In which Harry’s no good with his words but he sure is good with his mouth.
some harry face sitting action maybe?
Author’s note: This is a continuation of “Mess o’ Mine.” I would suggest reading that first, if you haven’t already. I thought this was gonna be the end but then I fucked up so… there’s also a part 3. Hope you enjoy! I did!
You’ve been running through the events that have occurred, confused at the escalation and the outcome. No issues have been resolved, and there wasn’t really a conversation or discussion. You don’t know any more than you did when you heard Harry singing your poems. Has he used your writing in more songs on his album? Has he read your whole journal? God, you hope not. One poem is bad enough.
Harry hasn’t been around, hasn’t tried calling for the two weeks since he showed up on your doorstep. You’ve flipped the channel whenever he shows up on your television and scrolled at record speed when he’s popped up on your social media feeds. Maybe you should feel relieved and cleansed of his toxicity, but you don’t. Instead, you feel a little broken, like your stomach is splintering into pieces, and your mind still feels split open. Not only that, but you can smell him, feel the weight of him on top of you, taste the foreign flavor of his mouth. This isn’t what you need.
A whole other wave of confusion has rolled over you in terms of your relationship with Harry, if there still is one. The two of you have crossed a line without any prior thought or contemplation. Years upon years of friendship have been threatened, and you’re not even sure how it happened. Why did he kiss you? How did the two of you end up in bed, naked between the sheets? If you were confused about it before, trying to figure things out has only worsened your introspection.
I am literally so disgusted by the Penguins right now. Crosby and Sheary were both diagnosed with concussions THREE DAYS AGO and they both participated in full practice today??? Contact and everything??? THIS IS NOT OKAY.
School starts again next Thursday (technically Friday for me since I don’t have class on Thursday this quarter hehe). I’m getting nervous. Although I did a lot better on my summer courses and it’s given me a boost of confidence, I’m worried that with more upper division courses, I’m going to get overwhelmed again. My first two years of college weren’t stellar so if I want to get into med school, I need to really get it together this year and next year.
I’ve also got several things going on besides school. My research lab has me on a new immunohistochemistry project, and I am now the safety officer for club track. Not only that, I’m interviewing for a medical volunteering program next Monday and I’m also waiting on the results of my job interview (I hope I get accepted to at least one of these!). So this quarter is going to be hectic. Fingers crossed!!
Bringing Peter to a party causes more upset than you would’ve imagined…
Warnings: drinking, some violence, Peter being dorky af
A/N: this ended up WAY longer than I was expecting lol. also, this is my first time writing about Peter so let me know what you guys think! and as always, request are OPEN :)
It was finally here, the last week of high school. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved my years at Midtown Tech, but I was so ready for a change of pace. This was really the last, and kinda the first, week of fun for you. Scholastic Decathlon was last month, so seniors didn’t have to go to practice anymore. The last orchestra concert was two weeks ago, so no more rehearsal. And the Queens of Cheer Competition was last week, so no more tumbling for me. In high school, I made myself the total package so that I would be guaranteed to get into Columbia. The plan worked of course, but it made me miss out on a lot in high school. I never really went to parties because I was always so busy, and after graduation I was starting a full-time job at the library to help pay for college. But that was okay, because I was finally going to a big party this Friday. I had so much lost time to make up for, and the guy who was hosting it has had a huge crush on me since sophomore year. Even though I wasn’t interested, I wasn’t going to say no to free alcohol and a good time.
“We’re closed!” You called, not bothering to turn at the sound of the bell above the door chiming.
“Even for your favorite customer?” You instantly recognized the voice and spun to greet him with a smile.
“Customer usually implies you pay. You show up unannounced and charm your way into a box of free pastries.” You teased your old friend, who in turn leaned against the counter and shrugged casually.
“I distinctly remember striking up a deal. Free food for free tickets.” Oak grinned when you squealed in excitement.
“You got it?”
“I got it! Orchestra, right in the middle so you have an unobstructed view of my beautiful face.” He struck a few poses as you snatched the ticket from his hand, confirming its existence.
“I owe you five million free pastries! You have to bring some in for the crew, as a thank you.” You immediately got to work, stuffing as many baked goods as you could into various pink boxes from behind the counter.
“Don’t you have actual paying customers to feed?” Oak’s voice rang out. You popped up from behind the glass display case with four boxes stuffed to the brink.
“Screw them!” You insisted, pushing the boxes into his empty hands. “Thank you, I promise not to embarrass myself in front of them!”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep!” He called to you as you pushed him out the door, knowing he was on the brink of running late for the first show of the day. “See you tonight!” You stood at the glass door, watching for a moment as he struggled under the mass of boxes while crossing the busy street.
You sighed, making sure the ticket was secure in your pocket before flipping the sign at the door from ‘closed’ to ‘open’.
