Scar: What Did I Do?

Scar: What Did I Do?

Imagine being Scar's daughter, and Mufasa hates you:

— Lil warning: Mufasa is an ass, violence —

I was born several months before my cousin Simba, a small cub that most thought wouldn't survive; I never got to know my mother as she died during my birth. I apparently look just like her, my fur is a light grey, almost like the foggy mist that gathers in the morning before sunrise, and my eyes are a warm amber.

I am currently 5 months old, the lionesses and lions still towering over me. Luckily I have other abilities, such as how good of a hunter I've become, and the fact that I am one of the fastest runners pride.

———————

"DAD! DAD!" My roared pleadings seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

I' m currently being chased out of Pride Rock by my uncle, Mufasa. I can practically feel his anger, large paws pounding against the ground as growls continuously emit throughout the air.

(I'm not sure why, but he's hated me for as long as I can remember. He never lets me play with the other cubs, and he makes sure the lionesses ignore me. I'm not sure why he's so cruel to me, I don't think I've ever done anything to offend him.)

My body tiring quickly, I've been running for a while — and though I may be fast, I really need to work on my stamina.

I'm about to call for my father again when a sharp pain is felt in my right hind leg, I yelp loudly, tripping over my feet and tumbling to the ground. I curl into myself, afraid of what will happen to me. I suddenly hear a growl thundering around me, but this growl doesn't sound like my uncle.

I sense movement, two lions are fighting, snarls and swipes being exchanged. I slowly uncover my face, eyes cautiously opening. I immediately see Mufasa, his large stature stiff and puffed out, he still looks furious; the other lion being none other than my father. My father is smaller in size, but he is quick, dodging most of the attacks while landing a few of his own. Eventually they are circling each other, heads low and claws bared.

"Stand down brother." Mufasa slowly orders, but my father refuses to comply.

"Why, so that you can kill my daughter?" Father sneers, his eyes narrowing.

"What did she do this time? Run too fast? Ask another annoying question? Or did her presence simply offend you?" Each question was growled in a harsh, agitated tone, each word emphasized by a swipe taken at Mufasa. My father was extremely pissed, but who could blame him? This is probably the fourth time Mufasa has gotten angry with me, but it is the first that he has attacked me; every other time he just made me really scared or embarrassed.

After the barrage of attacks, both lions backed away slightly, heavy breathing and growls being the only thing heard as venomous glares were traded. Mufasa holds his head up, looking like he wants to retaliate, but decides to release a loud huff instead, turning to walk back to Pride Rock.

"Get control of your daughter or I will." He snarls slowly as he passes Scar, glaring at me when he stalks by. My form seems to only wilt further, fear of punishment from father now making me regret calling for him.

Scar turns away from Mufasa, diverting all attention to my wounded form. He walks over to me, making his way closer to check on my injuries, but quickly stops when he notices me flinch away from him. His brows furrowed in confusion for a moment until understanding occurred.

"Y/N, you have nothing to fear, I promise I will never hurt you, okay?" His normally cynical voice is nearly unrecognizable, tone gentle and nurturing as he gazes down at his wounded daughter. I glance at him in uncertainty for a moment before stumbling up from the ground and running over to him.

He carefully comforts me, his paw lightly resting on my back as I begin to cry against him. As he comforts me, he quickly assessed my leg, it looks like a superficial wound, his claws seemed to have slipped right off of it.

"I-I don't-t even know w-what I did-d wrong." I whimpered quietly, my cries having simmered down to just tears blurring my vision

Unraveled Ch.6: I Fucking Hate Reporters

Ch.5 Ch.7

The anger continues boiling inside me as I cut off from the road to the station, instead driving towards the Broadchurch Echo; the audacity of Oliver to publicly give Danny's name is appalling and a new low for him. This is going to be gaining too much attention, we're probably going to have some uppity reporter from national down here to stir up some trouble now.

I park my car right in front of the Echo, revving my engine in irritation before turning it off, stepping out, and slamming my door noisily before turning to look inside the building. Everyone near the door looks at my angry movements hesitantly, knowing I'm not just there to pop in and say hello; I ignore them, slamming the door open and furiously stride over to Oliver's desk. As I near him he looks up at me, almost as if he might smile until he realizes that I'm incredibly agitated right now. He opens his mouth, about to ask what is wrong, but I quickly silence him by harshly smacking him, everyone immediately quieting down at the audible smack that interrupted them.

"Ow! What the hell was that for!" He shouts at me, holding his cheek as he looks at me as if I'm crazy. My messy hair falls slightly into my eyes as I harshly grab his arm tightly, forcefully ripping it off his face and dragging him to Maggie's office, Oliver tripping slightly as I make no move to slow down. Maggie looks over at me in welcoming before seeing my facial expression,

"Elspeth! What can I do for you petal?" She questions as she looks at me, I harshly push Oliver forward, himself stumbling to the floor, both of them giving me an extremely surprised look due to how I'm usually quite a kind and mellow person.

"Sorry for barging in like this Maggie, but it seems you need a little help controlling your reporters." I grate out through clenched teeth, my face blank but my voice and eyes conveying the rage I am withholding. Oliver quickly brushes himself off as he fixes his now ruffled shirt, looking at me incredulously.

"What's he done this time?" Maggie sighs as she gets up from her desk.

"Go on Oliver, tell her what you did." I sternly growl as I sharply push him forwards. He looks down as though only now feeling guilty because he was caught, eyeing me before quickly turning away from the ferocious glare I was giving him.

"I announced that the body on the beach was Daniel Latimer's." He hesitantly spoke, sheepishly looking up at Maggie to see she was now just as angry as I am. We both make eye contact, I give her a look and she nods as a 'go ahead', I quickly give him another harsh smack, but this time on the back of the head, sending him reeling forward from the impact.

I slowly take a step back as I attempt to gather myself, the last time I got this angry I ended up attacking a man I knew was guilty but got let off. Needless to say, I don't want to almost kill someone again, I like my life in Broadchurch too much to give it up for some lousy reporter.

Taking in a deep breath, I ignore the yelling Oliver is receiving, clenching my fists and closing my eyes as I think back to when I was happy, mainly memories of when I was with Daisy and Alec. The anger in me gradually dissipates, though not completely, but enough that I can restrain myself. Finally opening my eyes, I glance over at Oliver, my first slap having left a bright red imprint that is sure to bruise later on, and he is currently still holding the back of his head. Maggie seems to still be yelling, but my mind is ignoring it. Finally stepping in I calmly explain,

"Maggie. You know what he's done, I'm not going to allow the Latimer's to blame Alec over something one of your reporters did." As I look over at my friend I watch as she runs a hand over her face in frustration, sighing as she nods for me to go on.

"You're both coming with me to explain what happened to Alec, then you're going to explain to the Latimer's, the last thing this case needs is the family not wanting to cooperate with the police." I sternly state in a tone of finality, glowering at Oliver one last time before motioning for them to follow me out. I don't wait for them to respond, I simply walk out of the office, knowing that both will follow.

Leading them down the road we approach the Traders hotel, I nod over to Becca in acknowledgement before herding the two into the bar. I leave them and head back over to Becca.

"Hi Becca, how's the hotel?" I ask out of politeness, leaning against the desk as I rub my tired eyes in hidden frustration. She smiles at me before responding,

"It's been fine, business has been a little bit slow, but that is to be expected. Can I help you in the bar?" She responds back with an uneasy smile, Becca and I have had our fair share of altercations, most were nonviolent, but I know she's being polite now cause she needs the money.

I motioned for her to walk to the bar, "Please, and while we're waiting in the bar, will you please tell D.I. Hardy that he has visitors when he arrives." I say as more of a statement than a request, Becca simply nods as she finally walks behind the bar and starts getting us our drinks.

————————

Oliver and Maggie were having a quiet conversation as we waited, mostly Maggie explaining to Oliver what he was going to say, how his actions will cause problems for the police, and that he should know that his actions were incredibly rude and inappropriate. She had attempted conversation with me as well since we are friends, but right now I am still irate at the situation. To be as nice as possible I only give short replies to avoid any possibility of snapping, and I completely ignore anything Oliver says, instead focusing on the Italian soda I am drinking, the peppermint syrup taste watered down slightly.

After a few more minutes of waiting I can hear footsteps entering the hotel as well as Becca trying to make conversation and find out if the beach will be open. People wondering that already just angers me even more, my tightening grasp on the glass is starting to turn my knuckles white. I look over my back to see my favorite disgruntled D.I. entering the room, looking warily at the two reporters sitting beside me before giving me a subtle friendly glance.

I run my eyes over his appearance swiftly, his hair is messier than usual, his loose tie is disastrous, and his shirt wrinkled. Judging by his stressed look, he most definitely is feeling pressured by the information being leaked, and probably gave the team a good shouting at.

He looks between us, having a harsh glare on Oliver before Maggie speaks,

"Well, go on." She urges, seeing Oliver's hesitance when facing the rigid D.I.

"I was, uh, I was wrong to post that news. I'm sorry." Oliver explains, I release my grip on the glass in fear of breaking it, turning away from them both and walking next to Alec, eyeing Oliver as I stop.

"I should hang him by the bollocks from the town hall spire. All reporting on this will come through me now. The Echo works with the police. I'll, uh, I'll speak to the Latimer family, give them our apologies." Maggie states, exasperated that one of her reporters would do such a thing. Our gazes drift away from Maggie and back to Oliver, who I know for a fact is not going to stop reporting on this whether Maggie likes it or not.

