UNBELIEVABLE ✶ ADRIAN CHASE
summary adrian realises that he he has a crush on his new friend so he starts to avoid you in hopes of dwindling his feeling — only to hurt yours in the process
tags/warnings second person pov, she/her pronouns when characters refer to reader, duel pov, mentions of sex, vulgar language, slight jealous!adrian, slight stalker!adrian, absolutely down bad horrendous!adrian, reader is said to be 19 so age gap (adrian’s canon age is 31 and it is mentioned but it’s not a massive part of the story), miscommunication trope, light angst with happy ending, 7k words, lmk if i missed anything
authors note i love him so much he’s so so pretty also first time writing for him so i hope i did him justice 🫶🫶
ADRIAN HAD FIRST MET YOU when you came into Fennel Fields a few months back. It was about three weeks after Project Butterfly, when everything was slowly getting back to normal (at least for Adrian — the others were still all in awful places, he had to admit).
You walked through the door as though an angel had blessed you with a little halo glow of sunshine around your head. The late afternoon light streamed through the windows, catching dust particles in the air and illuminating your face in a way that made Adrian pause mid-wipe of a nearby table.
You were luckily alone but since Adrian was just a busboy, he couldn't exactly strike up a conversation with you as easily as one of the waiters could or as one of them was. The hierarchy of restaurant staff was unspoken but busboys weren't exactly encouraged to chat up customers, no matter how captivating they might be.
Devin — god, even his name was stupid, just as much as his stupid dumb face, Adrian thought as he watched his coworker try to sweet-talk you. Devin had been working at Fennel Fields for nearly two years now, much less time than Adrian, and somehow he still managed to make Adrian's skin crawl every single day with his fake charm and recycled lines that he used on any remotely attractive customer.
While Adrian didn't really pick up on social cues much (if ever), he did know the look of someone being uncomfortable, as he'd had that face directed towards him more than once — even if he usually ignored it to continue blabbering on. It was a look he'd become intimately familiar with throughout his life: the slight tightening around the eyes, the forced smile, the subtle leaning away that most people didn't even realise they were doing.
But this isn't him. This is a pretty girl uncomfortable because of his stupid, idiot, dumb coworker Devin. So Adrian left his cleaning supplies on a random surface before walking over to your table. He didn't even think about what he was doing — his feet were already moving before his brain had fully registered the decision, rag still clutched tightly in his left hand.
"Hey Devin," he greeted with a large smile, trying to ignore his heart blooming at the sight of you relaxing at the sight of him of all people. The way your shoulders visibly lowered and your expression softened made something warm spread through his chest.
Devin, the stupid, idiot, dumb nincompoop, looked over at him with furrowed brows. They didn't talk much — to be honest, not many people who worked at Fennel Fields talked to Adrian—so it was weird for Adrian to be talking to him now. The surprise was evident in the way Devin's eyebrows shot up and his mouth twitched downward before settling into a forced smile. "..Uh, hey man," Devin greeted, his own smile strained. "I'm with a customer right now though, so can we talk later or...?"
"No, you aren't with a customer because I already gave you my order. You just weren't leaving yet," you spoke up, making Adrian's smile even larger.
"Right, well that's good. So you should leave then, right?" Adrian asked the stupid, idiot, dumb, nincompoop, dipstick man.
Devin sighed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever, your loss anyway," he said as he walked away. His shoes squeaked slightly against the polished floor as he retreated.
"What loss?" you asked, making him glance at you. "You're a 30-something year old who still works minimum wage and is barely 5'6... I could find a better looking man outside on the street."
Adrian let out a shocked laugh, already deciding that you're his favorite person second to Chris. The sound burst from him unexpectedly, loud enough that a few nearby customers turned to look. "Fucking bitch," Devin muttered before walking away. His face had turned an interesting shade of red that crept up from his collar to the roots of his hair.
"That was so fucking funny," Adrian said, sliding into the booth across from you. A large smile spread across his face, revealing a dimple in his left cheek. "I've never seen Devin turn that red before. His face was glowing like a stoplight. Usually when he gets rejected, he just sulks away and masturbates in the freezer."
You tried to hide your shocked expression — partly at the fact that the busboy was apparently sitting with you now without invitation, and partly because an employee supposedly pleasured himself in an area where some of their food was stored. Your eyebrows raised involuntarily as you processed this information. "Right..." you nodded slowly, unsure of how else to respond to such an unexpected revelation.
