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summary: Riff finally comes home after another long day with the Jets. Your sewing doesn't last very long.
warnings: fluff, kissing, established relationship, domestic fluff, 1957 setting, mike faist!riff, very slight spice, the jets being the world's worst timekeepers.
a/n: this was supposed shorter but i've been thinking about this nonstop.
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The apartment was quiet when Riff came home.
Not peaceful — the building was never peaceful — but quiet enough that she could hear the soft scratch of her needle moving through fabric.
She was sitting on the bed, one of his shirts in her lap, fixing the tear in the sleeve.
The door creaked.
She looked up.
And there he was.
A little beat up. A little dirty. Hair a mess, jacket hanging loose, looking like he’d spent the whole day daring the world to knock him down.
She opened her mouth.
He didn’t let her say a word.
“Aw, no.”
He crossed the room with that familiar grin, dropping onto the bed beside her.
“Don’t start,” she murmured.
“Didn’t say nothin’.”
“You were about to.”
“Maybe.”
She barely had time to roll her eyes before he leaned in.
The kiss was warm and familiar, the kind that didn’t need asking.
The kind that said he was home.
She laughed softly against him, trying to pull away just enough to look at him.
“Riff—”
“Mm?”
“You’re filthy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Still handsome.”
She shook her head.
“Hopeless.”
“Yeah.”
And then he kissed her again before she could argue.
The shirt slipped forgotten beside them.
The whole world outside could wait.
The Jets could wait.
The fights, the noise, the city, all of it.
For once, Riff wasn’t running toward something.
He was exactly where he wanted to be.
He shifted closer, careful despite the size difference between them, his hand finding hers as he smiled against her lips.
She pushed at his shoulder half-heartedly.
“You’re a nuisance.”
“Your nuisance.”
She tried to look unimpressed.
She failed.
“Don’t get fresh.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”
He kissed her again, and this time she was the one who pulled him closer.
The old bed creaked beneath them.
The lamp flickered.
The apartment was still too small, still too worn down, still full of all the things they wished they had.
But none of that mattered.
Not when he was laughing quietly into a kiss.
Not when she was smiling against him.
she moved to lay down as he positioned himself on top of her during the kiss, her hands finding his hair.
he pulled back slightly pulling his shirt over his head. “you know i’ve been thinking ‘bout you all day girly girl.” he kisses her again slipping his tongue in her mouth
she hummed as he started to unbuttoned the top button of his shirt she was wearing, he almost got it all the way unbuttoned The apartment was quiet when Riff came home.
Not peaceful — the building was never peaceful — but quiet enough that she could hear the soft scratch of her needle moving through fabric.
She was sitting on the bed, one of his shirts in her lap, fixing the tear in the sleeve.
The door creaked.
She looked up.
And there he was.
A little beat up. A little dirty. Hair a mess, jacket hanging loose, looking like he’d spent the whole day daring the world to knock him down.
She opened her mouth.
He didn’t let her say a word.
“Aw, no.”
He crossed the room with that familiar grin, dropping onto the bed beside her.
“Don’t start,” she murmured.
“Didn’t say nothin’.”
“You were about to.”
“Maybe.”
She barely had time to roll her eyes before he leaned in.
The kiss was warm and familiar, the kind that didn’t need asking.
The kind that said he was home.
She laughed softly against him, trying to pull away just enough to look at him.
“Riff—”
“Mm?”
“You’re filthy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Still handsome.”
She shook her head.
“Hopeless.”
“Yeah.”
And then he kissed her again before she could argue.
The shirt slipped forgotten beside them.
The whole world outside could wait.
The Jets could wait.
The fights, the noise, the city, all of it.
For once, Riff wasn’t running toward something.
He was exactly where he wanted to be.
He shifted closer, careful despite the size difference between them, his hand finding hers as he smiled against her lips.
She pushed at his shoulder half-heartedly.
“You’re a nuisance.”
“Your nuisance.”
She tried to look unimpressed.
She failed.
“Don’t get fresh.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”
He kissed her again, and this time she was the one who pulled him closer.
The old bed creaked beneath them.
The lamp flickered.
The apartment was still too small, still too worn down, still full of all the things they wished they had.
But none of that mattered.
Not when he was laughing quietly into a kiss.
Not when she was smiling against him.
she moved to lay down as he positioned himself on top of her during the kiss, her hands finding his hair.
he pulled back slightly pulling his shirt over his head. “you know i’ve been thinking ‘bout you all day girly girl.” he kisses her again slipping his tongue in her mouth
she hummed as he started to unbuttoned the top button of his shirt she was wearing, he almost got it all the way unbuttoned The apartment was quiet when Riff came home.
Not peaceful — the building was never peaceful — but quiet enough that she could hear the soft scratch of her needle moving through fabric.
She was sitting on the bed, one of his shirts in her lap, fixing the tear in the sleeve.
The door creaked.
She looked up.
And there he was.
A little beat up. A little dirty. Hair a mess, jacket hanging loose, looking like he’d spent the whole day daring the world to knock him down.
She opened her mouth.
He didn’t let her say a word.
“Aw, no.”
He crossed the room with that familiar grin, dropping onto the bed beside her.
“Don’t start,” she murmured.
“Didn’t say nothin’.”
“You were about to.”
“Maybe.”
She barely had time to roll her eyes before he leaned in.
The kiss was warm and familiar, the kind that didn’t need asking.
The kind that said he was home.
She laughed softly against him, trying to pull away just enough to look at him.
“Riff—”
“Mm?”
“You’re filthy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Still handsome.”
She shook her head.
“Hopeless.”
“Yeah.”
And then he kissed her again before she could argue.
The shirt slipped forgotten beside them.
The whole world outside could wait.
The Jets could wait.
The fights, the noise, the city, all of it.
For once, Riff wasn’t running toward something.
He was exactly where he wanted to be.
He shifted closer, careful despite the size difference between them, his hand finding hers as he smiled against her lips.
She pushed at his shoulder half-heartedly.
“You’re a nuisance.”
“Your nuisance.”
She tried to look unimpressed.
She failed.
“Don’t get fresh.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”
He kissed her again, and this time she was the one who pulled him closer.
The old bed creaked beneath them.
The lamp flickered.
The apartment was still too small, still too worn down, still full of all the things they wished they had.
But none of that mattered.