"Stay out of my way." Alec voices, his words not harshly spoken, but seeming to carry a silent threat. Oliver's slightly scared look is enough for me to allow myself to be pulled away by Alec as he walks away from them. He let's go of my arm and I turn to leave as well when he reaches out and stops me.

"You and I need to have a talk before the press conference." He states in his business tone since we are in hearing range of Becca, lord knows neither of us want this town to know about the past. After observing Alec's stern gaze I simply nod, knowing that we're talking whether I agree or not, allowing him to lead me to his room.

As we enter I hear the door close, taking a deep breath I turn and face Alec. Not expecting what happens next, I am pleasantly surprised to be pulled into a lingering embrace, returning it happily. We both pull away, and it is only now that I glimpse a boyish grin I haven't seen in quite awhile.

"What's got you all happy and smiley?" I tease with a questioning smirk, squinting my eyes playfully at his expression. He maintains the grin as he pushes me away bashfully.

"Oh nothing extraordinary, I've just finally come to the realization that my best friend is back." He states in his thick Scottish brogue, glancing over at me before back to the ground in embarrassment of how he's acting. I can't withhold my joyous smug grin at knowing he missed me as much as I missed him.

"You have no idea how much I've missed that accent." I state just above a whisper as I pull him back towards me, my arms resting on his while his rest lazily on my waist, both of us smiling at each other in glee in spite of recent events. Pushing away from him gently, I pull him over so we are both sitting on the bed, myself glancing at the time before quickly around his room while missing the fact that he is simply looking at me.

Finally stopping my wandering gaze I focus onto Alec, giving him a sheepish smile, my eyes drifting to the ground as I wring my hands slightly.

"Sorry... about Oliver. He's quite a brat, first he claims he's my boyfriend, and now he's giving away a dead child's information to the world." I explain in disgust, emphasizing on how he's a brat. Alec reaches over, grasping both my hands delicately to stop me from wringing them, his eyes visibly soften at how I'm apologizing for Oliver.

"No need to apologize Els, I knew from the first time I saw him that he was going to be a thorn in my side, so don't you dare go apologizing for him." He answers in a serious tone as he subconsciously runs his thumb lightly over the top of my hand. I grin back at him, I've always noticed that he was kind to me and only me, even with Tess he never seemed to be this gentle and vulnerable.

"I've really missed you." He quietly states, bringing me out of my thoughts, looking up into his amber brown eyes. A slight smile formed on my lips at their warmness.

"I'm really sorry about leaving, I understand if you hold a grudge against me for that. After all, I didn't even tell you where I was going, or that I even was going." I respond and retract my hands, fearful that even with him being so kind, he would still hold a grudge. I am pleasantly surprised when he lets out a gruff chuckle, not sinister or anything, more of an amused one. I looked up at him in confusion, I was sure he would hold a grudge against me.

"Oh Els, after all our years of friendship! I was sure you would know by now, that it is impossible for me to stay angry at you." He exclaims in amusement, holding out his hands for me to grasp them again, which I willingly do.

After talking with him, we ended up with us laying down and staring at the ceiling as we talked, almost forgetting about the conference in a few hours. We quickly catch up on what we've missed since we've been separated. I learned more about the divorce, like how the rumors about Tess cheating were true, how he didn't even fight to get her back, and how he and Daisy seem to have an even greater tension in their relationship now, apparently she barely even answers let alone returns his calls; and then, worst of all, how Tess lost evidence and Alec took the blame for it.

The guilt of me leaving returns, I openly apologize for leaving him alone, but he is so forgiving to me that it makes me feel even more guilty, though I withhold telling him that. In return to his explanation, I explain how I've been doing in Broadchurch, how I've become a fairly popular person, most people in the area at least know me, though my closest friends would be Ellie and Beth. The things I do keep from him are all my health issues I have now, depression, insomnia, and panic attacks would only make him worry, and I am most definitely not going to tell him about what happened in my first month of being in Broadchurch that caused the panic attacks. Continuing on, Alec questions how I can even put up with Ellie, which ends up with both of us having a laugh as we argue about Ellie.

"She's not that bad, she welcomed me without a question when I arrived." I state as I look over at Alec with a giggle, thinking back to when I first arrived and felt like a fish out of water.

"I can't bloody stand her, she just smiles so much, and can't remain objective, and she acts like she's everybody's bloody solicitor." He replies with slight frustration at Ellie's friendly attitude. I simply give him a grin as I turn over onto my side and poke his chest in an amused way.

"Maybe if you weren't such an ass, you would get along with her better." I playfully accuse, emphasizing him acting like an ass to everyone. He glares at me before quickly grabbing my hand, though surprisingly gentle. His playful glare slips away as a new look enters his eyes, one I haven't seen him give me since back in high school.

The look in his eyes is one of love, placing a soft kiss on my hand as he looks up at me. My eyes widened slightly, I've liked him since high school, but I never acted on it in fear of the repercussions and my feelings became dormant, and when he married Tess I thought his feelings for me were gone, but clearly not.

"Never knew you as the romantic type Alec." I state quietly, trying to play it off as if he were simply teasing me. We both sit up now, still looking at each other in silent tension, both unsure about what to do next, though neither of us is uncomfortable. I make no move away from him as he lightly cups my jaw in his hand, and slowly brings us closer together.

We are mere centimeters away from each other now, he hesitates slightly as he glances down at my lips momentarily before searching my eyes.

"Tell me to stop, and I will." He voices, slightly hoarse in anticipation and nervousness. I swallow slightly as I look into his warm and welcoming eyes, only nodding my head in fear my voice will fail me.

He quickly searches my eyes once more for any signs of rejection before swiftly moving forward, our lips meeting before I can truly believe what's going on.

Once, then twice, the first seeming as a hesitant one, almost as if testing the water to make sure it's safe to go further. The second was far different, almost as if all his pent up emotion was trying to be conveyed in one moment, it was during the second that I realized I'd never have enough of him. Both of us feel a fervent, almost urgent need for each other, as if all our years of dormant feelings are trying to make up for it in this one moment.

————————

The conference was now only about 40 minutes away, and Alec still hadn't changed out of his disgruntled clothes and into his other suit, but then again, we both were a bit distracted.

After a couple more minutes of indulgence I finally had enough self-control to break apart, both of us panting slightly though still looking at each other hungrily.

I softly place my hand on his chest before giving him a short kiss and pushing him away.

"Come on, we had a couple hours to get ready for that conference, and now we are nearing only having a half hour left." I say as we continue to look at each other. Neither of us truly want to separate, but knowing that we have to. He slowly pushes himself up and stands, holding out his hand and helping me up as well.

"I have to pop off back home to get changed, but I'll meet you at the station." I explain as I walk towards a mirror and straighten my shirt and hair to make it look like I didn't just have a snog.

"Fair enough." Alec responds as he grabs another suit, though surprising me by walking up and softly kissing my cheek.

"I'll see you at the station." He states, his voice hoarse as he smiles at me before I leave.

————————

Driving back to the station, my normal blue business suit changed to a formal black one, a pair of black Dr. Martens boots shined to perfection, my hair also neatly combed.

I enter the code and drive into the parking area, quickly pulling the top up and locking the doors. Entering the station I greet the uniforms before heading off to our section of the building.

As I walk in I am greeted by Alec nearly bumping into me, a blush rising on my cheeks before our attention is pulled over to Ellie talking to us.

"Look at this. CCTV from the town center, last night." Both of us walked over to different sides of her chair and leaned over her desk to watch.

"Is that Danny?" Alec questions.

"It matches his clothes and his height. And that looks like his skateboard. He wasn't abducted." Ellie states as we watch the footage.

"He snuck out?" I mumble, wondering why, where or who he would possibly be going to see that late at night.

"Why? Where was he going? Who was he meeting?" Alec vocalizes everything I was just thinking.

"And where's his skateboard?" I fire back, earning a 'yeah' in response.

"Oh, and another thing. I was checking through the list of belongings recovered from Danny's body and at home, and there's no mobile phone. He definitely had one, because he and Tom, my son, had the same model. Virtually identical." Ellie continues, causing only more questions to pop into my head. Ignoring the rest of what they were saying as I think about what I've heard, where is his phone and skateboard? Someone is definitely keeping them, so who? They would've had to either be out really late/early, or be the killer, did the phone have proof of them meeting?

I'm dragged out of my thoughts, realizing Alec had just walked off and Ellie looked surprised.

"Spacing off again, CARLISLE?" Ellie sarcastically questions, over-emphasizing my last name.

"No idea what you're talking about, MILLER." I sassily reply before walking off, both of us giggling to ourselves because of our childish antics.

————————

Alec is a few minutes away from going up in front of the cameras. I quickly pull him aside, fretting over his messy hair and loose tie, only earning an amused look from him.

"I'll be fine, I always look this way." He says as I do up the top button, brushing his hair out of his face.

"That's what worries me." I respond before finishing his look by tightening his tie and smoothing his shirt. Giving him a small smile before kissing him on the cheek and sending him to wait to be called up. The only thought running through my head is,

"What am I going to do with that man?"

Ch.5 Ch.7

Alec Hardy: A Messed Up Situation

Imagine your step-father abuses you, and you finally break; leading to an investigation and interview/questioning with a detective(Alec Hardy):

- Lil warning: mention of parent death, eludes to drugging, alludes to rape, pedophilia, rape, molestation, minor reader/underage reader, abuse, battery, alludes to non-con -

"Help! Someone! Please!!"

My voice strains against the hand, I've never been attacked, let alone raped before, and I certainly didn't think I ever would be. The only thing making a bad situation worse, is that fact that this is my step-father.

_______

My father was killed in a car crash when I was 12, my mother was all I had left, but it seems I wasn't enough.

