Hi I was the anon with the request so this was my idea
The reader is a Black woman who lives alone on the outskirts of town. She’s always heard stories whispers of creatures that roam the woods at night. She doesn’t believe all of them, but she knows enough to trust her instincts.One night, Remmick shows up at her door. There’s something off about him, and she can tell. She doesn’t let him in but plays along, tricking him into slipping up, testing him with questions. It becomes a game. Every night, he returns. She keeps her distance, but there’s an undeniable connection growing between them. The more he visits, the more vulnerable he becomes. She sees a loneliness in him, something broken but still human.Then one night, he comes to her burned and bloody, barely standing. Without thinking, she rushes out to help him. As she brings him inside, he jokes weakly, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll hurt you?” She looks into his eyes and simply says, “No. I trust you.”Something inside him changes. For the first time in years, he craves more than blood he craves connection.As she cleans his wounds, his vampire side begins to slip through. He tries to hide it, ashamed, but she touches his face and tells him it’s okay. She’s not afraid. She sees him. And when he leans in for a kiss she returns it, without hesitation.
Note: Yay! My first request! Thank you anon! Sorry, this is kinda long and also took me longer than I planned because I restarted it about three times 😀 Unrelated, but I also just watched Little Fish for the first time yesterday and omg that movie hurts beautifully lol.
Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you like it! Feel free to send in more requests or just say hi. My inbox is open and the list of who I write for is on my pinned nav post.
masterlist
The screen door rattled against the wooden frame, the wood had begun to warp after the last big rainstorm, but the door still worked all the same. “Well, you grew into a beauty, didn’t you?” You hummed cutting a few bunches of herbs, planning on drying them out in the summer sun, the rays starting to beam down on everything below it. Stopping on the porch, you looked out to the woods, the trees and overgrowth so thick in parts that light couldn’t even touch the ground, much less give you visibility into the depths. You strung up the herbs to begin drying, heading back inside to do some other chores before you were heading off to pay Annie a visit.
You didn’t arrive back home from Annie's until the last rays of the sun were bleeding orange into the purple sky that was growing darker and darker by the minute. Stars began to dot the sky, twinkling in the still night. “You better get home. There’s unnatural things in those woods. Things that you can’t even imagine.” Annie’s words echoed in your mind as you latched the screen door closed upon entering and setting your things down. You opened it once more to light the oil lamp that had once shone a bright silver but now was weather worn and rusted. The flame caught, dancing in its little cage as it cast dim yellow light out into the darkness, shadows dancing on the wood and grass.
“Hm.” You dialed through the radio stations attempting to find one that came through clearly, but it seemed like there wouldn’t be one. You settled on one that only faded in and out slightly, the crackling and faint hum of music was a nice change from the silence. You sang along to the radio, spinning around your living room.
Three loud knocks wrapped against the wood, pulling you from your moment as you quickly crossed the living room, shutting the radio off and going towards the door when the knocks sounded again, though quieter this time, not as incessant. “Yes?” You questioned, opening the solid door just enough to look through, the screen door acting as a barrier between yourself and the outside world.
A man stood on the other side, shoulders squared and broad, hands in his dark wool pants pockets. He looked up when the door creaked open, dark eyes shining in the warm candlelight that reached out around you past the door.
“You have a real nice voice.” His voice was gravely and his words flowed slowly like he had all the time in the world. You remained quiet, dark eyes looking over the figure that still managed to keep most of himself cloaked in the darkness of the porch, the places where the moonlight didn’t quite reach. “I don’t mean to frighten you, Ma’am. I just had to tell you.” He nodded like he was trying to convince himself just as much as you.
“Thank you.” You looked around behind him. It was times like these that you wished you lived closer to town, closer to neighbors. The night was still and silent and the woods around were too dark to make out the shadows. “Why’re you out here?”
He looked behind himself before he looked back at you. “I was just walkin’.”
“This far out from town?” Your eyebrows furrowed as he shrugged, hands still lazily in his pockets and a crooked smile on his pale face.
“It’s quiet out here.” He states. “Good for thinkin’.” You nodded, stepping back and closing the door a little more.
“Too quiet sometimes.” His eyes raked over you with an unreadable expression that made a chill wrap around your spine and settle into your limbs. He looked at you like he knew you and he acted like he’d been in the area for a while with the way he seemed to stand rather comfortably on your porch, the wood creaking below him at his change of stance. “How long you been walkin’ for?”