Adrian nodded too, seemingly pleased with the interaction. Despite the awkward silence, he appeared completely oblivious. His eyes remained bright and focused on you, as if this conversation were perfectly normal.
"Would you want to be my friend?" Adrian asked suddenly with a hopeful expression, like a child asking for a new playmate on the first day of school.
"Uh.. hmm.. uhm.." you stuttered, caught off guard by his directness. The words tangled in your throat as you tried to formulate a response that wouldn't be cruel but also wouldn't encourage this strange interaction.
"It's not like I don't have friends — I have several actually — I just think you're super cool and incredibly interesting," he explained, words rushing out like water from a broken dam. "My mum says I need to expand my social circle. She worries about me being too isolated," he added with a casual shrug.
"Uhh..." you sighed, searching for a redirect. "You still live with your mum?" you asked after a moment, still unsure how to address the friendship question.
"Yeah," he nodded without embarrassment. "It's not weird though. Some people think it is, but statistically speaking, almost 80% of adult males live with their mum. It's becoming more common with the economy these days. Plus, she makes incredible lasagna every Thursday."
"You said that percentage with so much confidence but I really doubt that's true," you replied, a small smile creeping onto your face despite your best efforts. There was something oddly charming about his complete lack of self-consciousness.
"Do you still live with your parents?" he asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. His elbows rested on the table as he gave you his undivided attention.
"Uh no, I moved out after school," you told him, somewhat proud despite yourself. "Got my own place not too far from here, actually. And I haven’t done any grocery shopping yet hence why I am here."
"Right... when was that exactly? You finishing school, I mean." He pressed, his head tilted slightly like an inquisitive puppy.
"Last year," you answered, unconsciously fidgeting with your napkin. The paper crumpled between your fingers as you wondered why you were continuing this bizarre conversation.
"Fuck," he muttered, looking genuinely impressed. "You are so much cooler than I was at 19," he said with unmistakable admiration. "That is if you finished school at 18. If you didn't, that's completely fine too. I know some people repeat years, which sucks but is totally normal. I wasn't one of those people, but sometimes others are for various legitimate reasons. Not that I think you're dumb, you're probably really smart based on how you handled Devin," he rambled without pausing for breath.
You let out a small giggle which made him stop mid-sentence, as if someone had pressed a mute button. His eyes widened slightly at your laughter. "Uh... sorry," he apologised, looking down briefly.
"Y/N," you told him, deciding to take pity on this strange but somehow endearing person.
"What?" he asked, confusion evident in his furrowed brow and tilted head.
"That's my name," you clarified, offering a small but genuine smile.
"I'm Adrian," he replied, pointing at the slightly crooked name tag pinned to his shirt with evident pride.
"Nice to meet you, Adrian," you said, surprising yourself with how much you meant it. "And yes, we can be friends," you added, making a decision that felt simultaneously ridiculous and completely right.
Adrian has been friends with you for a few months now and it's been the best few months of his life. Every day spent with you brings a new adventure, a new laugh, or a random conversation that leaves him feeling genuinely happy. You've officially moved up to best friend number one ranking, which he's apologised to Chris for multiple times (even though Chris doesn't care and has repeatedly told Adrian it's fine). You even know that he's Vigilante which wasn't hard to figure out considering how Adrian acted when you brought up the masked hero, immediately becoming flustered and changing the subject in the most obvious way possible.
Adrian and the rest of the 11th street kids (minus Economos who was busy with his job at ARGUS and hadn't been able to get away for weeks) were out for brunch at a diner downtown. They hadn't seen each other in quite a while, and Adrian had been especially busy with his new best friend. He wasn't even talking to them much, opting to spend most of his credits talking on the phone to you.
"I feel like I haven't seen you all in so long," Adebayo said, giving Harcourt a small side hug before sitting down next to her and across from Adrian and Chris, settling into the worn leather booth with a contented sigh.
"I saw you last week?" Chris said confused, his eyes glancing over the laminated menu filled with greasy breakfast options and overpriced coffee.
"I meant like all together," Adebayo corrected herself, adjusting her position in the booth. "Except Economos obviously. God, when is ARGUS gonna stop fucking him over and let him come home for a few days at least? It's been almost a month since we've all seen him."
