Welcome to my humble abode, I'm Xander, 21 y/o and I write whenever I want! I don't have a schedule for when I post but trust I am working on every single request on my inbox<3 Don't be shy to send in requests or anything at all really. English is not my first language so I apologize on mistakes that I may make. Requests are always open unless stated otherwise.
Rules
Please don't be demanding when requesting
Feel free to request any Gosling characters
When requesting, specify the readers gender, if unspecified I will write it as gender neutral
I'll write almost anything^^
What I WONT write
:Incest, underage reader and vice versa, r@pe, anything without a clear consent, cheating (the reader or the character, if it's a side like an ex for a backstory then I'll accept it) necrophilia etc
College life would've been so much easier if your group mate hadn't taken credit for the presentation that you worked your ass off on. And If a random molecular biology student hadn't decided to squat in your favorite study spot.
Wc: 13.7k || fluff, both reader and Grace are absolute tsunderes.
a/n: This fic is based on this request! That I just realized I completely misread TT I'm so sorry anon, I hope you enjoy this nonetheless
I have no idea how colleges in the US work so I based everything on my experience here in my country. Anyways brief mention of Coltland twins because they're on my mind 24/7.
I apologize for any mistakes in the fic, this is not proofread because I don't want to read this again or else I might just completely hate it<\3
Requests open!
The sound of pencils tapping on the table covers the room, a few people sighed in frustration while erratically moving their feet up and down.
“Okay..flood control and we mix that with a park? There's already a drainage system in parks, how do you suppose we make it better.” A voice from across the table spoke up.
You're currently in a café with your group mates, brainstorming about possible innovative ideas– it was the project assigned to all of you, the professor gave around 2 weeks to complete things, some people complained but you thought it was doable, since the only thing the professor was asking for is an idea.
“Isn't that why we're all here to brainstorm? If you have a better idea then speak up, at least some of us here are contributing.” Another voice was heard, that's Alex, she's one of the few women in your civil engineering department– well technically there were a lot more but in your specific sections, she's one of the few that you know.
“Okay smartass whatever.” The guy who complained about the idea seemed to have given up on criticizing it.
You sat there quietly while also working your brain overtime– being a woman in a field that has mostly men definitely has its challenges, you had to prove yourself to be smart and exert more effort than others just to be taken seriously, you'd think that people giving you the position of group leader would mean that they respect and recognize your skills but no, it's because they know you try hard, you'll do anything to have above average output, and you won't put up with lazy shits– your group mates, so long story short, it's fucking exhausting.
“Oh! What about, like, an automatic gate shutter, like the ones from stores, but instead of manually opening it, we provide fingerprint sensors so it lifts up on its own!”
Another dumbass.
How the hell did these people get into college?
Whatever divine being that is controlling everything from up there is really testing your patience,
That is currently running thin. So before they add something more to that already dumb idea, you give your thoughts– when you still have the patience to talk nicely.
“No offense but that would give us a zero, it has no correlation whatsoever to what professor asked us to do, he said infrastructures.”
The idea he pitched in was innovative, sure but it's not even related to your course, that would be closer to robotics, still you try not to be condescending, but it's pretty hard when he's looking at you like you just called him stupid.
Well you wanted to.
And you definitely think so.
“Okay leader, what do you suggest then if you're so smart?”
You let out a shaky breath trying your hardest not to snap at your immature group mates, is it so hard to work together and act civil? What is the problem that got them all worked up when for the past 30 minutes all that had happened is someone suggesting an idea of implementing flood control In a park.
“well,”
You drum your fingers on the table.
“We could go with the previous idea of flood control using parks, we don't have to be limited to parks, we can expand it to schools and such.”
You could see the guy audibly clicking his tongue while subtly rolling his eyes.
You did everything you could to stop yourself from throwing your chocolate croissant towards him, he's very lucky you value your sweets and the croissant also doesn't deserve to be wasted on someone so dumb it genuinely might be contagious.
“That literally doesn't answer what I asked before, there's already drainage systems everywhere there's no point, we'll also get a zero with that idea.”
You sighed “you didn't let me finish, as I was saying,” you collect your thoughts for a moment.
“Okay so, our drainage here is made of concrete more often than not, it's easily subjected to clogging, which is why floods still happen.”
Everybody was looking at you, waiting for you to finish explaining– the guy that somehow has animosity with you (you genuinely have no idea why, you've never talked to the guy besides today) is glaring at you, like he's already thinking of a witty comeback.
“which is why I think we can innovate that and use a layered underground water storage system instead, when it rains heavily, it'll fall into permeable pavement. Water will filter through gravel and sand, the storage I mentioned earlier, it'll store excess rain water temporarily, and we'll have sensors to monitor water levels. The water that was stored will be gradually released to nearby canals or reused for irrigation.”
Your group mates were silent and stared at you.
“...which is why.. theoretically, it won't flood.”
As seconds pass, you start to overthink that maybe that was a shabby idea that you should've just kept to yourself and let it dissolve somewhere in your brain.
“well– it's a quick idea on the spot, we can talk about other options or expand the idea more to fill up some gaps or–”
“I think it's a great idea.” Alex states while she leaned back on her chair.
“It's a dumb idea.”
You knew it, the guy would never just agree to whatever you say, you already saw it from the way he was staring earlier.
“yeah you got a better idea shit head?” Alex spits back.
That shut him up real quick.
“Okay…then if everybody is on board with the idea, we can start dividing work and start on the presentation.”
___________________________
It was as you expected, the whole project was basically managed by you and Alex, the two guys who are in charge of giving the maps, flood data, and statistics. The easiest part of the whole thing and they still gave excuses on why they can't pass it on time.
“oh sorry I have to go somewhere, I'll send it to you by tomorrow morning.”
“Calm your boots, the deadline is in 1 week, we have plenty of time.”
In the end you were the one who covered their parts because you really don't trust them enough to believe their words, by tomorrow morning? Screw that, you'd bet your whole kidney they won't even look at the group chat till midnight– if they'd even do that!
.✦ ݁˖
The night before the presentation, you were still going over the slides one last time, making sure everything was in order and not a single mistake had slipped through.
The glowing numbers in the corner of your screen read ‘9:00 pm’ thankfully, you'd actually be able to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight.
You and Alex had finished the presentation a few days ago, the two of you hadn't expected your other group mates to contribute much so you'd plan accordingly, it was frustrating, but at least you weren't scrambling to finish everything last minute.
Tomorrow.
The presentation was tomorrow, and you were nervous– not because you were afraid of speaking in front of the class. No, you were afraid that the dead weight in your group hadn't even bothered to read the presentation. You already picture them standing there, stumbling through the slides and sounding like lost ducks.
Your phone, lying face down beside your laptop, vibrated.
You picked it up.
A message from one of your group mates.
‘Sorry I was busy, did you finish everything?’
A beat passed.
The nerve of this guy.
You stared at your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen
Busy, yeah right.
A tired sigh escaped your lips, rather than argue you sent one final reminder for everyone to review the presentation before tomorrow. If they were going to stand by you during presentation, the least they could do was know what they were presenting.
The day of the presentation, you were relieved to find out that they did take the time to review the slides, even then you were still anxious. That will never go away when it comes to these kind of stuff, you just managed to learn how to tough it out
All in all everything went smoothly when your group was called to the front, each slide was explained thoroughly. Nobody needed to basically read off of the slides– which can result in them not facing the crowd, which got your group an approving nod from the professor. You can practically smell the high grade that was about to be given to all of you, but then–
“That was impressive,” your professor said, staring at all of you. “Now don't be nervous, I'm not here to fry any of you. The concept is genuinely innovative, I simply want to know, who came up with the idea?”
Your heart skipped.
Finally.
You opened your mouth but before you could even say anything—
“It was me.”
His words cut straight through yours.
You turned your head in disbelief, speechless at this guy's audacity to claim the work that you and Alex have worked so hard on, as his.
You'd think he'd have some sort of hesitation or regret lingering on his face by what he just did, but no, he stepped forward with an easy grin, his hands in his pockets as if the answer had always belonged to him
“I pitched it during one of our meetings,” he continued smoothly– acting like he just didn't take credit for the various sleepless nights you and Alex had endured because he and his little buddy were too busy doing God knows what. “Everyone else just helped refine it”
The room was quiet for a moment, then came the nods.
“Well done,” praise came out of the professor's mouth. “It's a good idea, you should be proud.”
Applause echoed across the room while you stood frozen.
The words caught in your throat, swallowed by the sound of clapping.
Alex's turned towards you, her eyes widening just the same. She knew exactly what you had gone through to make this presentation outstanding, because she was there. She was there when the two of you stayed up late sketching diagrams, rewriting calculations, and piecing together the proposal from scratch, while the other two from your group had barely done anything– even looking at the group chat seems like an impossible task for them.
He accepted the praise with a modest smile, you could only stare, your fingers curling tightly into a fist until your knuckles turned white.
The rest of the day was blurry, you couldn't pay attention to any of the other group's presentations, you could just say it was your idea, actually, you are planning on saying something. It's just that no matter what you say, the humiliation you just felt earlier wouldn't just disappear instantly once you make it clear that you were actually the one who thought of it.
You let out a frustrated sigh and left it at that, you didn't have the energy today so you postponed telling your professor that your group mate is actually dead weight and didn't help in the entirety of two weeks that was given.
Once your class was over you got out of that room as fast as possible, not wanting to deal with any of them at all. Thankfully you have a vacant– an abnormally long one at that, your next class starts at 5:30 pm, it's only 1 pm…
Well, you have plenty of time, you haven't eaten, and would very much like to be alone. You know just the place.
The building that was catered to civil engineering students was huge, the same as other departments. Naturally you made it your mission to find the perfect spots to relax or kill some time before your next class during your freshman year. And boy did you succeed, on one of the hallways there's a corner that was just a huge empty box, and it's the part of the building that stores equipment, so barely any students come by, it's your perfect spot.
That's why you're here currently, squinting your eyes in disdain when someone that you don't recognize, is occupying it. The audacity! You're already in a bad mood, you genuinely don't want it to get any worse because God knows what you might do.
“Excuse me.”
The guy with dirty blonde hair, stuffing his face with a sad looking sandwich, looked up to meet your eyes.
“...yes..?”
“this is my spot.”
“I don't think so.” He said before turning his attention back to his laptop, his hand bringing his sandwich to his mouth once again.
“No you don't understand, this is my spot.”
“Pretty sure this is a public space.”
You groan in exasperation. “can you just move, I've been using this space before you even found it.”
“theres plenty of room.”
“thats not the point–”
“I don't see your name anywhere, how can you say it's yours?”
The guy said while looking at you directly, stuffing the last bits of his sandwich to his mouth. You're tired and you don't have the energy to drag this out more than you have to, this will probably be a one time thing, the guy will move on and you'll have this place for yourself, and yourself only again. Yes, right totally, hence why you decided to tolerate his presence for the time being– it doesn't help that he's by your favorite spot, the corner with the charging port, now you're stuck on the other side with just walls around you.
Just great.
You didn't bother asking for his name since you have no intention of getting to know the guy, you want him gone as soon as possible. You can't help but glance from time to time though, you managed to catch the fact that his lace had ‘molecular biology’ on it. What is a molecular biology student doing in a civil engineering building?
“You're a biology student.” you blurted out
“Molecular Biology.” The guy mumbled
“Yeah I get that, why are you here then?” screw ignoring his existence, you wanna know why he went out of his way to go to a completely different building for the sole purpose of occupying your precious spot.
“Is it your business?” he said, merely looking at you for a split second before continuing to type on his laptop– that was covered in stickers, not that it's relevant.
“No but I'm wondering how you got here, your building isn't even close.”
“By that you mean a minute of walking?”
“There's plenty of places you could've gone to.”
“Right, like this one.”
You glared at him for a moment longer before looking away, fine whatever. It wasn't as if he was doing anything wrong, you suppose you can tolerate his presence– for now at least. Even if the idea annoyed you more than you'd like to admit.
