you contemplated if being a blaring goat in a herd of sheep would last through multiple lifetimes.
once, you would’ve played along with the roles.
as you’ve grown older, you've stopped.
your ego grew stronger. you developed your identity. you knew who you were.
you were you. so you’ve long stopped playing a role that wasn’t yours, in a body that wasn’t yours.
hence, maybe that's why the reflection staring back at you was utterly eerie to you.
ms. hunter was headstrong and stubborn. she would not hesitate to put sylus in his place when needed, whilst still being bright and ever determined. she was sociable. ambitious. ms. hunter was a flame that would not, could not go out. artificially made as she was in a lab, she truly represented the death and rebirth of planets. she could not die.
well. this body couldn’t die. her mind was a different story. you inhabited this body now.
as similar as you are, you felt that it — this body — was still grossly not yours.
a distant hum buzzes in your head, a faint echo of what once was. there would always be a trace of a habit that you haven’t exactly picked up. picking a hang nail, being overtly jumpier than usual, nearly kicking over a coworker behind you, a muscle jerk here and there (which you always traced up to nerves, except your arm jerked once while you were brushing your teeth and toothpaste smeared over your cheek).
and now this.
you were never afraid of thunderstorms. so you didn’t understand why your hands couldn’t stop shaking. why there were an overwhelming instinct screaming at you to find somewhere safe.
hide. hide. hide. find cover. somewhere safe. oh my GOD run, your body tells you, your muscles unnaturally tense.
like any good ole’ fashioned college student, you decided to lock yourself in your restroom.
this apartment bathroom was no bigger than a shoebox, but it was in way better condition than the old ones you’ve encountered. the mirrors were polished, toilet was clean, counters wiped white to strip mold, and the bathroom curtains hadn’t broke. hell, even the shower floors were extremely clean.
you tried to look at your—her reflection.
you ran a hand through your tousled hair. you had a similar cut compared to hers. medium, almost to both of your shoulders. dark brown, sleek, and somewhat thin. then came your body type — unsurprisingly muscular and toned underneath the uniform due to her job.
you stared, startled by what stares back at you in turn. what once was smooth coffee brown, now held specks of molten fire bleeding around oak.
you gingerly touch the skin underneath your eyes. great. another reminder about how much your body wasn’t yours.
sighing deeply, you rub your eyes with your palm and lean over the sink. fuck. were there a pair of gloves and some bleach you could use to clean the bathroom up? you might as well since this wasnt exactly your home.
you lean down to open the cabinet.
“you don’t sleep in the mornings, and you don’t sleep at nights either. you have more energy than i do, sweetie.”
you whirl around, about ready to throw a punch until a pair of red eyes stare down at you.
sylus?
“what the hell are you doing here?” you blurt out, eyes wide.
sylus gives you a dry look over his reading glasses, effortlessly spinning a ball pen around his fingers while leaning against the door frame. “you forgot that you gave me the keys, kitten?”
you roll your eyes, sighing. “you came in here without even telling me.”
“it’s more fun when you’re encountered with surprises. but cleaning? on such a lovely night?” sylus clicks his tongue, tilting his head.
the counter feels cool against your fingertips when you lean over, moving the items on the counter down towards the floor. you don’t even look at his reflection, even if you feel like your cheeks were burning. “yeah, yeah. not everyone pays someone to do it like you do.”
“on the contrary, there are things i prefer to do myself, sweetie.” drawls sylus, picking out dirt from his nails with a small, hearty chuckle. “like visiting you for example.”
you turn your face away, very deliberately hiding the heat threatening to build up to your cheeks.
it was very hard to shake his gaze off you at that moment. his eyes bore into your form like a laser pointed at your head, a target.
you shifted, rolling your shoulder blades back. “whatever. why are you here?”
sylus averts his gaze and pauses for a moment. “well, it seems like a certain kitten forgot to answer my texts. seems like she’s gone to places even i can’t come to. i was wondering if she had to hide to lick her wounds.”
your mouth goes dry, lips twisting from the implications of it.
“sylus, i—”
“come.” sylus gestures, crooking his hand as he straightens up.
silence fills the cold night sky, only your breaths creating condensation into the air. you took your place at the rooftop, watching fog cloak the N109 zone in its embrace. it never left the N109’s zones side, not even once. even if tall sky scrapers below you occasionally peeked out, the fog would smooth it over.
your hands twitch on the rails you were holding, thumb running over the cold metal.
maybe you should’ve known better than to accept his request immediately. a frown threatens to grow on your lips as you squinted. the city lights were no better than fireflies from where you and sylus were at, but they were still so bright at such a close proximity despite the N109 zone being so foggy.
you grimaced at the sudden change of light, holding up a hand in attempt to ease your sight.
sylus took you here — more or less as a distraction. both of you had climbed an abandoned sky scraper just to watch the city uptop from here, streaks of painted graffiti and some rust coming off from your calloused hands.
