Chapter Summary: Reader helps Misha and his family prepare for the holidays.
Chapter Warnings: None. Maybe brief anxiety
TWENTY-EIGHT
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of trashy mid-day television, several short naps and more trips to the bathroom than you cared to count; the ceramic floor cool beneath your fevered skin.
By the end of the weekend, your symptoms had all but completely subsided, a mild headache the only reminder of how miserable you’d been over the last few days. Buried in the warmth of your deep blue fur-lined parka, the bite of the early morning chill went un-noticed as you walked hand-in-hand with Misha to his car.
So lost in your own mind, you barely noticed when he pulled into the driveway – the smooth electric engine so quiet that Misha removing his seat-belt was the first thing you noticed.
The entire day Saturday, while you’d been confined to bed, the multitude of tweets and other notifications you’d been tagged in were impossible to miss and since then, the tiny seed of doubt that lived in your chest had begun to flourish. As a fan yourself, seeing through the mean comments to the worry and concern beneath the awful words wasn’t difficult. Misha was adored by people around the world, news spread like wildfire on the internet and often innocent actions were blown out of proportion by those who were either genuinely concerned or who just liked to stir up trouble. The pictures surfacing from San Francisco seemed to be some mix of both.
“You okay?” Misha’s fingers, laced through your own, tightened while those impossibly multi-dimensional eyes stared down at you, worry etched into the creases of his expression.
The pain evident in his features was like a vice around your chest, and, as pinpricks of moisture gathered at the corners of your eyes, you wanted nothing more than to erase that hurt, whatever it took.
“Of course! Mish, don’t look at me like that – I’m okay, I promise. Just thinking about this weekend is all.”
A soft smile of encouragement replaced your own concern as you leaned up on your tip-toes and wrapped your arms around his waist. Pressing lips lightly to his cheek before burying your face in his chest, the warmth of his body mingled with the calming scent of his cologne and immediately you could feel the tension start to dissipate – just like it always did.
The moment of quiet was short-lived as the front door was pulled open and both Maison and West came spilling down the steps, Vicki chasing after them with their jackets, which neither child appeared to care for.
“Daddy!” “[Y/F/N]!” Four arms wove themselves through both your and Misha’s legs, the children’s exuberance nearly knocking you off balance.
Looking up from the tangle of limbs, you smiled warmly at Vicki. The woman had lowered herself to the steps of the porch. Leaning against one of the thick stone columns, she held a camera in one hand and a tired expression on her face. Gently prying Maison’s left arm from its spot still around your thigh, you approached the front steps, leaning over to hug Vicki as well. This kind of welcome home was still a foreign concept for you, but slowly you were beginning to enjoy the feelings associated with being around Misha and his family.
*****
Over the course of the subsequent days, preparations for the holidays started to become the focus of your daily schedule.
The weekend after returning from California found you crouched in the attic of Misha’s house, sorting through bins filled with lights, wreaths and shiny baubles. Misha’s voice echoed up through the opening across the room, letting you know he was ready for another load. Vicki pointed to a shallow box on your left, indicating that was the next to go. The three of you had managed to work out an assembly-line of sorts and soon the three of you were all gathered in the living room, the decorations neatly stacked atop the sideboard flanking the fireplace. The very same one that had held your contract all those months ago. While it often felt like you’d never been without Misha, you were suddenly reminded that it had been a mere few months since he and his family had welcomed you into their lives and into their home.
“We seem to be missing something…” Misha tilted his head and stared at the blank space stretching before the large bay windows.
“I just…can’t put my finger on it.” Tapping his bottom lip, his clear sapphire eyes turned to Maison and West. “What do you guys think, are we missing something?”
“Daaaaaa-deee, we need a kwis-mas twee.” Maison stared up at her father, a bright smile spreading across her face as she laughed at his question. Putting all of her weight into the effort, the little girl planted her hands at the small of his back, trying her hardest to push him towards the front door.
Coming up behind her husband, Vicki planted a knit sock-monkey hat atop Misha’s head, the bright blue and cream features of GISH’s mascot sliding down over his eyes. Shrugging into a black parka, Misha laughed at his wife’s antics; West stomping around the entryway in his oversized snow boots, the zipper of his own jacket jingling with each step.
For just a moment, you stood there – watching the dynamics of this family play out before you. They were so very typical, almost down to the white picket-fence. And yet, at the same time they were all so incredibly different in the best way possible.
