𝒌𝙞𝒎

did i make it worse for joel, being there? or was i company? | 25 , leo

[saintshiv]

masterlist!

₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

— remmick x f!oc

— ptolomaea series:

i followed you in, and i was with you there

i invited you in twice, i did

you love blood too much, but not like i do

patient is the night

— lion kaminski x f!oc

— vacillator series:

if you want, you can bite me

i won’t move

[bimbosicko]

IT HAD TO BE YOU

“if i get them to think i am her sister,” you say, leaning in close enough to whisper it to him, “we make it double.” ۶ৎ

pairings ! sebastian wilder x fem!reader

warnings ! fluff, a sprinkle of angst, unrequited love that oops is actually reciprocated, childhood best friends to lovers, reader is down BAD girl get up, no beta we die like frank sinatra, english is not my first language!! title from: it had to be you — frank sinatra

author’s note ! in the middle of writing this i got the flu (yes again, no judgement please) so that's why i disappeared lowk!!

word count ! 4,2k (hell yeah!!)

“well…?” you ask, fidgeting with the fabric of your dress as if that might somehow make it sit better on you. it’s a pale blue thing, long and elegant, with a cape draped over your arms and shoulders in the same smooth material. pretty. maybe too pretty. at least, that is what it feels like under sebastian’s attention.

he looks you over for a second, chin tipped slightly up, like he is trying not to be obvious about what he's thinking. he never is, really. not with you.

“nice,” he says at last. “you look nice. come on.”

you make a face. “nice?”

“mm-hm.”

“i need gorgeous, seb.”

“don’t be a brat,” he says, already sounding amused. “come on, we're late. do you want me to carry you to the taxi?”

you laugh under your breath and lift your chin. “you’re not strong enough.”

it's a terrible lie, really. one of the worst you have ever told. sebastian has been able to pick you up like you weigh nothing since you were kids, and he knows it, and you know he knows it, which is exactly why you say it.

his face brightens immediately. “you want to see?”

you make a break for the stairs immediately, even with your heels. the movement is awkward, the dress catching at your legs. unfortunately, sebastian is faster.

you are halfway to the door when his hands catch your hips, steady and familiar, and you let out a tiny yelp before it turns into laughter. your whole body goes stupid for half a second, because apparently being lifted by sebastian is enough to remind your nerves that they are, in fact, alive.

“excuse me,” he says, sarcastic.

you glance back at him, still laughing. “god, i forgot i was talking to sebastian wilder. my knight in shining armor.”

“careful,” he mutters, but he sounds amused now.

he helps you into the taxi with irritating competence, one hand guiding you in, the other smoothing the dress so it doesn't bunch awkwardly around your legs. he does it without thinking.

the touch is brief, but your skin notices anyway. you try very hard to act normal about it.

sebastian slides in after you, all long limbs and easy confidence, like he has not just sent your heart into a full sprint with one hand at your waist.

you look at him.

he looks back, entirely too pleased with himself.

“what’s the name of the bride again?” you ask, because you are committed to have the last word for as long as possible.

sebastian looks at you, then drops his gaze with a smile.

“you want to bet how long you can talk to people before they notice you do not know the bride’s name?”

you tip your head, considering it for a moment, knowing you are absolutely going to win.

“if i get them to think i am her sister,” you say, leaning in close enough to whisper it to him, “we make it double.”

——

the wedding is lovely in the way summer things usually are. the kind of wedding that makes sense in june. all open sky and white chairs and flowers, little kids running around giggling.

you cry a little when they say the vows, you clap when they kiss, because that is what you're supposed to do, and because there is something hard not to believe in when two people look at each other like that.

you glance at sebastian after. he is looking at the couple the same way people look at things they have forgotten how to want. not with sadness, but more like a scene of a movie that shows you what could've been.

“that’s a nice dress,” you mutter when the food starts arriving, because now seems like a decent time to bring it up. the waitress sets a fancy plate down in front of you, then another in front of sebastian. his looks better immediately.

he leans in slightly when you speak, close enough that his shoulder brushes yours. “mm?”

“if i marry someone one day,” you say, “i would want a dress like that.”

sebastian turns his head just enough that you can hear him without the whole table hearing him too. his hands move quickly, swapping the plates before you can even pretend to object.

“you want to marry?”

the question surprises you more than it should.

you look at him, frowning a little. “i suppose i do. you don’t?”

you know him enough to know he does.

mia flickers through your mind for a second. you don't remember much of her face. you remember her hands more than anything else. her hands on sebastian’s arm. her hand on his shoulder. the perfect way her hands looked holding into his. you suppose you grieved her too, in the strange way people grieve someone they only knew as a person in the life of somebody they loved first.

but after all of that, after everything that had made him quieter in certain places, you had thought—

what had you thought?

that maybe, after all these years, he would have looked at you and understood something obvious?

you tighten your fingers around your fork. you are not foolish enough for that. you are smarter than that, even if your heart is being irritating about it.

sebastian hasn't answered you yet.

the table noise goes on around you, silverware against plates and someone laughing too loudly a few seats away. you lift one shoulder in what you hope looks casual.

“just asking,” you say.

the music suddenly starts. you supposed you must have been too deep in your own head to notice when they announced the couples’ dance.

the bride appears again, her dress changed now, shorter than before. she beams at the crowd, all white teeth and happiness. you get up immediately, trying to get a better view of a dance the couple probably didn't practice enough.

the crowd closes in and the back of your dress catches on someone’s hand, you know it's sebastian behind you before you even turn. you don't feel strong enough to look at him after your conversation.

a girl laughs nearby, it sounds too much like mia. you wonder if sebastian heard it too. you wonder if he is thinking the same thing.

someone steps on your dress, and a kid shoves you without meaning to, he doesn't apologize either. you watch him disappear into the crowd. you've only walked a few yards, but it feels much farther. the couple is still dancing somewhere ahead and your chest feels oddly tight.

then someone touches your arm.

you look up to find an older woman studying your face with polite suspicion.

“are you a friend of the couple?” she asks.

the answer comes out before you can stop it. “i’m the bride’s sister.”

you say it loudly enough that sebastian, wherever he is, will hear. there is a known snort somewhere two feet to your left.

your shoulders loosen by a fraction.

the old woman’s expression does not change much, but at least it softens around the edges. “really? emily never mentioned having another sister.”

“oh, you know,” you say, already committing to the bit. “travelling around the world. we are not that close.”

she nods, though her expression still looks a little sour.

“where have you been to?” she asks.

“oh. argentina, brazil…” you start, because apparently lying with confidence makes the lie sound more expensive.

“no europe?”

you shrug. “nah, bores me.”

it's a ridiculous answer, especially since you have never left the country your feet are currently planted in, but it seems to satisfy her well enough. apparently europe has enough critics already.

the singer suddenly leans into the microphone to announce that the dance floor is open for everyone. people clap right away. you join them too, because not clapping would be weirder and you are trying to keep a respectable distance from weird tonight.

the music shifts, brighter and groovy.

mothers go to dance with their children. husbands take their wives by the hand. it is all very sweet in a way that feels almost aggressive, like the room is insisting on happiness. you wonder if sebastian feels that too.

he at least has an excuse. he has had love once. real love, or whatever the version of it was that left marks. your own sorrows are more embarrassing because no one else can see them, and that does not make them less annoying to carry.

you start looking for him without meaning to, your head turning left and right until you spot him near the rose garden.

your feet move before you can rethink it.

“you owe me money,” you say when you reach him, putting on your best al pacino impression.

sebastian’s mouth twitches. “the wedding is not over yet.”

“they’re married,” you say. “they said the vows. people are dancing. it's over.”

you extend your hand.

“she believed me. give me the money.”

“you are always so stubborn.”

you give him a look that says ‘the pot should really not be calling the kettle black’, and he answers with the sort of expression that says ‘fair enough’.

he reaches for his wallet. “why do you want to leave?”

“i don't want to leave,” you say immediately, which is how he knows you are lying.

“you do,” he says. “you have that expression in your eyes. like a deer caught in the headlights.”

you wrinkle your nose. “i don't like weddings.”

“how do you plan on getting married if you don't like weddings?”

you stare at him.

“is it any of your business?”

“might be if i am your future best man.”

that makes you recoil on instinct. “why do you think you will be my best man?”

he glances at you like this is the easiest answer in the world. “i don't think you have other friends.”

you huff and fold your arms. “i don't like big weddings, that's what i meant. i’m going to have a small wedding. no best man.”

even to your own ears, you sound a little petulant. which is unfair. sebastian has an irritating ability to make you sound like a child just by existing near you.

“and who are you planning to marry in this perfect wedding?” he asks.

the question snaps something in you.

“okay,” you say, too quickly. “that is enough. that is— that is not funny anymore, okay?”

your hands curl into fists. you hate when you do that. it always makes you feel twelve years old again.

“i’m sorry i talked about getting married knowing about mia,” you say.

sebastian blinks. “i— i never talked about mia.”

you ignore him.

“i’m sorry. that was mean of me, okay? but that is not an excuse to make fun of my—”

“i never mentioned mia once,” he says again, baffled now.

“you were making fun of my dreams.”

“i never said anything.”

“that was the problem,” you huff. “you always have an opinion, seb. suddenly when i talk about it, you don't? i have known you since we were kids. do not act like i don't see through you.”

he looks at you with something almost like disbelief.

“oh, you do?” he says.

“yes, i fucking do, sebastian,” you shoot back.

his eyebrows lift at that, offended. “oh, do not call me sebastian like you are all high and mighty.”

you let out a sound that is somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.

“we are not having this conversation right now, okay?” you say. “i have been enduring your personality since we were kids.”

you shut your eyes for a second, as if that might hold the anger in place. your voice comes out sharp next.

“i am at a wedding, so i am going to behave like an adult,” you start, “but i want you to remember who was the one who pulled you out of your ass when you were too depressed to do anything.”

you jab a finger into his chest, hard enough to get your point across.

“remember it,” you say, “and act at your own accord.”

then you leave him standing there with whatever he was about to say still caught at his mouth.

the bar is easy to reach for obvious reasons. the bartender asks what you want, and you answer immediately, because if you have to think about it for one second you might start thinking about sebastian instead.

“whisky, on the rocks,” you say.