“Not long. I only just started.” He took a breath but the way his chest rose and fell seemed too labored, as if for a split second he had just finished sprinting a full length marathon. There was something about it that didn’t look involuntary. His breath changed a second later, his shoulders rising and falling in a more normal pattern. Maybe he was sick with something? “You play any music?”
“Sir, it’s 10 o’clock in the evening.” You frowned after glancing at the clock on the wall by the door. He gave you a lopsided grin, looking down for a moment before he met your eyes again.
“You have to go?” He asked as your mouth opened and closed, glancing behind you as you gripped the doorknob tighter. You finally shook your head no as a slow smile spread across his face.
“Why’d you wanna talk to me so badly?” You shifted again at the door as he stood for a moment as if he were thinking.
“You got a nice voice.” He shrugged. “Ain’t nobody else out here.” He listed off. “Your neighbors said you’re a kind woman.”
“My neighbors?” You questioned. “Which neighbors?” Your closest neighbors were about a half mile up the road. You didn’t see them much, but they were nice nonetheless. They always gave you extra crops they had when the seasons changed and you babysat for them a couple times when one of them had to go out of town and the other couldn’t take off to watch their young children.
“Uh.” He paused, looking down with furrowed eyebrows. His head tilted to the side when he looked at you again. “That family up that way…The Johnsons?” You nodded slowly, eyes narrowing.
“Why you speakin’ to my neighbors about me?” You opened the door, grabbing a rolling pin from the kitchen table and holding it up just enough for him to get the message. “You know me or something?”
“No…” He trailed off, voice quieter than before. “But I’d like to.”
“What’s your name?” You lowered the rolling pin, but still kept it in your hand.
“Remmick. What’s yours?”
“(Y/n).” You still eyed him cautiously as you set the rolling pin down again. “You best be going now, Remmick. It’s getting late.”
“I’ll come back tomorrow, then.” He didn’t ask a question and you didn’t protest, simply closing the door when he had stepped off the porch and began to walk back to the road.
He did come back the next day, just as the sun had set over the horizon and you had lit your lamps. “You came back.”
“You never said I couldn’t.” He shrugged, this time sitting on your porch steps. “When you gonna let me come in properly to talk to you?”
“When I know why a strange man showed up at 10 o’clock last night trying to talk to me about music.” You answered dryly as he cracked a smile, a chuckle coming from somewhere in his chest.
“I ain’t a stranger no more. You know my name.” He pointed out as you nodded.
“Remmick.” You dragged his name out as his eyes shifted to you from where he had been looking at his well worn brown boots. You couldn’t really decipher much from his gaze other than a little amusement from what you had said. “That just means you’re not a nameless stranger. My grandma’d be having a heart attack right now.” You added the last sentence under your breath. He didn’t laugh but he let out a breath in a huff that made it seem like he almost laughed.
“Why? Because you live alone?” You shook your head no.
“My grandma always told me growing up that nothing good ever comes to your door at night. Nothing good really ever happens at night.” You shrugged as you saw his freeze. His shoulders relaxed a second later as he smiled softly, not showing his teeth.
“Grandmas are all the same that way, huh?” You nodded with a laugh. “Superstitious.”
“Where you from Remmick?” You questioned after a period of silence. “Like really from?” You added when he looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Here.” He laughed as you rolled your eyes. “I been here for a long time.” His voice grew quiet and looked out into the woods, his eyes getting this hazy far away look to them before he cleared his throat with a shake of his head as if breaking a trance.
“You got a family?” You asked next as he shook his head.
“Just me. Just me for a while now.” He looked down at his hands. “My parents been gone a long time now. They weren’t long for this world.”
“That sounds real lonely.” You told him quietly. He looked over at you before his eyes flashed towards the door, just for a split second before going back to you. “And you don’t have any brothers or sisters or cousins or…” You stopped speaking when he shook his head no.
“You live out here by yourself, ain’t you lonely?” He stretched, his back cracking as he hummed in satisfaction before settling back against the wall.
“No, I’ve got my chickens and cow and they keep me plenty busy.” You glanced over at the barn and chicken coop on the edge of the property by the creek bed. “Plus I see the Johnsons from time to time. When people need me they know where I am.”
“I find it hard to think you live out here alone.” He looked into your eyes when he said that as your eyebrows furrowed and your head tilted to the side.
