O I Long to Feel Your Arms Around Me
https://archiveofourown.org/works/83481706
Twelve light-years from Earth, Commander Y/f/n Y/l/n wakes up as one of two remaining crew members of the Hail Mary Mission. Her only companion is Dr. Ryland Grace, the world's leading astrophage expert and her best friend. Will the Commander be able to ignore her growing feelings for the Dr. and save humanity, or will she succumb to her deepest desire?
Better known as a Ryland Grace/Reader fic following the plot of Project Hail Mary.
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“Alright,” You say, “Spill.”
The man sitting beside you is by no means sober, but you need to figure out what the hell is going on so you don’t particularly care. Right now, both of you are sitting in the cockpit of the Hail Mary. Grace is fidgeting while sipping a cup of water you got for him, while you are running through some basic diagnostic tests from the pilot’s seat. You left on whatever playlist Grace had chosen for background noise, so the two of you are currently being serenaded by the sweet vocals of Bowie’s Starman.
You pull your eyes away from the plethora of screens when Grace doesn't immediately respond. His eyes are already on you and there is an embarrassed look on his face.
“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way,” Grace starts, “But what’s your first name?”
You tell him and he repeats it back. Your mouth quirks downward at how foreign he makes it sound.
“Alright, so I woke up roughly ten days ago. Alone.” He continues, eyes flashing away from yours toward his lap, fiddling with the zipper on his (your) jacket, “At the time, I’d thought I was in the hospital or something, with all the tubes and wires and medical equipment, y’know?” He gave a weak laugh, “But once I finally remembered my name and got out of that freaking room, I figured out where I was.” His eyes shoot back to yours as he continues on a bit more frantically, “And I panicked, ok? Like any sane person would, because I have no idea what I am doing in space!”
“How much do you remember?” You question, glancing back at your screens. You saw him shake his head out of the corner of your eye.
“Not much. I remember my name, some things from childhood, that I used to be a middle school science teacher on Earth, and that I was studying astrophage at the behest of Eva Stratt. Nothing else yet.” Grace says so helplessly it makes your heart ache.
“This must just be a side effect of the coma,” You decide, pulling up the next test to check the status of the fuel stores. “We all have the resistance gene, but the scientists studying it told us they couldn’t be exactly sure how our bodies would be affected. Most of my memories returned within thirty minutes of waking up, but here and there something small will come back. Yours must be taking a bit longer.”
“Wait, what gene?” Grace asks, bewildered.
“The long-term coma resistance gene.” You start while still clicking around, “It’s just what it sounds like. A gene found in roughly one in 7,000 people that allows them to be put into an extended coma without dying.”
“Yup. You have it, I have it, as well as our pilot Yáo and engineer Ilyukhina.” Grace seems to bristle a bit at this so you turn to him and continue on a bit gentler, “That’s why we were chosen to be on this mission, Stratt needed people like us who were going to be able to survive the long journey from our solar system to Tau Ceti.”
“Why put people in comas at all though? It was only four years, right?”
“I always figured it was so we didn’t drive each other crazy. Four years is a long time to spend on a spaceship with only three other people. Never knew for sure though. Honestly, you probably have a better idea of what Stratt’s motivations were. You were her second in command.” This gains a strong reaction from Grace.
“Me? I was the second in command?” He says, leaning in disbelievingly; it’s not hard to tell he’s thinking back on the state you found him in earlier.
“Yup.” You say simply, and Grace leans back in his chair, hands on his head.
“So I was like… What, Stratt’s coffee guy?” The corners of your mouth pull into a smile as you turn back to your screens, this time testing a couple of switches for the floodlights attached to the ship. Grace always found a way to downplay his accomplishments to people; it should’ve been no surprise that he’d try to do the same even with no real memory.
“Not even close,” You reply, “You went everywhere with her, helped her with her most important decisions, stood in for her when she was otherwise occupied, and were her first point of contact.” You chose not to mention that there were rumors about the two of them sleeping together, not wanting to have it possibly confirmed. You think back to all those times aboard the aircraft carrier when your plans with Grace were rearranged because Stratt was dragging him around. “Not to mention, you are the premier expert on astrophage. She was right to have you by her side.” You hope he didn’t hear the jealousy tinging your voice.
“So I was her little science lapdog? I’m sorry, I just can’t imagine that-”
“Feel free to ask either Yáo or Ilyukhina.” You reply a bit sharply, “They will tell you the same exact thing.”