——

you hate whisky. it is, objectively, the worst thing anyone has ever decided to put in a glass. you cannot even be dramatic about it properly, because by now it tastes less like alcohol and more like diluted melted ice.

around you, people are still dancing. the kind of dancing that looks charming, it would make a beautiful photo if you caught it at the right angle, but your phone is still in sebastian's back pocket. the sun has almost fully gone down, and the sky has darkened into that late-night blue where the stars start appearing one by one.

you still have no idea where sebastian has gone.

you are not even sure whether you are supposed to care anymore.

there is a growing feeling in your chest, that maybe every moment from his breakup with mia until now has been you filling a spot that was never really yours to begin with.

someone sits beside you. a man. good-looking, but not like sebastian.

“did you get dumped at a wedding?” he asks.

what kind of asshole opens a conversation like that?

you huff a little laugh despite yourself. “uh— worse, i think? i was a bad friend to my best friend.”

your words are slightly slurred at the edges, which is annoying because you don't think you are drunk. just tired, very very tired.

“that’s bad,” he says. “but not that bad. where do you know the bride from?”

“she’s my sister,” you say automatically.

the man turns his head, giving you a long, flat look.

“that’s crazy,” he says. “because i’m her brother, and i don't remember having you as my sister.”

you make a sound of pure horror and immediately cover your face with both hands.

“i’m so sorry— i… i made this dumb bet with my best friend about getting people to believe i’m the bride’s sister. i don’t even remember her name,” you say, and the last few words come out in a rush of mortification.

“how much?”

“like— two hundred?” you say. then, because that sounds worse out loud, you add quickly, “it was not that much. and he didn't even pay me, we started arguing before he could.”

“that is not a great business plan.”

“i know,” you mutter. your voice sounds small and whiny in a way you do not appreciate at all. “but he just gets on my nerves so bad.”

“like siblings?”

“i guess,” you say, though it is not really the same thing and you do not want to think about why.

“ah,” he says after a moment. “i get it now.”

you squint at him. he looks far too satisfied with himself.

“maybe you should stop lying to him,” he says then, much more casually than the words deserve. “you look like you enjoy doing that too much, even when no one is paying you any money.”

“i do not—” you start, but the sentence dies immediately because he is annoying and, unfortunately, correct.

you do lie to sebastian.

you lie about your feelings, about how much you notice, about why you are always there when he turns around. you lie about why you stand so close to him. you lie about why you never liked his girlfriends.

everything feels wrong suddenly. not just awkward. wrong.

what if this has been unfair? what if sebastian only wants a friend, and you have been borrowing that friendship like it is something more?

and if that is true, doesn't he deserve better than that? even if saying the truth breaks your heart? even if leaving him does?

the exhaustion drops out of your body suddenly. your eyes start to sting. you need to find sebastian.

you mutter a slurred thank you to the man, who looks at you like you may have taken something far stronger than whisky, and push yourself to your feet. your legs ache and the grass is annoying. the heels make everything worse.

so you kick them off.

you can feel the cool ground under your feet, and you pray to every deity you can think of, hoping that nobody has dropped a glass.

you find him near the dance floor. the music has shifted into something slower now, one of those old frank sinatra songs that you know he likes. couples are starting to sway to the rhythm. you hate slow dancing, too many rules and too much eye contact.

sebastian looks like he has been standing still for too long. his shoulders hang with the kind of tiredness that is not really physical. more like the aftermath of a thought he has not managed to put down yet.

you startle him when you touch his shoulder.

“fuck,” he says immediately. “give a guy a warning.”

you laugh, soft and a little breathless. “sorry. you looked like you needed to stop thinking about it.”

his eyes flick to you. “about what?”

you do not say her name, there is no need. he is testing you, and you know it.

“i'm sorry,” you say instead. “i was such a fucking asshole.”

sebastian makes a face that says ‘yeah, kind of,’ but he doesn't look angry. his shoulders drop a little, like he has been holding something. he jerks his chin towards the floor.

“wanna dance?” he asks. “you know this one. and you owe me one.”

“i have to tell you something first—”

you don't even get to finish before his hands are on your hips, steering you towards the dance floor.

“you can say it late— where are your heels?” he asks, and despite everything, there is a laugh trying to get out of him.

you blink at him. “at the bar. i— i kind of went running to find you. it was sort of a revelation moment.”

sebastian hums, the sound low in his throat, like he is deciding what to make of you all over again. he moves you closer to him.

“you deserve better than me,” you say. the words sound false in your mouth, like a script.

sebastian’s eyebrow lifts at once. “we have been friends since we were kids. having an argument is not going to change that.”

“it’s not about the argument,” you say quickly. “god knows it’s not our first.”

he looks at you like he is waiting for the part you are actually trying not to say.

“i have not been entirely sincere with you.”

“you really cannot wait?” he asks.

you shake your head. sebastian sighs, and his hand shifts a little higher on your waist, like he is trying very hard not to pull you closer than this.

“for nobody else gave me a thrill. with all your faults, i love you still…” sinatra croons, and the line lands strangely between you.

the next sentence dies at your tongue. maybe he's right. maybe you should have done this later.

sebastian says your name. you nod once, but your eyes are already shiny with tears.

“it can wait,” you say. you lick your lips, nervous habit. “it can wait.”

he knows you too well for this. knows the face you make when you are trying not to say something that is eating you. knows what it looks like when you go quiet and bright-eyed. he has seen it before.

not with him, never with him.

the realization lands hard, because he has seen you do that with other people. idiots. ex-boyfriends. men who never deserved the attention you gave them and he hated them on sight. he always had reasons to step in without thinking, cutting conversations short with a look, a hand, a careless remark that sent them off somewhere else. nobody was good enough for you.

he always told himself it was because he was protective. it was also because he was a fucking hypocrite.

when his own heart had been broken, you had been the one to put it back together. he had always let you fix him, maybe that was the problem.

because if your heart was breaking now, if you were standing here with that same shining, careful expression, then it meant it had to be for someone else.

he knows he should be happy for you. but the idea of you loving someone enough to leave him makes him angry. possessive, in the stupid, ugly way he hates admitting even to himself.

“it had to be you,” sinatra goes on, and it's starting feels less like a lyric and more like an accusation.

sebastian watches your face, and when he speaks, his voice comes out quieter than before.

“is this about love?”

your whole expression changes. you hesitate. your mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

sebastian nods, slow and careful, like he understands.

“i’m sorry,” you say at last, voice smaller now. “i did not want to say anything. but— i just didn't want to ruin this.”

“i get it,” he says. “no worries.”

your brow lifts before you can stop it. he gets it? that was not what you were expecting from him after confessing your love, or whatever this was supposed to be.

“you… you get it?” you ask, because you are not actually sure he heard you correctly.

sebastian nods again.

“if he makes you happy, i understand.”

“he—? who?” your words come out blank, confused enough to sound almost stupid.

sebastian blinks.

“i feel a little heartbroken you did not tell me you were dating someone sooner,” he says.

you stare at him.

“that is because i am not,” you say slowly. “i’m literally single.”

sebastian looks confused, and slightly relieved.

“i don't understand,” he starts.

you let out a breath that shakes on the way out.

“i’m in love with you, seb,” you say. “like, since we were teens.”

sebastian’s eyes widen. his mouth falls open a little, the expression so stunned that it almost looks uncharacteristic on him.

you give him a miserable little smile that fails before it even forms.

“i know,” you say quietly. “i never said anything because i thought maybe one day you would… see me?” you shake your head before he can answer. embarrassment burns through your face. “god, that sounds ridiculous.”

you look away for half a second, then back at him again.

“but i think you deserve better,” you say. “you deserve a friend without second intentions, and i don't know if that can be me.”

“oh, pretty…” he says, and his voice sounds soft around the edges in a way you were not expecting. “i’m so sorry for not noticing before.”

before you can stop yourself, your face crumples. one of his hands comes up and presses your head gently against his chest, like he already knows you will not argue with it.

you’re grateful for that. for the fact that his shirt is hiding your face from everyone else’s eyes. you don't even realize you’ve started crying until the first tear slips free and the rest follow.

you let out a tiny hiccup and press your face closer.

“it’s no—” you start, and another hiccup ruins the sentence. “it’s nothing.”

“it is something, isn’t it?” he says.

his voice is so soft that you nod against his shirt before you even think about it.

some small, traitorous part of your brain wonders whether he has ever spoken to another woman like this. you like to think you're special. you know you are, in your own way. you just do not know whether that extends into the part where someone might love you back.

sebastian cups your face with both hands, thumb brushing lightly over your wet cheek. his forehead rests against yours for a second, and you have the strange, dizzy thought that maybe this is his polite way of letting you down gently.

then his eyes drop to your mouth.

your fingers find his hair, threading in carefully, pulling him closer before you can lose your mind. he hesitates only for a second. his lips meet yours, and the kiss is soft at first, almost uncertain, like neither of you quite trusts how real this is.

his hands drift lower from your face, settling at your neck with a pressure that feels more grounding than anything else.

you part only when the air in your lungs finally gives out.

the two of you separate on the same shaky breath, both of you looking a little stunned. your chest rises too fast. your heart is thudding against your ears. sebastian's lips are a little redder than before, thing that makes you a little bit proud.

“that was— that was really good.” you glance up at him. “we’re good, right?”

sebastian’s mouth twitches and he nods once.

“mm-hm,” he says quietly. “we’re good.”

[bbuttonnn]

A New Kind of Love

pairing: lars lindstrom x fem!reader

summary: You’d just moved into a new neighbourhood and made an embarrassing first impression in front of a guy who seems to not find it as horrible as you think.

wc: 13k

tags: fluff (lots of it), reader is awkward and paints, mentions of nightmares and abuse (nothing explicit, mention of reader’s abusive mom and scar due to said mom), protective Lars, no bianca mention (rip queen)

notes: a little important note that’s relevant to the story! after doing some research I found out that in the original script Lars and Gus' mom's name was Joan so I made sure that the characters’ names are accurate 🫡 I will say that I’m not a very experienced writer but I did try my best with this one! I hope you guys like it :-)

“Hi,” you whispered to yourself as you rolled the sticky dough between your hands. “I’m the new neighbour that just moved in,” you continued to recite as you set the brown ball onto the parchment paper over the metal tray. "I baked you some cookies, they’re gluten free, vegan, and have no peanuts in them, so no worries if you have any allergies."

