Here is finally the next chapter and now I’m caught up! Here’s the next chapter with Larissa 🩵
On ao3⬇️
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Or if you’d rather read it here ⬇️
Summary: A funeral, the board and poison, oh my!
Finding Your Heart
Chapter 13: Set The Bar
———
Finding Your Heart
Chapter 13: Set The Bar
Journal Entry: November 5th
It’s been 2 days since the disaster date and Larissa picking me up. I haven’t heard from Harper since but I guess that’s a good thing. That date made me feel like shit, why did I ever agree to that? Larissa swooping in really made me happy.
My mom’s funeral is tomorrow, my brother keeps trying to get me to go but I don’t want to, he doesn’t understand that I do not care. She made her choices and I made mine. I’m not carrying around the dead weight of missing someone who hated me my whole life. It’s just not worth my time.
Scott is still stable but not awake, Robby has not left his side since the accident. I get hourly updates which I appreciate, Morticia had flowers delivered on behalf of us teachers yesterday. I’m worried about Robbie’s mental state honestly.
Signing off, TRH
You closed your journal and went to check your muffins, you got up extra early this morning to make breakfast for everyone to place in the teachers’ lounge.
Scared by the ringing of your phone you quickly tossed down the pot holders to run and answer it.
You did it without looking.
“Hello?”
“Tristen” a males voice said
“Yes?”
“It’s Mark, you won’t return our texts.”
“Jesus Mark, there’s a reason for that.”
“You can’t run from your family forever.”
“I am not running, you all made a choice and so did I.”
“You owe us loyalty.”
“I don’t owe you shit”
You hung up the phone and tossed it down. You picked it back up and sighed, you sent off one single text to everyone.
Tristen Heart: I’m only going to say this once, I am not coming to the funeral. I do not care that she died and I don’t care how that makes any of you feel. You all made a choice to cut me out when I stood with my school so hold to that and don’t speak to me again. I am happy where I am and nothing you say will change that or how I feel about any of you. As far as I am concerned we are not family, so get it through your thick skulls. I am done now and blocking all of you.
You spent the next 20 minutes going through and blocking every family member you had in your contacts, except 1- your dad. Once that was done you went to plate the muffins and head out the door.
Checking the time it was 7:30, which was perfect. Platting them didn’t take too long, you grabbed your bag and headed out the door, hopefully everyone enjoyed them.
Selene saw you walking down the hall and waved,
“Good morning!” She said brightly
“Morning, Selene” you smiled
She held the door open for you, walking in you walked to the coffee counter and sat the muffins down and arranged them. Satisfied with it you went to make some coffee, Selene came up to you,
“Have you heard any more about Scott?” She asked
“He’s stable but not awake, they said it could take a week for him to wake up.” You said
“Poor Robby, I can’t imagine the pain he’s in.” She sighed
Just then the door opened and Margery came in followed by Larissa.
“Good morning, lovelies” Margery said
“Good morning, Margery” you smiled and handed her a muffin
“Where did these come from?” Larissa asked
“Tristen made them, she’s a wonderful baker” Selene smiled at you
“Are you?” Larissa asked
You handed her a muffin and motioned for her to try it, she did
“Oh my gods these are wonderful” she groaned
“Thank you, they’re my dads recipe” you beamed at the mention of your father
You didn’t speak about him much but you adored him. He divorced your mom when you were 16 and moved away shortly after. He never did approve of your moms next relationship but there wasn’t anything he could do from so far away. She married a Normie like herself and your dad wanted you to grow up with a strong outcast role model.
“Your dad really must know what he’s doing” Selene said taking a muffin
“He does, he’s the best baker I know” you said
“I’ve never heard you talk about your dad” a voice came from the door
You looked up to see who it was, it was Collin, another art teacher.
“Oh, yeah I don’t talk about him much” you gave a short laugh
“How come?” He asked
“He left when I was a teenager, we don’t see each other often but I adore him.” You said
“I’m sorry if that’s a touchy subject..” he said
“It’s alright, everyone knows about my crazy mom but not my dad.” You said
“Isn’t your mom a Normie?” He asked
“She was, yeah. My ability comes from my dads side” you said
“Was?”
“She died last week” you blurted out
A silence fell over the room, Larissa’s eyes went wide in horror,
“Tristen..why didn’t you say something?” She asked
“Because I don’t care” you said bluntly
Selene let out a small gasp,
“Why don’t you come to my office?” Larissa suggested
“Alright.” You said softly
You followed her out into the hallway and walked faster to keep pace with her strides. You made it to the office, she held the door for you to go in first. You took a seat across from her desk and put your hands in your lap, waiting in silence.
“Tristen.” She said
“Larissa.” You answered
“Are you alright?” She asked sitting on the edge of her desk
You looked down, fidgeting with the ring on your index finger you stayed quiet. Larissa lifted your chin with her finger,
“Tristen” she said softly
“Yeah” you nodded, “I’m fine. I told my brother this morning that I wasn’t going to carry the burden of missing someone who hates me.”
“Darling, it’s alright to have feelings about this.” She said
“I know, I just don’t know how to process them yet.” You said
She nodded and went to sit in her chair,
“Are you able to teach today?” She asked
“Of course” you answered
“I want us to get together tonight and talk, be here around 6” Larissa said
You nodded slowly,
“Alright, I’ll see you then” you stood up and turned to walk out.
You checked your phone once you got into the hallway as the bell rang,
ROBSTER: Hey, I have an update
TRISTEN: I’m ready
ROBSTER: He squeezed my hand earlier
TRISTEN: That’s amazing!
You pocketed your phone and made your way through the kids and to your classroom. You had a line formed, they were eager to get in and to their projects.
“Good morning everyone!” You said loudly as you opened the door and they rushed past you.
They all found their seats and waited with eager eyes for you to close the door.
“Happy Friday everyone! I see we are excited to get started today”
Everyone nodded quickly and Rhys put his hand up in the back,
“Yes, Rhys?” You said
“Miss can we go get our pictures?” He asked
“Yes, you may. Form a line and I’ll hand them out, chalks are by the projector” you smiled
A line quickly formed as you walked to the back of the room and opened the closet door, you handed them out one by one to each student who bounced back to their seats.
You took a seat at your desk and opened your laptop, you saw a list of emails and opened one from Mrs. Corsen, one of the board heads
To: Tristen Heart
From: Shyla Corsen
Miss. Heart, we have interest in moving you up to a higher year next school term. Would you be interested?
You took a second to look around the room at the kids, quiet, happy, safe. All in your classroom, did you want to teach older kids?
To: Shyla Corsen
From: Tristen Heart
Hello, I appreciate the consideration. Could I have some time to think about it?
You took a sip of your coffee and decided to walk around the room. Looking over shoulders and helping when they asked, by the time you got back to your desk you had an email.
To: Tristen Heart
From: Shyla Corsen
I’ll need a response by the new year, take your time and thank you for considering it.
You closed your laptop and took a drink of your coffee, you spent the next 30 minutes watching the kids, focused and drawing. The bell rang and groans came from around the room. Time had gotten away from you and you hadn’t warned them that it was almost over.
Larissa was eating her lunch at her desk when a knock came from the door,
“Come in!” She called, just as she was about to say it again the door opened.
“Principal Weems?” Selene asked
“Yes darling?” She said
“I have a student here who would like to speak to you” she stepped aside to reveal a kid named Clementine
“Well come in and have a seat, what can I do for you?” Larissa smiled
Clementine walked forward slowly, heavy boots thudding against the wooden floors all the way to the chair.
“Hi Ms Weems” she said
“Hello dear, what can I do for you?” She said gently
“I made a card for Mr. Sykes and Scotty” she said looking at Larissa with bright green eyes
“That’s very sweet of you, may I see it?” She asked
“Clem thought it might make Mr. Sykes smile if she got the whole class to sign it, so that’s what we did.” Selene said smiling at Clementine
“I think this is wonderful, I’ll make sure I give this to him tonight” Larissa said brightly
“Thank you” Clementine said hopping down from the chair to face Selene
“Thank you for bringing me Miss” she said as she walked out of the office
Selene looked at Larissa,
“The students really miss Robby”
“I know they do, I think Tristen does too.” Larissa said.
“Are things better between the two of you?” Selene asked
“I think so, we’ve come to an understanding.” Larissa blushed a bit
“The understanding that you like each other?” Selene giggled
“Thank you for bringing Clementine to me, I’ll see you at the staff meeting on Monday” Larissa tried to disengage
“Whatever you say, Principal Weems” she winked and left the office.
Turning back to her emails, she couldn’t focus and instead pulled up the handbook to do some looking. She didn’t want to email anyone and outright ask, she found that to be awkward.
She found the section to do with relationships amongst fellow peers. It didn’t explicitly say no dating or that it was prohibited but did heavily highlight the fact that it needed to stay professional during school hours, which she agreed with.
Her next line of business was getting in touch with Mr. Jackson, one of the board leaders. She decided an email was the best route.
To: Peter Jackson
From: Larissa Weems, Principal
Good afternoon, Mr. Jackson
I’m writing because I’ve some questions about relationships between teachers here at the school. The handbook lays it clearly as not prohibited but must remain professional and I’m following up to make sure that is true.
She hit send and turned back to her emails, she had several waiting from parents about next term. About half an hour had passed when her email dinged in the bottom corner, she took a deep breath and opened it.
To: Larissa Weems, Principal
From: Peter Jackson
Hello, Larissa
Yes, that is correct. It is not prohibited as long as it remains professional. Thank you for checking with me before doing anything or allowing it.
She felt the smile pull at the corners of her mouth, trying her best to fight it off she cleared her throat and closed her laptop.