.✦ ݁˖
The next day, you finally gathered the confidence to speak to your professor. You explained everything, how your group mate took credit despite contributing close to nothing.
He frowned, asking why you'd waited until today instead of bringing it up immediately after the presentation. A brief lecture followed– more about speaking up for yourself rather than the incident itself, but once he'd heard the full story, his expression softened. Thankfully he was understanding and assured you that your group mates grades will be adjusted accordingly.
It feels as if a huge weight has been lifted off from your back, finally those pests will get the grade they deserve. He's probably still boasting about getting praise from the professor himself– along with the class, as far as he's concerned he'll receive a high grade for it. God you wish you could pay front row tickets to see his reaction in full 4k 60fps, when his grades resemble that of an egg.
Once again, you have a free period after your class– which you'll very much use to nap and fool around in your secret hideaway.
The very reason why your feet carried you towards your spot without thinking, by now it had become second nature.
And lo and behold–
“You're late.”
“You're still in my spot.”
You stared at the same guy who intruded into your space yesterday, still in the same corner. Your favorite corner.
“You really want to argue about that again?”
“No, I'm in a good mood.” You stated before sitting down opposite from him, same position as yesterday.
“Care to share?” The guy, who has his glasses hanging on his face weirdly, it's definitely a choice you give him that.
“I don't trust strangers.”
He stared at you with a deadpan look, his fingers halting from typing on his laptop.
“...Grace,”
“What?”
“Ryland Grace.”
Now it's your turn to give him a deadpan look.
“This feels weird.”
“Just what happened in your life that making friends is weird for you?”
“Who said I want to be friends with you?”
Grace, now that you know his name– rolled his eyes at your retort before putting his attention back to his laptop.
You mumbled something quietly.
“What?” Grace looked up at you, at that you finally stated your name..reluctantly, atleast you try to make it sound like it.
“It was not nice meeting you.” Grace muttered under his breath.
“Hey!”
Grace had become a frequent visitor of your self proclaimed hideaway, if you can even call him visitor because at this point, might as well be another member based on how often he would be there.
Thanks to the strange coincidence of your schedules lining up, you always seemed to run into him during your free periods.
You were annoyed, sure but for the most part, Grace never really bothered you unless you started it– which more often than not, ended up in the two of you bickering, you don't know just how things had become this way.
You were so insistent on driving him away when you first met him, but after weeks of silent companionship, the way he never stepped over your line and vice versa, it felt nice..you don't feel obligated to entertain him nor do anything like what you usually would do when you're on the early stages of friendship– wait friendship? No.. You'd rather cut off your feet. You barely know anything about him, you know he wears his glasses weirdly, he studies molecular biology, he loves his sad looking sandwiches and he comes here whenever he has a free period. That's all, can this even be considered friendship if you've never had an actual conversation with the person? Well he did mention friendship first so–
“How long are you gonna keep staring at me like a creep?”
A voice snapped you out of your thoughts, right, of course, you're doing it again.
“Sorry, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night.” you blurted out while your head slumped against the wall.
Grace didn't stop typing and kept himself busy with whatever he's working on, figures, you weren't exactly expecting anything so–
“Ow–” A cold object bounced off your stomach, you fumbled before catching the culprit. One of those tiny bottled coffees from the convenience store, it was cheap, chilled, and currently leaving a damp spot on your beloved shirt.
You held it up while squinting your eyes at him in confusion.
“I accidentally bought extra.”
“We're broke college students, you don't accidentally buy extra things.”
“You don't know me.”
You glared, he's right and you're annoyed. Still you were thankful for the coffee, he didn't need to help you, but he did, even if he won't admit it. Like come on who'd believe that.
You twist the cap open and let the taste of mediocre coffee flood your mouth. “Thanks, this was nice of you.”
Grace scrunched his face in disgust. “Don't act nice, it's weird.”
“just accept my gratitude!”
“I'd rather eat living worms.”
It became a routine, how the two of you tolerated each other's presence whenever you're killing time and waiting for your respective classes to start. Small talk here and there but never an actual conversation just for the sake of it, despite it all, you actually like the set up.
Weird things started happening though, like extremely weird. You started to suspect that Grace had been possessed or controlled by some unknown entity, you even devised a plan to make a journey towards the great vast of the underworld for the cure.
The weird thing in question is the sad, soggy, sandwich that's currently vacating your hands right now.
“What's this?” you looked at Grace, if that's even the Grace that you know.
“.. A sandwich?” he looked up to stare at your shocked face. (it was funny, if he had no decorum, he probably would've whipped out his phone to take a picture.)
“Yeah thanks captain obvious, I mean what is this?”
“I just answered your question”
“Why did you hand me this?” You looked at him suspiciously
“Geez, you could've just given it back if you hate it so much.” Grace set his laptop down and was about to stand up to take the sandwich from you.
You however, shielded the sandwich and pressed it against your chest. “I never said I hated it.”
Grace sat down again. “You sure acted like you did.”
“I was just confused why you gave me one.” you said before taking a bite, it wasn't anything special, it's a sandwich.
“The ingredients were about to go bad, if I didn't make an extra sandwich it would've gone to waste tomorrow.” He reasoned, popping his earbuds in and going back to his work.
“How thoughtful,” The sarcasm in your voice was very much evident. “Thank you for the nearly expired sandwich.”
“You're welcome, it's nice knowing I'm helping a starving college student” he said with unwavering seriousness.
The shift in your relationship was natural, at some point, the animosity quietly fizzled out. You still complained that he's intruding– mostly out of principle, and because you feel like it's a given at this point, but the protests had long since lost their bite. Apparently he reached the same conclusion, because neither of you questioned the arrangement anymore.
Just like today, you made your way to your spot and saw that Grace was on the other side where you normally sit– well where you sat when he took over your favorite corner, the one with the charging port.
“You changed places.”
“It's the same place.”
“You're in a different corner.”
Grace turned his attention to you. “Do you want to sit there or should I move? I could use the charging port, my laptops battery drains fast.”
You were quick to reject his very generous offer. After all, you weren't about to waste the chance to finally sit in your one and only corner– the one a certain someone shamelessly claimed as his. Well, former claim, thankfully.
You both minded your own business, because unfortunately for you, college isn't just shit and giggles, apparently there's actual work to do, a tragedy really.
The frustrated sigh that Grace had let out caught your attention, not that you want to pry but–
“You good?” you raised your eyebrow.
“yeah yeah, batteries low that's all.”
You blink once.
You blink twice.
Right he did mention the trash battery his laptop had.
You reached towards your bag and pulled out an extension cord– now there's a completely valid reason you decided to bring one, you had expected Grace to sit by the charging port so you simply brought an extension, that way you could also use it, right problem solved.
You plugged it in and threw the extension towards him. Grace managed to catch it hastily, in his defense, he didn't expect you to throw it.
“payback for when you threw the coffee at me.”
For the first time you heard the guy laugh– a laugh might be an exaggeration, more like a small chuckle, still! You stared at him in awe, man it looks weird, especially when you were used to his deadpanned face.
.✦ ݁˖
It all happened in a flash, all before you could even think about what you were doing, because by the looks of it, you have his number.
And he messaged you.
You stared at your phone for what felt like hours, really only a few seconds had passed.
‘You're late.’
Is what the message said. He's not wrong, it just so happens that right after class, your mind has decided that it needs a fresh, juicy, cheeseburger or else it'll melt itself off your head.
Unfortunately for you, your go to Burger place is a few blocks away from campus. Which isn't a problem, you have about 2 hours to fool around. (you procrastinated on when to enroll for your next semester, which resulted in you having a very inconvenient schedule, but alas you can't really go back in time to slap some sense into your lazy self of the past.)
‘cheeseburger.’
‘The hell is that supposed to mean?’
You're already on your way back when your phone vibrates, out of pettiness or maybe just for the sake of it– you didn't bother replying to Grace and instead took your time to get to your hideaway.
Something warm and suspiciously squishy bounced off Grace's head, startled, he whipped his head around to search for the culprit, only to relax when he spotted you. An unapologetic grin plastered on your face with a half eaten burger in your hand.
You make your way towards your corner while he examines the thing you threw at him, which now he knows is a burger.
“Is this poisoned?”
“Why is that the first thing you ask when I just gave you a burger out of the goodness of my heart?”
Grace raised his eyebrows before taking a bite, still looking at you suspiciously. For a guy that just asked if the burger was poisoned, he sure is devouring it like there's no tomorrow.
As usual, once you sat down and got your things out. You pulled the extension cord from your bag, you plugged it into the wall before throwing the cord towards Grace.
Without missing a beat nor taking his eyes off his laptop, he caught it midair.
Not a single word was exchanged, you connected your charger, he connected his. Without even realizing it, this whole thing had become a routine for the both of you.
“What”
“What?” you lifted your gaze from your laptop to Grace.
“You just sighed four times in the span of one minute.” He says, at the surface it does sound like he's annoyed but you know him enough to know the difference between his tones.
“oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
“Nothing really, just that the guy I was paired up with is the same guy that took credit for my work back then.” A sigh leaving your mouth once more.
“Took credit?” Grace was now looking at you directly, his laptop moved just a tiny bit to the side. “Yeah well, we had this whole presentation thing, ideas for innovation and I thought of an idea and we sorta just built around it. I'm not taking credit for the whole thing, Alex, my other group mate helped me throughout. I already talked to the professor and everything, it's solved.”
You hadn't realized it but for the past 10 minutes or so, you've been rambling, finally letting out all your frustration, (and possible hatred) towards that guy, sure the whole thing was already solved, he got a bad grade but even then, you still got humiliated, he still got praised, it still happened.
“And then he just–”
Your words halted.
Grace was staring.
Not absentmindedly like when people are waiting for someone to finish talking so they can finally go back to their own business, no, he was focused. His eyes followed every expression that crossed your face.
“What?” You ask.
“Hm?”
“You've been staring.”
“I've been listening.”
“That's somehow worse…”
Grace blinked. “How?” You shuffled awkwardly while your head slumped against the wall. “I feel like I'm being analyzed.” That earned a quiet huff of amusement from him. “I study cells, not people.”
You hummed. “You sure?”
“I'm fairly certain.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“Keep going.” Grace says, breaking the silence that suddenly intruded itself into your ramblings.
“I forgot where I was.”
“You were talking about wanting to stab him with a stick and roll him around in a fire like a kebab.”
You clicked your tongue. “right..right right right.”
A beat passed.
“I was just frustrated about the whole thing, I don't even care about the praise, I just hated that he got to harvest the fruit of my labor.”
“That metaphor is terrible.”
“Hey!” you huff, still stumped. “...you were actually listening, thanks.” After getting the words out, you found yourself unable to meet his gaze. Your eyes settled anywhere but him.
“Of course, why wouldn't I.”
.✦ ݁˖
The day was exhausting, like any other, which is why you immediately collided with your bed, hugging your pillow and seemingly melting in it. Never mind the fact that you still haven't changed your clothes, nor taken off your shoes.
There's just some days that you absolutely should just be lazy and not let your body do anything else but lay down. For the amount of work you've had to do for the past week, you definitely deserve it, more so since you had to endure that guy who loves taking credit for others' work, for a full 4 days. As expected, he didn't bother doing anything once again.
You also didn't forget to talk Grace's ears off about absolutely any inconvenience that you've had to experience, after that day where you accidentally talked for longer than you had expected– Grace was there listening. Not annoyed, he also didn't give any fake sympathy or some lame advice that you've probably heard a million times. He simply listened, and that helped you more than anything he could've possibly done that day.
It was hard to deny now, you feel comfortable around Grace.
Something that would probably send you into a coma if you told that to your past self, the guy that stole your designated spot? Him? You don't mind him now?
Only a few weeks had passed since your first meeting, but for some reason, you couldn't imagine your day without seeing Grace, even a simple text would do– anything as long as the two of you have some sort of interaction.
