You assumed you were the only one who had superpowers. You
were adopted, you didn’t have any relatives that you knew. And whenever you
tried to find out who your parents were, the adoption agency refused to give
you any information. You never told any of your friends about the power that
you had, and you kept it to yourself. Well except for that one time.
You quickly erased that thought from your head.
“Y/N, where’s the document for Washington? He needs it
right now.” Laurens said, peeking into your office. You nodded, telling him that
you’ll be right out. You watched him close the door, and levitated the papers,
glancing through for the file. Once you found it, you grabbed it with your
hand, walking out in the hallway on the way to Mr. Washington’s office.
You were able to levitate objects with your mind, well mostly your mind. There was some hand movement that was needed, but besides that, yes, your mind. There were some other things you could do, but all of it was less important. Not anything worth mentioning.
You walked past Mulligan’s office, seeing him being scowled
at by Hamilton. You hesitated, looking at the papers in your hand. Hamilton
seemed made at the Irishman, and you could tell Mulligan was getting more and
more furious by the second. You walked into the room, knocking on the door
once. They both looked at you, Hamilton’s face quite red.
“Hey Ham, what’s up? Why are you yelling at Herc?” You
asked, mildly concerned at the throbbing veins on his face. He placed his hand
on his forehead, showing you the plans in his hands.
“The design for this coat is too expensive to make. Using
cotton would be better than buying the stuffing that Mulligan wants. And he
won’t change his stance on it, no matter how much I talk to him.” Hamilton
explained, and you held in your laughter at his hands on his hips. You glanced
over the plans once, and nodded.
“Herc’s plan makes sense, Ham. The stuffing is much more
softer and fixes the problem that customers complained about. I know your head
of accounting and all, but using these materials make more sense. Herc’s head
of design, he knows what he’s talking about.” You replied, giving Herc a smile.
“Sorry Ham man, no can do.” He frowned, and Herc laughed,
looking at the two of you.
“Stop calling me that.”
“I’ll see you later, I have to go see Washington.” Hamilton
sighed, walking out of Herc’s office. Once he was out of view, you turned to
Herc. He had his arms across his chest, staring at you. “What?”
“You didn’t agree with Hamilton? Why not?”
“And why are you questioning me?” You asked, leaning
against the door frame. He shrugged, standing up out of his chair. As he walked
slowly around the room, you watched him, taking in his massive figure. He was
tall and brawny, different from anyone else in the office. He touched a mannequin
that rested next to his desk, glancing at you.
“Because you always take Hamilton’s side with everyone else
but me.” He grinned, winking at you. You were a very loud person, but at this moment,
you were lost for words.
“No, I, no.” You said, stuttering. He laughed, shaking his
head. You smiled, looking down at the gray carpet.
You couldn’t lie, Mulligan was attractive. Immensely
attractive, in both physical appearance and personality. He was the only reason
you smiled while you were in here. He made you laugh, he was kind, and there were
endless conversations between the two of you. Every day, he was the most
interesting part of it.
“Y/N!” You heard Washington’s booming voice through the
office, and instantly remembered that you had the files he needed. As you waved
goodbye to Herc, he walked over to you, touching your arm.
“Hey, before you go, do you want to get some dinner with me
later? It’s on me.” He said, nervousness in his eyes. You bit your lip.
You tried not to get attached to people, that’s why you had
few friends. This power, this thing that you had, it wasn’t ordinary. The last
time you told someone about you, they freaked, calling the police on you. Of
course, they could not prove what you did, but it did cause too much trouble.
You eventually moved away from that neighborhood, in a completely different
state. You considered his dark brown eyes, and saw nothing but innocence. You
“I won’t turn down free food.” You said, smiling at him. He
let out a breath, his anxiety swept away. You quickly went to Washington’s
office, not wanting him to wait any longer.