“Why’s that so hard to believe?” You crossed your arms over your chest which caused him to look down at your chest before he looked away. “You don’t think women are capable of doin’ things by themselves? It’s the 30s now, things are changing.”
“No it ain’t that.” He waved off. “I’m just surprised that you ain’t got a husband out here with you.”
“Why’s that, Remmick?”
“You gonna make me say it?” He gave you a lopsided smile again. His eyes glinted in the moonlight and heat rose in your body and across your face as you dropped eye contact. “You keep a nice house, you got animals and land, and you’re real nice to be around. Any man woulda jumped at that chance.” He shrugged as if he was simply just making objective observations.
“I gave somebody a chance once.” Your voice grew soft and hoarse as if you were attempting to talk around a lump in your throat. “I learned my lesson. He was a liar and a cheat.” You shook your head, curls moving with the motion before settling back around your face. “I left and came here. Everything I did here, I did for myself and by myself.”
“He ever try to come back around?” Remmick’s voice grew low and cold, a strange glint in his eye you hadn’t ever seen before but in a split second it was gone when he shifted his gaze away from you and back out to the road.
“He tries just about every damn month.” You laughed bitterly, grabbing his attention when he heard you shift from your spot. “That’s what I got this for.” You held up the shotgun you kept by the door with an innocent smile causing Remmick to smile and chuckle.
“You’re somethin’ alright.” He said to himself, the smile still on his face. He stands up after a moment more, stretching again before his hands find his pockets. “I best be goin’ now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He didn’t ask again, but you still nodded anyway. This time closing the door with a small smile on your face.
The next night you couldn’t help but sit at near the door watching the sunset behind the trees and over the horizon. “Rem-”. Your voice caught in your throat when it wasn’t the nice yet mysterious man you’d been talking to for the past few nights. “Tom, get the hell outta here!” You yelled as your ex-husband pushed through the screen door. One of his calloused hands ensnared your wrist, gripping it tightly as he pulled you towards him.
“Gimme the money you owe me!” He bellowed as he held you tightly. That didn’t stop you from kicking and thrashing, trying anything to get out of his grasp and to the gun that sat neatly perched against the table.
“Get the hell off me! I don't owe you shit!” You dug your nails into his arms, but it only made him hold you tighter in his grasp as he slammed the front door closed and threw you to the floor. Your head hit the floor and you didn’t really remember anything after that.
Sunlight poured through the windows and into your eyes as you cracked them open, groaning as you lifted your head and staggered to your feet. A dull ache sat at the base of your skull as you looked around the room. “What the hell?” The entire house looked like a tornado had ran through it, curtains torn from the windows, chairs knocked over and one of them was broken. Your kitchen was in a state of disarray you had never seen before. Pots and pans lay scattered, food thrown about, jars half empty and broken with glass shattered on the counters and floors. Your bedding was pulled back and off the bed, bedside tables with the left half open or completely removed. You stumbled to the jar you kept in the back of your pantry, you had painted it so it wasn’t see through anymore. Unscrewing it quickly, hot tears welled up in your eyes when you saw it was completely empty. All that money you had been saving away, had worked for, put in extra shifts for, sold herbs and crops for, was gone, probably burning a hole in Tom’s pocket.
The knock at the door caught you off guard that evening. You set down the broom, leaning it against the table as you reached for your gun, cocking it as you opened the door and pointed the barrel out. “Woah (Y/n). I do somethin’ wrong?” Remmick joked, before his smile dropped and he took in your appearance and the state of your home.
“Oh.” You set the gun down with a shaky breath, before you looked back at Remmick and then at the state of your living room. “I lost track of time.”
“What’s happened?” He questioned, voice tight and eyebrows knitted together. His hands were at his side, balled into fists before he flexed them and then balled them up again.
“Nothin’.” You froze. “Nothin’.” You repeated again, firmer this time, as if you believed it now. “I just…” You couldn’t come up with anything so you just let the words die on your tongue as Remmick shook his head, dark eyes swirling with anger and something you couldn’t quite place.
“You hurting?” His voice was softer, standing right in front of you now, the only thing separating you was the screen door, or what was left of it.
“It’s just some bruises.” You waved off.
“It was him wasn’t it?” His jaw tightened as he said the words.
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter.” He shook his head at your dismissal. “Why do you care? Tom’s my cross to bear, not yours, Remmick.”