The fact that you had less energy than usual whenever your free period didn't match with his didn't go unnoticed. Neither did the way your mood soured on days packed with nothing but back to back classes that not only drained you but also irritated the living crap out of you. Was it because you didn't get to visit your hideaway? Probably. You refused to acknowledge the real reason– that you long to spend time with him.
You really can't go a day without having some sort of interaction with your friend.
Yeah friend.
This is getting ridiculous.
Another thing that's ridiculous is that you're currently staring at your phone, totally not waiting for a certain someone to message you.
Yeah definitely not, you're just checking your phone. Repeatedly.
Entirely coincidentally.
The fact that each glance ended with a tiny ache of disappointment had absolutely nothing to do with him.
Probably.
With an exasperated sigh, you closed your phone and tossed it somewhere on the bed.
You had assignments to finish, and staring at your previous chats with Grace isn't going to make him magically pop up and chat.
Not even a minute later your phone buzzed. Your eyes darted towards it before you could stop yourself, talk about magic.
‘you busy?’
A message from Grace that definitely did not make your mood better.
‘yeah’
‘liar, your chat bubble kept popping up earlier’
Oh. Right, it pops up when the keyboard is up even if I'm not typing anything. Who the hell thought that was a good idea?
As you were about to type back, your hand slipped, the phone landing straight on your face.
“Ow..” you rubbed your nose with one hand while reaching for your phone with the other.
The pain was replaced by something much, much worse.
‘Calling Ryland Grace…..’
“No..”
You panicked and quickly tried to press the end call button, but before you even get to press it–
“What's up?”
Too late, his voice answered from the other end.
“I think the ceiling.”
“Real smart of you, I didn't know that.”
A brief pause hung in the air.
“You pressed, call by mistake didn't you?” Grace spoke up, breaking the unbearable silence.
“yeah..”
“why don't you hang up then.”
“I don't want to.”
“hm.”
Another silence, neither of you moving to end the call.
“I got paired with an idiot today, I had to do most of his work.” Grace muttered.
“What's up with people not taking college seriously, do they think it's like high school or something.”
“Well, to be fair he wanted to help,”
“what.”
“I was just impatient, that's why I did his work for him.”
You rolled to your side, tucking a pillow between your legs. “Who would've known there are actually people out there willingly doing other people's work.” you chuckled.
“I really wasn't in the mood to be patient earlier.”
“hm what a coincidence, neither was I.”
The two of you don't acknowledge the reason why.
You know why.
He does too.
Conversation flowed naturally, everything you've wanted to say earlier was said, and Grace was right there to hear it. What surprised you the most was how talkative he was on the phone.
When it was the two of you in your hideaway, most of the talking was done by you, and Grace would reply, he would make snarky comments here and there and would often bicker with you– but never actually initiated and talked about himself.
Now though, you were starting to learn more about Grace, you didn't even have to ask, once he got talking, the stories just kept coming.
Surprisingly he'd been on the Dean's list every semester. You hadn't expected the guy you're hanging out with to be such an academic overachiever.
Or maybe he really is just that smart.
“Why are you surprised?”
“Can't a girl be surprised?”
He let out a skeptical hum. “You just think I'm stupid.”
“You said it, not me.”
As it turned out, he also has a twin brother. You remind yourself to pester Grace for pictures later– not that you expected them to look all that different, you're just curious whether their personalities were anything alike.
Almost three hours had passed before either of you realized it, you were still laying on your bed like a starfish, wearing the same clothes you went to school with, shoes and all.
You could only convince yourself for so long. If you really think about it, you wouldn't spend that much time with someone you don't enjoy talking to– sure you call your friends occasionally and it would last hours, but this is different. It feels different.
Hanging up during calls with your friends was easy, you can call each other again in the morning. What's the big deal? But now you really don't want to, you're dreading the moment this call has to end.
You went quiet. Grace's voice was still on the other side of the phone, talking about some work that irritated him.
You stared at the ceiling.
You stared some more.
A realization hit you like a bucket full of ice had just been dumped on you.
“hello..?”
Grace's voice pulled you right out of your internal crisis.
“oh yes hi, totally listening by the way.”
“No you weren't.”
“Who are you to dictate whether I'm listening or not?”
“What did I say then?”
He's unfair. Really unfair, he should be punished for acting like this–
“Have I told you just how much your glasses suits you?”
“Yeah you weren't listening.”
The two of you bickered back and forth, neither willing to let the other have the last word.
“You know,” Grace said after a glance at the time. “It's almost midnight.”
“Mhm you're right about that one, want a medal?”
Neither of you made any move to hang up.
As more time passed, words became less frequent, replaced by the occasional yawn and quiet laughs. Somehow without talking about it, the two of you came into a mutual understanding: Neither of you was hanging up.
With that knowledge, you gave yourself strength to stand up and finally change into new clothes, taking the time to kick off your shoes as well.
“You sleepy?” he spoke through a yawn, his voice warm and lazy.
You hummed, your body colliding with the bed. The softness of it further lulling you to sleep.
A comfortable silence stretched out.
“Goodnight.” His voice came out slow.
“Goodnight, sleep well.” With that last word, the exhaustion took over, your eyelids that had been fighting to stay awake earlier finally surrendered.
Your phone wasn't on the bedside table. It was right next to you, with Grace's name illuminating from it.
.✦ ݁˖
The morning light streamed through your curtains, bathing your face warmly. Unfortunately though, you couldn't stay to enjoy it for long– you have class at the godforsaken hour that is 7:30 am.
Your annoyance quickly dissipated when your eyes landed on your phone, still in the same spot you left it last night.
Still displaying Grace's name.
You picked it up, lowering the brightness in the process before it permanently caused you eye damage. For a moment you simply stared at the ongoing call, almost 10 hours.
You wondered if he was already awake. Unlikely though, you think. He had mentioned before from a fleeting small talk that his class starts at 11, the information just somehow managed to stick to your brain.
“Grace?” you called softly.
Silence.
You were about to assume that he's still asleep if it weren't for the rustling coming from the other end, followed by what sounded like someone stuffing their face further into a pillow.
“..Mm..”
A few seconds passed.
“...good morning..” Grace mumbled, his voice was thick with sleep, it almost didn't sound like him.
Before you even realized it, a smile was plastered on your face. “Goodmorning to you too.”
“What time is it..?”
“five thirty five.” You heard a dramatic, miserable groan from his end. “I'll need to get ready soon.” you said, a subtle note of reluctance lacing your words.
“mm..”
You can't blame the guy, he probably isn't used to waking up this early.
As for you though, you really need to get ready or else you might be late. You propped your phone against your desk, leaving the call connected as you got up.
The occasional rustle from the other end indicates that Grace hadn't hung up. Almost an hour had passed and you finally got changed, packed your bag, and fixed yourself up. You made one last check of everything to make sure there's nothing you forgot.
Another rustle came from your phone. “You alive?” you asked.
“Thanks to you.” Grace says, now sounding more awake than earlier.
“There you are, for a moment I thought they finally took you”
A yawn answered you before his voice did.
“...Who's they?” Silence. “Morning again by the way..”
You smiled to yourself, slinging your bag over your shoulder.
“Morning to you too,” You picked your phone up from your desk. “I should really get going.”
“You should.”
Neither of you moved to end the call.
A beat passed.
“I'll see you later?” You finally said, you really didn't want to hang up though, but it's not like your professor will accept the excuse ‘yeah sorry I'm late, didn't want to hang up because the guy I have confusing feelings with is on the other side of the phone.’
“See you later.”
Only then did you finally tap the red button.
Your day went on as usual, nothing really interesting happened. Boring lectures, lazy professors, (Showing up and reading off slides or not showing up entirely.) and some short meaningless projects. Seriously, why wasn't this left behind in high school?
Which is why– without thinking your feet followed the familiar path towards your hideaway the minute your class ended.
When you got there Grace was nowhere to be found. It's not out of the ordinary, there were days that you arrived later than him, and days when he arrived later than you.
Instead, you sat in your corner already plugging in the extension cord and placing it towards his side.
Now that you have some time alone, you couldn't help but think back to the things that happened last night. You mentally screamed, your hands colliding with your face while the sting lingered on your skin.
‘Sleep well?’
‘Sleep well!!?!?’
You groaned at the thought, no way you really said that last night. You're lucky Grace was also tired and sleepy that the idea of teasing you didn't cross his mind.
“Why did I say that..” you huff as your body slid further down the wall, wishing that the floor would just open up and swallow you whole.
You're over thinking it, you try to reason with yourself. That was a completely normal thing to do, it's just words. Words that friends say to each other all the time, so there's no reason to feel weird about it right?
“Say what?”
Your head snapped towards the voice so quickly, you swear you heard your neck crack.
It's Grace, he was already setting his bag down and making himself comfortable by the time you registered what he said.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Sure.” He looked at you suspiciously while his hands worked to plug in his laptop.
Silence stretched between the two of you. Then almost absentmindedly, Grace muttered. “Video call.”
“What?”
“We could video call instead. You suddenly go quiet sometimes, I have no idea what you're doing.”
“Okay.”
Grace tilted his head. Why did you answer that so fast? Now he's over thinking it.
“You sure are nosy, curious about what I'm doing and all.” You decided to tease him, might as well before he could get the chance to do it to you.
“What? No– I– that's not what I–”
“Relax, I'm joking.”
“Oh. Yeah I knew that.”
You smiled as you watched Grace unsuccessfully recover from his own embarrassment. For someone who seems to always have a dry remark and snarky comebacks, it was surprisingly easy to catch him off guard every now and then.
As always, conversation flowed between the two of you naturally. Current assignments, recent gossip, and generally mundane things such as the grasshopper he accidentally stepped on, which he admitted he felt terrible about.
You didn't forget to mention the fact that some of your friends have started asking where you kept disappearing to. You feel bad for not spending as much time with them, you really do.
The only thing is, you can meet up with your girls off campus. But you couldn't do the same with Grace. Which is why you're cherishing every single chance you get to spend time with him.
Is it so unlike you?
Yeah, but it's been so long since you last felt this way. You would be lying if you said you didn't miss it.
The moment you got back to your dorm, exhaustion had already settled into your shoulders.
You dropped your bag somewhere across the floor, you can't be bothered to act properly at the moment. It's not like the bag will suddenly disappear anyways, so you leave it like that.
You change into something more comfortable before throwing yourself onto the soft mattress that hugged your body so well, really you can fall asleep just like this. If it weren't for the fact that you're waiting for someone to message you– or actually, to video call you like he had suggested.
It's currently 8 pm, you have no idea if he's home already. Is it considered weird if you suggest to text each other once the both of you got home? Is that too much? You didn't have time to think further because your phone lit up, catching your attention.
A video call.
From Grace.
You stared at your screen for a second longer than necessary before a smile quietly found itself on your face.
You answered after the third ring. The first thing that you saw was Grace with a plate in his hand, he's eating.
“Took you long enough.” He said mid bite.
“In my defense, you were the one that took forever to call.”
“Your honor,” Grace sighed dramatically. “I was cooking. I apologize from the bottom of my heart for not calling you sooner.” he said, looking straight at the camera.
“No.. I don't think that's enough, you made me wait for a long time.”
“What I'm hearing here is that you were waiting for me.”
You stared at him with the most dumbfounded look you could muster up.
“...that is not what I said.”
“It sounded like it.” The scraping of a metal spoon across his plate lingered.
“It absolutely did not.”
“It kind of did.”
A beat of silence passed. You don't know just how Grace always manages to turn the tables, you were supposed to be the one getting on his skin! How did he twist your words to something that isn't true? (It is.)
“I was waiting for the call,”
his eyebrows raised as he took another bite of his food.
“Which just so happened to be from you.” you continued.
“Hm.”
“What do you mean Hm.”
“I mean hm, you're awfully confident today.”
Your eyes narrowed, glaring at him.
“You know, I liked you better when you were apologizing.”
“The court has already accepted my apology.”
“There was no court.”
“There was. I won.”
