i haven't posted on here in a hot minute lol (i'm not dead i'm still writing just... extremely slowly. other fandoms have claimed me cough call of duty cough cough roleplaying on discord cough) but! i wanted to share this super awesome milestone!!
10K HITS BABYYYY
recently my RE verse series has been getting more traction and readers (no doubt bc requiem which i am SLOWLY getting thru and gotta block the re tag for spoilers sigh) and i just wanted to say a huge thank u for that! as much as i have been slugging w this series recently, i have LOVED writing these fics, building up the relationships in it. i promise things ARE coming soon. just... hold on another half a year lol.
if ur discovering this for the first time... read the series here!
the final chapter! i will now be going on a hiatus as i (slowly) write out the other fics i have planned, so i promise to be back as soon as possible! luv u guys <3
full chapter here !!
A soft, sleepy grumble at my side had me stirring, eyes fluttering open to the sound of birdsong and the winter sun streaming through the blinds. It reflected onto cream coloured walls covered in memories of the last seven years and beyond. Yawning loudly, the sound prolonged for a few seconds, I stretched my arms above me as far as they'd go and wiggled my fingers before turning onto my right side, smiling fondly at the face next to me.
Bright blue eyes bleary with sleep blinked at me, a tiny mouth twisted into a pout as Theo let out another sleepy grumble. His throat sounded scratchy, as evidenced by the cough that seemed to rattle his chest, his nose wrinkling in discomfort that had my mama bear heart aching.
âHey, bubba,â I cooed, pulling him a bit closer even though I knew that he was definitely going to infect me with whatever cold heâd picked up from school. But in the past few years, Iâd gotten used to all kinds of flus. âHow did you sleep?â
âMy head hurts. All hurts,â he whined, burying his face into my chest. He was shivering and shuddering, and after placing a hand to his forehead, I could instantly tell that his fever hadn't broken yet.
âMy poor little baby boy..â I shushed him, stroking a hand through his damp blond curls. He was the spitting image of his dad, with a cherubic face and soft freckles dusting over his cheeks. Born five years ago, the second of our children. The first I could hear laughing in the kitchen downstairs, where I could also smell pancakes wafting up the stairs.
I smirked playfully, kissing the top of my boy's head. âLetâs go see what we can get you downstairs, hm?â
Scooping Theo up into my arms, I carried him downstairs, passing by even more memories. Photos of Leon and I on our wedding day, travelling around the world, and then the kids. I heard familiar music playing downstairsâan old album that I hadn't heard in years, yet its name still sat proudly on my chest.
In the large yet cozy kitchen of our two-storey craftsman home located in the suburbs of Bakersfield, around an hour and a half outside of LA, I saw Leon first. Stood with his back to me, sinewy muscles on display, he effortlessly flipped pancakes whilst his deep, gravelly voice crooned along to one of the more appropriate songs on the âDelightâ album, âTake My Breath Awayâ.
Sat on a nearby stool, a skinny elbow leaning against the mahogany wood counter, was Ella-Lynâor Elle, as we often called herâstaring at Leon with amusement sparkling in her forest-green eyes, eyes that matched my own.
Her long, frizzy brown hair stood up on end, and when she saw me lingering in the doorway, she smiled wide and waved. âMom. Hi.â
Leon glanced around to look at Theo and I then, blue eyes flicking from me to the clingy toddler in my arms. He pouted empathetically. âHey, little man. Still sick?â
Theo nodded, sucking gently on his thumb. He hadn't done that since he was three years old. He mustâve been really hurting.
âHeâs still got his fever. I think I might take him to the doctor today, get him seen to,â I reported, setting him down on the couch before moving back to the kitchen to find the medicine.
âGood shout,â Leon said, returning back to his pancake-flipping. Watching him thrive so well in these last seven years was a treat. Heâd gone from being a famous rockstar to embracing the life of a family man in the blink of an eye, trading sex, drugs and rock nâ roll for diapers, bottles and bedtime stories.
And pancakes every Saturday morning. âLittle man, would you like a pancake?â He asked mischievously, raising a playful eyebrow toward our normally-excitable son.
Theo blinked sleepily over at him, then, after seeing the stack of pancakes on the side, he nodded, a smile growing across his face. It was almost as if he was never sick.
I scoffed, watching him with interest as he headed for the kitchen table. âI swear he was like the dead two minutes ago.â I muttered with a soft laugh.
âThe magic of my pancakes, babe.â Leon grinned, kissing me on the cheek as he brought the towering plate over. Ella-Lyn scrambled off of her stool, settling in a seat next to Theo whilst I slid into the seat opposite.
âTheyâve got healing powers, didn't you know?â
âTheyâve got a ton of sugar, you mean.â I rolled my eyes playfully, watching as the kids piled pancakes onto their plates before grabbing some of my own from the stack. After squirting a bit of syrup and squeezing a drizzle of lemon over the chocolate chip infused pancakes, I dug in.
Okay. Maybe these really were magic. But then again, most of the things that Leon made were completely divine. Heâd come a long way since the microwave meals of old.
âOkay, team.â Leon put down his knife and fork after swallowing a bite, clapping his hands together and rubbing them as a cheesy grin spread across his aged face. He'd gotten a few wrinkles, which lined his forehead and cheeks, and the beginnings of crowâs feet around his bright blue eyes. His hair was starting to grey, too. But, then again, he was in his fifties.
But to me, he would always be that rugged forty-six year old smoking on a rooftop. âWhat are we doing with our Saturday? After Mom and Theo get back from the doctor, of course.â
âHow about a movie day?â I suggested, nodding toward the large TV in the living area that was playing an old episode of âSpongebob Squarepantsâ, left abandoned most likely by Ella-Lyn. âSnuggle under some blankets, maybe build a fort? Make some sâmores?â
âCan we watch your old movies, Mom?â She asked, eyes going wide like a puppy. I knew exactly what movies she was talking about before she even mentioned the franchise. ââCamp Rockâ double feature?â
Ever since that drive-in movie date, Leon and I had been entertaining double features for a good few years. Ever since Ella-Lyn had learned to talk, at least. She may be six, but I had a feeling my Disney Channel movies and shows would be her favourite form of entertainment well into her teens and beyond.
But I didn't mind. At thirty-five, I had grown used to the atrocious acting that came from my fourteen year old self. And if it kept my kids happy, I could stomach a double feature.
âYeah. Why not? They might have even put the third one on Disney by now.â
Iâd retired from singing a few years ago, my spotlight having dimmed since having kids. It was understandable. A momâs body wasn't sexy, and I passed the mic down to a much younger generation. But I was still involved in the industry, helping with songwriting and being a worthwhile ear for those that needed it. To get through the day, I found my passion in acting again, starring in a few movies and TV shows here and there.
Recently, I was called back to star in the third âCamp Rockâ movie, which was brought out twenty-six years after the first. I reprised my starring role of Mitchie Torres, sending my own fictional daughter off to that fictional camp that had skyrocketed me to new heights.
The morning passed relatively smoothly after breakfast. I'd taken Theo to the doctor whilst Leon held down the fort. Literally. Bringing Theo back with the advice of âplenty of rest and fluidsâ, as if I wasn't giving him that already, Leon and Ella-Lyn had transformed the living room into the perfect fort, big enough for everyoneâadults and kids alike.
âSqueezing in,â I teased, crawling into the fort after Theo and I had changed back into our cozy pajamas, which matched Ella-Lyn and Leon in their Christmassy green and red tartan print. âBeep-beep.â
not me realising my last post had a typo for the chapter until today lol anyways WEDDING CHAPTER BABIEEE
full chapter here !!
Waves crashed against the shore as I stood up at the pink rose and baby's breath covered altar, staring out at the setting sun. Vibrant orange and deep red hues painted the sky as the golden ball dipped behind the crystal blue waters, a gentle breeze causing ripples in the waves.
My fingers flexed as my hands remained rigid at my sides, my palms sweaty. But, as nervous as I was, I couldn't wait for this. Iâd been waiting for it since that day I saw her at the show, when Iâd been trying to talk to her. When Iâd confessed my feelings in front of all those people.
I hadnât gotten to finish that speech.
After our âreunionâ, though, Iâd gotten to finish. The morning after, when our limbs were tangled up and the room smelled of us, Iâd crept out of bed and grabbed the ring box from my slacks and slipped the ring on her finger whilst she was still asleep. A beautiful little diamond ring with a silver band, the title of the album he made with me in mindââDelightââengraved on the inside.
âSheâs coming.â I felt a hand press into my arm, turning to see Deeâs mother. Lynette was beautiful today, with her dark hair tied up in an elegantly messy bun, wearing a light orange dress. Stood beside her was Claire, in a similar get-up. She had a smile on her faceâwhich was odd, because Claire never smiled at me, nor the rest of the band for that matter.
But Claire had come around recently to the idea of Dee and I. And our labels had too, paying for this gorgeous little wedding on the beach in Santa Monica. We didn't want anything too extravagant, just our nearest and dearestâand a small gathering of paparazzi to document the affair. Trusted reporters, of course. No more Zane Thomas. Heâd already ruined us once.
I turned, noticing the figure coming down the aisle, lined by rose petals. She wore a classic wedding dressâa big, white, puffy thing that looked ripped straight out of a wedding magazine, and styled fairly similarly to the dress worn by the bride in Guns N' Rosesâs music video for âNovember Rainâ. She even had a veil, lifted back to reveal her dramatic glittering makeup and wide high-beam smile.
And, as she got closer and closer, guided down the aisle by her father, her tears were on full display too, glistening in her dark forest-colored eyes.
My hands shook as I pulled her close, nodding once to her father before we both turned to the vicar. We had a proper vicar this time, not someone impersonating Elvis. Though, he did slick back his salt-and-pepper hair into a classic pompadour and wore sunglasses. And during his speeches, he would slip a little âuh-huhâ in between to make Dee and I giggle, an inside joke neither of us would ever share with the worldâwell, except with Jill and Chris, who sat on the left side of us with a gorgeous little bundle swaddled up in blue, born just a few months ago. Bradley, they called him.
âWith the middle name âLeonâ,â Chris had told me the day the baby was born, as I stared down at this little purple bundle in Jillâs arms and felt my heart swell up in size. âFor one of my greatest friends, and a man we both know is gonna look out for him no matter what. Even if you don't know it yet yourself.â
When I felt a ring being pushed onto my finger, I snapped back to reality.
âWith this ring,â Dee mumbled tearfully, dimples breaking into her cheeks. âI promise to love you, to hold you so tight you might burst, to cherish and adore you, to lift you up when you feel low, and to catch you when you fall. Iâll bring you light, and life, and whatever else you want. With this ring, I am yours.â
I then put the ring on her finger, repeating those same vows, those same promises that led directly into us kissing to seal the deal. Cheers erupted around us, loud whoops and applause that was joined in by the crashing waves that threatened to drag the tide further in.
But we didnât care about the noise, or even the tide. As we pulled back to look at each other, all I cared about in that moment was spending the rest of my life with her. My vice. My virtue. My muse.
two more chapters left of this fic rahhh (imma have to fr lock in and power write over the weekend lol)
full chapter here !!
Panting for breath, I stood on Leonâs stoop. My dress was clinging to me in the most uncomfortable way, the sheer white material almost grey from the rain as the sequins were close to falling off.
After Claire had pulled me away from the show and ushered me into the waiting car, weâd gotten into a fight. Iâd yelled at her for taking me out of there, and sheâd yelled at me about my image. Iâd told her that I didnât care about my image anymore. All I cared about was him. Iâd always cared about him.
Iâd bolted from the car and ran halfway across the city in broken heels and a fancy dress. In the rain. It was like a Hallmark movie.
And then, the moment I got here and knocked on the door, Ada had answered it, wrapped in one of his towels with her hair all wet.
My eyes slid over her, then went to Leon, who was also disheveled. But he was clean. He looked taken care of.