The month after his funeral, she returned home, hanging on the arm of a 30 something year old man, his smile seeming to grow even wider when he spots me.

His name is Steven, and he looked to be 5"11, with dirty blond hair that was brushed to the side and light stubble on his jaw. He seemed friendly enough, and he was always playing games with me whenever he was over.

He came over often after that night, practically living at our house, so I got to know him fairly well. He always wanted to be near me, sitting next to me, placing his hand on my shoulder.

Something I always found odd was how it seemed he would lightly flirt with me whenever my mother was gone. He would do it quickly, so quick you would miss it if you blinked; but I ignored it because he made my mother happy.

After a year of them dating, he officially moved in, right in time to celebrate my 13th birthday. That night was great, I invited all my friends over to the beach, we spent most of it in the ocean, but also had a lot of fun chasing each other and building sand castles. When I got home that night, he helped my mother to bed, and I quickly disappeared into my bathroom.

Though I had a great time, I had been making an effort to avoid Steven. His flirting was getting heavier and making me uncomfortable, he always stares at me, and always wanted to be touching me, whether it be him holding my hand or grasping my arm.

That was the night he first kissed me, he had cornered me after my shower, and his facial expression looked restrained, almost as though he was holding back a wild beast. He made me feel disgusted with myself, why was he doing this? He said I had been teasing him ever since I met him, but this just makes me even more confused, how did I tease him?

_______

The following year after that was normal, he would still hold my hand or hold me in a lingering hug, but he never kissed me again apart from kissing my forehead. He started to feel more like a father, or maybe that is what I made myself believe.

He married my mother the day I turned 14, it was sort of a special wedding-birthday mix thing. It was a lot of fun, my friends and their families were invited to the wedding, and my mother looked the happiest I'd ever seen her. Her white dress was beautiful, but she said I stole the show with my light lavender dress. That whole day and night, I felt eyes lingering on me, but I pushed the thought away, instead choosing to enjoy the wedding.

When we returned home from the wedding, my mother was acting strangely, her words were slurring and her movements droopy, this level of exhaustion seemed abnormal.

Steven put her to bed as I headed to my room to do the same. I was about to begin undressing when I heard the door to my room creak open, I quickly turned around, spotting Steven entering my room. He seemed so awake, but his calm demeanor made everything feel eerie.

"Here, let me help you." I didn't even have time to stop him, he had already grabbed the zipper for my dress, pulling it down my back slowly, almost as if savoring the moment. My body reacted in paranoia, I don't know why he's in my room, shouldn't he be with mom?

"Y'know... I've been waiting all day to take this dress off." At that moment, my paranoia seemed immensely justified. I immediately stepped away from him, but he moved quicker than me; yanking my dress down, the wispy material softly pooled around my ankles. I go to guard my body, but he's already shoving me down onto my bed, roughly holding his hand over my mouth, all the while whispering what he's going to do, and how much he loves me.

___

That night, he took everything from me, not only my innocence, but also my will to care.  It hurt so much, I was pleading for him to stop half the time, before falling silent and closing my eyes, praying that this was all a nightmare. I could feel the tears streaming out of my eyes as he hovered over me, his panting and movements forcefully reminding me of my horrifying reality.

The next morning I limped into school after rushing away from Steven and my mother. I spent the whole day in silence, never raising my hand, refusing to talk when called on.

This behavior continued for the next week, going to school barely half-alive, and then going home and laying in bed; Steven coming in any time possible to satiate his hunger. I don't know how my mother never noticed, but I pray she wasn't turning a blind eye to my fucked up situation.

I began making myself throw up, I don't know why, but it was something to help distract me. Some of the teachers pulled me to the side, asking me why I didn't play with the other kids anymore. I always shrugged my shoulders, refusing to speak.

After a month of Steven's continuous abuse, I finally did something that put all the teachers on edge.

___

It was an unnaturally hot day, and I made the mistake of taking my jacket off during recess.

My arms had a few bruises along them, but the most worrisome things they saw were the bruises around my wrists, they had distinct marks where Steven's fingertips had dug into them too harshly.

A small group of school teachers and others approached me. Mr.Rivers, a kind younger man who had the role of vice principal, made the mistake of lightly grasping my shoulder to get my attention. I shuddered away from his touch, cries of fear escaping my mouth as I fell backwards and to the floor. They all seemed shocked by my reaction, Mr.Rivers tries to comfort me, but I curl into myself, pulling my knees up and hiding my face against them.

I know he is distressed by my reaction, possibly feeling guilty, thinking he made me do this, but I hope he knows that he isn't the one making me cry.

The female teachers immediately move forward, some of them shooing the men away, and another carefully hugging me. I wrap my arms around her as she embraces me, holding and comforting me the way I wish my mother would.

___

I spend the next 30 minutes in an empty classroom, the same female teacher and a counselor sitting with me. They kept trying to get me to talk, but I gave only sparse answers. From the looks on their faces, they already have assumptions as to what happened to me.

My mind keeps replaying everything Steven has done to me, all the nightmares that plague me with each second of sleep I managed to attain.

I'm dragged out of my conscious terror when I hear a commotion outside of the classroom, the counselor and teacher glance at each other before getting up to investigate, but the door opens before they reach it.

A man and woman walk into the classroom, taking a quick scan of the room with their eyes before settling on my huddled form.

The man has messy brown hair that falls lightly over his forehead and a thickish layer of stubble on his jaw, he has deep brown eyes and looks eternally tired. The woman has dark brown curly hair that is pulled up in the back, she looks a lot more approachable, and is wearing a comforting yet sad smile as she gazes at me.

The counselor goes to stop them when they try to approach me, but they seem to show some sort of badge. After whispering some words, the counselor begrudgingly motions for the teacher to follow her out of the classroom.

When the door closes, I finally realize I'm left alone with these two strangers, I'm about to freak out when the woman starts to speak.

"Hello deary, I'm Ellie, and this is my partner Alec. We work for the police and we were wondering if you can help us?" She kneels down onto the floor, her voice is soft and comforting, drawing me to want to open up. I glance at the man, Alec, and my eyes tear up in fear when they meet his gaze, I quickly look away and back to the woman, hesitantly nodding my head.

She smiles, patting the chair next to her, I carefully walk over and sit in the chair, Alec pulling up one next to Ellie yet refusing to sit, instead standing behind it. They don't talk for a couple seconds, almost as though thinking of what to say.

"Can you tell us your name?" Ellie delicately asks. I glance at her eyes, before stiffly nodding.

"...Y-Y/N." I was worried that they didn't hear my hoarse whisper, but the smile she gave alerted me that I was heard. She asked me a few more questions, how I'm feeling right now, what my favorite subject was, how my parents were doing, just simple questions to establish a dialogue.

I stuttered a lot when answering the last question, I don't know how they are doing, and I don't want them being called my parents, not with what he has done to me and how she ignores what he does to me.

After the last question, a few moments of silence swirls through the air. It almost stings when I breathe in, I want to cough and yell, anything but be stuck in my mind.

"How'd you get those marks on your wrists?" This is the first time I've heard Alec talk, his voice isn't harsh like I thought it'd be, he actually spoke quite gently. This is the second time I've made eye contact with him, but instead of fear, a feeling of warmth and comfort seems to flow soothingly through me. He doesn't scare me like Steven, he actually reminds me of a teddy bear, I don't know why he is making me feel safe.

I don't answer the question, shifting my gaze to the scuffed up floor of the classroom. I can tell that Alec and Ellie are sharing a knowing look.

"You said you have a step-father, right? Steven?" I visibly recoil at the name, pulling my arms over my chest, almost as though subconsciously trying to shield myself from him.

"Don't say his name." My voice is weaker, I haven't talked this much in a while, I practically became a mute ever since he first raped me.

"Y/N... Y/N!" Alec calls my name gently at first, but the second time was a little sterner, though I don't know if stern is the right word. It's the voice my dad would use when I would ignore my chores even after he reminded me. Or when he learned I was being bullied, but I refused to tell him the bully's name.

I look at Alec, sighing in contemplation as I gaze up at him.

"Did he do this to you? Did Steven hurt you?" His question makes my heart beat faster in trepidation over what I was going to say. Was I going to tell him the truth, or was I going to lie and be abused for the rest of my life until I can leave home?

Something came over me, maybe it was how I was starved of real fatherly affection, or maybe it was how I finally felt seen and understood that caused me to stand from my chair and rush over to Alec's standing form.

One second I was rigidly sitting in a cold chair, and the next I was wrapping my arms around a man that represented the father figure I so desperately needed to comfort me.

Alec seemed stunned, this was probably the last thing he expected to happen, but after realizing what was going on he delicately wrapped his arms around me, hugging me back. I can't hold it in anymore, I cry and sob against him as he comforts me, hugging me tightly to him as he calms me down.

"Steven, he... he... he rapes me."

Rockstar: Your Story(Interview)

You're a famous rock star being interviewed about the beginning of your career to the current (includes mentions of Mick Ronson, David Bowie, and Mick Jagger):

"Ma'am, can you tell us a little bit about when you first met David Bowie?" The question was so sudden that I could only scrunch my eyebrows at it. I expected David to be brought up sometime, but I didn't expect the first question to be about him.

"Sure, let's see.... I can't remember the exact date, but my dear friend - Mick Ronson - had called me up saying some band was interested in having us as guitar players. I was hesitant because I enjoyed my job as an architect, but something pushed me to go with him; we hopped on the next train to London and did the audition." I explain, tilting my head up at the memories resurfacing. Ronno had been unsure as well, but I'm glad we went.