"My friend said that-" Adrian began to speak up enthusiastically before being cut off by Chris, who rolled his eyes dramatically.
"Oh my god, I cannot hear anymore about your fake friend, Y/N. If I have to listen to one more story about this person, I'm going to lose my mind."
"Y/N isn't fake," Adrian replied, utterly offended, his face falling into a hurt expression that made him look like a kicked puppy.
"Who's Y/N?" Harcourt asked, speaking up for the first time since she exchanged a bland 'hey,' her curiosity finally piqued enough to join the conversation.
"Y/N is my best friend and-" Adrian started excitedly, ready to launch into a detailed explanation.
"I thought Chris was your best friend?" Leota asked, raising an eyebrow as she sipped her water.
"He was until I met Y/N," Adrian responded without hesitation, not noticing the slight grimace on Chris's face.
"And when did you meet this person?" Leota pressed, leaning forward.
"He met her a few months ago and has been apparently spending every waking hour with her," Chris replied before Adrian could answer.
"Why are you saying it like that?" Harcourt asked.
"Chris here doesn't think she exists," Adrian told her, giving Chris a small glare that held more hurt than anger. "Even though she does. And she is real! She's absolutely real and amazing!"
"Man, I just think that how you describe her is so fucking-" Chris tried to think of a word but couldn't find one that properly captured his disbelief. "Just so not true! Nobody is that perfect!"
"She is real!" Adrian said angrily, his voice rising slightly as his hands gestured emphatically.
"Okay, show me a photo then," Chris asked, making Adrian pause slightly, caught off guard "Show me a single chat from her. Show me something that proves her existence! Just one piece of evidence, Adrian."
"Well, I mean, we don't usually like... I mean, I don't really take photos with her and the messages are private and stuff and-" Adrian floundered, struggling to find a coherent explanation as his words tumbled out awkwardly.
"See!" Chris exclaimed triumphantly, looking towards Adebayo and Harcourt with a vindicated expression
"Yeah, Adrian, you aren't exactly helping your case," Adebayo told him with an apologetic expression, trying to soften the blow with a sympathetic smile.
"She exists!" Adrian defended passionately. "And I hang out with her all the time and she's super cool and cooler than any of you! No offense, but it's true."
"No one is cooler than me," Chris replied with absolute confidence, sitting up straighter in his seat.
"Well, Y/N is so..." Adrian sucked his teeth, trailing off as if the comparison was so obvious it didn't need explanation.
"Jeez guys, it seems like this Y/N has really driven a wedge in your friendship," Harcourt said sarcastically, which went over both of their heads completely as they continued their back-and-forth.
"She wouldn't if Chris actually believed that she existed," Adrian replied with a small eye roll, crossing his arms defensively across his chest.
"Tell me about her, Adrian," Adebayo asked politely, trying to defuse the tension.
"Well, she's super pretty and funny, and I met her a few months ago while working. She's just finished high school and is having a gap year-" Adrian began listing enthusiastically, his face lighting up immediately.
"She just finished high school?" Chris exclaimed. "You didn't tell me that! That's a pretty important detail!"
"You don't ask nor do you listen when I do talk about her," Adrian replied defensively, his tone making it clear this was a long-standing issue between them.
"So you're telling me you're friends with a fresh 18-year-old? Adrian, you're like 30!" Adebayo said, unable to hide her shock as she put down her menu to stare at him.
"She's 19 actually. And she lives alone. And she's quite mature. And it's not like anything is happening. we're just friends!" Adrian insisted, his voice getting higher with each justification he offered.
"Yeah, the way you describe her sounds like she's just a friend, Adrian," Harcourt said, exchanging knowing glances with Adebayo next to her.
"I know," Adrian replied with an awkward laugh, not understanding the tone she used or the implication behind her words.
"Adrian, are you sure you don't have like a crush on this girl?" Leota asked gently, trying to help him realise what seemed obvious to everyone else at the table.
"The make-believe girl," Chris butted in, unable to resist one more jab.
"No, I don't like Y/N," Adrian said firmly. "Now, as much as I enjoy talking about her, could we move on? I don't know what's happening with some of you, and I would like to."
Adrian couldn't get the thought out of his head — it nagged at him persistently like an itch he couldn't quite reach, replaying in his mind with increasing frequency as the hours passed.