âI can explainââ he blurted out awkwardly, a deep blush in his cheeks.
âYou don't have to. Ada already filled me in.â The two of them hadn't been planning on getting back together, sheâd said. After Iâd left the venue, Leon had fallen hard, so she was bringing him back up. Her and the rest of the band. So Iâd relaxed, thankful that at least I still had a chance. That I hadn't run here for nothing.
âOh.â
âIâll give you two a little privacy,â Ada said with a knowing grin, heading into the bedroom. She came out a few minutes later, dressed in a gorgeous red jumpsuit and fancy black stilettos, handbag hanging from her arm as she strode through the apartment. She touched Leon tenderly on the shoulder before nodding to me.
Neither of us said a word, or even moved, until the door closed behind her. Then Leon spoke up, voice full of disbelief. âYou⌠youâre here?â
âYeah.â I took a single step forward, drawn to him like a magnet. Or a fish baited on a hook, and he was pulling me in. âI⌠I kept thinking about what you said up there. You poured your heart out.â
He grunted softly in agreement, taking his own step forward.
âYou⌠you got clean,â I said, my voice quivering with relief at the gesture. âDid you do that for me?â
He fiddled with his fingers, looking down at the floor as his lips tugged with sheepishness. âWell⌠I kinda⌠fell off the wagon. Sorryââ
âIt's fine.â I shuffled forward. I was close enough now to reach out, to brush a hand against the tiniest sliver of skin. Then, when he stepped forward, I could grab him properly. My hand found his jaw, caressing the stubble there. Remembering the feeling of him.
âItâs okay. We⌠we can get you help. Iâll be here for you.â
âYou will?â His voice broke slightly. He rested his forehead against mine, his hand coming to the back of my neck.
âYeah,â I swallowed thickly, nodding as his fingers brushed the nape of my neck, tickling the tiny baby hairs there. âI⌠I told Claire I didn't care anymore. About my image, my brand, whatever. About what people thought about me, or you. And it was so⌠freeing.â
He laughed softly, brushing his nose against mine. âYou ran all the way here, in that dress, in that storm.â
âClaireâs pissed at me. Sherry will be pissed at me. But⌠but I don't care.â I bit my bottom lip, preparing myself for a speech of my own, the words I had been dying to say since heâd asked me to speak privately back at the show. âI love you. I still do. And.. I want you. I've always wanted you. Youâre in my head, like, all the time. And it gets to the point where it physically pains me when you aren't around, because I got so used to you. My body knows your body. My soul knows your soulââ
He disrupted my speech with a kiss, grabbing my chin and forcing my lips to his. I briefly froze, before I shuddered and melted, hands sinking into his hair as his arms wrapped tight around my waist, pulling me to him.
He pulled back the moment my back hit the edge of the counter, looking down at me with a smirk. âI think thereâs a better way we can show how much we love each other, don't you?â
As Dee was hoisted up and dragged away by her manager, all I could do was watch it play out in slow motion, my heart leaping into my chest as my stomach clenched tightly.
She was gone.
âThank you everyone! Weâll be back!â
Reality soon rushed back in as Chris clapped a hand against my shoulder, squeezing it hard before ushering him off stage. As blood rushed to my ears with a deafening whoosh sound, I felt myself start to itch and shake, fire in my veins as my hands balled into fists, knuckles turning white. The urge to punch somethingâor someoneâwas strong, brimming beneath the surface.
âHey man.â Chris was still here, right at my side. He looked at me warily, brotherly concern within the depths of his light eyes. âLeon, buddyââ
âSheâs gone. Sheâshe didn't fucking hear me outââ
He sighed sympathetically. âI knowââ
âI need a fucking drink.â
I pushed out of Chris's hold, storming through the throng of tables and confused artists as I headed for the bar. With every step I craved the burn of something on my tongue, and as I slammed my fists down against the bar, I scared the crap out of the poor bartender.
âWhiskey,â I growled. âThree fingers. No iceââ
âNo, he won't.â Chris appeared behind me, prompting me to bare my teeth at him like a dog about to bite. He ignored me, trying to pull me away from the bar. âLeon, come on. Weâll get you homeââ
âI don't want to fucking go home,â I snapped, shrugging off his hand. âWe've still got a show to put on, haven't we?â
âNot in the state you're in,â Ada said coolly, arms folded over her chest and a sleek black eyebrow raised in my direction. âI had a word with Conanââ Conan OâBrien, tonight's host. âSaid youâd been feeling ill all day and it was finally catching up. Dante are free to leave.â
âWeâre gonna be causing up a storm with the press now,â Chris grumbled to himself, scrubbing his hands over his face. Then, he seemed to have caught onto the fact I was practically wrestling the bottle of whiskey out of the bartenderâs hand to pour myself a drink, because he sighed and made a move to take the bottle off of me.
âLeon. Give me that, for fuckâsââ
I head butted him hard, stunning both Chris and the bartender enough for me to get the bottle free. Cracking open the lid, I brought it to my lips and guzzled like a madman. The burn was immense, amber liquid sloshing against the glass and stinging in my throat and lungs, forcing me to groan and cough. Why the fuck did I do that?
âOkay, enough. Weâre leaving.â Ada took the lead, ushering all of us out the door like schoolchildren and toward the back entrance.
Once we were outside, the crisp night air cold against my clammy skin, the black mini-van pulled up, its matching tinted windows glowing in the streetlights.
âLuis, get the door.â
Luis did so, rushing in front to grab the handle and slide the door open. I was put into the car first, forced into the middle seat as Chris and Jake took up the other two spots. Chris held his bleeding nose, his head tilted back, whilst Jake was now trying to coax the bottle from my hands. I bared my teeth at him too, my grip vise-like despite how hard I was trembling.
Ada and Luis had seats at the very back. As the driver pulled away and began our journey home, she began her line of questioning, hitting me with the obviousâand literally smacking me upside the head. âFucking idiot. Why the fuck did you just do that? In front of all those people?â
I grumbled, touching a hand to the back of my head before glaring at her. âBecause I did this all for her, isn't that why you guys got me into fucking rehab?â I shouted back. Even though Iâd definitely tumbled off of the wagon now, and was left in an embarrassing heap.
Eh. I took another swig from the bottle, grateful this was a brand new one.
âChrist. This is such a mess.â Ada put her head in her hands. âI thought you were just going to talk to herâsort it out privately, so that we could go through the proper channels and do this rightââ
âShe didn't wanna hear it. I tried, and she walked away.â
The bright bulbs of what felt like a thousand cameras flashed through the tinted windows as the black Range Rover slowed outside of the arena, navigating through the throng of waiting reporters before pulling up to the side. Ethan filed out first, seconded by Claire before finally it was my turn.
Smoothing my hands across the sequined fabric of my full-length A-line dress, Claireâs guiding hand was at my back. âReady?â She asked in a low, anticipatory whisper.
âMm.â I nodded slowly, approaching the red carpet. My dress glided smoothly against my legs as I walked, a soft breeze fluttering through my dark hair as it hung down my back and tickled against my skin through the wide pocket. The bright spots from the cameras burned into my vision as I stood there, soaking up the attention from the press, smiling so wide my cheeks hurt.
âMiss Hartwell! Are you excited to perform tonight?â One called out, microphone thrust high into the air.
âYeah,â I responded with a bashfulâand practicedânod of my head. Iâd put out an album a few months ago, just in time for the award season. A few songs from that were up for nominations tonight, and I also had the first slot for performing. Iâd be performing my new song âSports Carâ, a poppy beat that was very much like my other songs pre-Leon.
âDo you think you have a chance to win tonight?â
âI hope so!â I continued answering questions, waving to reporters and fans alike.
âWhat about Leon? Are you ready to see him again?â
Claire reacted to his name before I did, tensing up and instantly ushering me away from the cameras. âSorry,â she raised a hand in apology to the confused press, who only seemed to get louder and more insistent on my stopping to talk to them. âSheâs gotta go get ready for her set. Nice talking to you, guys!â
As I was led inside and toward my dressing room, my brain finally seemed to compute the question. âLeonâs here?â
Claire sighed, opening the door and pushing me in gently. âJust don't focus on him. Focus on you, Dee.â
But it was too lateâhe was on my mind again, for the first time in nearly a year. Okay, six months. I thought of him. I thought of us, and the fallout of us. That damn article that he did with Zane Thomas, saying all those things about me, painting me like some unstable groupie that had latched onto him.
I hadnât wanted to believe that heâd actually said those things. Even now, I still didnât. But heâd been drunk, and everyone knew that alcohol made for a very effective truth serum.
Itâd been a year or so since we last spoke. I went no contact with him, though I stayed in contact with the bandâsomewhat. I was still friends with Ada and Jill. According to them, Dante had come back with some new material. On top of that, Leon had cleaned up his act and gone to rehab.
Good for him.
In the changing room, I slipped out of my dress and hung it up on the hook before pulling on my stage outfitâa pair of distressed denim bell-bottom jeans and a tight crop top that fell around my ribs, slightly showing off my faded underboob tattoo. I fussed with my hair a little too, teasing it from darling pop princess to something sexy and dishevelled.
Then, when I was called to the stage, I followed Claire out there and got into position on the rising platform, crouched low on my knees. Adjusting my in-ear and headset and taking a deep breath, the performer in me slid into place, filling my veins in a similarly smooth fashion to fabric sliding across skin.
At my cue, the platform began to lift as the music started, then cut out for my voice. I was posed in front of the camera like I had crawled over to it, staring down the lens as I whispered the songâs chorus. The fans were going nuts, shrieking and screaming as I flicked my eyes upward to take in the room.
Right into his.
He was at the back of the room, as expected. Sitting with the other members of his band, all of them were watching me with smirks on their faces, whilst his face was like stone, set into a look of neutrality in the shadows.
Why my eyes found his face first, I didn't know, and it was a fight to keep myself from reacting. My heart stuttered in my throat, and I nearly missed my cue by half a second if not for Claire in my in-ear telling me to get my head in the game.
Get my head in the game. Leon and I weren't together anymore. I couldn't let him affect this. I wouldn't. Forcing my persona back into place, I kept her there as the songâs intro finished and the actual song started, turning on my heels and strutting to my next position.
The performance went well. I managed to keep myself contained despite feeling his eyes on me, and the memories those eyes conjured up. Memories that felt so vivid that I had goosebumps rising to the surface of my skin and my nerves felt hot. Memories that had me feeling slightly breathless and dizzy, but thankfully not enough to warrant any concern.
Soon enough I was off-stage, changing back into my dress and heading back to the table near the front of the stage for the actual show. I entered some kind of autopilot mode, my eyes locked on the host and nobody else, despite the urge that ached within me to turn and look at him. In the back of my mind I could hear him whispering my name, calling out to me. My hands balled into fists against the skirt of my dress, knuckles white and my jaw gritted as I blocked him out.
âDee?â
Claireâs voice snapped me back to reality. I blinked, turning to look at her with a breathless gasp. âHm?â
âWeâre at the break. You wanna go to the bar for a drink?â
I looked around, my ears tuned into the cacophony of busyness that came with a show during a commercial break. Conversations were jumbled, artists mingling together and crowding around different tables, gentle laughter in the air and the flash of iPhone cameras as friends took selfies together.
Scanning through the crowd, I searched for Leon. He was nowhere to be found.
Rising out of my chair, I picked up the glasses, flashing Claire a wide smile. I could make it to the bar and back without a conversation with him. âI got it. You stay. I know what you like.â
As I headed for the bar, I remained on high alert. Though, a question kept running through my mind. If I did see him tonight, what would I do? What could I do? It wasn't as if he was stalking me. He was an artist as well, someone who had put out a new album recently. He had every right to be here, and I was being paranoid.
Placing the glasses down against the bartop, I flashed a smile to the bartender. âStrawberry daiquiri and a glass of Pinot Noir, please.â
âSure thing.â The bartender flashed me a wink in return, his beautiful emerald green eyes sparkling beneath the soft glow of the fairy lights hanging above us.
