Blue Royalty | Miscellaneous Thread

The Glue Incident- Aria Universe

Jess wasn’t prepared for this.

She had left the house for exactly 45 minutes—45 minutes—to grab groceries and caffeine because, let’s face it, parenting a 5-year-old and a newborn required sustenance. She’d fully expected to come home to some kind of mess—maybe Aria coloring on the walls again or Kai passed out mid-bottle feeding.

But this?

This was art.

Kai was flat on his stomach in the middle of the living room floor, one hand glued—yes, glued—to the wood floor. And how did she know it was glued? Well if the small bottle of superglue next to Kai’s hand wasn’t a crystal clear answer; there was also the fact that his hand was uncomfortably located above his head in a position that no human being could find comfortable. So yeah; it didn’t take an award winning investigative journalist to figure that one out.

Aria was sprawled on top of him, fast asleep and using his chest like a mattress, while Toby snoozed peacefully in the bassinet nearby, looking suspiciously unbothered by the chaos.

Jess blinked. Then blinked again. And then? She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. What?

This was bloody hilarious.

“Malachi Azure,” she finally said, stepping closer and raising an eyebrow, “what the actual hell am I looking at right now?”

Kai’s head popped up immediately, his face a mix of exhaustion and panic. “Jess. You’re back. Great. Amazing timing, actually.”

Jess smirked. “I know. I do that sometimes. Now explain this.” She gestured to his glued hand.

“It’s not—okay, it looks bad, but it’s not what you think.”

Jess raised her phone again. “Smile.” Click.

“For the love of God, Jess.”


It took a lot of teasing and a few more photos before Kai finally relented and told her what happened.

Apparently, Aria had convinced him they needed to make a volcano for her “science experiment” (which Jess 100% knew was just an excuse to play with glitter). Somewhere in the chaos—between Toby crying, Aria insisting they add “just a little more glue,” and Kai trying to keep it all together—he’d managed to superglue his hand to the base.

Which wouldn’t have been that bad if the base wasn’t also glued to the wood floor.

“I panicked,” Kai admitted, glaring at Jess as she laughed.

“Oh, clearly,” Jess said, wiping tears from her eyes. “And then what? You just decided to… take a nap?”

“Toby fell asleep, and then Aria climbed on top of me and said she was tucking me in—which, by the way, wasn’t helpful—so yeah. I gave up.”

Jess clutched her stomach, bending over with laughter. “This is—bloody iconic. Hold up, SMILE.”

click

“You’re not putting this in the Christmas letter.”

“Oh, darling.” Jess grinned, crouching down beside him. “This is going in the anniversary slideshow.


Ten minutes later, Aria stirred, rubbing her eyes as she sat up on Kai’s chest.

“Mommy’s home?” she mumbled, still half-asleep.

“Mommy’s home,” Jess confirmed, brushing Aria’s hair back. “And Mommy’s currently trying to figure out how to unstick Daddy from the floor.”

Aria blinked, looking down at Kai’s hand like she was just noticing it.

“Daddy, you’re still stuck?

“Yes, Aria,” Kai groaned, glaring at Jess when she stifled another laugh. “And I wouldn’t be if someone would stop taking pictures and help me.

“I don’t know,” Jess teased, leaning back on her heels. “You’re kind of growing on me like this. Maybe we just leave you here. Make it your thing.

“Jess.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll help.”


It took twenty-five minutes, two bottles of nail polish remover, and a lecture Jess knew Kai was tuning out, but she eventually got his hand free.

By the time his hand finally peeled away from the floor (along with what she was pretty sure was a layer of skin), Kai collapsed back, cradling it dramatically. “I think I have permanent damage.”

Jess rolled her eyes, tossing the glue bottle into the trash with a whoosh. “The only thing damaged here is your ego.”

“And my hand.”

“And our floor.

Aria—now awake and very invested—plopped down next to him, giggling as she poked his palm. “I told you glue was sticky.”

Jess smirked. “See? Even your five-year-old knew better.”

“You’re both evil.”

“Annnnd you know, you could’ve skipped the pictures and saved me soooo much faster.”

“And miss documenting this masterpiece? Not a chance.”


Later that night, with the kids finally asleep (and the glue cleaned up—because he was absolutely doing that part), Jess found Kai sprawled on the couch and joined him - throwing her legs across his lap.

“So, what did we learn today?”

“That my wife’s a menace?”

“Wrong. We learned to read labels before playing mad scientist.”

Kai groaned, tipping his head back against the couch. “This is never going away, is it?”

“Not a chance.” Jess grinned, holding up her phone and wiggling it in front of him. “The photos are backed up in the cloud. Permanent, just like your poor taste in glue.”

Kai looked at her, deadpan. “You’re the worst.”

“And you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

But when he pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple, Jess decided that even with all the chaos, she wouldn’t trade it—or him—for anything.

@Littlefeets

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Theeeee chocolate heist

Jess wasn’t proud of what she was about to do.

Okay, maybe she was. A little.

But in her defense, Kai started it.

He was sitting in the driver’s seat, steering one-handed while he slowly—and Jess meant slowly—snapped off pieces of his chocolate bar and popped them into his mouth like he had all the time in the world. Meanwhile, Jess sat in the passenger seat, practically vibrating with impatience.

Her chocolate bar? Gone.

Finished. Vanished within five minutes of leaving the gas station. She’d barely had time to breathe before it was over, and Kai had the audacity to pace himself—like he wasn’t married to someone who’d been running on fumes and breastfeeding cravings for weeks.

Jess licked her lips, her gaze dropping to his hands as he tore off another tiny square.

Who even eats chocolate like that?

She leaned her elbow against the armrest, angling herself toward him as her fingers danced along his forearm.

“You know,” she started casually, “you don’t even like chocolate that much.”

Kai didn’t even look at her. “I like this one.”

Jess made a dramatic sound of disbelief, leaning closer. “Then why didn’t you just share yours with me?”

“You had one.”

“And I finished it.”

“In three minutes.

“Because I needed sustenance, Kai. You know—for the child I’m feeding with my body.

“You don’t need my chocolate for that.”

Jess bit her lip, fighting the grin threatening to give her away. She let her hand trail along his arm again, softer this time, leaning in like she was going in for a kiss.

Kai’s focus flickered, his jaw slackening just enough—and that’s when she struck.

With lightning speed, Jess plucked the chocolate bar straight out of his hand and leaned back before he could stop her.

“Jess—NO.”

Too late. She took the biggest bite possible, her eyes locked on his as chocolate melted on her tongue.

“Mmm.” She grinned. “So good.”

Kai’s mouth fell open like she’d just betrayed him.

“You did not just do that.”

Jess shrugged, licking her lips for dramatic effect. “You can have the half I didn’t eat.”

“Jess.”

“Oh my God, relax. I’ll buy you four more. You big baby.”

Kai’s eyes narrowed. “You owe me four more.”

She reached for another bite—just to push his buttons—but he swatted her hand away, muttering something about filing for divorce.

Jess just laughed.


Jess knew Kai was still sulking later that night.

He didn’t say he was sulking, but he didn’t have to. She’d seen the passive-aggressive glance he shot the candy aisle at the grocery store, the dramatic way he grabbed his keys, and the pointed silence he gave her when they checked into the hotel that they were staying in for a weekend getaway from the kids.

So, naturally, Jess decided to fix it.


Kai froze the second he stepped out of the bathroom.

Jess was sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing his favorite black lace set, with the dim glow of the bedside lamp highlighting every curve. But what really caught his attention?

The jar of melted chocolate sitting next to her on the nightstand.

His towel slipped a little lower on his hips. “You did not buy more chocolate.”

Jess dipped her finger into the jar, trailing the warm liquid slowly across her bottom lip before sucking it clean.

“I promise,” she said, her voice dropping, “this one’s all yours.

Kai’s eyes darkened instantly, his hand gripping the edge of the towel.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Jess smirked, leaning back just enough to make her intentions very clear. “You’re still mad?”

“Furious.”

She reached into the jar again, trailing the chocolate lower this time—starting at her collarbone and sliding down, down, until Kai’s focus was locked on her fingers.

“Then maybe you should do something about it.”

And just like that, the towel hit the floor.


Kai didn’t hold back.

He traced every inch of chocolate she left, his lips and tongue following the trail like he was making up for lost time. Jess’s laugh turned into a gasp as his hands pinned her hips down, and—despite her teasing—she quickly realized that giving Kai all the chocolate was a very, very dangerous move.

“You’re not forgiven yet,” Kai murmured against her skin, his voice rough enough to make her shiver.

Jess arched into him, her nails scraping lightly against his shoulders. “What if I buy you ten chocolate bars tomorrow?”

“Not enough.”

“Fifteen?”

Kai smirked, his teeth grazing her skin as he reached for the jar again. “You’ll need way more than that.”


By the time they finally collapsed against each other, Jess was flushed, breathless, and thoroughly forgiven.

She turned her head to look at him, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. “I guess that settles the chocolate debate.”

Kai laughed, his arm tightening around her. “No. It starts it.”

And as Jess let her head fall against his shoulder, she decided that she’d probably steal his chocolate again.

Eventually.

@Littlefeets

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Game night showdown

Jess didn’t mean to start a war.

Okay, maybe she did.

But in her defense, she was very pregnant, very hormonal, and had spent most of the day trying to stop Aria from turning the kitchen into a glitter explosion zone.

She deserved this.

And by this, she meant absolutely demolishing Kai at a board game.

It was supposed to be friendly—a simple family night to wind down after a long day—but that was before Kai decided to turn it into World War III.

It started when Aria—still in her sparkly princess dress and plastic heels—ran into the living room, dumped the box of The Game of Life on the coffee table, and demanded to play. Jess had agreed immediately—because, really, how hard could it be to humor a five-year-old with plastic cars and paper money? Kai, however, had turned it into an event.

He’d pulled out snacks, cleared the coffee table, and—Jess couldn’t make this up—sorted the play money like they were running an actual bank.

Jess should’ve seen the red flags then.


Ten Minutes In.

It started off innocent enough.

Aria went first, spinning the wheel with enough force to knock over two of the tiny plastic cars.

“I want Life! she repeated, sticking her nose in the air like she was making a very serious announcement.

“You’re going to college,” Kai said immediately, reaching over to move her piece for her.

Aria gasped, snatching the piece back. “No! I want to be a superstar.”

Jess grinned, already enjoying this more than she should.

“You need a degree for that.”

“Beyoncé didn’t.”

Jess choked on her water, struggling not to laugh as Kai shot her a glare.
“She’s got a point.”

“She’s five.

“And already outsmarting you.”

Kai ignored her, but Jess saw the way his jaw twitched as Aria gleefully skipped college and spun her way straight into a career as a pop star.


Twenty Minutes in:

Jess and Kai had also gone through their spins—college or career, kids or no kids—and Jess had even humored Kai when he started narrating their “lives” like some kind of deranged game show host.

“Jess Hawthorne (aka her fake life name), after skipping college—questionable choice LIKE her daughter, but okay—has officially become an entertainment agent… probably for her daughter.”

Jess rolled her eyes, patting her very obvious bump as she leaned back. “I didn’t skip college, I took a gap year. And you’re a veterinarian, so maybe calm down, Dr. Dolittle.”

Aria giggled from the floor, but Jess didn’t miss the way Kai’s eyes narrowed slightly.

It was fine. Everything was fine.

Until Jess landed on the lottery space.

And won $500,000.

Kai froze mid-spin, his eyes snapping to the stack of bills Jess was fanning out like some kind of Vegas high roller.

“That’s rigged.”

“It’s called luck, darling.”

“It’s called cheating.”

“You can’t cheat at this game.”

“Tell that to my empty bank account.”


Thirty Minutes In: the chaos escalated eveeeeen more.

Aria spun again, shrieking when her car landed on the marriage space.

“I’M GETTING MARRIED!”

Jess clapped, pretending to dab at imaginary tears. “They grow up so fast.”

Kai groaned, rubbing his temples. “This is how it starts.

“Relax.” Jess smirked. “It’s plastic.

“I get a wedding gift! Aria beamed, holding up fake money. “Can we do this in real life?

“Absolutely not.”

Jess leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for Aria to hear. “Daddy’s scared of weddings.”

“And babies.”

Kai shot them both matching glares. “I’m scared of you two teaming up against me.”

“What can I say? I’m her agent.”


Fifteen Minutes Later. it got worse.

Aria spun the wheel and practically screamed. “I HAVE TWINS!”

Jess froze. So did Kai.

Their eyes met immediately—hers dropping to her very obvious baby bump as Kai’s jaw tightened.

“Don’t.”

“You’re manifesting this.”

“It’s not how pregnancy works.”

“Tell that to you, who already eats enough for three people.”

Jess gasped, smacking his arm. “You did not just call your pregnant wife fat.”

“I… I did not call you fat. Don’t twist my words.*”

“I’m taking your salary for that.”

“You can’t—Jess!”


By the time they hit the retirement phase, it wasn’t just a game anymore. It was personal.

Kai’s car was practically bursting with plastic babies (*four kids—FOUR), and Jess had made it her personal mission to buy every single property on the board, including the million-dollar mansion he’d been saving for.

“I hate you,” Kai muttered, throwing down his last bill as he paid Jess rent.

“No, you’re just jealous because I’m rich and child-free.”

“You’re selfish.”

“You’re bitter.”

“You’re divorced.”

Jess gasped dramatically, grabbing her chest like he’d stabbed her. “I left you because you snored, Malachi.”

Aria blinked, looking between them with wide eyes. “Wait… are you really divorced?”

Jess immediately snapped out of it, leaning down to kiss Aria’s head. “No, baby. Mommy and Daddy just like to yell at each other.”

“Loudly.” Kai added, still glaring.


Ten Minutes Later. Aria was asleep - clearly exhausted after the nights antics

“I want a rematch.”

Jess looked up from where she was stacking her money (because yes, she won).

“You lost. Take it like a man.”

“You cheated.”

“You’re delusional.”

Kai crossed his arms, his voice dropping lower. “Best two out of three.”

Jess smirked. “What’s in it for me?”

“The satisfaction of losing this time.”

“Not interested.”

Kai narrowed his eyes. “You’re scared.”

Jess’s eyebrows shot up. “Scared? Of you?”

“You should be.”

“I own you.”

“Rematch.”


Thirty Five Minutes Later.

Jess lost.

By two spaces.

And Kai? Kai had never been more obnoxious in his entire life.

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Jess.”

“I hate you.”

“Say it.”

Jess crossed her arms, glaring as Kai leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Admit it, my love. I won.”

“You barely won.”

“Winning is winning.”


Later That Night.

Jess waited until they were back in bed, Kai’s arm draped lazily over her waist, before she struck.

“You cheated.”

Kai groaned, rolling onto his back. “I swear to God—”

“And you still owe me $500,000.”

“It’s fake money, Jess!”

“It’s about the principle.”

Kai laughed, pulling her closer. “You’re impossible.”