Morticia walked into the office after the school day was over with,
“Hello, darling” she greeted
“Tisha, how lovely to see you! I trust today went well?” She asked
“As well as it can when introducing poison to a bunch of teenagers.” She joked
Larissa sighed a laugh,
“That was expected I suppose”
“How was your day?” Morticia asked
“It was well, I’m having Tristen over for tea this evening to talk.” She admitted
Morticia sat down,
“Are you? Marvelous! Are you discussing what’s going to happen between the both of you” she raised a brow
“Oh heavens, that is possible but it’s not my main interest.” She said
“Well it should be, you two need to figure this out because everyone else can see it.” Morticia said
Larissa’s phone went off and she looked down, it was you
Tristen Heart: Dress code?
She smiled and quickly tried to hide it but Morticia caught it
“Must be Tristen” she said smugly
Larissa typed back quickly
Larissa Weems: Comfortable.
She sat her phone aside and looked at Morticia who was grinning like a fool,
“What was that about?” She asked
“She wanted to know the dress code” Larissa said
“And you said?” She asked
“Comfortable” Larissa smiled
You were in your quarters going through your clothes trying to find something comfortable but acceptable to have tea with Larissa. Robby usually helped you but you were alone now since he was out. You pulled out your old fencing hoodie and some shorts.
“Shorts in November?” You asked yourself
“Well we are inside I guess” you answered yourself
You pulled the shorts on and slid the hoodie over your head. You put your hair up in a loose ponytail and put some socks on. You checked the time and it was 5:50. You started to head for the door and stopped to grab your phone off the charger, who knew if this would be a long night or not.
You left without locking your door, it was Friday night after all and nobody ever comes to the teachers’ quarters on Fridays. You texted Robby on your way,
TRISTEN: I’ll be with Larissa for a while this evening so if you need me please call.
ROBSTER: Good luck! I want to hear all about it once you’re done
TRISTEN: You’ll be the first to know
You reached her door just in time, 6 on the dot. You knocked twice and waited. The door opened and standing before you was a Larissa you’d never seen before. You took a moment to take it in,
“Wow” you said quietly
You’d never seen her like this, she was wearing black pants with her old Nevermore hoodie and her hair was down. That’s what took you the longest to wrap your head around. Her hair was long, longer than you’d thought it was. It went down to her waist and it was wavy. She smiled down at you and stood to the side to welcome you in.
“Thank you for coming” she said
“Thank you for having me.” You smiled and sat down in front of the fire.
“I made tea, your favorite” she said
“Wonderful” you said taking the warm cup from her hands, fingers brushing.
She took a seat across from you and stared at you for a moment,
“Shorts in November” she said
“I knew you’d say something about it” you laughed
“Bold choice since there’s snow on the ground” she pointed out
“Not as bold as you wearing yoga pants.” You countered
“Alright, I suppose that’s fair” she laughed
“So what is tonight about?” You asked taking a sip of your tea, it was cinnamon
“I figured we needed to talk about what happened the other night.” She said
“Well I haven’t heard from Harper since, so if that’s what you’re worried about, don’t be.” You said
“It’s not her that I’m worried about. You literally leapt into my arms..” she said slowly
You dropped your head a little and smiled,
“Oh, that” you said biting the inside of your cheek to stop the smile from forming.
“Tristen” she said
“Larissa..I..I’m sorry I did that, it was a spur of the moment thing.” You said
“Don’t be sorry.” She said
“Why not?” You asked
“I guess now is the time to be honest” she adjusted in her seat to face you fully, “Tristen, I have liked you for quite some time. I’ve done my best to keep it from getting to you and by now you know that.” She said
“I know we can’t do anything, I respect that.” You said
“I did some looking today, nothing in the handbook states that we cannot explore a relationship.” She pointed out
You almost jumped out of your seat with excitement at the admission,
“Really?” You perked up
“Really. But we would need serious boundaries if we were to explore this.” She said
“I’m listening” you said
“We’d have to remain professional at all times during the school day, no staying the night until we are both comfortable, and we can be open about it but no boasting.” Larissa calmly explained
“I agree with those..can I also add to them?” You asked cautiously
“Set the bar, darling.” She said
“Okay, I am all for exploring this, but I need you to start therapy. I understand that you are traumatized but Larissa you are not yourself when you carry around the burden of what happened.” You explained
She nodded,
“I am aware and I agree. I can not continue to carry this hate, it is unhealthy, even if I am scared of healing.” She said
“I’ve been with someone who hated Normies and it was the cause of demise. I can’t put myself through that again. While I do not speak for them, I am related to a fair amount of Normies and if you ever should meet them, I need you to be better.” You explained quickly
Larissa never once broke eye contact but you could see tears forming in the corners of her eyes, which made you feel awful.
“I understand, I’m sorry that my behavior has been unbecoming.” She said softly
You reached across and put your hand on her knee,
“Larissa, you are an amazing person, you are truly wonderful and I just want you to feel better. That’s all.” You assured her
“I will reach out to Dr. Kinbott tomorrow morning and set up regular appointments.” She promised
“Larissa I can’t explain what I am feeling right now, I have so many emotions” your voice cracked
She came to sit beside you,
“What’s on your mind?” She asked
You looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in several days,
“I need us to be more than friends..” you said
The clock struck 8:30 and startled you both, returning her focus back to you,
“Then perhaps we start with a date?” She asked
“Are you asking me out?” You giggled
“You could say that, yes” she said
“The answer is yes, of course it’s yes.” You grinned
“How about we do a date on Sunday evening? I will take you to dinner.” She said
“I would love that, Larissa.” You said
“Then it’s planned, I’ll pick you up at 6 and we can go.” She put her arm around you
You leaned against her for a minute before adjusting to look at her again
“What?” She asked
“Do you think I offended Selene when I said I didn’t care that my mom died?” You grimaced
She laughed
“Probably, most people dread losing their Mums” she said
That ‘comment on your a03 work’ email hits like a line of cocaine every time. unmatched dopamine increase. shoutout to everyone who leaves a comment on fics. you deserve the world
»-♡→ Brushed
»-♡→ Grazed
»-♡→ Caressed
»-♡→ Stroked
»-♡→ Patted
»-♡→ Cradled
»-♡→ Rested against
»-♡→ Smoothed
»-♡→ Trailed along
»-♡→ Glided over
...or comforting:
➺ Squeezed
➺ Held
➺ Embraced
➺ Wrapped around
➺ Clasped
➺ Pressed gently against
➺ Rubbed
➺ Supported
➺ Steadied
➺ Cupped
...or affectionate:
➵ Ruffled
➵ Nuzzled
➵ Kissed
➵ Linked arms with
➵ Nestled against
➵ Curled around
➵ Leaned into
➵ Rested a hand on
➵ Laced fingers with
➵ Pulled close
...or romantic:
̗̀➛ Traced
̗̀➛ Ghosted across
̗̀➛ Brushed against
̗̀➛ Skimmed over
̗̀➛ Lingeringly stroked
̗̀➛ Ran a thumb along
̗̀➛ Tilted their chin
̗̀➛ Tucked a strand of hair behind their ear
̗̀➛ Pressed their forehead against
̗̀➛ Intertwined fingers
Writers age differently than other people. Not physically. Psychologically. You spend so much time inside fictional timelines and other people's memories and completely imagined emotional histories that your own life starts to feel like one of several possible versions. Like you're aware yours is the one that actually happened but you're not always sure it was the right call.
Non-writers think writers are introverts who just want to be alone. Incorrect. Writers want to be at the party, fully absorbing every conversation, clocking every weird thing anyone does, storing all of it, and then leave exactly 40 minutes before they get tired so they can go home and write about it. We're not antisocial. We're harvesting.
Here is finally the next chapter and now I’m caught up! Here’s the next chapter with Larissa 🩵
On ao3⬇️
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Or if you’d rather read it here ⬇️
Summary: A funeral, the board and poison, oh my!
Finding Your Heart
Chapter 13: Set The Bar
———
Finding Your Heart
Chapter 13: Set The Bar
Journal Entry: November 5th
It’s been 2 days since the disaster date and Larissa picking me up. I haven’t heard from Harper since but I guess that’s a good thing. That date made me feel like shit, why did I ever agree to that? Larissa swooping in really made me happy.
My mom’s funeral is tomorrow, my brother keeps trying to get me to go but I don’t want to, he doesn’t understand that I do not care. She made her choices and I made mine. I’m not carrying around the dead weight of missing someone who hated me my whole life. It’s just not worth my time.
Scott is still stable but not awake, Robby has not left his side since the accident. I get hourly updates which I appreciate, Morticia had flowers delivered on behalf of us teachers yesterday. I’m worried about Robbie’s mental state honestly.
Signing off, TRH
You closed your journal and went to check your muffins, you got up extra early this morning to make breakfast for everyone to place in the teachers’ lounge.
Scared by the ringing of your phone you quickly tossed down the pot holders to run and answer it.
You did it without looking.
“Hello?”
“Tristen” a males voice said
“Yes?”
“It’s Mark, you won’t return our texts.”
“Jesus Mark, there’s a reason for that.”
“You can’t run from your family forever.”
“I am not running, you all made a choice and so did I.”
“You owe us loyalty.”
“I don’t owe you shit”
You hung up the phone and tossed it down. You picked it back up and sighed, you sent off one single text to everyone.
Tristen Heart: I’m only going to say this once, I am not coming to the funeral. I do not care that she died and I don’t care how that makes any of you feel. You all made a choice to cut me out when I stood with my school so hold to that and don’t speak to me again. I am happy where I am and nothing you say will change that or how I feel about any of you. As far as I am concerned we are not family, so get it through your thick skulls. I am done now and blocking all of you.
You spent the next 20 minutes going through and blocking every family member you had in your contacts, except 1- your dad. Once that was done you went to plate the muffins and head out the door.
Checking the time it was 7:30, which was perfect. Platting them didn’t take too long, you grabbed your bag and headed out the door, hopefully everyone enjoyed them.