Grace bristles again which makes you feel slightly bad about snapping at him, but if there’s one thing you cannot stand it's Grace underestimating himself. Which he knows, or you guess, he knew. You narrow your eyes at the man unflinchingly, until you see tears well up in his eyes. Your body goes cold. Too far.
“Listen,” Grace starts, voice trembling, “There’s something you need to know… About the rest of the crew.” But his voice sounds strange, like he is approaching a wounded animal. It finally clicks. It’s the same way your dad had sounded when he told you mom had passed. That’s why Grace was so startled earlier when you found him, why he’d drunk himself stupid. Before you had woken up, he’d believed he was the only living person left on this ship.
He’s still talking when you get up. Not caring whether Grace follows, your feet take you with deadly calm through the ship, leading you ladder to ladder until you make it to the dormitory hatch. With a shaky breath you start downwards, and it doesn’t take you long to find them. When you’d woken up, you’d been so concerned about yourself and the mission that you hadn’t really bothered taking in your full surroundings. But right there, about halfway to the bottom, were the bodies of your friends.
For a quick second after you pull the sheet back on the first bed, you can’t tell who you are looking at. A body with dry, leathery skin about one gust of wind from flaking off entirely lies where former pilot Yáo should be. You knew he was in this bed, you helped prep him for the journey in this bed, your brain just cannot accept that the body in front of you is actually him. You reach for the visible dog tags around the body’s neck. It confirms your worst fear, 姚, Yáo. You pull your hand back quickly as though burned by the small piece of metal, mind reeling. You quickly pull the white sheet back over him and climb downwards.
If Yáo was up in the first bed, then you already knew who would be staring up at you in this one. You will your breath to stay steady but feel sick, knuckles turning white as you grip the ladder rung. C’mon, you tell yourself, Stratt picked you because you knew how to put your game face on and get shit done, even when it felt like the world was ending, right? So then fucking do it. You pull back the sheet covering her in one fluid motion and feel all the air leave your body.
“Cестричка!” Ilyukhina called to you over the noise of the crowd from your usual table, “Get me another vodka!”
It’s a Friday night on the aircraft carrier and you’d just walked through the door of the break room, hair still damp from your recent shower. Today had been a bit of a rough day, you’d had back-to-back meetings with Stratt on mission logistics, simulation training with your alternate that had run long causing you both to miss lunch, and finally a meeting between the primary crew of the Hail Mary and Grace, which was… tough. With launch almost here, it had finally been time to decide how you wanted to die. You had been afforded this one luxury: being able to die on your own terms. It really wasn’t a difficult choice for you all things considered, but it did bring things back into perspective. Needless to say, you could use a damn drink.
“You do realize that ‘little sister’ is going to be the one giving you orders for the rest of your life in about a month, right?” You said with a smile, taking your seat and setting down her drink as well as your own.
“No, cannot be right. You are only a baby.”
“I turn twenty eight in like two weeks Ilukhina.” You said with a slight air of indignation.
“See, just a baby! I guess that means I only have so much longer to boss you around, cестричка.” Ilyukhina fired back and clinked her glass with your own, “Поехали!”
You each took a sip of your drink and settled into an easy conversation, chatted about your days, gossiped, and everything in between. Somebody across the room had taken it upon themselves to start up the karaoke machine, so you listened to a rather lacklustre performance of Vienna while you chatted. Pretty soon, you started to feel that nice warm buzz coming to take the day's weight off your shoulders. It doesn’t take long for the conversation to shift to Ilyukhina’s favorite topic, who she was currently sleeping with.
“I mean why do men even have penises if they are not going to learn how to use them?” Ilyukhina loudly complained, “Like seriously, I say ‘like that’ and he go faster, I say ‘right there’ and he change angle, I do not understand!”
At this point, you’re laughing so hard you’re afraid you’ll snort and send your drink right up your nose. You couldn’t help but wonder if whoever she was talking about was somewhere in the room listening to every word.
“Maybe he doesn’t speak English?” You offered through laughs.
“I thought that too! I say again in Russian and in Mandarin but still nothing works.” She grumbled as you laughed some more. Ilyukhina always had new stories to tell you. She frequently used her celebrity status as one of the main mission crew to talk her way into just about anyone’s pants. She’d teased you a couple of times for your more reserved approach, having only been with two people since coming aboard about a year ago. “Come on!” She’d exclaimed, “We are going to die, you should have fun while you can!” Hookups just weren’t your thing, especially in such close quarters. It was like college all over again. You’d drawn a line in the sand with Ilyukhina after the third time you’d walked into your shared room, only to find her mid-hookup. No sexual partners in your shared room. She’d thankfully respected your wish, having to settle with just verbally telling you about her escapades instead of you directly bearing witness.