Jess grinned, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “And you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

@Littlefeets

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Seeing the smirk on Candice’s face as she teased him for being nervous ironically helped him to relax. Only by a little but it still made him feel more confident that the evening wouldn’t be a complete disaster.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He teased back, referencing her smirk. He then quietly sighed. “Anyways, that was a long time ago. And I only did it because my parents wouldn’t let me go and he was one of my biggest inspirations.” He continued as if he had to justify why he was no longer the person she was talking about.

Candice flagged down a waiter, ordering him a drink and getting his usual order right on the first try. Of course, she did. She clearly remembered more than he had thought she would.

“I’m surprised you remembered.” He responded as the waiter walked away. She straightened her posture slightly, signalling that the pleasantries were over, and Dom did the same. Though she was doing it out of professionalism while he was tensing up, preparing himself for whatever was coming next. However, he relaxed when she started talking about his pieces. He had been worried because she had the most to compare to but she seemed to genuinely like his artwork.

She opened the portfolio to a specific piece and his gaze followed as she pointed to details on the painting. It was abstract but, as she had likely already figured out, his abstract art was usually a representation of his emotional state. They were created on days when he sequestered himself in his studio because he had something he needed to process. He had a feeling of when this had been done but he checked the date, just to be sure. Before he could answer, she flipped to another piece in his portfolio, asking if there was a connection between the two.

“Art has always been my outlet for difficult emotions. The anniversary of Clara’s death was right before I started college, which is when I painted that first one. I didn’t want my peers to think I was this moody artist who’s only inspiration was depression, even though I really was at the time. So I painted that and tried to keep it colourful and interesting but the darkness still crept in. This might seem silly, but I never feel truly in control when I’m painting. Like my brush is guiding me instead of me guiding it. I guess I could have painted over it but it felt better to leave it.” He explained to her, hoping he wasn’t bringing down the mood of the evening. He then focused on the other one she had drawn her attention to.

“That one was years later, after I met Colin. I was doing much better mentally and I think it showed in the pieces I was creating. There were still good days and bad days but for the first time in a long time, the good days were starting to outnumber the bad ones.” He explained, again wondering if he was oversharing. The only reason he didn’t stop himself was because she had asked about the pieces and it was important to the meaning behind the artwork.

Candice set the portfolio aside and when she started speaking, he went through a rollercoaster of emotions. When she started, he thought she was going to tell him his work wasn’t right for her gallery, period. Then she continued by saying that it would fit in her opening, which gave him some relief, except then she trailed off on a ‘but’, leaving his heart in his throat. She held the silence for what felt like an eternity and when she finally spoke, Dom could have sworn he had a mini heart attack.

“I…I don’t know what to say.” He stammered. Of all the things he expected her to say, this was not it. He had to take a minute to collect himself before continuing. “I would be honoured. This was not what I was expecting at all but that would be amazing.” He replied once he had regained his professionalism. He was still in shock but it was slowly wearing off.

It helped that she moved on, flipping to another piece in his portfolio and asking him about it. He surveyed the piece for a second, reminding himself of the time when he created it. “You know that feeling when you’re in a new city alone and you somehow feel lonely even though you’re surrounded by people?” He asked, more rhetorically. He made eye contact with her, letting her see his vulnerability instead of hiding. “After the divorce, before I met my current husband, I got really lonely. But it was strange because I wasn’t alone. I had my kids and my friends but I couldn’t stop the feeling. I ended up channeling it into this painting.”

The conversation had taken a more vulnerable turn than he had expected but he didn’t completely dislike it. It almost felt like they were teenagers again, when Candice was the first person to see any of his pieces. He watched her for her reaction, trying to figure out if he was scaring her away.


@benitz786 - Candice

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Mariana

*✿❀ ❀✿*

I loved you mad, but it doesn’t matter anymore, — stranger by Olivia Rodrigo

This game was stupid. Who the hell even asked this question anyway? Okay, maybe if she were an outsider in this situation, Annie would have enjoyed this kind of drama. Perhaps even encouraged it. Initiated this, on a good day. But as Ricky singled her out in front of everyone, relaying all his thoughts and feelings, Annie wished for this whole thing to end. She’d had enough of games. Thankfully, Ricky left before Annie had the chance to respond to him. Whatever conversation was going to come from what he had said was not something she wanted to do in front of the entire senior class. She’d had plenty of personal things in her life made public, and to pull her relationships into it was not what she wanted.

Unfortunately for Annie, the way Ricky had exited pulled everyone’s eyes back onto her, watching expectantly for whatever reaction she was going to give. But, how was Annie supposed to present a suitable reaction when she had no idea what to make of what Ricky had just said? This was all too serious for her, and the silence that had followed Ricky’s departure was making her uncomfortable. But evidently, it was on Annie to fill this quiet. “Ha ha. He must be fun at parties, am I right?” She blurted out, with a forced laugh, looking around at the blank faces that weren’t going to move the game along so easily. “Alright, see you later guys,” Annie continued, forcing herself up and away, ignoring the echo of ‘oooooh’ as she walked to the fire pit. Despite everything, it still felt cruel to leave Ricky hanging.

True to his word, Ricky was sat beside the roaring fire, the flames casting a soft glow over him. Annie had arrived before she’d really thought about what she was walking into, so when Ricky noticed her almost immediately, his eyes on her filled her with the delayed nerves. “Hey,” She started, walking around the fire to be on his side. She sat beside him, joining him in his silence for a few moments. But it was Ricky that had expressed his feelings before, it was on Annie to begin whatever this conversation was going to be.

Facing him right now was a first in a while. Even on the plane, Annie had primarily made eye contact with the chair in front of him. It was weird to look at Ricky’s face, and detach it from the feelings she had developed for him in during his time of deceit- feelings that had developed so reluctantly, but now so stubbornly refused to leave. Especially now, when he was here giving her reason to believe some parts had been genuine, it was difficult to untangle the mess of emotions that still lingered.

But trying to see the positives with Ricky would, at least for now, always be overshadowed by the weight of broken trust. As much as he’d tried, there wasn’t anything Ricky could say to fix that. Though it did succeed in one thing, it made her less angry, and so now she could give him something more cold indifference she had been displaying prior.

“Maybe you did mean what you just said,” Annie started, unsure of where she was going with this, her voice breaking through the silence. “And, maybe… some things with us were real,” She continued, coming to accept that thought as she voiced it. “At least, I know they always were to me,” She shared in a quieter voice, leaning back for a moment in discomfort at even the minimal admission. “But for you, I just have a bunch of 'maybe’s and questions about everything,” Annie told him, shifting the tone to adopt something slightly more assertive. “And I can’t trust any answer right now. It’s… I don’t know.”

Annie currently wished she had never strayed away from being the girl who primarily hooked up with people. Feelings were too hard and complicated, and trying to talk and come to conclusions about them were not her strong suit. She wished it wasn’t on her to make a decision, but she wished even more that Ricky hadn’t put her in a position to make a decision.

“If it’s true,” And here it was, this decision making. “That you did love me too,” Everything was so hard to say, she hated this. But at least if Annie said it now, maybe she wouldn’t have to again. “The only thing I can say to you now is that… you need to let this go,” She told Ricky, for the first time not trying to hide the sadness she felt to tell him that. “I can’t move forward and forget everything. It’s too much,” Annie confessed, hating the sound of her honest thoughts being expressed out loud to another person. Ricky, of all people.

She didn’t allow those words to hang in the air for too long before Annie sat up, changing her demeanour. “And it wouldn’t have worked out anyway,” She declared, dropping some of the severity in her tone. “We’re likely both leaving this place soon and… I mean, look at us, we hated each other not 6, 7 months ago. This is probably how it was meant to be,” Annie shrugged, with false-confidence instilled in her voice to sound almost convincing. Then she stood up, taking a step back. “And, you know, who needs love anyway? It’s overrated,” She added, referring back to something Ricky himself had told her at the beginning of the year. Something they both should have listened to.

*✿❀ ❀✿*

@benitz786 Ricky

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Embry braced herself as Paige began to throw her clothes at her, demanding that she leave. She had every right to be mad at her. She had left. For all intents and purposes, she had disappeared off the face of the Earth. If only she could see that the experience had been just as isolating for Embry as it had been for her. She couldn’t get a word in while Paige was yelling and throwing her things and she flinched when her shoe hit her arm.

“I didn’t want to leave you, Paige! You were everything to me.” She insisted, standing her ground when she was finished. Paige was going to hear her out whether she wanted to or not. “I didn’t tell you I was leaving because I didn’t want that hanging over our last days together. I know it was stupid of me and I was going to tell you before I left, I swear but my parents changed our flights and then I broke my phone and I lost everyone’s phone numbers and I had to get a new one and I…I didn’t know what to do, I-” She stopped, realizing that she was ranting and tears were streaming down her face. She wiped her eyes, trying to command herself to stop.

“Please-“ Her voice broke as she stood there, clothes in hand, braids falling in her face. “Please don’t make me leave.” She pleaded, even though Paige had made it clear that she was beyond forgiveness. Embry wasn’t ready to let it go, to let her go, just yet. Paige turned her back and walked to the kitchen, picking up the first bottle she could find. Embry stood, frozen and unsure of what she should do next.

Having made her decision, she dropped her clothes to the ground and followed Paige to the kitchen. Though she didn’t dare touch her, not yet.

“Paige.” She said her name with a delicate firmness as she slowly approached her. She spoke soft enough that didn’t sound angry but still made it known that she was going to make herself heard. If Paige hadn’t been listening before, she was going to now and Embry wasn’t leaving until she did.


@benitz786 - Paige

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The “Something Old” - 2031 - Part 10

Jessica Pierce wasn’t sure what time it was, but she knew it was late—or early, depending on how one looked at it. The soft glow of the pool lights cast rippling patterns along the edge of the hot tub, the water gently bubbling around her as she leaned back against the curved seat, a journal propped in her hands. Her mother’s journal.

Again.

The irony of sitting in a hot tub, this early in the damn morning, wasn’t lost on her. The hot water did little to calm the cold pit in her stomach, though. She took another sip from the bottle of water beside her, her free hand absently reaching into the open bag of chips perched dangerously close to the edge of the tub.

It was 3:40 AM, and Jess wasn’t anywhere close to being tired.

She’d planned to finish this second book diary—well, technically this morning. The first journal had left her reeling, ending with her mom and Leo Azure—yes, that Leo Azure—getting engaged and with her mom trying to piece Leo back together after he’d been raped. Jess still couldn’t fully process that word. Couldn’t picture a man like Leo Azure—powerful, dangerous, untouchable—being violated like that.

Her mom’s words had painted a different picture. A man broken, gutted, and raw. A man who barely held himself together. Her mother had poured out her own helplessness into the pages, and Jess had felt it like a punch to the chest. Addie’s desperation to make Leo feel whole again, her fury at the world for letting it happen, her own guilt for not being able to stop it—Jess had read every word, her throat tight, her own stomach twisting like it was her pain too.

And then it had ended. With tears all over those pages - it just ended.

Just like that. The last page had been nothing but Addie writing about needing to try harder. That she wouldn’t let him go through this alone. That Leo wasn’t alone.

Jess had been so caught up in that version of her mother that opening the second journal had felt like whiplash. The entries practically glowed—full of laughter, travel, lavish parties, and, most of all, love. Leo’s name was everywhere, each mention drenched in warmth and admiration.

I’ve never been happier in my life.

That sentence stood out more than anything. Jess had skimmed it before, but now that she’d read the last book cover to cover, she couldn’t stop turning the words over in her head.

How had her mother gone from the aftermath of that trauma to this… bliss? What had changed? And more importantly—how had it ended? How had her mom gone from loving this man so deeply to… loving her dad and getting married only a year later to him.

Jess wiped her fingers on the edge of the towel folded beside her, her eyes scanning the next page. She was halfway through an entry about her mom and Leo sneaking away from some high-profile gala to spend time in the gardens when she heard footsteps. Her head snapped up just as Dorian’s sleepy voice cut through the night air.

“I was looking for you, weirdo.”

Jess smirked, closing the journal but keeping a finger wedged between the pages. “And here I thought you’d obviously check the hot tub first. Where else would I be at…” —she glanced at her phone— “3:47 AM?”

Dorian stepped closer, his bare feet quiet against the stone tiles. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, his shirt missing entirely, and Jess had to tear her gaze away from the way the pool lights played off his abs. Not the time, Jess.

Nope.

No sir.

“You’re seriously out here reading? You know normal people sleep at this hour.” His brow furrowed, but there was amusement in his voice.

“Yeah? Well, I never claimed to be normal.”

“Clearly.” He shook his head before his gaze softened. “The baby’s asleep, by the way. Just put her down again.”

Jess let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Good. She’s been fussing all day.” Her eyes flickered back to the journal, but before she could open it again, Dorian spoke.

“You’re not even going to invite me in?” He raised an eyebrow, his grin lazy.

Jess’s lips curled. “Why don’t you join me, sexy?”

His grin widened. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Jess’s laughed, “Really? Because you just begged me.”

He mocked offense “I would never beg.”

It only took a moment for him to shed his sweats, leaving them in a pile by the edge. Jess raised an eyebrow at the sight of him stripping down so casually, but any teasing remark died in her throat when he slid into the water. Her focus shifted as he crossed the space, his hands finding her waist under the water and pulling her closer.

The journal hit the ledge with a soft thud, forgotten.

The softest smile met her lips as she leaned her repositioned herself so she was straddling him, “If I recall, darling, I remember you begging just yesterday. How did it go? "Ohhh Jess. Oh fck. Oh Jess. Right there. Fckkkk.”

“Oh you want to rehash who was moaning soooo loud they woke the baby up? In the other room?”

Ignoring his words, Jess didn’t hesitate, leaning into him even more, her lips finding his as the tension from the night melted into something else entirely. The kiss deepened, her fingers tangling in his hair as his hands mapped the curves of her body. She wasn’t sure when he moved them to the seat or when her legs ended up wrapped around him… around him, but by the time she finally pulled away, her breathing was ragged, and his eyes were darker.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Jess.”

“You’ll survive.” Her voice was breathless.

The next hour blurred—heated whispers, stolen touches, water cascading down their skin as they tangled together under the stars.

When they finally emerged, Jess wrapped herself in a towel, her wet hair sticking to her back as they made their way back to their room - the journal in her hand. Dorian stretched out on the bed the minute they got back to the room, his eyes already fluttering shut. She let him, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before reclaiming the journal.

Her fingers traced the familiar cursive. The words felt heavier now, knowing what came before them. Knowing how hard her mother had fought to keep that happiness, to piece Leo back together.

Jess settled back in, the night stretching on as she read.

𝒟𝑒𝒸𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝟣𝟫𝟫𝟫

“… 𝐼’𝓋𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒾𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒”

@Littlefeets
@astxrism

1 Like

May 2040

Candice’s smirk only widened at Dom’s question.

“You caught me. I’m definitely enjoying this.” She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbow on the table as her chin hovered above her hand. “Watching you sweat a little is kind of fun. You were always so confident, Dom. It’s nice to see you’re human.”

She let the teasing linger before softening. “And for the record, sneaking into that museum was still one of the best nights of my life. It’s not my fault you set the bar so high back then.”