“Oak, let me help!” Random people called, each taking one box from him and placing it on the common table.
“What are these?” Daveed asked, raising his brow and investigating the closest box.
“My friend owns a bakery and is seeing the show tonight, she wanted to give these to you guys for luck.” That was all it took for the rampage to start. The entire cast and crew acted as vultures around the boxes, barely leaving crumbs behind.
“I call the croissant! My wife will kill me if I don’t bring one home for her!” Lin called over everyone, who parted for him to take claim over a few treats. He took note of the bakery’s name for future use before sauntering over to Oak with a skip in his step.
“So…” He started, “This friend of yours…” He wiggled his eyebrows, much to the displeasure of Oak. “They’re the friend, huh?”
“Shut up.” Oak grumbled, snatching his usual chocolate chip muffin, snapping a picture of the cast as they swarmed around the few remaining pastries, and stomped off to his dressing room.
“I cried before you even came out.” You insisted.
“Nothing sad even happens in the first few minutes!” He responded, tugging at your hand as he ushered you backstage.
“I know, but I knew what was coming.” You whispered, very aware of where you were. You dragged you across the rotating floor without stopping, weaving through the halls before stopping in what appeared to be a makeshift kitchen.
“Hello, hello!” Called the very last person Oak wanted in contact with you tonight, Lin. “The baker has arrived!”
“The genius!” You shot back, noticing Oak’s discomfort, “Oak says you’re not that smart in real life.”
“Guilty.” He shrugged, twisting his hair up into a makeshift bun, “Thanks for the goodies this morning, by the way! Oak’s been keeping you a secret for too long.” Lin elbowed him, eliciting a grunt and a whine from Oak, who had stayed awfully quiet during this interaction.
“My bakery is the best kept secret in New York.” You insisted as Oak grumbled something about seeing his dressing room before Anthony and Daveed left for the night.
“I’ll let you kids get to it.” Lin saluted, zipping his hoodie up and preparing himself for the crowd that had more than likely gathered outside the stage door. “Peace!” He threw up the peace sign, taking his leave as Oak dragged you away.
“He seemed nice.” You told him, trying to make conversation. He didn’t respond, and you wondered why Lin was such a sore subject for him.
“We’re closed!” You called, not bothering to look up from the register.
“Sorry, just here for the croissants!” Lin called, pulling his headphones down to wrap around his neck. “My wife, Vanessa, she loved the one I brought home last night. Thought I’d stop in?” He made his way to the counter, leaning against it just as Oak had the morning before.
“You guys are always welcome here, closed or not.” You got to work packaging a few croissants and a cookie. A treat for his son, you thought. “Can I ask you something?” You pushed the bag across the counter, shaking your head when he tried to pull out his wallet.
“Are you and Oak friends? He was kind of cold after we talked to you last night.”
He winced at the question.
“It’s just…I know things.”
“Things? Well, you’re a certified genius, hopefully you know something.” He let out a single loud laugh, and you prided yourself in being witty enough to elicit the sound.
“I mean, it’s not really my place to say. Oak, he’s a quiet guy. He likes to talk, though. Most of the time we talk, it’s about you.”
“Me?” You pointed to yourself, as if there was another you living somewhere that he could be referring to.
“It’s very cute, if not a little annoying. Although, now that I’ve met you and earned your trust enough to get free croissants.” He grabbed the bag off the counter, “The praise is well earned.” He took in your dumbstruck expression, “If you feel the same way about him, you should talk to him. He’s got a few things to say.” He threw up his peace sign again as he backed out the door and across the street towards the theater.
You were very grateful the doorman had recognized you on sight. With the cover story of ‘Oh, I’m bringing Oak lunch!’ and a wrapped panini in your grasp, it only took a minute for you to be let through.
You passed through pretty much unnoticed save for a few people who thanked you again for the treats from the day before. You nodded, stopping to ask where you would find Oak. They all pointed the way back towards the kitchen area you had been in before.
He sat at the table, scrolling through his phone and sipping from a water bottle, half in costume. He looked up as you entered, unsure how or why you had come.
“Hi. Lunch.” You pushed the sandwich into his hands before he could protest, “Also, do you want to go out tomorrow?”
He looked back and forth from the panini to you, wondering how the two were related.
Inside, a parade was running through your head. On the outside, you played it cool. Letting a simple smile grace your lips, you tried to casually back out with your head held high. You eventually ran into a wall, and then another person.
Finally, you took your leave, throwing up Lin’s signature peace sign as you ducked out.
The pieces began to put themselves together. The familiar box Lin carried in this morning. The peace sign. The smug grin Lin wore all morning.
“Lin-Manuel Miranda!” Oak called, pushing out of his chair as he heard a distant scream of panic.