Not when he was laughing quietly into a kiss.
Not when she was smiling against him.
she moved to lay down as he positioned himself on top of her during the kiss, her hands finding his hair.
he pulled back slightly pulling his shirt over his head. “you know i’ve been thinking ‘bout you all day girly girl.” he kisses her again slipping his tongue in her mouth
she hummed as he started to unbuttoned the top button of his shirt she was wearing, he almost got it all the way unbuttoned before a knock was heard on their apartment door followed by the voices of the jets.
“alright ya animals keep it in ya pants!” riff yelled getting up.
“every time.” she muttered standing up too heading towards the kitchen while buttoning the shirt again as riff when to answer the door. The apartment was quiet when Riff came home.
Not peaceful — the building was never peaceful — but quiet enough that she could hear the soft scratch of her needle moving through fabric.
She was sitting on the bed, one of his shirts in her lap, fixing the tear in the sleeve.
The door creaked.
She looked up.
And there he was.
A little beat up. A little dirty. Hair a mess, jacket hanging loose, looking like he’d spent the whole day daring the world to knock him down.
She opened her mouth.
He didn’t let her say a word.
“Aw, no.”
He crossed the room with that familiar grin, dropping onto the bed beside her.
“Don’t start,” she murmured.
“Didn’t say nothin’.”
“You were about to.”
“Maybe.”
She barely had time to roll her eyes before he leaned in.
The kiss was warm and familiar, the kind that didn’t need asking.
The kind that said he was home.
She laughed softly against him, trying to pull away just enough to look at him.
“Riff—”
“Mm?”
“You’re filthy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Still handsome.”
She shook her head.
“Hopeless.”
“Yeah.”
And then he kissed her again before she could argue.
The shirt slipped forgotten beside them.
The whole world outside could wait.
The Jets could wait.
The fights, the noise, the city, all of it.
For once, Riff wasn’t running toward something.
He was exactly where he wanted to be.
He shifted closer, careful despite the size difference between them, his hand finding hers as he smiled against her lips.
She pushed at his shoulder half-heartedly.
“You’re a nuisance.”
“Your nuisance.”
She tried to look unimpressed.
She failed.
“Don’t get fresh.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”
He kissed her again, and this time she was the one who pulled him closer.
The old bed creaked beneath them.
The lamp flickered.
The apartment was still too small, still too worn down, still full of all the things they wished they had.
But none of that mattered.
Not when he was laughing quietly into a kiss.
Not when she was smiling against him.
she moved to lay down as he took his shirt off then positioned himself on top of her during the kiss, her hands finding his hair.
he pulled back slightly pulling his shirt over his head. “you know i’ve been thinking ‘bout you all day girly girl.” he kisses her again slipping his tongue in her mouth
she hummed as he started to unbuttoned his shirt she was wearing, as he moved down to kiss and suck on her neck.
For just a minute, the city disappeared.
No Sharks.
No cops.
No rumbling trains.
Just the old mattress beneath them and the lamp throwing soft light across the room.
Then—
Three hard knocks rattled the apartment door.
"BANG! BANG! BANG!"
"C'mon, Pop! We know you're in there!"
Riff squeezed his eyes shut.
"...Ignore 'em."
Another bang.
"Lorton!"
"They'll go away."
"They absolutely won't."
"shit."
He stole one last quick kiss.
Then another.
She laughed, nudging his shoulder.
"They're liable to knock the door clean off."
"They got rotten timin'."
From the hall:
"Ya animals! We ain't gettin' any younger!"
Riff groaned dramatically as he finally pushed himself up.
"Alright, alright! Keep your shirts on!"
She sat up, trying to smooth her hair while moving to button the her shirt back.
"Every time," she muttered.
Riff looked back with the most shameless grin she'd ever seen.
"Could be worse."
"Oh?"
"They could've showed up five minutes later."
She rolled her eyes, tossing his discarded shirt from the floor at him.
"Go answer the door."
He caught it against his chest.
"Yes, ma'am."
She pointed a warning finger.
"Don't."
He flashed that grin again.
"Worth a shot."
Still chuckling to himself, he headed for the door while she smiled softly to herself, already hearing the Jets carrying on from the hallway before Riff even turned the knob.
summary: On September 1st, 1971 you were sorted into Slytherin, putting you on the map as the first Potter to do so, and the first time James Potter turned his back on someone he claimed he loved dearly. You’re slowly drifting away, turning the Potter twins into a sad tale, but after one deadly incident close to Christmas break, James decides to put an end to the distance he unknowingly created.
How can you say that you love someone you can’t tell is dying?
cw: suicidal ideation, but hinted. scars and blood mention, nosebleed. angst, very heavy on the angst. potter!reader, fem!reader. platonic marauders and rosier twins. background jily.
a/n: sorry if this too much… just had this idea for a while and i needed an outlet. likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. enjoy! xx
···
You sighed, the bandage around your shoulder suffocating you to the point of tears. As much as you tried, you wanted to keep your compartment warm and toasty with the blanket over your seat and legs, but your efforts were in vain at the mere lack of human heat. The fogged window seemed an acceptable distraction as you dragged your finger around, drawing meaningless doodles as the train passed by beautiful landscapes you barely registered.
Something shifted on your other side, and you turned to find people walking past your compartment, pointing and whispering about you and your sad state. None of them dared to open the door, making the lump in your throat grow with each breath you took. You looked down at the cassette player in your lap, hands too shaky to change the cassette into something more cheerful.
In time, you looked up to find a pair of brown eyes staring at you with both curiosity and pity, you frowned, desperately wishing your brother’s friends would stop pestering you. Their mere presence was a bitter reminder of your brother's abandonment, the pain you suffered seeing them fill your place, share laughter together like you both did many years ago. You looked away, luckily for you, Remus got the signal and made to move past the compartment; but to Remus’ ill luck, James followed his gaze and opened the door.
“Mum said Dad won’t be able to come, but will be waiting for us at the Manor.” He murmured, his eyes pointedly trying to not stare too hard at the bandages peeking through your jumper. You nodded. “She will meet us at the station.”
“Okay,” You said, not moving to take your headphones off, nor to look at him to meet his gaze. You feared you would cry if you looked at him, a reminder of the despair in his eyes when they brought you into the infirmary. “I knew that, you know we still write to each other, right?”