Selene saw you walking down the hall and waved,
“Good morning!” She said brightly
“Morning, Selene” you smiled
She held the door open for you, walking in you walked to the coffee counter and sat the muffins down and arranged them. Satisfied with it you went to make some coffee, Selene came up to you,
“Have you heard any more about Scott?” She asked
“He’s stable but not awake, they said it could take a week for him to wake up.” You said
“Poor Robby, I can’t imagine the pain he’s in.” She sighed
Just then the door opened and Margery came in followed by Larissa.
“Good morning, lovelies” Margery said
“Good morning, Margery” you smiled and handed her a muffin
“Where did these come from?” Larissa asked
“Tristen made them, she’s a wonderful baker” Selene smiled at you
“Are you?” Larissa asked
You handed her a muffin and motioned for her to try it, she did
“Oh my gods these are wonderful” she groaned
“Thank you, they’re my dads recipe” you beamed at the mention of your father
You didn’t speak about him much but you adored him. He divorced your mom when you were 16 and moved away shortly after. He never did approve of your moms next relationship but there wasn’t anything he could do from so far away. She married a Normie like herself and your dad wanted you to grow up with a strong outcast role model.
“Your dad really must know what he’s doing” Selene said taking a muffin
“He does, he’s the best baker I know” you said
“I’ve never heard you talk about your dad” a voice came from the door
You looked up to see who it was, it was Collin, another art teacher.
“Oh, yeah I don’t talk about him much” you gave a short laugh
“How come?” He asked
“He left when I was a teenager, we don’t see each other often but I adore him.” You said
“I’m sorry if that’s a touchy subject..” he said
“It’s alright, everyone knows about my crazy mom but not my dad.” You said
“Isn’t your mom a Normie?” He asked
“She was, yeah. My ability comes from my dads side” you said
“Was?”
“She died last week” you blurted out
A silence fell over the room, Larissa’s eyes went wide in horror,
“Tristen..why didn’t you say something?” She asked
“Because I don’t care” you said bluntly
Selene let out a small gasp,
“Why don’t you come to my office?” Larissa suggested
“Alright.” You said softly
You followed her out into the hallway and walked faster to keep pace with her strides. You made it to the office, she held the door for you to go in first. You took a seat across from her desk and put your hands in your lap, waiting in silence.
“Tristen.” She said
“Larissa.” You answered
“Are you alright?” She asked sitting on the edge of her desk
You looked down, fidgeting with the ring on your index finger you stayed quiet. Larissa lifted your chin with her finger,
“Tristen” she said softly
“Yeah” you nodded, “I’m fine. I told my brother this morning that I wasn’t going to carry the burden of missing someone who hates me.”
“Darling, it’s alright to have feelings about this.” She said
“I know, I just don’t know how to process them yet.” You said
She nodded and went to sit in her chair,
“Are you able to teach today?” She asked
“Of course” you answered
“I want us to get together tonight and talk, be here around 6” Larissa said
You nodded slowly,
“Alright, I’ll see you then” you stood up and turned to walk out.
You checked your phone once you got into the hallway as the bell rang,
ROBSTER: Hey, I have an update
TRISTEN: I’m ready
ROBSTER: He squeezed my hand earlier
TRISTEN: That’s amazing!
You pocketed your phone and made your way through the kids and to your classroom. You had a line formed, they were eager to get in and to their projects.
“Good morning everyone!” You said loudly as you opened the door and they rushed past you.
They all found their seats and waited with eager eyes for you to close the door.
“Happy Friday everyone! I see we are excited to get started today”
Everyone nodded quickly and Rhys put his hand up in the back,
“Yes, Rhys?” You said
“Miss can we go get our pictures?” He asked
“Yes, you may. Form a line and I’ll hand them out, chalks are by the projector” you smiled
A line quickly formed as you walked to the back of the room and opened the closet door, you handed them out one by one to each student who bounced back to their seats.
You took a seat at your desk and opened your laptop, you saw a list of emails and opened one from Mrs. Corsen, one of the board heads
To: Tristen Heart
From: Shyla Corsen
Miss. Heart, we have interest in moving you up to a higher year next school term. Would you be interested?
You took a second to look around the room at the kids, quiet, happy, safe. All in your classroom, did you want to teach older kids?
To: Shyla Corsen
From: Tristen Heart
Hello, I appreciate the consideration. Could I have some time to think about it?
You took a sip of your coffee and decided to walk around the room. Looking over shoulders and helping when they asked, by the time you got back to your desk you had an email.
To: Tristen Heart
From: Shyla Corsen
I’ll need a response by the new year, take your time and thank you for considering it.
You closed your laptop and took a drink of your coffee, you spent the next 30 minutes watching the kids, focused and drawing. The bell rang and groans came from around the room. Time had gotten away from you and you hadn’t warned them that it was almost over.
Larissa was eating her lunch at her desk when a knock came from the door,
“Come in!” She called, just as she was about to say it again the door opened.
“Principal Weems?” Selene asked
“Yes darling?” She said
“I have a student here who would like to speak to you” she stepped aside to reveal a kid named Clementine
“Well come in and have a seat, what can I do for you?” Larissa smiled
Clementine walked forward slowly, heavy boots thudding against the wooden floors all the way to the chair.
“Hi Ms Weems” she said
“Hello dear, what can I do for you?” She said gently
“I made a card for Mr. Sykes and Scotty” she said looking at Larissa with bright green eyes
“That’s very sweet of you, may I see it?” She asked
“Clem thought it might make Mr. Sykes smile if she got the whole class to sign it, so that’s what we did.” Selene said smiling at Clementine
“I think this is wonderful, I’ll make sure I give this to him tonight” Larissa said brightly
“Thank you” Clementine said hopping down from the chair to face Selene
“Thank you for bringing me Miss” she said as she walked out of the office
Selene looked at Larissa,
“The students really miss Robby”
“I know they do, I think Tristen does too.” Larissa said.
“Are things better between the two of you?” Selene asked
“I think so, we’ve come to an understanding.” Larissa blushed a bit
“The understanding that you like each other?” Selene giggled
“Thank you for bringing Clementine to me, I’ll see you at the staff meeting on Monday” Larissa tried to disengage
“Whatever you say, Principal Weems” she winked and left the office.
Turning back to her emails, she couldn’t focus and instead pulled up the handbook to do some looking. She didn’t want to email anyone and outright ask, she found that to be awkward.
She found the section to do with relationships amongst fellow peers. It didn’t explicitly say no dating or that it was prohibited but did heavily highlight the fact that it needed to stay professional during school hours, which she agreed with.
Her next line of business was getting in touch with Mr. Jackson, one of the board leaders. She decided an email was the best route.
To: Peter Jackson
From: Larissa Weems, Principal
Good afternoon, Mr. Jackson
I’m writing because I’ve some questions about relationships between teachers here at the school. The handbook lays it clearly as not prohibited but must remain professional and I’m following up to make sure that is true.
She hit send and turned back to her emails, she had several waiting from parents about next term. About half an hour had passed when her email dinged in the bottom corner, she took a deep breath and opened it.
To: Larissa Weems, Principal
From: Peter Jackson
Hello, Larissa
Yes, that is correct. It is not prohibited as long as it remains professional. Thank you for checking with me before doing anything or allowing it.
She felt the smile pull at the corners of her mouth, trying her best to fight it off she cleared her throat and closed her laptop.
Morticia walked into the office after the school day was over with,
“Hello, darling” she greeted
“Tisha, how lovely to see you! I trust today went well?” She asked
“As well as it can when introducing poison to a bunch of teenagers.” She joked
Larissa sighed a laugh,
“That was expected I suppose”
“How was your day?” Morticia asked
“It was well, I’m having Tristen over for tea this evening to talk.” She admitted
Morticia sat down,
“Are you? Marvelous! Are you discussing what’s going to happen between the both of you” she raised a brow
“Oh heavens, that is possible but it’s not my main interest.” She said
“Well it should be, you two need to figure this out because everyone else can see it.” Morticia said
Larissa’s phone went off and she looked down, it was you
Tristen Heart: Dress code?
She smiled and quickly tried to hide it but Morticia caught it
“Must be Tristen” she said smugly
Larissa typed back quickly
Larissa Weems: Comfortable.
She sat her phone aside and looked at Morticia who was grinning like a fool,
“What was that about?” She asked
“She wanted to know the dress code” Larissa said
“And you said?” She asked
“Comfortable” Larissa smiled
You were in your quarters going through your clothes trying to find something comfortable but acceptable to have tea with Larissa. Robby usually helped you but you were alone now since he was out. You pulled out your old fencing hoodie and some shorts.
“Shorts in November?” You asked yourself
“Well we are inside I guess” you answered yourself
You pulled the shorts on and slid the hoodie over your head. You put your hair up in a loose ponytail and put some socks on. You checked the time and it was 5:50. You started to head for the door and stopped to grab your phone off the charger, who knew if this would be a long night or not.
You left without locking your door, it was Friday night after all and nobody ever comes to the teachers’ quarters on Fridays. You texted Robby on your way,
TRISTEN: I’ll be with Larissa for a while this evening so if you need me please call.
ROBSTER: Good luck! I want to hear all about it once you’re done
TRISTEN: You’ll be the first to know
You reached her door just in time, 6 on the dot. You knocked twice and waited. The door opened and standing before you was a Larissa you’d never seen before. You took a moment to take it in,
“Wow” you said quietly
You’d never seen her like this, she was wearing black pants with her old Nevermore hoodie and her hair was down. That’s what took you the longest to wrap your head around. Her hair was long, longer than you’d thought it was. It went down to her waist and it was wavy. She smiled down at you and stood to the side to welcome you in.
“Thank you for coming” she said
“Thank you for having me.” You smiled and sat down in front of the fire.