“Because you’re a good person (Y/n). Too good.” His southern drawl seemed to thicken as his knuckles turned white. “He had no right to come through here like that.” He stepped back from the door.
“Where you going?” You called after him as he stopped mid-stride, turning his head just enough to look over his shoulder.
“I forgot to hang my laundry. I’ll be back soon.” He called, running off down the trail without waiting for an answer from you.
By the time he returned the holes in the screen door had been patched up with tape and when you opened the door again your place looked relatively back to normal. He walked back up onto the porch, hands in his pockets, though they were different pants this time, a cocky smile pulling at his lips. “You look nice.” You complimented his shirt which was also a different color, one that complimented his eyes and contrasted his hair in just the perfect way.
“Thank you, Darlin’.” Heat rushed to your face at the nickname. You decided not to ask any questions when you saw him picking at his nails or that his lips looked stained, like he had drank dark wine on the way back to your house.
“You ever wonder what else is out there?” Your back was against the wall just by the threshold as he sat mirroring you on the porch. The screen door now left open along with the other more solid door.
“What’d you mean?”
“Just…” You paused as if trying to find the right words. “That the world’s so big and yet I’ve never left the Delta. Feels like if you went somewhere else you could be just about anything you’d want to be.” You sighed, eyes tilted towards the stars.
“There’s alotta stuff out there.” He agreed.
“You traveled?” You sat up then as he smiled at the shine in your eyes.
“Yeah I’ve seen things.” He agreed. “I didn’t like all of it though.”
“What’s your favorite place?”
“Besides right here next to you?” You rolled your eyes with a laugh. He paused for a second and you watched as a slow smile grew on his face as he crossed his arms. “Ireland.”
“Tell me about it?” You asked, your head leaning back against the wall as he nodded before taking a breath.
“It’s real pretty.” He sounded wistful now, eyes closing with a smile on his face. “There’s these rolling green hills right by the coast. They go on for miles and miles. It’s just nothin’ but farmland out there. It’s perfect in the summer. The grass is tall and soft and you could just lay on those hills for hours and listen to the waves lapping at the rock. I used to do that all the time.” He chuckled to himself, voice soft as velvet. “My parents used to get worried because I’d disappear for hours, but I’d just be there in the grass or with the cows.”
“It sounds beautiful.”
“I never told anybody about that.” He opened his eyes as you grinned at him.
“Was that home?” Your voice was just above a whisper as he nodded. “You miss it?”
“Every day.” Your hand reached out for his, lightly settling over it as you felt him go rigid. His dark eyes focused in on your hand before finding your eyes. You smiled at him as you felt his cool touch on your fingertips. He turned his hand up as you settled your hand back in his, interlacing your fingers.
“You’re cold.” You whispered.
“I run cold.” He said before you noticed the dark blue veins that peaked from under his shirt sleeve. They looked strange against his pale skin, but you didn’t say anything.
“Why haven’t you tried to come inside?” You asked, your voice still soft. “Any other man woulda barged in here by now, but not you.” He didn’t say anything, just sat there as the crickets chirped into the night. You looked down at his hand again. “You hear about Tom? Some woman in the general store was sayin’ that her husband found him face down in the mud with all the pigs around him.” You turned only slightly, feeling him freeze for a moment before he relaxed.
“Hm.” He hummed, eyebrows raising and mouth opening just slightly. “No, that’s a shame.” Remmick hadn’t even tried to sound surprised or disgusted. If anything, some happiness seeped into his eyes before he returned to his neutral expression. “A real shame.” He added with a nod after a moment.
“I know you did it, Remmick.” He froze again, his eyes searching your expression before looking away and then back at you again as he swallowed, like a guilty child that had just been found out.
“Wha-”
“Don’t lie to me.” Your whisper had the excuse dying on his lips as he closed his mouth and simply looked back at you. “You got this look in your eye…like a coyote or something…then you disappeared and Tom turns up with the pigs.”
“I didn’t do anything that motherfucker didn’t deserve.” He reasoned, voice steady and unapologetic. The crickets chirping filled the growing silence between you.
“How many?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you looked down at your lap, hands on either side of you feeling the woodgrain below you, no longer ghosting over his icy skin.
“(Y/n)...”
“How many, Remmick?” You repeated a little louder this time. “How many times you done something like that?”