Later that night, you and Mulligan were walking together,
enjoying the cool temperature. The two of you had dinner at his restaurant,
both of your underdressed. He did not seem to care, walking in there with his
hand in yours. It made you blush, and thankfully, the lights were dim, hiding
the red color on your face. He let you pick anything on the menu, and you
noticed that they did not show the prices. He calmed your questioning gaze,
telling you that he was friends with the owner. After he convinced you that it
was not expensive, you picked a meal from the menu. It was excellent, and he
was pleased that you enjoyed it as well.
Your arm was wrapped in his, and you two walked slowly in a
park, talking about anything and everything.
“Do you remember when Thomas brought his special mac and
cheese for everyone?” Mulligan said, and you laughed, remembering it clearly.
The smell permeated every wall, stinking up the whole
office space. Thomas had a cheesy (pun intended) grin on his face, showing
everyone his masterpiece. Hamilton looked like he was about to puke, quickly
moving away from the monstrosity that was the food. Everyone else, besides
Madison, were saying the most vulgar things imaginable. Even Washington, with
his calm demeanor, told Thomas to get rid of the food or else he’d fire him. It
was the funniest incident that happened in a while, and you could have sworn
that you smell the delicacy whenever you walk into the break room.
“Don’t remind me, it was horrible. How could Madison even
stand in the same room for so long.” You mumbled, and Herc rolled his eyes at
“The things you do for the one’s you love.” You raised your
“You think Madison likes Jefferson?”
“Well, it seems pretty obvious to me. I see the hearts in
his eyes when he looks at him. I cannot wait until the day Jefferson notices,”
he smiled, “Puppy love.” You laughed. The two of you walked in the crosswalk,
continuing to talk.
“You’re such a-” The loud noise of a horn distracted you,
and you quickly turned towards the sound. A tractor trailer was speeding
towards the both of you, trying to slow down. He was only a few feet away when you
held up your hands, closing your eyes.
After a few seconds of silence, you peeked through one of
your lids. The truck was above you, floating in the air. You let out a deep
breath, placing it down on the ground. The man in the truck was unconscious, probably
passed out from shock. You felt a drip of blood leak out of your nose, and
That never happened before.
You turned back, forgetting that Mulligan was standing
there. His eyes were wide open, staring at you. Your heart dropped, looking at
his demeanor. He was undoubtedly afraid, frozen in the spot on the street.
have you ever cried because you remembered larry is real?
every morning i wake up w tears streaming down my cheeks as i blast don’t let me go in one ear and strong in the other. i get out of bed and lose my balance as i am assaulted w the memories of lairport and next to you and wellington. i happen across an elderly man named larry and hug him and sob as i thank him for showing me what true love is like. a person talks about how they’re having chicken for lunch and i sob when i realize that it won’t be wrapped with parma ham or stuffed with mozzarella or have a side of homemade mash. i cry as i stare at the blue sky and look down to realize the grass is green. when somebody says oops i have to dab at my tears as i quietly whisper my response of hi. larry is everywhere and it wounds my soul deeply, so i suppose the answer to this question will be yes.
After breakfast in his own bed chambers, he dressed swiftly in a heavily embroidered blue tunic and grey pants, laced up his boots and fixed the crooked crown adorning his head, before rushing out of the room.
The entire castle was in a state of frenzy and avid excitement, maids and manservants bustling about as they set vases of blooming orchids in every nook and cranny, polished the suits of armor standing in every niche and wove the marble columns with ribbons and garlands. People bowed and uttered greetings as he ran past, almost skidding over the newly washed flagstone floors. The head cook, Madam Gwendoline, beamed at him as he approached.
‘Ah, Your Highness,’ she cried in a heavily accented voice, and departing completely from the royal ettiquette, planted two sloppy kisses on his face. ‘You look so handsome! The prince of Qalynth will be dazzled!’
Warmth blazed his cheeks and William shifted awkwardly.
‘Madam, you flatter me,’ he replied, grinning at the portly woman. 'Say, would you deign to grace this half-starved man with a little of your delicious baking?’
She fixed his hair and fussed with the adornments on his tunic while she tusked and tutted like a hen. 'La, you naughty boy! You had breakfast just now, did you not?’
