idk i was eating a kit-kat when i thot of this idea its prolly bad- keith eats his kit-kats by just,,, chompin into them and lance sees him do it and is like "dude,,,, what the FUCK" and keith is like "????"
no no this is solid™
Keith has no concept of human decency. Lance knew, already, but the confirmation comes in the form of sweet, sweet chocolate.
He finds him in the kitchen at four am, clad in only his pajama pants, unwrapping a Kit-Kat that’s very clearly coming from Shiro’s pantry cabinet. That’s regular, so he just grunts at him and goes to open the fridge. He picks up some juice and fetches himself a glass, but when he turns back… Keith is sat at the kitchen counter, chewing, and his Kit-Kat has what clearly look like bite marks. The entire Kit-Kat. “What the fuck,” he says, with sentiment.
Keith gulps, blinks at him, catches his horrified gaze that goes between him and the chocolate like a ping pong ball. “What,” he echoes. Like there’s nothing wrong with him eating like that.
“That’s not how you eat a Kit-Kat,” Lance finds it in himself to explain, ever so mindful. He pours the juice in the glass and goes to sit down too, right in front of Keith and the unjustly mauled chocolate bar.
Keith frowns. “There’s a specific way,” he starts, “to eat a Kit-Kat.” He sounds incredulous, but also really unimpressed. That’s Keith for you.
“Of course!” Lance splutters “I can’t believe- You can’t bite into it directly! You have to- to separate the pieces. That’s why they’re there.”
Keith arches his eyebrows, looks down at his chomped down Kit-Kat. “Why?”
“Because,” Lance takes time gulping down some juice, raising a hand to signal that he’s not done “to savour it.”
Understanding dawns on Keith’s face, followed by a smirk. “Why would you delay instant gratification,” he says, and nibbles at the Kit-Kat again. Lance will die young, he always knew. “Lance,” Keith licks his lips, offers him the bar “I’ve seen you eating french fries in groups of four.” His fingers are sticky with melted chocolate. Lance takes the bar anyway.
“I’m not convinced, but go on,” he says.
The next morning, when Lance bites down into another Kit-Kat bar without separating the pieces, Keith’s blooming smile is almost enough for him to ignore the feeling of being disrespecting the food gods. It’s certainly enough to make Shiro bench press them both and get them to buy him a new package with a whopping total of thirty six new Kit-Kat bars - but that’s another story.
I happily sighed as I unlocked the door
to my house. School had been killing me today. We were going to
have exams very soon, and I just didn’t feel ready for that. Neither mom or dad
had arrived home, which meant that I had the whole house to myself, which I was
really grateful for! I slowly made my way up the stairs. Immediately as I got
into my room I went over to my window and opened it to let in some fresh air to
make me relax. Afterward, I went into my bathroom, where I changed into a
sweater dress and knee high socks. I removed my makeup and pulled my hair up
into a messy bun.
I yawned as I looked at myself in the mirror, I really looked
tired, but I was tired, so why even think about it? I went back to my room,
where I decided to relax a little before I had to start making my homework,
therefore I decided to paint my nails. I decided to paint them black with small
details, but as I was painting my nails loud music started playing from the
neighbors’ house, which made me sigh loudly as I rolled my eyes. I knew it was
Justin, who was playing the loud music, and he only did it to piss me off! You
could say Justin and I were friends, but only outside of school. Our friendship
was a love/hate kind of friendship, but we did enjoy each others company. Bu Justin was the typical bad boy who got all
the girls and didn’t do his homework. I was the good girl who did all her
homework, and I went to bed a reasonable time!
harshly got up from my chair, then I went over to my window only to see Justin
standing there in only a towel.