“(Y/n)...” You watched his mouth open and close before he frowned while looking down. It was as if something had broken behind those black eyes that you had grown fond of. He reached his hand towards yours, but you pulled it away and turned to look at him more, just over the threshold and just out of reach no matter how much he wanted to touch and hold you. “Please.” He whispered.
“I know what you are.” You told him as he seemed to flinch at that, cowering away as if searching for a shadow to creep into. “Why you can’t come in unless invited, why you only come around at night. Why you’re so pale and cold to the touch…” You trailed off. “My grandma told me about ‘em. About vampires.” You stood now as you looked at where he was still sitting, refusing to meet your eyes. “I think you should go home, Remmick.” You said softly before stepping back and closing the door.
You sighed as you went over to your bed and laid down. The man that you had grown fond of, that made your heart beat a little faster and cheeks heat up, was no man at all, at least he hadn’t been for a long time.
The next day you didn’t light the lantern or open the door, instead turning the radio on and deciding to stay inside and work on the quilt you had started ages ago but never finished. You were in the middle of stitching part of the border up when you heard a commotion in the distance, something that sounded like horses and yelling.
Letting the needle and fabric fall to the floor you stumbled quickly towards the door, throwing it open when you saw him fall into the dirt just as the sun was setting. The screen door slammed against the wall as you raced down the steps, the old wood creaking from your quick movements. “Remmick?” Your eyes widened as you saw the angry burns, still smoking faintly, that littered his arms and chest, his shirt ripped and bloody, his hair pointing in different directions. “Remmick? Hey, can you hear me?” Your words flew out of your mouth as you looked towards the woods where the shouting was coming from in the distance and then back towards your porch. You held his face in your hands, moving his hair from his face as you tried to assess the worst of his wounds. You helped him stand, a groan escaping his lips at the exertion.
“(Y/n).” Your name slipped from his lips as he groaned again, his leg buckling as he fell against you.
“It’s alright, Remmick.” You reassured him as you tried to get him back inside before whatever or whoever was chasing him finally caught up. “We gotta get you inside, but you gotta help me alright? I can’t do this by myself.” He nodded weakly as you helped him stand up again, leaning heavily into you, as you finally got him closer to the house. “You ain’t afraid I’ll hurt you?” He said, trying to crack a joke with a hint of a smile on his face, voice barely above a whisper and hoarse as if he’d not drank water in days. You shook your head immediately with a frown on your lips.
“No.” Your voice was firm and unwavering. “I trust you.” You told him and you saw something in his eyes when he glanced at you as you said that. “Now, come on.” You positioned his arm around your shoulders as you grabbed his belt loops and helped him up the porch and to the threshold. “You’re gonna be just fine, alright? You’re gonna come on in and we’re gonna fix you up.” You told him, though you were also trying more to convince yourself. “You’ll be right as rain, okay?” He didn’t answer you but you set him on the couch, quickly slamming and locking both doors behind you.
You quickly grabbed your bandages and supplies, setting them down in front of the couch as your eyes scanned over him. His breathing was even more abnormal than you had noticed before and his wounds weren’t healing like you had heard about. “Why aren’t you healing fast like you’re supposed to?” You asked as you poured some alcohol onto a bandage and held it one of the bad wounds. He groaned loudly, hissing when it made contact with his skin. “I’m sorry.” You said softly, giving him your hand to hold. “Some of these are real bad.” You continued the process of soaking gauze in alcohol and cleaning his wounds, letting him squeeze your hand when you’d do it. He never squeezed hard enough to hurt you though, even though you knew he was in excruciating pain, he still managed to hold himself back.
The banging on your door pulled you away from the couch, letting his hand go weakly as you grabbed the shotgun, loading it and cocking it as you swung the door open. “Get goin’.” You said, pointing the shotgun at the group of men gathered around.
“Ma’am, you seen a white man around these parts? He killed our friend.”
“You comin’ to my door asking about Tom?” You chuckled humorlessly. “Take that shit somewhere else. I haven’t seen no white man around here.”
“Will you let us just look around? Something about him ain’t right.” The man at the your door said. You assumed he was closer to your ex-husband than the rest of them. “What he did to Tom wasn’t right and it wasn’t natural.”
“Now you motherfuckers need to get the hell off my porch.” You waved the gun at them again. “I don’t care what happened to Tom, that man was evil walkin’. Now get goin’ before I start shootin’.” You fired the gun, it kicking back as it blasted a hole through the screen door, causing the men to flee while muttering curses at you.