After closing the oven door and letting the cookies bake, you began working on the boxes you were planning to put them in, leaving a note inside with your phone number and preparing the ribbon that would keep everything intact. It was incredibly important to you to make the very best impression around town as a newcomer. The plan was to bake cookies and walk door to door in your neighbourhood as you introduce yourself, the concept was a bit nerve wrecking as you were never good with social interactions, but you thought it would be a good ice breaker.

Looking out the window, everything but the road was covered in snow, making you think twice about leaving the house. Shaking the negative thoughts off, you got up and went to look for some warm clothes, a freezing day like this demands some proper protection from the cold.

After covering yourself with as many layers as possible, you decided that taking one box at a time would be best - the cookies would remain warm, and each greeting would feel much more personal rather than a stop by delivery. After tying the laces of your old trusty boots, you put on a thick coat and covered your head with a beanie and a scarf, letting only your eyes peek through. Shoving your hands into the pockets of the coat, you smiled as you found a fuzzy pair of gloves you forgot you put in there and slid them over your fingers. You struggled to walk comfortably to the neighbour next door from the amount of clothing you had on, but managed to reach the entrance to their house and took a deep breath, knocking three times.

An elderly lady opened the door to you, she took off what you assumed were her reading glasses that were attached to a beaded chain around her neck.

“Hi!” You said with a wide smile and introduced your name. “I’m the new neighbour that just moved in,” you said and lifted the box a bit higher to bring the lady’s attention to it. “I baked some cookies as a… hello… gift.” You scrunched your face at your poor delivery, mentally punishing yourself for not practicing a couple more times beforehand. You cleared your throat and went back to your planned script, “They’re gluten free, vegan, and have no peanuts in them, so no worries if you have any allergies!”

The lady gave you a warm smile before telling you her name as well, "it’s very time to meet you, would you want to come inside?" She took a step back and opened the door wider, warm light shining from the inside.

You paused for a moment, not anticipating this response and now having to improvise on the spot. "Oh, no thank you," you politely declined and handed her the box, "You take care, now. Okay?" The lady nodded, sending you on your way after imposing a similar wish to you. You walked back to your new apartment proud, going to pick another box and march to your next neighbour.

Unbeknownst to you from across the street, a man in his cozy sweater and a cup of warm teawas watching you through the foggy glass on his front door. Lars watched you a couple days earlier moving boxes into the house that happened to be right in front of the garage he's been living in. Anxiety already bubbled up inside him, knowing he'd have to adapt to the new change in environment, But now he was almost having a panic attack seeing you walk up to people's doors and realising that once you make your way to Gus and Karin's - he might be the next victim.

Just as he feared, after following your silhouette around the neighbourhood, the trespassing threat was now getting closer and closer to him. He could barely make out any of your features and your limited movements made it difficult to judge your character, only stressing Lars out even more.

You made it to your fifth and what you thought was the last door of the day while taking a deep breath as you did every single time before knocking today. A woman holding a baby on her side opens up the door and before you get to give your speech she already smiles and starts talking.

"Oh, hello! Whatcha got there?" She asked sweetly. You feared that by her tone she might think you're an overgrown child since nothing about your appearance would attest that you're in fact a grown woman.

“Just some…" you blinked, "cookies I baked!” You said hesitantly, trying to move the scarf from covering your mouth and failing miserably from your hands being occupied. You persisted in continuing to talk regardless to make the interaction end as quickly as possible. After telling her your name you stared into her eyes and exclaimed. "They’re gluten free and vegan! No- no peanuts either! So they’re super safe, even for your baby.” You blinked quickly, “I- Not that they can eat it, they probably don't have teeth yet," chuckling nervously, you felt your face heating up from embarrassment.

"Yeah, she's still very young," the woman laughed, her eyes squinting from her smile. "I'm Karin by the way-" she began to put her free hand out but you cut her off.

"Oh!" You exclaimed as you remembered you forgot to mention why you're here, making the woman jump, "I'm the new neighbour! That's why I'm doing this, I'm not some... creep," you couldn't stop talking for the life of you and just making matters worse. The kind woman smiled regardless as a man joined to stand next to her.

"That's Gus, my husband," she said politely. "Would you like to come in for some tea?"

Before you could decline her offer you heard a sound coming from the shed to your left. You turned your head to see a figure inside quickly hiding from the door window. Lars shut his eyes as his back was against the wall, knowing well you saw him but prayed that you would ignore it.

"That's uh, Lars," she said, looking a bit uncomfortable and adjusted the baby on her hip.

You turned your head back to her, "oh, I thought it was your garage."

Karin opened her mouth to explain, not finding the right words and the three of you were left in a couple of seconds of silence before Gus spoke up. "He's my brother, he... lives there, it's like a small apartment." He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to defend Lars' living situation to avoid humiliation.

You nodded in understanding, "it's a good thing you told me, I'll bring him some cookies as well!" The couple looked at one another with discomfort on their faces, not sure of how good of an idea that would be. Already turning around and getting off their door step, you missed their reaction. "Have a good day!"

You heard Karin say 'you too' as you were already walking back home to bring yet another parcel. Hearing your footsteps disappear in the distance, Lars went back to observing you again. He let out a sigh of relief when you skipped his door and saw you enter your home but not close the door behind you. Squinting, he tried to spot you inside, trying to figure out why you would leave your door open on such a cold winter day and immediately gasped as he witnessed you walk out with something in your hands.

Lars shook his head to himself, his hands already trembling in fear around the warm cup, knowing you're marching towards his door. He quickly hid by the wall again and stared at the ceiling, preparing to be as silent as possible when you arrived. He jolted as he heard three knocks on the door.

You waited patiently before knocking again. "Lars?" You asked. "It's- I'm the new neighbour. I, uh, baked some cookies," you looked down to the floor. "They’re gluten free, vegan, and with no peanuts, in case you have any allergies." Lars didn't move an inch, thinking if he waits it out long enough you'll leave.

The silence you were met with was devastating, knowing he saw you earlier and decided to ignore you felt like a punch in the gut. It made you question if what you were doing was normal and everyone just played along out of pity until now. You tried to bend down and leave your gift by the entrance but your coat prevented you from doing so, resulting in you falling forwards and hitting your head on the door. Luckily your knitted hat played as a cushion for your head, however the box fell from your hands to the floor, scattering the cookies everywhere.

The sound of your head hitting the wood made Lars’ eyes widen and look out the glass, seeing you struggling to pick up the cookies from the ground and put them back in the box. He realised he was left with no choice and ran his hand over his head a couple of times before putting his drink down and opening the door.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bother," your voice broke. You spoke without looking up, scared of what might happen as soon as the unknown man would realise you soiled the entrance to his house. Tears were filling your eyes as you noticed every single cookie broke, all of your hard work went down the drain. "So so sorry, sir, it's- this is my fault," you said the last part quietly, not believing how you could've screwed up so poorly.

Lars shifted nervously, blinking hard before bending down and helping you pick up the remaining pieces while making sure to avoid your hand and accidentally making it too obvious, forcing the tears in your eyes to fall to your cheeks. Your mind began spiraling, he doesn't even want to touch you from how strange you were being. He quietly cleaned up the mess and closed the box once he was done. The two of you got up and stood in front of one another. You kept your gaze low, expecting him to unleash his anger if you'd make eye contact with him.

Holding your hands, you sniffled. "I apologise, I’ll throw it away."

Lars' heart broke seeing you cry, all of the fear in his body now transforming to concern and shame. He was already automatically blaming himself for your accident, thinking if he’d just opened the door and spoke to you like a regular person then none of this would’ve happened. Too overwhelmed to think about how to help you, he blinked a couple of times and took a deep breath. "Thank you," he said softly.

You looked up at him, he could now see you more clearly. He wanted to look away but your wet eyelashes and glossy eyes caught his attention, among the rest of your features. It was difficult for him to look away from you for some reason he couldn’t explain but he did so anyway as a force of habit.

Confused, you swallowed and shuffled in place. "I'll... I can throw it away."

Lars gently shook his head, "'s okay, thank you," he said quietly and his moustache curled upwards into a smile before he walked backwards and closed the door. You stood there frozen, lowering your hands and seeing him stay to what you thought was making sure you leave his premises. You wiped your tears with your gloved hands and Lars smiled again before disappearing into the darkness of his house. You adjusted your beanie and began to rush home and avoid any further humiliation until Karin opened her door to call your name.

"Would you maybe want to... come for dinner tonight?" She yelled out from her door step. Her voice caught Lars' attention as well, he halted his movements to hear the conversation and peep at you through the glass again, now from further away from the door. You paused and held your hands to your chest nervously and Lars noticed it, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it but took note of it anyways.

"Uh- sorry, I can't tonight!" You replied and practically ran away. The thought that maybe the couple saw your degrading incident now plagued your mind and would probably keep you awake at night for days to come.

Karin looked back in the direction of Lars’ place, she felt the similarities between the two of you and was slightly worried your fate would be similar to his. Inside his home, Lars set your gift on his table in the middle of his one floor apartment. He looked at it for a couple of seconds before watching you disappear into the distance.

Entering your new house you looked at the last couple of boxes you had left and decided to wallow in your sorrows as you ate each and every cookie that was left. It was one of those days you wished you didn’t have to come to an empty place, barely remembering what it felt like to live with another human being.

As the night came, so did your anxiety. After years of living alone you thought you’d get used to it, but tonight was once again one of many where you couldn’t get much sleep. The nightmares started when you were a child, you were too young to remember the exact age, but for all you know it’s been this way forever. Some were recurring, some were new, but none forgot to visit you every single night. It was almost the same routine every time: you wake up in cold sweat from a nightmare to an empty bed inside a dark room and then struggle to fall back asleep. The cycle repeats itself at least three times until your alarm rings. It was rare that you spoke about these dreams to anyone, you thought if you ignored them they might go away on their own so you always kept them to yourself.

The worst discovery you made about your night terrors was that you apparently sleep best with someone else in the room, when you were in your teenage years it was easier to manage, you were able to go back to sleep if you could see someone was in the room with you. As you needed to find an escape from home you had the privilege of getting to sleep at friends’ houses whenever you could, but it soon became unrealistic to crash in their homes all the time. Once you found your own apartment you realised how bad it can be when you wake up during the night and have no one around.