As you put your drink to your mouth, attempting to restrain your giggles, you spot a familiar head of dirty blond hair making his way through the crowd as the karaoke singer starts their final chorus. Surprised to see Grace out for a drink, you called out to him, waving him over to join you and Ilyukhina. He stopped for a second after realizing it was you, gaze boring into yours, and without response beelined it for the door. Your heart sank in disappointment as you watched him leave.
“What’s his deal?” Ilyukhina asks, having watched the entire thing.
“I don’t know,” You replied, “Maybe it has to do with the meeting from earlier.”
“Probably. You especially did not make it easy for him. Plus, Dr. Grace has made very clear from beginning that he is uncomfortable with sending people to die for Earth." She said simply, “He probably push it to back of his mind, only to remember now that we talk about it today.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” You said and sipped your drink. Grace had seemed a bit off today in the meeting, more fidgety than normal. He’d also had this look in his eyes that made you worried he was going to just get up and sprint out of the conference room, but he’d thankfully stayed and heard you all out. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder a bit self-consciously if there’d been some other reason your friend ignored you.
You and Ilyukhina stayed silent for a bit, both in your own heads. The room was still bustling, having only gotten busier since you arrived. You took the chance to look around at everyone here, scientists, engineers, soldiers. A new group was at the karaoke machine now, butchering a rendition of that old Natasha Bedingfield song. By the time they got to the chorus they were practically yelling into the microphone, causing you to wince, but their gusto made you smile. They all deserved this moment of reprieve. They’re the ones with the hard part of dealing with what’s to come, the mass hysteria, the crop failure, the wars. If you were being honest, you almost felt lucky. All you really had to do was take some samples.
“Finally feels real, huh.” Ilyukhina said a bit lower, looking into her empty glass.
“Yeah,” You mumbled with a sigh, “Yeah, it does.” Another minute passed between the two of you before Ilyukhina unexpectedly grabbed your hand, which startled you. You looked up to find her eyes shining with tears.
“You must know,” She started, voice quavering the slightest bit, “To get to know you cестричка, has been greatest honor of my life. More so to die with you.”
With that she squeezed your hand, and your voice failed you. You and your team had known from the start what was to come and never once complained. You’d faced the challenge head-on together, doing everything in your power to make sure humanity had a fighting chance. You were proud of the hard work put in by your crew. But after the last year, you knew these people, knew their likes and dislikes, their quirks and coffee orders. They’d become people that you loved, trusted, and wanted nothing but the best for. They’d become your family. So while laying down your life was something you'd come to accept, facing the fact that your crew was to lay down theirs as well… All you could give Ilyukhina was a watery smile and a nod. The honor is all mine, big sister.
“So,” She said in a forcibly lighter tone, letting go of your hand and taking a second to wipe her eyes before leaning back in close, “Do you think Dr. Grace knows how to properly pleasure a woman in bed?”
And with that, the moment was over and you were blushing as you laughed all over again.
The sounds of footsteps pull you back to reality. Glancing up, you see Grace staring down at you.
“You ok?” He asks tentatively.
“Fine.” You reply before yanking the sheet back over Ilyukhina’s face and climbing up to meet him. When you reach the last rung he offers his hand and you take it. Butterflies immediately erupt in your stomach. Stupid things, now is not the time.
The two of you sit yourselves down in the small corridor, a heavy weight palpable. Neither of you spoke for quite some time. Grace must’ve stopped the music while you were checking on the others because the only thing that greets your ears is the ambient noise of the ship, occasionally broken up by sniffles from the man across from you. To be honest, you weren’t sure what to even say. Half your crew is dead. Not only that, but Grace has been rendered useless for the time being because of his lack of memory. The weight of the entire mission's success rests on your shoulders at this point. Were you just supposed to act as if nothing happened? You already knew that the answer was yes. You need to be able to function, not be incapacitated by grief. Of course, you’d all been prepped on what to do if a crew member were to die during the mission, but it all felt so wrong now. To accept their death so quickly felt as though you were dishonoring their sacrifice, ignoring their contribution to the people of Earth. As though they died for nothing.