"We heard it wasn't a pleasant experience? What happened?" They emphasize 'wasn't', clearly looking for some juicy gossip on Bowie, and who am I to disappoint.

"Well, David had accepted Mick but rejected me, and Ronno originally turned down the offer because of that. He didn't even tell me the truth, just grabbed me by the arm and lugged me as well as the guitars out of the building. I knew it hadn't gone well because he had this angry glare in his eyes, which is strange, because if you've ever met him, then you'd know he's rather sweet, and has a very discerning disposition.

I asked what was wrong and he just said that they didn't want us. I knew he was lying, but I didn't want to argue with him. We spent the rest of the time wandering around London sightseeing." I state, folding my hands up in my lap as I look at the interviewer. I don't like looking back to the '70s, a lot of stuff happened, and I fear what they will bring up.

"What happened after that?" The interviewer continues hastily digging, wanting more information. I guess this person isn't going to quit until they get the full story.

"We had stopped by a restaurant and were having lunch. Ronno was saying we should catch the train home after, but we were interrupted by David. I don't know how he found us, I just remember being shocked when he started begging Ronno to join his band. I was also a little confused, and I remember saying, 'I thought you didn't want us?'

To which David responded, 'No, I want him, I just don't want you.' That line had run through my head the following 3 years until I realized how lucky I was David didn't want me." I say the last few sentences in a softer voice, not liking to relive that particular memory.

"He said what?!" The interviewer over exaggerates their movements, getting the audience laughing just as they had hoped. I laugh a little too, David saying something so rude does seem rather uncharacteristic.

"Yah, I was rather astonished as well because the words left him in such a casual way, as if choosing what bread to buy at the market." I say, gently chuckling at the visual of David buying bread in such a critical way.

"What- How, how did Mick react to that." Their eyes widen, the crowd quiets down as they await my answer.

"Oh, he almost punched David! But I grabbed him and pulled him aside, asking why he lied and all that stuff." I respond, remembering the beautiful anger that he so desperately wanted to act on.

"I bet the last thing you wanted was for him to join David's band, right?" The interviewer asks the question humorously.

"That's... Wrong actually. He was vehemently against playing in a band without me, this is mainly due to the fact that ever since we were 12, we've always played together. But, I wanted him to take the opportunity, to show the world his ability, and to be able to be a confident player without me." I explain in a gentle voice, vaguely thinking of how self-conscious he was at the time when it came to him playing guitar.

"You seem to be a really supportive friend, (Y/N)." The tone of their voice turns genuine, the whole conversation losing the humorous quality that had been sustained.

"I try to be, the last thing I want is for people's failings or regrets to be because of me." I smile, my relieved guilt ebbing away as I think of where he and I are now.

"As well as being supportive, you also seem to be fairly protective, at least, that's what I got when Mick told us the story of you traumatizing his high school bully! With that in mind, how did you feel when you learned he was earning next to nothing during the tour?" The beginning of the sentence sent the interviewer and audience into a bit of a laugh, I laugh as well at the memory of scaring off Ronno's bully.

The laughter lightly quiets down to a more serious tone at the end discussion.

"I was appalled! I hated myself for a while because of that, because I pushed him into this situation where he was barely getting paid. Which was the opposite of what I thought would happen, especially after their popularity went through the roof!"I exclaimed, my eyes widening as I relived the shock; the ebbing guilt rushing forward tenfold.

"I heard you went to some extreme measures in order to help him out, what exactly did you do?" The interviewer goes on, the questions digging into lesser known information.

"Well, I joined any band I could, I would try and get hired by restaurants for live music during nights, and then during the day I had a job as a waitress as well as working part time as a lyricist." I explain, just saying that makes me remember how tiring my schedule was back then.

"Now that's a lot to juggle, and I'm sure you have some great stories from those days, but we have a specific story. What happened during one of your many tiring nights of live music?" They ask, this question is sort of a bore to me, one I'm frequently asked to retell.

"I had been band hopping at the time, and was hired for a gig when I didn't have a supportive group, so I improvised. I played my guitar and was singing live, but before that I had recorded the drums and rhythm guitar parts for the songs I was scheduled to play, so when I got up there I just started the recording and played along.

This was for a club where they wanted rock, so it was heavier playing. It was during my guitar solo I noticed someone in the crowd." I divulged, deciding to add in some information I had never shared before.

"Ooh, is this when you met the Rolling Stones?!" Someone screams out, the crowd and interviewer looking in shock before they all burst out laughing at the person's eagerness.

"Yes... but I technically only met Mick Jagger that night. I wasn't a big fan of the Rolling Stones at the time, but I did have an appreciation for their music. I was actually playing one of their songs at the time. Either way, it just surprised me to see him." I continued after we had all calmed down.

"I know you joined their band after that, but can you tell us what exactly went down?" I squint slightly at my interviewer's vernacular before deciding to just answer them.

"I don't think I can tell you all the details, I worry J might get embarrassed! But, I can tell you that he met me backstage after I was done and asked me if I was available tomorrow to meet him at a recording studio. It was the weekend the next day, so I said yes, he wrote down the address and time on a piece of paper, handed it to me, then said goodbye and walked away." I state in a jovial tone, Jagger is one of my favorite people to talk about, because he loves to call immediately after the interview and schedule a meet up. He's strange like that.

"Sounds strange? How did you feel after that?" They looked intrigued, clearly wanting me to divulge the information that I withheld.

"I was shocked. The next day I went and met him and his band mates, then they started playing a song together and asked me to improv. I had never heard the song before, so I just started watching their movements and playing off of that; by the end they asked if I was interested in joining their band, which I clearly said yes to." I exclaim, the interviewer's face looking shocked by what I just said.

"Wow, that all sounds like it went really fast?"

"Oh it was, we had only been playing for 20 minutes when they all stopped and asked me to join. I was going to say no because I needed to make enough money to send to Ronno, but when they mentioned how much I would make weekly I immediately accepted." I reply, chuckling as I remember my astonishment.

"I know after joining the Stones, your career skyrocketed, your solo albums have done well, and you write all your own songs?" They continue, motioning to my newest album sitting on their desk.

"Yes, my solo albums have done surprisingly well, and I write my own songs. I do accept and sing other songs sometimes, but I usually have a story told throughout my albums, and throwing in a random song messes that up." I explained.

"Did you and Mick Ronson keep in contact during this?" They question, looking at me in interest.

"Of course! In the beginning, Ronno and I called every week at the least, and we would send letters sometimes too!" I state ecstatically before calming myself down.

"How did that work? He was touring at the time right?" They ask in a befuddled way.

"Yes he was, but he would tell me the places he would be as well as the dates that he would be there, and I would do the same with him. It was a little complicated, but it was worth it." I reply, my hands waving as I mimic us writing letters.

"Honestly though, what would you send him that couldn't be said over the phone?" They ask after a few moments, laughing as their mind runs.

"Photos, drawings, songs, food-"

"Photos?" I can hear what they're implying, and I can't help but squint my face in disgust. The crowd's laughter magnified at my reaction.

"Stop thinking like that, you all have dirty minds! I would take pictures of me and the band, as well as the places around me. I loved drawing as well, so I would send him some, as well as some songs that I thought he would enjoy playing. Lastly, I knew he was getting food, but I knew it wasn't food he was used to, so I would bake him something, or buy him local snacks and ship them off to the correct address." I explain, describing the different things I would send him.

"Did he ask you to do any of this?"

"No, Ronno was never a complainer, he hated telling people his issues. I was usually the exception, but he prefers telling me in person as compared to over the phone or in a letter. He did enjoy them though, and he would send me songs and pictures as well. I remember him snapping a picture of his drummer scarfing down some cookies I made!" I jubilantly state, smirking as I remember that the picture is still hanging on my fridge.

"You sent him all these lovely things, what did he send you?"

"I never asked for anything more than a letter or a phone call, but he would send me these extravagant songs, asking me how I thought they sounded and if I liked them. He would also send me drawings - he's not really an artist, but he knows I love the little doodles he does randomly, so he started sending them to me." I grin, knowing Ronni will be embarrassed by me sharing this information.

"Was this an easier time in your life or would you consider it one of the more stressful?" Ah, here it comes, the questions I am most dreading.

"The fame and fortune made my financial issues about none, but socially I felt isolated. I had played in popular bands before, but never like this, I was only consistently around my band mates and the people that worked for them. I only really talked with Jagger and Keith, and then Keith randomly started hating me, so I was down to only talking to Jagger." I reply almost subconsciously, my mind wanting to distance itself from these memories.

"What about Ronson? I thought you said you had weekly phone calls and sent letters?" They ask in confusion.

"We did, but about 3 months into that, David started complaining to Ronno that he spent too much time talking to me, and that he was ignoring his band mates for someone he might never see again." The answer in a short tone, clearly still holding resentment for David's decision.

"David said that?" They say in shock.

"Yah, he said it straight to Ronno's face. We obviously didn't stop talking, we kept calling and messaging each other, but it lessened after that to about 1 call every 2 weeks. They became much longer phone calls though, he said that David was limiting his amount of calls, but stated that David couldn't limit his time, so we would end up talking through the entire night!" I smile on glee, our weak form of rebellion still makes my heart warm.

"We've talked about Ronson and his band mates reactions, but how did your bandmates react?" They continue, going down a different avenue.

"Well, everyone basically made fun of me and said we were in love. They told me to stop being so desperate because I was probably annoying Ronno, that remark actually made me start to overthink a lot. I started worrying that I was annoying him, and that he didn't like talking to me anymore. I think that's around the time I began to develop anxiety, I was already depressed, so that just added on to my plate." I responded before realizing I was over sharing on live TV.