“you’ve never been so sensitive to light before.”
you slowly turn your head to see sylus flipping a coin nonchalantly. he stands right next to you, his demeanor an open sort of playful nonchalance. he lazily traces the coin’s patterns in his fingers, red irises flicking to your expression.
he wore such a casual outfit; a graffiti’d leather jacket with a dark low cut v-neck underneath, exposing his cleavage, ripped jeans, and chains strapped in a half-loops to accessorize his look. on top of this, he wore a choker with a small buckle to accessorize his look.
you’ve never seen him wear anything akin to streetwear before. it almost throws you offtrack until you remember how oddly on-brand it was for him despite his practiced elegance.
you open your mouth, then close it. you side-eye him. “and what about it?”
sylus shrugs. “it’s interesting,” he drawls, his gaze lingering. “i wonder if the N109 zone has truly changed you all that much.”
you keep your face composed, instead looking at him as if he said something so incredulous and on point. “i’m going to need you to legally shut up for five minutes.”
sylus smiles. “you know the law has never applied to me, sweetie.”
fuck this guy.
you launch up in your attempt to strangle him, staggering up to reach his height. sylus allows himself to bend back quite a bit, going along with your attempts with a hearty laugh rumbling through his chest.
“you've got to try harder to catch your prey."
"shut up!" you, with a stroke of luck, deliver a solid smack square on his chest.
unfazed (much to your frustration), sylus leans back and raises both brows. he gives you this look — him tilting his head back, red eyes glinting with undeniable mischief. “make me.”
so you do.
you leap up to smother his mouth with your palm, which, unbeknownst to you, was bait because he hoists you up by your waist effortlessly, keeping you levelled with his head. your bodies press against each other for the first time in a long while.
sylus reaches up with his other hand to gently pry your hand away from his mouth. he captures it, intertwining his fingers over yours with an amused glint in his eyes. “oh? you’ve gotten bold. after depriving me, here i thought you were avoiding me.”
ah.
“i’m… not avoiding you.” you pause, trying to scramble for the words to articulate your loss of reaction. “it’s just— when we had that conversation before, i just didn’t know how to… process everything. i’m—i thought you didn’t want me around because of…”
you gesture uselessly to your body, then your brain. “this body still isn’t… ”
sylus levels with you eye-to-eye. his voice, usually so sure and filled with confidence, softens. “silly thing. i told you, i would get to know you again. didn’t i?”
“it’s.. it's not me though.”
“then we’ll make it yours again.”
sylus was not unfamiliar with change— of feeling out of place in one's own body.
a millennia of different lifetimes. centuries of different births in different circumstances. each time, viewed as an other. an outcast. a monster.
he's long since met peace with it.
the thing about him —ever since you became a shadow of the young woman who owned this body, until you were born into consciousness— was that he was perceived as cruel and dangerous.
perhaps, in many ways, he is. perhaps he was tired too.
he never attempted to hide that, and had unapologetically put it all out in the open. he had even done so much to emphasize this. to warn you to what you were getting into.
“my “business“ isn't what normal people imagine it to be. so taking someone who's not used to my way of life is like carrying a firearm that doesn't fit in your hand. It can be a liability,” he had said once. sylus did not even look at miss hunter when he said this, polishing his firearm with the finesse of experience.
you had just glared at him, as stubborn as you'll ever be.
he wasn't worried. you would catch up soon to him.
“allow me to jog your memory. from your past to your future... to even all the crimes you'll inevitably commit. after all, you and I... we're the same. true kindred spirits."
perhaps that was why it was so easy for him to help you with this matter. and perhaps that was why you opened up to him about feeling so out of place — a little more quickly than he's used to.
your body could change. your mind could change. your soul, however...
always so consistent, he thinks as he watches you turn around to asses the outfit he picked for you -- a fur coat reaching down to your thigh with leopard patterns inside, a black lace-shirt inside, fur-lined shorts with fishnets to hug your bare skin.
you've long since styled your hair differently too — if only to fit your face better.
after a while, your eyes previously flashing with surprise with his choice, had gleamed in approval.
he sighs through his nose, arms uncrossing when he props his chin over your head smugly. you grunt, attempting to look at him once he slings an arm over your shoulders.
to no avail, his chin stays propped on you.
"you're free to express yourself however you like, sweetie. if i'm able to correct how i'm perceived by others, including you, then you have no excuse." he murmurs into your ear, tightening his hold around you.
he had done this before; he would do it again. and again. and again. as long as it takes.
The world had three unspoken rules you had to abide to:
1.) Always assume all dragons are hostile
2.) If you see treasures hidden in a cave and dragon's scales are present, run
3.) Never approach a dragon without a sword and the intent to kill
Unfortunately for you, you were never one to abide by the rules.
See, Sylus, a dragon you've miraculously bonded with, is being hunted for his scales. You, a young dragon rider, must protect your dragon friend from those who seek to harm him.
A problem with that: Sylus is adamant on surviving by himself.
(oh. and did you mention that you two were married two weeks ago? yeah. well. you accidentally kept one of his scales. you're oblivious. but he sure isn't.)
---
a/n: hahahHEY so i promise im not dead ive just been extraordinarily busy but i am back so here i amm! BUT YEAH. so. no beta we die like men LOL
let me know if you'd like to be tagged for this series!!! haha!!! ENJOY
You never liked being around crowds. Crowds always held multiple components:
1.) An overwhelming crowd of dull colors — beige, white, grey, and blues.
2.) Scents of all kinds mingling together to create a cacophony of noise.
3.) Lights from all different sources blurring together.
What's worse is the sun beating down at you. You could never tell if the sun was trying to provide light, or if it was trying to burn you alive.
You scarcely weave around an old couple when you enter into a craftsman shop, ducking your head below the rim of the entrance.
A dull headache forms on the left side of their head. You rub your temples, furrowing your brows as you try to focus on where you were supposedly assigned to.