“So yeah…” Grace croaks, “That’s what happened.”
You didn’t respond, fighting against the tide of your emotions, afraid they might pull you under.
“When I woke up, I found everyone dead. Even you.” Grace says, and then after a moment follows with, “Why aren’t you dead?”
You’re not sure how to respond, but settle on a weak shrug, “I don’t know.”
“I’m happy I’m not alone,” Grace says, “I’m happy you’re here with me now.”
You can tell he means it too. Your heart helplessly somersaults in your chest hearing him say it.
“Me too.” You reply with a grim smile.
You eventually go back up to the cockpit, set on finishing up all the diagnostic procedures, leaving Grace to his own devices for the time being. It takes well over two hours, the silence buzzing in your ears all the while. But you’re happy to have something to do besides spiral into nothingness. By the time you finish everything the lights are starting to autodim for the ship’s night cycle, signaling to both you and Grace that it’s time for bed.
You make your way back down where you left him, and find Grace curled up against the bottom of the ladder, asleep. You give him a slight nudge to wake up and say, “Come on Ry, time for bed.” And walk towards the ladder down to the dormitory.
“Wait.” Grace croaks behind you. Turning back, you can see his eyes darting towards the hatch and back to you, dread clearly written on his face. He doesn’t want to sleep down there any more than you do. You think for a moment before deciding on an idea.
“Hold on one second.” You tell him and descend the ladder, doing your best to ignore the bodies as you climb. First, you find yourself an outfit for bed, which ends up being a tank top and a pair of black leggings. Your braid has held up well enough that you leave it as is, and then turn to the rest of the room. The beds themselves are bolted to the walls, but you grab the linens from two and start the climb back up. When you make it back to the top, Grace is there waiting, having also taken the time to shed his extra layers. Without speaking, you throw him some blankets and a pillow and get to work in the dim light. The two of you make your beds in silence on separate sides of the small area. Once done you both lay under the covers for a while, not saying anything. You turn on your side to face him
“Goodnight Grace.” You say into the dim room.
He briefly turns his head to face you, “Goodnight.”
Bright lights swirl behind his eyes. Two cups of coffee, made just to taste. Melodic humming. Hair blowing in the wind. Early mornings. The smell of something… No someone. Music playing from an unknown source. Pink lips pulling into a smile. Matching Converse. He looks up to find an endless sea of stars and fabulous colors, all blues and pinks and purples. Soft skin. Camera flashes. A pair of eyes that seem to have their own gravitational pull. Shared headphones. Wishing for more time. The charged moment before a kiss. A bottle of wine. Pain radiating from his chest, his neck. Wishing. A familiar voice.
“I mean, we wouldn’t want to waste such a lovely night.”
Ryland opens his eyes with a groan. It seems his three day bender is finally coming to an end and is putting up a fair fight. He is too warm, his mouth is dry, and he’s got a splitting headache that seems to be getting worse by the minute. Just wonderful. The lights are still dim around the lab, so it must not be too long since he initially fell asleep. Gosh, he wishes he had a watch right now. Yes, he knows that it’s effectively useless now that he’s no longer on Earth, but he’d like to know relatively what time it is. Does it ultimately matter whether it's 11 pm or 2 am? No, not really, but he wants to know, ok? Hopefully, tomorrow he can muster up the courage to go in the dormitory and find one in his stuff. He would get up now, but he deems sleeping away his mistakes more important. Shifting on to his right side, Ryland closes his eyes. He’s surprisingly comfortable on the floor, but he just can’t settle in. See, this is why he didn’t drink, it always messes him up. He turns over to his other side hoping it would be better, but no dice. He finally rolls over on his back and accepts his insomniatic fate.
Laying there in the silence, he’s able to fully think over the events of the day. He’d woken up alone and drunk, sure that he was going to die in the overwhelming expanse of space without even knowing his middle name. But in a strange turn of events went to sleep as part of a pair. Commander Y/f/n Y/l/n. From what he learned so far she is resolute, quick to annoy, and a natural leader. Plus, she knows what the fudge is going on which makes her even better. He’d been confused earlier when he’d learned her name, it is the same one written on the whiteboard upstairs, the same one that has been lingering in the back of his brain since waking up. It couldn’t be a coincidence. He wishes his stupid brain would help him out for once. Honestly, Ryland's brain is having a hard time deciphering his relationship with the commander. He isn’t going to delude himself and say his feelings now are strictly platonic. But what were they? She is clearly comfortable enough to laugh at him, but at the same time there were moments he felt like there was something more.