I flushed slightly, my hand coming to my mouth to suppress the embarrassing snort.
âPrincess.â
My body went cold as I heard that familiar nameâthat voice. I froze briefly, my spine going rigid, before slowly turning my head to face him.
Leon moved to lean against the bar beside me. My eyes tracked the movement, feeling the spark of electricity that passed between us as his body heat entered my vicinity.
He looked good. Healthier. Rehab must've done something for him. The scruff of stubble against his jaw was both so familiar and for foreign all at once, and he was dressed a lot smarter in a crisp black shirt and pants. He smelled good tooâIâd caught a whiff of his cologne as heâd passed me, my tongue swelling up as I felt my head spinning from the combination of smoke and dark chocolate.
Clearing my throat, I forced myself to look away from him, ignoring the flash of heat that burned in my gut. âLeon.â
âHi.â
âYouâre here.â
âI am.â His eyes slid over me. I craved more of that attention, melting like butter in a pan, before reminding myself to straighten up.
âYou look good.â
âSo do you.â
He chuckled, the dark rasp so familiar and as addictive as before. Then his voice dropped to something low and serious, the smile fading as his eyebrows knitted together. âCan we talk?â He asked, motioning to the busy room. âAway from all this?â
oop more tension in this one but also the fic is nearing a conclusion arc woop woop
full chapter here !! (count the amount of times i say 'fucking' in this chapter lmaooo)
Entering the apartment, I tossed my keys onto the entryway table, leaving the door open for the rest of the guys to follow me in. A heavy sigh left me as I headed straight for the kitchen, opening up the upper cabinet and pulling out the bottle of Jack, as well as five of the cleanest glasses I could find.
âWhat a shitshow.â The couch creaked beneath Chrisâs weight as he leaned on it, arms and legs crossed as he tipped his head back with a soft cluck of his tongue.
âYeah. No thanks to Leon.â Jake scoffed, shooting me daggers, which I felt boring into my back.
âI didnât do shit.â
âYou blabbed to the fucking press and made yourself out to look like an asshole,â Ada weighed in, settling into a stool at the counter, her elbows resting against the countertop. âYou broke that poor girlâs heart.â
I pulled a face, remembering the article. I hadn't known that good old Adam Unwin had actually been Zane Thomas, or that he would rip my words apart and make it seem like Dee had been crazy and unhinged, or that what weâd had was nothing more than sex. I had thought I was just venting my anger out on a kind stranger.
But that kind stranger turned out to be a leech of a reporter. And now Dee wasn't speaking to me. Not that we had been talking since weâd broken up a few days ago, but still. The silence felt even more frigid now.
âHe took my words out of context.â I sighed, taking a swig from my glass before handing the rest out to everyone else. Luis and Chris accepted the proffered drinks, along with Ada, each muttering a soft âthank youâ as they settled in separate corners of the living room, each trying to avoid directly looking at meâas if I were Medusa about to petrify them.
Jake, on the other hand, glared at it like I had poisoned it. After a beat, he sneered. âYou just couldn't keep it in your fucking pants, could you?â
I raised an eyebrow. âExcuse me?â
âBecause of you, weâve been kicked off of a tour that was the thing that would put us back on the map. We had a whole new legion of fans coming our way, but then because you couldnât keep your hands off of the untouchable princess, youâve doomed us.â
I gritted my teeth, moving to put the glass back down on the counter before I could suddenly smash it in his face. âI don't like your fucking tone, Muller.â
âYeah, well, I hate yours!â Jake yelled back, a vein fluttering wildly in his neck. If the air was frigid before, it had become fucking arctic now. âEveryone can fucking see itâand everyone fucking hates you for it. You're⌠youâre crashing and burning, and Iâm fucking done with putting you out all the time.â
âJust what are you trying to say?â I narrowed my eyes, stepping closer.
âI say I give up. Iâm done.â He threw his hands up and sighed, shaking his head. âIâm finding another band. One that focuses more on music than chasing jailbait pussyââ
âShe wasn't fucking jailbait,â I corrected, but I could see the logic. But at the same time, I was also seeing red, pissed that Jake was beating this dead horse. âAnd need I fucking remind you that youâre also dating someone younger than you?â
He groaned loudly, scrubbing his hands across his face. âHere we fucking go again. Sherry and I met under different circumstancesâand I didnât get drunk and fuck her the first night I met her. We developed a friendship first, like a normal person does.â
I huffed a laugh, adrenaline kicking in. If Jake wanted a fight, he was gonna fucking get one. âSo Iâm not normal?â
âNo! You're a⌠fucking coked-up junkie, clinging onto his golden years. And itâs pissing me the fuck off.â
With that, Jake left, slamming the door behind him. The door rattled on its hinges from the force. An awkward silence passed through the room, as everyone else looked like they would rather be anywhere else. Luis was shuffling from foot to foot. Chris was staring into his whiskey glass like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Ada was visibly cringing, busying herself with rooting through her handbag for nothing in particular.
Finally, someone spoke up. âHeâs right, you know.â
I closed my eyes, searching for the strength to keep myself in check. âFor fuckâs sake, Chrisââ
âIâm just saying! You never used to be this⌠obsessive. Itâs weird,â he paused, then continued. âPlus, you are using a lot moreâsmoking more hash, drinkingââ
âFucking sue me for it then. Iâm not a kid. Iâm a grown man.â
âWhoâs acting like a child.â He got up from the back of the couch, rolling his shoulders back like an attempt to intimidate me. In hindsight, it was probably the exhaustion setting in, but right then and there it felt like a personal attack. âLeon, youâre going off the deep end, manââ
âAnd you've grown fucking soft ever since you and that girlfriend of yours got married, even before that,â I shot back, squaring my shoulders and tilting my chin up in defiance. âYou used to be fun, Redfield. We all used to be fun. Snorting blow off of a groupieâs tits, passing her around as she giggled and screeched like a little fucking bunny.â
âNo, that was you, Leon,â Chris frowned, his words nearly knocking me back, but I held firm. He placed a hand to his chest as he went on. âIâve always been about the music. But right now, it seems youâre still chasing tail, and it's affecting all of us.â
I turned to look at Luis, hoping I had someone on my side. âLuis. Are you affected?â
Luis raised his hands in defence, looking like a rabbit caught in a snare. âIâm staying out of this.â
Fucking pussy.
âMaybe Jakeâs right to leave, is all Iâm saying. And I think Iâm gonna do just that. Right now.â
Chris left, striding through the apartment with his shoulders squared in determination. The door slammed once more in his wake.
I scoffed, calling out after him. âPussy! Jill has a bigger dick than you anyway!â
Silence stretched over once more, heavier and thicker than before. It permeated every crack and crevice, making me grimace as I swigged from my glass again, letting the whiskey burn in my throatâat least that was staying true to me.
Luis seemed to be wanting to make an exit, slowly shuffling toward the door and keeping his head down. I glared at him. âGo on, then. Leave as well,â I spat. âMight as well have all my friends abandon me.â
Luis paused, looking over at me with big, wet, sympathetic eyes that made me want to gag. âWe⌠we fucking care about you man, but we can't fucking do this anymore.â
As soon as Luis left, shutting the door a lot softer than the other two, the tension left within the room was thick enough to choke on.
It wasnât helping much, either, to have Adaâs ice-cold stare burrowing into my soul.
âWhat?â I snarled.
âYouâre cruel, you know that?â
I rolled my eyes, busying myself with draining my glass. This third-degree act was getting fucking tired. âIâm honest, babe. Thereâs a difference.â
âTheyâre your friendsââ
âTheyâre traitors. Pussies. I don't need them. Iâm fucking Leon Kennedy. I can do whatever the fuck I want with my life.â
âAnd what are you planning to do, hm?â
I frowned at such a vicious accusationâthat actually wasnât that vicious at all. But I was drunk, and feeling victimised. Even though the real victim in all of this wasn't even here in this room. Why the fuck was everyone yelling at me?
âYou know, if youâre gonna piss off too, you can. Donât wait for me to let you go.â
Ada rose from her seat with a weary sigh, leaving her glass untouched as she picked up her purse. âLeon, we all care about you,â she said, the bite in her voice softened. âWe don't wanna see you crashing out like thisâit doesn't feel normal. Look⌠just, call me when you sober up, okay? Iâll⌠try and smooth things over with the other guys, but in the meantime just⌠don't fucking kill yourself okay?â
Ada left without another word. I was well and truly alone in the apartment now, and I sighedâboth out of relief that everyone was gone and no longer yapping in my ear, but also out of regret that I had fucked everything up.
hehe more fallout more angst. this fic is very much coming to an end which means once it does i'm going full hiatus to focus on writing more amazingggg fics for you all :3
full chapter here !!
I curled up underneath the covers with my knees tucked to my chest, staring out of the window as the silence within the empty hotel room made my ears ring. I wasn't focused on the outside world at allâhow the neon lights outside bled so nicely with the black starry sky, or how the thrum of music and people on the street below made me want to get lost in a sea of bright beads and alcohol when it wasnât even Mardi Gras.
Instead, I was replaying everything that had happened in the last twenty minutes. How Leon and I had arrived at our hotel, ready to fall into bed yet also knowing that we had a lot of explaining to do, since weâd done a disappearing act that had lasted around two days.
And then, we saw those pictures.
I felt sick to my stomach, wincing in pain like I was trying to pass a kidney stone. Except, in reality, my heart was breaking as my brain repeated those last words from Leon before heâd stormed out and slammed the door so loud it was still rattling ten minutes later.
Fuck you, then.
This had been our first proper fight. Of course it would be over thisâthe need for secrecy, when Iâd told him time and time again that as much as I wanted to be out and proud with him, we had to be careful. Not that we were. There were many times when weâd been reckless in public, yet somehow Leon had always known how to get away with it.
Until now.
My body had been plastered all over the internet, and the fans had seen it. Picking up my phone, I doomscrolled through the slew of comments, disregarding Claireâs social media ban to see the fallout.
âOn the beach?! That's gross. Like, I was there today with my familyâŚâ one readânot my fan or Leonâs, just a random netizen.
âI mean⌠get your man, girl, but do we really need to see that?â
âI knew she looked familiar! Sheâs the girl on Danteâs album cover!â One of the Infernos exclaimed, attaching their post with side-by-side pictures of our beach trip and the âDelightâ album cover, where anybody with eyes could now see the resemblanceâeven with the artistic fog. That one little post had millions of comments all confirming the theory, as well as disappointment conveyed that they hadn't known until now.
There were a few supportive comments, from more angelic members of my fan army wishing me well or coming to my defense, but most of it was negative. The negativity was what my brain latched onto, sinking me so deep that I jumped out of my skin from shock as three sharp knocks rippled across the door.
Letting out a squeak, I tossed my phone like it was a bomb, just in case Claire was sniffing about.
âDee?â It wasn't Claire. It was Sherry. âHey, let me in?â
I breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Sherryâs voice, getting out from beneath the covers and padding across the room to the door. On the way, I quickly glanced at my appearance in a nearby mirror, hoping my face wasn't too splotchy or that my eyes weren't too puffed up. They were. I was a wreck.
Shit.
Sucking in a deep breath, I plastered on the fakest smile I could muster and opened the door. My face crumpled within seconds when I saw Sherry standing there, a shy smile on her lips as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, a bottle of my favourite red and a brand new corkscrew in her hands and an empathetic glimmer in her eyes.
âHey. I heard what happened. Came over for support. Jake warned me against it, but, heâs not the boss of me.â
Without waiting for an answer, Sherry pushed into the room. She popped the cork before climbing beneath the covers, patting the space beside her as she got comfy in bed.
That was meant to be a bed that Leon and I should be sharing, snuggled beneath a thick fluffy blanket of warmth as we watched crappy movies and stuffed our faces with junk food. But, instead, I was sharing the bed with my stylist and my closest confidant, guzzling down wine like it was oxygen whilst my boyfriend was⌠wherever.