Thinking doctors had the answer, you turned to various ones, only to find out there’s no medication that can cure you. Chasing different prescriptions and pills was hell, especially when all of them had the worst side effects - sweating, vomiting, some even making your nightmares worse. Up until a few years ago you had hope and seeked for the light at the end of the tunnel but now you understood that you were on your own and there’s nothing you could do to help yourself.

As the next day rolled by, you were just as anxious since it was your first day at your new job as well. You had one of the many nightmares you usually have about your mom. Shaking your head in an attempt to erase the memory, you got out of bed to get ready for the day. Yesterday certainly didn’t make this morning feel optimistic, but you convinced yourself this time would be different. It’s an office job, ‘simple and stable’, you thought.

Arriving at the building, you were introduced to your workplace by a woman named Margo as you were both standing inside the cubicle. “I work on the left desk so the right side is all yours,” she smiled. You thanked her as you put your bag down.

“Cute bear,” you said shyly, pointing at the brown stuffed animal that sat next to her computer.

Margo turned to pick him up and show it to you, “thank you! I like to decorate my desk with things that make me happy so that it would feel less grey in here,” she giggled. You smiled and nodded as you heard a voice from a nearby cubicle.

“No one cares about your stupid bear.”

Margo turned to the sound and was about to answer the mysterious voice but gave up, with her back turned to you she spoke. “That’s Kurt, he tried to hang my bear last week, so don’t get too close to him.”

You nodded again, even though you were out of her sight and didn’t fully understand what she meant by that. As soon as she finished talking, a tall man dressed in a brown knit sweater with a collared shirt and a tie underneath walked in.

“Oh and this is Lars!” she exclaimed.

Lars raised his head for a moment and instinctively put it down to avoid unnecessary eye contact before looking up again and stopping in his tracks as soon as he recognised you. Your face dropped and you could feel yourself drowning in embarrassment just by seeing him again.

Margo told him your name as he blinked hard and rushed to his desk to hide. She turned to you, “he’s really shy, don’t take it personally, he’s like that with everyone.” You nodded a third time and forced a smile. Wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You bit your bottom lip, this town was smaller than you realised.

Lars settled in his place while you did the same, but Lars was fighting with himself not to stare at you. It was easy at first, since the computers were positioned in a way that you’d be facing away from one another, but the more time passed the more difficult it was for him to ignore the urge to turn around. Once he finally got the courage to do it, he tried to sneak a peek just to see that your chair was empty. He looked around to see where you might be and his eyes landed on the break room. Thinking about it for a bit and looking at Kurt who was focused on some porn site with his headphones on, Lars decided to take a trip to the vending machine.

As he walked in, he immediately saw you and Margo sitting by the table and talking, luckily you didn’t speak to him as you were having a conversation of your own and your back was facing the entrance. He instantly turned to the machine without saying a word, quietly eavesdropping.

“Maybe start by putting up some pictures of your family? That’s what I did, I just kept adding things until the desk developed its own personality,” Margot said before taking a bite out of her sandwich.

“Oh, I don’t really have those,” you confessed as you rubbed your arm uncomfortably, trying to smile to ease the tension.

“Not really the photography kind, huh?” She thought for a moment, “what about some gifts, they must’ve given you some for your now apartment,” she said as if it was obvious.

You slowly shook your head, noticing Margo’s expression changing. You couldn’t successfully read it but you could understand it wasn’t positive. A bag of chips fell from the machine’s shelf, Lars now picking it up from the bottom slot.

You hated discussing these matters, accidentally exposing parts of your identity you tried hiding. Feeling a lump in your throat, you spoke up. “Oh no, yeah, you’re right, I got a… a few gifts.” You furrowed your eyebrows and put a finger to your chin as if you just remembered.

The blonde's face now lit up, believing your lie, as Lars now exited the break room and walked down the hall towards his desk with the snack in his hand without saying a word.

You cleared your throat, “I should probably get back to work.” You shot Margo a polite smile and she returned the same before you left.

By the time your shift ended, Lars overheard you talking to Margo as Eric joined, the three of you walking down the hallway. He didn’t mean to listen in on you again but this time you were right by his cubicle.

“By foot? That’s like an hour long walk in the snow!” She sounded concerned. “Eric and I are going to the movies but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind dropping you off.” She turned to him and he nodded.

You grabbed your bag and clutched it tightly at the thought of being in a car ride with two strangers, “Oh it’s alright, I prefer walking.”

You found yourself now standing outside the building and looking at the cars ahead of you leaving the parking lot. Margo asked you one last time before they left if you were sure about your decision to which you responded the same way you did inside. You regretted it almost instantly, the cold air hitting your face was enough to make you think about which cough drops you were going to take tonight from how sick you’re about to be once you get home. Your hands tightened around the strap of your bag, trying to get the courage to start your journey home.

“My car’s right there.” You heard a soft voice behind you. Turning around you recognised the familiar face. Lars stood there, his cheeks pink from the cold and his coat’s buttons slightly bursting at the seams.

Your mouth became dry, you were certain Lars probably wanted to help you out of pity. “I- there’s no need.” You tried to be as polite as possible.

“You have a car?” He asked, making sure he didn’t misunderstand the situation.

You unintentionally frowned, your eyes beginning to sting. You didn’t want to admit you don’t have enough money to even rent a car, knowing the small piece of information might lead to a series of questions you didn’t want to answer.

Lars noticed your eyes slightly reddening as you clearly became overwhelmed by his simple question. A strange feeling in his stomach caught his attention as he recognised your behaviour, knowing exactly how it feels. Shaking your head, you brought your hand to scratch your forehead, trying to hide behind it.

“I’ll drive you.” He simply said and walked towards his car, an old blue piece of metal that has undoubtedly seen better days. He was too scared to look back at you but was relieved when he heard your footsteps behind him.

“Thank you, sorry for the inconvenience.” You said. Lars wanted to tell you that you weren’t inconveniencing him at all, your house was a turn of a wheel away from his.

Getting in the car, he turned on the heat and went to adjust the air ventilation on the passenger seat before pulling back, thinking he’s invading your personal space. “Here, you can…”

“Thank you,” you said quietly as he fastened his seat belt before waiting for you to do the same and he drove out of the parking lot.

The drive was relatively quiet, with only the radio playing to ease some of the tension. It smelled fresh and mostly like a cologne you assumed Lars used every day. You tried to look out the window on your side rather than through the windshield, feeling like looking at the same thing Lars would be too intimate. You attempted occupying your mind by counting the people you saw walking by. After only managing to get to four you gasped.

“Sorry,” you said through your hand that flew to your mouth. You’d just seen a dog being walked that resembled the one you grew up with as a child. The one that you saw was wearing little red boots to protect him from the icy pavement. “It’s just that, I had a dog like that,” you said. “His name was Bo, he was the sweetest friendliest little guy,” you smiled to yourself remembering all the moments you came home to his wagging tail and loving kisses. “We, uh, eventually had to give him away though… didn’t have enough- we couldn’t take care of him anymore.” Your voice was hushed.

Lars didn’t react, making you think you said too much, so you decided to shut up until you arrived at your destination. Once you did, you turned to Lars who’s eyes were fixated on the wheel. You wanted to speak, thank him again for the ride, but he beat you to it.

“I’ll be here tomorrow morning after church.” He turned to stare at your shoulder, the closest he could get to your face with his gaze.

Your eyes widened with the realisation he was offering to drive you to work. “Oh, you really don’t have to! I’ll, uh… after I get this paycheck I might be able to rent a proper car so don’t worry about it!” You had no idea why you were saying this, of course you’d rather have someone drive you to work and especially when they’re kind enough to offer it themselves.

Lars listened carefully and took his time with his response. All he muttered was a quiet ‘okay’ with a small smile. You got out of the car, “thanks again, Lars.” You said before closing the door. Lars’ face began reddening at your use of his name, thankful you were too far to see it as he watched you walk safely inside from the side mirror before driving off.

The next morning was less snowy, making you hopeful for the long walk ahead of you for work. You also only woke up twice during the night, which was less than usual. As you walked out of the house you noticed a familiar blue car parked by the road. You walked towards the rumbling vehicle, thinking you misremembered telling Lars that he didn’t have to drive you.

“It’s unlocked,” he said without looking at you, meaning the passenger door.

You wanted to turn down his generous offer, but the opportunity to be driven in a warm car was too tempting to pass. Opening the door, you sat down and thanked him. This drive was just as quiet as the last one, only this time you could’ve sworn you saw Lars grin the whole time in the corner of your eye.

As you entered the office space, the two of you split into your cubicles without speaking to each other. At lunch time, you sat with Margo in the break room again as she told you about her movie date with Eric. You politely listened and nodded, even though half of the time you lost track of what she was saying, as thoughts about Lars kept popping up in your mind. You wondered why he was being so nice to you despite your horrible introduction. Pushing them aside, you both eventually got up and went back to your desks. Sitting down in your chair, you noticed a light brown plushie in the shape of a dog on your keyboard.

You turned to Margo, “hey, uh- is this yours? It was on my desk,” you asked her as you picked the stuffed animal.

“Nope, mine’s a bear.” She replied sweetly and turned back to her computer.

You tried connecting the dots and figuring out who would give you such a specific gift, and suddenly remembering the ride Lars gave you yesterday. You looked over to his cubicle, he was typing on his desk with his back towards you. You must’ve gotten carried away with your thoughts, there’s no way he’d leave such a thing without speaking to you… right? You settled down in your chair and got to back work, distracting yourself from unrealistic fantasies.

The rest of your day was uneventful apart from one awkward encounter that was with no other than Lars. Margo got up to Eric’s desk and while the sound of her giggling distracted you from your work, you decided to get up and make yourself a cup of coffee. As soon as you stood up you locked eyes with Lars who appeared to be already staring at you. You paused as he shut his eyes and spun back to his computer without uttering a word. You rushed to the break room while rubbing the back of your neck and trying to forget this moment ever happened. You were sure that after this he’d never offer you another ride ever again.