"Did you tell Ronson about that? How did he react?" They gratefully kept moving right along, not leaving an awkward silence.

"Well, I never actually told him about that, I think this is the first time he's hearing this." I smile in discomfort, and an uncertain smile on my face.

"Really? You never spoke to him about any of this?" They ask in surprise, slightly taken aback.

"My anxiety had me thinking that saying a single word to him was annoying him, so no, I didn't just start talking about this to him. It was a really dark spot for me, the person to pull me through was Jagger actually. He noticed my extensive isolation, how I stopped eating around others, how I stopped talking. He really pulled through for me, which is probably why I'm still friends with him." I voice solemnly, deciding that I might as well be honest about the situation since there is no going back now.

"I know this is a heavy topic for you, I have some more questions, but if you're uncomfortable we can move on." Wish you had said that earlier, but oh well.

"Ask away, we can just skip the ones I'm uncomfortable with." I smile in response.

"Alright, what did Mick do? Did he just pull you aside and talk to you?"

"No actually, he wrote a song and asked if I would listen to it." I responded.

"What?" Perhaps I should rephrase my vague response.

"That's honestly what he did. But he wrote a song with true meaning, it was rather dark, and it actually made me cry and begin to hyperventilate. We were alone, so he just rushed over and helped calm me down; he didn't ask me any questions until I had completely relaxed." I explained honestly.

"What did he say exactly?" They continue.

"He just apologized, asking if I wanted to talk. I said no at first, but then he asked why I've been distancing myself from him and the band, why all the songs I was writing were either dark or sad.

I told him the truth, that I was depressed, that I felt so intensely alone, and that I could no longer talk to Ronno because I was probably annoying him." An uncomfortable shiver ran up my spine, reliving those memories makes me feel nauseous.

"How did he react to that? I can't really picture him being the best at giving advice and comfort." She smiles in a joking way, attempting to lighten the conversation.

"He was lovely, he hugged me like a giant teddy bear and told me that he would help me through this. We talked for a while, he asked me why I thought I was annoying Ronno, and I told him what the band had said to me." I answer, feeling a small smile appear at the memory of Mick comforting me.

"What did he say to that?"

"He told me that they were a bunch of single idiots who were jealous, and that I shouldn't ruin a meaningful relationship with my best friend by believing the words of immature drug addicts." I respond, barely withholding my laughter as I watch everyone's reaction.

"He said that?!" They nearly yell, everyone laughing at my answer.

"Yes, and the next day he told them all off for belittling me. During our talk he spoke to me about my isolation, I explained that I did that when I was sad or feeling out of place, and he asked what he could do to make me feel like a part of the team. He honestly made me cry a couple of times from how caring he was. Then he started talking about heavier subjects, such as why I wasn't eating during lunch breaks, why I never accepted snacks, and why I was noticeably losing weight." I state, realizing that I was now broaching the subject of my eating disorder.

"That must've been tough." They state seriously.

"It was, I realized at that moment, how much I missed Ronno. I asked Jagger if he wanted me to leave the band since I was such a problem, but he told me to stop being an idiot. The next day I was given a few sheepish apologies from my band mates, and Jagger became a very prominent person in my life from that day on." I explained.

"That's good. So Mick Jagger stepping up to help you must've put him pretty high on your list of friends right?"

"Yes, I only realized how much he was doing for me when he barged into my room during a depressive episode and all but shoved the phone into my hand. I distinctly remember him telling me not to come out until tomorrow morning. When I held the phone up, he had actually dialed up Ronno, who sounded very tired and confused, as well as concerned." I smile, these are the memories that I hold onto dearly.

"Really? How did he know what number to call?"

"I assume he went snooping around my desk, in one of my drawers was a paper with dates, addresses, and numbers. It was one of the sweetest things anybody had ever done for me." The look on my face was genuine, that was honestly one of the sweetest things anyone has done for me.

"I know you two are still good friends, but was there ever the possibility of anything more?" Oh boy, I hate it when they try to talk about this subject.

"I did find him to be attractive if that's what you're asking, but I was never in love with him. He did ask me out on a date and I had said yes, the date was lovely, but we got caught in a crowd of fans and he was like how he normally is. It made me remember how many groupies I'd seen leaving his room, and how many women I've seen smothered over him at all times, and it scared me away from ever allowing myself to love him." I reply sincerely.

"Could there have been something? If you hadn't cut it off?" They continue to push the topic.

"There could've been something eventually - from the despondent look on his face when I said I didn't want a relationship, I think he wanted us to become something more. I don't regret what I did, I like the friendship I have with him, the last thing I wanted to do was ruin it with his promiscuity and my need for loyalty. We've moved on though, I kind of see him as the older brother I never had." I reply, explaining my reasoning and the aftermath.

"Well, since that ship has definitely sunk, what about Ronson? Was there ever anything there?" They just won't give up will they?

"No... Well, there was one time in high school when we thought we should try dating, but that was spurred on by our teenage inability to understand that we loved each other, but not in that way. We realized that that wasn't us when we tried to act like a couple and both noticed that it felt forced. Ever since then we've been best friends." I state.

"Gosh, you're shooting down all of the fan favorites. Are you interested in anyone? Anyone at all?" They sound slightly exasperated, maybe I should throw them a bone.

"Hmmm... Maybe." I smile, a mischievous glint surely in my eye.

"What do you mean maybe? You can't leave the fans hanging like that!" I can tell that I have their genuine attention now.

"Well, ever since David and I have become friends, I've been... slightly interested in him." I say, jumping straight into the deep end.

"..." The silence could almost be described as palpable, it almost makes me want to laugh at how everyone is stunned into silence.

"Well, don't just stare at me." I laugh lightly.

"... I'm sorry, just processing. Does David know this?" They ask in hurried confusion.

"Well, if he's watching like he said he would, then he knows now." I laughed once again, but this time it had an air of uncertainty to it.

"Don't tell me you just confessed over live TV, in an interview no less!" They say in shock, looking at me with wide eyes.

"What can I say! If he likes me back then this has worked out great." I respond, grinning at their reaction.

"What if he doesn't!" Their response makes me shiver in discomfort at that possibility, but I respond in humor.

"Then I die of embarrassment, cut all ties, and become a hermit!" I state loudly.

"Oh don't do that Y/N! Only healthy reactions are allowed on this show." The crowd laughs lightly at our convo.

I'm about to respond, but my Motorola starts ringing in my bag. I look to the interviewer before quickly digging through my bag and pulling out the phone. I sheepishly glance at it, the audience having fallen silent at the interruption.

"Is it alright if I answer this? It might be important." I state, I know this sounds bad, but it could actually be important since I left my home and animals under the care of my neighbor.

"Of course, but you owe us one more question before you leave then." They respond, holding out their hand.

"Deal!" I agree, shaking their hand quickly.

"Hello, this is Y/N." I state in a professional tone, getting a funny look from the interviewer at my seriousness.

"Y/N darling!" I am thrown off by the happy and familiar tone.

"...David?!" I state in slight confusion, everyone seeming to lean in closer.

"...Yes?" He responds in the same tone, making fun of the way I responded.

"Why are you calling me? I'm in an interview." I explain, swiftly going back to my professional tone.

"Yes well, when someone confesses they are interested in dating you, I thought the first thing one should do is accept." He responds in a joking yet serious tone.

I'm silent for a few moments in surprise, did David just say he wants to date me too?

"Well, don't leave me without a response darling... Will you go on a date with me." His serious and self assured tone dwindled slightly, I can hear his uncertainty.

"Yes." My response was short, it was rushed and all I could muster with my amount of shock.

"Good, I'll pick you up after the interview, so I'll see you in a few minutes." He stated before hanging up.

I can't contain the overjoyed smile that spreads across my face, most certainly accompanied by a warm blush. The audience snickers as I clumsily put my phone away, then they start laughing as the interviewer stares at me with a smug grin.

"Who was that?" They ask tauntingly.

"Ohhh... no one." I try to brush it off, but I know no one is believing.

"Really! Does this no one happen to be named David Bowie?" They continue.

I avert my eyes in embarrassment, the audience laughing even louder as I sheepishly nod my head.

Unraveled Ch.3: The Family

Ch.2 Ch.4

After doing some paperwork for about an hour Ellie suddenly runs into the office, rushing over to my desk.

"Come on Els! The beach has been blocked off and we're both being called down there. Apparently there is a body." Ellie whispers quickly to me in distress.

I look up at her, feeling my memories attempting to resurface, but I quickly push them back, swallowing my nerves as I put on my cold, stern exterior. We quickly walked out of the department, hopping into our respective cars and heading over to the beach. I can constantly feel the memories of that little girl's body in the water trying to pick its way into my vision, but I shake it off. I couldn't avenge her, but I can try and solve whoever it is that we find.

Flashing our badges we park our cars and get access to the beach, I stumble slightly in the sand as Ellie and I weave through the small group of people beginning to crowd against the police tape.

We walk straight up to the tape, quickly being allowed in by the uniforms, Ellie going first and walking towards the body. I, however, feel myself slowing down, the waves rolling and the image of a child's dead body being all too similar. My mind and my body feel disconnected, like I am physically here but my mind is simply watching the nauseating scene unfold.

The only thought in my mind being, 'Is this penance for my downfalls, God?', closing my eyes and sharply reopening them I push myself forwards, watching Ellie beginning to get emotional, I think I heard her saying 'no' and 'I know this boy.' Both of these caused my blood to run just that much colder.

I trek towards the body with false confidence, keeping my eyes trained on the body. I can see figures of the D.I. and Ellie having a slight confrontation in my peripheral vision, but I pay them no mind as I spot the body of Danny Latimer lying in the cold sand.