Three hours later, snow danced around your feet as gusts of wind disturbed the pristine, glittering powder. After searching for what seemed like hours for the best tree, West had stumbled upon a giant he deemed ‘the one.’ It was breath-taking really, the boughs heavy with emerald needles; two rich, deep mahogany pine-cones still clinging to one branch. The boy, buried to his knees in the drifts surrounding the magnificent fir, was beaming with pride as Misha knelt to assess how best to bring the ten-foot tree home.
*****
Flames licked at the edges of the logs piled neatly in the living-room fireplace; the warmth of it filling the room with comfort as you hung four stockings from the mantle. Across the room, Maison and West sat at a small table, shaking crumpled paper sacks with unimaginable glee. When asked what they should do with the pine-cones they’d removed from the tree, the kids had decided they wanted to make bird feeders (so the small birds wouldn’t go hungry in the cold winter weather.) Watching as they each opened their bag, both children were very excited to see that spreading seed on a peanut-butter covered pine-cone yielded new treats for the sparrows who hadn’t flown south.
“[Y/F/N]! Look at what we made!” A trail of multicolored seeds following in his wake, West lifted his prize up to where you could see it better, blowing a few long strands of sandy hair away from his eyes.
“Ooh, those are great, I bet the birds will really appreciate you looking out for them by making this treat. Why don’t we go outside and hang them up?”
Faces glued to the large living-room windows, both children were seated, legs crossed, with mugs of hot cocoa on the thick bench seat overlooking the front yard. Several small birds flitted between the safety of the eaves and the veritable buffet hanging before them.
Vicki and Misha were positioned on either side of the great tree, taking turns stringing lights through the branches; boxes of ornaments scattered at their feet. Jason’s Christmas album playing on low in the background added to the memorable day, and as you gathered the links of garland made from popcorn and cranberries, you realized just how excited you were for the holidays - something that had been missing in you for more years than you cared to count.
The rest of the afternoon passed in much the same way, and, by early evening the house looked like something out of a Hallmark movie. Rather than being kitschy and overdone however, it felt homey and welcoming. With thoughts of the holidays however, also came thoughts of gift-giving. The simple bliss you’d felt much of the day started to ebb away, replacing itself with anxiety – what could you possibly give Misha and Vicki that they didn’t already possess? In the short time you’d spent with this family, it had become quite clear that they were both incredibly talented, giving and creative people. Somehow a new blender just didn’t fit the situation. Nor did you feel like you could just walk into the nearby mall and miraculously find the perfect thing. The more you thought about it, the stronger and more intense your worry became. Idea after idea would drift through your mind, only to be stricken from consideration almost immediately. So consumed were you with the problem; eyes staring blankly into the flames dancing in the hearth, that only after being called several times did you realize you were being spoken to.
“What’re you thinking about?” Lowering himself to the plush carpet, Misha turned, a lopsided grin spreading across his stubble-blanketed features. Scooching to sit behind you, the arms he loosely draped around your waist tightened until your back was pressed hard to his chest, breath warm against your ear.
“Well, I was thinking about what I should - …. you know? It doesn’t matter, because now I’m thinking about something very different. Twisting to face him, your lips hovered a breath from his – eyes locked.
“I should go help with dinner, and I do have to go home tonight – so this little game you’re playing… definitely isn’t going to work. Good try…Mr. Collins.”
With a quick press of your lips to his cheek, you rose from the floor, sauntering off in search of Vicki and the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen.
A/N: Here's chapter 12 to the collaboration @natasha-cole and I are writing - enjoy!
With a reassuring pat on your shoulder, Kim smiled before pulling open the door to the ladies’ room. Bri, ever the optimist, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and walked out with you. Bidding you good-night and good luck, the two of them sauntered back over to the decidedly smaller group of people they’d been sitting with earlier.
Wandering back over to the couch with the conversation you’d just had with the girls still fresh in your mind, you began to gather your things, fully intent on heading back to your room.
Rob’s tired smile greeted you from where he still sat on the couch. Lifting himself from the cushions, he raised his arms, stretching while trying to stifle a yawn.
Realizing your own exhaustion, you glanced at the phone in your hand to see how late it was. The screen read three-forty-five. How you’d managed to stay awake this long, you weren’t sure. Though it may have had something to do with the company you’d kept and the conversations you’d had in the several hours that had passed since you’d followed Kim up from the green room.
“I don’t know how you guys do this every weekend.” Smiling at the man in front of you when he reached for your hand, the question in your eyes was undeniable as his warm fingers laced themselves through yours.
“You get used to it, or rather, some of us do. We see each other a lot, but Saturday nights – everyone is so hyped up after the concert that we couldn’t sleep right away if we tried.”
Nodding your understanding as the two of you made your way to the door, you let his answer sink in. He must have mistook your silence for discomfort however, and as his thumb smoothed over your knuckles, you were brought back to the present.