He was currently at home, sprawled across his couch a few days after meeting up with the gang, and he couldn't forget how Leota had so casually suggested he might have a crush on you. The words had lodged themselves in his brain, refusing to budge no matter how much he tried to distract himself with TV shows, vigilante duties, or even reorganising his sock drawer twice.
Sure, he thought you were pretty, gorgeous even. Model-level, magazine-worthy, dream-girl pretty with the kind of smile that made his heart skip a beat and features he could probably sketch from memory at this point even though he’s not the best drawwr. But that doesn't mean he likes you romantically, right? Friends can appreciate each other's appearance without it meaning anything deeper. He was just being observant, that's all.
But he does like spending time with you. And he definitely enjoys talking to you — the way conversations flow effortlessly between you two, how you seem to understand his sense of humor, and how he finds himself smiling for hours after hanging up the phone. And does it matter if he's rubbed one out when thinking about you once (or several) times? That's just biology, isn't it? That doesn't mean he has a crush. Plenty of people fantasise about friends they find attractive without it meaning anything significant.
So he did what any sane person with an unanswerable question would do: he went to Google.
How to tell if you have a crush on someone? he searched, immediately feeling silly (and slightly anxious) as he hit enter.
You think about them constantly.
"Yeah, but who doesn't think about their friends," Adrian muttered to himself.
You prioritise spending time with them.
He guessed he had been spending more time with you recently compared to his other friends, canceling plans occasionally and rearranging his vigilante schedule to fit around your availability, but who doesn't spend a lot of time with a new best friend? That's just how friendships work in the beginning — intense and all-consuming before they settle into something more balanced.
You want to keep learning about them
"Well, I want to learn about everyone, so..." he trailed off as he continued to scroll through the search results, though he had to admit he'd never spent three hours asking Chris about his childhood pets or favorite elementary school teachers.
You feel overly excited or nervous around them
Adrian sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as the realisation slowly dawned on him. Well, this is shitty, he thought.
He was now maybe 82% sure that he had a crush on you. the butterflies when you texted, the way he rehearsed what to say before calling, how he noticed the little details about you that no one else seemed to catch. God... at least if he didn't know, he could've acted semi-normal, could have continued in blissful ignorance, but now that he knew, what should he do?
He couldn't tell you. That was an immediate no — you might not like him back and never talk to him again. The thought of losing your friendship made his stomach twist uncomfortably. What if you thought he was weird or creepy? What if you laughed? What if it made things awkward and the easy comfort between you disappeared forever?
He couldn't act normal around you either. He tended to be obvious about his feelings sometimes, wearing his heart on his sleeve despite his best efforts to play it cool. Like when he was pissed off, he acted alright, but people close to him (read: everyone) could tell something was wrong . He doubted you would be the exception, especially with how much time he'd been spending with you recently and how attentive you were to his moods and expressions.
Suddenly his phone went off with that special ringtone he'd set just for you (She Wolf by Shakira) and he glanced toward it, smiling involuntarily at the sight of your name lighting up his screen. He went to pick up but paused at the last second, his newly discovered feelings making him hesitate.
Maybe he should avoid you for a little while. Just long enough to get his head straight, to let these confusing emotions settle. The feelings would die down eventually if he gave them space, and everything would go back to normal. That's how crushes worked, right?
So for the first time ever, he let your call go to voicemail, staring at the screen until it went dark, already feeling a pang of regret with the decision he was making.
It's been what feels like an eternity — nearly three weeks to be exact — since you've last seen Adrian, and you're completely baffled as to why. Not only has he been systematically avoiding your calls, but he's also left your increasingly worried text messages on read without so much as a thumbs-up emoji in response. His complete radio silence has evolved from puzzling to concerning to downright frustrating.
After exhausting all digital means of communication, you finally decided to take matters into your own hands and showed up at Fennel Fields, hoping to corner him during his shift. But instead of finding Adrian there with his characteristic cheerful smile, you were greeted by his coworker (former busboy, now manager, former friend to Adrian, now asshole) Taylor who said that Adrian had been calling in sick for the past few days.
You let out a long, frustrated groan as you push through the restaurant's doors and step out into the chilly afternoon air. That was your absolute last hope, your final desperate attempt at reconnecting with someone who, just weeks ago, had been an massive part of your daily life. The bitter feeling of disappointment lingers in your stomach as you realise you've officially hit a dead end.