can’t you put on your clothes in your bathroom after you’ve showered” I
shrieked as I covered my eyes. “Aww, come om Y/N, you know you don’t mind
me changing in here” he cheekily said, which made me roll my eyes. “I
so do not! And please turn down the music, I’m trying to relax in here” I
strictly told him, then I started to leave, but Justin’s next words caught me
could always come over and show you another way to relax,” he said, I
could practically see the smirk on his face, which made me furious. “I
would rather die than be in the same room as you!” I told him, I then
showed him my middle finger and went back over to my desk, where I continued to
paint my nails. I happily sighed as I heard Justin turn down the music. I finished
painting my nails, and then I waited for them to dry, which luckily didn’t take
long. I stood up from my chair and turned around. I immediately started
screaming as I saw someone lying on my bed. I stopped screaming as I realized
it was Justin.
are you doing in my room?!” I asked him as I grabbed one of my pillows and
threw it onto him. “Your words hurt me before, princess” Justin
ignored my question and got up from my bed, and it wasn’t until then that I
realized he was only wearing sweatpants, no shirt! I immediately covered my
eyes and turned around.
you please leave my room? I need to do my homework?” I asked Justin with a
sigh. Justin just chuckled and soon after I felt arms wrap around my waist. I
gasped and tried to get out of the arms, but they just wrapped around me
know, you look really good in just a sweater and socks” Justin whispered
in my ear. I could feel like breath on my neck, and surprisingly it felt really
nice. I soon came back to reality, when I felt Justin’s lips connect with my
neck. I pushed my elbow directly into his stomach, which made him let go and
groan in pain.
would you do that?! I was just trying to be nice!” he exclaimed, which
made me roll my eyes. “You were not just being nice! You really thought I
was that naive? I am not going to sleep with you because I don’t like you”
I told him. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared directly at Justin.
Before I could even acknowledge what was happening, Justin was walking towards
me. I started to walk backward, but unfortunately, I hit my wall, which made
are we?” he asked me, which made me roll my eyes. “Can’t you just go
back to your own room and stop bothering me?” I asked him, clearly
ignoring his question. “Where would the fun be in that?” he asked me
as he placed both of his hands above my face on the wall. He charmingly smiled
as he bit down on his lip, but this wasn’t his real smile. I had seen his real
smile, which he only used around his family, especially his little brother and
little sister. “What are you staring at?” Justin asked as he furrowed
his eyebrows. “Nothing” I lightly mumbled as I continued to study his
face. I hadn’t ever noticed the mole he had on his right cheek or the mole
under his left eye, but I certainly did now, and they made him look even more
got awakened from my trance by Justin’s piercing laugh. “You know, if you
like me this much, you can just tell me,” he said while he continued to
laugh. I rolled my eyes and pushed him away. Justin knew I had a crush on him,
and he just loved to tease me with it. “Shut up,” I told him. I laid
down on my bed and grabbed my phone to check Instagram.
you wanna do something?” Justin asked as he laid down beside me. I
shrugged my shoulders and continued to look through Instagram. I liked a few
pictures here and there until I felt Justin move closer to me. “What are
you doing?” I asked him with a chuckle. “I wanna see your hot friends
in bikinis, too” he whined which made me roll my eyes. “If you wanna look
at someone wearing practically nothing, then you should go hang out with
Brielle,” I told him with a scoff. “But I would rather hang out with
you,” he told me, then he grabbed my phone and locked it. “Can’t we
watch a movie or something?” he asked me as he started to pout.
“Justin, it’s Friday night, don’t you have a party to attend or
something?” I asked him. Justin immediately shook his head smiled at me.
“I mean the guys invited me to this party tonight, but I don’t really feel
like going,” he told me, then he laid down again. “You seriously
would rather spend your Friday night with me?” I asked him as I laughed in
disbelief. “Yeah, why is it that funny? Don’t you want me here?” he
asked me, then he got on top of me, which caught me off guard. Justin pinned my
hands above my face and cheekily smiled at me. “Of course I want you here,
I’m just a little surprised that you would rather spend the night with me
rather than party with your friends and then go home with some random
girl,” I told him. “I wanna spend my time with you. I realized I
haven’t been the best friend lately, and I would really like to make up for
that” he told me. I smiled at him, then I awkwardly hugged, since we were
laying in my bed, it was a little hard…
we were hugging, Justin’s phone started ringing. Justin sighed, then he took
his phone out of his pocket and looked at the caller. “I gotta take
this,” he told me, which I immediately nodded to. Justin stood up and
answered the phone, where he greeted the caller.