“You okay?” Concern mingled with the fatigue on his face, and you smiled. The idea that someone could read you well enough to tell the difference between your being tired and upset was a new idea for you. For a moment, you considered just talking to him right then. The halls were quiet as he walked you back towards your room, but the thought was brief. You knew you’d rather be completely present for the conversation you’d be having with both him and Chris. Squeezing his hand, you nodded.
“Just tired. I don’t think I’ve been up this late in ten years.” “I’m actually debating whether it’s even worth it to sleep at this point.”
Rubbing your free hand across your face, the small movement seemed to bring with it the full weight of your exhaustion.
“Trust me, you’re going to want to sleep as much as you can. Don’t wanna show up for work in the morning and not be at the top of your game. It’s J2 day after all.”
Nudging your shoulder as the two of you approached your door, Rob stopped short, pulling you around and into a sweet hug. The steady beating in his chest threatening to make you fall asleep standing right where you were. Pressing his lips to your forehead, he smiled sleepily.
“Get some sleep, [Y/F/N] – I’ll see you tomorrow. Or…rather, later today.”
Nodding to yourself, but finding it difficult to move away from his embrace, you finally sighed and unlocked your door. With a final glance, Rob said goodbye and turned to walk back down the hallway.
Having zero energy to change into different clothes, you fell face-first into the mediocre hotel bed, asleep before you could even think about anything that had transpired tonight.
****
A frenzied knocking at the door pulled you from a deep sleep. Squinting against the early morning sun streaming through the window, you hoped the noise had been part of your dream. Closing your eyes to try and recapture it proved futile as the insistent interruption sounded again.
If only you'd given whoever stood on the other side of that door a spare key, you wouldn't have to get out of bed.
Wishful thinking on your part.
The next round of knocking came with the muffled sound of your name. Not wanting to disturb the people who were likely trying to sleep in on the final day of their weekend, you begrudgingly extracted yourself from the nest of blankets and crossed the room to the door. Pulling it open amidst yet another flurry of knocking, you were surprised to see Kim and Briana standing on the other side.
Craning their heads to look over your shoulder, Briana brushed past you into the room while Kim started immediately with rapid fire questions.
"Good morning, Sunshine!" "How ya feeling?"
"We brought coffee, and not that gross hotel sludge they so generously offer for free, but the real stuff. The good stuff."
"You like coffee right?"
Nodding with a barely disguised grumble of affirmation, you could only smile as the women both grimaced good-naturedly.
"Yikes, rough night?"
"...you're uh, you're not hiding anyone under the bed or in the closet are you?"
The last teasing remark was the first thing Briana had said to you, and honestly, the first thing that even remotely registered as a question needing answered.
Standing to one side so Kim could squeeze past, you turned, still wrapped in the duvet as the door clicked shut behind you.
"Definitely not."
Sipping at the bold flavors of the latte Kim had given you, the surprised glance shared between the other two women went unnoticed.
"Well, uh, have you talked to them yet?"
Glancing at Briana, her gaze was still on Kim even though she had spoken to you.
Turning your attention to the other woman, your eyes narrowed upon noticing the poorly concealed consternation Kim wore on her face.
"No….why?” Setting the coffee on the bedside table, attention now fully on the girls, you crossed your arms under your chest, alternating your attention between them, hoping one of them was about to start talking.
"Uh, well, funny you should ask...but uh...we..erm.."
Briana was stalling, shooting furtive glances to her friend, silently asking for help.
"We can't find Chris. We thought maybe…"
Waffling her hands in the air, her very pointed expression made it clear why they were at your room at nine am.
Choking on a sip of the coffee you'd picked back up, you took a moment to wipe the back of a hand across your chin.
"And..what, you thought he'd be here?!"
Scrunching up her face, Kim shrugged before nodding vigorously.
"I'm not sure whether to be offended or flattered." A snort of laughter followed the statement, but you weren't really upset.
"I mean, I guess I can understand why you guys would think to come here but I haven't seen Chris since last night."
"Rob walked me back to my room and then I crashed. As you can see, I didn't even change."
Skirting the bed to pick up your phone from the dresser, you flicked open the screen. There were no messages or missed calls.
"I'll shoot him a text and--"
"We've all done that. Went to his room too." Briana said the words softly, as if she wasn't sure how you'd take the news.
"Yeah, but maybe Chris will answer [Y/F/N]. Couldn't hurt anyways." Kim pointed out.
"I mean...it is still really early. Hell, I've only slept five hours myself. Are you guys sure he's not just passed out in his room?"