You closed and locked the door again before rushing back over to Remmick. He looked more alert as he adjusted himself and sat up properly on the couch, an amused grin on his face as you huffed and set the gun down by the kitchen table.
“You look a little better.” You smiled, going towards the bottle of alcohol and grabbing more gauze. “I need to finish, alright? I don’t know if vampires can get infections, nobody’s told me that, but I don’t want to find out. Not when it’s you.” His eyes shone as he looked at you, his irises dark as night but looking at you as if you had put the stars in the sky.
“Shit!” He hissed loudly as you held the gauze to his side.
“Sorry.” You whispered as he shook his head, eyes closed and head falling back against the back of the couch. When the sting died down, he lifted his head and opened his eyes watching you lift the edge of the gauze to see if he had started healing there before holding it back against his pale flesh. “Wow.” You whispered as his eyes met yours.
The once dark irises now shone an astonishing deep ruby, glittering as if the sun was shining in them as he watched you. “Your eyes.” You whispered. He turned his gaze away from you quickly, squeezing his eyes shut as his breathing changed, becoming deeper as if he was trying to concentrate on something. “Am I hurting you again?” Your eyes looked back at his wounds before looking back at his face. He shook his head no quickly.
He was biting his bottom lip now as he turned his head to the side and away from you. His nostrils flared almost as if he was inhaling something before he cleared his throat. “Remmick, are you alright?” You asked, growing even more concerned. You abandoned the gauze, standing in front of him between his outstretched legs, holding his face in your hands. “Remmick look at me.” You whispered as he shook his head no.
“Don’t wanna scare you.” He sounded pained as if he was actively struggling.
“You won’t.” Your thumbs ran against his cheeks and he slowly turned his head to look at you, his eyes opening slowly. “I promise.” You added as you looked into his ruby colored eyes.
“I’m a monster.” He whispers as you shake your head quickly. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” You saw a small glimpse of the razor sharp fangs as he spoke.
“I want to see you.” Your thumb ran against his bottom lip. “All of you. Don’t hide from me.” His lips parted as he looked at you again, really looked at you, causing your chest to warm before the feeling spread to your whole body. No one had ever looked at you like that.
He took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. His touches were soft and gentle, like whispers against your skin. He didn’t say a word as he pulled you closer to him, sitting you down on his lap as his other hand went to your cheek, his thumb running against your lips before he moved closer to you. “Can I-” His voice was a whisper as you nodded and your eyes closed just as his lips touched yours. They were soft and cold against your own as your hands went to his shoulders and then his hair. He placed his forehead against yours, breathing out when you both pulled away for air. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” You smiled at the dazed look in his eyes and the small smile on his lips.
Flower Delivery
crazy ex!Nicholas Alexander Chavez x black!reader
Request: Hi! Can you make a story about Nicholas Chavez being obsessed and real crazy if that’s fine!
Warnings: gaslighting and obsessive behavior, language
word count: 1.2k
Note: Fair warning this is my first time writing long form content in a while and my first request. Thanks so much for requesting and I hope you like it!
part two
part three
masterlist
You opened the shiny silver trailer door with a sigh, your eyes cutting left and right as you quickly clicked the door closed behind you. Silence enveloped you, a stark contrast from the hustle and bustle outside. Flopping down on the small beige sofa near the window of your trailer, you reached an arm out, haphazardly feeling for your phone as you tried your best not to move from your comfortable position.
You finally grabbed your phone after a few tries, glancing at the various notifications on the screen. “Nothing important.” You mumbled to yourself as you placed the phone down on the coffee table. You glanced up at the table that was beside the full length mirror, your eyes being drawn there due to the pop of colors that screamed against the basically designed trailer that only utilized various shades of creams and whites.
“No…wh-how?” Slipped from your lips, filling the silence as you stood and took a few hesitant steps towards the beautifully arranged flowers. A sinking feeling began to grow in the pit of your stomach, combining with a growing anger that only seemed to bubble up more the moment your hand touched one of the delicate yellow petals.
A small white card with your name scrawled in intricately looped lettering caught your attention from beside the vase. “My (Y/n), I always knew you’d be a star. Love, Nick.” You gritted your teeth, tossing it back on the table as you rolled your eyes. “What the fuck?” You inhaled sharply. "Oh my God, what the fuck!" You repeated as you grabbed your phone once again, clicking the contact you didn’t really have to spend much time searching for, and clicking dial.