On both sides of the room they inhabited, two 16" wide-displays play in synchronized chaos. One their left, a dark woman with wavy hair absentmindedly rocks a baby in their stroller. Another large woman wearing a black shirt had their eyes locked on a display.
The entrance to the building keeps opening and closing — a constant influx of people steaming through the building.
As much as you were a so-called 'charmer', you weren't immune to hating what socializing also brought you. You had half the mind to kill yourself over the overstimulation alone.
"Careful, sweetie. There'll be wrinkles on your face if you keep this up."
You look up from your case filings, meeting Sylus' faintly amused expression. His scaled tail sways side to side languidly, his clawed feet crossed ever so elegantly when he props his chin on top of his palm.
"Your sweetie wants to kill herself," You deadpan, setting the files down the table with a wrinkled brow.
Crimson irises gleam. "Oh? Should I help you?"
You whip around, raise your hand to smack Sylus, and watch him swerve away. As he should. But to your dismay, it earns a wide grin and a raise of both hands in leisure surrender.
"Now, now. I'm only pulling your leg, kitten."
"Shut up."
You lean back on your chair, rubbing your face. "Why are your enemies such pain in the asses? Why couldn't you have pissed off a bunch of dumbasses instead of an actual organization?"
Sylus offers no comfort nor consolation. He just shrugs carelessly. "That's for you to figure out."
"Do you want your hunters to skin you alive?" You grit out through your teeth.
He only smiles slyly. "As if they could touch me."
Your brows twitch.
Sylus' arrogance always rubbed you the wrong way. Though debatably a fact for a dragon who's constantly on the run, he acts like he has all the time in the world right now. You never liked how he was so nonchalant about his own life. So recklessly willing. to risk it all on the line in favor of the thrill it brought to him.
How on the gods green realms were you meant to keep him alive like this?
tags: neurodivergent!reader x zayne, barista!reader x zayne, comfort, self-indulgent, post-burnout recovery, biblically accurate pre-relationship zayne, pre-relationship dynamics, can be interpreted as platonic, zayne is also neurodivergent fight me
you were never really the type of person who thought that you were anyone particularly extraordinary. but you weren’t exactly normal either.
you nearly laughed at the concept, because you wished you could.
you wished, desperately so, that you could be described as normal. but that wasn’t exactly the case for you—couldn’t be the case for you—because it was as if everyone around you followed a script, and you weren’t up to date with the words, roles, or expressions. you could only mimic the best you could through trial and error; some that ended with scorned looks and whispers, and others that ended with others describing you as ‘charming’, ‘cheerful’, and ‘magnetic’.
it took years, but you got there. you learned somewhere along the way, that others either outright hated you or loved you.
whatever. you stopped caring a long time ago. you just wished that it could be easier to survive like this.
you had reasoned, between learning your ‘script’ and getting scorned, that to assume a standard of normal was bullshit. within 1.8 billion people in the world, normal was just a standard that only existed within a cultural context of a society.
what exactly is normal anyway?
so then, maybe throw that term out the window. perhaps the right term for you would be.. odd.
you were a bit odd. with you being medicated for one of the handful of mental illnesses you had. but that wasn’t really out of the ordinary for you. maybe the symptoms that aligned a lot with each other. but you are well-adjusted, you swear.
asides from feeling uncomfortable with.. everybody that existed, you knew to get over it quickly. you had even written encouraging notes towards your customers to help you get over that discomfort in social interaction.
( he came as a doctor with a cold pair of hazel eyes, wearing a grey waxed cotton jacket over his light blue scrubs. he always had scarred hands that were freezing to the touch when he handed you over both his card, and a little coupon to afford the sweetest pastries you had. he was quiet, but he’d never treat you any differently in the times you interacted in your early morning shift. )
there was only one man that you felt comfortable with.
there was only one interaction, among the many circles you were in, that made you feel comfortable without having to learn that script others came across.
( 'zayne li' hung from his badge as the doorbell chimed. there was a strange gut feeling that struck you. that somehow, with that blank expression on his face — you weren't the only one who was a bit odd. )
you wondered to yourself if he’d arrive again today at this hour.
in your little cafe, you didn’t have to mask as much. for now. there were barely any people in here at this hour, at.. five o’clock in the morning.
not that you were complaining. it’s been a long, long week.
you wiped down previous stickiness of the tables, scrubbing away the last traces of a coffee stain on a counter. as you threw away your latex gloves into the bin, a cold gust of wind overtook you once the entrance opened.
“hello sir, may i take your order?” you asked, forcing your voice to be as light and pleasant as possible. as you lifted your eyes, the tension wound up around your shoulders relaxed.
a pair of hazel eyes behind spectacles stared back at you.
they were neutral, but the fleeting glint of recognition glinted behind his lens. his dark hair remained immaculate since the first day you met him, his scarred fingers adjusting the scarf around his neck. he raised his brows.
you pursed your lips in an awkward smile.
zayne tilts his head agreeably. “yes. one matcha latte please.”
you nodded, letting the smile slip from your face. you exhaled deeply when you started narrowing in on the register, focusing on tapping the right order. “right. anything else?”
those eyes, green and gold speckled in his irises, peered at your soul for a moment longer. “and one banana nut loaf. warmed up.”
“of course.” you nod, discreetly glancing at his badge.
the name tag clipped on his breast pocket: zayne li, shone underneath the bright headlights. it swung around when he leaned over to hand his loyalty card. you took it, eyes flickering down to the tag for a bit.
he’s right on time. you didn’t know why you were getting so antsy.