Typing out a quick good morning text, asking Chris if he wanted to meet for lunch, you set the phone back down on the dresser.
"Chris is always the first one up. Dude is awake before the birds, regardless of how late he stayed out the night before." Kim went on to explain that nobody had heard from him since he'd left the party last night.
"I'm sure he's fine. Really...he's a big boy, he can take care of himself."
"The convention doesn't start for another few hours, right? I bet he'll be back before the first set of photo ops. He's probably just getting breakfast or something."
****
Following the girls downstairs after you'd taken the time to shower and brush your teeth - which went a remarkably long way towards feeling like a functioning human again - the vendors room caught your eye.
"I'll catch up later guys, I'm gonna check this out."
Ducking into the adjacent hallway, several tables were spread across the space. Arranged amongst the typical t-shirt vendors, artists sold everything from paintings to jewelry to custom figurines.
Selecting a tote bag and several CD's from the Louden Swain merchandise table, you were paying for your selections when a familiar voice caught your attention.
"Yeah, that's her."
"I don't know, but he's been really different this weekend. It's like he doesn't even see us now that she's around."
The conversation was all hushed tones and urgent whispers, and it was clear that whoever the woman was talking to was trying, unsuccessfully, to keep her voice down.
You weren't typically one to eavesdrop on others discussions but it was pretty clear you were part of it. Plus, they were talking about Chris. Maybe they knew where he was.
Before you had a chance to ask them, the two women walked away, leaving you to wonder what they were talking about.
"Don't pay them any mind, unfortunately, gossip spreads like wildfire around here and since you're the new girl, you're the hot topic of the weekend."
Sitting diagonally from where you stood, a girl smiled at you from behind her booth. Approaching her table, you took note of the stylized art of the guests, lined up next to a large, incredibly detailed portrait of Rob.
"Wow, this is really amazing."
Bending over to study the color palette she'd chosen to use, you'd intended to take her observation with a grain of salt. She, however didn't appear to be finished.
"You seem cool enough though. You're pretty talented with that camera of yours. Chris talks about you often."
There was no hint of jealousy or mockery in her words, and her neutral expression seemed friendly enough.
"You guys are friends?" "Have you seen him today?"
The woman shrugged nonchalantly.
"I suppose? He and I have been at the same conventions for several years, and we take great delight in annoying each other - but aside from that?"
Bending over her notebook, she went back to working on her drawing.
Taking note of the fact that she hadn't really answered either of your questions, you were just about to look through her portfolio when your phone rang.
"Hey, did you guys find him?" "Oh...really? And what time does it start? Damnit. Ok, I'll be there in a sec."
Dropping the device back into your pocket, you said a hurried goodbye and made a beeline for the door.
It was nearing eleven o'clock, when a line of people would be waiting for their photo ops with Jensen. Hurrying to the room, when you arrived and the space was silent, concern really started to set in.
Chris had never missed a Creation event since he'd started. Well over a hundred events and he'd always shown up. You could only hope today wouldn't change that.
Approximately fifty people were already milling about outside of the quiet space, volunteers trying to herd them back into the auditorium.
"Guys, please return to the theater - we'll be calling Jensen's photo ops in groups of fifty to a hundred at a time."
"Chris hasn't even set up for the day please go back to your seats."
You made a mental note to thank the volunteers at some point today, they really were the backbone of these conventions.
Slipping through the door, you were quick to flip the light switches. The silence and the dark were too much together when you'd only ever seen the room brightly lit and loud.
Figuring the least you could do was start setting up, you made the rounds, checking that lights were connected, the printers were turned on and the marks on the floor didn't need refreshing. Chris's equipment wasn't in the room, but then you hadn't really expected him to leave it overnight.
Checking your phone once more, it was still devoid of any notifications. Navigating to your own playlists, you hit start and docked it in the cradle sitting on the table. It wasn't his music, but it made the wait infinitely less awkward.
When the door opened, you glanced up, heart beating wildly in your chest. Hoping…
"Hey, uh, we've got the first fifty people lined up out here. Should I let the handlers know to bring Jensen in?"
Chris's assistant searched your face for answers. Problem was, you had no idea how to do this alone. Right now, it looked as if your choice was being made for you however, as you couldn't realistically ask them to wait any longer than they already had.
A/N: That writers block tho! Seriously, it’s good to be back.
TWO
The following morning, as you pulled open the front doors of a very large, very sterile-looking office building set into the heart of downtown, you were glad you'd agreed to only one movie. Black, strappy heels clicked against reflective slate tiles beneath your feet; portfolios held securely beneath one arm.