You let out an exasperated laugh, dropping your head into your hands. “You're insufferable.”
“Yet you answered the call.”
“Shut up..”
A smile tugged the corners of Grace's lips, the exact look that made you have weird and confusing feelings towards him that you're refusing to name.
The video call– as expected, had lasted way longer than the two of you intended. It definitely doesn't help that Grace had mentioned a research project his professor had assigned, something that he probably should be working on instead of talking your ears off about some article he saw that was ‘extremely inaccurate’ as he put it.
“Mm I think they're right, I don't know…they have plenty of evidence.” His reasoning did make sense, and frankly, you're on Grace's side. However, what kind of amazing friend would you be if you didn't try to get on his nerves and disagree with everything he says, right?
“Now, HOW did you even come to that conclusion when they didn't–”
“Well I don't know…”
“Stop cutting me off!”
As for you, spending your entire night calling Grace presumably isn't the most productive thing that you can do, matter of fact it's probably right there on the very bottom. Do you care? Maybe just a tad bit, you pride yourself with always getting top scores and never leaving the Dean's list, still you chose to stay and hear Grace's definitely, most certainly, undoubtedly annoying voice.
Yeah, that's for sure.
No reason why you'd rather do that instead of working.
By the time sleep began tugging at your eyelids, neither of you reached to end the call. The conversation had faded minutes ago, leaving nothing but the sounds of the two of you doing your final chores– the sound of plates clanking together, a vacuum humming from your end as you cleaned up the floor, the sound of clothes rustling, and so on. A comfortable reminder that the other person is still there.
Neither the two of you talked about it nor arranged a system, it's just something that you both unanimously agreed on.
The call would stay.
Until one of you inevitably has to leave for class tomorrow morning.
.✦ ݁˖
You were the first one at the spot again, lately Grace has been turning up later than usual– not that it matters really. After a while of spending time together, you've grown aware of his schedule and vice versa, it's perfectly normal to wonder about what he's doing that made him late, right? Nothing weird about it.
Totally.
You busied yourself with random stuff to kill the time– flipped through your notes, checked your phone more times than necessary, and reorganized your bag for what felt like the 3rd time. Anything to distract yourself until Grace arrives.
You don't know why you're so eager for him to arrive– well actually, you do know.
You know this feeling all too well, you can't possibly mistake it for something else. And yet you can't bring yourself to embrace it, you can't risk losing the relationship you currently have with Grace, no. Everything is perfect as it is and doesn't need changing. Which is why whatever you're feeling will stay inside.
You know, you're aware.
And that's enough.
You simply can't give this burden to Grace, knowing him, he'll try and act as if everything is fine. He'll act like nothing happened and continue whatever it is that you do daily– he'll try to avoid it but it'd be futile. Calls would become awkward, even simple talks would be as well. You're not even sure if he'd be comfortable to meet with you everyday as he always does when he learns about this thing you're harboring.
It's frustrating, all the years you've spent in college, you learned to never depend on anyone else but yourself. Hoping and waiting for someone with nothing but faith is something that you simply cannot do, it does nothing but hold you back, the same goes with relationships. Sure there are times where you'll find somebody attractive but that's usually where it ends. You don't try to be closer to the person nor make an effort to at least have some sort of interaction with them.
With Grace it's different. You don't know what it is that made him stand out from everybody else, you don't feel the urge to turn him away like you usually do with other guys– well, you kind of did in the beginning, he simply managed to break down the wall you carefully built around yourself.
He never underestimated you, never belittled you, nor did he ever questioned your knowledge. He simply saw you as smart and capable. Being a woman never influenced his opinion of you, it felt refreshing. You didn't even realize just how much you craved it, and to think you'd get it from a guy who'd invited himself into the quiet corner you stubbornly insisted was yours.
The whole situation was so absurd that for a moment, all you could do was stare at the floor in disbelief. You spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to convince yourself that it's simply adoration, and not anything romantic– even just expressing that thought made you recoil.
Grace was smart, that much was evident. Despite his personality that never fails to try and get on your nerves just for the fun of it– you can see just how hardworking he is. Sure, his temper sometimes goes haywire but nevertheless, he does what needs to be done.
Grace gave you plenty of reasons.
Those were why you felt what you felt.
And strangely enough, finally putting a name to it didn't feel nearly as good as you thought it would.
A quiet laugh escaped your lips before your mind could even register, followed by another, each one carrying equal parts of amusement and disbelief.
“What's so funny?”
Your breath hitched, the laughter coming into a halt.
Your head snapped towards the familiar voice, you find Grace standing with his eyebrows raised in curiosity, clearly trying to figure out what he just walked into– which you could only hope he doesn't think you've finally lost your mind.
“You're–”
“Late I know,” Grace walked towards you and placed an iced coffee by your side.
“My group mates were pestering me over something so mundane, I'm pretty sure they just kept asking to seem like they're contributing something important, really they're just wasting my time.”
By the time he finished speaking, he had already settled into his usual spot.
“Mm..anyways what's this?” you held up the iced coffee directly into his face.
“I'm getting deja vu.”
“Why did you give me this?”
“Yep deja vu.”
You didn't bother continuing your interrogation as to why, when, where, how, he decided to present you with a coffee– that you desperately needed. If anything you're thankful for it actually, asking why was simply for modesty, if you had no shame you'd probably demand at least a few a week. He should be thankful you're a decent human being, yeah he definitely should.
You took a cold sip of your iced coffee as your drift subconsciously drifted to Grace. He wasn't doing anything particularly interesting, he's on his laptop, scrolling and looking through things you have no idea what about. Every now and then, his brows would knit together whenever he came across something he didn't particularly understand or didn't quite agree with.
Has he always done that?
Your eyes lingered longer.
His glasses, his damn glasses that he never seems to get on right. Looking back, have you ever seen him wear it correctly? Probably, but choosing to believe that he wears it so ridiculously is so much more fun.
Your gaze drifted lower, his t-shirts that you've brought up more times than you can count. It's so outrageous to the point that it's endearing, almost always solid color shirts with some bad science pun printed on it.
They were such ordinary things.
Things you've probably seen hundreds of times before without really noticing.
“Will I be freaked out if I ask for the reason why you're staring?”
“Depends.”
“Depends..?”
“On how open minded you are.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Grace continued to stare at you like you'd just confessed to something absurd, while you stubbornly refused to elaborate, drifting the conversation farther whenever he tried to circle back and ask what you meant.
“Should I be concerned?” Grace followed up.
“Depends.”
“Stop saying depends!”
“Are you open minded?”
“You already asked that!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up, gesturing it erratically. “Open minded about what? Ghosts? Conspiracies? Are you secretly going to tell me you've been stalking me?”
You stared at him. “Interesting how that was your third guess.”
“You didn't deny it!”
A laugh escaped your lips while Grace pointed an accusing finger at you. “Don't laugh. Explain.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It's funnier this way.”
He let out a groan, rubbing his hands across his face.
.✦ ݁˖
As much as you love getting on Grace's nerves, you've noticed just how often he doesn't eat during his free periods– in other words, whenever you're together. He seems to be always glued to that laptop of his, despite it all he never fails to bicker with you and answer whatever ridiculous question you might have for the day.
Which is why you're in front of a convenience store cash register with some microwavable meals. Obviously you already heated it up by the store, carrying it all the way back to campus was a hassle, the paper bag they provided was soaked in minutes leaving you to hold the hot packaging. Your fingers got burned, he better eat whatever you gave him.
Unsurprisingly, Grace had beaten you and was already at the corner sitting. He pointed his hand towards you, gesturing like he's asking you to give him something.
You rummage your bag and threw the extension cord towards him.
“Whoa–”
He caught it against his stomach with a muffled oof, blinking down at the extension cord before looking back at you.
“You could've just handed it to me?”
“You caught it didn't you?”
“With the expense of getting hurt first..”
You set your things down along with the food you bought in the convenience store. It wasn't hard to miss the way Grace was eyeing all the meals you had placed down.
“You're eating all of that?”
“What?”
“We're supposed to just ignore the multiple boxed hot meals you just put down?”
“Unless you think I've secretly doubled in appetite, some of it is yours.”
“Mine?”
“Is there anyone else here that I could possibly be giving it out to?”
“Fair.”
Your eyes met, seemingly refusing to look anywhere else.
“You didn't have to.”
“I didn't have to.”
“But you did.”
“That I did.”
“Why?”
Your face contorted as if to say ‘really?’
“I haven't seen you eat anything in the past few days.”
“I–”
“Drinking coffee with a protein bar doesn't count.”
“Hm.”
That shut him up real quick. With a quick motion, you handed him the hot meals.
“This is a sad looking sausage.” Grace mumbled while he tore the plastic seal apart.
“It was cheap, don't complain.”
“I'll complain because you said to not complain.”
“Can you just eat?”
“I'll eat begrudgingly.”
“...”
“I'll eat spitefully.”
At his words, you threw a bottle of water you had bought alongside the food– towards him.
With Grace getting used to being thrown stuff at him, (specifically by you) he's gotten good at catching whatever object that you decide to send his way.
“I'll drink this indignantly.”
“Stop!”
.✦ ݁˖
The courtyard buzzed with students hurrying off to their classes, some were killing time by the bench or anywhere really, alongside hungry students, eating like they've been starved– which unfortunately you don't find surprising. You have schedules where the classes quite literally go back to back with no breaks, not giving you any time to eat something– these students are probably in the same predicament. All in all they're basically expecting students to survive 5-6 hours of straight lectures.
Anyhow, you weaved through the sea of students, more focused on reaching your destination rather than the people around you.
You rounded the corner towards the study hall, already knowing the quickest route towards the hideaway, but before you could even take a step forward, something in your peripheral vision caught your attention— or to be more precise, someone familiar.
Your feet nearly carried you right past them before your brain caught up with what you're seeing. You slowed to a stop.
Not because you saw Grace— that part wasn't surprising anymore. At this point, bumping into him around campus had become so common that it would've been stranger if the two of you hadn't seen each other outside the hideaway at least once.
No, what caught your attention was the fact that he wasn't alone— not that you're trying to imply that he's a loner.
There was a girl sitting across from him.
Your eyes narrowed.
“He's interacting with another human being…”
You stared for another second.
“...Voluntarily.”
That can't be right.
The same Grace that told you he did his group mates work because he was getting fed up with him? The Grace that looked mildly inconvenienced whenever somebody messages him about school related things? The same Grace that responded to most conversations towards people he's not particularly close with— with either a nod or an expression that translates to ‘leave me alone’?
Yet here he was, having what appeared to be an actual conversation.
You almost considered walking over to check if he's currently being possessed— if you got a nickel for every time you got suspicious enough to think he had been possessed, you'd have 2 nickels. Which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice.
Instead you lingered where you were, shamelessly watching from a distance.
Grace said something that you couldn't make out, probably something funny considering the girl had smiled and laughed, laughed hard enough that she playfully hit him.
You muttered something completely unintelligible under your breath, with a sharp edge like he had personally betrayed the image you had built of him.
It was ridiculous.
You should've laughed. Took pictures so you can tease him about it later, you know, something friends usually do?
Or you could've just continued walking like a perfectly normal person instead of standing still like a completely creepy stalker.
Whatever the reason may be, your feet refused to move. Something settled uncomfortably in your chest.
Heavy.
Strange.
You knew that feeling.
You'd only just figured it out a few days ago after spending too many hours trying— and failing, to explain why your thoughts always seem to circle back to him.
You liked Grace.
Which, frankly, is one of the most inconvenient discoveries you've ever made.
Seeing him with someone else shouldn't have meant anything.
God forbid the guy has a life and has other people to hang out with except you. She could've been a classmate, a friend, someone asking for notes, or somebody asking Grace for help. You know very well that he's smart, so the fact that people are flocking to him to ask things shouldn't be unusual right?
The possibilities were endless, each one perfectly reasonable.
So why did your chest tighten anyways?
You frowned.
“Seriously..?”