I then look up when I hear an all too familiar accent and tone. The buried feeling of longing resurfacing as the voice awakens old memories.

"Shut it down. You're working a case now!" His voice was serious and his accent Scottish, I finally look up to see his face. He luckily hasn't seen me yet, but seeing him causes my striding over there to hesitate greatly as I feel my facade of confidence crumbling in mere seconds.

He introduced himself to Ellie but I care not about that, all I can focus on is the face of my best friend, Alec Hardy. Luckily they are talking about Danny, him turning around as Ellie identifies the body, Alec turning around as he learns this information. The sickening feeling in my gut is only growing in this whole situation, but I push myself forward. I've got a crime to solve now and I can't let past personal experience interfere with that.

I walk forwards, my feet feeling heavy, the type of heavy like when your boots are filled with water that can never be emptied. I only stop when I reach Ellie, trying to stay out of Alec's view.

"Ellie? Is that who I think it is?" My question rang through the tense air, my voice soft and accent not as noticeable. Ellie jumped in fright before realizing it's me.

"How bad are the uniforms at keeping civilians out of a crime scene?!" Alec exclaims in anger, luckily not looking at me yet.

"They're not that bad, seeing as I'm no civilian Alec." I state. Ellie looks at me in surprise and confusion as I call our new D.I. by his first name. Even he freezes at my tense greeting, almost as if having a moment of realization at hearing my voice. He slowly turns to see my face, the face of his missing best friend, the face of a person he desperately longed for though thought he would never see again.

"Elswyth?" His soft yet gruff voice is full of longing and questioning. His eyes seemingly darkening in sadness as he remembers our past together. Sadly we don't get long to remember as I hear the sound of someone who is not going to take this situation well at all, Beth Latimer.

"Oh, God, who's that?" Alec questions as he shifts his gaze to the distraught mother.

Ellie and I both looked as well with wide eyes, seeing one of our closest friends and mother to the now deceased Danny. We both glance at each other before stumbling forwards, holding our arms out to catch Beth before she can reach Danny. Ellie is telling her she can't be here, but my only focus is to keep her from reaching Danny. I grab her, struggling as she pulls me slightly forward, Alec grabbing her too until the uniforms finally rush over and drag her back, Beth fighting violently as she screams about how those are Danny's trainers, screaming both of our names in despair.

I quickly look away, stumbling backwards slightly, this is all wrong, it's happening all over again. I feel as though I'm going to collapse and be sick when two strong arms grasp me quickly, holding me against their chest as comforting words are spoken quietly. I recognize him, his smell and touch are the same even after not seeing him for so long. He turns me around, as I rest my head against him, his arms wrapped tightly around me as we both understand how this is affecting each other.

After a few more moments I push away from him, I can't let Ellie see this, she would quickly catch on to what happened in my past, and I don't want her hating me like how she loathes Alec. He looks at me as I stumble back again, reaching out to steady me but I push his hands away, he stops immediately, looking down slightly and lowering his hand at my rejection. I can't stand looking at him sad, so instead I turn to Ellie, her hands against her forehead at the despair of Beth. I quickly pull her into a hug, I know this is going to be one of the worst experiences of her life, and I have to be there to make sure it doesn't end up how my case did.

——————————

We're walking along the cliffs, the tape now blocking the edge. We all walk through the y'all grass, I cross my arms across my body as a form of comfort, the waves below splashing loudly.

"They let people walk along here, no safety barriers?" Alec questions, his tone confused as to why.

"It's the coastal path, people know to be careful." Ellie responds simply, all of us continuing to trudge through the tall grass.

"It's a death trap." Alec states as he looks behind us then back around. I give a small, almost nonexistent smile at how blunt he still is, hopefully he doesn't realize how much I've missed his rudely blunt and socially awkward personality.

We continue walking, finally running into SOCO at the crime scene.

"How's it going?" Alec asks as we stop to speak with Brian.

"Well, from what we've got up here, sir, it's looking like the rockfall around the body was faked." Brian responded solemnly. My eyes going dark as I now know for sure that this is a murder.

"What do you mean?" Ellie questions. I hold in my sigh of annoyance as I remember that I can't be mad, this is after all her first murder, as well as this town's first murder; I'm going to have to be patient for Ellie. Brian continues to talk but I feel my mind wandering elsewhere as I examine the area in my head, already having seen that there was no proof Danny was even up here, I then begin to think of all possible suspects, the family are always suspects at first, as well as anyone he might've seen on a day to day basis.

I don't even realize we're leaving until I hear my name being yelled, "Els! Let's go!" I quickly look over to see Alec glance over at my frozen form before walking down the path and Ellie waving me over before following Alec. I quickly run over to catch up, hearing Alec telling Ellie to get the pathologist to hurry up even if it's preliminary. I walk a few feet behind them both, my head looking down at the steps until I hear a sharp yell that grabs my attention.

"D.S. Miller! D.S. Carlisle!"

"Who's that?" Alec questions Ellie as to why someone is shouting our names. I look up to see the one and only obnoxious reporter, Olly Stevens. I push in between them, pushing both of them forwards faster.

"Just keep walking." Ellie sighs as she picks up the pace.

"Ellie! Els!" Olly shouts as if we're best buds.

"He seems to know both of you." Alec states, albeit a little bitterly as he looks at me. I roll my eyes knowing exactly what he's thinking.

"Auntie Ellie! Auntie Els!"

"No no no, don't pull that bullshit Olly." I angrily snarl as I continue walking, now leaving the other two behind as I head to my car.

"I told you, don't do that!" I hear Ellie practically growl at him in annoyance. I ignore them as I go to open my door, looking back to see Alec scowl and release a disgusted sound when hearing Olly works for the Broadchurch Echo. I smile slightly at that scowl upon his face, it makes me remember back to when I would call him Hardy when we were younger and he would scowl in annoyance before returning the favor and calling me Carlisle. I realize what I'm doing and wipe the smile off my face, slipping into my old Alfa Romeo and waiting for Ellie to leave, hearing bits of their conversation and how they're not giving statements.

Olly, seeming to not have any luck with them, instead rushes over to my car.

"Auntie Els, I heard there was a body?"

"Don't pull that shit Oliver, we're not giving statements right now, and you are not allowed to speculate. Now shut it and wait till we give a proper statement." Feeling pissed I slam my door, harshly shifting gears before I speed off to follow Ellie to the Latimer house.

——————————

We all exit our vehicles, Ellie looking a little confused and perturbed. Alec must've told her to tell him if the family we're acting odd. I understand why she's acting like that, but she needs to understand that right now everybody's a suspect. Ellie walks up to the doors first, Alec hangs back and pulls me aside.

"Els, I know this case is bringing up bad memories, if you want to hang back in the cars I understand." Alec states, his normally rough Scottish voice now quiet and concerned. I smile slightly, resting my hand against his shoulder as he looks at my eyes.

"I would love to take up that offer, but this is Ellie's first homicide, and I can't let her face that with you, I know you understand what you're doing, but Ellie won't listen to you, she needs me there to guide her." I pat his chest before walking up to the door, Mark answering it. A flash of uncertainty streaming across his eyes as he greets Alec, Ellie, and myself.

We enter their home, meeting the whole family in the living room. Beth standing up, anxious and restless as she already knows why we're here. Her daughter Chloe, gazing up at me as if begging me to tell them it's not Danny. I look away, the ground becoming my sole focus as they take their seats.

"Hi I'm Detective Inspector Alec Hardy, and I believe you know D.S. Miller and D.S. Carlisle" Alec introduces, inviting them to sit down as he grabs me and himself a chair. We all sit down, the whole family distraught, Ellie barely keeping it together, and Alec being the one forced to keep it together. I'm simply there, I'm there for Ellie and the family, and now I'm also here to make sure that Alec is alright as well.

"The body of a young boy was found..." Alec starts before Beth interrupts, being hushed by Mark before he tells Alec to continue.

"We believe it's Danny's body." Alec states.

Beth looks over at us as she breaks down, "Please Ellie, Elspeth... Was it him?" Beth's question destroys Ellie, she looks over at me before nodding in confirmation to Beth. Beth breaking down even more now, Ellie being unable to hold in some of her tears.

The whole family shudders, the dread of the situation amplifies as everyone cries and Mark attempts to keep it together and hold the family.

I have a feeling of complete emptiness, this is the second murder of a child I have to investigate where I know the family personally, and this is going to be the one to destroy what was left of my shattered soul. My hands shake slightly, and Alec discreetly reaches over to hold them, running his thumb over the top of my hand to calm me down whilst still keeping an eye on the family's reaction. I knew this case was hitting close to home for him as well, so I attempted to soothe him as well, squeezing his hands in thanks and comfort.

Ch.2 Ch.4

David Bowie: Sun Rays to Rainy Days

Imagine not liking David Bowie, and running into him during your stay in New York:

David Bowie, an amazing musician and actor, but also my worst enemy.

Why? Let's just say he said some not so flattering things about me to the press and wrote a not so flattering song that criticized pretty much my entire life. We haven't even met in real life, so I'm not sure where he gets off on the idea that anything he says about me holds meaning or truth.

I just really want to ask him what prompted him to write and say such cruel things about me, but I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Y/N L/N, and I'm an American musician, my genres include hard rock, punk, alternative rock, and art rock; I would say I'm a fairly famous musician in the US and across Europe.

———————

The sky was unrealistically blue this early New York morning, like God had woken up and decided that only the bluest of blue would do today.

