Kataang Week 2024 DAY 1 // Cultural Sharing
“I’m nervous. Am I doing okay?”
“You’re doing amazing Sweetie.”
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Kataang Week 2024 DAY 1 // Cultural Sharing
“I’m nervous. Am I doing okay?”
“You’re doing amazing Sweetie.”

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“You and me, together for the rest of our lives. How does that sound?” from the "together" prompts.
“Hey.” Lucy looks at the shiny steel doors, at the toes of her boots, at the little vent in the ceiling, at the glowing lights on the button panel. Anything to avoid looking at Tim, standing next to her in the elevator car, on the way down to the division lobby.
“Hi.” She doesn’t need to see him to feel the awkward discomfort filling the space around them.
“How have you … been?” She bites her lip as soon as the words are out, wondering if she should have asked at all. He’s only a couple of days back from leave, and she hasn’t been alone with him since … well, since the last time they were in the elevator together.
“Yeah, good.” From the corner of her eye, she sees him rub at the back of his neck. “I mean … fine. Keeping busy. It’s good to be back.”
“Yeah.” Lucy hesitates. “You know, it’s OK ifyou’re not. Good, I mean. You don’t have to be.”
“Sure, yeah. But I am. So it’s … good.”
“Well … if there’s ever anything you need, I’m …” Lucy trails off, uncertain again of how much she has a place to offer. Tim has pulled himself away from her life, and she’s not quite ready to forgive him for it yet.
But still, they’re friends, right? And friends are there for each other. If it were John or Celina or anybody else, she’d offer to help them too.
“Yeah.” Tim’s fingers twitch against his thigh, then he’s reaching out to pull the emergency stop.
“Tim?”
“Do you think …” He trails off, then starts over. “If I’m overstepping, just say so. I’m not … this isn’t to push you toward anything.”
“Tim.” This time, his name isn’t a question. “What is it?”
“Could I have a hug?”
“Oh, Tim.” Lucy turns and reaches for him, all in one motion.
He meets her halfway, stooping down until he can bury his face in her neck. His arms come around her waist, squeezing tightly as she holds on around his neck. She feels the tension bleed out of him, sagging back against her with a heavy sigh.
“I’m working on it,” he says against her skin. “On being OK.”
“I know,” Lucy whispers, bending her arm uncomfortably to slide her hand along his shoulders in a gesture that’s meant to be soothing.
“I’ll get there. I will. I’m not giving up on it. Me. Us. Any of it.”
“I know,” she says again, loosening her grip as Tim steps back out of the hug.
“I’m not asking you to wait for me. But I’ll get there.” He’s staring into her eyes now, focusing his full intensity on her. Even now, even after everything, it’s enough to make her shiver a little bit. “I know I walked away. But if you’ll have me, when I’m ready to come back …”
“I know.” Lucy reaches for his fingers, but aborts the gesture when she sees Tim shift his hand away. “I’ll be here.”
“It’ll be you and me,” he says. “When the time is right. Together, for the rest of our lives. How does that sound?”
“Not yet,” Lucy clarifies. “I’m not ready yet either. But someday, when the time is right?”
Tim nods.
“It sounds pretty amazing.”
Together prompts!
Kataang Week 2024 DAY 2 // Bodyguard
🎵 Sometimes I take a day off just to turn you on~ 🎶
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I'm finally writing again, sortakindamaybe, so I actually have something I can use to answer this! Enjoy, seester!
The sun sets while she drives home after shift, and she thinks about the feeling of Tim's arm draped around her shoulders, just as warm as the colorful streaks in the sky.
I'm Alive
I’m alive.
I’m alive.
I’m alive.
I’m alive.
I’m alive.
Two words. Seven letters. And the first thing Tim has thought every morning for the past week and a half.
Some days, it doesn’t feel like he is. Every day, it feels like he shouldn’t be.
He wakes up alone, in his bed, in a house that’s only his own. He lays there, in plain white sheets, beneath a navy duvet, and wonders why any of it matters.
And every morning, without fail, he reaches for his phone and texts Lucy.
I’m alive.
It’s the only thing he can bring himself to do, most days. He eats cereal for breakfast, even though he has bacon and eggs. He feeds Kojo and walks him far enough to use the bathroom, but gone are the long walks through the neighborhood. When Kojo brings him a chew toy, Tim tosses it across the room, but he doesn’t watch to see if the dog chases after it.
He showers, because he showers every morning. But most days, he stands underneath the spray and asks himself why he bothers with it. It’s not like he’s moving around that much, or seeing anyone who would notice.
Or seeing anyone at all.
He’s sequestered himself, his own personal house arrest, a punishment of his own design. It’s not enough, it doesn’t make up for anything he’s done, for the mess he’s made of his life.
He doesn’t recognize the man in the mirror anymore.
Read the rest on ao3 here!

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Three roses? In this economy? You're lucky I love you (kidding, I do, but you could have three sentences even if I didn't)
"Hi, honey." Tim laughs, running his fingertip along Leah's hairline to brush away the hair that has fallen loose from her braid.
"Are we in 'Braska yet?"