“I made tea, your favorite” she said
“Wonderful” you said taking the warm cup from her hands, fingers brushing.
She took a seat across from you and stared at you for a moment,
“Shorts in November” she said
“I knew you’d say something about it” you laughed
“Bold choice since there’s snow on the ground” she pointed out
“Not as bold as you wearing yoga pants.” You countered
“Alright, I suppose that’s fair” she laughed
“So what is tonight about?” You asked taking a sip of your tea, it was cinnamon
“I figured we needed to talk about what happened the other night.” She said
“Well I haven’t heard from Harper since, so if that’s what you’re worried about, don’t be.” You said
“It’s not her that I’m worried about. You literally leapt into my arms..” she said slowly
You dropped your head a little and smiled,
“Oh, that” you said biting the inside of your cheek to stop the smile from forming.
“Tristen” she said
“Larissa..I..I’m sorry I did that, it was a spur of the moment thing.” You said
“Don’t be sorry.” She said
“Why not?” You asked
“I guess now is the time to be honest” she adjusted in her seat to face you fully, “Tristen, I have liked you for quite some time. I’ve done my best to keep it from getting to you and by now you know that.” She said
“I know we can’t do anything, I respect that.” You said
“I did some looking today, nothing in the handbook states that we cannot explore a relationship.” She pointed out
You almost jumped out of your seat with excitement at the admission,
“Really?” You perked up
“Really. But we would need serious boundaries if we were to explore this.” She said
“I’m listening” you said
“We’d have to remain professional at all times during the school day, no staying the night until we are both comfortable, and we can be open about it but no boasting.” Larissa calmly explained
“I agree with those..can I also add to them?” You asked cautiously
“Set the bar, darling.” She said
“Okay, I am all for exploring this, but I need you to start therapy. I understand that you are traumatized but Larissa you are not yourself when you carry around the burden of what happened.” You explained
She nodded,
“I am aware and I agree. I can not continue to carry this hate, it is unhealthy, even if I am scared of healing.” She said
“I’ve been with someone who hated Normies and it was the cause of demise. I can’t put myself through that again. While I do not speak for them, I am related to a fair amount of Normies and if you ever should meet them, I need you to be better.” You explained quickly
Larissa never once broke eye contact but you could see tears forming in the corners of her eyes, which made you feel awful.
“I understand, I’m sorry that my behavior has been unbecoming.” She said softly
You reached across and put your hand on her knee,
“Larissa, you are an amazing person, you are truly wonderful and I just want you to feel better. That’s all.” You assured her
“I will reach out to Dr. Kinbott tomorrow morning and set up regular appointments.” She promised
“Larissa I can’t explain what I am feeling right now, I have so many emotions” your voice cracked
She came to sit beside you,
“What’s on your mind?” She asked
You looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in several days,
“I need us to be more than friends..” you said
The clock struck 8:30 and startled you both, returning her focus back to you,
“Then perhaps we start with a date?” She asked
“Are you asking me out?” You giggled
“You could say that, yes” she said
“The answer is yes, of course it’s yes.” You grinned
“How about we do a date on Sunday evening? I will take you to dinner.” She said
“I would love that, Larissa.” You said
“Then it’s planned, I’ll pick you up at 6 and we can go.” She put her arm around you
You leaned against her for a minute before adjusting to look at her again
“What?” She asked
“Do you think I offended Selene when I said I didn’t care that my mom died?” You grimaced
She laughed
“Probably, most people dread losing their Mums” she said
Summary: Lorne is sent to a new department for a mandatory wellness session of sorts.
Tags: corporate setting, kink discovery, praise kink, first time, fingering, slight manipulation (if you squint)
Trigger warnings: NSFW (minors DNI), graphic descriptions of sex
A/N: To the Anon who waited +1 year for this fanfic (and to all the others still waiting for theirs): I AM SO DEEPLY SORRY!!!
As you put your pencil down, your eyes flick to your monitor. On it, your schedule displays a single appointment for the morning: Lorne, Wed. 7, 10:00. You check your wristwatch right as the minute hand locks into place over 9:59, and you smile, congratulating yourself for finishing your previous task in an exemplary amount of time.
You realign a few items on your desk and take one last look around your wood-and-phthalo-green office. Innie Fulfilment, as the department your office is located in is called, was created after the Board decided that unfulfilled innies were unproductive innies. Helping innies figure out what they need begins with a safe and orderly place. So you need to make sure this one will feel welcoming to the head of Mammalians Nurturable.
Content with your organisation, you stand, smooth your blue blazer and adjust your badge, then walk to the door.
You find Lorne behind it, pacing rather than sitting in the waiting room, her convocation securely pinched between her thumb and index finger while her other hand contracts rhythmically. She is tall and muscular, rather unkempt, but you immediately sense unease. So you straighten your back and lift your chin a little, imposing yourself as a grounding figure for her right from the start.
“Lorne?”
Your voice is calm but firm enough to stop her in her tracks.
“What am I doing here?” she asks, closing the distance. “I have work to do. I have no time for a wellness session. Certainly not with an imposter.”
“This is not a wellness session,” you reply, ignoring the reference to the regretted Ms Casey.
“Then what is this?”
Lorne swiftly brings the card up to your face. It reads:
Undeterred by her provocation, you slowly lift your hand and point to the small plaque by your door that she clearly hasn’t read.
“The Wellness wing has been reallocated.”
Lips pinched, Lorne takes a step back, and her shoulders hunch ever so slightly in the face of her mistake. She appears somewhat smaller now, more vulnerable. You smirk, finding that you prefer it this way.
“Come in,” you offer as you show her the way.
Lorne reluctantly follows you.
“How is this going to differ from a wellness session, then?” she asks as you reach your desk.
You sashay behind it and turn to face her.
“Wellness has always supported Lumon’s employees, but Innie Fulfilment is here to support you even further. Sessions are less about me talking without listening and more about helping you explore your needs. Today is just a conversation to see what comes up. No pressure.”
You gesture towards the chair across your desk, but Lorne ignores your invitation.
“I’m perfectly fine,” she says instead.
“Your body language tells me otherwise.”
Lorne tenses slightly, and you know you hit the nail. You indicate the chair once more.
“Sit.”
You notice her swallowing, but she complies and lowers herself onto the chair, clasping one of her hands in the other. You take a moment to appreciate your position of physical dominance over her.
“Good,” you eventually say as you sit in your own chair. “Now tell me, Lorne. Is there something you need right now?”
“I need to get back to my goats.”
The dry reply forces a small laugh out of you.
“I’m sure the flock will be fine without its queen for a little while. Or do you not trust your team?”
“Of course, I trust them.”
“Then what’s the rush? Do you love your goats that much?”
“I… Yes. They need me.”
Your eyes instinctively squint as you try to deduce a deeper connection between those words.
“Do you like being needed?”
Lorne’s jaw clenches at your question, but you’re perceptive enough to also notice her nostrils flaring and her pupils dilating almost imperceptibly.
“I thought this was not about you talking without listening,” Lorne says to avoid your question and to further provoke you.
You wonder if this is a conscious choice of hers and whether she expects submission or some fighting back. You don’t care much for unruly manners, so you know you’d better soothe her before she gets the latter.
“I would be happy to remain silent and to listen to you for the duration of this session. You need only tell me and be the one who talks.”
Lorne sighs wearily, wringing her hands with obvious discomfort.
“I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to… feel.”
“Feel what?”
“I don’t know.”
Your eyes fall on Lorne’s lap where she is furiously rubbing —or rather, abrading— her hands.
“Pain, perhaps?” You offer gently.
Lorne lifts her head with a quiet ‘Hmm?’ so you nod at her hands.
“You’ve been fidgeting nonstop. Do your hands hurt?”
This time, instead of an immediate rebuttal or deflection, you are met with a contemplative pause. You understand from the way Lorne looks down at her hands that she is trying to reconnect —or perhaps solely connect— with her body.
“Working with goats is certainly not for the weak,” she says more calmly, though not without a hint of superiority.
Your mouth curls up at the idea of breaking through her walls. For some reason, you have made this a personal goal already.
Silence sets in for a second before you stand up and move unhurriedly to a nearby shelf. You can feel Lorne’s piercing gaze on your back as you select an essential oil and place exactly six generous drops onto a receptacle. Soon, a light mist spreads across your office and, behind you, Lorne gasps.
“Are you trying to poison me?”
You can’t help a giggle.
“No. I have a diffuser system. This is lavender,” you say as you show her the small vial to prove you mean no harm. “I thought you might like it.”
Lorne looks around nervously, her breath too restrained for your liking.
“Well, do you?” you ask. “I can change it. Any scent you like.”
“Lavender is fine,” Lorne finally admits.
“Good. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath.”
Lorne raises a suspicious eyebrow at the command, but you don’t let her win.
“Go on.”
Without much conviction, she obeys, her eyelids closing and her taut shoulders rising as she inhales before sagging much further down than their original position when she breathes out. Your lips part in a proud smile.
You stay right where you are for a little while, letting her enjoy the peaceful space, the silence, the floral scent. Your patience gives her the illusion of control and evidently makes her feel safer.
But she is still wringing her hands, and you realise you cannot stand the thought of having her in pain in a way that seems to go beyond the scope of your profession. So you close the distance, gracefully drop to your knees before her, and catch one of her hands.
“What are you doing?” she practically barks, pulling her hand away as if you’d burnt her.
“Shh… I mean you no harm. Quite the opposite, actually. Close your eyes and trust me.”
Lorne doesn’t close her eyes, but she doesn’t pull away any further nor make a move to leave. So you take her hand again and let her keep her eyes open if that pleases her.
“Suit yourself.”
You begin with a few slow caresses along her hand and wrist, letting her get used to the feeling of another in her private space, then start massaging her palm with practised ease, rubbing your thumbs along the lines there.