Her eyes flickered with something unspoken before she glanced at his drink as it arrived. She smirked again when he commented on her remembering his order.

“I don’t forget things easily.” Her tone was light, but it carried an… undercurrent of truth—one she didn’t linger on for long. Instead, she shifted gears, digging into his pieces with the focus of someone who had spent her life immersed in art.

After all - they were professionals. And this was nothing but… business.

As Dom opened up about the emotions behind his work, Candice listened closely. She wasn’t just hearing his words—she was studying him. The way his voice changed, how his eyes flickered between vulnerability and confidence. It reminded her of the boy she used to know, and yet this version of him felt so much more grounded.

Her eyes softened as he explained the first piece.

“It’s not silly,” she said quietly. “That’s what art is supposed to do—take over, speak when we can’t. Honestly? I love that you left the shadows in. It’s what makes it real. People feel that, whether they realize it or not.”

Then, as he talked about his second piece—the lighter one—her smile returned.

“Colin must be something special if he could inspire this.” She gestured to the vibrant colors. “And it’s not oversharing, Dom. If anything, it makes me appreciate the pieces even more. It’s clear your work isn’t just paint on a canvas. It’s a story—and people connect to that.”

She gave him a moment to let her words sink in before flipping to the next painting—the one he admitted was born out of loneliness. Her expression softened again, and this time, she didn’t jump into teasing.

“It’s… haunting in the best way,” she said, letting her fingers brush against the image. “And I get it. That feeling you’re talking about—being surrounded but still feeling alone—it’s awful. But it’s also so human. I’ve been there.”

She paused, then tilted her head - for a second, her mind going back to her highschool years before she willed it away. Some things were better not remembered.

“So what changed?” She asked, her voice soft but curious. “When did that feeling stop? Or did it just get quieter?”

Candice gave him time to answer, genuinely invested in his response, before finally sitting back and flipping through the portfolio again.

“Alright, here’s what I’m thinking.” She straightened in her seat, shifting back into business mode but keeping her tone warm. “This one—” She pointed to the abstract piece with the shadows. “—has to be the star. It’s raw, and people are going to connect with it. And then this one—” She flipped to the lighter, more hopeful painting. “—balances it out perfectly. I want these two pieces as the anchors, and we’ll fill in the rest with a few others that tell the story in between. It’s cohesive but still lets each piece shine.”

Candice reached into her bag, pulling out a sleek black invitation and sliding it across the table.

“The gallery opening is next Saturday. I want to put one of your pieces on display—just one—to introduce you to the crowd. Then we’ll use the opening to start promoting your show for a month later.”

She gave him a pointed look.

“And no backing out now. I’m already picturing you in the middle of the room, telling people about your work and charming everyone with that nervous energy you’ve got going right now.”

Her teasing returned as she picked up her wine glass and took a sip, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“And don’t worry—you’ll get used to me bossing you around again.”

She let the banter hang there for a moment before leaning back.

Part of her felt bad.

Not sharing her life while she forced him to talk about his. She felt like she needed to tell him about hers… if only to put them on an equal playing field.

“Speaking of charming energy, do you want to know how Charlie asked me out?”

Candice didn’t wait for him to answer. He’d told her his story about Colin, perhaps it was time to share her own.

“I was working at Disney—doing animation work just about… 11 years ago now… wow…—and he was a writer. We’d been crossing paths for weeks, but he never said anything. Then one day, he slides this script under my door. I thought it was the next piece I had to animate for… well… the story was about this animator who’s too busy for dating until she meets this awkward but sweet writer who keeps making excuses to talk to her.”

She grinned, clearly still fond of the memory.

“I must have read it three times before I sketched up some rough designs, and slid it under his door - with the drawing of me saying “take me out on a date”. And he did about 20 minutes after I delivered it. Honestly? It’s still the cutest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Candice’s smile lingered as she looked at Dom, letting the moment hang between them before breaking the silence.

“Now, are you ready for Next Saturday? Or do I need to order you another drink to calm your nerves?”

@Caticorn

1 Like

image

Enrique Montoya hated himself.

And maybe that wasn’t new information, but it hit differently tonight. Sitting by the fire pit, the bottle of vodka barely hanging on in his grip, Ricky couldn’t stop his mind from spiraling. The flames danced in front of him, shadows flickering and twisting like ghosts of his past. Lenora. VC. Annie.

He ruined everything. That was his talent—breaking anything that might have been good before it had the chance to be. Lenora cheated, VC… broke him even fcking more, and now Annie? Annie was walking away too. And fck, he hated himself for how much that hurt. But wasn’t it always like this? Sitting alone. Always alone.

His fingers toyed with the glass, the weight of his mistakes pressing down so hard he felt like he might just collapse under it. It was suffocating—knowing he had no one to blame but himself.

He tried to pinpoint where exactly it all fell apart. Maybe it was when he let himself care too much. Or when he stopped sending Blue Royalty updates because, for the first time, he didn’t want to pretend anymore. He couldn’t pretend anymore. And yet here he was—pretending he wasn’t completely and utterly broken.

So when he heard footsteps crunching in the snow behind him, he didn’t turn around. Didn’t hope. Because she wouldn’t come. Not after what he did. Not after the way he fcked her over and shattered every ounce of trust she had in him.

Except she did.

Ricky’s eyes flickered up, glazed from both alcohol and exhaustion, as Annie’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Hey.”

She was there. She was actually there. For the briefest moment, hope flickered in his chest before reality crushed it. He’d lost her. He knew that. She was probably here to tell him goodbye.

His voice came out softer than he expected—like he was scared he might scare her off if he spoke too loud. “Hey.”

There was a pause, his eyes scanning her face like he was trying to memorize every detail before she inevitably walked away again. “I didn’t think you were going to come. I mean… I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

The words felt heavier than they should have, but then again, so did everything about this moment. Ricky waited, letting the silence stretch until she finally spoke.

“Maybe you did mean what you just said,” Annie began, and Ricky turned toward her fully, giving her every ounce of attention he had left. “And, maybe… some things with us were real. At least, I know they always were to me. But for you, I just have a bunch of 'maybe’s and questions about everything. And I can’t trust any answer right now. It’s… I don’t know.”

Ricky swallowed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He didn’t dare look away from her. “They… became real for me, Annie.” His voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t stop. “Maybe it wasn’t at the beginning. Maybe I was playing a stupid game. But I fell before I knew what the fck was happening.”

And then he stopped. Because what else could he say?

“But I know,” he added after a moment, his voice quieter this time. “I know you can’t trust me. Hell, I can’t even trust myself. Maybe I just wanted a chance to say sorry… really say sorry.”

His eyes flicked to the distance between them. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a canyon. He hated it. Hated that he’d caused it. But Annie didn’t look at him. She just kept speaking.

“If it’s true… that you did love me too… the only thing I can say to you now is that… you need to let this go.”

The words hit like a punch, and Ricky didn’t even try to hide the way they knocked the wind out of him. Let it go. He didn’t know if he could. But he nodded because he couldn’t ask her for more. Not when he’d already taken too much.

Annie pushed on, trying to make it easier. Trying to convince herself that it wouldn’t have worked out anyway. That it was probably how it was always meant to end. And maybe she even believed it. Ricky didn’t. But he let her say it because he didn’t have the right to argue.

When she stood up, Ricky let the silence settle between them before following her lead. He stood too, his eyes never leaving her as he took a hesitant step closer. His hand reached out, brushing her hair behind her ear before he leaned in and pressed the softest kiss to her forehead.

“I’m sorry, Annie. I’m so sorry… I’m sorry for what I did… I’m sorry for hurting you…I wish I could change what I did but… I guess all I can do is say I’m sorry.”

He lingered, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes… answering her second statement “You,” he whispered. “You don’t need love. You deserve it. I’m sorry that couldn’t be me.”

And then he stepped away, putting space between them even though it killed him to do it. “I’ll be here,” he said, his voice lighter now, the hint of a smile pulling at his lips. “For you. As anything you let me be.”

The glint in his eyes softened the words, a flicker of hope buried beneath the pain. And just because he couldn’t help himself, Ricky added, “Even if it’s just as the guy you want to take a crazy adventure to Mexico with… without our passports. Or the one who drives across town at 2 a.m. because you need ice cream and someone to talk to who won’t judge.”

He paused, letting his words settle before leaning in just slightly, like he wanted to memorize this moment. “Or the idiot who drinks too much and makes an ass out of himself just so you can laugh at him later.”

He lingered for a moment—too long, probably—before finally turning and walking away, leaving Annie by the fire with his heart still in her hands.

@novella

Paige took another long swig from the bottle, barely flinching at the burn as Embry’s voice echoed behind her. “I didn’t want to leave you, Paige! You were everything to me.”

The words made Paige scoff mid-sip. She slammed the bottle down on the counter, the sound sharp and final.

“Oh, please.” Paige spun around, eyes narrowing as she jabbed a finger in Embry’s direction. “Spare me the fcking rom-com monologue, Embry. ‘You were everything to me?’ What the actual fck is that supposed to mean? Because last time I checked, people who mean everything to each other don’t just vanish without a fcking word!”

Her voice dripped with venom, but her eyes? They burned. Embry kept talking—kept making excuses—and with every word, Paige’s grip on the counter tightened. Flights. Phones. Numbers. Paige let out a bitter laugh, cutting her off before she could finish.

“Oh my god, stop.” She put a hand up, mockingly wiping fake tears from her eyes. My phone broke! My parents changed my flights! I didn’t know what to do! Boo fcking hoo, Embry!” Paige leaned in, her smirk sharp and biting. “You didn’t know what to do? Here’s an idea—anything. Send me a fcking letter. Send a letter to my favorite coffee shop - you at least fcking knew that. SEND A FCKING PIGEON WITH A NOTE. Anything except nothing. But nah, you took the easy way out, didn’t you? Just disappeared. And now you’re standing here, crying like that’s supposed to fix it?”

Paige’s eyes flicked down to Embry’s bare skin, her lips curling in disgust. “And put your fcking clothes on before I make you regret walking in here like that.”

When Embry didn’t move fast enough, Paige stormed past her and grabbed the robe hanging off the wall. She yanked it over her shoulders, tying it with an angry tug before turning back to Embry and shoving her clothes into her arms again—hard.

“Here. Put these fcking on and get out before I call security.”

But just as the words left her mouth, something meaner—crueler—flashed in Paige’s mind. Her lips curled into a smirk, one that didn’t reach her eyes.

“You know what? I have a better idea.”

Without missing a beat, Paige grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts, pressing a button before bringing it to her ear. It barely rang once before the other end picked up.

“Hey, Zane. Get your ass up here. Now.”

She didn’t even give him time to respond before hanging up, her gaze locked on Embry as she crossed her arms. Three minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

Zane stepped inside with the casual swagger of someone who didn’t expect to be walking into a disaster zone. He paused when he saw both girls, his eyes immediately flicking between them.

“Woah, fck. I get a two-for-one deal?”

Paige smirked, running a hand through her damp hair as she stepped toward him.

“No. Just me.” Her voice was sharp, but there was something almost playful in the way she said it—as if she was daring Embry to say something.

Paige turned back, locking eyes with Embry as her smirk darkened. “But this bitch can watch if she wants. Or she can fcking leave.

And with that, Paige grabbed Zane by the shirt, pulling him toward the couch without so much as a second glance at Embry. She didn’t care. Or at least, that’s what she told herself as she shoved Zane down onto the cushions and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Fck Embry. Fck feelings. And fck caring.

She wasn’t going to let Embry tear her apart again. Not now. Not ever.

@Caticorn

2 Likes

Mariana

*✿❀ Annie after senior year (Part 1) ❀✿*

TW: grief

What am I supposed to do, if there’s no you? — Soon You’ll Get Better by Taylor Swift

The way Annie’s life looked right now, calling it ‘living’ would be an insult to the word itself. At her mom’s funeral, she couldn’t make it out of her room. Weeks crept into months and she had retreated entirely to her bed. Her days had blurred together into long, dark and empty periods of time that had no purpose and seemingly no end. Even tears couldn’t grant her some relief, as they soon ran dry. The weight of her grief pushed her to a feeling only of numbness than anything else. It had swallowed her whole, leaving only a shell of her former self who was deprived of every ounce of energy and feeling.

People gave their best efforts. Justin and Kyra had checked in, though usually their own grief would unintentionally enable her further. Her father had been persistent, with his words of love and encouragement from the funeral and after that. But all that came through was a reminder of her biggest mistake, the pain she had caused him and an inability to forgive herself for that. Annie had been a disappointment, and he was the prime example of that. So she listened to his attempts to get through to her, with a forced smile and a surface-level acknowledgement of them. Beyond that, she didn’t deserve his affections, and so couldn’t accept them. From her classmates, they had sent plenty of their concerns and best wishes to her. But none of which she would receive, her phone dead and neglected, collecting dust under her bed.

The world outside her door had become a foreign and distant concept. Time had stood completely still, and she couldn’t see a way out. The tunnel she fallen into was suffocatingly dark, with no sign of a light at the end, and there wasn’t anything she was going to do to change that.

*✿❀ ❀✿*

Sudden brightness filled her room, illuminating the neglected space Annie had buried herself in. She hadn’t heard anyone come in, let alone someone advancing across the room and swiping open the blinds. So the stark adjustment to her environment had been a surprise, a jolt that gave her a fragment of energy that she used to lazily shield her squinting eyes from the sunlight aggressively pointed towards her.

“Well, this is a sight for sore eyes,” A voice pierced through the silence that the room had become accustomed to. The tone was assertive, bordering on judging, far removed from the hesitant, gentle approaches that had been taken on Annie prior. This person wasn’t tiptoeing around her with consideration, but stomping in with immediate cause for disruption, and they weren’t stopping. Ignoring Annie’s barely-audible protest, the second window was unveiled, unleashing another flood of light - just as she had very nearly began to adjust to the first. She winced, completely covering her face with both hands, a childish groan escaping her as she turned to her side and wished to wake up from whatever nightmare this was.

But then this ruthless and evil person even leaned forward to pry Annie’s hands away from her head, “Oh, no, no, we’re not doing that,” They said, then for the first time the person was in Annie’s line of view. When her eyes eventually adjusted, and she sifted through the distant memories of life outside, she finally identified the person as Paige Pierce. If she was in touch with her emotions right now, she might have felt embarrassed at Paige seeing her in this state, or even confused as to why she was here, but nothing came to her. “Annie, when was the last time you ate?” She asked, her expression resembling something of concern for a moment. Until she stood still for a moment and truly inhaled. “Or… showered?” Her questioning was followed with a period of silence - of expectancy from Paige for an actual response. “What day is it?” Annie finally asked, her throat dry and scratchy. “Thursday,” Paige answered without missing a beat, their exchange stalling once again awaiting the barely-responsive Annie. “Actually that doesn’t help,” She mumbled through a sigh.

Then Paige did something to really surprise her, “Come on,” She huffed, taking Annie by the shoulders and pulled her to sitting up. “What are you…-” She started, but her words faltered. Before she even had a moment to process, and protest, Annie was hauled up onto her feet by Paige with unexpected determination. “You’re showering. Now. Then getting out of here,” Paige insisted, pushing her out towards the bathroom. This was a lot of sudden movement for Annie’s liking, leaving her blinking in confusing and holding onto her doorframe to steady herself. Alright,” She muttered, her voice coarse with misuse, before begrudgingly heading to the bathroom.