Sherry watched me with a soft chuckle of amusement, gently rubbing my back as I choked on my swallows. âEasy there,â she teased, âthe bottle is for sharing.â
âSorry.â I croaked, letting some much-needed oxygen flow through my veins. I felt like a kid at a birthday party, having drunk too much juice within a short period of time. I groaned, putting my head in my hands. âFuck. My tits are all over the internet. And not even in a fun way.â
Sherry snorted, taking the bottle and lifting it to her lips for a much daintier sip. âJake told me all about what you guys were up to. Plus⌠neither of you were really subtle about it either.â She smirked, winking at me to rub it in. âI think we were all just waiting for the pin to drop.â
Great. More people who knew. Tonight couldnât get much worse. âYou knew?â
âMhm. I always know. And, unlike my grump of a boyfriend, I donât care. Not just because Iâm also dating an older guy,â she beamed supportively, placing her hand on top of mine and squeezing. âItâs nice seeing you happy. I always root for your happiness, you know that.â
I pouted. I didnât feel very happy.âThank you.â
âAnd Claire does too, even if she can be a little intense.â
âShe ripped me a new one.â I winced, taking the bottle back. This time around, I followed Sherryâs lead and sipped. âZane Thomas is asking for an exclusive.â
Sherry sneered, rolling her eyes. âFuck that guy. A leech. He went after me and Jake when we got together at first, but we shut that shit down fast.â
âThatâs different, though,â I whined, even though it wasnât right to compare the situations. I sounded childish. âYouâre not a pop star. Fashion designers have it easier in terms of celebrity fame.â
âWe still got it tough, Dee.â Sherry laughed, taking no offence to my petulant grumbling.
âSorry. Iâm just⌠I don't know what to doââ
Across the room, my phone began to blare, vibrating as the shrill ringtone bounced off the walls. Sherry got out of bed to pick it up, peering at the screen before showing it to me. There was a huge crack down the middle of it which spiderwebbed out to somewhat obscure the caller, but not too much. âItâs Ashley.â
âOkay, answer.â I couldnât leave her hanging. Ash was a good friend too, plus I trusted her with my secrets. Not that I had many of those anymore.
Sherry slid her thumb across the screen to accept the call, walking back over to the bed and getting back under the covers.
Ashley screeched mere seconds later, barely giving Sherry a chance. âYouâre dating Leon Kennedy?!â
âHi, Ashley.â
âHi, Sherry,â Ashley quickly greeted, her tone suddenly subdued, before quickly the decibels picked up. Her face filled the screenâFaceTimeâas she seemed to be hidden beneath her desk, her blond bob swinging wildly with each shake of her head as she continued to rave. âSoâwait, hold on. How long have you two been together?â
âAround.. seven months.â
âWhen did it start?â
âYou know when I came in after that award show. The day of my live?â
âWhen you were wearing that band shirt?â Ashley paused, instantly putting two and two together and gasping dramatically when she got to four. âWaitâwas that his shirt?!â
âYes.â
âDee! I thought you really thrifted that!â Thankfully, she didn't seem pissed at me. She looked like she was happy for me as well. She was grinning from ear to ear, giggling and gushing. âNo wonder Claire was so pissed off that day. Was it like that all the time?â
I found myself smirking at Ashleyâs conspiratorial grin. âSome of the time. Other times we just⌠we hung out. Ate food. Had normal date nights.â
âAnd the whole tour?â
I nodded. âYeah, weâve been together a lot then. We only just started using the label. He met my folks.â
âYou guys got matching tattoos,â she teased, and Sherry nudged me playfully, grinning.
hello! so, with this final chapter, i bring news. for the oc x canon fic days (tuesday n saturday) i wont be posting until the next fic in this series is finished. i wanna be able to write without the looming stress of a schedule on me. i will keep posting for now on monday / friday for v&v, and then when that fic is done, i will take a break from posting then too to focus on writing. i have been posting a HELL of a lot recently and it is lowkey burning me out lol.
anyways: full chapter here !!
10th September 2014
Leaning against the doorframe, I looked around at the now-bare dark gray walls that had once held posters of bands that Iâd once loved as a kid, alongside charcoal sketches and watercolor paintings. The only remaining pop of color on these four walls nowâother than the white window frameâwas the mural that was on the wall, a huge motif of black swirls with pops of red and green to look like roses. Selene had spent hours on that when we gave her this room all those years ago.
She stood now in front of the full-length mirror, adding the finishing touches to her makeup whilst simultaneously checking out her outfitâa black milkmaid-style dress that fell down to her knees, paired with chunky Mary Jane heels. She looked absolutely gorgeous. My vision got a bit blurry as I beamed fondly at herâthis gorgeous girl, all grown up, getting more and more independent by the second.
Her eyes found mine through the mirror, a blonde eyebrow raised at me as she turned slowly to look at me. âDad?â
I quickly cleared my throat, not wanting to blubber just yet. âSorry, kiddo,â I sniffled and forced a low chuckle. âJust checking in, making sure youâre all good to go.â
âMm. Give me another.. five minutes?â
We were going out tonightâall of us. It was Seleneâs last night in the States before sheâd officially move to Spain to attend her dream collegeâthat fancy art school in Barcelona that she hadnât stopped going on about. Sheâd finally heard from them a few weeks back, the day of her senior prom, and had been packing excitedly ever since.
Dee and I were over the moon for her, but also a little scaredâas parents usually are when their kid flies the nest to a whole other country. But Selene had assured us that she wasnât going to be on her own out there. A few of the girls from her class were planning on a year of travelling before college, so sheâd be catching flights with them.
âIs Mom ready to go?â
Seleneâs voice brought me out of my thoughts. I cast a look toward the closed door at the end of the hall. A sigh filled my chest, stuck in my lungs. âI donât know. Iâll go take a look.â
âDadââ
I couldn't hear Seleneâs nervous interjection, blocking it out as I headed for the door and tapped my knuckles gently on the hollow wood before opening it.
The bedroom was darkâcurtains drawn, slivers of light peeking through but not enough to fill the large space. The hallway light helped to cover that, lighting up the silhouette of Dee lying on her side of the bed, with Max curled into her side like a shield.
When I went over, moving on carefully silent feet, the dog lifted his head and whined softly, padding away when I moved him and took up space behind her, arms pulling her back against me.
âHey,â I mumbled softly against the shell of her ear, stroking her hair as she twisted and nuzzled against me, her arms tucked up against her chest. âSeleneâs nearly ready to go. Are you gonna get up soon?â
Dee froze for a moment before she quickly relaxed, letting out a heavy sigh. âSorry.â She sniffled, her voice throaty as she went to get up. âIâll get upââ
Not a chance was I letting her go right now. âNo.â I pulled her back down again, wrapping my arms around her even tighter than before. She fell back into me with a soft whimper that then became a muffled sob as she burrowed her face against my chest. My throat started to close up at the sound, my jaw tightening with guiltâeven though what happened wasnât either of our faults. âStay for a minute. Itâs okay.â
Ever since that night that weâd agreed we would start trying, everything had been a blur. Dee had fallen pregnant pretty fast, telling me the news in early August. Weâd both been over the moon, but there had also been a lingering fear creeping in, festering in the shadowsâespecially within her, who had become convinced that something was going to happen, and no matter how often I tried to squash those doubts, it hadnât been enough.
Then, yesterday morning, Dee had woken up early to go to the bathroom. I had been fast asleep, but awoke with a start as soon as I heard her screaming. Racing into the bathroom, my face had paled at the sight of blood in her panties. Weâd rushed to the hospital, but weâd known that news was coming before the doctor had even said it.
The doctor had told us that this kind of thing happened to many couples, especially those who were trying to conceive for the first time. But the miscarriage had just made Deeâs fears all the more worse, escalating them to the point that, the moment we came home, she became catatonic. Sheâd locked herself away in the bedroom for the rest of the day, refusing to eat or move. Iâd had to pry the bloodied panties from her balled-up hand, opting to throw them away.
âIâm sorry.â She sucked in a deep, wheezy breath, trying to calm herself down. âThis is all my fault.â
âItâs not, baby. You heard what Dr Tanner said. That miscarriages arenât unusual with new pregnancies. This is not on you, okay?â
âBut itâs my body that did it,â she said, her voice tinged with anger and hurt. âI told you this would happenâthat because of all the viruses, the tollââ
âBaby.â I cradled her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. Her deep dark eyes were wide and fearful, glassy with tears. The red rims of her waterline made my heart ache. I pressed my forehead to hers, willing her to hear my words. âStop that. Now. You arenât at faultânever. Iâm not mad at you, okay?â I took a breath. âWe.. we just give it a moment, and then we can try again.â
âIâI guess..â she muttered softly with another heavy sigh. âBut what if that doesn't work? Are we just gonna be stuck here, going through this same cycle again and again? Getting our hopes up, just to have them crushed?â
âWe can try other means, then. We can go through IVF. We can afford it.â
Iâd do whatever it took to get us our baby. Because not only did I just want it now, but she wanted it too. Seeing her face light up in that precious moment where we both found out was something Iâd treasure forever.
There was a soft, tentative knock on the door. Selene poked her head in, flashing us both a shy smile. Her eyes went to Dee. âMom? Are you ready to go?â She paused, hesitant before she added, âI was gonna go wait in the car, but⌠if you guys arenât up for itââ
âNo.â Dee sat up again, this time more determined as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Heading to the closet, she began rooting through clothes. âWeâre going. Selene, this is your last night with us. Weâre gonna celebrate it. You two go get in the car. Iâll be out in ten.â
âAre you sure?â I asked, rising with her and hovering nearby, ready to catch her if she fell.
âYeah,â Selene agreed, nodding. âMom, I donât mind if we donât go. We can just order pizza andââ
âWeâre going,â Dee said with finality, barely a quiver in her voice as she pulled out a long black dress. She smiled, showing off both rows of teeth as she ushered us out of the room. âGo. Let me get myself dolled up.â
Selene and I shared a long look before we obliged her. I kissed her on the cheek before silently slipping from the room with Selene in tow.
me when i post a relationship break up that is so dramatic: đ¤đ¤đ¤đđđ
full chapter here !!
As we entered the motel room, I slid my hand across the wall to find the light switch, which quickly bathed the muted yellow walls in a light golden glow. It was dark outside, the neon lights and warm glow of New Orleanian steel street lamps bleeding in through the large window, which offered a gorgeous view of the Mississippi and the bayou stretching out beyond that.
Weâd driven around eight hours to get here, stopping off every so often to get gas, food or rest. But, weâd made itâthough, weâd not only missed the concert, but an extra day as well.
Oops.
âCan I turn my phone back on now?â Dee asked, flopping down on the bed with a groan and curling up into the cream-colored comforter, pushing off her shoes with her toes before flexing them.
I smirked, dropping our bags down by the door as I bumped it shut. Unzipping her duffel, I reached in and grabbed her phone, handing it over to her. âSure. Just gonna use the bathroom.â
âOkay,â she sighed tiredly, the sound of her voice growing fainter as I entered the sparkling bathroom and shut the door. After taking a quick pee and washing my hands, I then washed my face, taking a moment to study my reflection in the mirror.
I looked haggard as shit. There were deep, dark purple bags beneath my eyes that made it look like Iâd gone twenty rounds with Mike Tyson. My hair was a mess, way past the level of âwindsweptâ and more along the lines of âdragged through a hedgeâ. And my skin looked gaunt and sickly.
Exhaustion set deep into my bones as I pushed off the vanity, the only thing on my mind being the heavenly thought of falling into bed and sleeping for an entire week.
I was about to do just thatâmy hand literally on the doorknob of the bathroom door, ready to pull it openâwhen I heard Dee suddenly scream. âWhat the fuck?!â
I pulled open the door, my heart lurching in my chest as I rushed out. She was on her feet, her eyes wide and her jaw slack as she stared at her phone screen, the color slowly draining from her face as she stammered and wheezed.
