glance, his lips were on yours. He let out a shaky sigh against your lips when your hands found purchase in his hair. His hands moved to your hips, pushing and pulling you against him, trying to erase any possible distance.

The kiss broke, his forehead leaned against yours. He took a moment to catch his breath, still feeling the rush of emotions coursing through him. He watched the dazed smile on your lips, the smile mirrored into his own lips. His nose brushed against yours before he captured your lips in another soft kiss, needing some confirmation that this was real. With a quick break again, his lips were covering yours, deeper this time.

Maybe some instinct still lingered in his mind but his steps were clear as he backed you towards his bed. He was lost, unable to think about anything else but you, which wasn’t something he seemed to mind. He only managed to snap out of his trance when his lips felt cold again, realizing you’d broken away. Then your breathless laughter.

“Rodrick, have you forgotten your family and mine is currently in this house?” you reminded him, lightly pushing him back before your legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Don’t care,” he mumbled, already chasing after your lips again but you pushed him back again, a frown forming on his lips.

“I do,” you laughed. He pulled back, letting his hands hold your waist, scared that if he let go, you would disappear. “And… I don’t wanna rush this,” you added, lightly poking his chest. He rolled his eyes and eventually let go of you, flopping onto his bed.

“Whatever,” he jokingly grumbled, burying his face into his pillow. You scoffed and slapped his arm lightly. You could see the smile he tried to hide with the pillow.

“You’re really gonna be like that?” you sighed, sitting down on the bed beside him. His arm draped over your lap, trying to tug you closer.

“You could make it up to me,” he mumbled, picking his head up to look at you, a shit-eating smirk on his lips.

“I hate you,” you said, the smile on your lips conveying just the opposite. He sat up, his smirk softening into a smile. He leaned slightly closer, one hand resting on your hip while the other landed on your cheek again.

“Go tell them there’s a fire or something. Get them out of the house,” he jokingly ordered, a whine to his voice that earned a laugh from you. “So then I can have you to myself,” he added, letting his thumb trace over your bottom lip before pulling his hand away.

“Not sleeping with you,” you reminded, tilting your head slightly. He groaned loudly, flopping against the bed. “Yet.” He perked up again before groaning again, realizing that required waiting. He sighed, covering his face with his arm.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

“I love you.”

He smiled, his eyes closing in bliss at those three words, never realizing how badly he’d longed to hear them fall from your lips.

“Not gonna say it back?” you teased, nudging his side.

“Was once not enough for you?” he jokingly shot back, peeking an eye open to look over at you. You shot him a stern look and he instantly caved. With a mock sigh of exasperation he spoke.

“I love you too.”

Your lips met his in a sweet, brief kiss, the gesture already seeming so natural.

He sighed when he felt weight lift off the mattress, watching as you started to head towards the bathroom.

“I’ve gotta shower,” you told him, lingering at the bottom of the steps.

“I could join you in there!” he called out, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Rodrick!” you scolded again. He snickered.

“I’m just saying!”