"Right this way, Ms. [Y/F/N]." "Can I get you anything to drink?"
The receptionist was a bright, young intern. Bold, coppery hair fell nearly to his shoulders, his striking blue eyes lit with an eager kind of excitement as he showed you to the conference room.
"If you've got any tea, I'd love some."
Smiling as the man nodded and bustled away, you took a moment to glance around your surroundings. As conference rooms went, it was fairly ordinary - a long, glass-topped table was set in the middle of the space, surrounded by about twenty leather office chairs. One wall was constructed entirely of crystal clear glass, though the only view was more of the same tall, lifeless buildings.
Turning as the door shushed open behind you, a woman approached, a grand smile on her face; one hand extended in your direction.
"Ms. [Y/F/N], it's so good to finally meet you. My husband and I have heard good things."
The woman's grip was firm, confident, and immediately you got the inclination she was going to be the one you'd need to impress.
The man from earlier had returned, a selection of teas, creams and sugar arrayed on a dark serving tray.
"Thank you Dylan, that will be all."
Glancing to the woman whose hand you still held after smiling in appreciation at Dylan, you wondered if this woman was as dismissive with everyone else as she appeared to be with him. His own smile faltered, quickly replaced with a wary expression of disinterest as he turned and left the two of you alone.
The next two hours were spent presenting your work to the owners of Caliber Entertainment.
By the time you'd been shown to the door by Dylan, you were exhausted. While confident in your abilities and your work, your struggle had always been selling yourself.
Regardless, you were happy to be out of there. While meetings like those were a necessary evil, you really wanted nothing more than to go home, take off these damned heels and relax.
Pulling your phone from the pocket of your blazer, you typed in the lock-screen password and found several messages waiting.
[Rob]: Hey, finished at the studio a little early today. How was your meeting?
[Rob]: Thought I might stop by the store, pick up a couple steaks...you hungry?
The rumbling of your stomach as you read the words was answer enough.
Noticing the last text had come through only a few minutes prior, you hurried to type out a response.
[Y/F/N]: Starving. I didn't know you could cook.
Almost immediately, the device in your hand chirped with an answer.
Rob: One of many things, I'm sure. Movie at my place tonight? Should be home in twenty.
Trying to remember if you'd ever actually been inside his house, it took only a moment to realize you hadn't.
Sending off a message to let him know you'd bring the beer before dropping the phone on the passenger seat of your car, you couldn't help but be excited at the prospect of spending another evening with Rob.
Pulling into your driveway a short time later, you were surprised to see him sitting on the front porch. The ridiculous grin that spread across your face was hard to hide, so you decided not to bother.
"Well look at you, all dressed up...heels and everything eh?" His teasing tone matched the mirth in his expression.
"Don't get used to it." The phrase was clipped, but accompanied by your smile, still firmly in place.
Reaching out to grip his arm while you kicked off the footwear, the blazer quickly joined the abandoned semblance of professionalism.
Crouching to pick up both items, you proceeded through the front door, calling out an invitation for Rob to follow.
"Let me just change real fast, no way am I doing movie night in jeans."
Nodding, Rob headed for the kitchen "I'll grab the beer."
Disappearing down the hallway to your room, the closet stretching along the north wall held more clothes than you knew what to do with. Unfastening the buttons of the dark-washed denim clinging to your thighs, you reached a steadying hand out to balance against the dresser as you peeled them from your body, abandoning them in the wicker hamper set in a corner.
"Hey, [Y/F/N] - have you got any pepper? I think I'm out."
Nodding to yourself, you quickly realized that he couldn't hear you. Grabbing a pair of cutoffs, you turned, stepping into the bottoms and pulling them up as Rob paused in your doorway.
Peeling the flowy chiffon fabric of your business shirt off over your head, you answered his question without missing a beat; completely unfazed at your state of undress.
"Yeah, I think so - one sec."
Pulling open the second drawer of your dresser and selecting a solid-white tank top, you pulled it over your head while heading for the door.
Walking past the man into the hallway with the shirt still covering your head, you missed the flustered look on his face.
Closing his eyes, the back of his head fell against the doorjamb. The initial attraction he'd felt towards his neighbor had started to blossom a few months prior, but he'd never said anything to her about it. He liked the way things were between them, but her obvious nonchalance for being half-naked around him was going to change that.
Pushing a breath between his pursed lips, he stepped away from the wall, scrubbing a hand over his face as he joined [Y/F/N] back in the kitchen.
"Here's that pepper you needed." "Ready to go?"
Dropping the pepper mill into his outstretched hand, you made for the front door, flipping light switches as you went.