It was finally time for you to clock out, Margo was already gone and people were putting on their layers to face another evening of winter. You turned off your computer as you heard footsteps getting closer to you. You turned your head and saw Lars standing by your cubicle. His cheeks were red and he was not making eye contact or saying anything, just waiting. Thinking he must’ve been waiting for Kurt, you continued to gather your things. Once you were done you began to walk out and Lars followed you. You felt his presence but were too shy to acknowledge him. It was only when you made it out of the building that he finally spoke.

“Parked right there.” He walked towards his car, this time he looked back to see if you were following him. Since you weren’t, he stopped to look at you. The two of you shared a moment of silence, not sure how to respond to the other one’s actions.

“I… I can walk, it’s fine.” You said, not very convincingly, already remembering how cozy it was to be driven in a heated car. Lars didn’t want to push you, he was never good at doing that anyways. But something inside him couldn’t let him leave you like this in the cold.

“You shouldn’t,” was all he said as he fidgeted with his fingers, each hand was on either side of his body.

You slowly made your way towards him, making him try to hide his smile by lowering his head and continuing to walk to his car. As you sat inside, he turned on the heat just like last time, making you sigh with relief. “Thank you, I… I’ll get a car soon so you wouldn’t have to do this,” you chuckled nervously. Lars didn’t respond, he backed out of the lot and drove away.

After a couple of minutes of uncomfortable silence you thought of bringing up the toy you found today. “I, um…” you thought before speaking. “I found a stuffed animal on my desk today.” You looked at Lars’ direction. All he did was look at the road, blinking hard and quickly. His lack of reaction was enough to let you think you were probably imagining things and it had nothing to do with him.

As you both made it home Lars saw you getting ready to thank him as you always do, suppressing a reserved smile when you did exactly that. He had no clue why was so giddy by doing something he’s done for you a couple of times already.

“Thank you, Lars. It’s really kind of you to do this, I’ll make it up to you I promise.”

Lars shook his head and whispered a barely audible ‘it’s okay’ before the two of you jumped from the sound of knocking on the window of the driver’s side of the car. It was Karin, hunched over with a friendly smile and waving, slightly out of breath. Lars rolled down his window.

“Hi! I wanted to invite you guys to dinner!” She said, you both were too stunned to respond.

“Tonight? If you don’t mind… or- or maybe tomorrow night?” She desperately tried to make the plan work. “Lars, you’re free right?”

Lars widened his eyes, his heart almost stopping from being put on the spot like this.

“I’m free tonight, actually,” you said quietly, Karin gave you a toothy grin.

“Perfect! Tonight at eight!” She exclaimed and gave Lars a look you couldn’t decipher before turning around and walking away.

“See tonight at eight?” you smiled. Lars nodded and avoided looking at you. After you exited the car and made your way home, he rushed to his apartment. As he got out of his car, he heard fast footsteps.

“Lars!”

He shut his eyes, recognising Karin’s voice again. He tried his best to act as if he didn’t hear her and jogged to his door, however Karin was not new to this behaviour. She raced him to his apartment and managed to get there before he did, forcing him to stand in front of her as she panted.

“Please come tonight.” She begged. “I’ve been seeing you driving her to work and back, I really think this would be good for you.”

Lars’ eyes now filled with tears. The subject of relationships was a sensitive one for him and just the thought of being forced to speak to you in a romantic manner made him nauseous with fear.

“I want to get home, please,” he said quietly, pointing at the door Karin was blocking.

“Not until you promise me you’ll come tonight. Please.”

Lars’ hands turned to fists beside his body, he would rather set himself on fire than do what Karin is asking him to do. He looked around, trying to calm himself down and let the tears dry out. Realising he’s reached a dead end, he surrendered. “Okay,” he murmured.

Karin almost leaped from joy. “Thank you! It’s gonna be great Lars, trust me!” She wanted to hug him and pulled away at the last second as he stepped back, making her remember his relationship with physical touch.

“Don’t be late!” She teased and ran home as Lars let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding before opening his door and getting in.

“Well? How did it go?” Gus shouted from the kitchen as he heard Karin walk in.

She went up to him to hug him from behind as he was cooking something on the stove. “It’s a double date!”

Your legs almost gave out as you stood outside Karin and Gus’ place. You knew that this would be a great opportunity to get to know them and Lars, but damn was it scary. You finally had the chance to wear something nicer than work clothes that kept you warm from the weather. It was a simple red dress over a black long sleeved shirt with black leggings and a red pair of shoes to match. You tried your best to try and put on some makeup as well, even though it wasn’t your strongest suit, you thought the effort is what counts. Your hands were gripping a bottle of wine you bought with the recommendation of the store owner, as you didn’t know much about these kinds of things. After a few quiet knocks on the door, Karin greeted you by yelling out your name.

“You look amazing!” She said and hugged you, as you kept holding the bottle in your hands. “Is that for us? Aw, you shouldn’t have, come on in!”

You stepped inside the toasty house, setting down the wine in the kitchen after greeting Gus as well. He turned to his wife and gave her a look you didn’t understand until she spoke.

“I’ll check up on Lars,” she said and smiled at you before leaving you alone with Gus. As you sheepishly tried sparking a conversation with him, Karin knocked on Lars’ door.

The tall man was staring in the mirror combing the same strands of hair over and over again to try and look his best for you. The sudden noise made him jolt, almost dropping the comb to the ground before setting it on the bathroom countertop. Light footsteps made their way to the door as he looked at Karin through the glass window.

She waved to him as he gave her his polite grin. “We’re all waiting for you,” she said.

Lars breathed deeply, coming up with a lie to excuse him from coming, maybe saying that he’s got a nasty cold from chopping wood. However, Karin was always two steps ahead.

“Don’t try to tell me you’re sick, Lars.” She gave him a knowing look, “it’s just dinner, afterwards you could go back home.” She added, trying to lure him. Karin knew how to back Lars into a corner, considering she truly believed what she was offering was in his favour. After looking at his brother’s house and dropping his head, he opened the door to show defeat.

Gus was halfway through telling you about his parents as Karin and Lars walked in. You were sitting across from the married man on the couch and turned to see the couple who walked in. Lars was wearing a dark green sweater, the fourth one he tried today. He stared at you as you stood up to face him.

“Hi, Lars.” You said timidly.

Lars’ eyes reddened, you looked beautiful. Just standing in front of you in that red dress and his name sliding off your tongue made him dizzy. You were nervously holding your hands in front of your torso the same way you did when Karin spoke to you the day he met you. His breathing quickened and it was apparent enough to make Gus want to say something.

“We can start eating if-”

“Need to go to the bathroom,” Lars mumbled and hustled through the house to find the bathroom as quickly as possible.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said to the married couple, who rushed to reassure you that his reaction wasn’t your fault and that you can start sitting at the table while they set everything up.

Lars locked the door and closed his eyes, gripping the sink until his knuckles turned white. A tear rolled down his cheek as he tried to regulate his breathing. Nothing about this situation is familiar to him and the sight of you alone made him nervous enough to want to turn on his heel and run away as far as possible. He began regretting driving you home, thinking that his flirtatious attempts backfired viciously and now he has no way of turning back. He aggressively rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater and took a look in the mirror. He thought he looked like a mess and felt like a complete idiot that he believed for even a second that he’d be able to impress someone like you. Slicking his hair back, he took one last breath before opening the door and walking to the dining room, hoping tonight would end as fast as possible.

You were sitting next to Karin who was across from Gus, leaving the chair in front of you empty. The table was full and all the three of you smiled as Lars sat down in the last available chair left and focused on his plate with his hands clasped between his thighs. None of you mentioned how his cheeks were redder than usual, you just continued your conversation.

“Wow, since you were sixteen you said?” Gus asked. You’d just told them you’ve been living on your own for over a decade.

“Yeah, I just… started working as soon as I could and once I had enough money I left,” you answered as Karin served you a plate.

“Can teenagers even rent an apartment that young?” She asked.

You chuckled, “not exactly renting but people who sublet apartments don’t really care about legal issues as long as you pay them.” You answered before thanking her.

“I also pretty much ran from home as soon as I could, best decision I ever made,” Gus said, making Lars bite his bottom lip.

“Yeah, but you weren’t living alone,” Karin corrected him and turned to you, “wasn’t that scary?” She asked with worry on her face.

“Well, sometimes,” you answered, embarrassed now that all the attention was on you. “But it’s not a big deal, it’s mostly lonely if anything,” you said, thinking that the last part would make things sound better. By the look of Karin, it did not.

“You can always come over, our door is open,” she said and rested a hand on your shoulder. You nodded and tried you best to make eye contact with her after burying your head in your plate, beginning to eat.

Lars wanted to ask you questions as well, to know what made you run from home, why you came to live in this specific town, and how come a pretty girl like you is living all alone. He wouldn’t dare to speak though, not when he’s being so… him. Awkward and weird, he believed he’d only make things worse. His eyes slowly made their way to you, noticing you pulled up your sleeves to reveal a small section of skin. He didn’t mean to examine you, but you had a prominent scar on the outside part of your forearm that fascinated him. It went from the outside of your wrist to the middle of your forearm with a slight curve to it.

He would’ve kept looking at it if it weren’t for Gus’ elbow pushing his arm. It took Lars out of the trance he was in to go and put some food on his plate as well.

“So, what do you do in your free time here? This town doesn’t have much to offer, I’d imagine you keep yourself busy somehow,” Karin asked you.

“I like to paint,” you admitted as she hummed in understanding. “I don’t do it much though, I like painting on wood so it’s pretty expensive buying the wooden pieces every time,” you laughed quietly.

“You know,” Gus perked up, “Lars chops wood!” He said and pointed to the timid man with his thumb. Lars’ head snapped to him in horror.

“He could chop up some panels for you to paint on, that way you don’t have to pay for them,” Gus attempted to initiate a conversation between you two. You locked eyes with Lars, he blinked quickly. Thinking this was an opportunity to connect with him, you replied.

“You chop wood? That’s awesome, Lars.” You said, trying your best to show interest in his hobby.

Lars could never get used to the sound of your voice saying his name, his head turned slightly as he thought of a response.

“Yeah… I- yeah,” he whispered.

“You must be really strong then,” you continued. Your sentence came out way more flirtatious than you intended, making you bite your lips as Lars’ face was flushed red. Karin and Gus shared a look before the woman suggested opening up the wine you brought and asked Gus to help her in the kitchen.