The words left your mouth, pointed directly at yourself.
Apparently, your feelings had decided they were no longer content staying hidden deep inside your mind.
They had chosen today to make themselves everyone else's problem.
Including yours.
When you got to your hideaway, you didn't waste any time to sit down and distract yourself with whatever work that is you've been ignoring— all because the time you allotted for studies was replaced with spending time with Grace in a video call. He never asked you to stop studying, you simply had decided that talking with Grace was a higher priority.
That couldn't have been his girlfriend right? He was spending all his nights with you— not in that way. The two of you also don't hang up when going to sleep, if he had a girlfriend, he wouldn't have been doing this whole set up with you.
Okay, so nothing to worry about.
What if it's a crush and he starts distancing himself?
No, no. Can't be.
You snapped out of your trance when you saw a figure sit down opposite you.
“You didn't bring the extension cord?”
You blink.
“Hello?” Grace stared at you mildly confused.
“O– oh right, right. It's in my bag, I'll just take it out and plug it in– yeah, yeah. I'll do that.”
He was confused just a tad bit when you seem to have been on a different planet when he arrived but now, he was completely confused.
You're acting weird.
Like really weird, more so when you handed him the extension cord. “What?”
“What?” You mumbled.
“You handed me this.”
“Yes?”
“Gently.”
“You asked for the extension cord?”
Grace squinted his eyes at you, his hands grabbing the wire and plugging in his laptop, still not breaking eye contact from you. “You're acting weird.”
“No I'm not.”
“Yes you are.”
“You're mistaken.”
“I never make mistakes.”
“Wow, extremely humble.”
“Don't change the subject.”
He continued to stare at you for a solid ten seconds before giving up, seeing that you aren't planning on giving him any answers. Even if it was uncomfortable that you hadn't tossed an insult the moment he arrived— Grace didn't pry. After all, everybody has their bad days, this will surely pass.
.✦ ݁˖
It had been four days. Four long embarrassing, self inflicting days of avoiding Grace— at least you tried to.
You don't know why you're doing this, why you felt the need to act like this. Something doesn't feel right if you tried to act like nothing happened, act like seeing Grace with another girl other than you didn't actually affect you. Even if it did. It affected you way too much that you can't even run from it during your sleep.
Which is why avoiding him is the solution you promptly came up with.
It was significantly harder than expected.
The campus apparently had a personal vendetta against you, because no matter how carefully you planned your routes, somehow, someway, the two of you still managed to cross paths.
You spotted him in the hallway?
Immediate U turn.
Saw him going inside the library? That's fine, you suddenly remembered the library 3 buildings away from you, it's fine, it's fine. Exercise right?
You avoided the cafeteria all together and the convenience store became your friend. Apparently though, Grace had thought the same because why is he there every time you try to buy something?
At one point, you'd even hidden behind a pole that was placed (conveniently for you) in the courtyard.
In hindsight, hiding behind something that is only about 2 inches thick wasn't your brightest idea. Talk about being known as one of the smartest in your batch.
Grace had looked directly at you.
You'd maintained eye contact.
Then ever so slowly crouched down. His eyes following you.
It was humiliating.
Yet somehow, despite your increasingly, hard to ignore behavior. Grace never called you out for it.
In those four days, where you still meet in your hideaway without fail, not once did he ever bring up your weird antics.
Which somehow made it worse.
You'd started wondering if maybe he's choosing to pretend that none of it is happening.
He wasn't.
“You're acting weird.”
The words arrived so suddenly that you almost spilled the drink you're currently holding, onto your laptop.
You looked up, Grace was standing just before the indent of the wall— that you consider your hideaway.
His expression was unreadable, which was weird as you're used to him being expressive with you.
“Hello to you too.”
“Hi.”
He didn't sit.
He kept looking at you while you squirmed slightly in your position.
“Do you need something? I already plugged in the extension cord–”
“You're acting weird.”
“You already said that.”
“You didn't answer.”
“Because I reject the accusation.”
“Hm.”
Grace was silent, it's nerve wracking more so since you have no idea what he's thinking about— that's a lie, you know what he's thinking about.
“I saw you walk the long way towards our spot.”
He's grilling you, and you should be nervous— well you are but the way he called this little meet up of yours as ‘ours’ made your stomach twist and turn in the most pleasant way.
“...exercise.”
“You hate walking.”
You don't know what you should be feeling but being happy because he's evidently showing that he listens to you, notices you, he remembers stuff you say that even you, yourself forgot— probably isn't it.
“Cardio..?”
“You called me over from meters away instead of walking over.”
“Efficiency.”
“You saw me at the library three days ago.”
“Did I..?”
“We made eye contact.”
“Coincidence.”
“Then you immediately turned around.”
“Another coincidence.”
Maybe you aren't as subtle as you thought you were, that much is for sure with how much Grace is pointing out your clumsy attempts of avoiding him. And to think you were proud at how good you were at hiding, turns out you simply got ignored.
“The pole.”
“You don't need to remind me.” You huff in frustration, covering your face with your hands.
“Well?”
You clicked your tongue, breathing out heavily before straightening yourself. “You're strangely invested in this.”
“You usually come to bother me.”
“Excuse me?”
“You haven't.”
You opened your mouth, and closed it right after, the words you were about to say suddenly disappearing.
“So..?” The only thing you managed to blurt out after a few seconds of silence.
“You always have something to say.” Grace gestured vaguely towards you. “You've been quiet.”
“People can be quiet.”
“Not you.”
Okay rude.
“You've also been leaving almost immediately whenever we bump into each other, anywhere else besides our spot you completely avoid and ignore me.”
“Okay well I—”
“I know our schedule well enough to know we have a few days that has our vacant period aligned, two hours. We had two hours and you showed up an hour late.”
“homework…”
“Don't lie, I know you had finished it already before coming.”
“How do you know that?”
He blinked once, his body leaning over the wall.
“You were doing your homework during our call the night before.”
Right. You did.
You looked away, suddenly finding the floor the most interesting thing in this whole vicinity.
Grace watched you as still as a rock.
“...did I do something?”
The question was so simple that every sarcastic and snarky response got knocked out of your head.
There wasn't any irritation in his voice, you almost wished he'd be angry instead of.. Whatever this is.
You couldn't bear to look him in the eyes, the way he sounded was enough for your guilt to consume you. His question sounded as though he'd spent the last few days replaying every conversation the two of you had that might’ve had, every action, every remark. Trying to figure out if he had done anything wrong that resulted in you avoiding him with your entire being.
It's not like you really went away. You still showed up during your free period, the two of you talked, the two of you called each night without fail. But every single time, even though you were there, it felt like you were completely somewhere else.
Your chest tightened, because he hadn't done anything.
That was the problem.
You were the one who realized your feelings, you were the one who suddenly can't look at him properly without getting reminded of that fact, you were the one turning every single interaction into an internal crisis.
Grace was simply existing.
He hadn't done anything to warrant your sudden shift in behavior, and yet he was the one who took the hit.
“You didn't do anything.”
“So why are you acting like this?” You could feel the slight desperation in his voice, days of trying to ignore you and hoping that things would go back to normal.
The silence felt unbearably loud, Grace has never been the type to fill the silence for the sake of it, which is why you're currently under his gaze. He's waiting, and he'll wait as long as he needs to until you give him an answer.
Usually you could out last him, today however, you couldn't bring yourself to make fun of the situation.
You busied yourself by doing absolutely anything that could prolong the confrontation, you know where this is going, and you're not ready for everything to end yet.
It has only been a few months since the two of you have been acquainted, it was enough time for you to become accustomed to waking up every single day being greeted by Grace's sleeping figure— on your phone.
“You don't have to tell me.” Grace said after a while, it turns out you can still out last him.
“But if I did something, I'd rather know.”
Your fingers froze, Grace seemed to give up on getting an answer out of you with the way he stopped leaning on the wall and finally sat down, where he usually goes.
“You didn't…”
“Then why are you avoiding me?” His voice was calm, he repeated the question in hopes that maybe, just maybe you'll finally tell him why so everything could go back to normal.
You opened your mouth, no sound came out.
Because there wasn't a believable excuse anymore, the thing you've been trying so hard not to mention because of how ridiculous it all was.
“..a girl.”
At your voice, Grace shifted his focus back to you. “A girl?”
“You were with someone.”
“When was this?”
“A week..probably.”
For the first time since his confrontation, you gained the confidence to look at him. You were fully expecting him to be confused, irritated, slightly angry, anything! relief was definitely not part of it.
Grace was relieved.
“Oh.” Grace managed to blurt out.
“Oh? That's all you have to say?”
“I remember now.”
“Good because I was beginning to think I imagined the whole thing.”
Grace waited, giving you time to finish talking.
“I saw her laughing because of something you said, you smiled.”
“Did I?”
“Don't play dumb.”
“I'm not.”
“Grace.”
“I don't remember smiling.”
You leaned back against the wall. “Well you did.”
A beat passed.
“So?”
You closed your eyes shut, the words caught in your throat. You desperately want to just blurt out your feelings and get this all over with. If only you had the confidence to do so, quite ironic when presenting to hundreds of people didn't even affect you compared to now.
“I thought…” There it is again, like some invisible force physically preventing you from speaking out loud, whether it's the fear of losing Grace or the fact that you won't be able to take it if that girl is actually someone to him.
“Never mind.”
“What did you think?” Grace pressed.
“Nothing.”
“You don't just ignore someone for four days because of nothing.”
You groaned. “Can you stop being logical for five minutes?”
“No.”
Grace waited, like he always does.
“...I thought that maybe that girl was someone to you.”
Silence.
“That's why you've been avoiding me?”
“Well when you say it out loud it sounds stupid.”
“It's not stupid.”
“It most definitely is.”
“Why would me liking somebody make you avoid me?”
There it is, the question you've been hoping he wouldn't ask.
“You're really persistent.”
“I'm asking because I'm concerned.”
You laughed, it sounded weak. “This is so embarrassing…”
Grace frowned slightly. “What is?”
You finally looked at him. Big mistake.
You really have no choice now, you can't see a decent outcome that would happen if you try to back track now and completely disregard his question. And that's the bad thing, you can't stomach the feeling of Grace being down because of you.
Because you wouldn't tell him what's wrong.
“Promise not to laugh.”
“I'll try not to.”
“Thats not exactly reassuring.”
Another beat of silence.
You inhaled slowly, then, before your courage had the chance to abandon you—
“I like you.”
You mentally braced yourself, for rejection, for insults, anything. Your Anxiety had made you blind, you know Grace would never even think about joking around, especially when you're being openly vulnerable.
“I realized I like you, and then every time I see you, I start acting like an idiot! The way you act like I'm someone worth paying attention to, the way you notice every single detail, you even went out of your way to buy me stuff I briefly mentioned the day before. How could I not like you?”
You let everything out, after all you already said it anyways. Might as well tell him every single thing you've been trying so hard to suppress.
Meanwhile Grace hasn't said a word, the longer the silence lingered, the tighter your chest became, an uncomfortable heaviness creeping through your body and sinking into every corner of your thoughts.
“Actually forget all the things I've said…can you do that?”
It's ridiculous, obviously Grace would be speechless, he never would've expected a confession out of all things— to be fair, you aren't exactly planning on confessing either.
“I'm…im going to leave now, I think I want to focus on my studies for tonight, if we can push the call tomorrow that'd be great.”
What are you saying? You loved your calls more than anything and yet here you are, stating right in front of his face that you don't want to do it for the night.
You didn't even get to finish packing your bag when you heard Grace's voice.
“Wait.”
Of course he'd stop you. He's probably going to let you down gently, though you don't think there's any way to sugar coat the words “I don't feel the same way.” anything that comes out of his mouth will make you cry either way.
Possibly.
You braced yourself as you stopped putting your stuff back in the bag.
Grace was still sitting there, looking at you.
His expression hadn't changed much.
But there was something different in his eyes, still processing what had just happened.
“You like me.”
“Unfortunately so.”
“Oh.”