James nodded quickly, swallowing hard at your voice devoid of emotion. “Yeah, just… Just wanted to make sure,” He paused, quickly stepping in to fully enter and close the door behind him. You finally turned your head to him with surprise. “You alright?”
You scoffed, finally taking your headphones off your ears, “What do you think, James?” This time, he has no qualms about studying you completely, eyes skimming over your poor posture as a result of the accident. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes, your blood boiled as you spat. “Yes, I’m fine. Will that be all, or…?”
James closed his mouth and schooled his face, something desperately needing to be said. You bit your lip, your insides filling with regret but having no intention of backing away from the incoming disagreement. Something in you stirred with hope, hope that he would finally give you your place and sit with you. However, the bespectacled boy simply nodded and left the compartment.
You let out a breath, disbelief and disappointment in your heart as you placed the headphones back in your head. A tear slowly rolled down your cheek and you quickly cleaned it, your shaky hand almost poking your eye as you desperately tried to swallow the possible panic attack you felt looming over you. The countless letters addressed to you from your mother heavy on your satchel, most of them asking you to fix your relationship with James, the other begging you to take care of yourself, you weren’t sure which ones hurt the most.
The moment the word Sectumsempra left Snape’s mouth, a curse filled with magic so dark not even the boy could understand it, you almost felt bad for the relief you felt in your chest at the pain that took over your body. That morning still felt like a far away memory, a dream that shook you up so much you still recalled after you woke up; McGonagall’s surprised gasp and the students that were unfortunate enough to witness the moment your fellow housemate almost made you cut into pieces. You were brought up in a rush to the infirmary where your brother and his friends recovered from a rather violent full moon, James had almost passed out at the pure rage he felt when he was informed of the situation. You weren’t proud to admit that your brother being angry on your behalf was a nice memory to die with, a redemption that came almost too late.
You weren’t even prouder to admit to the sinking feeling in your chest when you woke up to find nothing had changed, the only remains that someone still cared about you in the form of Madam Pomfrey’s gentle touches. James hadn’t stayed back to check on you, and you couldn’t blame him. To that day, you couldn’t fully stare at your reflection in the mirror without your eyes filling with tears, had it not been for Pandora, promoted to friend as of lately, you wouldn’t have been able to even put the healing potions in your scars.
Just in time, three knocks came at the door, you turned, ready to yell at your brother or his friends to fuck off, but Pandora’s gentle smile made you pause. She pointed at the seat across from you, cold and empty, and you nodded dumbly. She stepped in, arms filled with sweets from the trolley and smiled at you as she made herself comfortable in the seat.
“Hi, how are you feeling?”
Why is everyone asking me that?, you thought bitterly. Immediately feeling regretful when Pandora presented you with a Chocolate Frog.
“I’m okay,” you murmured, shyly taking the sweet from her hand. She had a different color in each of her nails, you noted. “Thank you.”
Her platinum white locks fell to her shoulder as she sat back, her own Chocolate Frog in her hand. She smiled at you and picked her book, and you wanted to cry tears of happiness. Comfortable silences were Pandora’s main form of love language, you quickly learned, and you were eternally grateful for the company. You weren’t sure if you had it in you to put up with your self hatred for another moment, let alone the rest of the train ride.
You looked up from your cassette case, eyes lingering a beat too long on the compartment door.
“He’s two compartments over,” She said breezily, noticing the hesitance in your movements. “I passed them on my way here, he seems gutted.”
“Oh, please,” You made a scoffing sound, your shaky hand struggling to take a new cassette off its box. “He just feels bad for me, but he’s going to do absolutely nothing about it.” You poked your cheek with your tongue, satisfied when you finally got the cassette out.
“Have you thought that maybe,” Pandora started to say, fully closing her book now that she had your undivided attention, “maybe… he thinks it’s too late? You have been a bit too cold to him…”
“It’s the least he deserves,” You spat, then cleared your throat. If Pandora felt offended at your anger, she didn’t show, she never did. You looked back to the window, feeling the train had noticeably slowed down. “I just… I’m so tired of waiting for him, I don’t… I don’t know how to feel, I so badly wanted him to get close but now that he’s trying I don’t…” To your utter horror, you felt tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “I’m so confused.”
Pandora’s lips curled in an empathetic smile, she reached and held your shaky hand, gently sweeping her thumb across your knuckles, you took a deep breath, trying to collect yourself as students began to empty the train.
“I’m sorry,” You dared to meet her heterochromic eyes.
She shook her head, chuckling quietly. “No need to be sorry, keeping those feelings bottled up must be so tiring, I’m sure.” You laughed weakly, and used your free hand to discretely clean your cheeks. “You might’ve accepted your loneliness a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean it has to be permanent, sweet girl. Evan would agree, though he’s more shy to actually say it. You got more people in your corner than you realize, only if you let them…” She turned to the door, and you followed her gaze where you found James and Sirius walking past with a troubling look in their eyes. Pandora stood up, “You need help with your trunk?”
You opened your mouth, but were interrupted by the door opening. “Ready to go?” Sirius asked, and you frowned.
“I can carry it, thank you.” You smiled at Pandora, pointedly ignoring his question. She nodded, and reached to give you a quick hug, gentle and careful to not hurt you. “I’ll see you next term.”
“Write me?” She smiled, passing you a small box and you nodded, eyes in a daze as you tried to read the note. She walked to the door, and smiled at both boys. “Happy christmas.”
You watched her go, shaky hand still holding the box. James frowned, and studied you for a few more seconds before Sirius, who wanted to leave the station immediately before his parents would show up to drag him and Regulus away, cleared his throat rather loudly.
“Are you ready to go?” He repeated, making a move to take your trunk but you swiftly picked it up. Your features a mix of anger and, if he had more time to look at you, he would also find pain. “Don’t be stubborn, I can take that.”
“I can take my own trunk, Sirius. But thank you.” You spat, then turned away from both boys. “I’ll meet you in the platform in a moment, let me just put everything away.” You pointed to your little cocoon, the blanket and cassette player tossed aside in your previously vacated seat. “Just remember to—”
“To not tell Mum anything,” Finished James for you, an edge to his voice. “We know.”