Annie closed the bathroom door behind her, practically collapsing against it and looking up to the ceiling. She stayed there for a long moment, the quiet and stillness offering a respite from the whirlwind that had just landed in her room. Slowly, she dragged herself away, edging closer to the shower. Arriving at the glass door, Annie turned the shower knob, the cold metal startling her dulled senses before the sound of running water echoed off the walls. She pulled off the hoodie and sweatpants that had basically become a part of her for the last few weeks before stepping under the stream, allowing herself to become immersed in the water. She covered her face with her hands, rubbing her eyes as the droplets cascaded, the warmth only adding to her discomfort.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but eventually Annie turned the shower off and grabbed a towel, the room reverting back to silence. Then it was as if Paige could see what she was doing, because as soon as Annie went to reach for her worn in hoodie, a sharp knock at the door interrupted her. “You better not be putting back on those biohazards you’re mistaking for clothes,” Paige warned her, causing Annie to freeze mid-motion. “Open the door a little,” She was instructed, and Annie listened, unlocking and letting the door swing towards her slightly. Then the opening increased, to make room for the folded pile of clothes Paige was passing through to her.

Though Annie had certainly worn them before, the fresh pair of jeans and vibrant sweater felt unnatural when she put them on, like they didn’t belong to her anymore. They were clean, the sweater that was actually once her favourite was now tainted with the faint scent of detergent, and lacking in the worn-in comfort from her tattered hoodie that she had clung to for weeks. But her unease regarding her clothing soon took a new form when her gaze landed on the bathroom mirror. Staring back at her was someone she hardly recognised. The shower she had taken may have cleansed the surface level, but it failed to eras the image of the ghostly figure with dull, lifeless eyes looking back at her. She ran her hands through her damp hair, in a futile attempt to fix what she was looking at to no success.

Eventually, Annie found her way back to Paige. “There you are,” She said upon Annie’s entrance, with a softened tone that was unusual for Paige. Annie’s hands hovered awkwardly at her sides before folding them across her chest. Her gaze shifted back to her bed, feeling exposed to be out of it and longing to retreat back under the covers. Evidently, this had been caught by Paige, who straightened up and reverted back to her usual assertive tone. “Come on, we’re going out,” She told Annie, moving across the room to the door. Annie took a moment to process her words, “Outside?” She finally repeated, slowly beginning to shake her head. But as Paige continued, “Fresh air, trees, grass. Remember them?” her head shake picking up more of a pace. “That’s not happening,” Annie declared, definitively before going to lie back down. “You go, tell me all about them. Or something.”

*✿❀ ❀✿*

Annie stood in defeat amongst the chaos of the coffee shop Paige had taken them to. The rapid movement of baristas, barging of impatient customers and constant chime of registers were far removed from the sensory-deprived stillness she had grown used to and the occasional burst of noise would startle her each time. It was as if Paige had turned the world’s volume on max, and it frayed Annie’s nerves with overstimulation.

“… Annie?” She was suddenly able to single out Paige’s voice amongst the many. It was firm but still patient, and sufficed in drawing her back to the present, turning to her expectant face. “What?” Annie responded, her voice distant. “I was asking you what you wanted,” She explained. The words were slow to process, but then the pressuring eyes of the barista came into focus for Annie, her mind eventually caught up with the situation. The question was simple, and finding it difficult it made her feel even more out of place. “Oh. Nothing, thanks,” She answered, shifting in unease. “I could have guessed,” Paige remarked, smiling before turning back to the worker.

They occupied a table away from the bar and the cluster of people, which Annie appreciated. Sitting down offered her some sense of respite briefly, before Paige pushed a sandwich and a coffee towards her with a look on her face that suggested the start of a conversation. A knot formed in Annie’s stomach, she’d been good at ignoring and avoiding talks with everyone that had attempted in the last few weeks, but there was something about the look in her eyes that made her think this time won’t be as easy. Annie glanced back at the queues over people at the tills where they had just escaped from, and wondered which would be the lesser of two evils.

“Your mom would hate this,” Broke the silence, it’s unexpectedness jolting Annie and drawing her attention. Everyone had danced around that subject, and so for it to suddenly be an opening line was unsettling. “Giving up and hiding away. This isn’t what she wanted,” Paige told her, offering a gentle look as if to compensate for the firm approach she was going for. “What did she say in her last speech, at that award show?” She asked, though not anticipating an actual answer from Annie. Not that Annie would have known the answer, as she never revisited that speech after Sadie had died. “‘With ends come new beginnings’, she believed in turning the page. Because there are so many pages and entire chapters left for you, if you would just get that book out from under the bed,” Paige paused for a moment, leaving Annie to process this.

It took a conscious effort for Annie to steady her breathing, and avert her eyes from Paige. She didn’t like this at all. It made her uncomfortable, and what was worse was that it made her feel something. For the first time since Paige had arrived, maybe the first time in a while, it brought things up beyond the constant numbness. “You need to try, Annie,” She continued, “Sadie may not be here, and I am… I’m so sorry for that, but the least you can do is try to honour her wishes. She wanted more for you. If not for you, do it for your dad, Justin, Kyra. For your mom,” Paige’s voice was stable, offering an anchor to what felt like drowning going on in her mind.

Annie looked up to the ceiling, rapidly blinking and trying to contain this flood of emotion that rushed in out of nowhere. She took a deep breath, before returning her gaze to Paige. “How… how do I do that?” Her throat had tightened, so Annie’s words came out a whisper, but was enough to break the silence. The gap between where she was and where she needed to be had felt insuperable, and every day that passed she was pushing herself further and further away. “It’s not gonna come overnight, you don’t have to rush or ignore the pain. But if you can just do something, even once a day, to try and move forward. To get up, to open your windows, to look after yourself a bit more,” Paige’s gaze softened, and it was look Annie hadn’t seen on her face before. “There are still people here who love you and want to see you living again, and they’ll be here for you. I’ll be here for you.”

It would be an overstatement to say something completely shifted that day. It certainly wasn’t the end of Paige’s forceful interventions, or the solution to Annie’s many bad habits she’d developed. But when Annie got home that day, she pushed herself to open her laptop and watch the speech that Paige had referred to. She was confronted with her mother’s face; her smile, her warmth and the joy in her eyes that Annie had been deprived from. The tears came almost instantly as Sadie spoke of finding light in the darkest of times. Annie let herself cry, and feel the grief she had been shutting down for weeks in all its intensity. It didn’t make it go away, not even slightly. But it was a start.

*✿❀ ❀✿*

@benitz786 I hope I did Paige okay

2 Likes

June, 1999

The florist shop was a sensory overload of colors and scents, a quiet escape from the chaos their engagement had stirred. Addie wandered between the rows of flowers, her fingers brushing over petals as she tried to picture bouquets and centerpieces. Her steps slowed as she reached a row of lilies, their soft, ivory petals curling like whispers of elegance. She paused, lifting one from the display, its sweet, calming fragrance filling the air.

Addie smiled softly to herself. She’d always loved lilies. There was something comforting about them—timeless, understated, and yet somehow commanding attention without demanding it. They reminded her of home, of her grandmother’s estate gardens, where they bloomed in neat rows along cobblestone paths.

She turned, holding the lily up for Leo to inspect. “Do you think lilies are too simple for a wedding?”

Leo was leaning casually against the counter, his hands tucked into his pockets, watching her with that signature smirk of his. “Addie, it’s a flower. Not a statement on the economy.”

Her lips twitched, and she smirked right back, her eyebrow arching. “It’s not just a flower. It’s the flower. Our flower. The one people will stare at while they whisper about how much effort went into this wedding.”

Leo raised a brow, his amusement deepening. He knew exactly what she was hinting at. Two weeks. It had only been two bloody weeks since they told her parents about the engagement, and already, their lives were overrun by “the royal wedding machine.” Addie’s grandmother had sent them the royal wedding planner —a woman who, by all appearances, had never smiled in her life—and she’d spent every day since interrogating them about color schemes, venues, guest lists, and, of course, flowers.

And what better way to figure that last part out than to escape to a flower shop, just the two of them?

Leo pushed off the counter, sauntering over to her with the kind of confidence that made her heart stutter. He plucked the lily from her hand and tucked it gently behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek. “I think it’s perfect. Just like you.”

Her cheeks flushed, but before she could say anything, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “And for the record, I’d marry you today if you’d let me.”

Addie’s lips curled into a playful smile. “Oh, today, is it? How about in the parking lot?”

“Easy,” Leo shot back without missing a beat.

She tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “What about a drive-thru chapel in Vegas? You could wear one of those Elvis jumpsuits.”

His grin widened as he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “I draw the line at the jumpsuit. But if that’s what you want, darling, consider it done.”

She was about to come up with something even more outrageous, but before the words left her lips, he silenced her with a kiss. His lips were warm, firm, and impossibly persuasive, and by the time he pulled back, her thoughts were nothing but a hazy blur.

“I’d marry you anywhere,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers.

Addie let out a soft laugh, her fingers curling into the front of his shirt. “Good answer.”

Their moment, however, was shattered by the sudden, sharp clack of heels against the tiled floor. A voice, crisp and laced with irritation, broke through the shop’s floral tranquility.

“WHERE have you two been?!”

Addie turned to find the wedding planner standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression a mix of exasperation and barely concealed disdain. “I said to meet me at the Leslie’s flower shop three streets over two hours ago.”

Leo’s eyes met Addie’s, and for a split second, they both froze. And then—barely containing their laughter—they exchanged a look that said everything: they’d come here to escape her, and they’d been caught.

“Well,” Leo said, his voice unbothered as he reached for another lily, “we’ve decided. We’re going with lilies.”

The planner’s brows shot up. “Lilies? They’re too simple. For a royal—”

“We’re. Going. With. Lilies.” Leo’s tone was calm but firm, the kind that brooked no argument. He gave the planner a pointed look, his arm still wrapped around Addie’s waist like a shield.

The woman opened her mouth to protest, then snapped it shut. Her jaw tightened, but she nodded curtly. “Very well. Lilies it is.”

As she turned to storm out of the shop, muttering something about time being wasted, Leo leaned down to whisper in Addie’s ear. “Worth every second.”

Addie tilted her head back, her laughter soft but genuine as she looked up at him. In that moment, surrounded by lilies and his unwavering certainty, she felt it all over again—the pure, unshakable joy of being in love with Leonardo Azure.


July, 1999

Much to the dismay of their wedding planner, it had taken over a month to pick a venue. The first question—more accurately, argument—was a classic standoff: London or New York. Leo, as usual, had been easygoing, content with either option as long as he was marrying Addie. The planner, however, insisted it had to be London.

“Westminster Abbey or St. George’s Chapel. It’s tradition,” the woman had said with an air of finality, as though it were written in some royal decree.

Addie had arched a brow at that, her arms crossed. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve never been much for tradition.”

And just like that, the planner’s resolve collided with Addie’s. Addie refused to back down, voicing her desire for something more personal, more them. Somewhere where they wouldn’t be drowned by centuries of royal history. After weeks of heated discussions—and a reluctant call to Addie’s parents and her grandmother—it was settled. New York. A city that Addie had fallen in love with over the months, chaotic and vibrant, like her heart whenever Leo was near.

And so here they were.

The New York City skyline stretched out before them, a breathtaking tapestry of light and shadow. The air was crisp, carrying the faint hum of the city that never slept. Addie stood on the terrace of the potential venue, her fingers lightly gripping the stone railing as her gaze swept over the city below. Just beyond the terrace stood the chapel she’d chosen for the ceremony—a timeless, elegant space with tall, arched windows that bathed the interior in golden light. But it was this terrace that caught her heart. She could already picture it: guests mingling, glasses clinking, the sound of laughter carrying on the breeze as the city lights glittered in the background.

Her lips curved into a soft smile as she tried to imagine the day—her in her wedding dress, the flowers (the lilies she loved), and most of all, Leo waiting for her at the end of the aisle. It felt surreal.

She turned back to find him standing a few feet away, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his tailored coat, his blue eyes fixed on her. The way he looked at her… It was like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, and for a moment, her heart felt like it might burst.

“What do you think?” she asked, her voice carrying just the faintest tremor of hope.

Leo’s lips curved into that infuriatingly charming smile, and he stepped forward, closing the space between them. “I think it’s perfect,” he said simply, his voice soft yet steady. “But mostly because you’re here.”

Addie rolled her eyes, though warmth bloomed in her chest at his words. Typical Leo. “Be serious for once. Can you picture it?”

He leaned against the railing beside her, his gaze sweeping over the terrace and the skyline beyond. “I can picture it,” he said, his voice lower now, more intimate. “You, walking toward me in a white dress, making me the luckiest man alive.”

Her breath hitched. She tried to suppress the smile threatening to break across her face, but it was no use. She leaned into his side, resting her head against his shoulder. The warmth of him, the steadiness of his presence, felt like home.

“I love you,” she murmured, her voice soft but filled with everything she couldn’t put into words.

Leo smirked down at her, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I know.”

“Leo!” she protested, laughing as she shoved him lightly, her cheeks flushing with exasperation and affection.

He caught her hand mid-shove, his fingers curling around hers as he brought it to his lips. The kiss was tender, deliberate, and it made her heart stutter. “I love you too,” he said, the humor in his tone softening into something deeper.

Addie closed her eyes briefly, letting herself absorb the moment. This was what happiness felt like—simple, untainted, and hers. She couldn’t help but think back to how far they’d come, from stolen glances to this life they were building together. Her fingers brushed against the smooth fabric of his sleeve, grounding herself in the present. This was real.


August, 1999

Peanut butter jelly time. Peanut butter jelly time. Peanut butter jelly, Peanut butter jelly—

Addie’s mind was fully immersed in the silly tune she’d seen on TV as she stood at the kitchen counter. A loaf of bread sat in front of her, and she was clumsily spreading peanut butter on one slice. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she trieddddd to smooth it out perfectly, though the bread was beginning to tear from her enthusiastic pressure.

She didn’t hear the soft sound of footsteps enter the kitchen until she flicked her wrist for another swipe of peanut butter, only to feel her movement abruptly halted. Warm fingers closed around her wrist, and she froze, looking up to find Leo staring down at her, an expression somewhere in the “horrified” spectrum on his face.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was calm but carried an air of absolute… err… fear.

Addie jumped slightly at his voice but quickly recovered, meeting his gaze with a raised brow. “Making a PB&J,” she said defensively, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I saw it on TV. Americans eat them all the time.”

Leo’s eyes darted to the unevenly spread peanut butter, the torn bread, and then back to Addie. He gently pried the knife from her hand, careful to place it far out of reach. “Absolutely not. You’re banned from the kitchen, remember?”

Addie scowled, her hands landing on her hips. “It’s not cooking! It’s spreading.