âBabe? Whatâs the emergency?â
She barely managed to spit the words out, the decibel so high that a pack of hyenas in Africa could hear her. âWeâre on fucking TMZ!â
I blinked, just about registering what she said, though it took me a minute. âWe are?â
She handed me the phone, practically tossing it at me like it was a live grenade. I cleared my throat, looking at what was on her screen. There were videosâand a collage of images, all of them blurredâof the two of us on the beach in Port Aransas, taken seemingly from a nearby cliff or some bushes. Each and every one of those pictures showed the two of us naked and in every position imaginableâeither her riding me, or with her on her back with my head between her legs, or with her on all fours as I took her from behind.
The caption was in big, bold letters: âHartwell and Kennedyâs Sexy RendezvousâCollabing Artists Caught Getting Steamy During Tourtime!â
Barely a millisecond after I caught the headline, the screen went black. Her phone began to vibrate with an urgency in my hand, Claireâs name and contact photo popping up. Shit. My face immediately paled as he held the screen up for Dee to look. âItâs Claire.â
âFuck!â She cursed again, scrubbing my hands through my hair.
In a stupid, split-second move, I swiped my thumb across the screen to answer the call, putting the phone on loudspeaker so that we could hear Claireâs pterodactyl screeching, which also sounded like it was coming from a few rooms away. âDo you two have any fucking idea what youâve done?!â
âHi, Claire,â I offered a polite greeting, getting a growl in return.
âNot now, Leon! Give Dee the phone, now.â
âHey, look, I caused this mess. Whatever you gotta say, say it to both of usââ
âI gave you both one fucking job! One! I said you two could do whatever you fucking wanted on this tour, continue being together, whateverâso long as the fans or the company heads were none the fucking wiser.â I could picture Claire a few doors down, wearing a hole into the floor with all that pacing. I fought the urge to grin at it. Not the time. âBecause the two of you took two fucking days to get to New Orleans, thanks to that little trip you took to Port Aransas, Ada and I had to put statements out on socials to tell them you were both sick and that the shows were postponed. Now I find out about this!â
âClaireââ Dee spat out, only to be immediately cut off.
âI am in so much shit right now, wiping both your fucking asses of this mess.â
Dee tried again, clearing her throat. She was pacing just as much, wringing her hands together nervously. âWho leaked the pictures?â
âZane Thomas.â
âThe Zane Thomas?!â She gasped, looking like that name was poison on her tongue as she reared back.
I was confused, looking between the phone screen and Dee with a blank expression. âWho the fuckâs that?â
She sighed, tutting like I was an incompetent idiot who should know everything about everyone in her life. âHeâs been riding my ass since I left Disney, searching for a scandal.â
âWhich you two just handed to him on a silver fucking platter.â Something clattered in the background, like Claire was throwing something, or banging her fists somewhere. I was glad that she wasnât beating down the door right now, though I could imagine she was gearing herself up for it. âHeâs been asking for an interview, for the exclusive on âDeonâ. I told him to shove it up his ass, in more polite terms.â
âThank you, Claire.â Dee exhaled a breath of relief, her shoulders briefly slumping, but going rigid again as Claire kept up her tirade.
âIf he comes looking for either of you, or if any other press come knocking, turn them away. Fuck. We do not need this right nowâwell fucking done, you two. Iâm gonna do some scrubbing. Stay the fuck where you are.â
She hung up on us, the three beeps that signify the end of the call sounding louder than normal. I finally set the phone down on a nearby table, turning to look at Dee. She looked utterly shell-shocked, barely even moving or breathing as more color drained from her face than I thought possible. She matched perfectly with the stark white carpet at our feet.
âWhat the fuck do we do now, Leon?â She whined, tears starting to brim in her waterline. Turning away from me, she began to pace again.
The question had most definitely been a rhetorical one, yet I gave an answer anyway. âGive them what they want.â
She suddenly whirled around, all but foaming at the mouth as she looked like sheâd suddenly been shot. âWhat?!â
I crossed the room and sat on the bed, wholly unbothered by thisâeven though I should be. Our privacy had been invaded, Dee had been humiliated and our secret had been exposed. And I was shrugging like I couldnât give a shit. Even worse than thatâ I rolled my eyes. âWe give that reporter what he wants to hear. Itâs not like the two of us are doing anything illegal, babe. Youâre twenty-seven. Legal age. And itâs not like I coerced you into getting with me. Weâre two consenting adultsââ
âI have an image, Leon.â At that moment in time, I began to hate the way she hurled that word at me. âIâve told you so many times, I canât be seen in a secret relationship, especially withââ
âWith who?â I narrowed my eyes, suddenly feeling very defensive. My hackles raised, I bristled. I didnât see what the big deal wasâwe were bound to have been discovered at some point. In my opinion, I figured it was better that we got it all out in the open sooner rather than later, since it would look even more suspicious if we tried to cover it up.
I also hated that other word she used. Especially. Like I was someone embarrassing to be with. It made me feel bitter, and twisted. Like I wanted to hurt something. âWith a guy like me? Some grungy, washed-up has-been? A leech?â
She stammered, her voice going quiet. âThatâs not what I said.â
âYou didnât say anything. You didnât disagree with all the shit we did. You were totally up for fucking me all those times. At your place, at mine. On the beach, in the parking lot, in my truck, in a restaurant bathroom. You didnât say shit then.â
Her face twisted into a look of hurt. âOh, so now youâre coming back at me? Itâs my fault weâre in this mess?â
The front door blew closed with a thundering bang thanks to the storm raging outside. The hinges rattled. Max started up a loud chorus of barking as he rushed over to see who had come in, and Trixie launched herself several feet into the air, her back arched as she yowled and rushed off toâpresumablyâhide under the bed.
âWho pissed you off today?â A voice called out, the accompanying laugh soft, deep, and rumbling.
I smirked. Leon and I had a little inside jokeâwhenever one of us accidentally shut the door a little too hard, we asked if the other was pissed off.
Sliding off my shoes and my dripping wet coat, I bent down to scratch Max behind the ears, grinning as he stomped his back feet excitedly. âNobody. Just the wind, babe.â I glanced in the entryway mirror, grimacing at the reflection. I looked like a drowned rat, my hair plastered to my deathly pale face.
Curse me for forgetting my umbrella. Curse this sudden summer storm.
The smell of something warm and greasy dragged me toward the kitchen like a Looney Tunes character, before I came to a sudden stop at the scene before me.
Leon stood at the counter, his back to me as he plated up something. The dining table was laid out with candlesâokay, an LED tea light, but, same thingâand two glasses, the open bottle of red wine sat waiting, with condensation gliding down the outer edge.
Wrapped in light blue cellophane was a bundle of flowers. Pink roses and baby's breath.
Leon spun around just as my eyes began to well up, holding two plates full of noodles, the steam curling upwards invitingly. They looked just like the noodles from that one Chinese place we frequented. A quick glance past him toward the mess of bags and takeout containers on the counter confirmed my suspicions.
He had a fond smile on his face, his eyes shimmering brightly as he nodded his head toward the bountiful food. âHey. Thought we could have a little date night. Seleneâs out tonightâgone to study.â
He carried the plates over to the table, setting them down before coming over to me. Cradling my wet face in his hands, his warm palms instantly warmed my cheeks, the calluses of his fingers rough against my shivering skin. âYou look like you just climbed out of a well, by the way,â He teased, kissing my forehead. âYou forgot your umbrella?â
I groaned, rolling my eyes as I remembered the flood that Iâd walked into. âDidnât think I'd need it. I was wrong.â
He let me go, nodding his head toward the hallway, and to our ensuite bathroom. âGo shower. Warm up. I can wait.â
I nodded, slipping past him and heading for the hallway, breathing in a large whiff of chow mein. My stomach growled insistently, yet I told myself to shower first, then I could gorge all I wanted. And gorge I would. âI won't be long,â I called back, glancing over my shoulder at him as he remained in the kitchen like a robot awaiting its next instructions. âTen minutes?â
âIf youâre gonna be that long, letâs just skip dinner,â he said with an exaggerated sigh, before he grinned and winked. Another one of our little games and joking moments.
âDonât wait up for me, then.â I winked back at him before heading into the bedroom, dumping my bag on the bed and moving straight into the bathroom.
Once there, I peeled out of my wet clothes and tossed them into the hamper, sighing with relief once I stepped under that hot spray. A shudder rushed through me, curling my toes as I instantly made sure every inch of my body was covered in this glorious heat, before going through the motions of showering. Washing and lathering my hair with my new shampoo that I got. Shaving any parts of the body that were getting a little prickly. Revitalising myself back into a living, breathing human being rather than a tired, overworked husk.
Five minutes later, I shut off the water and climbed out, towel-drying my hair before throwing the damp strands up into a messy bun. After pulling on a pair of shorts and an oversized hoodieâbecause whilst it might be stormy outside, the rain battering the windows like a debt collector, we were still within the summer monthsâI left the bedroom to find that Leon had moved our dinner date to the couch, the man currently scrolling through a backlog of our favourite Netflix shows.
âAre we not sitting at the table anymore?â I asked, rounding the couch and plonking down onto the comfy cushions.
âNah. Thought you might wanna sit down somewhere comfier tonight.â He handed me my plate as soon as I was settled, before leaning forward carefully to grab the bottle of wine and a glass, pouring me half.
I frowned, watching his hands tremble as he measured it out. âBabe. I can do thatââ
He smiled. âNo. Itâs okay. I can manage.â
Leon had been true to his word about not drinking⌠somewhat. Heâd cut back considerably, and only had something to drink whenever I did. We had one glass of wine most nights to decompress, and once that glass was done, weâd switch to some calming tea to help mellow out. Heâd completely cut out whiskey, except on more social occasions. Then, heâd have a few glasses of whiskey before switching to something non-alcoholic.
I was proud of him. He seemed so much happier and healthier, a stride in his step compared to the shuffle he used to have. And even though he still hated his job, he loved me more than anything. Even more so now.
He clinked our glasses together, taking a slow sip from his before setting it down and twirling noodles around his fork. âHow was everything at the hospital?â
I let out a slow sigh, noodles tightly coiled around my own fork as I brought it to my mouth. âFine,â I muttered after chewing and swallowing. âJust did some more memory work.â
I hadnât completely lost my memories like Iâd thought I had. They had just been fuzzy, locked away like my motor functions had been thanks to the virus. After a short check-in at the hospital post-revival, I was put into some kind of extra therapy session designated to unlocking my brain.
That, and it was also to unpack all of the hell that I had gone through.
All I knew about my memory was that, if I ever got a warm fuzzy feeling that felt like deja vu, I could trust it to be real.
I shook my head, clearing the thoughts away and focusing back on Leon. âHow was your day?â
âBoring. Paperwork. Bit of gym time to keep me in shape,â he bragged, flexing mainly for my amusement. That was another thing heâd started doing againâgoing to the gym. He had been a bit lax on it for a few years. Not completely letting himself go, yet heâd lost that âwashboard absâ quality that heâd once had.
But now he was getting it back. âMm. Not bad, babe.â I played along, squeezing his bicep as the muscle popped out beneath his white t-shirt. I chuckled. âI think thereâs a few jars I need you to open.â
He rolled his eyes with a snort, yet I saw the tiniest hint of his cheeks turning red as they dimpled from his shy grin.
We fell into a comfortable silence as we ate, filled only by the sound of the televisionâthe screen filled with the familiar theme of âLaw and Orderââand our reactions to whatever was going on, as well as the storm outside and the ear-grating squeaks or soft clinks of silverware against crockery. The sound of domesticity.
Afterward, Leon took the plates, carrying them to the kitchen and rinsing them off before stacking them on the drainer. He then returned swiftly to the couch, bringing the flowers with him and presenting them to me with a flourish.