Most people enjoy blue skies, but being raised in California makes you either adore or detest them with an undying passion. I personally love rainy weather, so this day is already starting off on the wrong foot.

Checking the clock I sigh in wariness, already feeling tired even though I just woke up. I've been feeling anxious every time I wake up, this only started earlier this year due to the fact that a certain idol of mine has been voicing their negative opinion on me.

I'd normally brush it off and say 'fuck them', but this is David Bowie we're talking about. I love his music, I love his story, most importantly how he went through so many hardships yet still pushed forward.

Now I just regret ever thinking any of this was a good idea, sure all the money is nice, but all my relationships fell through. They started expecting me to pay for everything, wanting me to take them on expensive vacations and get them expensive gifts; now my idol feels the need to hate me as well? Just great.

I'm shook from my thoughts by the stern but smooth voice of my manager. He's a nice man, kind of reminds me of my father in his overall outward aura of professionalism, but a sharp streak of eccentricity shows when you really get to know him.

"Y/N, you've got an interview at 5, that should give you a couple of hours to wander around. Please keep your disguise on this time, I don't need a repeat of London." My manager exclaims with a humorous smile, my face burning in embarrassment at the memory of London. I had been wandering the streets and stupidly decided that it was late enough that no one would be able to recognize me, also being naive and believing I wasn't famous enough to be recognized yet ... Oh how wrong I was. The crowd that formed filled up the streets, I was newly famous, so I didn't expect anyone to recognize me, but the world felt the need to prove me wrong.

"No need to worry, I learned my lesson." I smile sheepishly, he softly pats my shoulder before leaving my hotel room.

Glancing in the mirror I swiftly start fixing my hair and checking my outfit, my mind wandering to my plans. I'm meeting an interviewer today, he's supposed to be a bit of an aggressive one, a little rude from what I've seen, and no questions are out of bounds.

To say I'm a little nervous is an understatement, this is the first interview I've accepted in my 3 years of stardom, so I'm sure he'll be extra aggressive in order to get as many details as possible. I just hope he doesn't bring up the conflict with Bowie, because I really don't have a reason as to how that even started.

———————

My day hasn't actually been that bad, no one has recognized me, so I just got to spend the day as a normal person. I moseyed along the sidewalks, just taking in the hectic environment that is New York. I've been walking around for quite a bit now, stopping in some stores and looking for interesting books to read in my off-time.

I've just bought a sketchbook and some pens when I notice some people that set me on edge. They're about 10 feet away from me, and they're giving me the "is that who I think it is" look. I gulp stiffly as a nervous chill passes down my spine, quickly thanking the cashier as I grab my things and stumble out of the store.

Looking back I can see them follow me, one of them shouting out to me.

"Are you Y/N L/N?" My throat tightens up, I look around frantically, and my fears seem to be coming true. The people on the crowded sidewalks immediately turn their heads at hearing my name. I can see some look for a little, clearly being confused before seeing through my disguise and noticing that it is me.

People start rushing forward, holding out things and excitedly asking for an autograph, something that I usually oblige to, but I am currently in a New York street with no security and no cellphone.

I'm being surrounded, some people are grabbing my shoulders, some pulling on the sleeves of my jacket in the hopes of gaining my attention. All it does is make me frightened, the London event gave me a permanent fear of crowds. I can feel myself start to hyperventilate, all the shouts are turning into one sound, it's so loud yet so quiet at the same time.

My mind is so distorted that I don't even notice I've been running, shoving my way out and being dreadfully aware of how they chase me. Camera flashes are coming from every direction, as are new people fanatically asking for an autograph or a picture; it's all so scary. Why do these people chase me? Why do they swarm around me to get some ink lines on a piece of paper? Why?

I turn a corner in hopes of slickly escaping, but suddenly find myself on the floor, having run into a rather solid chest. I exclaim an apology as I messily stand up, trying to make a run for it, but the person already has a hold on my arms to stop my escape.

"Hold on darling, what are you running from?" I recognize that voice, I look up and want to gasp in both surprise and fear, but the reappearance of the crowd stops me.

"That." I state, staring at the crowd and beginning to hyperventilate again, but I'm stopped when I find myself being swiftly dragged away. I have a hard time keeping up, he is about 5 inches taller than me after all, so he's like one step to every two of mine.

I don't know where he's taking me at first, but when I see the awaiting limo I find myself rushing forward in a burst of speed; dragging him next to me.

He does slap my hand away from the door before opening it and ushering me in before entering.

"Hello John, can you get us out of here." His accented tone is stressed, but still maintains an air of control. I used to love that voice, but now it makes me uncomfortable being so close to him and having to hear him in real life.

I move away from him, pushing myself up against the opposite door and looking at anything but him. The crowd was about 3 yards away when the limo screeched forward, my body finally releasing some of its rigidity as I see them disappear the longer we drive.

I close my eyes, leaning back in my seat as the exhaustion sweeps through me. I rest my hand against my forehead in frustration, in the next hour, all of New York will know I was spotted here and come looking for me. How am I supposed to get in contact with my manager, I don't have a cell, and I can't go asking strangers to borrow theirs.

My mind wants to continue its frustrated tirade, but I am startled out of it by a large hand softly tapping my shoulder. I look over and see a curious David Bowie, offering me a sheepish smile at having distracted me.

"Allo luv." His lovely voice politely rings through the car, I almost want to ask him if he'll write a song with me, but then the harsh reality of everything he's said smacks me in the face.

"Don't call me that." I didn't snap, but my voice was stern, letting him know that this is going to be a tense conversation. His smile falters, clearly not used to being met with such disdain.

"Well... What did you do to get that crowd chasing you?" He brushes off our tense beginning, clearly still curious as to why I was being chased. I glance into his calming eyes and realize he doesn't recognize me, or at least that's what I'm assuming. If he did recognize me, I doubt he would've ushered me into his limo so quickly.

"I don't think we've been formally introduced. My name is Y/N L/N." He raises his eyebrows in surprise at my sudden words, but his face is now cautious, looking at me as though I've just lied straight to his face. Sighing in irritation I pull off my gray fedora and sunglasses before gently removing my wig to show my short hair. He sits back in shock, facing away from me as his eyes fall to his hands.

"... Oh." The car falls back into silence, he clearly doesn't know how to respond. I roll my eyes as I shove the wig into my handbag, hooking the glasses to my shirt before replacing the hat back upon my head. I feel slightly flustered at being saved by him, I should at least thank him, but I think that can wait until I get out of the car.

"...Um. Where would you like me to go, sir?" David looks startled from his haze, quickly glancing to me before back to his driver. He's about to speak when a loud noise startles everyone in the car, closely followed by the sharp hits of water on the windshield. I immediately look out the window, being met with the unexpected view of storm clouds completely filling the once blue sky. I want to smile, I love rain and thunder, but I have no idea what my address is, and I am certainly not dressed for the rain.

"What? Don't like rain Mrs.L/N?" David's irritatingly attractive voice grabs my attention. I look over to him before back to the rain.

"No.. I actually love the rain, and it's Miss, not Mrs." I respond, watching as the rain drops drizzle down the windows. The people on the streets hurriedly running for cover, seemingly as surprised by the rain as I am.

"Drop me off on that street corner, I'll find my way home from there." I say, not looking at David or the driver.

"What do you mean you'll find your way home? Don't you know your address?" David's voice is clearly distressed at the thought of just dropping me off on the corner of a random street. It's my turn to sheepishly smile, scratching the back of my head as I shake my head 'no'. The driver pulls the car over, coming to halt on a quiet street.

I reach my hand over to the handle, but I'm interrupted by David grabbing arm, his grasp gently but firm. His looks so concerned that I almost pity him.

"Don't go, at least let me drop you off at a restaurant or something... " His sentence drops off at the end, clearly hoping I'll give in, but I am in no mood to deal with any of this today. I pull myself from his grasp, opening the door and stepping out; the cold rain sends a refreshing chill down my spine. I turn away, readjusting my hat and bag, much too busy to notice David getting out after me.

"It's much too cold for you out here darling. Let me drop you somewhere safer than this at least." I can tell he's getting desperate at this point, but it really only makes me angry. How dare he say these things to me after bad mouthing me.

"How dare you act like you care about me." My words are unexpected to both of us, I didn't mean to speak my thoughts, but I guess I can't stop now. I turn around and face him, having to look up at his face due to the unfair height difference.

"You say the most awful things about me to the press, you make fun of my music, then you make fun of my life choices? Now you stand here acting all worried about my well-being?" My voice is equally as distressed as his expression, he clearly wasn't expecting my aggressive response. I take a step forward into his personal space, poking my pointer finger harshly against his chest as I glare into his eyes.

"You were one of the people I looked up to. We had never even met when I randomly heard you say I was some whore who somehow worked her way up to the top." My words are slurring, and my eyes are burning a bit. I don't know why I'm getting so emotional, maybe it's because I was so heartbroken at hearing him kick dirt on my name, or maybe it's because I stupidly gave his opinion a place in my mind.

I didn't even notice that my tears had escaped my eyes and were carving paths down my face until he brought his hands up to cup my jaw. His touch was so gentle as he wiped away my tears, so excessively tender I started to think I was made of thin glass that could be snapped in half.

"I was scared... I was scared, okay? And I know that's not an excuse, and I am sorry." His tone feels rushed yet hesitant, like he doesn't want me to even think about running off. I look straight into his eyes, finally seeing the guilt coursing through them in waves.

"Scared? Of what?" I'm so confused, why would he ever be scared of me? I was only barely a celebrity when he said those remarks, I was no threat.