You blinked.
“Oh?”
Grace nodded, as if that's a reasonable response. “I didn't expect that.” he uttered after a few seconds.
“Neither was I, this whole thing wasn't part of my plan. I had actual plans, I was going to graduate, look for a job, hopefully get a job, get an apartment, soon a house, maybe adopt a cat.”
He stared at you as you continued rambling. “You can still do all of those things.”
“...thats not the point.”
He looked away for a brief second then back at you. “When did you realize?”
“Like..a week or so I guess, I didn't keep track.”
“That explains a lot.”
“I'm glad my emotional collapse was educational.”
The corner of his lips twitched, it was barely there but you caught it. “You've been hiding from me because you like me?”
“Please stop saying it out loud…”
“That's inefficient.”
Silence stretched between the two of you once again.
“I thought you were upset with me.” Grace muttered under his breath. “I kept thinking about what I might’ve said.”
“Grace…”
He looked down at his hands before quietly admitting. “I missed you, I didn't like not talking to you.”
He looked back up, his eyes met yours.
“And..”
A pause.
“I like you too.”
You felt your breath escape as if somebody had punched it right out of you.
“What..?”
“I like you.”
“No, no. I heard you, I'm just—” you frowned. “questioning if this is real or not.”
“Why?”
“Because this wasn't supposed to happen.”
“What was supposed to happen?”
“You reject me.”
“Why?”
“Closure”
“That sounds unpleasant.”
A laugh escaped your lips, a real one this time. You subtly pinched your arm just in case all of this is just some sick and twisted dream your mind is showing you— telling you that this would've been a great experience, a nice outcome, but in reality he'll never reciprocate your feelings.
But the pain stung.
Nothing faded, you're still here, Grace is still here. This is real.
You were so occupied with your thoughts that you hadn't noticed Grace had moved from his position to being besides you.
“I barely knew the girl.”
You flinched slightly at the sudden closeness between you and Grace. “What?”
“She's a group mate, you know, the research I told you about?”
Oh.
Ohhh.
“Your group mate…?”
“My group mate.”
It's not surprising to say that your soul practically left your body. “I avoided you for almost a week..because you were doing your research paper like a dependable leader.”
“Seems so.”
“I'm transferring somewhere far away.”
“A bit unnecessary isn't it?”
“I'm leaving the country.”
“Now that's just overreacting.” The corner of Grace's lips stretched upwards.
There it is again, that tiny smile.
“You're smiling.”
“Am I?”
“You are.”
“I think it's because you thought that girl was my girlfriend.”
“Please stop talking.”
“No can do, I love talking to you.”
You could feel the heat creeping up to your face, how dare he say something like that? Making your heart all crazy right after experiencing quite a bit of an emotional roller coaster ride.
“Can I kiss you?”
You stilled, did you hear that right? You've been wearing your earbuds non stop, maybe it's now causing problems.
“Repeat that for me.”
“I want to kiss you.”
“You want to kiss me?”
“Yes.”
“As in…?”
“Romantically.” he says with a slight mischief in his voice.
“You're making fun of me.”
“A little.”
“You're unbelievable.”
“Is that a no?”
Despite his teasing, there wasn't a single trace of impatience in his voice, he hadn't moved closer. He was waiting.
Waiting for you.
The realization warmed your chest, a sharp contrast to the anxiousness you've been feeling earlier, and the days before.
“It's a yes.”
Grace held your gaze for a moment, making sure you really meant it.
“Okay.”
Ever so slowly, his hand cupped your face, running his thumb against your soft skin. He savored it before inching in closer. Unhurried, giving you every opportunity to pull away in case you changed your mind.
Like you'd ever think about doing that, instead, you found yourself closing in the remaining distance.
His soft lips met yours, so gentle that you wondered once again if maybe all of this was a dream.
The warmth of Grace's hands on your face said otherwise. This is definitely real.
Eventually, Grace pulled away to give you a moment to breathe. He didn't go far.
You can still feel his breath grazing your skin, he leaned in closer and pressed his forehead against yours.
“...Hi.” You whispered, breathless.
“...Hello.”
“We just kissed.”
“We did.”
“I don't know what to do now...”
Grace thought about it for a moment. “Didn't you have that paper you needed to pass?”
You stared at him for a moment before laughing, hard enough that your forehead had slipped away from his.
“You kiss me and your first thought was to remind me of academics?”
“No.” Grace looked at you with an expression you haven't seen before. “My first thought was that I'd very much like to hold your hand.”
Before you could respond, his fingers found yours. They fit together naturally.
“Is it too early to say I love you?”
It was his turn to laugh. “No, because I've known since the first time I saw you.”
You used to think this comfortable spot of yours was a quiet corner to escape the noise of campus, looking back maybe it had been more than that.
Out of everyone who could've stumbled upon it, it was Grace who did— a student who wasn't even from this building. By all logic, the two of you were never supposed to cross paths.
Maybe, just this once, coincidence wasn't the right word.
description : Sixteen years after leaving Earth on a one-way mission to save humanity, Ryland Grace unexpectedly returns alive.
But survival has come at a devastating cost.
Found drifting back toward Earth, Grace arrives critically ill: suffering from late-stage kidney failure, catastrophic mercury poisoning, severe bone damage, a compromised immune system, and exhaustion so profound he spends most of his first weeks unconscious. Hailed worldwide as Earth's saviour, he becomes the centre of an intense medical effort as a hastily assembled team of doctors and scientists races to keep him alive.
You, a brilliant but awkward researcher, finds herself unexpectedly leading much of Grace's care. More comfortable with microscopes than patients, she becomes increasingly invested in the fragile astronaut behind the headlines.
a/n: hi, I've been working on this for longer than I'd like to admit. the original idea was inspired by a video made by @/ Siobhan.darling on TikTok. and instead of it being a one shot, it has evolved in to being a possible multi chapter fic.
a little bit of background, this is not entirely cannon in regards to Rylands age and possibly space travel inaccuracies because, unfortunately, I am not a scientist </3
When he leaves to go on the mission he is 33 years old. When he reaches Tau centi and meets Rocky he is 37 years old. After finishing the mission and getting to Erid he is 40 years old. Ryland spends 6 years on Erid but has to leave and go back to earth because he becomes ill, it takes him 4 years back becomes even more ill on the way home.
And eventually makes it make to earth at 49 years old
(Grace becomes ill whilst on Erid and as much as they try, the eridians are not able to find a cure. The erdians find way to make astophage move quicker, making trip last only about 4 years)
Reader is in late 30's early 40s
I have tried to make this as accurate as I am able to, taking from my own experiences and research. Please let me know if you have any questions and I will do my best to answer them. Some things will be revealed in later chapters but for now, enjoy! <3
word count: 4.6 k
tags/ warning: slow burn, reader is a doctor, no use of y/n, slight age gap but nothing major. heavy mentions of medical procedures, needles, medicine. Grace is chronically ill, touch starved Ryland.
read on a03
He slept a lot when he got back, mostly due to his body being completely exhausted and the medications asking a lot of him. You felt awful watching him, he was behind glass, it felt like he was some animal in a cage, he would be pacing if his body allowed him too. You didn't know him before he launched, no one here did. But you had heard plenty about him.
Everyone had.
Earth's saving Grace.
And now it is down to your team to make what he has to live with at least manageable. This team had kind of been haphazardly thrown together, you're heading most of it along with a few other scientists, there to come up with medical miracles that you couldn't quite manage.
The best they could get in the short notice they had. Given the circumstances, you all worked effectively together and after all, he wasn't meant to come back. There was a blip that got bigger and bigger, hurtling towards earth. It was only a few days out when they realised what it was. As soon as he landed a team of fifteen people were on him, he was hooked up to machines, iv's catheters the whole works.
He was transferred to a small medical facility just outside of San fransisco, home turf for you both apparently. Although with how long he's been gone you're not sure how 'at home' he will feel if he wakes up long enough to be coherent enough for someone to tell him where he is and what's going on.
A few days of tests confirmed that he was in the late stages of renal failure, and would need a transplant soon, but he was on dialysis to try and get some of the fluid off of his organs. His legs, femur and hip bones have multiple hair line fractures, you and the other doctors are currently trying to figure out if you need to do a hip replacement for him or if multiple small pieces of metal will do the trick, the running theory is both would be preferable.
Multiple blood tests show extremely heavy levels of metal in his blood.
Mercury to be exact.
This is why you had ordered multiple tests, because the levels were nothing like you or anyone had ever seen before. Even text book high didn't cover this, the renal failure and exhaustion make a lot more sense after finding this out. He's started treatment, but the dialysis is cleaning up his blood quite effectively, so it's not on the top of his list of issues. Along with the blood poisoning his white blood cells were absolutely shot and the fact he's alive at all is, frankly, a miracle.
With his white blood cell count and none of you really knowing how fragile his immune system was, he was being kept in a clean room. Small speakers placed on either side so you can communicate, when he is more conscious.
You're sure there are issues that are being masked by the more glaringly obvious medical problems, but for now he's stable, which is more than what you could say a few days ago.
And you weren't worried about him. Not really.
You were worried about the data.
A man surviving sixteen years in deep space was unprecedented. The physiological effects alone would fill journals for decades.
The fact that you checked on him before you checked the latest blood work every morning didn't mean much of anything. It was routine, one that you fell into easily.
You're a doctor by name, not particularly by nature. Most of your work before this was based around species, petri dishes and test tubes. Having a real tangible human in front of you made you itch, it made you worry. The way bacteria on a slide never could quite manage.
You had never really fit the mould that the medical field seemed to push. Your bedside manner was never quite up to it.
You had been marked as "gifted," "promising," "has potential" and "talented in her field" and many other words to avoid the words they really wanted to use. "Obsessive," "challenging to work with" and generally "odd."
It didn't bother you as much any more, your skin got thicker with age.
"Our boy's really been through the wringer, huh?" a doctor adds next to you. Dr Robert Michales, an expert in rehabilitation sciences. He was here to help with Ryland's recovery plans, he must have written pages and pages worth, and he was still nowhere near finishing.
His voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You were standing worrying the nail on your thumb as you stare at his resting body through the glass, the lights in there dimmed, you thought the fluorescent light would be too much for him when he wakes up, if he wakes up.
"Huh? Oh yeah…" you trail off, he certainly had.
What you wanted to know is where he had been for the sixteen years that he has been gone. You know pods were sent back, that's how the sun is still shining. But on the other hand you know how tight lipped Eva Stratt has been about those pods, apart from the taumoeba, which was shipped off to every continent around the world. And if she wasn't a fugitive you are sure she would have visited your little compound the moment he was shipped here.
What you've heard from before, he was brilliant. You'd read his paper, and it was absolutely brilliant. Proven wrong by him before he was sent off. But his points were solid and if you didn't know any better you would have believed him that water based life is not the only valid form of evolution. But unfortunately none of that mattered at this present point.
Currently it was week two since he had gotten back to earth, and Ryland had woken up a total of three times, all extremely brief. His eyes opening for a few moments and then closing again, a slight stir, nothing to write home about. But the general consensus was that he was stable and moods were high that, in time, he would wake. The disagreements around the centre mostly stirred for when the medical procedures should be done.
He needed a new kidney a year ago, and some doctors urged you to do it now. Get it over and done with. Your argument is that he is nowhere near strong enough to survive that level of surgery, and you want to be ethical and explain to him what's going on, he's not stupid, he probably already knows some of the extent of what's going on, but you want to be sure. And you didn't want to be the one who put earth's saviour in the ground because you wanted to jump the gun, and push his body before it was ready.
______________________
You find yourself fiddling with the sleeve of your cardigan, as you sit in front of the glass of Ryland's room.
Other doctors say that they're never sure if people in this state are aware of others being around them, if they can hear people talking to them, but we should assume that they can.
So you're choosing to believe that he knows you're there, you're not sure anymore who's benefiting more from the exercise.
It was late Saturday, or maybe early Sunday. You weren't too sure if it made much of a difference. The building had become dim hours ago.