where are you?!” the guy on the phone said. “I’m kind of busy right
now, and I’m not coming to the party tonight, I already told you that,” he
told the guy. I don’t think he knew that I was able to hear their conversation,
but the next thing that was said really revealed me. “Oh, you’re hanging
with that nerd again, have you fucked her yet, like you said you would?”
the guy laughed, and I immediately gasped loudly. Was I really just someone
that Justin wanted to sleep with, then leave?
heard me gasp, and he immediately turned around and looked at me with wide
eyes. “I gotta go,” he said, then he ended the call. “Y/N, what
you just heard wasn’t true!” he said as he came over to me again. “I
promise you, you’re not a bet, it was just something he said in pure fun”
he continued. “As I recall, the guy on the phone didn’t say anything about
me being a bet,” I told him. My blood was slowly starting to boil, how
could he?! When Justin didn’t answer, I immediately knew all the answers to my
unspoken questions. “You’re disgusting, get out of my room, right
now!” I told him with a raised voice. “Y/N, I promise it’s not what
it seems like!” Justin pleaded, which made me laugh in disbelief. I was on
the brink of crying.
you just please get out of my room?” I told him as the tears started
streaming down my cheeks. “NOW!” I yelled as he didn’t move. Justin
sighed, then he turned and climbed out of the window to his own room.
“Whatever” he quietly whispered, and before you could even say another
word, I had closed my window and pulled the curtains down. I was heartbroken, I
actually thought I had made a friend, a friend that I could actually trust, but
I guess not…
for the fic trope meme: #4 for the princess diaries au maybe?
no 4: huddling for warmth
“What the fuck!” screams Yuri as he clambers out of the canal. Lord Altin is already on the bank, squeezing the water out of his stupid newsboy cap.
Stupid because no one under the age of 50 is allowed to make a newsboy cap work so well for him. Especially with a waistcoat as well. It should make him look like Yuri’s dedushka, but all it does is make him look good. And he shouldn’t be admiring his rival for the throne of Petersburg, yet here he is.
Here he is, indeed, crawling like a rat out of the canal because he’d tripped over his own hubris when he tried to kick Lord Altin into the canal and only got dragged in for his troubles. But Lord Altin doesn’t seem mad at all; he’s positively grinning as he shrugs off his waistcoat to wring that out as well. Yuri sneezes.
“I would lend you my coat, but it’s also wet,” says Lord Altin, his dark eyes sparkling in amusement.
“I probably deserve that,” grumbles Yuri. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the maids running towards them. The palace gardens are ridiculously huge, though; it’d be a full five minutes to reach the canal from where they are.
“What were we even arguing about?” wonders Lord Altin. Yuri has no idea. He thought he’d left these stupid crush-like emotions in high school, around the time His Ridiculous Balding Majesty showed up on his doorstep and told him he was next in line to the throne of Petersburg. And yet his heart hammers on.
“Probably something stupid,” Yuri mutters. “Maybe it was something about our partners.”
Lord Altin hums. “Miss Crispino is very accomplished, though,” he says.
“Yeah, you said that like, at least ten times.” Yuri rolls his eyes. “Too bad she’s completely gay for my best friend.”
Lord Altin chuckles. “Fair,” he concedes, looking out across the garden. Yuri’s teeth chatter involuntarily; after a moment he feels warmth pressed against his side, an arm draped casually around his shoulder. He looks up, and Lord Altin’s face is dangerously close, water dripping from his lashes as he looks back down at Yuri’s rapidly-reddening face.
“What,” says Yuri intelligently.
“You were cold,” replies Lord Altin.
“I’d rather die of pneumonia,” mutters Yuri, but he burrows in deeper against the other man nonetheless. He feels the way Lord Altin’s chest rumbles in laughter, and tries to quell the shiver down his spine at the feeling. This is just for warmth, until the maids arrive.