âFor you,â he bowed, looking up at me with an impish expression. âMy whole heart.â
I giggled, taking the flowers as carefully as one might handle fine china. Pressing my nose into the bouquet, I inhaled the soft scent before setting them down on the nearby armchair to deal with later. âLeon,â I felt my cheeks heating up, wondering what I did to deserve such fawning. âYou didn't have to do all this.â
hehe silly little chapter that's gonna features tats n beach smut bc im feelin it rn
full chapter here !! enjoy !!
The bell above the tattoo parlour chimed out a little twinkling tune as Leon held the door open for me. Ducking underneath his arm, I was met by the smell of ink and antiseptic wipes, grunge music pulsing softly in my ears. I took in deep red walls filled with different art pieces, admiring the designs of all sizes and colours marked by a swirling, fancy signature.
A tanned man with cropped short platinum blond hair and bright blue eyes, with tattoos covering him from head to toeâat least, it seemed that wayâstood behind the neon-lit counter, flicking through a magazine showing off guns and biker baddies. He glanced up at us with a wide grin, quickly sliding the magazine away and tipping his head toward us.
âHowdy,â he greeted in a smooth Texan drawl, the toothpick between his lips rolling around as he bit down on it. âWelcome to âIndiaâs Inkâ, what are you looking for?â
âA tattoo,â Leon spoke up, taking the arm that had been wrapped around my shoulders since we left the hotel earlier and leaning against the counter, his fingers drumming on the top. âA custom one.â
âSure, we can do custom.â A womanâs voice floated through as she came out from behind a curtain. She was beautifulâtall and slender, covered in swirling black with pops of dark crimson or purple, her designs blending perfectly with her honeyed skin tone. The various piercings that hung from her face, ears, and within her navel glittered beneath the fluorescent spotlights as she beamed at us. âWhatâs the design?â
Leon smirked at me, licking his lips. âPrincess, you carry around your lipstick, donât you?â
âAlways,â I said, reaching for it within my black leather clutch bag. What did my lipstick have to do with his tattoo? âWhy?â
He then turned his attention to the two tattoo artists. âYou guys got a bathroom in here?â
They shared a confused lookâlips pursing and eyebrows furrowingâbefore the woman pointed to a door tucked in the corner, next to a wild-leafed ficus plant. âOver thereâhey!â
He suddenly grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the door. âDonât worry!â He called out to the bewildered artists, who sputtered weakly in protest. âWe arenât gonna be doing anythingâI just need her for something!â
âThat doesnât make it any betterâLeon!â I laughed breathlessly, the door slamming behind me as Leon pulled me into the tiny bathroom. It was essentially a powder roomâbarely enough for the two of us to breathe in, let alone stand. There was a mint-coloured toilet and a matching porcelain vanity, with a stark white marble slab beneath acting as a small shelf holding a bottle of pump soap. The walls and floor tiles were a muted pink, making this room look almost ripped from the seventies or eighties, which looked odd compared to the gothic design of the rest of the store.
âWhat the hell are you doing?â
Leon waggled his eyebrow at me, pulling his black shirt off from the round neckline.
My jaw dropped, my eyes bugging out and dipping down to check him out, even though I'd seen him in this state so many times before I knew every single fine hair that grew out of his chest, his arms, and in his happy trail. Every inch of sinewy muscle. Every splotch of dark, faded ink.
âPut your lipstick on.â
âWhy?â
âBecause,â he said, running his fingers along my arm in a smooth, slow way that instantly left goosebumps in their wake. âYouâre gonna be my new piece.â
I blinked, letting out a scoff of disbelief. I was just as confused as I had been out there. This man loved to talk in riddles, didn't he? âIâm what?â
âPut your lipstick on,â he repeated, coaxing me. âAnd Iâll explain.â
After another beat of hesitation, searching his eyes to see whether or not he was about to bullshit me, I did as he asked, popping the cap of my MAC Lustreglass lipstick. Smearing the blood red tip across my lips and rubbing them together to ensure an even spread, I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to tell me what he was doing.
âNow,â he leaned back against the vanity, bracing his hands against the marble ledge. âPut your lips anywhere you want. Except my legs. I hate getting tattoos there.â
I gaped at him, my words coming out in a surprised giggle. âHuh?â
âYou heard me.â He reached for my hand, pulling me forward. My legs felt like jelly, my feet feeling as if they had sharp pins and needles attacking them as I stumbled forward. âYour lips, on my body. Press hard, so that lipstick gets a good transfer.â
âAnd thatâs gonna be the tattoo?â I asked.
âYep.â He smirked confidently. âIt ain't exactly your name, but itâll remind me of you whenever I look at it.â
I bit down on my bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat to my cheeks as I contemplated where to put my mark. Moreover, I contemplated whether or not I should do this. No other man had done this for me before in our relationshipâgot a tattoo in my honour, or even let me design the tattoo, so to speak. Not until Leon.
There were so many places I could choose, the whole host of them rushing through my head as I scanned over his chest, his jeans hanging low on his hipbones. My eyebrows raised slightly as I considered placing my mark on his hips, or perhaps on the firm pillow of his abs, before I brought my line of sight higher to his sternum and chest, before finally choosing my placeâright where his heart would be.
I let out a hum as I stepped closer, my heel clicking softly on the sticky-looking tile floor as I pressed a lingering kiss on his skin, right in the middle of his right pec. When I pulled back, he turned to face the mirror, admiring the fresh kiss mark before taking my hand and pulling me from the bathroom.
The tattoo artists were still just as bewildered, looking just about ready to call the cops as they scanned us, scrutinising everything. A shirtless man pulling a flustered girl from a bathroom certainly looked like grounds for a public indecency order.
Leon raised his hands in defence, pointing to the kiss mark. âI want this tattooed exactly there. With a crown above it. For my princess,â he winked at me, making me titter like a schoolgirl.
The two artists shared another glance before the woman stepped forward, taking a good look at the piece. She then nodded, seeming to relax as she smiled, gesturing for Leon to follow her. âCome on back, and weâll get started.â
Leon pulled me with him behind the red velvet curtain, into the main studio, which had more of that dark red paintwork, with an accent wall of exposed brownstone brick. More prints lined the walls, all signed with the same signature as the ones out front. As the woman wiped down the chair and gestured for Leon to lie down, I piped up. âIs this your store, then?â
âMhm,â the woman hummed, balling up the blue paper towel and tossing it toward the nearby trash can. âMine and my brotherâs. Iâm India. The man out there is Jonah. Weâre both artists here, but he also mans the desk a lot more than I do.â
âI see.â
India pulled out a pad and paper from her little tableau, sketching out the kiss mark and adding a small crown design on top, slightly tilted like an angelâs halo. She showed the design to Leon, who nodded at it.
âDo you see a lot of clients?â
âA few. You thinking of getting one yourself? To match your boyfriend here?â
I stammered, scratching the back of my neck with an awkward smile. I really shouldnât get oneâClaire would definitely kill me if I did. After all, a tattoo wasnât something that could be easily hidden. Especially if the meaning behind it was related to Leon in some way.
But maybe if it didn't⌠âMaybe. I have something in mind.â
âYou do?â India raised an eyebrow, motioning for her brother to come over. âJonah, this girl wants something done. Can you do her?â
Jonah shrugged, turning on his heels and crooking his fingers, beckoning for me to follow. âSure.â
He led me through to a different studio that was just next door, down a small hallway. It was pretty much identical to the first room, though different prints lined the walls, and the wallpaper had a dirtier brickwork to it. The prints were still just as nice as Indiaâs, but rather than focus on animals or people, Jonahâs pieces seemed to center around geometric shapes or word art.
happy raccoon city day to all my besties. n im also headcanoning that sept 30th is leonâs bday (because why not give the man more trauma in his life) so :3 woo
full chapter here! đ¤
ps: when this fic is done i'm gonna go on a little posting hiatus until i finish the next fic in the series. will explain more when i get there.
I opened my eyes to that familiar room. Four orange walls that were covered in posters. A squeaky bed and furniture that was falling apart. The sun leaking through the curtains and painting strips of pale yellow across the room as if this were any other day.
I didn't need to roll over and check the date or the time like when I was last here. I knew exactly when it was, and where I was. I also knew that I wouldn't be getting out of here any time soon. Iâd be reliving this hell for eternity, or however long it took for the virus that was swimming around in my bloodstream to reanimate me and turn me into a lifeless drone, stuck in my own body and forced to watch on as Leon put that final bullet in my brain.
I wouldn't ever forget the way heâd lookedâor the way heâd soundedâwhen I'd died. Iâd never in my life seen that face before, or heard such a dark scream leave him.
And I never wanted to see or hear it again.
I didn't wait in my room this time around, putting off the inevitable. I faced it head-on. I wasn't afraid anymore, because I knew what was coming.
How many times would I go through this sequence before I reanimated? Twice? Three times?
Furthermore, would I see what Iâd seen the last time I was here? Leon pointing a gun in my face to protect himself and Selene?
When I got downstairs, my toes pressing hard into the old carpet, something felt off. My gut clenched with warning as my hand curled around the banister. The rotting stench of decaying flesh didn't fill my nose. Instead, I could smell bacon, toast, and sausages. The whines and whimpers of dying animals or the animalistic growls of my zombified parents didn't tickle my eardrums. I could hear the sizzle of food, and the soft laughter of a woman watching something on the television.
What was going on?
I got to the end of the hallway, tentatively poking my head around the doorway to take in the scene before me; hands clenched tight into fists, my nails digging into my palms to ensure I wasnât dreaming.
Dad was standing in the kitchen, working away in front of the stove. A dish towel was slung over one of his thick shoulders, his white t-shirt damp with sweat as he pushed something around in the frying pan, his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back neatly. On the couch in the lounge area, Mum sat on the grey leather couch, her crowâs feet prominent as she giggled away at some kind of morning TV showâone of those panel-esque gossip shows. An army of white fluffy dogs surrounded her, all of them peacefully quiet.
They looked different. Their skin wasn't grey or necrotic. They were alive. Full of colour. Human.
One of the dogsâTeddy, the cutest of the bunch and my favourite, as much as I loved the rest of themâlifted his head and barked at me, which alerted the others. They slid off the couch one by one, trotting over to me with wagging tails and tongues. I let out a soft squeak of relief, bending down and giving them tear-streaked head rubs, kissing and nuzzling each other as they all tried to lick my face at once.
They were alive too. All five of themâsix, as around the corner of the wrap-around pine counter, the old boy in the Burberry-style collar trudged slowly. He hadn't been among the other dogs that dayâheâd died the year before everything happened.
âThere she is. Lie-in, as per usual.â A booming chuckle echoed over the sound of food preparation. Dad shook his head with a fond smile, his own set of crowâs feet dimpling his face.
âLet her have one, Mart. She looks knackered,â a warm female voice tutted back.
Mumâs affectionate dark eyes warmed my soul as I pushed through the needy congregation of fur and threw myself into her arms, a sob bursting out of me as I curled myself into her, squeezing her so tight she nearly burst.
She laughed, patting my back and rubbing it gently. âHey, my girl. Itâs so good to see you.â
âWe were wondering if you were ever gonna get out of that bed,â Dad joked, still teasing about my lie-in.
âI missed you both so much,â I whispered, sniffling hard. I was definitely being a bit of a baby at that momentâsnot dripping down my chin and salty tears filling my mouth as they streamed down my cheeks without a chance in ever stoppingâbut I was allowed that, wasn't I? This was the first time I had seen my parents so alive. Iâd missed it.
âWeâve been right here waiting for you. Itâs not like we were halfway across the worldâwell, perhaps we were, knowing your life.â Mum pinched my side cheekily.