You nodded, fear settling in your chest at the prospect of your brother picking up the argument you had nights before. Him begging you to tell your parents about what happened with Snape, to prepare them for your almost deadly state, but you met him head on, not willing to back down until he dropped the matter. He had walked away mid argument, his friends staring at you both with something akin to sadness, watching the distance grow impossibly longer despite James’ recent efforts to fix it. You had cried that night in Pandora’s arms as she and her brother watched you with both sadness and regret, you, for your part, seemed blind to the fact that they had been the reason James had breached that subject with you.
The bespectacled boy nodded, and stepped out of the compartment with Sirius close behind. You took the cassette player and put the headphones back on, Billy Joel’s Piano Man a fitting soundtrack to the way you felt. You took your satchel and hurriedly put the messily folded blanket inside, made an assesment of the compartment to not leave anything behind and silently walked out of the compartment towards the platform.
You watched with a sinking feeling as your mother enthusiastically greeted James, grabbing him by his cheeks and showering him with kisses, Sirius and the rest of his friends in line to receive the same treatment. He says, Bill, I believe this is killing me, Billy Joel sang in your ears and you readily agreed, walking towards the bunch with a tiny smile and your insides filled with dread.
Euphemia Potter’s bright smile dimmed when she met your eyes, and noted the sadness that, evident to everyone but you, radiated off your body as you placed your headphones around your neck. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, your brother and his friends watching the exchange nervously, as she practically balanced herself over you in a tight hug.
“My lovely girl,” You were horrified to almost hear her voice breaking, the least you wanted was your mother to worry for you. “How I missed you, oh, look at you.”
“Hi, mum…” You muttered, bitting your lip as she accidentally squeezed precisely around your middle, where your most painful scar was located. “Missed you too, Dad too, of course.” You patted her back awkwardly and she pulled back.
“You’re so small, oh, my girl, please be honest with me,” She grabbed your cheeks the same way she did to James, and you successfully swallowed the lump in your throat. “Have you been eating properly? I knew that veganism nonsense simply wouldn’t do.”
Her eyes studied you much like James did earlier, and you bit your lip nervously. You knew what was coming, and you wanted to take off and disappear from her searching eyes.
“I’m actually quite hungry…” You said quietly, hoping it would be enough to distract her.
Your mother, however, couldn’t be deterred. “What happened here?”
Unconsciously, you met James’ eyes. “Quiddtich accident.” You replied quickly, the lie easily slipping past your lips. “Fell off my broom, doesn’t hurt, though. I’m okay.”
“Quidditch!” She exclaimed, chuckling as she turned to James who smiled in return to avoid giving you away. “Honestly, what is it with my children and Quidditch? Can’t wait to see your dad’s face— Speaking of! He must be driving himself mad waiting for us! Come, come! Dear, you need help with your trunk?”
“I’m okay—” You replied and she quickly turned to shepherd everyone out of the plaform.
“Here,” Remus walked to you, taking the handle from your shaky hand, hard to notice to the blind eye, but he knew better, he was familiar. You frowned, and he made his voice extra quiet as he spoke, “I know you can manage but you’re going to make them worse, and by the time we get to the manor everyone will notice. It’s no problem, really.”
You stared at him, then at James who pretended to listen as Sirius and your mother fussed over Regulus, who would join you for the first time for the holidays. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and you forced yourself to look back at Remus, he smiled kindly as you nodded mutely and trailed behind the group. A comfortable silence falling between you both.
—
Potter manor seemed to stay stuck in time, with its beautiful pillars and big stained glass windows letting in colorful rays of sunshine when the english countryside allowed it. You looked through the window at your mother’s lovely garden she devoted herself to during springtime, surely to kill time when your dad was busy at work and her children away at school, her caring nature evident in the way all the flowers grew beautifully, despite the current cold weather. You sighed, and walked away ready to face your hideous fate, your secret stash of healing potions and your scars ready to be tended to.
You stopped short in front of your bed, Pandora’s present small in contrast to your belongings sprawled all over your bedding. It had her touch all over the decoration, even if the card claimed it was from both Rosier twins, the silver bow and colorful wrapping paper showing her peculiar taste. Your shaky hand hovered over the ribbon and gently tugged it to open the box, where you found a pretty aquamarine necklace along with a soft pair of green knitted mittens sitting neatly enveloped by tissue paper. You smiled and wasted no time to try and put the necklace around your neck, ignoring the fact that your shaky hands would make the task nearly impossible.
You were about to throw the necklace across the room in desperation when you heard a light knock on the door.
“Yes?” You managed to speak out, a sob begging to leave your lips. There was silence on the other side and you briefly wondered if you imagined the whole thing. “What?”
“Can I come in?” Sirius said quietly, and you frowned, but replied a quiet yes before turning your back to the door. “Hi,” He said as he stepped in, careful in his movements.
“Hi,” You echoed quietly, looking around the room to avoid meeting his eyes.
Sirius stared at the necklace in your hand and the discarded box in the other, “Need help with that?”
“I’m okay,” You followed his gaze and shook your head, knowing well it was a losing battle with the piece of jewelry. “I was just untangling it,” You said, barely believing it, and by his face, Sirius didn’t seem to believe you, either.
He stepped closer to you, his movements more confident. “Let me help you,” You opened your mouth to protest, but ended up handing him the necklace, knowing it was a losing battle arguing with him, too. “Stubborn thing you are, trying to put on this tiny necklace when your hands are shaking like a leaf.” He pointed as he stood behind you.
A silence followed, and you stared down at your hands, suddenly insecure in the way they trembled, another souvenir from your fellow housemate’s attack.
“I didn’t think anyone would notice.”
“They’re not very noticeable,” He allowed, gently tugging your shoulders to make you face him. “But sadly, love, I am very familiar with these kinds of things.” His grey eyes pointedly looked at the blood dots peeking through your bandages from your jumper. “I would change those before supper if I were you.”
You swallowed and nodded, “Thank you. Is this why you came here? Is the food ready?”
He opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it, and nodded his head. “Yes, um… Mum told me she made you some of your vegan requests.”
“Oh,” You frowned, and he chuckled quietly at the surprise in your face. “I’ll be down in a moment… I have to…”
“I know,” He nodded, then made to walk out the door but paused on the threshold, turning to face you once again. “You know… James, he’s really trying, it’s just… He doesn’t know how to reach out.”
A beat.
“Was it hard for you? To reach out to Regulus? After everything?”