“by the way,” you cleared your throat, stamping it. “it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“it has,” confirms zayne, then he tilts his head as he studies you.
“..what?”
“you haven’t resting properly, have you?”
“oh! i-” you fumbled over your words, your voice a little bit hoarse from underuse from the past few days. the words stretched in your mouth like chewing hard taffy, hands hovering over the register. “i didn’t—well, no. no, not—” you laughed helplessly. “not really.”
zayne only hums, then turns around to sit at a table to pull out his phone. he falls into the background after — nonchalant and quiet. per usual.
as you turned your back to get to work on his order. it took you a good fifteen minutes to get the milk and water ready, and five seconds to whisk the matcha.
before that, you couldn’t forget your favorite part: writing on the cup.
‘always so sharp with your deductions. spare some braincells for the rest of us, and don’t be like me. rest properly, don’t be too dependent on caffeine. not that im complaining about your visits.
sincerely, your on-call barista. <3’
zayne came again at a random tuesday.
you don’t know how it led up to it — there wasn’t any particular trigger that made it feel as if everything felt so.. numb. as far as you knew, it was always onto the next thing. onto the next project, next event, next customer. one thing after another.
life never waited for you. it would never stop to let you breathe, and why should it?
maybe it was inevitable then, that your body broke down that day.
your head frantically span as you sat yourself down in the break room, bringing your knees up to your chest. you tried desperately to keep yourself awake, but darkness spotted your vision every time you tried standing up.
“no.” a familiar tenor met your ears, cold and firm. “sit back down.”
several coworkers spared concerned glances your way as you stumbled onto your feet from the register. your dress swayed across your knees as you wobbled across the ground, feet nearly hitting the counter. you felt so disoriented, that you didn’t even notice the door chiming open when it opened.
ah.. this wasn’t good. you still needed to get your regular’s favorite pastries out the oven..
you instinctually waved it off. “no, i’m fi—”
“no if’s, and’s, or but’s. sit. your boss sent you on break.” the voice was clearer by the day, slow and clear in its enunciation.
….zayne?
your eyes landed on his familiar form hovering above you. he stands near the guest chair you were situated on, about ready to sit down right next to you. there’s a plastic bag in one hand holding all the pastries he accumulated, and an espresso cup on the other.
you furrow your brows in confusion before you looked at the clock above you.
twelve o’clock at midnight. you blinked twice in disbelief. “you— huh? i thought you normally have operations at this hour?”
“i was let off early. seems like that was a good thing as you seemed like you were running on fumes.” zayne observes, settling next to you. “role models should exemplify good behavior, not enable bad ones.”
you let out an amused exhale through your nose. “well… it’s on the others to learn from their predecessors.”
“…since when has that worked?”
“since now. aren’t you a full-grown adult?”
zayne rolls his eyes, setting down his drink in front of you before pushing it to your direction. “hm. well, it seems clear that i don't need these anymore. but i think you do."
taken aback, you look at him. “wait. that’s your drink. is that really okay?”
“i bought it for you. i told you, it’s fine.”
your fingers delicately traced the rim of the cup for a bit. your eyes linger on zayne’s form hesitantly, before you turned the cup to see what kind of order it was. and there, inscribed on its white cardboard:
‘you underestimate yourself too much. however, i will say the warning came in late as much as i do try to emphasize the balance between work and personal lives.
i appreciate your concern. you might need this hazelnut latte more than i do. 𖹭
☃️→ ragebaiting zayne by pretending it's his birthday every time you both go to a niche restaurant so he can get desserts for free. you bet his autistic ass was NOT catching on until you heavily implied it.
If Zayne knew that you would attempt at grabbing him a dessert like this, he wouldn't be so bothered.
The issue is that you were grinning like a cheshire cat. And that is an expression that harkens to some shenanigan you'd be pulling off.
Additionally, a waiter was right in between you two, notepad ready, about to take orders.
You, with that crafty little brain of yours, just had to take advantage of the new 'BIRTHDAY DISCOUNT' you had found on the website before coming to the restaurant on both of your date nights.
Now the issue? One, you hadn't told him about it. Two, you were.. loud. You made sure of it.
As you two sat across each other underneath dim, warm lighting, Zayne watched the widest grin growing from those glossy lips. He could have sworn your eyes sparkled as you lifted your hands to a heart-shaped gesture, tilting your head slyly.
Flattening his menu, Zayne stares at you with his glasses lowered. "Whatever is on your mind right now, do not—"
"Happy Birthday!!!"
"No. It's not my birthday."
"Oh there's no need to be so humble. I can't believe you haven't told me your birthday is today??"
"I need you to stop."
"Oh, sir! You're a regular so many times here and we didn't know? How rude of us. Happy Birthday!" The waiter chirps.
Zayne pinches the bridge of his nose. "...You're mistaken. Please, it's not—"
You clear your throat loudly. The smile never leaves your face, but the intonation behind your words does. "You're so humble, Zaynie. If you hadn't wanted the macarons because of your dentist, you could just say so!"
"..."
A heavy sigh leaves Zayne. "...I rescind my statement."
alt title: zayne's pov in which he first met you and caleb before being akso's surgeon. featuring his childhood, banter, and unsaid words.
"What is awareness? It's like an illusion that appears only when you think of it."
"Mine has been a life such of shame."