You’re painfully aware of her staring at your face —and perhaps lower too, considering the angle— but don’t give her the satisfaction of reacting. In fact, you observe her, too. Despite the faint goat smell on her teal uniform and her messy hair, you realise it is impossible to be indifferent about her. In fact, you find her hard-working but oh-so-delicate hands particularly fascinating, and the way she seems to naturally hold her middle and ring fingers together gives you visions you need to shake off.
Lost in your thoughts, your movements become more instinctive but also apparently better because Lorne lets out the inception of a moan before interrupting herself. It takes all your willpower not to look up and let your pride show in a mischievous smile.
“You’re not used to being touched, are you?”
“My… position does not require physical contact,” Lorne retorts with as much propriety as she can muster under your touch.
“No, of course not.”
You gently let go of her hand and switch to the other.
“Would you like to be touched more often?” you ask —with a purely professional curiosity, naturally.
But Lorne pretends not to hear you, and when you do finally look up, she has closed her eyes, leaving no room for further investigation. So you focus on giving her a much-deserved moment of calm, keeping silent until you’re done with your task.
When you are, it takes Lorne a moment to reopen her eyes. You wait patiently and prepare a smile for her to find when she does.
“See?” you say as you stand up, reassuming your dominant posture. “It isn’t so bad, is it?”
“I… suppose not.”
You know just how much admitting this cost her, and your smile widens to convey appreciation.
“Good.”
You walk back to your desk, sit with a smooth and elegant cross of your legs, and immediately undertake to type out your report. Lorne sits still and lifts a perfectly arched eyebrow.
“Is that all?”
You turn to her, feigning obliviousness.
“Well, yes.”
A pause. You sense she will not settle for this answer.
“I can work with no talking,” you add. “I can work a little less with no feeling. But I can’t work at all if you have no desire to be here. So… You are free to go.”
Lorne blinks and remains unmoving before she seems to remember how her inferior limbs work and stands up.
“But if you ever need more of this,” you say, purposely keeping your eyes on your screen as you type away, “or anything else… appointments can be scheduled from your personal employee space.”
You finally look at her, your gaze piercing even if you’re the one below her now.
“Anything.”
When Lorne leaves your office, she makes an effort to hold her head up as if to tell you this is the last of her you will ever see. But you know better.
And that evening, indeed, as you clean up your desk and reach behind your monitor to turn it off, a notification pops up.
Lorne, Wed. 14, 10:00.
The next time you open the door to your office to meet Lorne in the waiting room, she is actually sitting on the dedicated green sofa. You almost congratulate her, but you don’t want to give her this satisfaction just yet.
“You came back,” you simply state instead.
Lorne shrugs.
“I had time.”
She’s lying. It makes you smirk —though you are particularly good at making it seem like a perfectly polite smile and nothing more. You step aside, a hand slowly rising to invite her in, and she complies right away.
As she passes by you, closer than needed, you notice her posture is less rigid than last time, though her hands still worry at her uniform. The faint scent of goats clings to her as well, but she has made an effort —her hair is neater, her skirt less rumpled, her face fully clean.
Inside your office, Lorne doesn’t find the chair she sat on last time —or not only. The lights are already dimmer, you have already let some faint lavender mist spread across the room, and in the centre stands a massage table. Lorne turns to you with a questioning look.
“Oh, the office can be rearranged, tailored to each employee and their needs,” you explain with corporate pride.
“And you thought… I needed to lie down for a massage?”
You rest one hip against your desk and place a well-manicured hand on the other.
“Well, last time you didn’t seem to know what you needed. Or you didn’t tell me. So I thought that I would take a load off your shoulders and decide for you.”
You lean forward, your eyes narrowing.
“Working with the goats and being the head of a full team must be demanding. Your body has accumulated so much tension. Wouldn’t it be nice to just… rest for a while and trust someone to make all the decisions and take care of you?”
Lorne looks at the massage table again, then back at you. You sense she needs a bit more convincing.
“I truly believe this would do you good, Lorne. You won’t have to talk. You won’t even have to think. If it seems too absurd, you may think of it as… maintenance. Like oiling a machine so it runs smoother.”
Lorne scoffs.
“I’m not a machine.”
“Don’t you behave like one?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.
Lorne opens her mouth to argue, but you raise your eyebrows, and she closes it.
“Take off your jacket and shoes,” you instruct, pushing yourself off your desk to walk towards a cabinet standing in a corner.
As you do, you discreetly look above your shoulder to see if Lorne is doing as instructed, and you can read from her expression of barely contained surprise that she didn’t expect obedience to be so easy. You smile to yourself, turning back to the cabinet from which you withdraw a nicely wrapped massage kit —a baby blue bandeau stamped with the Lumon logo, tiny shorts of the same colour, a white terry headband, and a large towel.
“The door behind you leads to a small restroom,” you tell her when you give her the kit. “Go change.”
“Is this… approved?”
You nod reassuringly.
“I did mean it when I said I could cater for every need. Save perhaps from showing an Innie the outside world, of course. And physical well-being is part of mental well-being, wouldn’t you say?”
You see Lorne’s shoulders slightly moving as she tries to shrug. Seeing that her attempts at appearing nonchalant or assertive around you keep failing, she turns on her heels and promptly exits through the door you indicated. Another win for you.
When Lorne comes back, she has wrapped the towel around herself, so you walk up behind her and wrap your arms around her torso to take it off. Surprisingly —but is it, really?— she lets you without any additional commentary.
“Come lie down. Face up first,” you command after neatly spreading the towel onto the table.
Lorne hesitates for a second, her eyes darting around the room, but she soon steps closer and lies down stiffly, arms crossed over her chest like an armour.
“There are no cameras here, I promise,” you say softly. “No microphones either. Perks of this department, I suppose.”
“And I should simply trust you?”
“Yes.”
You are firm with this affirmation, but not unkind. Never unkind. You want her to let her guard down, to have access to the whole of her. So you bend above her, take her hands with infinite care, and place them by her hips.
“Relax your arms. Let your muscles rest.”
Your eyes stay locked a moment on her hands, still restless, fingers gripping the edge of the towel. You lock her wrists into place and let your tone switch to a coercive whisper.
“Relax.”
You wait. One second, two, then perhaps ten. And finally Lorne’s body listens.
“Good.”
Slowly, you take off your shoes and push them under the table. You lose a few precious inches without the heels, but it’s not like Lorne will notice lying down, and you don’t want to disturb whatever semblance of peace she may find. Then, you walk up to the head of the table, making sure to let your hand run along her arm as you do. You notice goose bumps forming.
You begin the massage with her shoulders, your palms warm and your fingers tugging at any tension you feel with practised, precise, corporate efficiency —the way Lumon would approve of a task being performed. Your thumbs press into the knots around her trapeziuses and deltoids, drawing circles, and Lorne lets out a quiet hiss while you catch yourself wanting to have your thumbs draw those circles elsewhere.
Now that she is half naked, you cannot help but take a better look at the head of Mammalians Nurturable. She is impossibly tall, with legs for days, and lean too, despite a soft swell in her lower belly. The one-size-fits-all ensemble provided by the company barely covers her gigantic body, and you realise that, if a misfit would deeply annoy you with any other innie, with Lorne, you find the size most convenient.
But you also realise Lorne has her eyes still wide open, so unabashed staring is most untimely.
“You’re very tight,” you observe before clearing your throat and moving away for a bit.
Lorne’s eyes follow you as you go retrieve a hot towel that you had set to warm up before her appointment, then come back.
“Close your eyes.”
“Well, I—”
“Tsk. No arguing.”
You lower the hot towel over Lorne’s face, forcing her to close her eyes.
“Good. Now, stop thinking.”
You resume your massage and work your way down her arms, her sides, eventually reaching the muscles and ligaments just above her hips. When you start working there, kneading the tightness away, Lorne’s breath intakes grow stronger —shakier, too. She shifts slightly, pressing her thighs together, then apart, then together again.
At first you think she might be in pain. So you reduce the amount of pressure you put on that area, opting for a gentler, soothing touch, with one hand providing warmth around her hip and another on her thigh, forcing her legs to part so they remain in a natural position. You devote an equal amount of time to each hip.
Lorne stops squirming for a moment, though her breathing remains heavy but shallow. You wonder why —or rather, your professional self wonders why because deep down you already know. But when your hands brush the waistband of her tiny shorts and her hips give the faintest thrust upwards, you understand very well that this is not about the sort of ache you initially intended to treat.
Your pulse quickens, but you manage to keep your face neutral. It’s not like she can see it with the hot towel across her face, but you cannot let control slip away so easily. That wouldn’t represent Lumon. That wouldn’t represent you.
You make quick work of the rest of her legs on this side before you discard the hot towel and invite Lorne to flip onto her stomach. You have a theory to test.
“Well, look at you following my instructions without arguing,” you murmur as she settles face down. “Good…”
Her breath catches, and her hips twitch again, though you notice the way she tries to recover by pretending she is not quite done finding the right position. You decide to place a hand on her shoulder blade, applying gentle pressure to force her to calm down, and lean forward.
“Are you ready to go on?” you whisper in her ear.
She replies with more of a needy groan than a hum of affirmation.
“Perfect.”
You start from her neck again, then her arms and back, your touch deliberate and purposely lingering too long on the spots she seems to like most. Slowly, her hips resume their dance, and she presses her thighs together again. You consciously avoid her lower back and hips for now, however, and look at your wristwatch again. 10:38. This session is supposed to end in about twenty minutes, but your next appointment won’t be in for close to another hour. You have time to explore these new sensations Lorne seems to be discovering.
You move to stand at the foot of the massage table and place your hands on Lorne’s calves. You lift your head mechanically then, and your eyes fall right between her legs. That is when you notice it: the small, dark spot of wetness on her shorts. It is barely discernible in the dim light of your office, but it is there.