Frustrated, Ryland turns to look in her direction, but finds only empty sheets. His heart rate picks up. Calm down, she probably just went to the bathroom. This momentarily calms him, she should be back soon. But one minute turns to two, which turns to five, which eventually turns to ten (yes, he counted) that she’s been gone. He finally can’t take it anymore.
Ryland gets up, careful not to topple over like earlier. Where could she have gone? Is she in trouble? He glances around for his missing crewmate. Nothing besides some rumpled bedding. His brain sends a thought to the forefront of his mind that makes him shiver. No… No no no no no. He couldn’t have. Did he… Make her up? Did Ryland’s brain in some sad attempt to self-soothe make up that the previously dead commander of the Hail Mary woke up and was here to save him? Ryland places a hand on the wall and feels like he’s going to be sick, and with the hangover starting to really take hold of him there’s an increasing likelihood he actually will be sick. Ryland lurches toward the ladder. No, this couldn’t be happening.
He climbs upwards toward the cockpit, wracking his brain to find even the smallest of reasons to believe the commander is truly alive. Did she leave anything tangible anywhere? Write anything on any of the whiteboards? Ryland stops a few rungs above the lower lab area platform to focus on not hyperventilating. He’s shaking at this point, body in overdrive. He’s alone, he’s really here all alone. His chances of anything other than a worthless death have completely vanished. Humanity’s last-ditch effort is an abject failure dressed in a Cats: The Musical shirt and sweats. The room starts to feel as if it's rapidly closing in on him.
“Ry?” A quiet voice calls into the dark.
Ryland freezes in place, thoughts halting.
“Over here.” The voice says again, “You ok?”
Ryland squints, following where the noise came from. Relief floods his nervous system. Sitting in the lower lab at the observation window on the far wall is the commander. He’d been in such a frenzy that he’d nearly blown right past. He just stares at her through the dim light. There she is, she is real.
“Come.” She beckons him, “Sit with me.” And who is he to say no.
In the dim light he finds her resting in the window nook, an empty cup by her side. Her lower half is covered by a multicolored quilt Ryland hasn’t seen before, but it's covered with a plethora of different images. He slides down across from her, wiping his damp eyes and saying nothing. They’re close enough that if he wanted to he could reach and touch her, and she the same. She immediately drapes the quilt over his own legs once he’s seemingly comfortable. He looks up and notices she’s wearing the floral silk robe he had on earlier and has a wired headphone stuck in one ear that seems to be connected to a small portable CD player at her side. She follows his gaze and, without asking, offers him the other. With a trembling hand, Ryland takes it and places the earbud in his ear. His shoulders tense. Violins, trumpets, drums, you name it, are all playing so frantically that he’s not sure if his already-pounding head can take it. He must have shot her a look because she grabs the CD player and pauses the music. Cool quiet fills the space again.
“Sorry,” She whispers, “I should’ve turned that down. Just give me one second.” And clicks the CD player a couple of times.
When the music begins again, it's already so much better. Still classical music, but calmer than before. His shoulders relax the slightest bit. She nudges his leg with her own and Ryland glances up. She looks back at him expectantly, and he gives a slight nod. Yes, this is good. She smiles and turns to the window, looking out at the expanse of stars. Ryland follows her lead, looking at the cosmos before him. The sheer number of stars visible gives him goosebumps. Before she’d woken up, he’d been intentionally ignoring the windows, the dread that filled him upon his initial look not forgotten in the slightest. Though now with someone else, it doesn’t feel as bad. Immensely scary, sure, but undeniably beautiful.
The song continues on its dreamy tune and Ryland’s focus is pulled back to the woman in front of him. She is leaning back against one of the windows continuing to stare out, seemingly in her own world. From where he’s sitting she seems to glow, haloed by the stars behind her. It takes his breath away. Ryland has to fight the urge to reach out and touch her. He convinces himself that it’s because he needs to make sure she is 100% real, to make sure he’s not dreaming. He must have been staring too long because she angles her head in his direction and flits her gaze over to his. Her eyes reflect starlight.
“What song is this?” He blurts out before he can stop himself. She smiles.
“Venus from Holst’s suite, The Planets. Thought it was appropriate.” She replies softly before looking back out the window. Ryland follows suit. They sit there for a long while, the song playing on until the very end. When the last of the strings finally fade out, his partner hits the pause button.