_____
what MC's anecdotes would look like in love and deepspace, except things are horribly wrong and this is not her body. this is not her voice. and this is not her world. there was a life before this—before everything went downhill.
whatever it was: the universe, fate, destiny, god, satan, the greek deities, roman entities, astra himself, found it oh-so-amusing to use a lab rat in for reincarnation. both in the literal and figurative sense.
what a funny way of saying, 'be careful of what you wish for.'
tags: isekai!MC, gender neutral/nonbinary!MC, mentions of human experimentation, mentions of dysmorphia, strangely caleb-centered, first person pov (im sorry), angst, mentions of zayne, caleb and josephine
word count: 4.1k
song now playing . . . drowning love by chasing kou (cover by 백온 Paikon)
Zayne noticed your eyes when he first met you.
Dark oak rings and bark before specks of golden marked your irises. It glimmered for a tiny bit when you both met, before you averted your gaze. You had shifted behind Caleb, hands holding a tiny wooden puzzle as he introduced you to Zayne.
His first impression of you was quiet, at first. It was the type of quiet that would come with a comfortable silence. You weren’t really restrained nor shy, as you always spent your time with however or whomever you pleased in school. Whether it was with him and Zayne or other matters, you’d always be there in the background quietly running your wheels.
But Zayne saw you. He had always saw you.
You were so small back then.
Back in the days where you followed Caleb closely at the time, your eyes were stuck on a water-based toy where you had to shoot hoops to the plastic pegs.
Caleb initially introduced you to him first after the Chronorift Catrastrophe. You were more extroverted than he had expected for someone who initially looked so aloof. He had half the mind to expect you to start interrogating him after you stared at him after a minute.
Instead, all you did is tilt your head in curiosity. “Can you freeze the water inside my toy?”
Zayne felt.. pleasantly surprised. His eyes flickered from Caleb to you, then nodded mutely.
Whether it was through a whim or some need to perform some kind of nicities due to you being Caleb’s sibling, he couldn’t tell. All Zayne knew was that he touched the toy, and let go if only for a little bit.
His evol felt somewhat like using an overactive muscle. Frost came naturally for him. But it was easy — a little bit too easy. The world would always be a bit too fast to keep up — but in his control, it slowed down. He knew the order of atoms down, the structure of it. Although he did not will it to rearrange completely to his desires, his desire to preserve, to last could enable him to fall back. It eased up.
Atoms stilled.
Your eyes had widened that day, fixated on his grasp. Frost and ice spread throughout the toy, fully frozen. Ice crystal marbled the water as you stared in fresh awe and wonder.
For a moment, he thought he saw jealousy flash behind Caleb’s eyes.
____
"I don't know why you bother with these people. You could literally blow up the sun."
“Why would I blow up the sun?"
"You don't have to, but you could. That's the point. Everyone should do what you say because if they don't, you could, you know, blow up the sun or something."
Zayne sighs, peering above his glasses to look at you sitting on his desk. "Blowing up the sun seems like an overreaction."
The school bell has yet to ring while Zayne, Caleb, and you hung around inside the classroom waiting for the teacher to get in. Golden rays peek from glass windows on the left side, dust particles floating around lazily without deadline. Some students still hung around inside, but Zayne arrived.. an hour early.
Courtesy of Caleb, of course. Waking up at 5am to jog in the morning was not for the weak. Neither was listening to you curse him out for dragging you with him.
A group formed between him, Caleb, and you naturally. Initially, it was due to Caleb being in the same class as him. Arranging hangouts, doing homework, and co-working wasn’t out of the ordinary. When you skipped a grade, it was all the more clearer that you three would be spending a lot of time with each other.
Surprisingly.
“That is… not possible to do with my abilities,” Caleb points out, lips twitching. “Were you listening at any point at all when I went off a whole tangent yesterday??”
“Erm…”
Zayne calmly slips out his folder for school to slip out his assignment. “Seems like they didn’t.”
Caleb exchanges a look with Zayne in exasperation, then stands up to puts both hands on your shoulders. He sighs. “Look at me. I’m going to hold your hands when I say this, okay?”
You stared at him.
“It is physically impossible for me to blow up the the sun.” He said slowly, like he’s been saying it repeatedly. “Repeat after me. The sun. Will not explode. Because of gravity.”
“The sun… will not explode—okay, but why?”
“Pips, do you know how physics work?? I literally had this talk with you for hours.” Caleb lightly chops your forehead, making you grunt. “Listen, the sun is only here because of gravity. The reason the sun doesn't just explode like every other nuclear explosion is because gravity is pressing back against the sun. It stops it.”
“I’m.. I’m thirteen. I’m not old like you.”
“Huh. Well pips,” Caleb muses, sounding a little too cheerful. “Since I’m too old for you, should I go hang out with my other friends—”
“Friends? You have other friends???”
Zayne adjusts his glasses, setting his homework assignment down with a sigh. He rubs his temples. “You lot are so noisy. Settle down. Caleb’s three years older than you, and I’m five years older. Before you all conveniently forget, my family is friends with yours. We’re friends by circumstance and convenience.”
“And Caleb doesn’t live with me, and grandma is dead,” You muttered under your breath.
Caleb blinks deliberately. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” You answered quickly. “Anyway, if it's that powerful and can compress something that is much larger than us into a ball, why is it not just crushing earth and every other planet?”
Caleb cocks his head. Most of the class looked up to Caleb, idolized him, and viewed him in an overwhelmingly good light because of how utterly magnetic he had seemed to be.