At least, that’s what he tells himself. Because he’s very reluctant to peel away when the maids do arrive. Though the towels are fluffy and warm, they’re not a match for the secure feeling of Lord Altin’s arm around him. So he tries to look away, tries to walk back to the castle with his heart hammering loudly in his ribcage. Though the footsteps crunching the gravel behind him tell him that Lord Altin is close behind, he doesn’t dare look back.
“Do I even want to know?” asks Viktor at the garden door, barely even looking up from his tablet. Next to him, Agent Katsuki arches an eyebrow for the King. Yuri’s scowl deepens.
“No,” he snaps, and sweeps back into the palace in high dudgeon.
Author’s Note: Hi! This is just an introduction to remind the reader that this is an AU story, so if something seems impossible in our world today (or like a year ago), that is why. This story is set in present time, and our planet is exactly the same, except where the characters live (in the U.S) there are laws that have changed the way they live. This story is based on a set of laws in which couples are paired based on their zodiac signs - and incompatible pairs are ruled out by law. Also, just one final reminder, none of the things mentioned about any of these characters are necessarily true. This story is obviously 100% fiction, AND this chapter is mostly an introduction and explanation of the world they live in - though this is only in the U.S - all the other countries in the world do not live by these rules in the story. Thank you so much for reading.
The day that I was born had always determined my entire future. Our world has never made sense to me. You’re probably wondering how I can say that, right? The answers pretty simple – our lives are decided for us. A person can only fall into one category – and it is all decided based on the day you enter this world. As a Taurus – my birthday is May 20th - I fell into the population of Earth signs. Straight out of high school graduation, at the age of 18, every young man and woman will receive in the mail, a name that will change their lives forever.
This name is meant to be their “perfect match.” You see, about 100 years ago, the U.S decided it was time to rid our nation of divorce. In order to do so, they needed a system that would set together two people who were just about perfect for one another. They call it “The Crossing."
Now, you’re probably wondering how these perfect couples are paired. There are two different aspects of The Crossing. The first is the “Astrological System.” This system ensures that the two people that are put together are compatible Zodiac signs, and fall under the same category of said signs. It is absolutely illegal for two persons of non-compatible signs to be together in any format that is not considered platonic. This is enforced by a punishment which is not discussed outside the government because no one seems to know exactly what happens. All that is known is that if caught, one of an unmatched pair is taken by officers, and they don’t ever return.
The second aspect of matching is greatly encouraged, but not required. Any person eligible to be matched has the opportunity to complete a questionnaire type assessment, which is put into a database, and looks for the most similar answers.
It just does not make any sense to me, though. I am a Taurus, but both my Mother and my little sister, Robin are of the Leo sign, and I love them more than anything. Their both amazing and our signs have never been "discordant” - as the government calls it - as far as I’m concerned.
Then there’s my stepdad. Chuck (pictured below). The irony is that he’s a Capricorn - one of my signs “most compatible” other signs, yet I hate that – pardon my language - bastard more than anyone else to walk this earth. The reason why? He’s not the man my mother wants to believe he is. She’s convinced herself that she loves him, and I can’t blame her - he puts on quite the façade, acting like he couldn’t hurt a fly. Acting like he loves my sister and me, and Hell, if I didn’t know his true colors he could have had me fooled. But I am no fool. I know who he really is beneath the surface of his pale skin.
The fact that my mother seems to think she’s found love again, isn’t the reason Chuck and I aren’t “compatible.” I am not upset that he tried to replace my father - what kind of daughter would I be to deprive my mother of the happiness she deserved and needed. No, my problem lies within his character, which has proven itself within the countless bruises that adorn MY pale skin. I’ve received countless blows from him, all because I stepped in front of my little sister the first time he ever showed signs of violence, and because I ‘defied’ his dominance. I’d do it a million times again if I had to, and I have had to. I’m never going to let the world hurt my sister the way it did me.
Chuck Blaine just is not, and never will be someone I am capable of trusting. In fact, it is BECAUSE of him that I lack the ability to place my trust in any man, cold hearted or otherwise. Maybe that’s why within my stubborn heart I dreading this day so much.