The only people that remained on the premises were security and their dogs.
Your laptop sits on your thighs, eyes occasionally drifting back to the scientist's unconscious form. The machines that whir in here keep a kind of stable white noise that you're able to sink into. Your fingers moved along the keys, typing out yet another update to the American government's elites. Every email you had sent out over the past fifteen days read much along the same lines with the key points being:
Improving.
Not conscious.
Stabilizing.
Not coherent.
They want to be in the know, to be informed, and you can't blame them. But you know why they want him up. They're going to bombard him with questions and interviews from the moment he's able to speak.
If they can get past you, that is.
You're in charge of this, you've already had to dodge some press to get back to your apartment. You would stay here if it wasn't for your cat, who you have recently had to hire a pet sitter for. Although he seems less than impressed by the imitation of an owner that they provide. But if you think Ryland isn't stable enough to answer questions then you can skim the state of his coherence, and you will if the time and need arises.
Your eyes dragged to the digital clock on your computer screen.
Two fifty AM.
You bring the sleeves of your cardigan to wipe the tears that had collected in your eyes, and let out another small yawn. You pulled the laptop screen towards you. Snuffing out the light source.
Your head rests against the cool metal table behind you letting out a heavy breath, pushing yourself up, grabbing your bag from the coat hook and shrugging on your jacket, your hand fishes for your keys.
"Goodnight Ryland"
______________________
The next week continues much the same. Ryland has dialysis every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
He has Chelation therapy on the other remaining days. His blood work is improving, slowly climbing up.
His bandages on his legs are checked, and then rechecked. Kept elevated to a thirty degree angle, immobilised. Ice applied twice daily to help with the swelling. His hip is less than stable, the question of a replacement becomes less so if, and more when.
Leading you to be sat in a room, with a laminated 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign quickly tacked to the door. Discussing whether a hip replacement trumps a kidney transplant.
You look down at the table, and try to focus on anything except the medical professionals surrounding you arguing, again.
This carries on without any consensus for what feels like forever, but in reality is somewhere near the fifteen minute mark, pushing you to get involved.
"Enough."
You say with a more than exasperated sigh.
"He will have the transplant when he is ready" your fingers come up to pinch the bridge of your nose, eyes screwing shut. They're restless, you understand and try to empathise.
Try.
"He can live without a hip for a few months" you say, voice staying as steady as you can manage. "if we manage his pain correctly then-"
"No"
Your head shoots towards the sound, and a scowl unintentionally appears on your face. The interruption comes from a Dr Thomas Shepard, one of the senior doctors leading the surgery team.
Your eye twitches at the interruption.
"What?"
"A hip replacement is standard surgery" he states, shoulders set back, hands already motioning as if to emphasize his point. His mouth pulls taut as he finishes his words with a huff that lands somewhere between a sigh and a humourless laugh.
"And the recovery is not standard, I'm not arguing with you about this" you state, as you stare at him.
He looks back apathetically.
Your cheeks heat up slightly, you feel it travel down the back of your neck, the silence rolls off the walls.
He's not done.
You can almost see the gears turning in his head.
"Do you understand what happens if he loses a hip and a kidney?" he persists and you can't fault his vigor.
"Do you understand what happens if he dies on the table?" you ask, willing your voice to stay measured.
"He's dying now." he states, with a pointed glare. "Youre going against my medical judgement, because you can't see anything that doesn't align with the way you want this to go" Thomas' voice raises this time. His hands coming down on to the desk in front of him. "If you keep sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, his life won't be the only thing on the line" He continues, and you continue to stare.
"He is my patient as much as he is yours, I want him to survive and I want-"
"Stop, you don't run this place you're only in charge due to technicalities-"
"He has been unconscious for the better part of a month, I'm not putting him under for eight hours to perform two surgeries, that's the end of this conversation" you say, making the effort to form every word fully, cutting him off before he can go on anymore. You try to open your mouth to continue but your throat tightens.
This isn't about Ryland.
He doesn't like that you are thinking about recovery time.
He doesn't like that you are treating Ryland as a human. Not some guinea pig that he can see how many surgeries he can do within the space of one scrub in before he's nominated for honorary doctorate or whatever angle he is peddling for.
You push yourself up away from the table, walking towards the door, feeling eyes scorching down your back you open the door and leave.
______________________
You sit in an unoccupied lab, running tests, running Rylands blood through the centrifuge again and again.
Busying yourself until the building goes quiet again, and you can go back downstairs without feeling like an outsider.
Your notes sit sprawled out in front of you, laid out in a quiet chaos between the microscope and a collection of beakers and funnels.
The far away lights of San Francisco filter through the small windows. Your hair is tied back, the feeling of it on the back of your neck feels wrong, aggravating you more than it should. Your gloved hands push the button and the centrifuge whirs to life again.
Last one. You promise yourself.
You're not sure what you're looking for really.
Any abnormalities? He's been off planet for sixteen years. Every test you've taken has been abnormal.
Anything more abnormal?
You're reasoning with yourself now, maybe it is time to cut your losses and go home.
You know why you're really here. You got rattled earlier and you're going back to what you know.
Going back to what's safe.
You shake your glove clad hands out, a small breath making its way past your pursed lips. This is silly, you're being silly.
You start tidying the lab up, slipping off your gloves and discard them into the metal bin. Bundle up your notes, placing them into your note book, bagging up the slim few normalites you found and dispensing the other samples. You gather your apron, placing it in the wash bin as you shut the lights off, the door closes behind you and you instinctively wait for the small click of the lock before making your way through the corridors and down toward the front door.
Grab your bag, grab your coat and leave.
The lights spark to life around you as you walk towards the viewing lab. You reach down, pulling your jumper sleeve back to check your watch, eleven forty one PM.
You let out a huff and lace your fingers together, stretching them out in front of you, rolling your neck.
Your eyes glance over to Grace's room, more out of habit than anything else. Flitting away almost as quickly as they had moved before you stop in your tracks and fully turn.
He's sat up.
Eyes open, hand spread out over the back of his neck.
Your eyes widen and you freeze, letting out a small "Ryland?" it sits somewhere between a question and a choke.
Your body freezes, you don't know what to do. You've imagined this moment, everyone would be here, he would rouse slowly, people would be there to help. In those scenes you are calm, collected.
Here you are anything but.
Your movements feel sloppy. Your body is not quite catching up with what your brain wants it to do.
His eyes meet yours, squinting at the lights illuminating the room you're occupying.
You move quickly to dim them. You fumble with the console on the wall, your fingers finding the dial and rolling it to the left and the bright fluorescents are brought down to a small glow.
You meet his frame again, scanning him by instinct.
Your brain comes up blank, words caught in your throat as he looks at you as though you are some alien creature, and to him you probably are. White lab coat thrown over your arm, messy hair pulled back from your face, tired eyes widening at him. His eyebrows pull together in a mixture of confusion and fear, you think, you can't entirely place it.
You move forward slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal. Your breaths are intentional, coming out in a measured rhythm.
"Youve been unconscious for twenty three days"
You pause, biting the inside of your cheek and shaking your head.
"Sorry, thats probably not-" you cut yourself off, straightening your shoulders.
"How are you feeling?" you ask dumbly, placing your note book on the desk.
He stares at you as a small scoff comes from his lips and his hand moves to comb through his hair "I've been better."
His voice comes out with a slight slur, his words jumble together but you can make it out, just about.
You nod curtly. Of course he has. Your hands find your lanyard, fingers tangling around the thin fabric that is attached securely at your hip.
You can see him thinking. Looking around, movements muted but not quite sluggish,
Your hand raises, fingers spreading out of your chest. You introduce yourself, starting with your name. You explain what's happening and how he got here.
Pausing.
And then continuing.
You do this often, you want him to be able to digest what you're telling him, not just hear you.
He nods every so often, looking at you and urging you to continue. Some of what you're saying seems to surprise him, but most he just nods with a dejected look playing on his features.
"You have renal failure, neither of your kidneys are working" you mutter out softly, eyes watching him through the glass.
He nods, a small huff and a "okay." Giving you what you need to continue.
"Mercury poisoning." you add, leaning on the side of one of the rows of elevated desks, hip bumping against it slightly.
"Makes sense"
His eyes moving to meet yours.
"Does it?" you ask too quickly, leaning forward. "You have enough mercury in your bloodstream to concern several toxicologists, and it 'makes sense'?"
"Long story" he says, trying to stand, a flash of worry strikes your features.
"Don't!" it comes out too harshly, too loud. You bring your hand up to your mouth, covering it as you step forward quickly.
"Don't stand up please, you have fourteen fractures through your legs" you say slow and measured. Hand pressed against the glass, urging him not to move, as a shuddered breath escapes your lips.
"I don't feel anything" he remarks, moving his legs back onto the bed. You do your best to hide a wince seeing him move so easily.
"Good, that's the point" you say, head nodding towards the infusion pump.
You peel your fingers away from the glass. Trying not to stare, you don't want him to feel like he's on display, even though for all intents and purposes, he technically is. You only really realise now that the room gives no where for him to go, no where for him to hide from the prying eyes that will undoubtedly be on him tomorrow. You put a mental note to try and do something about that, although until he's able to move around more reliably by himself, you doubt much will come of your endeavour.
A small breath leaves you after a small beat of silence.
"I can show you your charts, if you'd like?"
A tentative question. It might be too much for him right now. But you want him to know what's going on. Or at least have a small idea before the chaos of tomorrow begins when everyone else finds out he's awake.
He lets out a small nod, eyes searching the room.
"Are there more people here?" he asks, as you move swiftly around the lab. Picking up his report, the most recent reading, pulling up his charts on your laptop.
You nod, looking over your shoulder at him "I may be good Dr. Grace, but I'm not that good" you hum, and start rattling off the teams of people in the hospital.
"Tommorow is going to be a lot, but you'll get through it" you offer with a smile, you see a look you can't decipher play across his features, as you lay out his charts across the floor "I'll be here, if you want anything to stop, just say, and it will stop, promise."
You sit on the floor, legs crossed beneath you, you look up at him to find him peering down, eyes focused on you.
You begin going through everything. It's more to give him something he can see, something tangible to everything that you've already told him.
Ultra sounds.
X-rays.
Blood work.
Toxicology reports.
You explain everything. Absolutely everything, maybe in too much detail but he doesn't stop you. He sits. He nods, he interrupts every now and then with questions. You answer them earnestly, telling him what plans are in the works, the operations, the tests, the medications, but ensuring to keep reminding him that he is coming on every day and his outcome looks good. But you can see the flicker of doubt flash across his eyes.
You don't blame him.
He got sent off to space, a mission he was supposed to die on.
Only to come back sixteen years later, to a world he doesn't know.
"You're a good teacher" he mutters, almost mindlessly, his hand resting on his chin, legs crossed as you continue going through his charts.
You stop to glance at him, a smile crossing your face, not quite reaching your eyes. You stare at him for a beat too long, before your eyes rest back on the laptop sitting to the side of you, facing towards Ryland.
"Thank you" your voice lowers slightly when you say it.
You take a breath in before speaking again "should we leave it there tonight?" you ask.
What you really mean is "I can stay, but I don't want to overload you with medical talk."
You can also see the yawns he's been trying to suppress whilst you've been talking.
He nods with a sleepy expression "Can you stay?"
"Yeah, for a little while longer, sure" you mumble, closing the laptop screen and pulling your knees up to your chest.
You feel your lips press together when you see the way he's looking at you. He's fighting to stay awake, like a child trying to prove they can stay up past their bedtime. The sleepy look on his face only makes your chest swell more, you've been trying to keep his humanity in mind, waiting for him to be able to have his say in the things that will permanently impact his life but when he's in front of you like this it all becomes very real.
He looked so vulnerable sitting there, behind the glass. Needles sticking out from the sleeves of his hospital gown, some attached to small bags of different coloured liquid, others laying flat against his skin. Bruises litter his arms and the back of his hands.
