Request: Just a lot of requests asking for part two to Our Daily Routine Rating: T Warnings: Angst Word Count: 1010 A/N: I am SO sorry this took so long!
It was as if everything had been thrown off course when Gaston stopped coming to your home and tried to woo you. There were no more flowers and long speeches that you looked forward to and no more Gaston. As more time passed, you lost hope in him coming back.
To your dismay, however, your love for him just grew with each day without him. The throb in your heart made you breathless and you wished for the old days when Gaston would come and bring a smile to your face with a funny story from his war adventures and a giant bouquet of flowers. Just the thought of your old times with him would bring an ache to your heart and you missed him even more.
You knew you could have just tried to find him, but you were afraid. Afraid of him rejecting you. Afraid of him leaving again. The pain you felt the day when he stopped coming was like a hurricane of emotions. You didn’t want to come back to that pain.
Your mother sensed that something was wrong too and began to ask you questions about where Gaston was, and you simply replied with a half-hearted shrug. You didn’t really want to find out where he was either.
“Y/N, you need to get out and find him. You’ve been sulking around the house for three weeks. Go do something!” Your mother sighed as she looked at your miserable form. As much as you wanted to fight back and keep hiding in your blankets forever, your mother did not allow it. She kicked you out of your bed and encouraged you to go out and enjoy the sunshine.
Sighing, you hastily made your bed then made your way to your desk. A couple of letters were spread across the light wood. Over the past few days, you reread all the letters he gave you and your heart felt heavier with each word you read. You wanted Gaston back. So you started planning.
You started writing a heartfelt letter of your own, declaring your feelings for him and how you loved him all along. The words danced and shuffled across the paper, until finally, the letter was complete and ready to give to Gason. You were going to say the letter to Gaston and tell him all your unspoken feelings.
Looking up at a mirror, you flinched. Your hair was a mess from sulking in your bed and there were dark, sullen bags under your eyes. You mentally facepalmed yourself. Going up to Gaston like this could ruin your whole plan! You quickly ran to your bathroom and started preparing, gathering all the expensive soaps and oils from your mother’s “secret” storage box.
You spent an hour fixing yourself up, practicing your speech, and hunting through your closet for the perfect outfit. If you’re doing this, you’re going to make it the most special declaration of feelings Gaston would ever get. It was Operation Get The Gaston.
Finally, with your speech held in front of you and your hair looking its best, you were ready. You quickly glanced at all the old gifts Gaston brought to you and psyched yourself up. You were ready as you’ll ever be.
The minute you were out the door, you started hunting for Gaston. You’re not going to stop until you tell him everything. First, you looked for him at the local town’s pub. And the search began.
It took you hours, but you never found the handsome brunette or his bold red blazer. You checked everywhere in the town. The salon, the mirror shop, even the damn library! But still, your search for Gaston was unsuccessful. You were truly disappointed, but you weren’t going to give up. Not now, not ever. You were going to tell him about your feelings even if it was the last thing you would ever do.
Sighing, you made your way to the town’s marketplace to try and find Gaston here. Plus, you were hungry, so might as well. You walked through the twists and curves of the surprisingly large market, looking at every face you saw. None of them matched the smug and cocky face you loved.
Then, you saw him.
You swore your heart skipped a beat and all your plans went out the window. He was there, in all of his glory.
Walking closer, you saw that he was talking to someone. Since a large crate was blocking the person from view, you couldn’t identify the person. You assumed it was LeFou or one of his “admirers.” He was never alone anyway. Grabbing your composure, you took your speech from your pocket and confidently marched up to him.
When you were finally close enough to Gaston, you realized who he was talking to. It was Belle. And she was holding the same old flowers he used to get you.
Your heart skipped a beat again, but in an unpleasant way. It was the kind that made you want to throw up and run as far away as you possibly could. You were shocked. For once in your life, you were out of words. The letter dropped to the ground.
Suddenly, Belle turned towards you, a small smile on her face. “Oh hello, Y/N!”
Your eyes widened, and you struggled to gather your senses and come up with a reply. “B-Bonjour, Belle!”
You thought that maybe, just maybe, Gaston would turn around, look straight in your eyes, and say that it was all a joke and you would both laugh. But he didn’t. Instead, he looped his arm around Belle’s shoulder and walked straight past you, not even sparing a single tiny glance at your shaking figure.
He didn’t even look at you.
You wanted to crumble right there at the marketplace’s floor, but you didn’t. Not in front of other people. So you took off running, farther and farther away until the town was no longer in sight.
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✿dream job: there’s a bunch of them and i’m really not sure… it might be nice to work on the antarctic research station in some way. or alternatively some kind of policy advice thing for the government or an organisation like the UN - a role where my opinions are valued and acted on, but i’m not in a position of direct authority?
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summary: During an important mission, Kenma’s irritation at his partner’s flirtatious antics brings things to a confrontation where true feelings are revealed.
Classical music plays softly beneath scattered conversations throughout the ballroom. The orchestra sits just outside a large window that overlooks the back garden, the music wafting in from the balcony. Waiters and waitresses in smart black and white weave in and out of the crowd, carrying trays of appetizers and drinks. The entire place holds an aura of sophistication and expense, from the pyramid of champagne glasses to the swan ice sculpture.
Kenma, standing near a marble pillar in the back of the room, feels distinctly out of place. Although he’s wearing a tuxedo that no doubt cost his department over 100,000 JPY, tailored and pressed to fit him like a glove, he’s not used to the expensive tastes of this side of Japan. He grew up in a modest town in a smaller district. He knows nothing of fine dining, nor does he really care. Even now he has to resist the urge to tug at his hair, pulling it from the tail it’s tied in at the nape of his neck, secured with a black satin ribbon. The style leaves his gaze too open, exposing his face. He doesn’t like it.
“Kozume, you’re supposed to be mingling with the guests,” a small voice crackles to life in his ear. Akaashi sounds irritated, but Kenma remains where he’s standing, swirling the untasted wine in its glass absently.
“Kuroo’s doing enough mingling for the both of us,” he says in reply, trying not to sound bitter but unable to keep a sharp edge from coloring his tone.
His partner has been flirting up a storm ever since they arrived at the party. Kenma knows that their mission is to get close to the host’s son, a high-ranking member of the local yakuza. Apparently the young man has information about a shipment of illegal weapons coming in from Russia. They’re supposed to bug his personal cellphone, but he never goes anywhere without it and a handful of bodyguards. So their plan is to isolate him somehow and pickpocket the phone, to return it after the bug has been placed. Kenma highly doubts any of that requires Kuroo to act as though he’s trying to get into the guy’s pants.
“Oho? Is that jealousy I hear?” Bokuto asks, his voice lilting with curiosity.
“No.” Doesn’t the idiot realize that Kuroo can hear everything they’re saying as well? Akaashi and Bokuto are supposed to be backup, waiting outside in an unmarked van, on alert for any sign of trouble. Giving commentary on Kuroo and Kenma’s actions is not a part of their job description.