Following you from the house, Rob pulled the door shut behind him, watching with a small smile as you skipped barefoot down the sidewalk.
The sun-kissed warmth of his deck seeped into the bottom of your feet; the smell of the grill wrapping you in the savory flavors of summer.
Twisting the caps off of two amber bottles pulled from the cooler, you handed one across to Rob. Closing the lid on a large stainless steel grill, the man turned, accepting the drink with gratitude.
"So, how was your day?" Flopping down on one of the adirondak chairs situated around the wrought-iron grate of his fire pit, Rob turned his eyes up to yours, the light blue-grey hue fixed in place. Raising the bottle to his lips, he took a long swallow, awaiting your answer.
"As good as can be expected I suppose. I despise having to suck up to rich assholes though."
After a pause, you laughed.
"No offense." Tilting your bottle towards him in apology, the lopsided grin on your face made him chuckle.
"None taken." "Hey, how do you like your steak?"
Rob stood from his seat, wandering over to check the grill.
"Medium rare, please."
Shielding your eyes from the late-afternoon sun, you peered out across the expanse of chillingly still water, ripples of light dancing across the surface of his pool.
"So...do you ever actually use your pool or is it just for sheer decorative purposes?"
"Oh, uh, well..no real point when you live alone right? Sometimes I swim laps I guess."
Shrugging nonchalantly, Rob turned back to the grill, transferring the food onto a serving platter.
"Can I help with anything?" Placing a hand against his back, you peered over one shoulder.
"That looks amazing, I could eat a goat right now."
Rob chuckled again. Pointing towards his kitchen, the tongs still in one hand, he shook his head.
"Could you grab the salad please?"
Over dinner, which was even better than it had smelled, the conversation revolved around work and the increasingly fleeting amount of free time both of you found yourselves with.
It took you longer than you cared to admit to notice towards the end of the meal that Rob was acting a bit strangely. Pushing what was left of his food around the edges of the plate and offering little in the way of conversation or eye-contact when he did speak, the sudden shift in his behavior concerned you.
When he began to stutter and it took visible effort for him to form complete sentences, you reached across the table, tentatively covering his hand with your own. The touch startled him enough that you nearly pulled back.
"Hey man, you okay?"
While the question remained friendly and open-ended, the idea that he might not want to share what he was thinking only occurred to you after the fact.
“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” The smile he offered was anything but convincing; wilting quickly, it didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. Rather than push the issue however, you reflected that same uneasy smile, drawing your hand back and rubbing the suddenly clammy skin against your bare thigh.
"Ready for movie number two?" Standing suddenly, Rob reached forward, grabbing your empty plate before hurrying inside.
A seed of doubt wedged itself in your chest, tendrils of unease taking root when your brain began to throw every possible scenario around as to why his behavior had so suddenly changed.
Slow to follow, by the time you'd walked back through the patio doors and crossed the house, Rob was kneeling in front of the entertainment center, elbow deep in Lily's toy box, muttering under his breath about something.
In one fluid movement, he stood, clutching the remote he'd apparently been searching for in one hand.
Perching on the edge of the sofa, eyes shifting between Rob and the screen in front of you, the worry that flitted around your consciousness continuing to grow. Where earlier in the afternoon, he’d been all smiles and carefree laughter - his rigid posture and the awkward silence blanketing the room in a thick fog allowed only one valid conclusion to form in your mind: Rob was angry, and somehow, somewhere - you’d messed up.
Tickets for our Jan 18th show in #Austin @thenorthdoor go on sale this Tuesday 9/17 at https://bit.ly/2lN0lea! Link will be in bio.
https://www.instagram.com/p/B2XNX25ho4i/?igshid=ywrhtur7ljej
Tickets for our Jan 18th show in #Austin @thenorthdoor go on sale this Tuesday 9/17 at https://bit.ly/2lN0lea! Link will be in bio.
https://www.instagram.com/p/B2XNX25ho4i/?igshid=ywrhtur7ljej
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The first remastered version of the original Delane fic is going up tomorrow! Tons of free goodies thrown in, as well! More to come in the next five months (releasing them in the order they were written…) If you’ve missed them, here they are, all newly edited, bright and shiny, and with bonus content!
And here’s to, lovelies. Thank you so much for the continued support! @laffytaffyhumor @waywardswain @itsfunnierin-enochian @kocswain @alleyneko2000 @mellister @chocolategate @natasha-cole
Vancouver was good to me this week. Spent time with amazing friends, was murdered and brought back to life by my favorite boys, and had a wonderful time in a beautiful city <3
CHAPTER SUMMARY: The party proves to be too much for Chris to handle. Rob continues to let his affections for Reader show, and Reader is already struggling with her own internal dilemma. Kim and Briana help to ease her mind a bit, at least until she realizes that she has to talk to the guys about what she is considering doing.