Since my father was no longer in the picture, my mom was placed back into the crossing system. Specifically, the crossing system for widows and widowers. The way it works is men get their choice at their second wife. As if the first crossing couldn’t be bad enough, the second opportunity is even worse. He acts as if he thinks he and my mother are destined for one another, but I know what he was really after. Money.
My family wasn’t rich, but when my father died in his car crash, he left every bit of money he had AND his family inheritance to my mother to support our family. My heart aches as I think of my father. A drunk driver hit him, while he was making a turn, on his way home from work one night. The person driving the other car ran a red light.
My father was one of the kindest people you could ever meet. The saddest part about losing him was that I remembered little of that night. I was only 9 years old, and it was obviously the hardest thing that I have ever faced in my life, so I guess I must have repressed the memories. So how does a family like mine, that’s been through hell and back end up with a freaking monster?
Well, when your “partner” has passed away, you are given the opportunity to be paired with someone else, of your choosing from eligible “matches.” Divorce is absolutely forbidden, once you’re married, but if you don’t want to marry your match, you can not be re-matched, regardless. Once you’re matched that’s it - you don’t have to love one another romantically, but every year 5 of the new pairs are assigned to “Populace.” This means they have to have a baby. Though, if you DO love your partner and wish for a family you’re allowed to create one on your own. Luckily, my mom wasn’t placed under that duty.
So, here I am. Sitting on my front porch, swaying back and forth on the squeaky old auburn colored, wooden bench swing, drinking tea from Dad’s old cobalt blue mug, waiting to receive the name that’s going to change my life forever. Yep, that’s right, today is my “big day.” Today’s the day I receive my future in an ugly orange envelope. And it will all start with a simple name, printed onto a sheet of paper. I hear the creaking of the front door and look to my left to see my mom, smiling at me.
“Today’s the day, huh?” She asks, making her way over to me. She gently sits next to me. I avert my eyes to the mug between both of my palms, watching the steam escape from inside.
“Today’s the day,” I nod slowly. I crinkle my eyebrows, not knowing exactly how to feel about the situation. To be honest, it isn’t really possible to know how to feel about your crossing until you are holding the results in your hand - maybe not even then.
“Hey,” she nudges me gently with her shoulder. I look up into her beautiful blue eyes. Through everything, my mother somehow always managed to have some sort of positive aura about her. I always felt it most when I looked at her eyes. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, something she always did when I was trapped in my thoughts before she continues. “I’m sure they’ll be great. You earth signs normally are, I mean, you are my whole world kid,” I let out a weak chuckle. My mom and her cheesy jokes, always trying to lighten the mood.
“Well, you and Robin,” she says. I smile, nodding. She takes hold of one of my hands, lifting it from the mug, she kisses the Taurus symbol on my wrist, that was forced onto me straight our of graduation as a form of identification.
She wraps both arms around me and pulls me in for a hug. I close my eyes breathing in her lavender scent. She must have been in her garden, I think to myself. I am going to miss those white roses outside my bedroom window. I open my eyes at the sound of the mail truck skidding to a halt on the street in front of our house. My heart practically stops in my chest, then and there, as I realize that it’s time. I stand up slowly, after placing my mug on the wood floor of the porch, underneath the swing. Tea, like my peace of mind, is going to have to wait.
“Madeleine Parker?!” The postman announces. It almost sounds as if he’s looking for the winner of some sort of life-altering raffle.
“Uh..here” I mumble, waving once to him. It almost feels like a teacher calling roll at school.
“Congratulations,” he says with a warm smile, handing me my package.
“Thank you” - I force a smile and grit my teeth behind it. I say thank you not because he’s so excited for my life to placed under someone else’s jurisdiction, but because it’s the polite thing to do when someone hands you something that belongs to you. No matter how unfortunate it is that it belongs to you.