He seemed to be taken aback with your question, frowning and very clearly about to tell you to mind your sodding business, but then his eyes got a very sad look that you despised. You both dreaded and hoped for his answer.
“It was difficult, yes, but because of the way we were raised, not because there wasn’t love, it was just very tangled with other things, confusion, anger and resentment… But the love persevered. I think… I think that’s what made it bearable, that at the end of the day we loved each other despite everything.”
You nodded, visibly not satisfied with his answer. “I get that, but… you said it yourself, it was hard because of the way you were raised so… what is stopping James?”
Sirius seemed pretty close to tears himself, feeling for you and frustrated at the way James acted. Honestly not even himself could explain the way James handled everything since you both were sorted, admittedly he hadn’t known him long enough back then to be confused by the evident indifference towards you, but as he grew to know you both, that confusion grew in significance. It couldn’t have been the same James that offered him his home without thinking twice when he learned the hell that was Grimmauld Place, it was hard for Sirius to think that James held some resentment towards his sister for being sorted into Slytherin when he himself despised Sirius’ parents for disowning him for being a Gryffindor. You didn’t seem to be particularly fond of the pureblood supremacy ideologies your house held, either; keeping to yourself and to your friends, the Rosier twins and occasionally Regulus as of lately, and the gentle way you carried yourself through the hallways. He often wondered if the Sorting Hat had made a mistake.
“I… I don’t know, sweetheart,” He sighed. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, I don’t think this is a conversation for me to participate in.”
“It’s alright,” You nodded, once again swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’ll be down in a minute.” You said before marching towards your bathroom, closing the door behind you.
Sirius sighed, feeling very angry at himself for the way he managed to mess it all up in a matter of seconds. A hand squeezed his shoulder and he turned his face to meet both Remus and his brother’s sad eyes, he shrugged sadly and closed the door to your room quietly. A few seconds later, Lily walked out of her own room, immediately taking notice of the three boys sadly staring at your door and ushered them all to the dinning room, a sad look in her own eyes as she tried to ignore the knot in her stomach.
—
You stared blankly at a spot next to your father‘s face as you pretended to listen to his very heated debate with James about where should the next Quidditch Cup be. The food long gone and conversations passed in a daze as you ate supper and managed to participate here and there and answer the questions directed to you. You unconsciously thumbed the precious gemstone resting in your chest, the repetitive action helped you make the shakiness in your hands less evident.
You sat in a wingback chair, making a cocoon of yourself as you watched your brother and his friends happily chatting away to different topics, you watched as he occasionally grabbed Lily’s hand and kissed it, or the way he reached over his girlfriend to shove Sirius’ shoulder, mischief glistening behind his glasses. You knew you were being a killjoy, your pain almost an imposition in their delightful conversation had they noticed, if they ever did, or let them notice, you bitterly thought.
“Oh, darling,” Suddenly you had a handkerchief shoved to your nose. You frowned, but let your mother’s hand cradle your face back. “You almost stained your jumper,” Horrified, you noticed that your nose was bleeding, a common occurrence since the incident.
“Sorry,” You mumbled, trying to look away from her eyes, slowly filling with worry. “Don’t know what happened there. Strange.”
“Good thing your mum has good reflexes,” your dad pointed, chuckling and blissfully unaware of the sudden tension in the room. “Growing up with you lot gave her reflexes of steel, she would’ve been a killer Seeker.”
“Let that go, honey,” Your mum added distractly, looking into your eyes, searching for… what? You were not sure, but her scrutiny made you nervous. “Are you okay?”
You inhaled deeply, suddenly feeling very warm. “Yes, I can take it, mum–” You made to raise your hand to take the handkerchief from her, her eyes falling on your hands.
“Are you cold?”
“What? No. I’m fine.”
“But you’re shaking.” She argued, and you found yourself slowly losing your patience at her questioning. “Are you sure you’re—”
“Can everyone stop asking me that? I said I’m fine.” You spat, shocking everyone into silence, even yourself. “Sorry, I… I’m sorry. That was uncalled for, I…Yes, I’m alright.”
Somewhere from the floor came a scoff and you felt dread recoiling around your ribcage. You lowered the handkerchief from your face to see James dryly chuckling at you, his hazel eyes holding a fire that was only reserved for… Horrified, you realized he was about to tell your parents everything.
“James,” You whispered, pleading with your eyes to force him to take a step back. But your brother seemed done covering for you. “Please don’t.”
“James?” Your mother turned to him, who in return stood up from his spot on the floor, Lily reached out to pull him down again. “Is anyone going to fill me in as to what’s gotten into you both?”
He stared hard at you, then, “She was attacked.”
And just as the words slipped past his lips, chaos ensued with your parents, neither of them expecting those words to leave James’ lips. The air was sucked out of your lungs, and you reached to press the heel of your hand to your sternum, as if that would help your lungs accept the air you desperately seeked. You were not sure where you got the strength, but you marched towards him, betrayal in your eyes.
“You have no right,” You sneered, meeting his stormy gaze, he looked down at you, both your bodies pulsating with unresolved anger. “You promised!”
“I did not promise a damn thing to you. You’re my sister, and I cannot simply sit back and watch you fade away from us, can I?”
You scoffed. “It didn’t stop you before, hasn’t it?” He stepped back, as if your words alone had slapped him across his face. Your parents watched the scene with horror. “You’re my sister, you’re a liar. You made it very clear I am very much not your sister, James. In fact, I think you made it very clear to everyone that anyone can be accepted into your fucking marauders club except me.”
“Wait, so this is why you’re so miffed with me? Because I didn’t let you in the Marauders?” James had the nerve to laugh, and you stared at him in shock. “You have officially lost the plot, grow up, I beg you.”
“James!”
“No, James,” You met him head on, storm in your eyes as you tried to find your words. “Contrary to what your ego-driven mind might think, not everyone wants to be part of your glorified freak show.” You said, not at all regretting the venom in your voice. “You left me. You… you don’t even try, you think that just because you fought for me, breaking Snape’s nose, everything would be forgiven?”
“Look at what he did to you!” He pointed, squirming a finger inside the neckline of your jumper, pulling down to show everyone the bandage in your shoulder. You slapped his hand away with anger, but he grabbed your hand and raised it for everyone to see. “You can barely function with these shakes, look, you can barely put on a necklace!”