'But surely a ham stuffed bun-!’
'No, no, no,’ she ranted and stepped back once satisfied with his appearance. 'I will not allow you to gain a flabby stomach on my watch, do you wish to look like Lord Tyranth?’
He snorted with laughter. Only she had the courage to speak this way about all the royalty in the castle and get away with it.
'Very well,’ he acquiesced. 'Would you happen to know if our guests have arrived yet?’
'They are due to be here soon, Your Highness. You best hurry to the throne room now.’
She shooed him away. William meandered along, dawdling unnecassarily, watching the proceedings in the kitchen. Men and woman scurried to and fro; the air was filled with the clattering of pots and pans, the roar of the flames in the oven and the soft swish-swosh sounds of the water in the washing basin. A baker worked diligently at crafting various kinds of breads, his nimble fingers kneading and twisting the stretchy fibres into braids and paper thin pastry and small round dinner rolls.
He wished he could remain here. He wished he did not have to go to the throne room and face his fate. What would it be like, he mused, to be one of these people, simple and toiling all day long but with a sense of freedom and satisfaction he so rarely felt?
From one of the stoves where stew was bubbling away, Madam Gwendoline shot him a sharp look. With a resigned sigh, William finally left the kitchens, trying to ignore the mouth-watering aromas of baked bread, salted meat and dried-chilli gravy.
They arrived amid much fanfare and dramatics.
Standing next to his father’s throne, having been waiting for the past half hour, his internal musings swinging rapidly from anticipation to dread, William was slightly perturbed at the sight. Every person of the entourage was lavishly attired in heavy cloaks of velvet and their carriages were made of gilted gold. King Hades was a tall man with an austere countenance, a neat and sharply clipped beard and with his glittering dark eyes completely cold and detached as they observed their surroundings.
King Apollo stepped forward, smiling warmly. The contrast between the two was so stark, that had the situation not been so dismal, William would have laughed.
'Welcome, King Hades, ruler of the esteemed kingdom of Qalynth, Duke of Lantern Waste and Lorde of the Western Mountains,’ Apollo’s rich, exuberant tones rang out clearly through the room. 'I, Apollo, ruler of Aularia, am honored to receive you in our humble lands and hope your visit will be fruitful.’
Hades inclined his head in some semblance of a polite nod. 'You are gracious, King Apollo. May I introduce my son and heir, Prince Nico di Angelo?’
And it was only then that William’s gaze fell upon the slight figure standing patiently a few feet away, half-obscured by his father’s imposing figure. Now he stepped forward and bowed to Apollo, his movements fluid and graceful.
'It is a pleasure to be here, My Lord,’ he spoke quietly.
'And may I introduce my son and heir, Prince William Solace?’
At the words, William jolted back to his senses and stepped forward to bow before the other two, acutely aware that he was nowhere near as graceful as Nico had been.
'A pleasure,’ Nico repeated. His voice was as cold as his father’s visage.
William straightened and as he did so, his eyes met the other’s. As dark as night, swirling with age-old mysteries and Zeus knew how many secrets and crackling with a mad fire that notified him immediately that it would be a very bad idea to infuriate him. Nico’s face held the barest traces of contempt as he looked back and the corners of his mouth curled upward in a sneer before his gaze flickered away.
He felt rather warm around the collar and feeling his own lips twist in a scowl, he stepped back. He kept the glare on the other as the two kings conversed, oblivious to the hostile exchange. Nico ignored him resolutely.
It was an hour later when their guests had retired after their travels and William found himself outside in the palace gardens. He strolled along leisurely, his mind whirling with broken thoughts and emotions- the principle one being resentment.
The prince of Qalynth obviously detested this arrangement as much as he. William knew there was no love lost between them. How could they expect this matrimony to work?
He growled loudly when he remembered Nico’s expression when their eyes had locked.
Of all the people to be stuck with-!
He sighed and raised his head to heavens. It was just his luck, to be saddled with someone as aloof as Nico di Angelo.
Gods be with them. Surely this could not end well.