But in this moment, all Zayne could see was an annoyed brother dealing with his sibling’s antics.
On that note, you, on the other hand, were a menace. You found it easier to stay in the back and keep yourself low-profile. Half the class didn’t even know you existed, and it took time to figure out that it was deliberate.
Socially, you two couldn’t be any more different.
If only they knew.
“It is.” Caleb gives you a look. “The reason the planets are all spheres is because of gravity is pulling them together. You would’ve known about the extra information, buut you didn’t listen to me before.”
You just grinned, all toothy and mischeivous.
Zayne swept up eraser dust into his palm singlehandedly, stood up, and pushed his chair back to throw it away.
He was going to miss this after he graduates.
-----
Outside, the rain poured relentlessly. It barely gave way to light. Any signs of reprieve seemed long gone throughout this week, and it did wonders to his energy-levels. He resisted the urge to take off his glasses and rub his eyes. There were still assignments he needed to return, and programs he had to apply to.
He already was in the process of applying to two programs mid-way until he heard a loud smack into his classroom. And then two, very rapt knocks.
Zayne looked up. A familar silhouette awaited at the entrance.
He sighed, then announced, “Door’s not unlocked.”
On cue, the door slid open to reveal you balancing your tray of food, and narrowly fitting your backpack inside the entrance. When your eyes made eye-contact with his, a short silence falls between you two.
“…That’s different. Caleb isn’t with you right now.”
“He’s running errands right now. Something about double-booking his schedule.” You shrug, putting your tray down across his seat.
Zayne clicks his tongue. “Sounds like him.”
“Yeah,” You sigh, glancing out the window. “I think he’s getting a part-time job.”
His eyes don’t part from his screen. “Saw his applications for it. What’s he getting?”
“Cashier for a local mom and pop store. Kind of surprised to be honest.” You open your lunch box, poking your food with your chopsticks.
Zayne types away at his application. “Why is that the case?”
“Uh. Mostly because he was trying to aim for internships in highschool. Guess he started early.” You shrug.
Zayne knew Caleb better than that. He’d seen the worry and distress between his brow in the times he spent typing up both his priority-lists and to-do lists. He had spent enough time figuring out how simultaneously eager he was to get ahead, yet neurotic if he wasn’t in the perfect circumstances to apply right away.
In front of you, however, he smoothed his expression. He wore a second skin. He reverted to somewhat of an ‘annoying elder brother’ in front of you, acting moreso like the ‘golden Caleb’ everyone in class knew about.
It was why Caleb could be found present with every sport alive out there. If he hadn’t used that as a crutch… Zayne couldn’t imagine it.
But he himself could relate. It was a topic they often discussed between them when you were away. To juggle a lot of plates on their hands wasn’t uncharacteristic.
You weren’t any different.
“I always thought he would spite grandma sometimes,” You casually admitted, taking a mouthful of egg and rice. “With her talking about jobs and careers, the look he’d give her kind of made my skin crawl.”
A quiet befalls them. It wasn’t a topic they often discussed about. But for you, out of all people, to comment this, meant something.
Zayne carefully adjusts his glasses, glancing to the side. He couldn’t help but be somewhat astonished that you were walking into a sensitive topic like it was the weather. “What made this time any different?”
Your breathing stops for a hitch. You purse your lips when you recall the memory. “…I don’t know. It was just.. something about the air, I guess.”
Not really believable, Zayne thinks to himself. But if you didn’t want to reveal any details, then it wasn’t his place to pry.
“Wow, that’s so detailed,” He remarked dryly, earning a half-hearted shove from you.
“I’m sorry I’m not using my extensive vocabulary, Mr. Straight-A’s,” You retort, sitting back down after reaching over the table.
Finally looking up at you over his glasses, the corner of Zayne’s lips twitches. That’s all he would give to you before switching over to his assignments. He leaned his chin on top of his knuckles, playing with his stylus absent-mindedly.
“…Are you working on applications or assignments right now?”
“Assignments. Finished most of my applications. I’m going to have to email my parents to have them look over it.”
“…Must be nice having parents. How’s it feel?”
Zayne wasn’t sure to give you a look or sigh. “…Really?”
He deliberately ignores the way his eyes naturally gravitates to you, how he softened.
Hours passed, the day ran its course, and Caleb was still nowhere to be found. It seemed to be one of those rare times where Caleb wasn’t able to be back home in time due to his part-time job. Josephine couldn’t walk with you, hence Zayne took it upon himself to walk you home.
It was the first time Caleb wasn’t there.
The walk home was.. comfortably quiet. Maybe even bland.
The metro that awaited the both of you was pretty packed. Sounds of all kinds could be heard across the station. Whether it was walking, the crying from toddlers, hushes from concerned parents, or the monotonous voices of office workers, it was a cacophany.
It was instinct for Zayne to guide you with his presence. Rather than touch you right away since that was Caleb’s thing, he just.. hovered. He orbited around you, blocking you from others with his height, letting you use his arm as a handle-bar since you couldn’t quite reach above him.
Without asking, you had slowly accepted, grimacing from the amount of people packed in like a bunch of sardines. You then spared a curious glance at him.
Zayne’s ears burned red, but he kept his tone flat. “You didn’t have a handle bar. Safety precaution.”
Your lips twitched. He knew that look, so he shot you down immediately. “No. Whatever it is you’re about to say, I don’t need to hear it.”