Leo crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with a smirk. “Do I need to remind you about the toast incident? Or the pasta that turned into glue? Or the time you nearly burned down the kitchen trying to make tea?”

Addie’s jaw dropped, her cheeks flushing with indignation. “Hey! Not fair. Those were accidents!

He leaned closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What about the time the blender exploded? Or when you used salt instead of sugar in brownies? Which were really just a puddle of brown water and chocolate chips…”

“THAT WAS A YEAR AGO,” she huffed, stomping over to the pantry and throwing the door open. “I’ve grown!”

The jelly was, unfortunately, on the top shelf. Addie stood on her toes, stretching her arm as far as it would go, but it was no use. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Leo carefully putting the knife far out of her reach, just in case she decided to go rogue again.

“I’m perfectly capable of reaching it,” she muttered to herself, stepping back and attempting a little jump. She swiped at the jar, her fingertips brushing the glass before her balance wavered.

Suddenly, she felt hands on her waist, steadying her and lifting her off the ground—away from the pantry and her mission. Leo set her down and stepped in front of her, effectively blocking her path.

“Sure you’ve grown,” he said, grinning as he leaned casually against the pantry door which was now CLOSED. “But not in the kitchen.”

“Leo,” she said warningly, trying to sidestep him.

“Addie,” he mimicked, his grin widening. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it.”

She narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms. “I want independence.”

“In the kitchen?” He raised a brow. “Not a chance.”

Despite herself, a laugh bubbled up. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable,” he countered, his voice softening as he leaned closer. He kissed her nose, his hands slipping to her waist. “Now, go sit down before you hurt yourself.”

Addie rolled her eyes but didn’t move. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Leo’s smirk deepened. Before she could react, his hands tightened on her waist, and he lifted her effortlessly, setting her down on the counter. “Fine. You can stay here.”

His lips found hers before she could protest, the kiss warm and teasing. Addie tried to pull back, her cheeks flushed, but Leo’s hands framed her face, keeping her close.

“Is this a distraction?” she asked, her voice breathless as she leaned back slightly, her eyes narrowing at him.

“If I say yes, will you stay distracted?” His voice was low, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

“Leo—”

Before she could finish her thought, his lips found her neck, and his hands slid up her thighs, pushing the hem of her dress higher. Addie’s resolve crumbled in an instant. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed a line down her collarbone, his touch making her pulse race.

“Fine,” she whispered, her voice catching. “Fine. We do this right now, and then you finish making my food.”

Leo’s answering smirk was wicked, his fingers already moving to unzip his pants. “Deal.”

Addie shook her head but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face as his lips met hers again, every thought of peanut butter and jelly forgotten.


September, 1999

Wedding planning had been both exhilarating and exhausting. Over the past few months, Addie and Leo had thrown themselves into it, ticking off tasks one by one. They’d chosen a breathtaking venue overlooking the New York City skyline. They’d finalized the flowers—elegant white lilies that Addie had fallen in love with instantly. They’d completed a dreamy photoshoot for their invitations, and the “Save the Dates” were just waiting to be sent out. Each decision, though painstaking, brought them one step closer to the day that they would finally say “I do.”

But as much as Addie loved the progress they’d made, the whirlwind of appointments, meetings, and endless questions had started to wear her thin. The wedding coordinator, her parents, Leo’s… family—everyone seemed to have an opinion on every detail, and the weight of pleasing so many people had been… a lot.

Leo had sensed it, of course. He always did. And so, when he suggested they take a night off—just the two of them—she didn’t hesitate. No planners. No checklists. No responsibilities. Just them.


The bonfire crackled softly, its warm glow casting flickering shadows over the grassy field. Addie sat on a thick picnic blanket, her knees drawn to her chest as she watched the firelight dance. In the distance, the night stretched on endlessly, the stars dotting the inky sky like a scattering of diamonds.

It was peaceful. For the first time in weeks, the chaos melted away, leaving only the sound of crickets chirping and the occasional pop of the fire.

Leo had insisted on packing the picnic himself, and Addie couldn’t help but smile as she glanced at the remnants of their meal. The man had packed more food than they could ever eat—sandwiches, fruit, even her favorite chocolate truffles. She hadn’t missed the way he’d watched her as she ate, a satisfied smile on his lips every time she took a bite.

Now, he was lying on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other stretched out toward her. His long legs were crossed at the ankles, his casual confidence making her chest ache in the best way.

The soft light from the fire and the distant glow of the moon illuminated his face, sharpening his jawline and highlighting the mischievous curve of his lips. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of his chest, and Addie found herself staring, her heart fluttering as if it were their first date all over again.

“Not bad,” she murmured, her gaze flicking between him and the stars.

Leo’s eyes shifted toward her, one brow arching in that way that always made her feel seen. “Not bad?” he repeated, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “I think the fireworks really make the night.”

Addie tilted her head, her smirk mirroring his. “I wasn’t talking about the fireworks.”

His chuckle rumbled low in his chest, and he extended his hand, curling his fingers around hers to tug her down beside him. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“And you’re lucky I love you,” she quipped, her voice teasing as she rested her head on his shoulder.

Leo turned his head slightly, his lips brushing against her forehead. He didn’t pull away immediately, lingering there like he was memorizing the moment. “I’ll never stop being lucky.”

The words sent warmth spreading through Addie’s chest. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling the scent of the fire and the faint trace of Leo’s cologne. “You know, if you keep saying things like that, I might start to believe you’re a romantic.”

“Might?” he teased, shifting so that he could wrap his arm around her waist. “Addie, I planned this entire night for you. I packed your favorite snacks. I even remembered those little truffles you can’t live without. If that’s not romance, I don’t know what is.”

“Fine,” she admitted, her smile tugging wider. “You’re romantic. But only tonight. Tomorrow, you’ll go back to beinggggg… insufferable.”

Leo laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Insufferable, huh? I’ll remind you of that the next time you’re begging me to distract you from wedding planning.”

“Begging?” Addie scoffed, her head lifting to glare at him. “I don’t beg.”

“Oh, you beg.” His grin was downright wicked now, and Addie couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips as he suddenly rolled, pinning her to the blanket.

“Do you deny it?” he asked, his weight braced on his forearms as he hovered over her.

“Absolutely,” she said, her tone defiant even as her pulse quickened.

“Liar,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.

The kiss was slow at first, soft and teasing, but it quickly deepened. Addie’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the world around them melted away. The fire crackled beside them, its warmth nothing compared to the heat spreading between them.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Leo pressed his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“I know,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his in another fleeting kiss. “I love you too.”

The moment was interrupted by a sudden burst of light in the sky. Fireworks exploded above them, painting the night in vibrant reds, blues, and golds. Addie rolled onto her back, her head resting against Leo’s chest as they watched the display together.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” she asked, her voice laced with affection.

“What can I say?” Leo replied, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her arm. “I like seeing you smile.”

Addie tilted her head to look up at him, her heart swelling as she took in the soft curve of his lips, the way his eyes shone in the light of the fireworks.

In that moment, with the world falling away and only Leo beside her, Addie felt like the luckiest person alive.


October, 1999

Holly’s tiny paws skittered across the polished hardwood floor as she barreled toward the couch, her fluffy white tail wagging like a blur. The little maltese puppy, now just shy of her first birthday, was a bundle of boundless energy. She let out an excited yip as she caught sight of one of her toys—a plush squirrel that had seen better days—and promptly pounced on it, her little body nearly toppling over from the momentum.

Addie giggled from her spot on the floor, her legs tucked beneath her as she watched the chaos unfold. Holly had become the heart of their home, her endless antics filling the space with laughter and warmth.

“She’s going to destroy everything,” Leo muttered, standing nearby with his arms crossed, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his fondness. He was dressed casually, a rare sight given their usual whirlwind of wedding planning, and Addie took a moment to appreciate the relaxed version of him.

[color=#87b4c7“Oh, hush,”[/color] Addie said, scooping up Holly before the pup could chew on a cushion. She cradled the squirming dog like a baby, pressing a kiss to her soft head. “She’s learning, Leo. She’s still just a baby.”

Leo raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Our baby who thinks the coffee table is her personal racetrack.”

Addie grinned, undeterred. “She’s perfect. Aren’t you, Holly?” Holly responded by enthusiastically licking Addie’s cheek, her tiny pink tongue leaving wet patches that had Addie laughing.

“Perfectly chaotic,” Leo quipped, watching as Holly tried to wiggle out of Addie’s arms to chase after her squirrel again.

“You love her,” Addie teased, holding the puppy out toward him.

Leo sighed dramatically, as if the very act of admitting it was a burden. “Fine. She’s growing on me.” He took the squirming pup from her arms, holding her awkwardly for a moment before settling her against his chest. Holly, delighted by the attention, licked his jaw, and Leo couldn’t help but laugh softly.

Addie leaned against his shoulder, her head resting there as she watched him gently scratch Holly behind the ears. Her heart swelled at the sight—this unguarded version of Leo that he reserved only for her and, apparently, their little ball of fluff.

“We’re a family,” she murmured, her voice soft with wonder.

Leo glanced at her, his expression melting into something infinitely tender. “Yeah,” he said, his fingers brushing through Holly’s fur. “We have been since we got her.”

Holly wiggled in his arms, letting out a playful bark that made Addie laugh again. She reached over, her hand brushing against Leo’s as she stroked the pup’s head.

“You’re lucky she loves you as much as she loves me,” Addie teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“She loves everyone,” Leo pointed out, though the warmth in his tone betrayed how much he adored the little dog. He glanced down at Holly, who was now gnawing on the edge of his shirt. “But, yes, I suppose I am lucky.”

Addie tilted her head to look up at him, her lips curving into a smile. “You know, you’re pretty good at this whole family thing.”

Leo smirked, his free arm slipping around her waist to pull her closer. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve had plenty of practice putting up with you.”

“Excuse me?” Addie gasped, mock offense in her tone as she lightly swatted his arm. “I am an absolute delight, Leonardo Azure.”

“You are,” he agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. “And so is she. Even if she thinks my shoes are her personal chew toys.”

Addie laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling against his chest. Holly, nestled between them, let out a contented sigh, her tiny body relaxing as if she, too, knew she was exactly where she belonged.

In that moment, with the sound of Holly’s soft breaths and Leo’s hand tracing soothing patterns on her back, Addie felt it. Pure, unfiltered happiness. Their lives might be a whirlwind of wedding plans and royal obligations, but here, in the quiet of their home, they were just… them.

A family.


November, 1999

Snowflakes twirled lazily in the air, blanketing the city in a pristine white that shimmered under the glow of streetlights. God Addie fcking loved this time of year. Everything about it was perfect - especially this year. Especially with the ring on Addie’s finger that she had yet to take off except for when she was taking showers.

The chill nipped at Addie’s cheeks, turning them a soft pink as she walked arm in arm with Leo. The hot cocoa in her hands radiated warmth, and she brought the cup to her lips, savoring the sweetness and the hint of lavender she always insisted on adding. What? Don’t judge her. Lavender works with everything.

She couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace. The last few months had been a whirlwind of wedding planning—venues, flowers, dresses, cakes, guest lists, and save-the-dates. Everything was planned down to the tiniest detail, thanks in part to their overly determined wedding planner. It had been exhausting, but in moments like this, just walking through the snowy streets with Leo, none of it seemed to matter. All she cared about was that, in a few short months, she’d be his wife.

Addie glanced up at the snowflakes catching in the curls of his hair and smiled to herself. God, she loved this man.

“You know,” she said, bumping her hip against his, “the snow makes everything feel… magical. Like we’re in a little snow globe.”

“Magical, huh?” Leo teased, his smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “I thought it just made things cold.”

“Oh, shut up.” Addie laughed, nudging him harder this time. “You’re ruining my poetic moment.”

Leo chuckled, his arm tightening around her. “Fine. Magical. Romantic. Best snowfall in history. Better?”

“Much,” she said with a grin.

As they continued their stroll, a woman walking a small, fluffy dog stopped in her tracks to admire them. Her face lit up with genuine delight, and she gestured toward them with her free hand.

“Please tell me you two are dating,” the woman said with a beaming smile. “You’re so beautiful together. It’s almost unfair.”

Addie’s lips quirked, and she opened her mouth to respond, but Leo beat her to it.

“Not dating,” he said smoothly, pulling Addie closer. “Engaged.”

Addie’s cheeks flushed, but not from the cold. She tilted her head slightly, smirking up at him. “Fiancé,” she corrected softly, the word tasting sweeter every time she said it.

The woman gasped, her excitement bubbling over as she looked at Addie’s ring. “Congratulations! Oh, you’re going to make the most gorgeous couple at your wedding.”

“Thank you,” Addie said warmly, giving the woman a polite nod before she walked on, her little dog trotting beside her.

As they continued walking, Addie glanced at Leo, her fingers tightening around his arm. “Can you believe it?”

“What?” he asked, looking down at her with a raised brow.

“That I’ll get to call you my husband soon annnnnd that I get to say I’m your wife in just a few months.” Her smile softened, her eyes glinting with the reflection of the falling snow.

Leo stopped walking, turning to face her fully. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer. “I think I’m the lucky one. In a few months, I get to say you’re mine. Forever.” His voice dipped lower, the sincerity in his words wrapping around her like the warmest blanket.

“You’re going to make me cry in the middle of the street,” she murmured, blinking up at him.

“You’d still be the most beautiful woman here,” he said simply, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips.

When they finally broke apart, Addie rested her forehead against his, her heart swelling with so much love it felt like it could burst. “I really do love the snow,” she whispered, her breath visible in the cold air. “It feels like everything’s quieter. Cleaner. Like nothing bad could ever happen when it’s snowing.”

“I’ll make sure you always get snow, then,” Leo promised, his lips brushing her temple. “Every winter, every Christmas. Hell, I’ll find a way to make it snow in July if you want.”

Addie laughed, her arms wrapping around his neck as she hugged him tightly. “I don’t need snow in July. Just you.”

“You’ve got me, love,” Leo murmured against her hair. “Always.”

And as the snow continued to fall around them, Addie felt her heart settle into a perfect rhythm. This was happiness. This was home.


December, 1999

The bathroom floor was cold beneath her, the tiles unforgiving against her skin as Addie sat in the dark. The only light came from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the window, casting soft shadows across the room. Her knees were pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around them tightly as if holding herself together would stop the world from spinning.

Dozens of pregnancy tests lay scattered around her like fallen soldiers, each one boldly displaying the same result: positive. She couldn’t bear to turn on the lights. Seeing the stark truth in full brightness felt… unbearable. As if darkness could soften the blow.

Her hands trembled as she picked up one of the tests, the digital screen clear and unforgiving. Positive. She pressed her free hand to her stomach, her breath catching in her throat. Her chest ached, a suffocating heaviness that made it hard to draw air.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

She had only taken the tests because she’d been feeling sick for days—nausea that wouldn’t go away, waves of dizziness that hit her at the worst times. Sure, she’d missed her period for almost two months, but it wasn’t the first time her cycle had been irregular. It was the stress, she’d told herself. Wedding planning, public appearances, trying to balance the weight of her own ambitions with the expectations of everyone around her. It made sense, didn’t it?