"Were you on your own?" you ask, almost regretting it as soon as it leaves your mouth "up there?" your head gesturing up. You can't imagine how lonely he must have been. His crew dying before he even woke up, and carrying on despite it.
With all the eyes on him tomorrow, he won't be feeling lonely anymore.
So for tonight you can keep him company.
He shakes his head "no."
"No?" you repeat, trying to urge him to continue, but with the small conversation you've already had you don't think he's going to let much on. He doesn't trust you, of course. He's woken up in an unusual place with an unusual woman, telling him he's going to be sick for the rest of his life.
"She didn't share them?" he asks, a flash of worry crosses his face and your head cocks to the side, it's been a long day and it takes you a little longer to clock on than it should.
"Stratt?" you question, not completely confident in your answer, but luckily enough, he nods. "Oh no, she did" you raise your hand to run a hand through your hair, pulling out your pony tail "The Taumoeba was shipped off to everyone, the sun's still shining" you smile. You expect him to return it, but the look on his face eludes that there's more to this, that you didn't really answer his question.
His eyes dart to the corner of the room, you can see him rolling the idea around in his head. The idea of telling you a small fraction of what happened up there. Once it's out he can't take it back, and he knows that as well as you do. His eyes go anywhere but to meet yours. From your knowledge of space travel, which is limited, you know he did not spend sixteen years on the Hail Mary.
The space craft itself is a marvel, built to go further than any man made object had before. It was built to last, but there had very obviously been some improvements, some modifications done whilst he was out there. The material looked normal enough at a glance but you'd heard whispers that it was something extraterrestrial. The ship was shipped off almost as quickly as Ryland was. But there must have been something out there, someone intelligent enough to have materials to help fix a space craft.
"You don't have to tell me" you quip quietly,
"I wouldn't trust me either." you say, the humour evident in your voice, looking up at him, chin resting on your knees.
He throws you a look, "it's not that I don't want to, I don't know where I'd start" he huffs, hands motioning mindlessly. A half truth you think, but you don't want to push him. Not anymore than you already have.
"Tell you what" you say, pushing yourself up, brushing yourself off before walking up closer towards the glass again. "Get some sleep, if you're still feeling up for it tomorrow, you can tell me then."
Ryland looks at you with a timid smile "Okay" he replies. You turn to grab your bag, throwing your coat over your arm, the idea of your bed now sounding less appealing. Although you know you'll need your rest for tomorrow. As much of it as you can get, but with the way your head is swimming now you don't know how easily sleep will come.
"Ill see you tomorrow" he calls to you, as you finish clearing away his paperwork, storing it back in the cabinet.
"See you later, Ryland" you say, hand placed against the door giving it a small tap, looking back with a smile. The lights go out as you leave the building. You get in your car feeling more hopeful than you have in weeks.
currently playing 🎶: voulez-vous by abba, rumours by fleetwood mac, queen by queen
✮⋆˙ cross posted to ao3!
tags: mutual pining, slow burn, idiots in love, fluff and eventual smut, multiple parts, light sub!holland
Holland March never really thought of himself to be a lucky man. Until he met you, that is. Sure, he had been in countless situations over the last few years that would make you think luck was on his side, but to Holland, he was simply just invincible. As it turns out, meeting you was just what he needed to realize how lucky he really is.
part i.
You like to think that you’re a good person. You have plenty of attributes that make you a good person. The summer heat in California, although, is enough to negate all of them. Somehow, you always seem to forget just how miserable the weather can get until it’s hitting you right in the face. You step out of the comfort of your home and into the sweltering heat of the day, already groaning as your dog waits eagerly by your side. With your headphones on and ABBA track queued up, the click of a leash connecting to a collar signals the start of your daily routine.
Your dog trots happily beside you on the worn sidewalk, seemingly unbothered by the high temperatures of August in Los Angeles. Maybe you were overreacting slightly, maybe you just overheat quicker than the average person. One thing you do know, is that you found this heat to be more akin to spending an afternoon in Hell.
“The things I do for you,” you mutter, wiping a drop of sweat from your brow as your dog looks back up at you, tongue lolling out the side of their mouth as they pant happily along.
A few upbeat tracks later, you find yourself humming along to the sounds of your Walkman and looping back up the street where your house stands on the corner. As you approach the house immediately before yours, your dog’s demeanor shifts suddenly. The leash in your hand pulls taught as they sniff wildly at the air, ears pinned back. You pull your headphones down around your neck, cassette still playing quietly into the air around you as you continue to tread forward carefully. As you get a few feet closer to your neighbors yard, your dog starts barking incessantly and quickly breaks free from your grasp on the leash with a strong yank. Your dog beelines for the hedges lining your neighbors windows as you stumble into the yard after them, trying to catch the end of the leash as it drags through the grass.
“Shit!” a high pitched whine hits your ears as you inch closer to the hedges. “Shoo! Get!” the voice shouts in a panicked whisper.
Your dog is now growling at the hedge as you reach down and secure the leash back in your palm. You peer around to investigate the space between the hedge and the windows of your neighbors home when you are met with the wide blue eyes of a disheveled, startled man sprawled out in the dirt.
“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Who are you?” you blurt as the man’s gaze shifts rapidly between you and the window he was clearly just peering through.
“Huh? What are you, some kind of peeping Tom? I’ll call the police right now, I swear to God!” you bellow, pointing an accusatory finger in the strangers face. He stammers as you take a step closer to him, placing your hands on your hips in an authoritative stance.
His eyes widen as you loom over him, your dog continuing to growl and snarl at his feet. The sun glints off of a gold watch secured tightly to his wrist as he raises his hands quickly in surrender, waving them frantically as you look down at him.
“Stop, stop! I’m not some kind of pervert, I swear, I’m—“ he starts, only to be cut off by your voice.
“Cut the shit, I’m not kidding! I will march over to my house and call the cops if you don’t explain yourself this second.”
“Sunshine, I am the cops! I’m a private investigator, if you must know, and I’m here working on a case for my client!” he hisses, kicking his foot as your dog nips at his shoe.
“And you expect me to just believe you? For all I know, you could be casing the joint!” Your brow cocks as you examine the man in front of you a little closer.
Private investigator, huh? He doesn’t seem to really fit the part, but his look also doesn’t scream ‘criminal’, you think as your eyes dart across his cowering form below you. He’s a bit rugged around the edges, maybe about five to ten years older than you. His mussed hair lays in loose strands across his forehead with some surprisingly well-kempt facial hair to match. Sideburns paired with a mustache and a goatee. Or is it a soul patch? Either way, it’s all very seventies of him. His watch is matched to a gold ring that sits snug against his pinky and a simple chain that hangs around his throat. He’s wearing a garishly patterned shirt, unbuttoned about halfway to reveal a white tank top that lays taught across his chest. Your eyes drift down to his lightly colored trousers, smeared with a layer of dirt and a few stray leaves, likely from his scuffle with your dog.
You pull slightly on the leash in your hand, signaling your dog to let up their assault on the man. The P.I. braces himself with one hand against the dirt of the flowerbed to push off the ground when without thinking, your foot flies to the center of his chest, pinning him down. He lets out a yelp as the air is punched from his lungs, body hitting the hard ground beneath him.
“Nope.” You say, crossing your arms across your chest, keeping your eyes trained on him in case he tries to do something stupid. You weren’t letting him get away that easily.
Maybe it’s the heat making you act like a bitch, or maybe it’s the stranger trying to get his rocks off by peeking into unsuspecting people’s homes, but you weren’t about to just let him go on his merry way just because he claims to be an investigator. You raise your brows at the man under your shoe, waiting for a better explanation before relinquishing your hold on him.
“Mrs. Doherty, that’s who lives here, you know her, right?” He points at the house behind him with a thumb. “She’s the one who hired me. Thinks her husband has been seeing another woman while she’s out, I’m just looking into it.” He says as he reaches into his pocket to hand you a business card.
You reach down slightly and pluck the card from between his fingers and examine it. Detective Holland March, Private Investigator. The Nice Guys Agency. The card has a crude caricature of him and another man emblazoned above a phone number and address. The Nice Guys. Where have you heard that name before? You wrack your brain for a moment, eyes flitting between the drawing on the card and the man in front of you. Suddenly, you remember the countless newspaper headlines and articles you had read after The Nice Guys had closed the case of that conspiracy with the dead porn star a few years back. The details begin to settle and click into place as you lower your shoe from Holland’s chest and let him slowly rise back to his feet.
“Are you supposed to give your client up that easily? Isn’t there some sort of client privilege or something?” You ask as you watch Holland attempt to dust off his brown-stained trousers.
His lean frame is actually fairly tall when he isn’t all but folded in half on the ground. He stands much taller than you. He grumbles a bit as he just rubs the dirt further into his fabric clad legs before turning his attention back to you.
“Well, I wouldn’t have had to give her up that easily if you weren’t so concerned with trying to squish me like a bug, sugar.” He drawls, reaching up to straighten his shirt collar before dipping into the pocket for a cigarette and lighter. The pet name sends a shiver through your body, despite the fact that you thought this man was a pervert not five minutes ago.
He lights the cigarette and takes a few puffs as his brow furrows and he begins leaning closer to your chest.
“Hey! Have you learned anything?” You bite out, jumping back slightly, your dog highly focused on Holland.
“Is that Voulez-Vous?” Holland asks, tilting his head towards the headphones still dangling around your neck. “Mm, I love ABBA, those guys really know how to make some good music.” He grins, taking another drag from his cigarette.
You can only nod, returning a small smile to Holland as smoke billows out around the two of you.
“Well, I’ve seen about all I need for today, I think I’ll head out and go get these case details squared away.” Holland says as he reaches a hand out to you.
“If it’s not too much trouble, give me a ring if you see anything out of the ordinary around here, yeah? Numbers on the card, that’s my direct line. The smallest detail could lead to a big break in the case.” His large hand squeezes yours gently before letting it drop. “Really. The smallest detail. Nothing is too small.” His eyes bore into yours for a moment longer than necessary. Unnecessary, but not quite unwelcome.
Holland spins around and starts toward the street, not without throwing a wink back at you over his shoulder. You squint as you bring a hand up to shield your eyes as you watch Holland whip his head around a few times before jogging down the block to a dusty old convertible parked near the end of the street.
You shake your head and turn to look down at your dog when you spot a small notepad resting in the dirt in front of the window. You lean down and pick it up, examining the worn cover in your hands. You realize who it must belong to and a smile creeps onto your lips as you pocket both the notepad and Holland’s business card. Maybe you will be giving him a call after all.
authors note ✮⋆˙ eeek welcome back!!! this is part one of my silly little holland x reader fic i hope you liked it! <3 if you’re reading this, thank you for being here and for making it this far!! please consider liking, reblogging, or commenting if you enjoyed it, i love to hear your thoughts! :-)
this post will be added to my masterlist and updated as i publish more parts! stay tuned, i’m so excited for you to see what’s in store for them 😙
if you’d like to be added to my taglist for this and all future rygos works, please let me know! 🫶🗣️
special acknowledgments ✮⋆˙ thank you to all of my dear friends that have helped encourage me to keep writing!!! i love you all so much, you mean the world to me 🥹🫶
@cosmicyeehaw haley my beloved!!! thank you for always letting me throw ideas at you and to be the first to read all of my drafts, you have inspired and encouraged me so much with my writing so far ilysm 💖💘💖 and big thanks especially for letting me use the now holland-coveted-pet-name ‘sugar’ ;) you mean the world to me bestie,,
@larsandthewritergirl evie my beloved!! your ex!holland works have especially inspired me to write something of my own and ilysm as well 💖💘 thank you for engraining the phrase ‘babydoll’ in my big wrinkly brain… big Thoughts happening here credit is due to you for any future use in the fic :’)
@qoemchu thank you for being my very first taglist request!! your kind words and reactions to my other fic and this wip have made me so so happy and i’m so thankful for you! ily 💘💖 i hope you enjoy!