I pulled back, shaking my head and wiping the sticky snot away with the back of my arm. âYouâre both dead. These lot too,â I said, gesturing to the dogs; all of them trying to clamber onto my lap and smother away my aching heart. âI⌠I killed you. All those years ago.â
âWe know.â Dad had abandoned his cooking station, leaning against the counter and nodding somberly at me. His face shifted into something fond when one of the dogsâMissy, with her cherubic little face and adorably plump bodyâjumped onto the countertop in search of affection. He hefted the wriggling animal up into his arms, carrying it around and plonking down on the couch beside me, letting out a heavy sigh as his smile slowly dropped.
âWe know weâre dead.â
âThis is the morning we died. The before,â Mum said gently.
âBefore?â I asked, tilting my head to the side in confusion.
âBefore you saw us in that state,â Mum explained, shifting uncomfortably as she met my Dadâs guilty expression. âYour dad had turned first. Went out for his morning run, came back and grabbed a glass to get water from the tapââ
âYou only ever used to drink bottled water,â I gasped, a memory from before flashing through my mind. Dad walking through the kitchen with a sweaty grin on his face, grabbing the bottle of fresh juice from the fridge and taking large sips from it. âNever straight from the tapâthere was always something in the fridge.â
âNot that morning. Stupid me.â Dad shrugged casually, but I could see it in those lighter green eyesâhe was so ashamed. He was blaming himself, even though none of that day had been his doing. He hadn't known what Umbrella had done.
âWhen heâd turned, heâd launched for me. Iâd tried to get away, but Iâd hit my head. It was over in seconds.â
I turned to look at Mum, clasping her hand tightly. âDid it hurt?â
She nodded, swallowing as that shadow crossed her face. âAt first. Feeling the virus take overâyou know all this already. You turned last year, didn't you?â
My gut clenched again, confusion making my lips purse as I blinked at them. How did they know about that? âYeahâŚâ I said slowly, taking my hand away and folding both of them onto my lap. âI was injected with the C-Virus in China⌠didn't turn until we came back home. I went missing forââ
âHalf a year,â Mum said knowingly. âYeah. We watched that play out. Every day. It hurt like hell, seeing you locked up like that, unable to do anything.â
âYou watched it? Me?â I squeaked.
âYeah. Weâve been watching over you. Every minute since the day we died.â
âThis is Heaven,â I gasped, finally realising where I was. I had known it already, but hearing them talk about me like that, it was just the extra confirmation I needed. I'd figured that Iâd be going to HellâI wasn't exactly a saint, and neither were Mum or Dad, not that we were believers.
But this wasn't cold or dark. It was bright and warm. It was full of love and laughter, not despair and anguish.
This was the morning that they died. Except they weren't dead yet. Would that happen soon? Could I maybe prevent it? âYou didn't go out today?â I turned to Dad, my voice slightly hopeful.
Dad shrugged. âI know Iâm gonna turn,â he said, and my hope died. âI wanna stay human a little while longer.â
I slumped back against the couch, nearly hitting my head on the edge of the counter. I never knew why they put this couch here. âI wish I could too.â
once again posting promo things super late lol my bad yalls. anyways this is a fun chapter !!
full chapter here !! enjoy :3
My eyes peeled open to a warm beam of sunlight slanting in through the curtains, a backlight to show off the floral print material. Deeâs warm body pressed against mine as she had draped herself over me, her head tucked neatly in the crook of my neck as she let out soft, sleepy purring soundsâher snoring, so adorable.
I traced a slow line down her bare back, holding back a smirk as she grumbled and stirred from her slumber, rolling off of me and snuggling into the pillow. She buried her face and let out a low groan. âWhat time is it?â
âUhâŚâ I glanced at the small alarm clock on her nightstand. âJust gone nine. House is quiet. You want anything?â
âDrink,â she yawned, turning her head to show me that her eyes were closing again.
I chuckled. She was exhausted. And I could predict a few reasons why. âCoffee?â
âMm.â
âOn it.â Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to her messy head of hair, lingering for a moment or two to breathe in the heady smell of sex that was hidden just beneath the usual strawberry scent of her hair. Last night, weâd both woken up with a craving, and at just-before-five in the morning, sheâd climbed on top of me and rode me as quietly as she could. The bed had only squeaked a little bit, but weâd made do. We both got what weâd wanted, anyway.
The memory of last night made me shudder, and I peeled myself out of bed before I woke herâand the entire house up. âStay there. Iâll bring it up.â
Picking up my discarded shirt from the floor, I slipped out of the room. My first stop was the guest room at the end of the hall to find some actual clothes, not wanting to wander around Deeâs parentsâ place half-naked. Pulling on a pair of jeans, I left the room and headed for the stairs, my bare feet thumping against the hardwood steps as I peeked around corners to see if anybody else was awake.
Her dad was sitting at the kitchen table, silver reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he scoured over the morning paper. Crap. As he shot me with a look, one eyebrow raised at me as if to ask what I was doing up so early, I opened my mouth to spit out something close to a greeting.âMorning.â I put on my best attempt at a smile, breezing through the room and into the modest kitchen with its laminate cabinets and counters, my sights set on the coffee maker which was tucked into the corner.
âGood morning,â Martin muttered in return. I could feel that accusation a mile off, knowing it was burning on the manâs tongue. Even though I prepared myself for it, the question still made me wince.
âCouldn't sleep last night?â
âIâŚâ Think, Leon. I forced myself to say something innocent. âI guess I found it a little hardââ Thatâs not innocent.
âRight. Bet you did.â
Reaching into a nearby cabinet for two mugs, I decided perhaps it would be best not to deny any more. The game was up. Iâd lost. This man knew everything. I was kind of in awe of itâand also a little bit terrified. âHow did youâ?â
âIâve been meaning to fix that floorboard outside the guestroom for weeks,â he said, as if heâd been conspiring alongside Deeâs mother to have me put in that room. I still remember her little snide jokes and comments from last night, stating they were light sleepers. âI was going to fix it yesterday, before you and Dee showed up. But it slipped my mind.â
âAh.â I suddenly felt incredibly mortified. Not that there was anything wrong with what I was doing last night, but, to know that someone else bore witness to thatâand her parents, no lessâit made me want to crawl into a hole and die. The tips of my ears felt bright red as I busied myself with getting coffee, figuring out the futuristic looking contraption after a beat or two.
That first sip of coffee tasted extra bitter, as if her dad had soured it with just a look. âUhââ
âTell me something.â Here we goâinterrogation time. Martin folded his arms across his chest, leaning back in the chair with a slight creak of straining wood and regarding me with a suspicious gaze.
And I didn't blame him for that. After all, I was a forty-something year old guy, staying at the house of my twenty-seven year old girlfriendâs parents. A girlfriend that seemed, these days, like more of a fuckbuddy with a defined label attached.
âNow, Dee says that whatever this is, it makes her happy,â he continued, droning on despite me being unable to hear half of it due to me expecting the cops to come screeching in any second. âYou treat her right. But⌠what about your side? What are you getting out of this?â
âIââ
He lifted a hand, interrupting meâlike he could sense what I was about to say, and wanted me to cut the shit before I could spout it. âI know how you rockstars are. The nineties generation, rockers who didn't care which hearts got broken so long as they got paid. Iâm making sure my little girl is safe, and that nothingâs gonna ruin what she built. What her mother and I helped to build.â
I stared down at the steam which curled out of the top of the coffee cup, breathing in that warm roast. âI like her. Sheâs funââ I could feel that disapproval, hearing the nervous crackle in my voice and sensing an energy shift. I doubled down hard. âSweet. Funny. Kind. Works so hard. Is harder on herself. I⌠I haven't been with anybody for a very long time. Especially not somebody like her.â
A silver eyebrow was raised my way, the man waiting for that reassurance that his daughter was safe around a guy like me. âI won't mess her around. I promise. What she and I are doing⌠Iâm not forcing it. She wants it just as much as I do, and sheâs free to go at any time.â
âWell, just so long as you remember thatâŚâ There was a brief pause, before Martin sighed heavily. He scrubbed a hand across his face, scratching at the five oâclock shadow. âI suppose I trust you. But if you mess her aroundââ
Footsteps padded down the staircase, followed by clicking claws, interrupting Martinâs threat. Dee appeared at the bottom of the stairs, thankfully dressed, alongside two of her many dogsâthe one with the black collar and the blue-collared one, I think their names were Ted and Manny. Theyâd seemed the two that were most interested in her last night.
She stopped at the edge of the kitchen, looking between her dad and I. She raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. âWhat happened in here?â
âNothing,â both of us said in unison, swapping places. Martin got up to make breakfast, firing up the griddle before squeezing pancake mix into a frying pan, dumping a metric ton of chocolate chips in before tossing a few dog treats onto the floor for the fur balls begging for scraps.
I took Martinâs old place at the table, sliding one of the mugs of coffee over to Dee as she perched in a chair opposite mine.
âYou weren't interrogating him, were you?â She asked Martin, a tiny whine of embarrassment in her voice even though she had a slight grin. âDadââ
âI just wanna make sure my little girl is safe, that's all,â her dad insisted, chuckling gently as he flipped and formed pancakes. âWe heard a lot of creaking going on.â
She went red, nearly choking on her coffee. Gasping for breath, her eyes shot to me. I held up my hands in defeat.
âIâm not gonna ask for the ins and outs. Youâre a grown woman, so your mother and I will let you be that. I mean, with what you sing about, we know you aren't all that innocent,â he teased with a fatherly shake of his head. âI just want to make sure you two know what youâre doing. Do I need to have any âplease wear protectionâ talks?â
âDad, no!â Dee slid so far down her chair like she was waiting for the ground to swallow her up. It was adorable. I wanted to nudge her beneath the table with my foot, but decided not to poke that mortified little hornetâs nest. âWeâweâre being safe, I promise. Condoms. Birth control.â
Well, maybe not condoms, I shamefully thought. The past few times Iâd forgotten them. But she was dutiful with the birth control, and we hadn't had any surprises yet. On top of that, we were both clean as a whistle, and only ever slept with each other, so the thought of catching and passing something never crossed our minds.
Following this awkward conversation, though, we would definitely be using condoms. Several of them.
âGood.â Martin cleared his throat, as if slightly regretting asking that question. Something sizzled in the pan as he flipped it, the sound slicing through the tension like a hot butter knife. âThen thatâs all. Letâs, uh⌠talk about something else. What do you two have planned today?â
ladies we out here double posting lol. thankfully now tho im caught up on the schedule again and wrestling it back into submission.
heavy angst for this chapter. like... so intense that even *i* cried. but like... then again dee is literally me so i lowkey wrote my own death scene if u think about it... anyways. get ur saddest song n put it on for this lol
full chapter here!
Shit. No!
It only registered that the woman in front of meâsomeone I had thought was just another zombieâhad been Dee after Iâd pulled the trigger. My eyes widened as I watched the bullet whizz through the air in slow motion, grazing her cheek and piercing through her earlobe. Blood sprayed everywhere.
I lunged forward as she collapsed, catching her in my arms like she was a football. Sinking onto my knees from the sudden weight, I cradled her against my body.
âIâm sorry,â I choked out, hot bile storming its way up my throat as I breathlessly apologised again and again. Replaying that secondâthat shotâover and over as I brought my trembling hand to the back of her head to cradle it, pinching her bleeding earlobe in an attempt to stem the blood flow.
My eyes raked over her, taking her in. She was so pale, light blue veins bulging out across her skin. Her eyes were bloodshot, thick crimson vessels spreading across her retinas. She no longer had those dark forest greenish-brown irises that I adored staring into, the color now an ice white, just like the other dropped bodies around us. Fresh blood trickled from her nostrils, dark purple bruising around her nose and cheek from broken bones.
She looked exactly how she had looked last year in that room, after the horrors of China and the C-Virus. I couldn't forget that image of her if Iâd tried.
And now, history has repeated itself.
âLeon,â she croaked out, her voice garbled.
My heart stopped, my breath hitching beneath the lump in my throat. If she were still able to speak, she must still be alive, right? She wasn't dead yet. She was calling out to me, just like she had done last year.