The couple took their time in the other room, leaving you and Lars with much more time to converse. It took you a little while before you could think of something to say, but luckily Lars blurted out something. He decided to give in to his curiosity and ask you a question with his gaze still locked on his plate. “What- uh… what do you paint?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, this is the first time he ever showed clear interest in you. You cleared your throat, “portraits! I like… I like painting people’s faces and stuff…”

“Like, people you know?” He looked towards your face now.

You smiled at his attempt to get closer to you, “sometimes, yes. I used to do it for money as well so if someone commissioned a portrait, I’d paint what whoever chose.”

He mirrored your expression and thought for a moment to himself, his gaze fixed on the table. You wanted to keep talking to him but were afraid you’d scare him away again, like a wild cub whose behaviour you can’t quite understand.

“If you chop me a piece of wood, I can paint you for free,” you joked.

Lars’ eyes shot up at you, the idea of you painting him gave his stomach butterflies. The suggestion felt intimate. For you to spend time pasting his features, brush stroke by brush stroke, he had to suppress a smile just thinking about it.

“There we go,” Gus said as he walked in with two glasses of wine in his hands and Karin arriving the same way.

You found yourself loosening up after the first glass of wine, the four of you got a little tipsy and laughter was quickly filling the room. Lars looked much more radiant and managed to let out a few chuckles here and there. A sudden sound of a baby crying from the top floor made you all stop and lower your voices.

“Oh, we woke up Joan,” Karin said and covered her mouth before getting up and walking upstairs.

You apologised and Gus let you know that it’s okay. “Joan is a beautiful name,” you said.

“Thanks, it was our mother’s name,” he said looking at Lars who wasn’t smiling anymore.

Karin made her way back to the table, now with little Joan on her hip. “Since she’s already up, I thought she could say hi.”

You got up to greet the baby, who was looking at you with big wide eyes. “Hi Joan, sorry for waking you up,” you said, earning giggles from the room. Usually you’d never be this comfortable talking to someone, let alone a baby, but the alcohol in your bloodstream was definitely doing the talking for you tonight.

“Wanna hold her?” Karin asked.

You looked at Joan’s curious expression and couldn’t resist. As you nodded with excitement, Karin gently handed her to you and you slowly rested her on your hip. Joan looked around the room in surprise, trying to comprehend the situation before looking back at your grinning face.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you said in a high pitched voice, causing Joan to smile and make everyone in the room melt. You caressed her cheek with your finger and tickled her belly, being blessed with the lovely sound of her laughter.

Lars watched intently, his stomach doing flips at the sight. If he thought you couldn’t get more attractive to him - he was dead wrong. Watching you interact gently with his niece made him already fantasising of having a family of his own with you. Imagining you holding their baby, making them laugh the way you made Joan, maybe even having a little house in the countryside-

“Lars?” Gus’ voice snapped him back to reality. They looked at each other for a moment, the older brother analysed Lars’ face with a smirk.

Lars, feeling ashamed for acting so obvious, suddenly stood up. “It’s getting late now.”

You looked up at him and nodded in agreement. The two of you went to the door as Gus held Joan’s hand to wave you goodbye.

You and Lars thanked the couple for the evening, already talking about doing the same thing next week. As the door closed you and Lars were left alone and after getting off the stairway to the house, Lars turned to you. It took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts, yet you stood patiently.

“I, uh…” he trailed off. Shoving a hand in his pocket, he took out a small plushed toy in the shape of a bone. “Fr’ Bo.” He mumbled as he held it out for you.

The realisation hit you that your suspicion was correct, it was indeed Lars who left you the stuffed animal on your desk today. You smiled and grabbed it, your fingers gently grazing his.

It felt… nice. Lars didn’t flinch or move away in any way, he let you touch him. He was afraid to accept the fact that he even enjoyed it.

“Thank you, Lars. I’m sure he’d love it!” You looked right into his eyes. They looked different, soft. You couldn’t put a finger on what it was that made them appear this way, but you didn’t care too much at the moment either.

“It’s getting late-“

“Tomorrow, after work maybe you could see me chop some wood- if you want, I mean.” He said breathlessly, pushing the words out that have been sitting on his heart. Maybe it was the wine but he was feeling brave tonight and he didn’t want to let this opportunity go.

You thought there was something so innocent about what he just said, inviting you to watch him do something he enjoys. You sensed a tone of pride in his voice, like he wanted to show off his wood chopping skills and perhaps prove to you that he is in fact just as strong as you suggested earlier.

“I’d love that Lars,” you stared at your feet trying to hide your burning cheeks. “See you tomorrow morning?”

Lars bit his bottom lip with a smile, only he could make such an expression look so adorable. “Yes!” He replied a bit too eagerly.

You chuckled, extremely endeared by the man in front of you. “Great, goodnight Lars.”

“Goodnight,” he said before uttering your name. It was the first time he said it to you, now making your face tingle. You turned around to walk home, almost stumbling from being too giddy and not watching where you’re going.

Lars found it difficult to hide his smile as he returned home, glancing around the dark walls he spotted the same box of cookies you gave him the first day you met. He sighed, knowing it was going to be difficult to throw them away.

You woke up in the middle of the night as you usually do, with a gasp and bloodshot red eyes. Your forehead was damp as you looked around the dimly lit room. The only light coming in was the moon shining through your window’s thin blinds. You put your hand to your face and dragged it across your features, wondering when the nightmares will finally leave you alone. Getting up, you went to the kitchen to fill a glass with water, hoping it’ll calm you down. As you opened the tupperware cabinet you glanced out the window that gave you a direct view of Lars’ place.

The thought of him filled you with a warm feeling, imagining how nice it would be to wake up next to him instead of alone. You filled the glass until it was almost full and drank it all before setting it in the sink and walking back to bed. Staring at the ceiling, you wondered if he was thinking the same thing. The thoughts about your charming neighbour eventually put you to sleep, until you woke up with a loud knock on your front door.

In a haze, you got out of bed, rubbing your eyes and opening the front door to see Lars standing there in his usual coat.

“Lars?” You asked, blinking in confusion and in slight pain of having to get used to the bright sunlight. You were sure you were still dreaming since Lars never came over.

He looked frightened all of a sudden. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you wanted me to…” he said, already taking a step back in fear of overstepping a boundary, seeing you wearing an old shirt with baggy pants as your pyjamas.

You looked to see his car behind him and gasped. You’d overslept. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t wake up in time- of course I wanted you to- oh god,” you rambled as you tried getting your thoughts together. Apologising and reassuring Lars at the same time, not wanting to hurt his feelings after he finally allowed himself to open up to you.

“I’m sorry Lars, you can go without me. I wouldn't want you to be any more late to work,” you said, slightly frustrated that you messed up what could have been another lovely interaction with the sweet man.

Lars looked to the side and thought to himself. “I don’t mind waiting.”

“Are… you sure?” You asked.

Lars nodded, not moving an inch. He genuinely did not mind standing in the cold until you came out ready and wasn’t thinking there was any other option until you invited him in. He walked inside and closed the door as you rushed to get ready, leaving him alone in the living room.

“Feel free to make yourself a cup of coffee!” You yelled from your room down the hallway and rapidly picked the fire clothes you could out of your closet.

Lars looked around your apartment, it was full of colourful paintings and furniture. It seemed like there wasn’t a cohesive theme to the place and he liked it. It was completely different from everything he knew but it seemed to put his mind at ease this time. The paintings were random as well, they were of landscapes, animals, abstract and realism, oils and watercolours, he felt like he just walked into a personal museum. Your couch was just as interesting to him. It was a dark brown covered with vibrant pillows that seemed completely out of place. Lars couldn’t imagine living in a place so visually chaotic, however knowing that it belongs to you, it captivated him.

“Alright, let’s go!” You appeared next to him. You followed Lars to the car and went in before he got on the road.

“We’re not gonna be too late, are we?” You asked. Even though he’d rarely respond to you, you thought maybe after last night he’d be more talkative. You were more than happy when he replied.

“Only 20 minutes, not a big deal.” He said softly. “Are you, uh… okay?”

“Me?” You were surprised he asked. “Oh, yeah! Sorry, I just… didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Oh…” he paused. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” you dismissed his apology, sounding more sincere than you were used to. “Happens a lot really, so I’m used to it.” You looked out the window as Lars pulled up to a red light.

He hesitantly turned his head to watch you, not doing it too fast in order to not catch your attention as you were looking out the window. He liked looking at you, it was easier when you weren’t looking back. He traced the outline of your face with his eyes, memorising every nook and curve. He remembered he also had trouble sleeping when he was living alone with his dad. That’s when he took up the hobby of chopping wood. He figured if he tires himself physically it’d be easier to fall asleep. “You can’t fall asleep?”

You turned your head to him, his gaze already back in the road. “More like waking up in the middle of the night and then struggling to go back to sleep,” you explained, “lots of weird dreams.”

Lars quietly hummed as he pushed the gas pedal at the green light. “What kind of dreams?” He tried asking as many questions as possible without sounding too nosy, he’s never been so curious about another person before.

You went silent, not sure how to elaborate on the subject. You were afraid of saying too much and scaring him off, having to reveal a deep dark secret of yours.

Lars noticed the shift in your mood, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have asked that-“

“No no, it’s okay! I was thinking too long,” you instantly took the blame away from him. “I- they’re about my mom, usually… she was… an interesting woman.”

“Was?” Lars’ voice slightly broke.

“Still is, she’s alive… I think. Haven’t spoken to her in years.” You rubbed your elbow with your palm, your body language immediately changing at the mention of your mother. Lars didn’t want to push you to speak if you weren’t comfortable, resulting in another quiet drive to work.

As you arrived at the habitual spot, he wanted to get out of the car before you so he could open your door, but chickened out at the last minute, considering it might be too early for that. Kurt was already raising his voice at Margo while you two walked in.

“How would you feel if I ripped your teddy bear’s head off!”

“It was an accident, I’m sorry!” Margo fearfully stood in front of an infuriated Kurt as he tried to click back a dismembered leg of one of his action figures.

“You have any idea how expensive these are?” He grunted and pointed at the plastic toy. “One of these costs more than ten of your stupid stuffed animals.” His voice was getting louder than the appropriate volume, making you want to step in and break them up.