You smile proudly. This is too interesting, and Lorne doesn’t know it yet, but she is perfect for this —for you.
She sighs as you work your way up the back of her legs, loosening any tension you encounter along the way. By the time you reach her upper thighs and let your hands repeatedly run down to their inner side, about one in three of her exhales has turned into a quiet whimper. And in just under five minutes, you’re quite sure you’ve made the damp spot on her core spread a little. You realise your own breathing has quickened and grown stronger. You allow it.
Eventually you move your hands to her lower back, your thumbs drawing tight circles around the soft dimples there. Lorne presses her pelvis down against the table with a frustrated sound, barely audible but like music to your ears. So you finally decide to help her —after all, this is what you’re here for, is it not?— and press the heel of your palm to her upper glutes. You’re not preventing her from moving per se, but rather letting your weight offer pleasant resistance so she can fully enjoy the sensation of compression against her lower abdomen.
Lorne's body knows how to respond to this. Her hips begin to rock, if only faintly, in that tiny, relaxing space you’ve created. Her fingers grasp at whatever they can under the table. You swallow hard, your own body reacting to the sight.
Suddenly, it dawns on you: Lorne can’t possibly know what she’s doing. Innies like her, raised in Lumon’s sterile environment with no knowledge of a life beyond work, are so innocent about these things. Mentally, you congratulate yourself for making her find out.
“That’s it,” you encourage, your voice slightly less steady than you had hoped. “Listen to your body. Just like that…”
Soon, Lorne’s whole body tenses for a moment. Her hips press down one final time, her thighs press against each other until they shake and then go still.
You wait, your hands still on her back. She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t seem to understand what just happened. But the wetness between her legs is wider. Much wider. So you do.
And you know with absolute certainty that she will be back without needing any further convincing. You feel happy for her. Thrilled for yourself. Her next appointment will never come fast enough.
It is 9:47 the following week when a strange feeling rises in your chest—a presentiment, of sorts, telling you that many things will stray from their usual paths today. Mustering your calm, you put your pencil down and align it perfectly with your notepad. Your monitor is off, reflecting a darker, convex version of you. Even in this distorted reflection, you find yourself pleased with what you see, ready to face whatever might be coming your way.
You stand and take off your blazer as though taking off armour —you don’t need it— then roll up your sleeves. The top buttons of your white shirt are already undone, and you intend to leave them this way for Lorne.
Sure enough, when you step out of your office, she is already here, just closing the door to the waiting room. Your instinct never betrays you, and you are grateful for it.
“Hello, Lorne. I had a feeling you would come in early today.”
Lorne gulps, surely surprised that you caught her premature arrival.
“I’ve done a lot already,” she says, clasping her hands in front of her. “I delegated the rest of my morning tasks. I wan—”
She stumbles upon the words and clears her throat, lifting her chin up to give herself a sense of composure.
“I wanted to be here.”
Your smile brightens, showing teeth.
“Well, look at you, finally making decisions for yourself. I’m proud of you.”
You let the words hang for a second, then step aside and gesture for her to come inside.
“Please, do come in. See how I’ve adjusted the setup for today’s session.”
Once again, your office has been transformed. On the floor, right in the centre, lies a thick, foamy futon —Lumon-issued, marketed as an ‘ergonomic floor rest appliance’— covered with a soft phthalo-green blanket. Around it, you’ve methodically placed spherical candle holders, as well as plants and pebbles for decoration. You’ve also placed a neatly folded towel at the head of the futon and a small side table next to it with a few extras such as a clay bowl of water and various lotion bottles.
You walk to the cabinet and withdraw the same single-use ensemble as last time, and by the time you turn around to hand it to Lorne, she is already taking off her jacket and other accessories.
“You’re a fast learner,” you tell her softly.
Something lights up in her eyes. She likes being praised —this much you’ve learnt about her. You give her the wrapped massage kit, and she heads to the small restroom with a certain thrill in her stance.
As she disappears behind the door, you turn to your essential oil shelf. Your hand instinctively moves to lavender but stops. You need something else today. So you let your pointer finger glide past the vials, back and forth, until it settles on the evidence: amber vanilla —warm, comforting, more sophisticated, too.
You put a few drops into the diffuser’s receptacle to get it started and close your eyes. The sweetness of vanilla pairs perfectly with amber. You smile, most definitely content with your choice.
The bathroom door opens, pulling you out of your meditative moment.
“Would you like a soundscape today, or some—”
Lorne steps closer, entirely naked, the massage kit still wrapped and pressed against her stomach like a shield. Her eyes flick to yours, then down, then back up, as if asking if this was a good decision, if you like what you see. And you do. Your breath falters for a moment, but you recover before she notices any weakness. Instead, you look her up and down. Silence stretches. You let her feel the weight of your gaze.
“Is this what you want, Lorne?” you ask eventually.
Your tone is already more voluptuous, though still somewhat cautious. Lorne nods slowly.
“This is what I need.”
Happy that she has finally identified and expressed a desire, you gesture towards the futon, eager to fulfil it.
“Please, lie down. On your back.”
Lorne doesn’t make you say it twice and lowers herself onto the futon with more grace than you would have expected from the head of Mammalians Nurturable. Rather embarrassed of herself despite the evident anticipation in her eyes, she crosses her arms over her chest and presses her knees together.
“Arms at your sides. Let me see you,” you command as you kneel beside her, comfortably installed on a cushion, and allow yourself another look at her body.
Lorne hesitates before inevitably obeying. Her nipples are taut, her skin is covered in light goosebumps.
“Are you cold?” you whisper. “I can turn on the heating for you.”
Lorne shakes her head.
“Excited then?”
A shy hum answers this last question.
“That’s very good,” you say, your voice seamlessly shifting to a low, breathy timbre. “This is going to feel very nice, Lorne. Better than last time, you know that.”
You’re not asking this time, but Lorne still nods.
You reach for one of the lotion bottles next to you. The label reads ‘Almond & Jojoba Blend’ in small, official-looking text. You pour a generous amount into your palm, rubbing your hands together to warm the oil before placing them on Lorne’s collarbones.
You can’t just give her what she seeks quite yet: she is too unsure, too tense for now. So you start with a regular massage, oil gliding effortlessly over her skin and tinting it with golden highlights, thumbs pressing into the knots you find. Lorne sighs.
“Your shoulders are still tense, but not as bad as before,” you remark. “Have you abstained from heavy lifting recently?”
“Something like that.”
The reasons don’t seem that important right now, so you don’t ask her to elaborate. What matters most to you is the way her breath seems to grow steadier and deeper, shifting to this indescribable but oh-so-beautiful sound between a sigh and a moan.
You work your way down her arms, then her hands, massaging each palm and each finger individually, with great consideration, showing that you care and making sure her muscles won’t feel sore when she inescapably clutches at the blanket later from what you intend to do.
You move back up her arms, then to her chest. You avoid her breasts at first —with immense self-restraint— and rather let your hands glide over her ribs and along her solar plexus.
“Breathe…”
Soon, your fingers move of their own accord and naturally include Lorne’s bust in their strokes. Her breasts are small, but you find that they fit perfectly in your hand, soft and malleable, like her. You squeeze them gently, kneading them. The massage has definitely shifted to something much more sensual. This is the point of no return.
Lorne lets out a quiet gasp, her back slightly arching. Her breath is coming a little faster now, too.
“I said breathe,” you scold her without any real edge to your tone. “You don’t want this to end in a matter of seconds, do you?”
Lorne shakes her head, now holding her breath altogether, her eyes wide with something akin to worry. It almost makes you chuckle.
“So breathe. Calmly.”
When Lorne’s nipples are too sensitive to keep the teasing going but you feel her getting too used to your touch on the rest of her breasts, you move lower to her stomach and down to her hips to revive her arousal. The oil glistens on her skin in the candlelight, and the scent of amber vanilla mixes with it. She looks and smells exquisite, making your own arousal increasingly hard to ignore.
Still, you remain focused and as impassive as possible, working around her hips and lower abdomen. You have now reached a dangerous zone, and it is rather impossible to ignore the gentle patch of hazel curls that cover her mound. More specifically, you struggle with not letting yourself drown in the thought of how wet she might be getting. But the more you massage the soft swell above her pubis, the more Lorne presses her thighs together, locking that secret away —for now…
When she starts whimpering, your hands move to her thighs. You don’t force them to part —you want her willing and happy to comply.
“Now, Lorne… Be good. Relax and open those legs for me.”
Your tone is sultry but uncompromising. But the strictness is not needed: Lorne slowly, deliberately spreads her legs, and a third scent mixes with the previous ones —musky, vaguely agrarian, undeniably her, and intoxicating.
Lorne has indeed been getting impossibly wet during your little foreplay. The hairs that frame her lips are drenched and stuck together, and a trickle runs from her entrance to the blanket under her body. There is something so innocent and yet so desperate about the way she is offering herself to you. Your pupils double in size at the sight.
“That’s it. You’re beautiful.”
Her body responds to the praise, her hips shifting slightly, calling for your touch. So you finally look up to seek her eyes. The trust you find in them makes you shiver. Still, you want —no, you need— to make sure she is aware of what is about to happen.
“Do you want me to touch you down there, Lorne?”
She gives you a couple of quick nods. Your lips purse in dissatisfaction.
“Say it. It is very important to me that you voice your desire. This is what Innie Fulfilment is for.”
“I do. T-touch me. Please.”
Her request comes out in a stammering gasp, but you know to put it down to trepidation rather than uncertainty.
So, without tearing your eyes from her face, you let your dominant hand fall between her legs, while the other rests reassuringly against her plump inner thigh. Your fingers meet her outer lips. She starts panting, and you stop.