“Alright, want to tell me what happened?” She asks, facing him and taking the headphone out of her ear. Ryland follows suit.
“I-I woke up earlier and… And you were gone.” He stutters out, face starting to heat up. It sounds so silly when put like that.
His partner does not laugh or poke fun though. Merely tilts her head before responding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“It’s ok.” Ryland responds immediately, “It’s been a crazy day, I should’ve known you needed some time to process everything.”
She sighs deeply and turns back to the window before replying, “Yes, something like that.” And then after a moment, “We should do something with them tomorrow.”
Ryland’s brows raise at this, “Tomorrow? You don’t want to-”
“No.” She replies firmly, “Tomorrow.”
Ryland nods, not knowing how to respond. He reaches out to touch her, and rubs her calf in what he hopes is a soothing manner. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes find their way back to him and display confusion, halting his motion. “What are you apologizing for?”
“Just for,” He starts, “Not remembering everything. I wish I could be more of a help to you, and like, actually be there for you.”
Her eyes soften at his words, “You already are, more than you know.” The words seem to hang in the air as they sit there, Ryland’s hand still lightly resting on her leg. That is, until his partner starts to fidget with the end of her braid and breaks the silence, voice a bit louder than before, “Is there anything I can do for you? To help you remember. Anything I can answer for you?”
“Um-” Ryland’s mind is void of questions, focusing on the way her knee is now resting against his own, rather than any kind of cognitive function, “What are we?” His face immediately goes beet red, “I mean- How do we know each other?” He may as well go walk out the airlock. He seriously asked What are we???
His stupidity is rewarded with a soft laugh from the commander. A slight pink hue tinges her cheeks that Ryland can't pull his eyes away from. “Well, we met because of the Hail Mary Mission obviously, but it’s a bit of a funny story.” She sees to hesitate for a second, “The first time we met, you actually spilled your coffee on me.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Ryland reflexively groans, covering his face with his hands. He thought his actions now were bad, past him was a whole different kind of mess.
“Nope.” You reply with a light laugh, “It was the flight crew’s first time on the aircraft carrier where we were staying at the time, and Stratt wanted to introduce us to some key players for the mission. I was walking with my crew on the way to your office, and you turned the corner just at the right time that we collided. You, of course, were extremely apologetic but for a couple of weeks after we sort of avoided one another, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
Ryland is beyond embarrassed by his past behavior, but ultimately isn’t surprised.
Clearly sensing his changing mood, she continues on, “We got over it quickly though. As commander, I made it my business to know the basics of my other crew members' specialties in case anything came up, so I ended up guilt-tripping you into letting me sit in on your lessons, and the rest is history, I guess. By launch, I pretty much considered you my best friend.” Ryland's sure it's just a trick of the light, but her eyes seem to sparkle as she tells him.
He didn’t know how to respond. An admittedly not small part of him is disappointed there was no mention of romance between the two of you. But also, he is confused by how you talk about him, as if he weren’t a part of the crew. He starts to open his mouth to ask, but ends up letting out a big yawn, causing his commander to do the same. It seems to pop whatever spell that had kept both of you there.
“Seems like we should go back to bed. I can answer anything else in the morning.” You said, quickly grabbing your things. Before Ryland can fully react, you start off down the hall without him, only stopping for a moment to turn and call over your shoulder.
His leg burns cold where yours had just been, and he aches to stay in whatever this was a little while longer. Where nothing matters except for the woman in front of him. But nonetheless, Ryland gets up and follows. His questions would have to wait.
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Hey everyone, here's another chapter! I had intended to post it last week, but I went on a bit of a sabbatical and didn't write at all lol. Not only that but most of my time has been spent on phmtwt, so currently coltlandgentry is taking over my brain to the point where I'm debating on making it part of Grace's backstory in this. We shall see haha. As for the story itself, the translations for the phrases Ilyukhina speaks in the flashback are
Cестричка - Little Sister
Поехали - Let's Go!
I am by no means a Russian speaker, so if it's a little funky in context, I apologize. Here is also the list of songs for this chapter:
Starman
Vienna
Unwritten
Venus
I've had so much fun writing these two chapters, and I'll be back with more soon. Thanks for sticking with me!
-Ash♡
tangentwithtanner
izzy806
kianamaiart
gummygunk
baratheonpilled
romaincrisis