You don't even know where Adrian lives! Most of your hangouts have been at your place, with Adrian always saying that he "didn't want his mum interrupting" your time together. Unless fate somehow orchestrates a chance encounter on the streets, you're painfully aware that you probably won't see him again until he decides to reach out to you — that is if he ever does.
God fuck the modern era with its obsession with privacy and data protection. Why did they have to discontinue those bulky, convenient phone books that just showcased everyone's personal information for anyone curious enough to flip through the pages? In moments like these, those invasive directories suddenly seem like a brilliant invention rather than the privacy nightmare they actually were.
In a small gesture of frustration that does absolutely nothing to alleviate your growing sense of abandonment, you kick a loose rock on the ground, watching it skitter across the pavement before walking with heavy steps towards your car. You slide into the driver's seat with a defeated sigh, completely unaware that a pair of familiar green eyes are intently watching your every move from behind the concealment of a vigilante mask, just a few dozen feet away.
Adrian didn't actually want to avoid you — quite the opposite. Every fiber of his being ached to answer your calls, to read and respond to your messages, to show up at your door with some ridiculous excuse just to see your face again. But he genuinely thought it was the best strategy to diminish his growing feelings for you (which, ironically, haven't dwindled at all— in fact, he's become even more smitten with you during this self-imposed separation, a reality he stubbornly refuses to acknowledge because he's convinced his avoidance theory is working perfectly, despite all evidence to the contrary).
He has to admit, though, if he's being completely honest with himself, that he hasn't actually been fully avoiding you. His overwhelming need to ensure your safety led him to implement what he convinced himself was the "most sane thing" under the circumstances — which turned out to be... well... slightly... kind of... following you around whenever he could manage it between his shifts and vigilante duties.
It's really not as creepy or concerning as it might initially sound though! His intentions are purely protective in nature, born from genuine concern for your well-being rather than any nefarious purpose. And it's definitely not like he's peering through your windows or engaging in anything that could reasonably be classified as true stalker behavior (there was just that one mortifying incident where he accidentally caught a glimpse of you naked through an uncurtained window, but he immediately averted his eyes with such force he nearly gave himself whiplash!).
Once your car pulls out of the parking lot and disappears down the street, he kicks a nearby rock as well, unconsciously mirroring your earlier gesture of frustration. He stands there for several long moments, the internal battle raging within him almost visible in his conflicted expression. He desperately wants to call you back, to hear your voice again, to explain everything and hope you'll understand. But the fear of rejection has its claws buried too deeply in his heart— he's absolutely convinced that if he confessed his romantic feelings, you would be disgusted or uncomfortable, and he would lose you forever. So in his mind, the logical solution is to simply... never talk to you again, effectively guaranteeing the very outcome he's trying to avoid. Which, when articulated even in the privacy of his own thoughts, sounds ridiculous, but no one has ever particularly prided Adrian on being the sharpest strategic thinker
After nearly a week of Adrian continuing his peculiar pattern of deliberately avoiding you while simultaneously appointing himself as your unofficial, invisible guardian angel, fate finally orchestrated an unexpected encounter between the two of you. The universe, perhaps tired of this ridiculous charade, decided to intervene in the most mundane of settings.
You were working your way through your Tuesday morning grocery shopping when you and a tall stranger simultaneously reached for the same package of organic pasta on the shelf. Your hands almost brushed against each other in that classic meet-cute scenario that romcoms have idealised for decades.
"Sorry, you go ahead," you offered with a genuine smile, your eyes quickly but appreciatively taking in his appearance (because honestly, who wouldn't notice someone so attractive wandering the aisles at 8AM on a Tuesday, a time usually reserved for people with high anxiety and night shift workers).
"No, no. What kind of man would I be to take from a woman?" he responded with a warm, slightly teasing smile that indicated he was making a lighthearted joke rather than being condescending. "Please, you take it. I insist."
"Thank you," you replied, accepting both the pasta and the friendly gesture with a smile that reached your eyes.
"Your smile is really pretty," he commented after a moment of comfortable silence where you both seemed to be studying each other's features, neither in a rush to end the unexpected pleasant interaction.
"Oh, thanks. That's really sweet of you to say," you responded, glancing down momentarily as a slight blush on your cheeks, not used to receiving such straightforward compliments from handsome strangers in the pasta aisle.