“James, stop,” Came Remus’ stern voice from somewhere in the room.
At this, your glossy eyes turned to Sirius, who, until that moment, had managed to sit back calmly and not let the whole ordeal get to him. He looked away as your betrayal was evident in your eyes.
“That wasn’t for you to tell, Sirius.” You said to him quietly, anger barely contained.
“Well, I, for one, am glad he told me. You could’ve gone the entire break hiding it from us had it not been for Sirius.”
“Like hiding it is such a hard task.” You snapped. “You barely notice my presence let alone a silly shake in my hands. I could’ve died that day and you wouldn’t have noticed at all, James.”
“You damn right could’ve bloody died! Go on, show them,” He stepped closer, and you barely registered his intention until it was too late.
With the help of his reflexes, you were a beat too late to stop him from lifting the hem of your jumper, exposing some of the fully healed scars in your stomach, the biggest one cutting through your navel in a nasty gash. Your mother gasped and her eyes filled with tears immediately, your father stared in shock, despair evident in his eyes. You pushed James away with all the strength you could muster, accidentally pushing your mother in the process, and pulled your jumper back down.
“You’re a complete, utter, dickhead, James.” You stared at him in shock, so did everyone in the room. “Fuck you, seriously, fuck you.”
“Darling,” Your mother stepped to you, but you were too mortified to even accept her hug. “How long… How did this…” She seemed desperate to find the right words to say, but a sob left her lips instead. You finally allowed the tears in your eyes to trail down your cheeks. “Why didn’t you say?”
“What would I even say?” You said desperately in between shallow breaths, your usually calm demeanor breaking. “That I was so depressed I riled him up so he could hurt me? That I didn’t even fight back? How was I supposed to explain that, mum? Tell me,” Before you could even process it, the feelings you had bottled up for months seemed to be done being held back in your chest. You chuckled humorlessly, “How would that conversation even go? That I’m so miserable, though I have no reason to be, that I walked towards the one person who would surely hurt me and enjoy it? This, exactly, is why I didn’t say. But here comes bloody James Potter who has to be everyone’s fucking hero! Are you happy now, James? Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to thank you in front of everyone that you saved my honor by hurting Snape? Well, there you go. Now leave me the fuck alone.”
Had you been less blinded by your anger, you probably would’ve waited for anyone to speak, or at least apologize for the amount of curse words you managed to say in a span of 20 seconds, but you simply exhaled deeply and stormed off towards your room, where you surely would spend the rest of your days crying away in embarrassment. Your tears fell hot and fast as you slammed the door behind you and sat on your bed, ignoring the stinging sensation in your shoulder by your harsh movements. Your hands shook impossibly harder to the point of actual pain in your joints, and pressed your face to your hands as you cried hard. Your sobs loud enough to drown the chaos from downstairs, your own doing, you thought angrily.
The door to your room opened, your brain was too shaken up and confused that when you opened your mouth to speak, a pained sob left your lips instead. Remus’ brows pinched with sadness as he walked to you, your disheveled hair, tear streaken cheeks and the dried trail of blood down your nose an exact mirror of your inner turmoil. He stepped closer and stretched his arms out, an open invitation in case you didn’t want to be touched, but you desperately needed something or someone to ground you before you could definitely reach a full blown breakdown. A breakdown days in the making.
“You’re okay,” He said as you stepped into his arms. He carefully caged you in, keeping you secure as you felt your chest shreding to pieces as you let out sob after sob. “No one is mad at you, we’re not, I promise you, not your mum, not your dad, no one. You’re okay.” He whispered, close to tears himself.
Soon, you felt a hand rubbing your back carefully, then, Lily’s gentle voice spoke, “Take deep breaths, honey,”
“I… I can’t,” You scraped out, voice raspy and worn out. “I…”
“Do it with me,” She instructed, and you pulled away from your hideaway to meet her gaze. Lily smiled sadly as she gently grabbed your hand and raised it to her own chest, where you felt her own heart beating, “Follow me, okay? You can.”
You inhaled and exhaled deeply, and she did it with you. As she busied you with breathing exercises, Remus walked to your bathroom to grab a cloth and damp it with warm water, when he walked back to your room, you seemed visibly calmer. He silently passed the cloth to Lily and sat beside you on the bed, she looked into your eyes and gently pressed it to your lips and under your nose, no-doubtedly cleaning the blood and snot off your face. None of you dared to speak, the only sound in the room the occasional hiccup leaving your lips, the fight leaving you tired and numb.
“I don’t know what crossed his mind to do that,” Began Lily, pointedly keeping her voice monotone to not spark another collapse from you. “That was very…”
“Barbaric?” Remus supplied, him not trying to keep his anger away from his tone. Lily frowned at him.
“Unlike him.” She said, then turned to you. “What he said, what he did… That was very cruel.”
“Yeah, well… I seem to always bring out the cruelest parts of him.” You finally spoke, and she hushed you to not strain your voice more.
“I think he’s very angry at himself, and he stupidly managed to show it in the worst way possible.” Remus pointed, the fight leaving his body as he gingerly placed a loose hair behind your ear. “It was very obvious to everyone that you were struggling but it passed right above him…”
“He didn’t need to make such a spectacle of himself though, and me. We could’ve talked it, if he had asked.”
Both Remus and Lily gave you a deadpan look.
“Okay, maybe not at first but why is it always me the one that has to reach out? I’m tired of embarrassing myself seeking for his attention.”
“You’re right,” The three of you looked up to find James standing at the threshold of your bedroom, a mix of feelings displayed in his face, regret being the most evident. “And I’m sorry.”
Lily looked at you, and you met her green eyes. She frowned, are you sure? Her eyes asked, and you nodded, grabbing the cloth from her hand. Both stood up and walked to leave, Lily ignoring the pleading look from her boyfriend as she closed the door behind her. The room fell eerily quiet as you stared at each other, assessing your stances.
“I’m sorry.”
“So you’ve said,” You mumbled, looking down at the cloth in your hands.
“I’m sorry,” He repeated, as he walked closer, you tensed immediately and something inside his chest cracked. “I shouldn’t have… I… It wasn’t my place.”
You closed your eyes, succumbing to the tears forming in your eyes and brought the cloth to clean your cheeks.
“I told you to not say anything, James. Why didn’t you listen? I… I don’t want mum or dad to get in between our mess.”