“Shh… Calm down. This will feel really good. You want this.”
Lorne takes a shaky breath, and you resume your exploration, unrushed. Soon you decide you want more and reach for a small bottle of ‘skin hydration serum’. It is lubricant, in all honesty, but the official Lumon label makes the whole situation seem somewhat respectable. You pour some onto your fingers before pressing your index finger past her slit to give her clit a gentle stroke. You find it already swollen and throbbing under your touch.
Then your fingertips trace the soft folds of her vulva, like checking the edges of an intricate piece of origami. She’s drenched, her arousal mixing with the lotions on your skin. Her hips shift, seeking more, but not really knowing in which direction to thrust. When you finally decide to help her and circle her entrance, the muscles there clench, and she cries out.
“You’re so very wet,” you observe in a low murmur. “The body knows exactly what it wants, doesn’t it?”
Lorne only replies with a strangled sound.
“And you knew from our first session you could trust me to understand what yours needed.”
Lorne nods with great effort before her head drops back on the futon, rolling from side to side as she writhes. You wish she used her words, but you decide not to torture her any further today.
“You, on the other hand, don’t have to understand anything,” you say instead. “You just have to trust me…”
You push your middle finger inside her, slow but deliberate.
“And feel.”
A soft, needy ‘Oh’ escapes her as her hips lift off the futon. You drape your free arm from her right iliac region to the left, pressing down on her lower abdomen so she stays in place, incapable of shimmying away from your touch.
“Ah!”
“You’re so responsive, Lorne… I really like that about you.”
As the words leave your mouth before you even finish conjuring them in thought, you realise this is the first time you reveal your own preferences. You almost berate yourself mentally for being so unprofessional, so not detached. But Lorne lets out her first real moan at that, and her walls open to welcome your finger knuckle-deep before they squeeze around you, so perhaps this was not entirely wrong.
“That’s it.”
You take your time to let Lorne’s body accommodate. Most severed employees are not virgins outside of the workplace, but you can only guess how emotionally loaded this second loss of virginity of sorts can be.
But then, as soon as you feel like one finger has become too manageable, you slide another in, stretching her gently before curling those digits to find her most sensitive spot. You can sense her pleasure rising quickly, and you find that there is no point in drawing out a first time unnecessarily.
You coo as you watch her mouth fall open. She is holding her breath —the pink hue spreading across her upper chest and neck and the tightness around her throat betray it.
“There… You can be as loud as you want, Lorne.”
“C-Can’t.”
The word comes out strained and hoarse but still so innocent and desperate.
“Yes, you can. I want to hear you.”
Your words are accompanied by a more insistent curl of your fingers inside her, and Lorne’s lungs fill up dramatically like those of a newborn babe before she releases the air in one long, continuous cry.
“Yes… You are being so good, Lorne.”
Your fingers work her with precision, only slightly faster now. Your thumb joins in as well, circling her clit tightly as you finally put those massage techniques to better use. Lorne’s entire body is quivering in even less time than you had hoped.
Suddenly, her eyes find yours, and you don’t even need to tell her to come. The pride on your face is enough for her to let go. She throws her head back and contracts around your fingers as the orgasm crashes over her. You keep your fingers moving, helping her through the potent sensations, feeling every pulse of her release and the juices finding their way past your hand.
Lorne doesn’t even dare to say a word when she is done, even though she is visibly overwhelmed and you are now overstimulating her.
“Poor you…” you coo again. “That was a lot, wasn’t it?”
Progressively, you stop moving and let her inner muscles do all the work of pushing you out. Your gaze drops to your fingers then, coated with the evidence of her pleasure. You consider bringing them to your lips or perhaps even to Lorne’s. But the latter would be too much for her, and the former might make you seem too invested. Instead, you crawl up her body to whisper some last praise in her ear, then stand up to put an end to the session like nothing ever happened.
That Friday, you press a neatly manicured finger on the power button of your terminal at 17:22. It is a bit earlier than usual, but it has been quite the eventful week, and the weekend calls for you to take care of your own needs. So you gather your belongings, drape your coat nicely across your arm and head out.
Stepping out into the waiting room, your hand fumbles into your bag for your key. Your hair gets in the way and, as you lift your head to shake it aside, you notice Lorne, sitting on the green sofa, wringing her fingers anxiously in her lap. You straighten your back, not letting her see any other version of you than the professional one.
“Lorne. I didn’t expect you. Did you take an appointment I was not aware of?”
The mere idea of a schedule malfunctioning makes your body tense. You do hate it when things don’t go according to your plans.
“No,” Lorne reassures as she stands up and smooths her skirt. “I… wanted to talk to you. Needed to, in fact.”
You swallow hard. She has destabilised you. You need to regain control. So you check your watch, pretending to have to think about it, as if you had not already made up your mind and the Innie Fulfilment protocol did not obligate you to help severed employees who requested it. But you rapidly give in and open your door once more.
“Come on in then. We have about an hour before the building closes.”
Lorne nods with gratitude and hurries inside like you could reconsider any second.
“So… You need to talk to me. Quite the progress we’ve made there, Lorne,” you say as you close the door and join her further into your office.
Lorne looks around, unused to seeing the room so empty and no longer tailored to your sessions. You take a good look at her and notice not only her nervousness growing, but also how neatly she is presenting herself to you today.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing here,” she mumbles, turning to you but now looking at her feet.
“Oh, I think you are.”
You lean back against your desk, eyeing her with patient strictness.
“I was merely thinking about what happened on Wednesday.”
“Yes?”
“My mind keeps circling back to what you said. About… making you proud. Being good.”
Your eyes darken, and your lips part in a small smirk.
“Did you like being praised, Lorne?”
Lorne doesn’t reply, but the expression on her face tells you more than enough. You tilt your head to the side, and your smile widens.
“Do you want to be good again?”
Lorne says nothing for a moment. It feels like an eternity. And then you see it: the nod, faint but desperate. You turn your back to her to put your bag and coat down on your desk, but not only. You also seize the occasion to unbutton your blouse some more, and this time, your bra actually shows.
Sure enough, Lorne gawks at it when you face her again, her nostrils flaring, her pale skin flushing. Good. This is exactly how you want her.
Or, actually… Not quite yet.
There is only a tiny adjustment needed to get this extra session started. You’re going to ask, and you know she’s going to obey. So you say the word without any preamble or caution.
Person A: "I plan to make you fall in love with me."
Person B: "I'm already in love with you though?"
Person A: "Yes, and that's great, but I have to do it."
Person B: "You already have, just unintentionally."
Person A: "The intention is the most important part."
Person B: "I'm going to need you to tread real carefully now, because it's starting to sound like my years of unrequited love were inconsequential to you."
Another chapter with everyone’s fav blue eyed lady 🩵
On ao3⬇️
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary: Todays the day and your nerves are on fire, Larissa gives you a warning and you ignored it, how will this turn out?
Finding Your Heart
Chapter 12: I Told You
———
Finding Your Heart
Chapter 12: I Told You
Journal Entry: November 3rd
Back again with the barely sleeping, this is horrible. I keep wondering what Larissa will say when she finds out I’m going on a date tonight. I have to somehow make it through the day without spontaneously combusting from nerves. I keep wanting to text Larissa but I’m too scared.
Robby is keeping me updated on Scott, so far he’s still out with no sign of waking up. I’ve gone to sit with them every day so far and tonight will be the first time I miss it…I’m so worried about them both.
There’s a lot happening and not much to be done about explaining, I hate my life right now.
Signing off, TRH
Larissa was walking down the hall towards your classroom, she saw the door was open and stuck her head in,
“Good morning, Miss. Heart” she smiled
“Good morning, Principal Weems. Lovely to see you!” You smiled in return
She came further into the room and closed the door behind her, you felt yourself shift a little.
“I was wondering if you’d be willing to run detention tonight? It’s from 6-7 in the history room” she asked
“Oh..I uhm, I have a thing tonight at 6:30” you said awkwardly
It was very unlike you to turn down helping Larissa out, you were usually eager to help any way that you could. You could see her trying to process it.
“Is everything alright?” She asked
“What? Yeah! I just uhm, I have plans with…a friend” you tried to play it off coolly
“Tristen, I thought we discussed this.” She said sternly
“We certainly discussed some things but I don’t remember being told that I was not allowed to make my own choices.” You bit the inside of your lip
That response seemed to have caught her off guard, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other,
“Miss. Heart, you’re playing with fire that I don’t think you can handle.” She said
“Well I’ve never been burned before so I’ll take my chances.” You said
“Yes, well, have a good day then.” She turned to leave
“You as well, Larissa.” You said dryly
Once she was gone you laid your head on your desk. The cool wood felt good against the hot flush of your skin after that exchange.
The bell rang and students started coming into class, you quickly got up and turned on teaching mode. You welcomed them in one by one and started setting up for today which was Chalk! You went to the closet and got out the several cases that you have, mostly bright colors but a few darker ones.
Once the kids were seated and quiet you walked to the front,
“Good morning everyone! I trust we all had a good night last night and did our research, yes?” You smiled
Some nods and a couple of sighs told you what you needed to know.
“Alright, today’s lesson is over chalks, come up and get a container, just 1 per student, I have enough for every desk.”
Chairs screeched and several students came up at one time,
“Form a line, we all know how to do that” you joked
You handed each student a box of chalk and some paper, once everyone had theirs you went to the projector,
“Alright, everyone has their supplies, I’ve already gone ahead and drawn what I’d like you to do so if you turn your attention to the board you can see what I’m asking of you.” You pointed to the board
A seaside picture appeared, with a bright sky, boats, clouds, reflections and more.
“I have faith in all of you to be able to make this picture your own, good luck and if you need help I’ll be walking around.” You announced
You sat down to check your emails while they started and you saw one from Larissa.