Meanwhile, Adrian was positioned at the far end of the aisle, partially concealed behind a promotional display of cereal boxes. His face bore an expression that could only be described as a mixture of jealousy, betrayal, and something akin to heartbreak as he observed your interaction with this unknown man. The deep frown etched onto his features grew more pronounced with each passing second of your conversation.
He had mentally prepared himself for the consequences of his self-imposed exile from your life, understanding logically that distancing himself would inevitably create space for new people to enter your world. However, there was a vast difference between acknowledging this possibility in theory and actually witnessing it unfold before his eyes. Nothing had prepared him for the sharp sting of seeing you potentially connecting with someone else especially not someone who appeared to be a 6' foot something black-haired Adonis who looked like he stepped straight out of a men's fitness magazine.
So Adrian, demonstrating the impulsive decision-making skills that had gotten him into countless precarious situations as Vigilante, did what was arguably the stupidest, most counterproductive thing possible under the circumstances.
"Y/N?" He called out with artificial enthusiasm, plastering an excessively bright grin on his face as he abandoned his hiding spot and strode purposefully toward you. "I haven't seen you in forever! What a coincidence running into you here!"
Your expression immediately transformed from pleasant surprise to unmistakable confusion, quickly followed by a flash of hurt that you attempted to mask. "Uh, hey Adrian. How are you... been," you replied, your words coming out awkwardly as you tried to process this sudden reappearance after weeks of silence. "Uhm, sorry," you quickly apologized to the attractive stranger, attempting to salvage some semblance of social grace amid this uncomfortable interruption. "This is my old friend Adrian."
"Right, right. Yeah, well, I've got to go," the man said, clearly sensing the unexpected tension that had materialized in the previously relaxed atmosphere. "But hopefully I'll see you around sometime?" he asked with cautious optimism, his eyes still focused on you.
"You won't," Adrian blurted out defensively at the exact moment you said, "Yeah, that sounds good."
You watched in mortified silence as the handsome stranger awkwardly retreated down the aisle, casting one last confused glance over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner. The moment he was out of sight, you turned to Adrian with fury blazing in your eyes, your previous hurt rapidly crystallising into righteous anger. "What the hell was that?" you demanded, your voice low but unmistakably furious.
"What?" Adrian responded with an unconvincing performance of bewilderment — a performance that fell utterly flat because you'd spent enough time with him to recognise his genuine confused voice, and this certainly wasn't it.
"That! You!" You emphatically pointed an accusatory finger at his chest, both of you instinctively stepping aside as an elderly woman attempted to reach past for something on the shelf. "Sorry. You completely ghost me for weeks— no calls, no texts, nothing — and then you suddenly materialise out of nowhere and deliberately scare off a perfectly nice guy I was talking to? What is your deal, Adrian? Seriously, what kind of twisted game are you playing here?"
"I haven't been avoiding you," Adrian protested weakly, his eyes darting anywhere but meeting your intense gaze. "I've just been really busy lately. You know how it is."
"Oh yeah, sure. With what? More vigilan-" you began to say without thinking, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, but Adrian lunged forward with surprising speed and covered your mouth with his hand, his eyes wide with panic as he frantically scanned the surrounding area to ensure no one had overheard.
After a few tense moments of silent paranoia, he slowly removed his hand from your mouth, looking genuinely apologetic for the physical intrusion into your personal space.
"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to- No, wait, why am I apologising to you right now? Fuck! Your fucking Adrian Vortex shit is fucking-" You interrupted your own increasingly incoherent tirade with a deep, frustrated groan that seemed to emanate from the very depths of your soul.
"Look, I was genuinely just busy," he insisted, doubling down on his transparent lie despite the fact that his eyes couldn't meet yours and his entire body language screamed deception.
"You know what? Fuck you if you aren't going to be honest with me," you muttered, the hurt beneath your anger becoming more evident as your voice wavered slightly. Without another word, you brushed past him with force, shoving your half-filled shopping basket into his unprepared hands. You stormed out of the store, already calculating the route to the grocery store 40 minutes south — a ridiculous distance to travel just for groceries, but at that moment, you would have happily driven twice as far just to put some physical distance between yourself and Adrian's infuriating, confusing presence.
While you were at the other store shopping, your phone couldn't seem to stop buzzing with an incessant stream of messages and calls from Adrian. The constant notifications only served to intensify your frustration. How ironic that he could suddenly find all this time and energy to contact you now, after completely ghosting you for weeks. The stark contrast between his current desperation to reach you and his previous radio silence felt almost insulting.