“Well?” my mom says. I send her a questioning look, starting to tremble on the inside. “giving me looks is not going to change the fact that the rest of your life is inside that envelope. Take your time, but open it, sweetheart,” she says. She walks up to me, kissing me on the head before turning on her heel, and walking back up the porch steps, and swinging the front door back open. I look back down at the envelope in my hands. I stare at it for a second, observing the earth symbol on the front – signifying that I and my new partner are obviously both earth signs - before slowly flipping it to the seal, and tearing it open slowly with my thumb. I take out the sheet of paper and read every bit of information as fast as I can.
-Name: Niall James Horan
-Origin: Ireland – relocation year: 2016
Ireland?…that’s pretty cool I guess. He clearly moved here this year.
..otherwise, he would have completed the Crossing like 4-5 years ago. Since he wasn’t 18 when he moved here, guess it was his choice.
-Birthday: September 13, 1993
-Phone Number: ***-***-****
Why are they giving me his phone number? What am I supposed to text this person? “Oh hey Niall, my names Maddie I am the person you’re stuck with till the day we die, wanna grab some coffee?” I scoff before my eyes scroll down further until they reach our “Assignment section.”
-Assigned Living: 14527 Rose Hill Drive
Rose Hill Drive?… that’s one of the wealthiest living spaces available to new pairs….oh god. Mom must have thrown some of the inheritance into my funds. Oh god, what if we..
-Assigned to Populace: No
Oh thank god. No offense, Horan but you’re still a complete and total stranger as of right now.
Music…interesting. Also, I need to get a job urgently… if we’re going to be living in one of the expensive neighborhoods I am going to have to step up.
-Relocation date: 6/1/17
Three Days…I have three days to meet this stranger and move in with them.
Congratulations and best of luck to you Ms. Wilkinson, and Mr. Horan.
Congratulations? Really? How many people are going to say that stupid word to me today?! Is that the best you’ve got?… Whatever. Sighing, I reluctantly walk back up the creaky old porch steps and grab my mug from under the swing before making my way back through the front door, my papers folded under my arm. I walk past the front steps, towards the kitchen, immediately sensing my mother cooking bacon. I place my mug on the island counter, and plop myself down onto one of the barstools with a slight huff, before tossing my packet onto the island as well.
“Well?” My mom says, peering over her shoulder, a curious look on her face. I pick up the package and read to her everything I read in the front yard. All the while, she cooks breakfast for my sister and I. Luckily, Chuck’s job requires him to get up early in the morning. She puts some bacon on a plate and hands it to me when I get up and add more milk to my tea.
“He seems…” she pauses for a second, “..interesting.” I can’t help but laugh briefly.
“You seem pretty calm for a woman who’s daughter just told her she’s about to move into a house with a boy nearly 5 years older than her.” I look at her amusedly.
“In our world, age is clearly just a number, my dear.”
I scoff, “Ya until you turn 18, then it’s not your world - it’.”s one place, and one person until the day you die.”
“Maddie, I know you don’t like it sweetheart, but-“
“It’s the world we live in, and we can’t change it - yes I know,” I sigh.
“So have you gotten in contact with this..” she pauses, clearly forgetting his name. I quirk an eyebrow at her, smirking.
“Niall?” I ask, earning a nod from her, the dopey amused grin never leaves my face as I continue, “and, no I haven’t reached out to him. I wouldn’t even know what to say if I did.”
“Well, did you look him up on that..instasnap thing you’re always on?” Realizing she’s trying to say Instagram, I try really hard not to laugh at her, but ultimately fail.
“You mean Instagram?” I snigger, plopping my last piece of bacon in my mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing it, all while sending my mom an amused look.
“Ya…That.” She says, embarrassed. She turns back to the stove, flicking the switch off, bringing the pan over to the sink.
“No, I haven’t but, maybe I will later.” I sigh. Talking to a strange man? As mentioned, clearly not exactly something that appeals to me.
“Alright, well it’s almost time for Robin’s dance lesson…I think she was looking for her shoes, maybe you could help her?”
“I’m on it,” I quickly rise from the wooden stool, taking one last sip from my tea mug, and place it in her expecting hand. When she turns and starts scrubbing the dishes I quickly walk around the island, and give her a quick kiss on the cheek, placing my dish in the sink before exiting the kitchen and starting to climb the creaky old steps, making my way towards the second floor. I make my way towards Robin’s door.