“…I was about to say that it’d be arguably funnier if the force of the train smacked me into the back. But you’re so cold,” You complained, lips twisting to a pout.
“Oh, I know. I’m the worst,” says Zayne dryly, shaking his head. “I seriously question your sense of humor.”
You smiled slyly. “It’s slapstick humor.”
He could only roll his eyes. “You ever considered changing it?”
A lighthearted shrug. “No.”
Zayne sighs.
“Besides,” You continued, drumming on his arm with your fingers. He pretended not to notice it too much. “You can’t say much about my sense of humor. Yours is arguably worse.”
Scoffing, Zayne tilts his head away from you. You were so close to him, smelling of citrus and grass from being outdoors most of the time. So unlike him, who prefered to stay inside. He tries to ignore the sudden lurch in his gut, keeping his eyes setlled on anywhere that isn’t you.
“What a wild conclusion.” He settles on mildly.
“What can I say? I’m a wild person.”
Truly, Zayne thinks dryly.
The bus ended up dropping the both of you to your final stop. It was very clear now that the ride to the bus ended up recharging you from the “shackles of school,” as you’d like to call it.
Both of you walk in sync, footsteps soft on the hard pavement. Dark grey marks the entire skies for evening, the sun long since setting over the horizon. Shrubs cover the high walls of neighboring apartment complexes, the faint scent of jasmine faintly wafting through the midwinter air.
When the bus stopped to settle the both of you down near the station, you froze at the very last second.
Zayne spares you a curious look.
“My umbrella,” You said, mortified. “I forgot it. Inside the bus.”
Exasperated, Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have a spare inside your bag?”
You rummaged through your things, then shake your head. “…No.”
Wordlessly, Zayne retrieves his own umbrella from his bag. A single push of a button, and an umbrella hovers over both of your heads to protect you both from rainfall.
You had the sense to look slightly embarassed, red twinging your ears. You shuffle your feet, muttering your thanks as you scoot closer to Zayne.
He had to admit, it was a little endearing watching you cast your gaze down without a word. You always did have a tendency to be caught off-guard by the smallest things. It was so easy to make you happy, to make your lips curl into a little smile.
These actions were so simple. There really was no reason to be so shy unless…
Zayne cleared his throat before his thoughts caught up to him. “Walk. The bus won’t stop here forever.”
You rolled your eyes, smacking his side before taking to his pace.
And so, that was how it goes. You two walking side-by-side, footsteps in sync with the others in a quiet closeness.
Both of your hands graze against each other, but neither of you say anything.
________
He was eighteen when sharp beeping from the heart monitor pierced the air.
Zayne stared at your unconscious body.
Something, somewhere, had gone horrifically wrong. For a long time, he found himself at a loss of what to do while your body laid there. His hands still felt frozen, like it was covered in frost and ice. He had to clench his fist, remind himself to just stay still.
But it was hard to do that, when freezing came naturally for him, didn’t it? If all he was used to was stasis. And it didn’t helphis case then, that frost was still crawling through his wrists.
In the corner, Caleb had stared him down. He’s not unused to the staring but this one was different. All the refined ‘charming’ and ‘easygoing’ buffed away to the bare minimum — the very one that he was met with after the Chronorift Catastrophe.
Zayne had felt, in that moment, that he was being surveiled. But ignorance was bliss if he wanted to get bitten, so he levelled his gaze with an impassive one.
As if his own hands weren’t shaking over what just happened.
“..It’s not your fault.”
“She’s fine, don’t worry.”
“If you insist on doing this, you will never…”
In the room, conundrum rattled the room. Adults were talking. But he couldn’t manage to hear what they were saying when purple irises as calmly assessed him like he was something to be picked apart.
And then there was you, laying there unconscious with frostbite spreading across your chest. IV drips hung over your unconscious body, strands of hair stick to your face, your chest rising and falling.
These white walls never felt so claustrophobic.
He barely even registered Caleb moving behind him until he felt a squeeze on his shoulder. He nearly flinched, whipping around to register that mechanic gaze. Grandma Josephine and his parents seemed to have moved away to crowd around the entrance to listen to upcoming news.
“…”
On the meanwhile, Caleb moves away, hands in his pockets when he stares at the body in front of him. He appears, for the first time in his life, inscrutable. “…What happened?”
The words spilled out from Zayne. For some reason, even though guilt eats him up from the inside, he can’t stop explaining it. But the words.. weren’t what he’d like to say. Regardless, something in him just masks it, makes his voice flat. “Your sister was reckless. Her chest was lit up from the inside. She looked like she was in pain. I thought it’d.. help.”
Lots of good that did, he added mentally.
A small silence.
Caleb smiles, but it’s forced. It’s a vast contrast to his eyes, ignited, calculated, and maybe even frustrated about what was happening. “I know you’re the oldest out of all of us, but I told you to come to me when she’s hurting like that. I’m not useless, you know.”
Caleb’s jab made Zayne study the younger for a long time, attempting to comprehend the logic behind it.
“…I never said you’re useless. But we should be trusting the professionals in this situation,” countered Zayne, neutral. “All of it could wait. I had to call them first before coming to you.”
“Yeah, but—” Caleb bites his tongue. Zayne had never saw a more conflicting look flashing across the golden boy’s face.
Zayne studies Caleb’s expression for a long time, allowing silence to fall on them as he waits.