From: Larissa Weems, Principal
To: Tristen Heart
Miss. Heart, your evaluation is coming up so I’d like to get it done today if possible. Do you have any free time?
You responded back,
From: Tristen Heart
To: Larissa Weems, Principal
I do have a free period today, I’m caught up on grading so we could do it then if that’s alright? It’s at 1pm just after lunch.
A hand raised near the back of the class so you hit send and closed your laptop. The boy who raised his hand was one of your most talented, his name is Rhys.
“Yes Rhys?” You knelt down next to him
“Miss, I can’t get this color to blend and it’s making me mad.” He was visibly frustrated and covered in chalk.
“Alright, let me show you a little trick I learned when I was your age” you said
You took a tissue out of your pocket and gently wiped it across the color, giving it a faded and blended look now. You saw relief cross his face that it was fixable and he nodded,
“Thank you, can I have a tissue?” He asked
You handed him a tissue and stood up ruffling his hair. An easy fix for an easy problem, you loved teaching them that mundane things could be used to make things beautiful.
You sat down at your desk and took a sip of your coffee, opening your laptop you saw that Larissa had responded.
From: Larissa Weems, Principal
To: Tristen Heart
That works for me, see you then.
You closed your eyes for a second and then regained composure. You were about to be alone with Larissa yet again.
The morning flew by, by the end of second period you had 30 new pictures to be graded and placed. You decided to stay in during lunch and get to work on some of them. You had brought a sandwich for lunch today anyway, it was easy.
You started grading and it was going smoothly until Robby texted you,
ROBSTER: Tris are you busy?
TRISTEN: Not at all, what’s up?
ROBSTER: The doctor came in and gave me some news.
TRISTEN: I’m listening
ROBSTER: The swelling is going down, there is brain activity but they don’t know what’s possible if he wakes up.
TRISTEN: Then we hope for the best and figure it out when it comes to it.
ROBSTER: Will you help me?
TRISTEN: Of course I will, you’re my best friend and I love Scott just as much as I love you.
ROBSTER: I love you
TRISTEN: I love you too
The ending bell rang and your stomach sank, it was time for you evaluation. Hopefully you pass.
You got up and put your cardigan on, locking your classroom door and heading towards the office. You past some students on their way to class, one of them being Enid.
“Oh my gosh! Miss. Heart! I love your cardigan!” She yelled across the hall
You waved,
“Thank you, Miss. Sinclair! It’s new” you wiggled your shoulders and laughed
That got her to laugh and bounce away, mission accomplished. That kid was walking sunshine and every interaction with her had always been positive.
You got to the office and knocked twice before opening the door,
“I’m here.” You said walking in
“Welcome, come have a seat.” Larissa said typing something
You took the seat across from her and put your hands in your lap, wringing your fingers. You leaned back and took a moment to breathe while Larissa finished what you assumed was an email.
“Alright” she said closing her laptop, “Let’s get this started.”
“Fantastic” you said nervously
“Are you nervous?” She asked looking over her glasses at you
“Me? Nervous? Always” you laughed
“Nothing to be nervous about, dear. It’s just the two of us and this paper” she said
“Just the two of us” you echoed
“Alright so, I’ve gone ahead and given you your marks for the last year. 1 being the lowest and 5 being the highest.” She slid the paper over to you
You read over each column and relief washed over you, your marks were all 4’s and 5’s. You tracked her notes with your finger and you could feel Larissa staring at you. You looked up and your eyes met.
“Thank you, this is high praise” you said
“I’m only being honest, you’re one of the finest teachers we have here at Nevermore.” She said
“I do my best for those kids” you said softly
“And it doesn’t go unnoticed.” She said
“So what does this mean?” You asked
“It means you pass, you’re safe to teach another year here, but we both already knew that didn’t we?” She asked cocking an eyebrow
“I was worried” you admitted
“Why?” She asked
“Because of everything that’s happened between us..I didn’t want it to effect anything” you carefully said
“Tristen, nothing that happens personally will ever affect how I see you professionally. I swear to that.” She said
You felt your shoulders relax and your jaw unclench when she said that, as much as it pained you to think that, it’s all you’ve thought about.
“Good to know, that is a relief” you said
She reached out to take the paper back and your fingers brushed,
“Tristen, we really should talk about this” she said
“Larissa there is nothing to talk about, I already agreed to the date” you said
Larissa stood up and walked around her desk, motioning for you to stand, you stood
“Tristen, this is a mistake.” She whispered
“What is?” You asked
She grabbed your jaw gently and kissed you.
Your eyes opened with a hiss, Larissa immediately got up to get you some water.
“Another vision?” She asked
“Mhm” you nodded and took the water
“Morticia said she could start meeting with you tomorrow after school.” She sat back down
“Perfect, I need all the help I can get apparently.” You sighed
“You’re dismissed, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiled
“Thank you” you said
As you turned to leave you made it to the door when she spoke again,
“If you need me, you have my number.” She said
“I know” you said without turning around.
By the end of the day your nerves were on fire, you didn’t entirely want to go tonight. Between the vision you had in Larissa’s office and the fact that Harper just wasn’t who you wanted you wanted to feign illness to get out of this.
You were putting your hair up when Harper texted you,
Harper O’Brien: I’m here
Tristen Heart: I’ll be right out.
You stopped by your mirror to give yourself a once over. You chose a cream sweater with florals along the neck line, for pants you chose your leather and paired it with heeled boots. You sprayed your vanilla perfume one last time before you walked out.
You saw Larissa and Morticia coming down the hallway, you smiled.
“Have a good night, Tristen” Larissa said not unkindly
“You as well” you said as you walked by
Once you past Larissa looked at Morticia,
“I have a feeling she’s going to call me tonight and I don’t know why” she said
“We tend to call that hope, dear” Morticia said
“It’s not that I hope something goes wrong-“
“I know that, you just hope because it’s Tristen.” Morticia smiled
They made it to Morticia’s quarters and went inside, the smell of death and jasmine overwhelmed immediately. Gomez had made tea and gotten the wine out already, it was all set for a girls night.
They took a seat at the small table and poured some wine,
“So, how did evaluations go today?” Morticia asked
Larissa took a sip of her wine and shook her head,
“I’m going to have to put a couple of them on probation, they just aren’t doing well.” She said
“That’s a shame, is one of them Margery?” She asked
“Heavens no, she’s wonderful as always. One of them is Selene though, her pass and fail rate isn’t the best.” Larissa winced
“Oh that will crush her, do you think there’s anything I can do?” She asked
“Not unless you can make her take her job seriously.” Larissa shook her head
You pulled up to the outside of the bowling alley and got out, it was starting to snow for the first time this year. Harper held the door for you on the way in,
“Thank you” you said
“You’re welcome, babe” she smirked
The pit in your stomach sank lower at the word, you tried to brush it off the best you could. You went in and got some shoes and a lane,
“Do you need help with your boots?” Harper asked
“I think I got it, thanks for the offer though” you smiled
“I’m going to go get us some drinks, you still like Pepsi?” She asked
You nodded and went to pick out your ball, she had her eyes on you the whole time and you felt a little creeped out. When she returned she set the drinks down and went to get a ball.
“Beauties first” she said
This wasn’t unlike Harper, she’d always been exceptionally doting and loving when you were together, it just felt wrong after all of this time.
You stepped up and bowled, you got a strike. You turned around clapping and smiling.
“Your form was a little off” she said
Red flag number 1.
She bowled and got a gutter, you groaned for her and when she turned she looked upset but didn’t say anything.
You bowled again, you got a spare, wanting to celebrate you smiled
“Why do you throw the ball like that?” She asked
Red flag number 2
By the time the game was over your entire mood had shifted, you weren’t having a good time. You picked up your phone and pulled up Larissa’s contact.
Tristen Heart: Larissa
Larissa Weems: Yes dear?
You didn’t respond again because Harper had seen you on your phone.
“What’s with the phone?” She asked a little annoyed
“Nothing, just checking on Robby” you said
“You’re still upset over that?” She scoffed
Your brows knit in confusion,
“Uhm, yeah. Scott is my friend, Harper.” You said defensively
“You need to focus on what’s in front of you” she said
“I’m sorry, you’re right” you said
“Good girl” she cooed
You fought the urge to gag at the pet name, that’s the last thing you wanted to hear. You decided that you’d be honest when you got outside.
Larissa kept watching her phone, you had read her message but not responded. Morticia was growing concerned and told Larissa to go, you may need her. Larissa left and went to her car, she quickly got in and got it warmed up. She knew you were at the bowling alley tonight so that’s exactly where she went.
By the time she pulled in it was 9:30 and she could see you through the windows handing your shoes back, she parked near the back of the parking lot and waited.
When you came out the discussion appeared heated, you didn’t look like you were having a good time at all.
“Harper I have to be honest, this isn’t going anywhere” you said
“What?” She asked
“I don’t have feelings for you, I have feelings for Larissa and I can’t start something with you if I’m hung up on someone else” you admitted
“So why did you agree to the date then?” She raised her voice
You winced
“Because I thought maybe I missed you, but after how you’ve acted tonight, I know now that this was a mistake.” You said
“A mistake?!” She yelled
“Yeah, I forgot how controlling you are and I can’t do that again. I’m sorry. I wasted your time.” You said
Harper stepped closer to you and you backed up a couple of steps, Larissa got out of her car and called your name. You looked over and saw her, you ran to her.
“Tristen, I’m here!” She called
“Larissa?” You said as you ran up to her
“You never answered me” she said
Without hesitation you jumped against her and wrapped your arms around her neck, you inhaled deeply. She wrapped her arms around you,
“I’m here” she whispered
“I’m sorry” you said, “this was a mistake”
“The only mistake made today was me not showing up sooner” she said
She set you down and you looked up at her, snow landing in her hair and around the collar of her coat,