It only rang twice before the line connected. “Hi (Y/n).” You could hear the smile growing on his face already, your nails turning white around the phone that was pressed to your ear, your lips pulling into a firm line. “I take it you got my flowers?”
“I told you to stop.” Your tone was deceivingly calm as you closed your eyes and let out a breath.
“Stop what, love?”
“Don’t call me that.” You instantly replied as he chuckled into the line. “Stop sending me things. Stop it. We aren’t dating anymore. It’s been a year, just stop.”
“I sent you flowers every week.” A chill ran up your spine as his tone switched from the lighthearted one to a much more serious and strangely calm one. You could picture his face now, devoid of emotion and dark eyes staring straight at you with a calculating look as if he were assessing you.
“Well we aren’t together. We haven’t been for a year.” You reminded him again as you heard him scoff.
“You didn’t know what you wanted. I know you (Y/n). We’re better together. Just trust me.”
“No.” You shook your head, although he couldn’t see you. “You don’t get to do that anymore. You have no idea what I want or need because you’re a fucking psycho!”
“Don’t be so dramatic (Y/N). You’re confu-”
“I know what you did with Sam.” You cut him off. “He showed up at my place last month going on about how two-faced I supposedly am. How he was so lucky some ex of mine told him that I’m a serial cheater, that I cheated on him too. Then the ex told him that I’ve been sleeping with him since before I even met Sam, let alone started dating him, because I’m still in love with my ex.” A humorless laugh left your lips at the absurdity of it all. “I know it was you and you know none of that is true."
"Hm." He didn't say anything, neither confirming or denying your accustation. But you both knew the truth, it hung heavy in the air.
"He broke up with me." You could picture the look of satisfaction that crossed his face. "This is the third time, Nicholas."
“He’s not good enough for you. He’s a douche and a scumbag and he's been that way since high school. He uses people to social climb.” Nicholas brushed it off. “You think I’d allow him to hurt you? Damage your reputation? Make you another one of his conquests? I was protecting you.”
“No. You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to decide who I can and can’t talk to!” Your voice raised as you messed with your hair, a nervous habit that you didn’t realize you did until Nicholas pointed it out one time when you were over for a movie night. “And you need to stop showing up at my place. You’re scaring Mrs. Mills.” You added referring to your elderly neighbor who was the one that told you sometimes a car would come by late at night and park in front of your home then leave after 30 or so minutes. Always the same car.
“That woman doesn’t even know what day of the week it is most of the time. You really are going to believe her over me? That's insane. She's damn near senile.” He sounded offended now, his tone short and tense.
“Nick, I'm done, seriously. Loose my fucking number.” You said finally, hanging up and immediately blocking his contact. You jumped as a loud knock sounded from the other side of your trailer door.
That couldn’t be him. Could it?
You opened the trailer door just enough to stick your head out.
“Are you alright (Y/N)? You look like you saw a ghost or something.” It was just one of the studio interns coming to get you from the filming break. She laughed lightly, her blue eyes shining almost as much as her dark glossy hair in the sunlight. You let out a forced laugh, your mouth rising into a smile that did not reach your eyes, and frankly looked more like a grimace than anything close to a smile.
“Sorry. I-I was just lost in thought.” You tried to cover for your awkward reaction as she nodded, looking you over once again before the smile returned to her face.
“They’re ready for you on set again.” She told you as you nodded and grabbed your phone off the table before following her out and towards the stage. You should’ve grabbed those flowers and thrown them in the dumpster that was on your way to the stage from your trailer. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t.
You glanced back once, worried you may have forgotten to lock your trailer, you couldn’t remember if you had or hadn’t. Your foot caught on your shoelace as your eyes locked with the all too familiar dark brown ones that had once made you smile.
He watched you stumble, his eyebrows raising as a hint of a smile appeared on his lips at your blunder. You gasped, looking around to see if anyone else was seeing the man who was not supposed to be on set or if this really was a figment of your imagination.
“Are you okay?” The intern spun around and asked, concern written all over her face. “I’ve been trying to tell people on set about that hole. They really need to repave this. You aren’t hurt are you?” She was talking a mile a minute as you blinked at her and simply nodded, glancing back in the direction of your trailer to find nothing there. No Nicholas after all.