She hadn’t expected the tests to come back positive. Not really. And now, sitting in the dim silence of the bathroom, she wished she’d never taken them.

Her tears came slowly at first, hot and unrelenting, sliding down her cheeks as her mind raced. She tried to steady her breathing, but the sob that clawed its way out of her chest was beyond her control. She buried her face in her hands, shaking, her thoughts spiraling.

This wasn’t the plan.

She was supposed to go to college after the wedding. That was the plan—finish her degree, make a name for herself in politics, change the world. She’d taken a year off for the wedding, for Leo, but after that, it was supposed to be her time. She was supposed to make waves, to show the world who Adelaide Parker was beyond the royal title, beyond the legacy.

A baby wasn’t part of that. Not yet. Maybe… maybe not ever.

She’d never really thought about it—not seriously. Children had always been some distant possibility, an idea for another lifetime. She and Leo hadn’t even discussed it. Why would they? They were still young, still building their life together. There was so much they wanted to do, places they wanted to go.

Her chest tightened as she imagined it—getting bigger, her body changing. The idea of holding a baby in her arms, of Leo’s face… possibly lighting up with the kind of joy she’d never seen before? Did he want this? Did he want kids? The thought was terrifying and too much all at once.

Would Leo even be happy? Would he be ready? Was she fcking ready?

She couldn’t see him being anything but supportive, but… was she ready for that look in his eyes when she told him? The one that would shatter her because it would mean he was either thrilled… or or… he was terrified too… or… who the fck knew… all while she felt like her world was crumbling. And maybe she wasn’t being fair. Maybe it wasn’t crumbling. But it felt like it.

Her hand moved from her stomach to her mouth as she choked back another sob. She hadn’t let herself think it before, but now the thought was screaming at her, louder than anything else: I don’t want this. Not now.

She wanted to scream, to cry harder, to run far away from the suffocating weight of reality. But instead, she just sat there. Curled up on the cold bathroom floor, surrounded by those damn tests that wouldn’t stop mocking her.

The love she felt for Leo was undeniable. Overwhelming, even. But this? This was a new kind of overwhelming. A kind she didn’t know how to handle. A kind that left her questioning everything.

For now, she could only sit in the dark, her tears staining the silence as she tried to piece together what came next.

@Littlefeets - youuuuu know what’s coming next

1 Like


May 2040


Dom couldn’t help but chuckle as Candice admitted to having fun watching him be nervous. “I was only that confident because of you.” He admitted, giving credit where it was due. Candice didn’t need to hear any more about how his upbringing had decimated his self-confidence but he was telling the truth. She used to have this way of bringing out a confidence in him that he hadn’t known existed. One that defied his mother’s scrutiny.

“Unfortunately, that might have been my peak. I don’t think I can ever outdo myself.” He responded as his drink arrived.

Dom couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to have a conversation like this. Colin knew things about art and they could have base-level discussions about it but Candice understood his work in a way that no one else did. Her responses to his explanations only reaffirmed that as she added her insight. He smiled when she said that Colin must be special.

"He is.” He agreed before she turned her attention to the third piece. She commented on the haunting nature of it before remarking that she could relate to the piece. “My other pieces like that are potentially unique to my experiences but this one I think is the most universal. It draws out a feeling most people can relate to in one way or another.”

He paused for a moment to consider how to answer her when she asked what changed. “It didn’t go away until I fell in love. Before that, I found ways to cope. Put on more art shows around the country because the planning distracted me. Learned how to do my one daughter’s hair for her dance recitals so I could spend more time with her and spent time with the other playing soccer. It helped if I didn’t give myself time to think about it."

He straightened his posture when she directed the conversation back to the art show, explaining her vision to him. As she spoke, he could perfectly picture the arrangement as she explained it, already filling in which of his other pieces would best suit it. He nodded as she explained, acknowledging that he was following. He smiled nervously when she began to imagine him standing in the middle of a room speaking to people.

"Well, maybe not in the middle of the room.” He interjected sheepishly. Dom usually preferred observing his shows from the sidelines. He still made his rounds and talked to people about the pieces they were looking at but he didn’t draw attention to the fact that he was the artist. Why? Because people’s opinions of a work can be tainted if they know they are speaking to the creator. In a less philosophical sense, he had spent enough of his life in the centre of unwanted attention and hated drawing it to himself.

“I’m sure I will.” He laughed when she told him he would get used to her bossing him around again.

He raised an eyebrow when she asked if he wanted to hear how her husband asked her out, his curiosity piqued by her asking, but she continued before he had a chance to respond. As she told him the story, he smiled. It was the kind of story that reminded you of the magic that is finding the one.

“That sounds so romantic. Like something out of a movie.” He commented after she had finished. “I can see why you married him.”

“I may need another drink.” He admitted with a nervous laugh, responding to the last of her questions after a silence had attempted to settle in between them.


@benitz786 - Candice

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Alt: What if? - Kai raised his and Candice’s son


Ah, here we go again. We have yet another world in which Malachi Azure’s life could’ve gone differently. In most worlds, it’s not until at least senior year that Kai discovers that he has a son with Candice Clarke. However, what would have happened had he gotten home earlier one night, to have overheard one conversation in particular?



Part 1


June 2018

Kai walked down the hallway when he got home, unaware anything was going on until he heard voices coming from his father’s office. He didn’t plan on going inside, after all, he knew his dad didn’t like being interrupted, especially when it was with a blue royalty winner. But then he heard something he didn’t expect, his own name. They were talking about him.

“It was Malachi.”

“You’re going to have to prove it, Lily-Ann. I can’t just take your word for it.” Candice’s mother? Why was she talking about him, saying he did something. Something serious by the tone of the conversation.

“We’ll get the test, but it doesn’t change the fact that your son got my daughter pregnant.”

Kai couldn’t step away after hearing those words. There was no way to not interrupt his father in his conversation with Candice’s mother. “Candice is pregnant?”

“Mr. Azure, it’s ironic - I expected you to have trained your children better than to listen in on private conversations. But as your son is already here and you want confirmation, before the paternity test… Malachi, You did sleep with my daughter approximately 3 months ago, correct?”

“I… I did.” Kai admitted. He got Candice pregnant? He didn’t know if there were other people she had been with, but they had sex not that long ago… and they didn’t… f^^k… they were high, and he wasn’t thinking when they did it… He got Candice pregnant.

“As I said, that child is his.”

“Malachi… we will talk about this later. Go on to your room.”

He couldn’t just walk away and let his dad handle it. If he got her pregnant, it was his responsibility. He needed to know what was going on. “No, Dad.” Kai turned towards Lily-Ann, taking a deep breath. “What’s Candice planning on doing with the baby?”

“It’s being put up for adoption when it’s born.”

“If the baby’s mine, I want it.” Kai had no idea what to do, but he couldn’t imagine not being there, raising his son or daughter. It didn’t matter, he’d figure it out. He’d ask his mom what to do, how to take care of a baby, how to be a good parent. He’d find a way to make it all work. He’d be the best father he could possibly be.

“Malachi.” Kai watched as his father gave Lily-Ann a look, indicating that he needed just a moment. His dad then took him by the shoulder and walked him out of the office.

For once, Kai didn’t give his dad a chance to say anything else. “Dad, I want to. I didn’t mean to get Candice pregnant, but I did. She might not want the baby, but I do.”

Kai watched his dad’s features soften slightly before he let out a deep exhale. “Alright, son. I’ll come up in a little while, and we’ll talk. For now, head to your room. I have more to discuss with her mother.”

September 2018

“He’s so… little.” Kai had to remind himself to breathe as he held his son for the first time. Kai was 17 years old. He was basically still a kid himself. Hell, even the time he had spent in the waiting room while doctors checked on the baby had been filled by doing his 11th grade math homework. Was he ready to be a parent? Not at all, but this kid deserved having one parent there for him from day one. Candice still didn’t want him, so Kai would be everything for him. There was no other option.

“Hi Oliver. I’m your dad.” He was just a few days old, finally strong enough to be held. It would still be a while until he was able to come home. He was still too small, too premature. But it wouldn’t be that way forever, and Kai would be there for him every day.

December 25th, 2018

It was strange having a baby in the house. Although it had only been a few years since Ria was born, everyone could seem to agree that it was different with Oliver. It had only been a few weeks since he left the nicu, but there still wasn’t a new normal. Kai’s mom absolutely adored her little grandson. His dad seemed distant yet more understanding, softer in a way. For Kai, his world was now centered around this tiny little baby, his son. He didn’t have the answers for how the future would go. The only thing he knew at that point, was that he wanted to make sure Oliver’s first Christmas was a good one.


@benitz786 - Candice and her mom mentioned

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The “Something Old” - 2031 - Part 11

The soft glow of dawn crept through the curtains, casting warm streaks of light over the bedroom walls. The house was quiet, wrapped in the serenity of early morning, save for the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of Dorian’s breathing beside her. He was sprawled out, one arm stretched over the empty space where she should have been, completely oblivious to the fact that Jess hadn’t closed her eyes once all night.

She was exhausted.

But she didn’t want to sleep.

Not yet.

Not when her daughter was curled against her, her tiny fingers fisting the fabric of Jess’s shirt after feeding, her breaths warm and steady against her skin.

Not when, in just a few hours, her mother was going to tell her everything.

Jess exhaled, shifting slightly as she adjusted her hold on Shay. The baby stirred briefly, her dark lashes fluttering, before settling again with a soft sigh. Jess pressed a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the faint scent of baby lotion.

She was beautiful. So beautiful.

And Jess had spent the last few hours talking to her in hushed whispers, her voice steady even when her mind wasn’t.

“You know, Shay, I used to think history was boring.” Her voice was soft, a faint smile tugging at her lips. She glanced down at the open journal in her lap, its pages slightly crinkled from how tightly she’d been gripping it earlier.

“The present alwaysssss felt more important. And the future? It was exciting to think about. But the past? That was just… there. Something people obsessed over for no reason.” She smirked slightly, shifting Shay in her arms. “But now? Now I get it. It’s not about the past. It’s about the pieces of it that still follow you.”

Her fingers ghosted over the ink-stained pages, pausing at the last line she had read before she’d been pulled away by Shay’s hunger cries.

𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒…

Jess swallowed.

The words were small, scrawled hastily in the corner of the page, as if her mother had been too afraid to admit them, even to herself.

Jess had spent the entire night reading.

Reading about the love that had bloomed between her mother and Leo. The happiness. The warmth. The way Addie had written about him like he was the only thing that mattered. Like he was the air she breathed. God, it felt like he was—just like Dorian was to Jess. Just like Shay was to her now.

And then it ended.

Not with a fight. Not with a grand declaration.

But with silence.

Her mother had just… stopped writing.

And when she finally did again, the tone had changed. The love that had been so certain, so all-consuming, had turned into something else—something hesitant. Careful.

Jess had sat there for what felt like hours, staring at that last sentence, unable to turn the page just yet.

Because she knew what came next.

She had spent days unraveling the past, peeling back the layers of the carefully constructed story her mother had told the world. And now, she was at the part where it all fell apart.

And she wasn’t sure she was ready to read it.

Shay made a soft noise in her sleep, her tiny lips parting as she nuzzled closer.

Jess smiled, brushing her thumb gently over her daughter’s cheek.

“I can’t wait for you to get to know her… really know her… your grandmother, I mean.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “She’s crazy. The best kind of crazy. And she loves you already… she wasn’t always like that… but she’s been trying for you… and for me.”

She paused, glancing at Dorian, still fast asleep beside her, completely unaware of the storm raging inside her mind.

“And she’d probably kill me for still reading this,” she muttered, a faint smirk playing on her lips, “especially when she said she’d tell me everything in a few hours.”

But she had to.

Because the more she read, the more she realized—she didn’t know her mother at all.

Not the real her.

And she wanted to.

She needed to.

Jess exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the journal as she turned the page.

She didn’t stop to think.

Didn’t stop to prepare herself.

She just read.

And as the words unraveled in front of her, she felt her throat tighten, her heart pounding harder with every sentence.

Because this?

This was the beginning of the end.

@Littlefeets @astxrism

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December, 1999

The bathroom was suffocating. The air thick, unmoving, pressing against Addie’s chest as she sat, knees drawn to her chest, her back pressed against the cold tile wall. The overhead light was off, the only glow coming from the small sliver of light seeping in from the hallway from the crack in the door. It barely reached her, leaving her in the dark. And honestly, at this point, she preferred it.

Her tears had stopped at some point. She wasn’t sure when. Maybe minutes ago. Maybe hours. The tests still lay scattered around her, each one mocking her in silent accusation. Positive. Positive. Positive.

Her mind was blank, her body heavy, unresponsive. Like the weight of what she had just learned had turned her to stone. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t… couldn’t breathe.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Her life—her carefully laid-out, painstakingly planned life—wasn’t meant to lead here. She had spent years mapping out her future. Her education. Her career. Her purpose. And now… now everything had derailed.

She was supposed to go to college next year. She had taken the year off for the wedding, but after that? Politics. She was meant to change the world, not bring another one into it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

She had never let herself imagine it before. The idea of getting married to Leo? Yes. That was an easy yes… But children? No. She had always told herself there would be time for that later, if she ever wanted it.

But now?

She pressed a hand to her stomach, her fingers shaking as she tried to feel something. Tried to understand what this even meant.

Her body didn’t feel any different. But inside, her world had already shattered.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she barely registered the way it dripped onto her thigh, warm against her freezing skin.

She should move.

She should… do something. But her body wouldn’t listen.

And so, she sat.

Still. Silent.

And at some point, exhaustion dragged her under.


The warmth came first.

It spread over her skin, soft and golden, like sunlight filtering through an open window. There was laughter, light and unburdened, filling the space around her.

She blinked.

It was a garden. A breathtaking, endless stretch of wildflowers and green. The scent of lilies filled the air—her favorite, comforting and familiar.

And then she saw him.

Leo stood only a few feet away, his head tipped back in laughter, a little girl in his arms. She had Addie’s golden waves, wild and unkempt, and the brightest blue-grey eyes Addie had ever seen—Leo’s eyes.

Beside them, a small boy clung to Leo’s leg, his arms wrapped tight around his father’s knee as he giggled uncontrollably. His hair was golden like Leo’s, but his smile—his smile—was hers.

The sight of them hit her like a blow to the chest.

Her family.

She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe.

Leo turned to her, his expression impossibly soft, filled with something so tender, so unbreakable, that it made her heart ache.

“Come here, love.” His voice was warm, welcoming.

The little girl wriggled in his arms, reaching toward Addie with small, chubby hands.

And then—

Noise. Loud. Sharp. Reality crashing in like a violent wave, sweeping the dream away before she could hold onto it.


Her eyes snapped open.

The warmth was gone, ripped away so violently that she gasped, her body lurching forward.

Her skin was clammy. Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, disoriented and frantic.

For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was. The dream still clung to the edges of her mind, hazy and beautiful and painful. She reached for it, but it slipped through her fingers like sand.

And then she heard it.

Voices.

Addie stilled.

She could hear Leo’s voice outside the bathroom. Low. Familiar. But there was another voice, too. One that sent ice through her veins.