“Hey, Kurt, it’s okay,” you walked up to him, “I can lend you some glue I got in one of my drawers, it’s pretty strong-“

“Don’t shove your nose into this!” He barked and pointed his finger in your face. You jolted at his swift movement and stepped back, instinctively lifting your arms to your abdomen to protect yourself.

Something in Lars shifted. He felt a strange pressure in his chest watching someone speak to you like that and startle you. Without thinking, he stepped forward and grabbed Kurt’s finger before pushing it down.

“Lower your voice.” He said quietly and stared into the shorter man’s eyes.

Kurt’s face scrunched in pain at Lars’ strong grip, letting out a quiet squeak. It took Lars a couple of seconds before he let go and waited for him to calm down. You and Margo stood there stunned, the two of you have never seen or thought it was even possible for Lars to behave this way.

Kurt pulled his hand back and shook it in pain before giving Margo an angry look and going back to his cubicle. Lars watched him until he got out of his eyesight before turning to you and assessing your face. After he decided you’re safe he gave you a smile and went to sit at his desk.

Speaking to you at work was still an obstacle for him and you sensed it so you didn’t approach him. You kept peeking at him and noticing he seemed pretty busy the entire day, constantly typing and writing down things in great concentration so you calmly waited to get off the clock for your unlabeled date after work.

Behind a thin wall near you, Lars already finished his tasks a long time ago. He was now discretely searching how to get a full night sleep and ensure good dreams. Jotting everything he found on a sticky note, he planned on bringing it up to you later today.

“I heard that… journaling can help with, um… irregular sleep,” he said out of nowhere in the car ride back home.

You looked at him fondly, not expecting him to remember it. “I already tried that,” you chuckled.

“And also med-“

“Meditating? Yeah, did nothing,” you smiled, making Lars do the same. You felt bad wanting to tell him that you tried every trick in the book. Well, except for one. “I’m only sleeping well when there’s someone with me,” you shared. “I read somewhere that sleeping with a body pillow can like, simulate a person? Or something? Spoiler: it was a waste of money,” you waved your hand in dismissal. Lars nodded, unintentionally keeping it in the back of his mind while suppressing the feeling of jealousy bubbling up and your mention of a person being with you in your past.

Lars parked his car near his apartment for the first time with you in the car, it felt different. Usually a change in routine would distress him, but this time he could confidently say that he was excited. After getting out of the car he showed you the collection of logs he kept in the backyard of his brother’s house, with an axe stuck in one that was placed on the ground. He pulled the sharp tool out and set a smaller log in front of him, quickly swinging into it and cutting it in half. Lars turned to you with a prideful smile, waiting for praise.

“You make it look so easy!” You exclaimed.

He played with the tool in his hand, not sure how to take the compliment wanted so badly. “Do you want to try?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m not very strong,” you rubbed the back of your neck, this was extremely out of your comfort zone.

“I can help you,” Lars said eagerly. You looked around to make sure no one is watching before running a hand down your face with a shy smile.

“Okay, fine,” you replied and Lars huffed in joy, setting up a new log. He handed you the axe and it immediately pulled you downwards, making you giggle. “I’m terrible at this.”

Lars came from behind you and slowly brought his hands to yours without touching you yet. He looked at your face, trying to find any uneasiness but was met with your smile instead. “You just gotta…” he whispered and held your hands, helping you raise the axe. “Lift it a little.” It was only the second time his skin touched yours and he wanted it to happen more and more. Your skin was soft and much nicer than anyone he’s ever come in contact with. He waited a second before helping you put some force into the swing, not too much in order not to harm you. The blade barely cut through the log, the end of it sticking on the rigid surface and falling to the ground comically.

“That was horrible,” you laughed and covered your face. Lars wanted to pull your arms away as he could see you. He never wanted to be in physical touch with someone so much before, but with you it all just felt safer somehow. “I think it’s better if you do the chopping and I’ll stick to painting,” you said and looked at him.

Lars nodded, remembering now what Gus suggested at the dinner table last night. “I can chop you a… canvas? Wood canvas?”

“A panel,” you chuckled. “Or a slice technically,” you looked at the logs.

Lars quickly assembled everything and cut you a thick slice of wood, wanting to be as useful as possible for you. “Like this one?” He held it to you to see if he produced something for your liking.

“Yeah!” You took it in your hands, inspecting the tiny slits. “It actually looks perfect.”

“What are you gonna paint on it?” He licked his bottom lip, another memory of the dinner coming to mind as he hoped you’re a person who keeps their promises.

“Well, I did say that if you chop me a piece I’d paint you so…” you tilted your head playfully, sharing the same memory. “We can go now if you’re not too busy-“

“No, let’s go.” He cut you off and began walking to the direction of your house. You blinked and let out a laugh, never seeing him so motivated to do something.

Arriving at your house, Lars found himself looking at your decorated wall once again while you brought a roll of sandpaper and scissors inside a box filled with brushes and tubes with worn out labels. “We gotta prime it first,” you told him and set it on the coffee table near your couch before sitting down. “Thank you for today by the way,” you began talking as Lars sat beside you. “With Kurt and stuff.”

Lars’ cheeks burned slightly, half from you thanking him and half from getting frustrated by recalling the incident. “No problem,” he said.

You rolled your sleeves and took the scissors to cut a piece of the grainy paper before sanding down the wooden slice. Lars watched you curiously, he noticed you appeared more calm all of a sudden and enjoyed seeing you in your element. He wanted to fill up the silence with something, but your scar caught his attention once again. He didn’t mean to stare but he couldn’t look away either. It seemed deep, the healed skin having a completely different texture than the rest of your arm. His leg began bouncing, already assuming the worst about your wound and wishing it didn't bother him as much as it did.

“You okay?” You him, pulling him out of his daze.

“Wha- oh yeah. Sorry.” He said as you looked around to see what could be bothering him. You wondered if it was the temperature in the room or perhaps he wanted something to eat or drink and you forgot to offer him, until you caught him glancing at your scar. Pulling your sleeve down in a hurry, you smiled awkwardly.

“Sorry, I didn’t notice.” You responded and went back to sanding the slice.

Lars felt horrible, it wasn’t his intention to make you ashamed of your scar. “No, I didn’t…” he searched for the right words for this situation. “I don’t mind it, I was just curious,” he admitted. He shut his eyes in anger and disappointment that he possibly ruined his chances with you so early on.

You took a deep breath, not meeting his eyes. You remembered all the times you had to explain yourself to people who asked you the simple question of ‘what happened’. It was one of those inquiries that always evolved into a session of getting your heart picked apart and being left bare by whoever talked to you. It was humiliating and painful so you always attempted to keep your answers as short and vague as possible to avoid being in this position.

Believing Lars had good intentions and wouldn’t push your limits, you thought it wouldn’t hurt as much to share. “It happened when I was a kid,” you regarded your mark. “My mom got mad at me for doing something- I don’t even remember what it was… she was holding a knife and just…” you paused and shrugged.

Lars took it all in, thinking about sharing some of his painful childhood memories as well as a way to connect with you but decided not to in an effort to not make it about him right now. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “that… you went through that, and that you had to tell me, I was being rude.”

You smirked, putting the paper to the side and opening a tube of clear liquid to pour on the smooth surface to spread with a brush. “Please, Lars. You’re the kindest person in the world.”

The simple compliment made Lars look away, his face was tingling and beat red. He scratched his cheek as he tried concentrating on your actions. A quiet ‘thank you’ slipped past his lips while he watched you suddenly get up and look around the room.

“The sun’s setting soon so we should get a good angle for the lighting.” You explained. “You can sit next to the door and I’ll open the blinds,” you continued, walking towards the window in your kitchen.

Lars became nervous, it dawned on him that he’d have to model for you. “H-how long does it take you to paint?”

“How long are you willing to sit?” You joked and walked towards him. “The fastest I can do is an hour, if that’s okay.”

Lars thought about it, this isn’t an ideal date for him. He wanted to get to know you as much as possible and let you talk for as long as you wanted. Hell, he’d listen to your entire biography if you offered him. Seeing how much you enjoyed creating art, he concluded that this might be the perfect date for you instead, and he was more than fine with that. “Yes.” He agreed.

Lars was sitting in a chair across from you at an angle where the sun was shining on most of his face. It was blinding him but he would’ve never complained in front of you, acting the part of the strong man you believe he is. You chatted with him through the process, trying to make him feel as comfortable as possible. He told you about the nearby lake he used to go to as a kid and convinced you to come with him to the treehouse he built that still stands in the same place all those years later.

The sun finally disappeared on the horizon, forcing your painting session to an end. “Okay, I definitely could’ve made it better if we had more time,” you began to defend yourself. Lars got up and made his way towards you, leaning over to catch a glimpse. You handed it to him, “here, but be careful it’s not dry yet.”

Lars’ eyes widened, he was looking right at himself. You managed to capture every single detail in his face, from the bump on his nose to the freckle near his eye. He never thought he’d look at himself and think that he looked beautiful and somehow you did it.

“Again, it’s not finished,” his silence made you scared that he might not like it.

“It’s incredible,” he huffed and turned to look at you. You failed at hiding your bashful smile, not used to getting compliments and from a guy you liked at that.

Lars felt an unfamiliar sensation in his gut, something that made him want to get as close to you as possible. He wasn’t sure what it was until his eyes scanned your lips and the feeling got stronger. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to lift you up in the air and spin you around so he could hear your laugh echo through your dim house. The feeling made him panic, his mind instantly spiraled into a series of thoughts about you not feeling the same way.

“Well, I better get going,” he turned towards the door, trying to run away from his own emotions. You were surprised at his sudden reaction but followed him either way.

“Sure! I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” You opened the door for him. “I promise to wake up in time,” you chuckled.

“Yes,” he stepped outside and looked at you again. “See you tomorrow.”

You wanted to hug him, even if it was only platonic for him, but it felt like Lars was always protecting his personal space and the last thing you wanted was to disrespect his boundaries. You softly yelled a ‘goodbye’ as he was already far away from you and closed the door, left in your empty house.