When I reach Robin’s white door, I lift my right arm, and gently brush over the pink flowers with my fingers. Every time they catch my eye - even as I walk to my own room - I remember painting them for her on her 7th birthday after she begged me to. Smiling to myself briefly, I knock on it gently before slowly opening it.
“Robin?” When I step inside, my heart nearly breaks at the sight of my sister all dressed in her ballet outfit and sitting on her bed crying quietly. Her hands are in her lap, but she quickly raises one to wipe her tear from her eyes before dropping it once more, realizing that I am in her room. She never liked when I saw her cry - she probably learned that from me. I always hated the way people stared at me when I showed emotion. I could always sense them thinking I was the fragile girl who’s dad died.
“Robin? What’s wrong?” I ask, worried, rushing over and kneeling in front of my sister. I grab both her hands and look up at her, my thumb gently brushing over both of her small hands, that are damp from trying to fight her tears. The first thing I notice is her eyes. Her bright blue eyes that she got from our mom – full of sadness, her cheeks tinted red from crying. I swear, their eyes looked like the ocean. Hearing her sniffle practically breaks my heart into two severed pieces.
“What’s wrong little bird?” I ask with a frown forming on my face. She smiles slightly at the nickname I gave her so many years ago. When she finally speaks, she gets choked up at her words.
“Everyone always leaves me..” she mumbles, fresh tears forming in her eyes.
“Robin..” I gasp slightly, taken aback by her words.She wraps her arms around me and cries into my neck, her sobs echoing through the small pink bedroom my mom and I decorated when I was just 10 years old after we found out Robin was a girl. When my dad was killed in the accident, my mom didn’t even know she was expecting. She found out three months later.
“Don’t cry little bird,” I whisper.
“But you’re gonna’ leave, to live with that Irish boy I heard you talking about…” Typical Robin, always sneaking about catching my conversations with mom. “and-and I’m not gonna see you anymore, a-and step-dad - h-he’s gonna-”
“Hey!” I quietly exclaim, gently grabbing her sides, pushing her back slightly so she’s looking me in the eyes. “I would never let anything bad happen to you, would I?” I quirk a brow at her. She looks down shaking her head, where her amber brown hair is pulled into a tight bun, with some fly away hairs near her face. I reach out and tuck them behind her right ear.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily little bird,” I shake my head smiling. She pulls me in for another hug, her tear stained cheek brushing against my shoulder. Her sobbing quiets down eventually, as I rub her back soothingly.
“I’ll-I’ll still be your best friend right?” She whispers, her voice laced with hope. Even at the age of 9, she was just as sensitive as I am.
“Of course you will,” I say chuckling at her, “Now wipe those tears, we have pesky little ballet shoes to find,” I say, earning a giggle from her in the process cupping both of her cheeks in my hands and wiping the wiping the rest of her tears – something my mom once did on a night when I cried, missing my dad. My mom was the one who always enforced strength - crying was a weakness to her most of the time. Though I suffered whenever I’d mention my longing to see my father again, or to get to say goodbye to him, she’d shut me out. It was gut-wrenching but ultimately made my skin thicker, maybe even tougher. It made that night she comforted me incredibly easy to remember, but the thought still sends a sad pang to my heart. I swallow the lump in my throat as Robin backs out of our hug, taking one of my hands, we start to look for her shoes.
Once Robin and my mom had left I decided to take a long shower to try and ease the stress weighing on my mind. I stepped into the en suite bathroom connected to my bedroom. I flicked on the lights, before removing my sweats, and gray v-neck T-shirt, switching on the water to the shower and folding the clothes neatly. I placed them on top of the closed toilet seat, and draw back the old blue shower curtain, stepping into the bathtub, where the shower water circles the drain.