You felt sad, plain and simple. A profound, weighty sadness that settled in your chest and made each breath feel slightly more laborious than it should. Despite the overwhelming temptation to check his messages — you kept them unread.
Once you finally arrived home, you unpacked your groceries, though the task provided little distraction from the thoughts swirling in your mind. After the last item was stored away, you trudged to your bedroom and collapsed onto your mattress, the emotional exhaustion of the day finally catching up with you. The question that had been plaguing you for weeks resurfaced with renewed intensity: why had Adrian suddenly stopped talking to you without any explanation?
Did you do something wrong? Did you say something offensive without realising it? Did you somehow cross an invisible boundary? Or perhaps the explanation was simpler and more painful maybe you just weren't interesting enough to hold his attention. Maybe the friendship that meant so much to you was merely a temporary amusement for him.
You exhaled deeply and rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling for several long moments before reluctantly reaching for your phone. Your fingers hovered uncertainly over Adrian's messages. After a while, you finally decided to read them — though this decision came after several hours of questioning whether you should even bother.
I mean wouldn't it just be a taste of his own medicine if you ignored his messages? He ignored yours for weeks without explanation or apology. You press the power button, watching as your screen fades to black.
But what if he genuinely wants to apologise? What if there's a reasonable explanation for his behaviour that you haven't considered? You turn your phone back on.
But if he was truly sorry, couldn't he have apologized when you encountered him earlier at the store? He had the perfect opportunity right there. With a frustrated sigh, you place your phone face-down on your nightstand.
But then again, you stormed off pretty quickly. Did you actually give him an opportunity to explain himself? After a moment's hesitation, you retrieve your phone once more.
No! This is ridiculous! If he truly cared about your feelings, he would have chased after you and insisted on explaining. He wouldn't have let you leave in such an upset state. In a sudden burst of emotion, you impulsively launch your phone across the room, landing on the carpet just as another incoming call from Adrian lights up the screen.
You remained frozen for several moments, perched upright on your bed with your legs carefully tucked underneath you. Your eyes remained fixed on your phone as it continued to vibrate against the bedroom floor, Adrian's name flashing persistently on the screen.
You finally released a deep, resigned groan and reluctantly moved across the room to retrieve your device. With a mixture of curiosity, apprehension, and lingering anger, you unlocked your phone and began scrolling through the accumulated messages.
I’ve been dealing with personal stuf
i would tell you but it's personal
please im sorry it was stupid to avoid yoh
i admit it i was avoing you
but again i was just dealing with stuff
i promise i'll be honest from now on
come to this address so i can explain it in person please
i kep making typos and it annoys me
You seriously contemplated responding with a strongly-worded message telling him exactly where he could shove his apologies, but something in his desperate tone made you pause. Despite your better judgment and the rational part of your brain screaming at you to maintain your dignity, curiosity ultimately won out. Before you could fully process your decision, you found yourself grabbing your keys from the hook by the door, hastily shoving your feet into the nearest pair of shoes, and practically sprinting out to your car to drive to the address he'd sent you.
You realised you'd been contemplating his messages for almost the whole day as the sun had already begun to set and turned the sky into a canvas of oranges and purples by the time you finally arrived at the address.
With a deep breath to steady your nerves, you stepped out of your car and slowly made your way up the short pathway towards the front door. Your hand hadn't even formed a fist to knock when the door suddenly swung open with enthusiasm, revealing Adrian standing there with a broad, hopeful smile on his face.
"Welcome to mi casa!" he greeted though his bright expression dimmed slightly when he registered the look on your face.
"Hi, Adrian," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood on his doorstep.
Adrian stared at you for a prolonged moment, his eyes taking in every detail of your appearance. The golden rays of the setting sun filtered through your hair and outlined your silhouette, giving you that same ethereal halo effect he had noticed the first time you met.
"Uh, come in, come in," he said awkwardly, stepping aside and gesturing with a slightly nervous wave of his hand.
You walked into his house, immediately drawn to the collection of framed photographs lining the hallway walls. They showcased Adrian throughout various stages of his childhood, almost always flanked by a woman and man who you assumed must be his mum and dad, though the dad was notably missing in later photos when Adrian was older. Following his lead, you moved deeper into the house, your footsteps echoing slightly on the hardwood floors until you finally entered what appeared to be the dining room.