“Our mess,” He echoed, sitting next to you on the bed when you showed no signs of backing away again. “I did make a mess of everything, didn’t I?”
“It has always been, I was just the only one willing to see it as that.”
James frowned. “That’s not true.” He exhaled deeply, searching for your eyes. “I… I know I haven’t been the best brother to you but, but I wouldn’t say it reached a point where you feel like you can’t tell me anything.”
“James,” You chuckled dryly, not even trying to argue again but to get him to see where you were coming from. “You don’t even acknowledge me back at school, you practically pretend I don’t exist.”
“I’m sorry.”
“See, you keep saying that, but I don’t hear reasons why I should forgive you.”
“You shouldn’t forgive me, angel. In fact, what happened downstairs is the least punishment imaginable you could throw at me.” His chest filled with hope when you chuckled wetly. “I just… When I saw you in that cot, bleeding out and barely conscious, I felt like a part of me was being torn away… I had never felt so helpless in my life, knowing you would be taken away from me that easily and that I never tried to reach out? It’s been eating me alive, especially when you have been so calm about it, now I know why,”
You looked away, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to say that, I don’t know why I said it.”
“See, I think you did mean it. And it’s okay,” James scooted closer, his hand reached to yours in question, you placed it over his. He squeezed it four times, and you smiled despite the sadness in your heart. The mighty Potter duo, your own way of consoling each other when you were children. “Just, let me try again? Be a brother?”
“You never stopped being my brother, James, not to me.”
“To me neither, I’m still your brother, even if I haven’t shown it how you deserve it. But,” He paused, searching for your eyes, “Promise me that you’ll stop drifting away, that you’ll be in a distance where I can reach you.”
You swallowed, but nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to have it get this bad, I just, I just wanted you to notice me.” Something inside you broke, and so did your voice. Thankfully, you were close enough for James to reach over and hug you gently. “I didn’t realize you wanted to talk to me, or… or get closer. I’m sorry, I’ll stay close. I promise.” You whispered, and reached out to squeeze his hand, four times.
“I hope you can forgive me for what happened downstairs, too… I don’t… I just got so angry at myself, and… and you, but I shouldn’t have aired your pain like that.” He spoke after a long silence, voice barely contained as he fought back his own sob, not because he didn’t want to cry, but to get his feelings known. “It’s okay if it takes a while, too, I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and I regret it… I do.” I regret everything I did, it’s the bit he didn’t say, but you heard it clear in the pain in his voice.
You nodded, feeling satisfied with the heart to heart, “It might take a while, but thank you.” You dropped your head on his shoulder, and closed your eyes, finally letting your body relax against your brother.
Your brother, who was there, willingly, hugging you. It was a nice feeling to fall asleep to, you thought as you drifted off. James looked down as your head got heavier, and noticed in your parted lips that you had fallen asleep at some point of your shared silence. He smiled, and helped you get fully into the bed, carefully placing your belongings away.
He made to leave, but you pulled him back, your voice heavy with sleep, “Stay?”
And James, even in his drowsy state, couldn’t fight back the happiness he felt in his heart. He nodded, though you couldn’t see him, and laid next to you, your hands clasped together as you both drifted away holding onto each other, very much like you did once upon a time when you were little.
In your desk, messily thrown along with your things by James, was Pandora’s gift, and a note in neat handwriting that said:
Happy christmas sweet girl. Aquamarine, your birthstone, is said to possess healing properties known to cure even the most devastating of heartbreaks and tame the most powerful oceans into tranquility and peace. It also gives the bearer hope and clarity. Love, Evan and Pandora Rosier.
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The library was quiet in the way it only ever was right before it stopped being quiet.
She should’ve noticed him sooner.
She always did.
Barty Crouch Jr. didn’t walk into places so much as he disrupted them—like the air shifted around him out of habit. Even when he was trying to be subtle, he wasn’t.
And today, he wasn’t trying.
He stopped at her table.
Didn’t sit. Didn’t speak at first.
Just stood there like he belonged there more than the books did.
That alone made her look up.
And immediately regret it.
“again?”
It came out sharper than she meant it to.
Because it always did with him.
There was a split at his lip—fresh enough to still look angry. A bruise blooming along his cheekbone. Knuckles scraped like he’d stopped caring what pain felt like halfway through whatever fight he’d been in.
Barty blinked at her slowly.
Like she was the unreasonable one in this situation.
“Hello to you too.”
“Don’t start.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You walked in looking like you fought with a orc.”
He exhaled through his nose, faintly amused.
“I look fine.”
“You look like you lost.”
That did it.
Something flickered in his expression—quick, sharp, gone almost immediately.
“I didn’t lose.”
“Then why do you look like that?”
He leaned forward slightly, resting his palms on the table like he was considering whether to sit down or make this worse.
“It’s not important.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“And I’m usually right.”
She stood up so fast her chair scraped.
A few heads turned.
She didn’t care.
“You’re bleeding,” she said again, closer now.
“I’ve noticed.”
“Did you at least go to Madam Pomfrey?”
“No.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
“Are you done?”
“No.”
That got a small pause out of him.
Good.
She stepped closer, eyes scanning him like she could physically force the truth out of him if she looked hard enough.
“Who was it.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“It really doesn’t.”
Her hand hit his chest.
Hard.
Not enough to hurt him.
Not even enough to move him properly.
But enough to make the point.
“You don’t get to just—show up like this and act like it’s nothing.”
His eyes dropped briefly to where her hand was on him.
Then back up to her face.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m mad.”
“I noticed.”
She shoved him then.
Properly.
He took exactly one step back—more out of courtesy than force.
“Stop doing that,” she snapped.
“Doing what.”
“Acting like you’re fine.”
“I am fine.”
“You’re covered in blood.”
“It’s not mine.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
He studied her for a moment.
Long enough that the anger in her started to twist into something else she refused to name.
Then he sighed—like she was work he hadn’t asked for but kept showing up anyway.
And he moved.
Fast.
Before she could process it, his hand was at her waist—firm, anchoring her in place—and the other planted beside her head against the bookshelf, boxing her in without touching anything that would make it feel like she could escape even if she wanted to.
She didn’t step back.
She couldn’t, really.
Bookshelf behind her. Him in front of her. Too close for anything logical to survive.
Her breath caught anyway.