I let my lungs consume the steam, breathing it in as I run my fingers gently through my messy dirty blonde hair, that’s been ruffled by my sleep. I got my hair color from none other than..you guessed it, my father. My mom loved to tell me I had his eyes too –that I was gifted with his blue-green irises, though my eyes actually changed color every now and then. Some days I would look in the mirror and see my dad’s eyes staring back at me, and others my mom’s beautiful blue orbs would surprise me in the morning. There was even an occasion in which my eyes would look almost gray.
Grabbing my shampoo, I squirt some out into my hand, then place it back on the white marble ledge of my bathtub. After scrubbing the suds of argon oil shampoo through my hair, which had practically grown past my breasts by now, I then do the same with my conditioner, before tying my hair into a bun. Something I have been doing since I learned you’re supposed to let the conditioner sit for a minute or two. Imagine how dumb I felt for not knowing that little fact. I then scrubbed my body clean of sleep as well, and wash my face before rinsing my conditioner, and then wrapping my gray towel around my body.
I step out of the shower slowly and take in my surroundings for one of the last times that I’ll be able to. Or at least the last time I will be a resident in this house. I always enjoyed my bathroom because it was simple, but it had an almost secret beauty to it. Flicking the lights back off, I walk back into my bedroom, grabbing the clothes I previously folded and throwing them back on. It’s not like I’m going anywhere today. I try to shake away the thoughts of how much I will miss this place- my home, grabbing my iPhone from the nightstand, letting out a puff of air, I collapse on top of my bed.
I think back to my conversation with Robin. Robin’s always been the kind of young girl that thinks there is good in everyone. That is probably the biggest difference between us. She truly has the purest, kindest little heart I have ever seen in all my days on this earth. It’s no surprise that someone as innocent as she would want to believe there’s good in this messed up world. I see so much of my father’s spirit inside her. What troubles me is how scared she is of those who have proven not to have a nice bone in their body- i.e Chuck. Chuck. Just the thought of that disgusting man’s name sends bile to my mouth, so much so that I almost gag.
I pull up Instagram typing the name Niall Horan in the search bar, before hitting the search button. I click on the users that pop up until I think I have found the Niall Horan I am looking for – when the bio reads Mullingar Ireland, 23. I request to follow the account before tossing my phone back on my bed. Just when it hits my duvet, though, my screen lights up with a number I don’t recognize.
- Found my Instagram, eh?
-Oh, btw this is Niall – Niall Horan. I hope you don’t mind – my letter gave me your number, I’ve been meaning to send a message your way all day.
I chuckle, quite frankly surprised by his kindness. Something about it seems so..genuine. I start typing back quick response-
Hi Niall, I’m Madeleine….But I am guessing you already knew that. You can just call me Maddie, though. And yes that was me that followed you on Instagram. Sorry I haven’t sent you a message..couldn’t really think of what to say, to be honest.
-That’s alright! I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to meet up at some point maybe tomorrow? We could grab some coffee or something if you want.
Sure, But you should know I am more of a tea kinda girl.
-Tea it is then! I’ll text you tomorrow so we can work out a time.
Sounds good! Talk to you then.
I shut off my iPhone, and toss it back down onto my bed before lying down on my back. I just lay there, staring at my ceiling. Well, Niall Horan, it looks like I’ll see you tomorrow. And..every day after that for the rest of my life I guess….
Hermione struggles to get through the day of her 16th birthday, which her all friends forgets (except Harry). She is also plagued by her ongoing infatuation with the very popular and very attractive Quidditch player, Ron Weasley. After birthday party, Hermione and Harry begin talking and she confesses her love for Ron. Upon hearing this, Harry tells her that Ron had been asking about her, and they agree that Hermione should just go and talk to him.
Tired eyes stared down all around the table. Pidge pushed her glasses up her face, past her bangs to rest on her head, and gave a long, suffering sigh. From beside her, she could see Matt look up and glance her way, having heard her pull a signature Shiro sound, but she couldn’t help it. Not anymore.
Lance, as usual, was the first to verbalize his complaints. “Allura,” He whined, shifting in his seat so he could lean forward, “You always make your campaigns so long . Can we just go to a tavern or something? We’re still recovering from the giant nest!”