CHAPTER WARNINGS: innocent kisses, jealous Chris, very mild angst
A/N: Part 11 of my series written with @wildefiction
ELEVEN
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Chris saw the way Rob leaned into her. The way he placed that soft kiss to her face, and the way she looked at him when she realized it was him. She had reserved that specific look for Rob only and the thought of it made Chris far more jealous than he would ever care to admit to being.
He side-eyed the two of them, fully aware that Rob had definitely piqued Y/N’s interest and he began to berate himself over the fact that he couldn’t even verbalize to her what she meant to him.
Chapter Summary: Reader is still feeling awful about breaking up with Rob. She’s also feeling crazy for suspecting an innocent fan of being the one who is following her. A gift that was left for her ends up not being from Rob, and things are only getting creepier.
Word Count: 2386
Warnings: angst, creepy fan
Notes: I’m trying guys! I’m hoping to update my part of Focus and the next chapter of Perfectly Imperfect soon as well. Writing is not my friend lately.
Series Masterlist
You were sitting in the green room, taking a much needed break from the morning activities. Mainly, you were staring blankly at your phone as yet another restricted phone call popped up on your screen. This had been the fifth one this morning. Your thumb hovered over the ‘end call’ button, wanting to just ignore it, but also strangely curious as to who was calling.
“When are you going to change your phone number?” A voice asked suddenly, breaking you from your daze.
Series Summary: Reader moves to LA to pursue her dreams and finds a best friend in her new neighbor.
Chapter Warnings: Heart-break, Drinking
ONE
"I..I can't do this anymore Rob."
The heavy sigh on the other end of the line was laced with exhaustion, but not the type that would be fixed with a restful night. This was the type of exhaustion that resulted from one too many missed dinners and far too little time spent actually being with each other.
Distracted as he was, the man stilled, ice pouring through his body, the chill of her words ran deep.
"Wh-what do you m-mean?" "Jenna?!"
Rob's grip on his cellphone tightened, his fingers dappled in white, as if he could hold on to the woman he loved simply by force.
"Goodbye, Rob."
-Bee-doo-
The silence deafening as he pulled the device from his ear, Rob's expression of shock quickly shifted to horror and then dismay as he realized what had just happened.
An hour had passed by the time he ran up the stairs to his front door, hastily shoving the key into the lock after dropping them twice. Pushing the front door open, the harsh sound of the wood bouncing off the wall echoed through the entry. He barely noticed. Striding through the house, he stopped short upon reaching the dining room.
Four tapered candles sat in crystal holders, the tip of each wick frayed and singed with obsidian. Perfect white plates resting atop ruby chargers, matching linen napkins were artfully arranged with the good silver.
In the center of the table, a half bottle of wine sat open, the cork abandoned next to the single wine glass; one drink remaining at the bottom.
Approaching the table, Rob reached out, fingers trembling as he picked up a single sheet of paper, his name scrawled on the front in her looping penmanship.
Opening the note, only two words met his blurred vision:
'I'm sorry'
Frantic, he turned the paper over, hoping for something more. In his haste, he'd neglected to notice the brass key that had dropped from it. Picking it up, he recognized it as the one he'd given her to his house a few months prior.
Having landed next to a medium-sized box, Rob's focus slid to the bright blue paper, a black satin bow tied to the top.
For the second time that evening, a sense of dread overcame the man. With shaking hands, he dropped the paper and picked up the gift.
Pulling on one end of the ribbon, the satin fell from the box as Rob worked to remove the paper.
A sleek black frame surrounded the scroll of paper the cardiologist had printed for him that illustrated his heart-rate. Months of hard work and speech therapy had paid off, and, during his last check-up, the doctor had declared he was healthy, no longer needing regular visits to track his recovery.
A second sheet of paper had been included with the gift, this one just a small note:
'Later we'll put that ticker to the test ;)'
'Xoxo'
The tears fell then, staining his cheeks as he realized that this time, there was no amount of pleading that would get her to forgive him.
He'd forgotten their anniversary.
****
"Dude. You didn't…"
[Y/F/N] was seated on the couch with her feet folded beneath her, a beer held in one hand while she stared at her friend.
Scoffing, Rob lifted his own bottle to his lips, taking a long swallow of the IPA.
"Yeah, I uh, guess I'm good at fuckin' shit up."
"Hey man, we've all been screw-ups at least once in our lives."