“You talk too much,” he said quietly.
“That’s your solution?” she snapped, still trying to hold onto the anger. “Just—kiss me when you don’t like what I’m saying?”
“Yes.”
That was all he gave her.
No explanation. No apology. No softness.
Just certainty.
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle.
It wasn’t asking.
It was immediate—like he’d decided her anger didn’t get to finish its sentence.
Her words broke apart against his mouth like they’d never been fully formed in the first place.
For half a second she resisted purely out of instinct—hands lifting like she might shove him again.
But then his grip at her waist tightened just slightly, steady rather than controlling, like he was holding her in place because he knew she’d otherwise disappear into her own fury.
And she didn’t push him.
Instead, her hands moved.
One slid up into his hair, fingers curling hard enough to tug slightly at the roots. The other found the back of his neck, pulling him closer without hesitation now that she’d stopped pretending she was still arguing.
He exhaled sharply against her mouth at that—something almost like approval, almost like amusement.
His kiss deepened immediately.
Like that had been the response he wanted.
The hand braced beside her head shifted slightly higher on the shelf above her, elbow locking in place as if the bookshelf itself was the only thing keeping him from fully closing the distance.
The other stayed at her waist, steady and warm through the fabric of her uniform, keeping her right where she was.
No space.
No argument.
Just them.
Her anger didn’t disappear—it just lost the ability to matter.
She pulled at his hair again, and that time he kissed her harder in response, like he’d been waiting for exactly that kind of reaction.
Somewhere in the background, a book slid off a shelf and hit the floor.
Neither of them reacted.
When he finally pulled back, it was only enough to breathe.
Not enough to leave.
His forehead almost touched hers.
His thumb at her waist didn’t move.
“You’re still mad,” he murmured.
“…Yes,” she said, but it came out less convincing than she meant.
“Good.”
That should’ve annoyed her.
It didn’t.
Instead, she tightened her grip in his hair like she was trying to make a point out of it.
The flat was quiet in the way it only ever was before sunrise.
No neighbors arguing through the walls. No traffic outside. No kettle whistling from the kitchen.
Just warmth.
You were half-buried beneath blankets and even more buried beneath Sirius.
Not intentionally.
At some point during the night he'd apparently decided personal space was a myth and had ended up sprawled across half the bed with one arm around your waist.
Your face was tucked against his shoulder.
His dark hair was in your face.
You hadn't moved.
Mostly because moving would require being awake.
And that sounded exhausting.
A hand brushed through your hair.
Slow.
Gentle.
Again.
You made a small sound and burrowed deeper into Sirius's shoulder.
Above you came a quiet laugh.
"Morning."
Remus.
You cracked one eye open.
Remus was sitting against the headboard, already awake and already dressed for work.
you sighed closing your eyes again.
"No."
His laugh got a little warmer.
"No?"
You shook your head against Sirius.
Sirius, somehow still asleep through all of this, only tightened his arm around your waist.
Wonderful.
Now you were trapped.
"Unfortunately," Remus said, "that's not how mornings work."
You didn't answer.
Remus knew by now that if you didn't want to talk, you simply wouldn't.
Instead, you reached for Sirius's arm and wrapped both hands around it.
A silent declaration.
I'm staying here.
Remus looked entirely unsurprised.
"You have work."
Nothing.
"You told me yesterday you couldn't miss today."
Still nothing.
"You were very responsible about it."
A muffled groan escaped your face-first position in Sirius's shoulder.
Remus smiled.
"There she is."
You considered pretending to be asleep.
Unfortunately, Remus had known you too long for that.
His hand found your shoulder.
Gentle.
Not pushing.
Just there.
"C'mon, love."
You made another unhappy noise.
Sirius finally stirred.
"Bothering my girl?"
His voice was rough with sleep.
Remus rolled his eyes.
"Trying to get your girl to work."
"Sounds fake."
"You both have jobs."
"mm but it’s so nice here."
You felt Sirius pull you closer.
As if he was helping.
Which he absolutely was not.
Remus pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You are the worst possible influence."
"Thank you."
You could practically hear Sirius grinning.
Remus ignored him and looked back down at you.
"You don't actually want to be late."
You sighed dramatically into Sirius's chest.
"No."
"No what?"
"no, i don’t want to be late."
"that’s my girl."
Another hand brushed through your hair.
Remus again.
Patient as ever.
"come on dove."
You opened your eyes.
Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple.
"get up and I'll make breakfast."
Sirius gasped.
"Favoritism."
"Be quiet."
"Unbelievable."
You finally pushed yourself upright.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Like someone being forced toward their execution.
Remus looked absurdly pleased.
“thank you.”
You immediately leaned sideways and collapsed against him instead.
Not standing.
Not getting out of bed.
Just relocating.
Remus wrapped an arm around your shoulders without hesitation.
"Progress."
Sirius flopped face-first back into the pillow.
"Tell her work is canceled."
"No."
"Tell her she's too pretty to work."
"No."
You hid a smile against Remus's shoulder.
“i’m not pretty enough to not work remi?” you asked teasingly.
sirius snorted
and remus flicked your head and got up.
Sirius pointed dramatically at you.
"See? She agrees with me."
You definitely did not.
But you also weren't correcting him.
Remus shook his head before pressing another quick kiss into your hair.
"Five more minutes."
"Then food."
"Then work."
“fine.” you huffed out running a hand through your hair.
remus smiled and left the room
sirius laid his head in your lap
“you know we could have a bed day.”
“yeah?” you asked amusement lacing your voice
“mhm skip work and maybe have a replay of last night.” he said kissing your thigh.
you rolled your eyes you hand moving to play with his hair.
“you’re ridiculous.”
“you love me.” he said with that sirius black grin.
“i do.” you replied defeated
“dove!” remus calls from the kitchen.
“damn,” sirius mutters and gets up allowing the sheets to fall off his legs “you think i could get remus to stay home if i walk like this?” he gestures to his naked body.
“probably.” you huff out a laugh.
“off i go then.” he said giving you a kiss on the forehead and headed off with a wink towards the kitchen.
hii everyone i’m sorry for not posting recently but right now i just want thank everyone for 20 followers it means so much to me that you all enjoy my writing especially because i’ve been struggling with my mental health currently and my blog and the community we started just makes me feel wanted and happy so thank you again <33
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