âBaby,â I whispered back, stroking her cheek carefully. Her skin was ice cold, yet it was still just as soft as it always was. âIâm here.â
âIââ Her words are cut off by a gut-wrenching groan, her face contorting in pain. Her jaw gritted tight, her eyes squeezed shut as her body seized up. Shaky breaths left her through the gaps in her teeth. âHelp.â
I nodded dumbly. âIâm gonna try, baby. Tell me whatâs wrong.â
âVirus.â
âVirus?â
She swallowed thickly. Her breathing was getting more and more shallow by the second. I gritted my teeth in anguish, shifting her in my arms and standing up, carrying her bridal-style toward the waiting bike. We needed to move. We needed to get out of here.
Setting me down again, bracing her hands on the back of the bike, I kept one of my hands on her as the other pressed against my earpiece. âChris,â I said urgently, my bark a little more hostile than intended. âI found her. Sheâsomethingâs wrong with her. She said something about a virus?â
âArias infected her. Both Dee and Rebecca got it. Dee got it first. Rebeccaâs got around fifteenââ Rapid bursts of gunfire and pained grunting interrupted the transmission. Chris seemed to be in the middle of a fightâperhaps ducked behind cover carving out an escape route. Hopefully that was the case. âFifteen minutes. Iâm pinned down here.â
âHow long has Dee got?â I asked, that feeling of dread creeping up inside of me.
âI don't know! How does she look?â
I didn't even need to look at her. I knew exactly the answer. My mouth formed the foreign words with an arduous effort. âSheâs dying, Chris.â
There was a long pause before Chris spoke up again, his voice a gruff bark of concern. âGet to the roof. Rebecca and I are up hereââ
I didn't listen to the rest, instead prioritising getting Dee on the bike before I climbed into the seat in front of her. Grabbing her limp arms and hands, I wrapped them tight around my middle, doing my best to keep my voice from breaking and forcing my heart to slow back to a normal, calm rhythm. The last thing I needed to do right now was panic.
âBaby,â I pressed my warm hands against her freezing ones. âYou remember Valentineâs Day, when we went on that ride? And I told you to hold on tight. Iâm gonna need you to do the same now, okay?â
I didn't get a verbal answer, but her grip tightened nonetheless. I forced a breath through my lungs before revving the bike, racing for the elevator.
The ride up to the roof was agonising. I stared hard at the lights of the elevator, watching each floor light up as we passed it. Her breathing got weaker and weaker, her heart slowing against my back. As I gripped onto the rubber handlebars, I thought for a second that my nails might break off from how hard I white-knuckled them.
âYouâre gonna be fine,â I told her, but I was also trying to reassure myself of that factâall to keep my mind from spiralling out of control. âChris is gonna find the vaccine, and weâll cure you. We did it before. We can do it again.â
The elevator doors opened onto the roof. I propelled forward at a breakneck speed, screeching around corners and racing across what I soon discovered to be a calm and empty roof, decimated from a firefight.
Rebecca and Chris were waiting for us on the other side. She looked worse for wear as well, clad in a tight white lace dress that didn't look out of place in a wedding magazine. Her shoulders and chest heaved with each breath as she leaned against the concrete planter, grimacing in pain as Chris hunched over her, checking over her injuries whilst ignoring his own.
The bike skidded, tipping over. I felt Dee slipping and turned, grabbing her tight as we bailed. As we rolled several times over the hard flat roof, the bike crashed through the glass railing and fell. We narrowly avoided following it.
My body pressed down heavily on top of hers. I quickly leaned back, assessing her condition again. She had a few new fresh cuts across her head which made my heart lurch, my hand moving slowly down the front of her body, feeling a few fractured ribs.
I looked over at Chris. âI thought you were pinned down?â
Chris nodded, swallowing. He rubbed his shoulder with a pained expression. âI took care of him. For now.â
I sucked in a breath. For now, he'd been dealt with. For now, there was no threat. âGo. Find that vaccine.â
Rebecca wheezed, her mouth opening to squeak out a few words. âIâI saw canisters⌠in the basement. When Arias brought me to that lab. We passed them.â
âBasement,â Chris repeated, rising to full height and checking the ammo reserves in his vest and in his gun, cocking the rifle with a click. âOkay. Iâll be as quick as I can. Leonââ
âIâll stay here,â I said, as if knowing what he was going to say. âWait for the evac. Or if he comes back.â
He looked down at Dee. His face morphed into something somber, as if he knew what was about to happen. But then he shook his head, turning and rushing inside.
Rebecca looked sad too, her cracked lips pursed. Dark shadows hung beneath her eyes. âThis is⌠my faultâŚâ she said between labored breaths.
âNo, Rebeccaââ I began to say, but she shook her head.
âIf she hadn't followed..â
âYou can't blame yourself. You can only blame him.â And me. If I hadn't been so distantâor such an assholeâwe never would have been ambushed in that bar. Patricio and that barmaid would never have lost their lives, the girls never would have been taken. I could have done more to protect her. I could have gotten here sooner.
I should have.
A cold hand brushed against my cheek, sending a spark of shame through me. I sucked in a breath, turning my gaze back to her. Despite how cold she was, I leaned into her touch like it was holding me up.
I could see it all over Deeâs face. I saw the resignation. And also the fear. She knew just as well as I did what was coming next. âLeon.â
the ao3 maintenance threw me all outta whack i am SO SORRY for the late promo post đđ expect another later for when i post my oc x canon fic update lol
full chapter here xo
note: the doggos featured in this chapter r my actual doggos hehe
A gorgeous two-storey midcentury modern house sat in the middle of a quiet street, in a calm suburb nestled within Summerlin, Nevada; the town where my parents were living, and where they have lived since I was eighteen years old and bought them this place with my adult royalties.
Our rented black chrome Lexus slid effortlessly into the empty spot on the large concrete driveway, next to the burnt orange Vauxhall Mocha. Leon cut the engine, peering up through the tinted windshield at the house in front of us with an impressed whistle.
âNice place,â he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips as I heard the awe in his voice.
The house was pretty big. Caramel-coloured hardwood panelling wrapped around the first floor of the house, whilst the second smaller floor boasted white concrete walls. The grey slate tile flat roof was slightly slanted, and wrapped around the home to give it that extra appearance of grandiose size. Large picturesque floor-to-ceiling windows on the first floor allowed sneak peeks into the house and its primarily brown, seventies chic decor, whilst the skinnier clerestory windows on the second floor didnât show much at all. The lawn was entirely fake, a vibrant green plastic turf marked out by pristine concrete walkways, and a wood-chipped garden showcasing fauna and flora native to the area.
I pulled out my phone, shooting off a quick text as Leon and I got out of the car. As he went around to the back of the car to the trunk, popping it open to retrieve our overnight bags, the wide off-white front door was thrown open. A short, stout woman came rushing out, her smile wide as her dark brown hair fluttered wildly with how fast she moved across the way and engulfed me in a tight hug.
âThereâs my baby girl! My star!â She cheered, squeezing me tight.
I laughed softly, patting her on the back in an effort to get her to release me. âMum,â I whined like an embarrassed teenager.
The trunk of the car shut with a soft thunk as Leon swung the strap of my black duffel bag onto his shoulder, the other being held via the strap. He greeted my mother with a nod as her dark eyes, which were the same colour as my own, slid to him quickly.
She blinked a few times, her facial expression hardening with apprehension. âAnd who is this?â
A pit formed in the bottom of my stomach. Clearing my throat, I took a deep breath through my nose in an effort to ease the rising nerves. Easy does it. âMum, this is Leon,â I said, my voice quivering slightly as I glanced at him. âHeâs myâŚâ
âBoyfriend,â Leon interjected, the word coming out so smoothly as he placed one of the bags down to shake my motherâs hand.
She stared at the outstretched hand for a few minutes, as if debating whether to touch him, before she cleared her throat and went ahead with it, taking his hand rather delicately. âBoyfriend. Right.â She said, her voice tight.
Goosebumps tingled across my spine, my muscles pulled together tightly as I stared at my mother, unable to look away yet desperately wanting to. The nerves didnât ease at all, only spiking stronger, a lump lodged in my throat and slowly choking me.
A beat passed. Then two. I was wondering if she was about to start screaming, before she forced a polite smile. âWell, it's lovely to meet you. Iâm Lynette. Call me Lyn. Please, come on in.â It was hard to deny the tension in her jaw, her words coming out through clenched teeth. She shot me a look, one that said âwe will be talking laterâ.
I swallowed, following quietly into the house behind Leon. We wiped our feet on the classic brown welcome mat, and I caught my reflection in the oval mirror hung up in the entryway. I looked like a nervous wreck. I forced myself to take another breath and relax.
A loud chorus of barks greeted us, distracting me from my spiralling thoughts as a wave of nostalgia hit me. A flurry of white blurred toward us, dark, beady eyes flashing with undying love and affection.
âI hope youâre okay with dogs,â Mum laughed nervously, as one of the dogs, a black collar clipped around his neck, stopped in front of Leon and growled in greeting, before going forward and nudging his furry head against his legs.
Leon smiled easily, bending down to stroke the dogâs thick curls. âI like them,â he reassured, before joking, âyouâve got quite the pack here.â
âLong story,â Mum said with an exasperated sigh, nodding down to the dog that was lavishing in Leonâs attention, responding in kind with slow, gentle licks to the side of his hand. âThatâs Ted. Total wimp, but completely gorgeous.â
âI can see that. These dogs, theyâreââ
âBichon Frises.â
âAh. Cute.â Leon stood up to full height, looking around at the surrounding furry crowd, which was five dogs in total. He then leaned in toward me, whispering sheepishly, âwho are the rest?â
I chuckled, giving him the run-down of the pack. âGreen collar is Hulkâtotal doofus. Red is Missy, blue is Mannyâbrother and sister, but also father and mother to Ted, Hulk, and Lily, the dog without a collar.â
Leon blinked at me in disbelief. I knew exactly what he was thinking before heâd even said it. âIâm sorry, what? Brother and sister, andââ
I raised a hand to stop him, saying the same thing my mother had just said. âLong story.â
Mum nodded her head toward the living room, ushering us out of the doorway. âCome. Settle in. The dogs will settle once you are.â
The living room was just as spacious as the entryway, with a sunken entertainment space decorated with a brown leather sectional couch, a cream shag rug, and a large flatscreen on the panelled wall, the other separating walls of the room painted light grey with pops of colour introduced via paintingsâvibrant oranges, reds, and blues. The windows also continued to the back of the house to show off the yard outside, the glass sliding door left open to let in some airânot that there was much of a breeze on this warm mid-June day.
Mum called out of the sliding door, getting the attention of the man grilling outside on the patio. âMart! Deeâs here! And she brought someone with her!â
âComing!â The voice that echoed back was jovial, the man engrossed in his cooking for a few seconds longer before he dabbed at the sweat on his forehead with a towel.
Leon stiffened slightly, and I nudged him gently in the ribs in an attempt to get him to chill out. After all, it had been his idea to meet my parents. I would have been perfectly happy coming here alone before meeting him and the others in Vegas tomorrow, but Leon had insisted on coming along.
âItâs only right that I meet your folks, right? Considering our relationship,â heâd said when Iâd brought up the idea a few nights ago back in Idaho. Iâd told him that I always made this special trip every single time I went on tour. I took a night off from playing, spent the night with my parents before going up to Vegas the next day, where my tour would resume as normal.
I still couldnât believe that Leon had finally given us a proper label. One that only the band and the managers knew of, of courseâeven though Leon liked pushing the boundaries on stage. It was always smoothed over afterward, though. We dodged all the bullets thrown at us in press interviews, denying the rumours surrounding us and claiming it was just a bit of fun.
We were just extremely friendly colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less.
But I had to tell my parents about Leon and I eventually. I wanted them to know before they could find out about it from somewhereâor someoneâelse.