The scene before you was both touching and slightly melancholic. Several elegant candles were arranged across the table, most of them half-melted, assumably having been burning for hours, and one had completely dissolved into a puddle of wax. A beautiful arrangement of deep red roses sat in a crystal vase at the centre of the table, and on either side waited two plates of what looked to be homemade lasagna.
"I didn't know when you — or if, I guess — were gonna show up, so the lasagna might be a little cold. But I can heat it up in the microwave. And, uh, I got my mum to make her lasagna even though she usually makes it on Thursdays and today's Tuesday. When you tried some last month, you said it was good, so I figured you might like it. And I'm really sorry about avoiding you. I kinda realised I had feelings for you — romantic ones — and I was honestly scared that you would leave me or something. There was this girl I had a crush on when I was about 20, and when I told her, she got really weird around me. I didn't want you to act like that. Not that I think of her when I think of you, because honestly, I regularly just think of you. My brain is usually just focused on my vigilante stuff or you, and I don't mind because I really like you...."
Adrian continued to ramble nervously, his words tumbling out faster and less coherently as he went on. His voice gradually began to fade into the background of your consciousness as you watched him with growing affection. You stared at him with a small, tender smile forming on your lips. It was obvious to you that you harbored strong feelings for Adrian. How could you not? He was consistently sweet and kind in his interactions with you. And he possessed that rare, genuine sense of humor that never failed to brighten your day. And while you had to admit that the guy who flirted with you at the grocery store was undeniably attractive, he was ultimately way too tall and conventionally striking to be what you wanted in an actual boyfriend. You much preferred the comforting presence of Adrian in that role.
"And I hope you know that me doing this or saying all these things doesn't mean you have to date me or anything. Like, I'm absolutely not trying to pressure you or force you into anything you're not comfortable with, but I would really appreciate if we could at least maintain our friendship, even if it will genuinely feel like a stab directly through my heart when you eventually like get a real boyfriend or get married someday, 'cause in my ideal world I would be the one you ultimately end up marrying, you know, but again, it doesn't-" Adrian's increasingly anxious monologue was abruptly cut off when you stepped forward and pressed your lips against his, causing him to let out a small, surprised whine from the back of his throat.
You pulled back slightly after a moment, just enough to look into his wide, stunned eyes. "Are you going to stop rambling now?" you asked with gentle amusement in your voice.
Adrian nodded wordlessly, seemingly unable to form a coherent sentence, before eagerly pulling you into another kiss. His lips moved against yours with a sense of desperation, clearly conveying how long he had wanted this, and he continued chasing after your lips even as you eventually pulled away.
"I would very much still like to eat your mother's famous lasagna, so maybe we can continue this enjoyable activity after dinner instead?" you suggested with a playful smile, making Adrian nod with almost much enthusiasm.
"Yes, absolutely, we can definitely continue this after dinner. We can do that all the time from now on if you want. That would be very, very good... uh, I'll heat up the food." You laughed softly as he hastily grabbed both plates and carried them to the kitchen, carefully placing them in the microwave one after the other.
"I hope you know that this sudden romantic development doesn't mean I completely forgive you for ignoring my messages and calls for several weeks," you told him with a hint of seriousness beneath your teasing tone.
"I can eat you out as an apology," Adrian said without hesitation, before immediately looking mortified at his own boldness. "Sorry, my head is completely woozy from that kiss, which was really, really good by the way, and I haven't really had an actual, proper girlfriend before, so this whole situation is very new to me."
"I'm your girlfriend?" you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.
His smile faltered slightly, uncertainty flashing across his features. "...Yeah? Yes. You are, right? I mean, I was hoping-"
"I like the sound of being a Vigilante's girlfriend," you interrupted reassuringly, watching relief wash over his expression.
"That's good. I like the sound too. Of you being my girlfriend. A lot, actually."
"Good," you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the adorable awkwardness of this new dynamic between you.
The microwave beeped loudly, signaling that the food was finally ready. Adrian grabbed the hot plates with bare hands, trying not to show his discomfort as they slightly burned his fingers. He was honestly just eager to get through dinner as quickly as possible so he could move on to enjoying a dessert he had been yearning for much longer than he cared to admit (you. The dessert was unquestionably you).