Lars couldn’t stop thinking about your sleeping habits, it bothered him more than he wanted to admit. The thought of you waking up from a nightmare and being all alone in a dark cold room made his stomach turn. He’s always been known for being an emotional guy, he sometimes hated this quality about him, thinking if he cared a little less about what’s going on around him he’d be much happier and content. No matter what Lars did, you wouldn’t leave his head all evening. The same envious emotion attacked him again in the shower as he remembered you bringing up sleeping better with someone around. He couldn’t shake it off, wishing that someone was him. He turned off the water and stepped out in frustration, debating whether or not he should get dressed and give you a visit.

It was nearly midnight and you were already getting ready for bed as you thought you heard a knock from the front of your house. Opening the door carefully, you sighed in relief seeing Lars’ familiar face. He was standing with a beanie covering his head and the coat you learned to recognise anywhere. In his hands was a light blue knitted blanket you’ve never seen before.

“Lars!” You called out his name excitedly, validating his feelings about whether or not to see you. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, I was, um, thinking…” he looked around the door frame to gather his thoughts. “You said you sleep better when you’re not alone…” Blood rushed to his face at the realisation of what he was insinuating. “I- I can sleep on the couch! I just thought it would help.” He scratched the back of his head, pulling his hair out of stress.

You couldn’t believe he offered to do that for you, you truly believed his kindness knows no bounds. You opened the door to invite him in. “I’d love that.”

After bringing him a collection of pillows and thick blankets, you stood in front of him as he sat on the couch. “The bathroom is right down the hall if you need it- oh! And feel free to take whatever you want from the kitchen!”

Your mood was instantly lifted once he was there and it filled Lars with immense pride.

“And if you want to leave that’s also fine, don’t feel pressured to stay because of me, I know the couch isn’t ideal-“

“No.” Lars cut you off. The idea of abandoning you in a time of need angered him. “I’ll be here.”

“Okay,” you smiled and brought your hands to your chest nervously, something Lars found to love about you. “So… see you in the morning.”

Lars wished you a goodnight before you parted and closed your bedroom door. He turned off the lights and got under the fresh smelling covers you provided. The couch you had was definitely smaller for a tall man such as him, but it didn’t bother him. In his head he sent himself on a mission to help you and nothing would distract him. Holding the baby blanket his mother made him, he closed his eyes and dozed off.

Quiet sounds of footsteps woke him up a few hours later, making him sit up and look around. He recognised your figure in the dark, far away down the hallway.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered and took a step back, “jus’... wanted to make sure you’re still here.” You quickly went back to bed after closing your door. Lars rubbed his eyes and figured that by the darkness from the outside it was the middle of the night, assuming you were woken up by a bad dream and wanted to make sure you weren’t alone. With this thought in mind he got up, grabbed a pillow and two of your blankets along with the one his mother made for him, and walked to your room.

He knocked gently before opening the door, “can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you replied and he opened the door all the way. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“‘S okay,” he shut the door behind him and set the long blankets on the floor with the pillow on top of them. “You should…” he got closer and handed you the baby blue material. “It’ll… help you.”

“Did you make this?” You grabbed the piece of cloth as he looked at it for a while before answering.

“My mom did,” he gave you a small grin and laid down on the cushioned floor, getting comfortable with his back turned to you so he could face the door.

You weren’t sure if he was as awake and alert as you were, considering most people are drowsy when they’re being woken up, but his simple action made you emotional and extremely flattered. “Thank you, Lars.”

“I’ll be watching the door, don’t worry,” he responded, having the need to show you he’s protecting you. For some reason it worked, you were able to fall asleep quicker than you were used to and every time you woke up during the night, a quick glance over to Lars made you feel relaxed. He kept changing positions from time to time, letting you get a good look of him while he slept. You thought he looked cuter than ever, his hair was all messy against the pillow and his face looked so peaceful. At one point you even had to stifle a laugh after hearing him softly snore, this is the best night you had in years.

As the morning came, Lars opened his eyes and took a few seconds to adjust to the sunlight peeking through your window. He stretched as he glanced at the walls of your room, now being able to see them more clearly. They were covered in posters of films and music artists and he even recognised a few. Looking to the side, he noticed your bed was empty. Panicking, stood up and opened the door of your room to see you do the same in the bathroom. A smirk crept on his face as he saw you brushing your teeth. Your hair was slightly messy and your face puffy, signaling you slept a good amount.

“Hm!” You turned to show him an unopened box of toothbrushes before giving him a thumbs. “Goo uni um los?” You pointed at him.

Lars furrowed his eyebrows and let out a laugh, “sorry?”

You spat the toothpaste out into the sink, “do you need some clothes? For work!” You brought the toothbrush back into your mouth as you waited for a response.

“I thought we could… visit the treehouse today.”

You thought for a moment and chuckled, “you wanna skip school today?”

Lars bit his bottom lip, “one day isn’t so bad right?”

You rinsed your mouth and closed the faucet as you wiped your lips clean, “not at all.”

Lars didn’t know if the day felt warmer or if you were just making his body feel hot by being so talkative on your way to the lake. You were moving your hands expressively as you told him a story about your childhood.

“And I was swinging hard, Lars, like I was probably two feet up in the air- and when I jumped off the swing I landed, BOOM, right on my face!” You facepalmed yourself for dramatic effect.

“Were you okay?” He asked, pleased by how comfortable you were around him.

“I was dizzy for two days straight after that,” you cackled, “never went on a swing again in my life.”

He wished he could’ve asked you if you were taken care of after that. Where were your parents or if you had any siblings that worried about you. His heart ached knowing you probably had to deal with these kinds of things all by yourself, not daring to bring up any bleak memories of not needed.

“Is this the treehouse?” You cut his train of thought and pointed at a large wooden structure. Lars nodded and you gasped in amazement. “Do you think it’ll fall apart if we try to go up there?”

“No, I go there all the time,” Lars motioned with his hand for you to follow him and he led you to the asymmetrical ladder leading to the creaky brown flooring. He watched you go up first, standing under you in case you needed help, and once you got up he joined you on the tree. You sat down slowly after crossing your legs, the cracking sounds making you slightly apprehensive about this idea.

“Are you sure it’s not going to break?” You laughed nervously.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” he breathed out as he sat down beside you, mirroring your position. He caught you looking away to hide your shy face and quickly spoke up, “I mean- it's sturdy.”

You both chuckled at the intimate moment and looked at the horizon. The lake was calm, reflecting barely tangible rays of sunshine over the water with a couple of ducks swimming in the distance. The wind was cold and crispy against your face, but you decided it was refreshing this time.

“I don’t show everyone this place,” Lars spoke up, making you look at him.

“So I’m special?” You acted coy. He wanted to plan his answer, not expecting to reply so quickly, but the words came out of his mouth before he managed to do so.

“You are.”

His vulnerability gave you confidence to reciprocate the feeling. “You’re special to me too, Lars.”

His eyes began welling up, forcing him to look away from you. You've never seen him like this and wondered if it’s happening because you’ve pushed the wrong button. “Hey, I’m sorry,” you scooched closer to him, sitting on your shins, “I just meant that you mean a lot to me-“

Lars closed the distance between the two of you, gently kissing you and resting his hands on your thighs. He pulled back swiftly, eyes darting from one feature to another to examine your expression. You stared at him, surprised that the Lars you thought you knew so well would pull something like this.

Anxiety was building up in his stomach, you weren’t saying anything and it made him think he misread the situation and made a huge mistake until you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in for a deeper kiss. It was sweet and tender, you could feel how scared he was that he might hurt you. He eventually pulled back, opening his eyes with delay as he was coming down from a high.

You both sat silently as the leaves around you ruffled peacefully. It was the first time in a while Lars felt a sense of serenity, and of all places, he found it with you.

“We should… come here more often,” he whispered.

“I agree,” you let out a quiet laugh. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

Lars smiled, rubbing his thumbs over your legs, looking forward to sharing more similar moments with you. “Thank you for baking me cookies.”

[alltoowsll]

So I have a new roommate now. The chore wheel’s pretty lopsided.

PROJECT HAIL MARY (2026) dir. Phil Lord and Christopher Miller

[goodsirs]

Dr. Ogilvie is just sitting out in the ambulance bay covered in blood. Kind of, uh, staring off into space. I tried to talk to him, but it was like he couldn't hear me.

The Pitt 2.13 "7:00 P.M."

[boromirswife]

A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms Appreciation Week ➝ Day 1: Favourite Character: Ser Duncan the Tall

[doloresrojo]

Animals can sense the good in people 🙂

[usergambit]

PETER CLAFFEY as SER DUNCAN THE TALL A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms S01E03 - 'The Squire'

[harrisonforded]

Jack O'Connell as Roy Goode Godless (2017) | Episode 5: Shot the Head off a Snake

[campmiasmas]

JOSH O'CONNOR as PATRICK ZWEIG in CHALLENGERS (2024) dir. Luca Guadagnino

[bongjoonhoe]

Josh O'Connor in Rebuilding (2025) dir. Max Walker-Silverman

[softhe4rted]

self-compassion: an antidote to shame mb

[goslinggf]

Aaron Moten as Maximus Fallout (2024—) 2.02 "The Golden Rule"

[tethered-heartstrings]

saw an ad for ai slop saying you can "write" ten times faster. its not writing if you are relying on ai. it's not creativity to use ai. it's theft. it's peak laziness. it's environmental destruction. it's useless. it's garbage. nothing about it is good or worthwhile or redeemable in any capacity.

[tethered-heartstrings]

countless scifi movies and stories painting the picture of how frightening robots and artifical intelligence taking over the human world could be and its happening now. it isn't even subtle. ai is destroying art, stealing art, making people doubt even real artists and their craft, destroying the fucking environment, using precious and limited resources like clean water, worsening our capability to think critically and independently and factcheck shit, mimicking real life people in videos and photos saying and doing things they never did. people are losing their literal jobs so a billionaire company can just use ai. they will try and use ai to take over any job they possibly can just to save money because they don't care about you and never have. a robot doesn't need to hold a gun to your head to take over your life, strings of code are already doing that. wake the fuck up

[knights-of-the-glittery-table]

Jack O'Connell as Lion Kaminski

Jungleland (2019)

[loo-nuh-tik]

28 Years Later: The Bone Temple (2026)

[dooberlane]

remmick

[kosmogrl]