Richard.

Leo’s father.

She sucked in a breath, forcing herself to stay silent as she strained to listen.

The conversation was already heated. She could hear it in the tension laced through every syllable.

“…the wedding needs to be perfect.” Richard’s voice carried through the walls, cold and sharp.

A long silence.

Then—

“Train her so she doesn’t talk about all this working in politics nonsense.”

Her stomach turned violently.

Her nails dug into her palms, her entire body stiffening as she waited—prayed—for Leo to say something. To argue. To stand up for her. To… to be there for her when she wasn’t fcking there to stand up for herself.

But he didn’t.

Instead, there was only silence.

And then Richard’s voice again, firmer, colder.

“I’m serious, Leonardo. Get married. Get that fucking girl pregnant so she realizes where her place is.”

Addie’s world shattered.

She felt sick. Physically sick. Her ears rang. Her body felt like it wasn’t hers.

It was like drowning.

Leo’s response was quiet. Detached.

“Of course, Father.”

That was it. No argument. No defense.

And for the first time since she had met Leo, she felt something snap inside her.

Her heart didn’t just break—it disintegrated.

Footsteps. The conversation was ending.

Leo said something about having the file his father needed, and then they were leaving.

The front door closed softly.

And Addie finally let out a sound.

A broken, muffled sob.

Her hand clamped over her mouth, her shoulders shaking violently as the dam inside her cracked wide open.

Leo’s words—his silence—echoed in her head.

Get that fucking girl pregnant.
Yes, Father.

She was pregnant. And she had never felt more alone in her life.

Her body moved before she even realized it.

She reached for the pregnancy tests, grabbing them with shaking hands, stuffing them into the trash. She yanked the bag from the bin, clutching it so tightly her knuckles turned white.

She stumbled into the living room, her vision blurred, her chest tight.

And then she saw it.

The engagement ring on her finger.

It had once been the happiest thing she had ever worn. The promise of a forever she had dreamed of since Leo had put it there.

But now?

Now, it felt like a shackle.

Her breath came in short gasps as she sat down at the table, grabbed a piece of paper, and forced herself to write through the blur of tears.

𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎,
-𝒜

Her fingers trembled as she set the ring on top of the note.

She stared at it for a long, long time.

Every moment of their love—every kiss, every whispered promise—flashed in her mind like a cruel, painful montage.

Her body shook as she reached for her phone and placed it beside the letter.

And then she stood.

Her steps were slow, unsteady.

Her hand reached for the doorknob, her heart hammering.

And then—

A soft bark.

She turned.

Holly sat by her feet, looking up at her with wide, confused eyes. The tiny Maltese had been their baby. Their baby.

Addie choked back a sob.

She couldn’t leave her. She couldn’t leave everything.

So she bent down, scooped Holly into her arms, pressing her face into her soft fur for just a moment, before she turned back to the door.

One last look at the life she had built with Leo.

And then she stepped outside, into the cold California night.

Putting her hand out, she called for a taxi. And when it drove over, she climbed inside, her voice barely a whisper as she gave the address - her hand still clutching the garbage bag.

Her brother’s house.

And then she was gone.

@Littlefeets

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May 2040

Candice hadn’t expected Dom’s confession—that she was the reason he had been confident back then. It was one of those moments that caught her slightly off guard… which if being fully honest, was rare now-a-days. The last time, being, when Dom walked into her art gallery of course. The weight of it settling in before she could brush it off with an easy joke. Her smirk softened into something gentler, more genuine.

“You always had it in you, Dom. I just gave you the push.”

She let that sit between them for a second before quirking an eyebrow.

“Though, if that was your peak, you really did set the bar way too high in high school. It’s going to be rough knowing you’ll never top breaking into a museum for me.”

Candice took another sip of her wine, watching him as he spoke about the loneliness piece, his insight into how universal that emotion really was. She nodded along, her gaze lingering on the painting in front of her.

“It’s funny—people don’t like to admit how lonely they feel. Even when everyone feels it at some point.”

Then came his answer to her question.

Love.

Candice’s fingers tapped lightly against the stem of her glass as she listened, absorbing his words in a way that went beyond just talking about the painting. She could picture it—the way he kept himself busy, how he poured himself into his daughters, into his work, into anything that wouldn’t give him too much time alone with his thoughts.

She understood that more than she wanted to admit. She had more than her fair share of moments like that in her own life. After all, he wasn’t alone in shutting the world out.

“That… truly makes sense,” she said finally, nodding. “Sometimes the best way to move forward is just… to keep moving. Until one day, you look up, and things don’t feel so heavy anymore. I mean… the weight of it all is always there… but sometimes it’s helpful to have that person who makes it just a little lighter.”

Her smile returned when he reacted to her gallery plans, teasing his hesitation about standing in the middle of the room.

“Okay, fine,” she conceded with a smirk. “You can stand slightly off to the side. I’ll make sure no one forces you into the spotlight too much. Unless, of course, I change my mind last minute and make you give a speech.”

The playful glint in her eyes made it clear she was only half-joking.

When she told him about how Charlie had asked her out, she could tell he was genuinely entertained by it. The way he smiled, the way his eyes lit up at the story—it was nice. She hadn’t seen him like that in so many years.

“It was like something out of a movie, ironic because we were both working on a movie” Candice admitted, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass absentmindedly. “I mean, how do you not say yes to a guy who literally writes you a love story before you even go on a date?”

Her eyes flickered toward him as he admitted he might need another drink, and she let out a soft laugh.

“I’ll make sure to have one waiting for you on Saturday.” She smiled, then glanced at her watch, sighing as she pushed back her chair. “But for now, I should head out. My babysitter’s great, but I like to pretend I’m responsible and don’t leave my kids with her all night.”

Candice grabbed her clutch and stood up, smoothing out her dress as she gave Dom one last look.

“See you soon, Mr. Lucier-O’Brien. Annnnnd, don’t be late.”

With that, she turned and walked out, her heels clicking softly against the restaurant floor.


Saturday – Clarke-McDowell Gallery Opening Night

If the dinner had been an intimate moment, the gallery was the complete opposite.

The Clarke-McDowell Gallery’s grand opening had become one of the most talked-about events of the season, and it showed. Hundreds of influential people flooded the space—collectors, critics, fellow artists, and the kind of guests who weren’t just attending an art opening but were there to make things happen. Photographers moved through the space, flashes from their cameras illuminating the sleek, modern design of the gallery, while hushed conversations and the clinking of glasses filled the air.

It was exactly the kind of high-profile, high-pressure environment that Candice had spent years perfecting.

And at the center of it all—her father.

Joseph Clarke, one of the most celebrated photographers in the world, was effortlessly charming his way through the crowd. Candice caught glimpses of him talking to a group of younger photographers, gesturing animatedly as they hung onto his every word. He was in his element, as always, and for a moment, she let herself just watch him before turning her attention elsewhere.

Her own entrance had been timed to perfection.

Dressed in an elegant black gown that hugged her frame just enough to be effortlessly striking, her hair styled into a sleek bun, Candice moved through the space with an ease that came with experience. On her arm, Charlie—who, despite being far more at home behind a script than at events like this, had a natural warmth that made people gravitate toward him. Their baby was cradled in his arms, peacefully asleep despite the hum of conversation around them. And her son? Well, he was somewhere in the gallery, fawning over the girl he had been agonizing over for weeks. She supposed that counted as a win.

And then there was Dom.

Candice spotted him near the pieces she had chosen for tonight’s display, looking slightly out of place but not in a bad way. Just… adjusting. She had seen him earlier, talking to a few photographers, shaking hands with collectors—exactly the kind of interactions she had wanted for him tonight.

She approached him with a knowing smile, effortlessly slipping into his space as she extended a drink toward him.

“As you requested,” she said smoothly, offering the glass to him with a teasing glint in her eye. “A drink to survive the night. Just don’t get too comfortable—I will make you work for it.”

Her eyes flickered over him for a moment before she nodded approvingly.

“You clean up well, Mr. Lucier-O’Brien.” She gestured toward the space around them, the sheer energy of the room buzzing in the background. “So, how’s it been so far? I saw you charming a few photographers earlier—should I be concerned that you’re about to take over my gallery?”

Charlie stepped up beside her then, shifting their daughter slightly in his arms as he studied Dom with quiet interest. Candice turned toward them with a smooth ease, never missing a beat.

“You know,” she mused, casting Dom a sideways glance, “I think this is the first time I’ve ever been able to introduce you as the artist at one of these things instead of just my accomplice in on of our many trespassing incidents.”

She gave a soft laugh before motioning between them.

“Darling, this is Dominic. Dom, this is my husband and our little girl.”

Charlie gave Dom a polite but warm nod, his grip shifting slightly to better support their daughter. His expression was relaxed, clearly used to the way Candice maneuvered her way through nights like this.

“So, where’s your husband?” Candice asked casually, taking a sip of her own drink. “Or did he wisely escape the madness before it started?”

Charlie chuckled at that, glancing at Dom with an amused expression.

“If he did, I wouldn’t blame him. I barely made it out myself,” Charlie quipped playfully before adding with an easy grin, “But I have to say, your work is incredible. Candice wouldn’t stop talking about it after your dinner the other night.”

Candice shot her husband a look, but there was no real irritation behind it.

“It was a business dinner,” she corrected smoothly before glancing back at Dom with a smirk. “Though, I suppose I did slightly hype you up. But don’t let it go to your head.”

There was warmth in her voice, a balance of teasing and sincerity that made it clear—she was proud of him.

And tonight? It was just the beginning.

@Caticorn

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image

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There were a lot of things Paige Pierce could tolerate. Grief, heartbreak, loss—she’d dealt with them all in her own spectacularly dysfunctional way. But what she couldn’t tolerate was Enrique Montoya sitting outside Annie’s house in his pathetic little green car like some lovesick idiot on a goddamn pilgrimage.

She’d spotted him before she even turned onto the street, parked in the exact same spot he’d apparently been every day since Annie disappeared off the face of the earth. And maybe a more compassionate person would’ve found it sweet. Maybe they would’ve admired the dedication, the unwavering concern in the way he kept coming back, calling, waiting.

Paige? Paige just thought it was f*cking stupid.

Rolling her eyes, she walked right up to the passenger side of his car and yanked the door open, sliding in before Ricky could even react. He startled, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before groaning when he realized who it was.

“Jesus Christ, Pierce, what the f*ck—”

“No, you don’t get to talk,” Paige cut in, snapping her fingers in front of his face like she was training a particularly dumb dog. “Whatever self-pitying monologue you were about to hit me with? Save it. You’re going home.”

Ricky’s jaw clenched, his fingers gripping the steering wheel like he was physically restraining himself from punching something. Probably her. Which, fair.

“I’ve been coming here every day.” His voice was hoarse, edged with exhaustion. “Calling. She won’t pick up.”

“No sh*t, she lost her mom” Paige said flatly. “And you sitting out here like some sad f*cking rom-com protagonist is definitely the way to get her back, right? What’s the plan, Montoya? You wait here long enough, and she just magically comes outside, sees you, and decides you don’t make everything worse?”

The muscle in his jaw twitched. Paige leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.

“Look, I’m not saying you don’t care. I know you care. That’s the whole f*cking problem.” She gestured toward the house, where Annie hadn’t so much as cracked a window in days. “You think what she needs right now is you? After everything?”

That one hit. Paige saw it in the way Ricky flinched, even if he tried to hide it. He didn’t respond right away, just dragged a hand down his face like he was trying to rub away the weight of every bad decision he’d ever made.

“She’s shutting everyone out,” he muttered finally, staring at the house like if he willed it hard enough, Annie would just let him in. “I just… I can’t sit here and do nothing.”

“Good news: you don’t have to,” Paige said, reaching over and smacking his shoulder hard enough to make him wince. “Because I am. So go home, Ricky. She doesn’t need you hovering like a ghost. Not right now.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She just got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her before Ricky could say another word.

Because the thing was? Paige wasn’t sure she was what Annie needed either. But she was the only one who was going to force her out of this sh*t, and sometimes, that was the best anyone could do.


Inside was worse than she expected.

It wasn’t just that Annie hadn’t been answering texts. It was the silence. The suffocating kind. The kind that felt like grief had settled into the walls, thick and unmoving, refusing to let anything else exist in its place. The blinds were shut so tight that the air in the house was stale, like it hadn’t been touched by anything remotely fresh in weeks. Everything about the room felt stuck, frozen in time at the exact moment Annie decided to stop participating in the world.

For a second—a rare, fleeting second—Paige hesitated. Because maybe this was hypocritical of her. Maybe she had no fcking right to be here when she’d spent the last week avoiding her own sht like it was the plague.

She had her own reasons to lie in bed all day. She had her own reasons to disappear. She lost her father. Both of them. Two men, two funerals, two different kinds of grief pressing against her ribs so tightly she thought she might crack under it if she let herself feel it too long.

So yeah. Fck her life too. But whatever, life was sad; they all still had to get up in the fcking morning.

And Annie? Annie wasn’t getting up.

Paige’s eyes landed on the unmoving lump of blankets, barely even a person underneath it, and just like that, the hesitation was gone.

With a sharp tug, she yanked the blinds open, flooding the room with light.

“Well, this is a sight for sore eyes,” she muttered, scanning the mess around her with barely concealed disdain. Honestly, this was a fcking disaster, but Paige decided to tone her language down. Annie groaned in protest, squinting against the sudden brightness, and Paige rolled her eyes right back at her.

“Oh, no, no, we’re not doing that,” she continued, reaching forward to yank the covers off Annie before she could hide under them again.

Annie looked… well. F*cking awful, honestly. Her hair was tangled, her face hollowed, her clothes practically molding into her skin at this point. Paige exhaled sharply through her nose, lips pressed into a thin line.

She didn’t ask if Annie was okay. Because she wasn’t. And because the answer didn’t matter.

Somehow, through sheer force of will, she got Annie to agree to a shower. It was a small victory, but she’d take it. As Annie disappeared into the bathroom, Paige stood in the middle of the wreckage of what used to be her sister’s room.

And for a second—just a second—she let herself feel it.

The weight of everything.

Paige didn’t do grief. Not properly. She locked it up tight and buried it under drugs, bad decisions, and a little too much tequila on an empty stomach. But here, in this room where Annie had drowned in it, Paige felt the sharp edges of her own loss pressing against her lungs.

She ignored it. Because that’s what she did.

Instead, she turned her attention to the mess around her. Clothes strewn across the floor, containers of old food collecting dust on the nightstand, the faint, stale smell of nothing lingering in the air. Christ. This place really was a biohazard.

Paige wasn’t the type to clean. But she also wasn’t the type to let sh*t sit around long enough to become this. So she did what she could. Tossed old food in the trash, gathered the discarded clothes into a pile, wiped down the nightstand with the sleeve of her own hoodie.

And then she stood in front of Annie’s closet, debating.

Picking clothes for other people wasn’t exactly her thing. But she wasn’t about to let Annie crawl back into whatever rotting hoodie she’d been living in. Eventually, she settled on a sweater that looked somewhat wearable and a pair of jeans that didn’t scream I haven’t left my bed in weeks.