"You... God, I was scared of you Y/N. You and your lovely young face, with your beautiful voice." He smiles, almost as though finally coming to a realization. I want to speak, but he continues.

"You came out of nowhere and took the world for a spin, I know you don't think you're very famous, but the entire world knows your name darling. You did that in such a small amount of time, I couldn't help but feel I would be forgotten. I know that it is a selfish thing to do, but I promise I'll make it right." I still feel unsure,

"How can I ever trust you, I admired you and you shoved that in my face." I back up and away from him, my arms wrapping around my body in search of both comfort and warmth.

"Well, I guess you'll only know if you give me the chance." His expression is so vulnerable and honest, his hair falling slightly into his face as he tilts his head down towards mine.

"Please, darling... Come with me, let me show you I'm not the awful prick you think I am." His surprisingly warm hands enclose around mine, their warmth causing the rest of my body to shiver, finally acknowledging the fact that we've been letting the rain drench our bodies for about 7 minutes now.

All I can do is nod my head as he brings an arm around my shoulders, quickly leading me back to the awaiting car. Helping me first before following after. I shiver weakly, David notices and has our driver turn the heat up, but we both know it'll do very little.

"Oh I'm sorry darling, let me take you back to mine and we'll get you a fresh change of clothes." I don't know why I'm suddenly so quiet, but all I can really do in response is nod my head. I take my wet hat off, tossing it down near my feet before once again wrapping my arms around myself.

———————

David Bowie's POV:

Oh, she looks so small all hunched over and wrapped in herself. I still feel guilty about what I'd said about her, I had no right making any of those claims, it was disgustingly immature what I did. All I know is that I need to make it up to her.

I must admit that I didn't expect to meet her today, I didn't even know she lived in New York.

"Do you live here Y/N? Maybe we could go to yours instead if you prefer?"

"No, I've been in a hotel, only got here 2 days ago and never made the effort to remember it's name." Ah, well, that's good to know. Looking back over to her I see her still shivering, clearly the heater is doing nothing for her. I shrug off my wet coat and shove it to the side before shifting closer to her and wrapping her up in my arms. Her body stiffens at the contact, but I can tell my body warmth is attractive to her from the way she pushes into me.

"Is this alright, love?" I don't know why I keep calling her these pet names, maybe it's because I like making her flustered. I feel her nod her head 'yes', I smile as I rest my head lightly atop hers. We stay like that until we stop in front of my hotel.

Grabbing my jacket I quickly wrap it around her small form, she opens her mouth to protest, but I silence her with my stern gaze. I swipe her hat from her hands and carefully place it atop her head, giving her a gentle smile before hopping out of the car helping her out.

We rush through the rain, laughing as we go, I hold the door open and usher her inside. We look so messy and out of place in this fancy hotel, but I ignore the looks we get, instead opting to gaze adoringly at this spit-fire of a woman I have on my arm. As we get in the elevator and wait for my floor she starts to shrug off my coat, but I quickly grab it and pull it back onto her shoulders.

"Don't, it looks better on you anyways." She drops her head down as she blushes, I can't believe I somehow got her to go from hating me to blushing at my compliments, all I know is that I want to compliment and make her blush for the rest of my life.

I step back from her as the elevator doors open, resting my hand on Y/N's back as I walk her in the direction of my room. The poor girl is still shivering, I hope she finds my clothes to be to her liking.

———————

Y/N's POV:

I'm still trying to wrap my head around how this man, this man who made me feel like absolute shit, now offers me his jacket and compliments that make my face blush a deep rose. I hope this is real, I don't think I can go back to hating him after all of this.

I'm dragged out of my thoughts by him gently pulling me into his room. Carefully slipping off the thick wet coat and hanging it up before turning back to me.

"Alright luv, I'll take you to my room and you can pick the clothes." His voice, God, his voice. I hate to admit it, but hearing his accent in-person just makes him even more attractive. All I can offer him is a gentle nod, his lips turning up into a sweet smile and he grabs my hand, leading me to his room. Opening the closet I see a wide array of clothes, ranging from incredibly posh to walk-out-of-bed to get a glass of milk clothes, I can't help but blush at the thought of him just lazily getting out of bed in the middle of the night for a midnight snack.

"What are you blushing at?" His tone is teasing as he gives me a humorous grin, his shoulder playfully bumping against my own. I can only shake my head in embarrassment as I glance away from him and back to the wardrobe.

"Oh, I can't pick... You choose." I suddenly state, backing up and softly pushing him forward. He seems generally surprised by what I say, but shakes it off as he now thinks about his new task. He rests against the wall and looks at me for a minute or so, just running his eyes across me in an oddly calculating way. He sharply turns away from me and starts rifling through his closet, searching for the perfect clothes, but suddenly stops and turns back to me.

"Don't you have an interview today?" My eyes widened in shock, how could I have forgotten. I glance towards the clock on his bedside table, my interview is in 30 minutes.

"It's in 30 minutes! What am I supposed to do?" I want to cry, this interview is very important publicity for my upcoming album. My eyes burn with tears of frustration, but I find myself distracted by the warm embrace of David, it's oddly comforting.

"Now don't you worry about the clothes, I'll pick something out while you go call your manager and get the address for your interview." He states, pulling back and looking at me reassuringly.

"What do you mean? My manager will never let me go on unless everything is perfect." I don't mean to argue, but I know my manager is a perfectionist, and will surely yell my ear off for putting myself in this position.

"Darling, either you go with what you have, or you miss the interview." I open my mouth in a weak attempt to argue, but I stop, knowing he's right. I nod my head and rush to the phone, hoping David chooses those clothes quickly.

I messily dial up my manager, and as soon as they pick up, I can sense their rush of concern.

"Honey where have you been? Your interview is in less than 30 minutes!" His usually calm tone is higher as he clearly has been worried about my whereabouts.

"I know I know, and I'm so sorry I didn't call sooner. I just... I was out, and people recognized m-" I get cut off before I can finish my sentence.

"They what! Did you take off your disguise?" He sounds so worried, I feel really guilty at making him feel this way, but I would rather I tell him than have him find out via the news.

"No, people saw through it!"

"Well, are you okay? I know how you get in crowds, did you make it out alright?" The worry and concern emanating through his voice lets me know he really wants to give me a hug, and he probably needs one too. I remember the fear and concern when he had to get me out of that London crowd, gosh he was more scared than I was.

"I'm surprisingly alright, but that's really only because I got saved." I say quietly, I leave out the fact that David Bowie saved me because I don't know how my manager will react. He was there with me when David said I was a whore to the press, so I'm not sure that he'll be as quick to forgive him as I was.

"Saved? By who?" His voice suddenly goes from concern to curiosity, oh I hope he doesn't scream when I bring David with me.

"I'll introduce you both at the interview... On that note, can you tell me the address, I promise I'll be there on time."

"Alright Y/N, just please stop giving me heart attacks." This last sentence is humorous, yet completely serious at the same time. I can hear the sincerity, and I hope that I never put him through this again.

"I promise nothing." I reply sassily, writing down the address he tells me. I turn and hurriedly walk back to David's room, accidentally running into him and falling back to the floor. I glance up in surprise as he does the same to me, I can't help but be taken back to the same scenario that happened earlier today.

"I think we've been here before darling." David laughs as I smile humorously at the situation. He offers his hand and pulls me up with a little too much strength, resulting in me falling against his chest. I can feel myself blush furiously as I go to push myself away from him, but find myself trapped by his arms encircling my waist.

He holds me there for a few moments before gently releasing me and motioning to the clothes on his bed. I don't even spare them a glance as I grab them and walk into the bathroom, changing swiftly before looking at myself in the mirror. I was in one of his blue dress shirts with some fancy brown shoes, and some straight legged ivory pants. Everything is big on me, and I feel overdressed, I usually don't care how I look, and dress in a t-shirt, jeans; but David really has me dressing up.

I hesitantly open the bathroom door with my eyes on the floor, hearing David hurriedly stand from his spot on the bed. We stand in silence for about a minute, and I go to shy away from him, but he steps forward and holds me in place.

"I look such a mess don't I? I-" I criticize my appearance, but he gently cuts me off.

"I like seeing you in my clothes." His voice is just above a whisper, and he sounds so attractively honest that I glance up from my shoes and to his face. I immediately notice that we are only a few inches away from one another, and I can't help but look away from him.

I turn back to say something when his hand suddenly reaches up to cup my face, instantly grabbing my attention. I look at him, noticing how adoringly he gazes into my eyes, and I can't help but close my eyes. His lips gently graze my own, he seems to hold back meeting me fully, assumingly afraid of how I react. To stop his assumptions I lean forward and meet his retreating form, himself immediately responding.

We pull back, and I shyly look to the side, seeing him smile in my peripheral vision as he leans down and softly kisses my cheek. My blush comes back with a vengeance, and I can hear him chuckle at the way I respond to him. We pull apart slightly, he offers me a warm smile before checking the time.

"Oh, we better get going, love. We have about 10 minutes to get there, and it's a 5 minute drive." I nod my head, allowing him to hold my hand as we walk out of his room.

———————

Arriving at the interview I wait in anxiousness as David walks around the car and opens the door for me, holding my hand delicately as we walk towards the building. We suddenly stop as he looks towards me and then himself, releasing my hand as he starts to take off his coat.

I go to object, but he pays it no mind, holding it out for me, and helping slip it on. I can't help but feel so in-love at the moment, and it's funny because he's the last person I thought would be treating me like this.

"You look good, I think I want to see you in my shirts more often." His voice is so charming and natural as the cheeky sentence slips out. He said it so normally, but he knows how it leaves me speechless, a smirk appearing on his handsome features as he leads me into the building.