With a gentle squeeze of his denim-covered knee, you rose from the couch, watching as he averted his eyes, nervous fingers picking at the black label encircling his drink.
"Want another one?"
Not bothering to look up, the man nodded, a faint smile on his lips.
Walking into the kitchen, you thought back to the day you'd been relaxing on your deck with a new novel, glancing up to see the woman storming out of the house next door, a distraught Rob trailing after her. You remembered how he watched, helpless, as she had climbed into her rather expensive white Bentley and driven away without so much as a glance in the rearview mirror.
That had been just shy of two years ago, and while the two of you had always been friendly, until recently, conversations had consisted solely of talk about the weather and your respective careers.
After a particularly shitty day about six months prior, you'd invited him over for a beer and now get-togethers like these had become increasingly more common.
Pulling your air-popper from the pantry, you emptied what remained of a Costco-sized container of popcorn kernels into the machine. Hitting the power, you moved to the refrigerator, pulling a stick of butter from the door as the steady hum of the motor whirred behind you.
Rob loved popcorn. It always made him smile, and although his heart had been broken so long ago, sometimes you felt like it had been just yesterday.
Bending down to retrieve a large ceramic bowl from beneath the counter, your thoughts turned protective when you remembered the pain that had been etched into his features that day.
Of course, you knew how Rob could be. How musicians and actors.. and...how artists could be when it came to their work. It's why, as much as you felt for the man, you weren't surprised when he'd finished recounting the full events of how she'd walked out of his life.
You weren't surprised because you'd had that exact thing happen to you.
Dumping the excessive amount of popcorn into the red and white striped bowl, you drizzled the butter you'd melted over the heaping pile and finished the snack by sprinkling coarse sea salt and sugar into the mix.
Turning and flipping off the light, you pulled open the door to the fridge, grabbing two bottles from the top shelf, the bright light casting a soft glow over the counters behind you. Using a hip to close the door and wrapping your free arm around the hefty bowl of popcorn, you sauntered back into the living room, taking a moment to snatch a few pieces with your mouth from the top of the pile.
"Here, brought you a snack."
*****
Rob glanced up as [Y/F/N] re-entered the room juggling a sizable bowl of popcorn and the second beer she'd offered. He smiled to himself at her gesture; she was always looking out for him. Although he was more apt to keep to himself, he realized then that he'd grown to really enjoy her company.
"You know me too well [Y/F/N.]"
Chuckling, his eyes lit up at the sight when she flopped next to him on the couch, depositing the bowl into his lap before turning and grabbing the remote. Settling in, she slumped back against the plush cushions before lifting her feet to rest on the table. Clicking the power button, [Y/F/N] navigated through the Netflix menu in search of something to watch.
"Hmm, Lord of the Rings marathon or Harry Potter marathon?"
The question was so nonchalantly asked, that you were surprised when Rob laughed.
"If you want me to come over more often, you just hafta say so."
Nudging your shoulder with his, you blushed against the darkness, thankful he couldn't see you, but internally embarrassed at having him call you out so immediately.
Still, he answered, as if he really didn't mind spending his Friday nights on your couch.
"I've seen all the Tolkein movies, and I can't wait for the next one. Let's do Harry Potter, everyone keeps asking me what house I'm in and it'd be nice to have an actual answer next time instead of just bs-ing my way through the question."
With his mouth full of popcorn, you'd only been able to make out every fourth word or so, but regardless, you started the first movie, the tell-tale notes of Hedwig's theme filling the space around you.
Two hours passed in a blur of questions and enraptured silence alike, Rob taking great joy in the discovery of how much he enjoyed the start of the saga.
"Wanna watch one more?"
Raising his brows, the man turned to you, his eyes shifting between your face and the remote you'd picked up off the arm of the couch.
Glancing at the time on the bottom corner of the screen, you noted that it was almost midnight.
The confliction in your expression was obvious. You were having a great time, but this was a huge gig. One you'd been trying to land for months. They'd finally taken the plunge just last week. Yet for some reason, your mind warred with you, the details trying to lock themselves in place while you mentally juggled the options.
"It's okay if you don't want to, we can always do a different day. Not like I'm going anywhere."
His soft smile had you nodding. That really was the more logical, adult thing to do. With an annoyed groan, you stood from the couch.
Rob followed suit, stretching his arms overhead as he yawned. Your eyes flicked to the small strip of exposed flesh between his t-shirt and jeans, lingering a little longer than was probably necessary.
Leaning against the door as you held it open for him, you were already looking forward to the following afternoon as he descended the steps of your porch, spinning around to wave once more before crossing the street to his own house.
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