Caleb furrows his brows. He hesitates for a second, before his eyes flicker towards the entrance where the doctor is. He quietly utters, “Not every ‘professional’ is good.”
Zayne’s gaze follows his own, until he realizes that Caleb was directly staring at Grandma Josephine.
Something clicks. So this is why Caleb is so good at playing pretend. At playing dumb. At keeping secrets.
He was no different. He just might not be the reliable figure everyone thought he was after all.
Something cold and heavy weighs down on his stomach, not a single muscle on his face giving way to the corrosive numbness eating him alive. It wasn’t anymore of a dramatic, explosive realization than an oh.
He couldn’t find it in himself to do anything otherwise.
“Can you do me a favor?” Zayne finally utters, quiet.
Caleb exhales, peering at him. “What’s the favor?”
Zayne’s gaze remains unmoving from the bed. “Tell her that I’m sorry. Keep an eye on her.”
“Zayne, what…?”
“I know.. that things didn’t go as planned.” He stretches his hands, ice crawling through every single ounce of his being. “I need to learn to control this. So I’ll be taking residence at Akso.”
He should’ve never touched you. He should’ve never allowed this to happen.
“Until then, I’m going on residence. You’re going to have to truly take on the role of elder brother.”
It doesn’t take long for Caleb to know exactly what Zayne is doing.
Of course he would.
Caleb returns to look at your unconscious body for a long time. “…Well, what else have I been doing?” He snorted humorlessly. “I’ll do that. You know I always will.”
He knows by now—
This was goodbye.
_____
It’s been years since he last saw you.
The cold nips at Zayne’s nose as he trudges through the snow in his thick winter gear, the stiff heaviness of it all weighing down on him. He scarcely makes it pass his assigned base, shaking off the snow from his head and lashes. His nose runs a little due to the harsh winter snow, but it’s nothing he’s not used to in the Arctic.
Zayne lightly blows his nose through a tissue, wiping away the buildup with it. The other closely adjusts his locker, inserting the code before opening it. He takes his phone, greeted with a bright red iconography and the blaring numbers: 10+ Notifications.
He sighs. The group texts an awful lot…
A twinge pangs in his chest at the thought of time flying by so fast.
Seven years has passed since he graduated from Linkon and transitioning into the field of medicine. Although you three had promised to make up for lost time by using a group chat, it’s been used.. more like an update log rather than an actual live chat.
Caleb is taking to the DAA Academy while you took to take the Hunter’s Association Deeptrials. All of your schedules couldn’t be any more apart from each other despite it all.
It’s funny. He’s twenty-five, and he still feels as if he’s trying to find a solid foothold to ground himself on.
Although he’s still in residency, there was still so much to be done. William, an intern who took him under his wing, already had him operating labs to the Arctic to continue on his scientific research. There was a current research engulfing much of his time, so his time on media was very.. slim, to put it lightly.
But today, he might have more time than he thought.
Zayne taps on the notifications, skimming the messages all the way scroll down.
kronosh1ft: zayne?
kronosh1ft: are you busy?
Surprise overtakes him first, then concern. You usually don’t text him like this.
Ice Spice is texting…
Ice Spice: I just came back from an expidition. What’s going on?
A text bubble hovered over the air for a little bit. It disappears. Then it appears again.
kronosh1ft: results of my hunters examskronosh1ft: i just remembered that i have things i need to send through email bc the staff are…. 💀
kronosh1ft: do you somehow.. have templates to help me out?
Ice Spice: Ah. Depends on the email. I have some templates you could use. As for documents, you’re using the same software the Deepspace Association requires, right?
kronosh1ft: yeah, still can’t figure out if they’re delaying my process or etc.
kronosh1ft: i already asked for its status and they’re not giving me a straightforward answer.
Ice Spice: Ah. When someone does this, it means that there’s something complicated happening. Usually it’s a long process on their end.
Ice Spice: I’ll still send it over in thirty minutes. Don’t be brash.
Somehow, he can’t find it within himself to be surprised about how the first thing he heard about from you was you getting ‘boo’d’ at the hunter’s exams for.. essentially pulling the tricks that you did.
Zayne heard about it about what had happened at the Hunters exams. He knew of the outrage, of the bad decisions. How brutal it was to pit candidates against the others. It was meant to be a light spar, but with you…
You acted like your life was on the line. Like there was some inevitable point you needed to get across for some reason.
Something felt off. It was all so unnecessary. You could’ve avoided it and applied through modern exams, but you chose to go traditionally. And for what?
It’s reckless and maybe even stupid to go contrary beyond expectations.
But then again, he already felt the subconscious urge to retreat back into his shell and throw himself into work.
He wants to see you again.
Zayne all too quickly swipes away from the group chat to switch onto the calendar on his phone.
melon - my first impression of you peach - what i like most about your blog vanilla - what i like most about you lilac - why / how i started following you orange - my opinion of you now and our status <--Just because I'm a curious fucker.
My first impression of you was that you were probably a bit of a Princess. I think it was your theme that gave me that idea.
What I like most about your blog is the awesome content.
I like your sincerity and approachability most about you.
I think I first started following you off the back of somebody's follow forever, but I'm not entirely sure.
I think you're wonderful and adorable, but we don't talk as often as we could, which makes me sad.
What I think about their blog YOUR THEME IS RAD *cough cough cough hack lung* Hehe. I miss you posting tumblr crushes or if you have I am not on it and mad. You've been on mine but I didn't tell u whoops.