She knocked on the bathroom door and shoved them inside when Annie cracked it open. “You better not be putting back on those biohazards you’re mistaking for clothes.”

There was no argument. Not one Paige was willing to entertain, anyway.

She didn’t do soft. She didn’t do delicate. She forced people to stand up, even when they didn’t want to.

And hell, she forced herself to stand up too, didn’t she?

It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t gentle. But it was what Annie needed.


Hours later, Paige slid the coffee across the table in the middle of a too-bright, too-loud coffee shop, watching as Annie curled further into herself. She looked like she wanted to disappear. Like all of this—the noise, the people, the life—was too much.

Paige didn’t give her the option.

“Your mom would hate this.”

Annie flinched. Paige saw it. She also ignored it.

What? It needed to be said. It really f*cking did.

“Giving up and hiding away. This isn’t what she wanted.”

She had seen the video… Hell, probably the whole world had seen it by now. Her mother’s last speech. The one where she spoke about turning pages, about how endings weren’t really endings.

Annie’s hands curled into fists on the table. Her shoulders rose slightly.

Paige leaned back, fingers tapping against the side of her cup. “Sadie may not be here, and I am… I’m so sorry for that, but the least you can do is try to honor her wishes. She wanted more for you. If not for you, do it for your dad, Justin, Kyra. For your mom.”

And maybe… maybe Paige needed to do the same.

But she was better at giving the advice than she was at taking it.

Her voice, for once, wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t mocking or biting or laced with cynicism. It was just… honest.

And maybe that was enough. Maybe it had to be.

@novella

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The “Something Old” - 2031 - Part 12

The exhaustion hit her all at once.

One moment, she was sitting up in bed, her back pressed against the headboard, the dim glow of her bedside lamp casting long shadows across the room with the light from the sun peeking through. The journal lay open in her lap, pages crinkled from how tightly she had been gripping them, her fingers tracing over the jagged edges where pages had once been.

Torn. Ripped. Gone.

She had been staring at them for what felt like hours, willing the missing words to materialize, filling in the gaps with her imagination. But the more she searched, the more she realized—she wasn’t going to find the answers here. Not in this book.

Jess had seen fragments. Words scattered like broken glass across the remaining pages.

“disappeared…”
“I’m numb…”
“I killed them…”

That last one had been scribbled so hastily it looked like her mother had been shaking when she wrote it. Jess’s chest tightened at the thought.

She exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand over her face before glancing toward the crib in the corner of the room.

Shay had finally drifted off after fussing for over an hour, her tiny chest rising and falling in the rhythmic peace of sleep. Jess had rocked her, humming quietly, feeling the weight of her daughter in her arms. It had helped. A little. The steady warmth of her baby, the soft scent of her skin, the way she curled so trustingly into Jess’s chest.

It reminded her what mattered.

She had kissed Shay’s forehead before laying her down gently, adjusting the blanket around her before turning back toward the bed.

Dorian was still asleep, his breaths even, his arm sprawled over her side of the mattress as if reaching for her even in sleep. The sight of him should have comforted her. It usually did.

But tonight, she still felt unsettled.

And as soon as her head hit the pillow, she felt Dori shift and within his arms, the exhaustion won.


The dream wasn’t random. It never was when she fell asleep with her mother’s words in her mind.

It took her back to the journal—to the last thing she had read.

Except… the pages were missing.

She could see them in front of her, the ink bleeding into the torn edges, but they were unreadable. Every time she tried to reach for them, they slipped through her fingers like sand.

Jess felt the absence of them like a gaping wound, a hollow space where answers should have been.

Her subconscious tried to fill in the blanks.

The ink blurred and shifted, forming shapes—then faces.

Leo.

Or at least, what she imagined him to look like.

She had only ever seen photos. Faded clippings her mom had. He had been so untouchable in her mind, larger than life, a man whose name alone carried weight.

But this wasn’t the man she had read about in Forbes articles or the father of the boy she had once loved.

This was the boy her mother had loved.

The boy who had looked at her mother like she was the only thing that mattered.

His blonde hair was tousled - making him look so similar to Kai… but Jess couldn’t explain it… he looked different too… his suit slightly wrinkled as if he had been running his hands through it all night. His sharp blue-grey eyes—so eerily similar to Kai’s—weren’t cold or calculating like in the articles. They were raw. Pained.

He was speaking, but Jess couldn’t hear him.

His lips moved, his expression tense, but the sound was muffled, distorted, like someone had pressed pause on the world around him.

She tried to focus. To understand. But it was slipping away.

Then, suddenly—his face twisted, his expression darkening.

And the dream cracked apart like shattered glass.

@astxrism


The steady rhythm of Harry’s breathing filled the space beside her, slow and even, but Addie was awake.

Wide awake.

She had been staring at the ceiling for hours, her body still, but her mind running in endless circles.

Jess was going to ask today.

Her daughter—her relentless, brilliant daughter—was going to sit across from her, journal in hand, waiting for an explanation. Jess would ask questions the way only she could, peeling back layers, digging for the truth like she always did.

And Addie had no idea where to start.

She knew Jess had at least read the beginning. Had pieced together enough to know that her mother had once been engaged to Leonardo Azure—the same Leonardo Azure who Jess knew as a ruthless businessman, and, more personally, the father of a boy Jess had once loved.

But bloody hell, there was so much more to the story. So much more that Addie often tried to forget.

Her gaze drifted to Harry beside her. His face was relaxed in sleep, but she knew the weight he carried, the years etched into his features. The years they had shared. The ones before him.

For a fleeting moment, she considered waking him.

Letting him hold her.

Letting him ground her the way he had done so many times before.

The way he had done in the more recent years at least…

But some things—some memories—felt too heavy even for him to carry. Some were heavier than she could carry with him. Some nightmares, after all, had been caused by Harry.

But more often, they were caused by herself.

So what was she supposed to tell her daughter? That she had loved and let go of a man?

That she had walked away from the life she thought she wanted, only to find herself lost?

No. That wasn’t enough. That wasn’t the truth.

So instead, she closed her eyes.

And let herself slip back.

The moment when everything changed…

That was the one that hit her first.

The memory was sharp. Too sharp.

Leo.

His name curled through her mind before she could stop it.

She thought of him too often. Even after all these years. Even after everything.

She thought about the last time she had seen him. The weight of his gaze across the room. The briefest brush of fingers against hers before they were pulled apart again.

She thought about his touch. His lips.

The stolen moments.

The nights when guilt and longing tangled together into something she couldn’t name.

But more than anything—she thought about that night.

Mexico.

The memory lurked beneath the surface, waiting to pull her under.

And this time, she let it.


1999 - Dream

The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the empty road ahead. The only sound was the low hum of the tires against the pavement, steady and relentless, mirroring the rapid beat of her heart.

Justin’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles pale against the leather.

He had long stopped asking questions.

The silence was suffocating, but what could he say?

What could she say?

Addie sat in the passenger seat, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around herself as if that could keep her from unraveling completely.

Her hands trembled.

Her lips felt numb.

Her chest ached.

She could still feel the weight of the ring on her finger.

Could still taste the lie in her mouth.

Could still hear the words that had sent her running.

Leo’s words.

Richard’s words.

“Just get that fucking girl pregnant so she realizes where her place is.”

A sob clawed its way up her throat, but she swallowed it down.

Her stomach twisted violently, bile rising, but she forced herself to stare ahead, her eyes locked on the endless stretch of road in front of them.

The road that led them south.

She clenched her jaw as the memory slammed into her like a punch to the gut.

She was pregnant.

She wouldn’t be for long.

She couldn’t be.

The thought made her vision blur.

Her hands curled into fists in her lap, nails digging into her palms until the sting grounded her, until the pain kept her from breaking apart entirely.

Justin glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his mouth parting like he wanted to say something.

But he didn’t.

Because what was there to say?

The road stretched ahead, endless and unforgiving.

They kept driving.

She wasn’t ready.

Not yet.

But eventually, she would have to be.

Eventually, she would have to face what came next.

And tomorrow—she would have to tell Jess.

@Littlefeets

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Trigger Warning: Self Harm, Abortion

December, 1999

The exhaustion hit her like a freight train.

One moment, she was staring at the tattered, tear-streaked pages of her journal, her body curled up in the stiff motel bed, fingers clutching the edges of the sheets like they were the only thing keeping her grounded.

And the next—she was slipping into darkness.

But the darkness didn’t last.

It never did.

Because the moment she drifted off, she was back.

Back to that night. Back to a few hours ago.

Back to him.

“Of course, Father.”

The words rang in her ears, over and over, like a goddamn broken record, each repetition louder, harsher, until it didn’t even sound like Leo’s voice anymore—just a collection of syllables that felt like a knife digging into her ribs. And god damn… did it hurt more and more every fcking time.

Addie watched the memory play out from the outside, an unwilling observer to her own past. She saw herself sitting in the bathroom of Leo’s penthouse, frozen, her breath coming in short, choked gasps.

She could see the moment her heart cracked. The precise second when the foundation of everything she had built with him crumbled beneath her feet.

Leo was standing in the living room, his posture stiff, his expression unreadable, his father’s presence looming over him like a shadow. In the dream she could see it - once she left her own body in the bathroom. She could see her fian… her ex fiancé standing there grabbing a file as his father talked to him. Her mind was filling in the blanks even when all she wanted was darkness… a moment of peace.

“Get that fucking girl pregnant so she realizes where her place is.”

It was Richard’s voice now, curling around her like a noose.

Leo didn’t argue.

Leo didn’t fight.

He just stood there, looking through the file as if this was a conversation he often listened to. Often… agreed to.

And Addie—she felt like she was suffocating.

Her place.

The words clung to her skin like a brand.

She turned and ran.


The dream shifted.

Now, she was outside Justin’s apartment, pounding on the door like her life depended on it.

The door swung open, and Justin stood there, blinking blearily at her. His hair was messy, his shirt half-buttoned—he had clearly been asleep.

“Jesus, Addie, what—”

And then he saw her face.

The panic.

The tears.

The absolute devastation.

His expression darkened immediately, his hand reaching out. “Addie, what happened? Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?”

She shook her head violently, words clogging her throat, coming out in short, broken fragments.

“I…I…I ne…need you…to… to drive.”

“Drive where?” His eyes flickered with concern, scanning her face.

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she pushed past him, rushing inside. Her movements were erratic, frantic—she was pulling drawers open, grabbing her passport, then his, stuffing them into a small bag.

Justin’s eyebrows shot up. “Addie, what the hell are you doing?”

She wasn’t listening. How could she? Everything was… buzzing in her ears. So fcking loud that she couldn’t hear anything anymore.

Her hands were shaking as she zipped the bag shut, her breathing ragged.

“We…we have to go.”

Justin stepped in front of her, his jaw tightening. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “It… it… it doesn’t matter.”

“Like hell it doesn’t,” He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Addie, talk to me. Where the fuck do you want to go? Are you in trouble?”

Her stomach twisted violently.

“I just—I just need to leave, Justin. I… I… I need to—”

His grip tightened slightly. “Did something happen with Leo?”

No. No, no, no.

The second she heard his name, she broke.

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed right there in the middle of his apartment.

Justin was down in an instant, pulling her into his arms as the violent sobs tore through her.

“Hey, hey, I got you. I got you, okay?” His voice was softer now, soothing.

But she couldn’t stop.

She felt hollow.

Shattered.

Numb.

Broken.

She pressed a hand against her stomach, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps.

Justin glanced down, following her movement. His brow furrowed… but he didn’t ask any questions.

“Please,” she whispered, voice hoarse. “Just drive.”

There was a long pause.

Then, finally—he exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Okay.”


The dream twisted again.

Now, she was in the car.

The map sat open in her lap, the paper crinkled at the edges from how tightly she was holding it.

Justin’s hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

“Addie, where are we going?”

She didn’t answer.

“Addie, what happened? You can’t just shut down like this. You have to talk to me.”

Nothing.

“Addie—”

She just kept crying.

Justin clenched his jaw, glancing at the map.

“Are we going to Mexico?”

She swallowed hard.

“Please, Justin.”

His shoulders sagged.

“Fuck.”

An hour passed. Then two. Then three.

At hour four, Justin’s phone rang.

Leo.

Addie saw the name flash on the screen.

Without hesitating, she reached over, took the phone, and blocked the number.

“Jesus, Addie!” Justin snapped.

She didn’t respond.

She just stared out the window, the tears never stopping.


Addie woke to the sound of silence.

Her body was heavy. Too heavy.

The motel room was small, cramped—just two twin beds and a dusty nightstand between them.

Justin was passed out on the other bed, his body sprawled awkwardly, exhaustion written in every line of his face. She couldn’t blame him… he had been driving over 12 hours…

Her limbs felt stiff as she forced herself up.

The air was thick, suffocating.

She moved to the mirror, her fingers trembling as she lifted her shirt.

Her stomach was still flat.

Still the same.

But she wasn’t.

The moment her eyes landed on her reflection, her breath hitched.

Richard’s voice echoed in her mind, the words curling around her throat like a noose.

“Get that fucking girl pregnant so she realizes where her place is.”

A silent sob ripped through her as she pressed a hand against her stomach, her knees nearly giving out.

She had to do this.

She had to.

She grabbed the motel notepad and scribbled a quick note.

𝐼’𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃. 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝑔𝑜 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒.
-𝒜

Then, without a second thought, she walked out.


The front desk was empty except for a young girl who looked barely older than Addie.

Addie’s voice shook as she spoke.

“Por favor… necesito ayuda.” Please… I need help.

The girl looked confused. “¿Con qué?” With what?

Addie pressed a hand against her stomach as tears started falling down her eyes.

“Yo…yo…no…yo no…” I…I…don’t…I don’t… Addie couldn’t get the words out… but it seemed that she didn’t have to.

The girl’s expression softened instantly.

“Un momento.”

A few minutes later, an older woman appeared from the back of the motel.

“Hay una mujer. Un poco lejos. Ella ya ayudó a otras chicas antes… pero no es… seguro.” There’s a woman. A little far away. She’s helped other girls before… but it’s not… safe.
Addie didn’t hesitate.

“No me importa.” I don’t mind.

The woman studied her for a long moment, her gaze softening even more, and then she sighed hesitantly.

And then—she gave Addie the address.

And Addie went.


It was a 25 minute walk…

It was small. Dark. Hidden.

She knocked.

The door creaked open, and the woman on the other side studied her carefully.

Addie didn’t say a word.

She just broke.

Collapsed.

The woman caught her before she hit the ground.

“Pasa, niña.” Come in, girl.


The air was thick. Heavy.

She lay on the bed, her pants discarded, her legs trembling as she opened them.

She kept her eyes closed.

The metal scraped softly against the table.

The woman muttered something, but Addie wasn’t listening.

She couldn’t listen.

She just wanted it to be over. She wanted all of this to be over.

She felt the shift of movement.

Then—pain.

Sharp. Deep. Unforgiving.

A strangled sound escaped her lips.

But she didn’t fight it.

She let the darkness take her.

@Littlefeets

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