Girl The Way I RAN When I Saw You Asking For Requests As A Break From A Knowing Look!!! If Youre Down

girl the way i RAN when i saw you asking for requests as a break from a knowing look!!! if youre down to maybe do something like hurt comfort vibes? with sebastian x MC? like mayhaps they’re fighting and MC gets hurt and protective Sebastian comes out? literally in love with everything you’ve written!!! you’re amazing! <3

I was meant to write a drabble but somehow this became a NOVEL?! Good lord. I really wanted to do it justice!!! I hope you guys still enjoy it!!!

It takes a disaster

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Word Count: 5k Contains: Fluff, angst, making out!!! Requested: The lovely @ithinkweallsing and @musicbecky had similar requests about protective Seb x hurt MC so I combined both :)

Summary:

“And why didn’t you think to tell me that you were struck by a bloody unforgivable curse before you fell lifelessly onto the fucking floor!” He yelled. She winced at the loudness of his voice.  “Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch the love of your life almost die in your fucking arms?” His deafening voice echoed through the chambers of the hospital wing.  She stared at him, mouth agape.  Sorry, was she dreaming? What was that he just said? 

It takes a disaster

When she first resigned to the pitiful fact that she was very likely in love with Sebastian Sallow, she accepted her fate. Doomed to suffer in an unrequited love she held for her best friend. 

Merlin, it was such a cliché. 

Honestly, she would have laughed at herself if it didn’t also feel so pathetically miserable.

Somewhere along the way, amid catacombs and restricted sections and ancient relics, she found herself becoming dissatisfied with just friendship. And before she could even catch herself, she had already fallen. Buried ten feet underground by the weight of her own despicable, cavernous feelings. 

Because they’d been best friends for long enough for her to know that Sebastian Sallow flirted like his livelihood depended on it. If courting witches was a sport, he’d be a professional. It came to him as naturally as breathing. 

That was why Cressida Blume battered her eyelashes so feverishly everytime he was near. And why Samantha Dale had been so Goddamn adamant on being her potions partner, so she could siphon hints on how best to charm the Slytherin for herself.

And why she would never entertain the idea that any of Sebastian’s pretty words could be anything more than lip service. 

So she went out of her way to find reasons to keep herself busy. Taking jobs and doing favours for townsfolk in the vicinity, so that she wouldn’t have to sit with her own feelings. Or Sebastian himself. Hoping that by the time it came for them to leave Hogwarts, that she would find peace and leave her feelings for him in the deepest depths of the castle. 

The distance would help. It just had to. 

Unfortunately for her, when she had said that she was heading to the poacher camp up in the Poidsear coast by her lonesome, Sebastian insisted that he absolutely had to come along.

“Don’t be daft. Of course I have to come with you. Who else is going to swoop in when your sorry arse needs saving?” He teased.

She was almost offended, “I don’t need a babysitter, Sebastian.”

“Not a babysitter,” he clarified, “A knight in shining armor,” with a dashingly flirtatious smile.

She felt her heart flutter, and cursed his annoyingly perfect fluffy hair for it. What business did it have looking so attractive? Honestly, the cheek of these Slytherin boys to say such rousing things.

Ominis, Sebastian and herself had been lazing in the grass in front of the main school grounds. But with a deft wave of his hand Seastian beckoned over his broom, and it zipped obediently over. 

“Come on. Let’s go.” Sebastian said easily.

“What? Right now?” She replied in disbelief.

“Well, I don’t see anything better to do. Do you?”

From beside him, Ominis piped up annoyed, “Um, excuse me. Did we not agree that we needed to finish our group project today so as to not suffer the wrath of Sharp’s horrid temper?”

Silently, she thanked Ominis for the diversion and prayed Sebastian would take it.

“Like I said. Nothing better to do.” Sebastian reiterated shamelessly. 

Ominis rolled his eyes, “Absolute moron you are. Whatever. Take him off my hands for all I care.”

Well that didn’t go at all the way she hoped.

“But I’ve… not even stocked up on my potions.” She said weakly.

Sebastian wasn’t having it.

“Come on, it’s just a routine poacher clear out! I’ve got a couple of Wiggenwelds on me. You know it’s going to be a cakewalk for the both of us.” 

She could never say no to him. Not when he looked at her like that. She imagined that most girls couldn’t either. An ugly, decrepit feeling bubbled up in the pit of her stomach. But she willed herself to push the unhelpful thought down and out of sight. 

“Fine.” She caved with a haughty flip of her hair, “But try to keep up. I don’t want to have to take care of you out there.”

In a ridiculously exaggerated display of chivalry, he offered her his hand and led her onto the broom with a coy smile.

“Ladies first.”

This boy was going to be the death of her. The ride to Poidsear would all but confirm that. 

Sebastian had insisted that she sit in front of him to steer — and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand how she had willingly agreed to put herself in this position. His breath was right in the crook of her neck, and his warm hands were wrapped all too tightly around her waist. Did he really think that she could steer like this? She was appalled at how totally inconsiderate he was by being so oblivious to her feelings. 

She could hardly hear her own thoughts — not even the intrusive ones — let alone focus on the fly.

Was he doing this on purpose? Because it was annoying.

The singularly, most vexing thing he could do in fact. She had a mission to concentrate on. She didn’t need to be sidetracked. She hadn’t even wanted him and his distracting face to come along in the first place.

“Merlin. Hold me any tighter and I might burst, Sebastian.” She tried her best to make it sound casual. With the light cadence of a joke, and not the high stakes affair it felt like.

“Well, I can’t risk having you falling to an untimely death under my watch. I’d never hear the end of it from Ominis. Or Samantha. For killing her potions partner at such a crucial time in the academic year,” He joked. 

His tone was teasing, but she hated that his words sounded so… carefree. Completely unbothered. It bruised her heart more than she liked to admit, but it hurt her to know that he probably thought that this was the same as being in close proximity to Anne. 

And why the bloody hell did he have to mention Samantha Dale at a time like this? Unprompted and all. Teenage boys really had no tact. If that had been a glimpse into Sebastian’s mind, she didn’t want to see it. Lock it up and throw away the keys and unleash it into the depths of the black sea to never be found. 

If she just ignored it, and never faced it head on, maybe her heart would break a little bit softer. 

“Right.” She replied curtly, willing the dejection she felt to go away.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” 

“No.” 

He paused in contemplation, before declaring, “You’re upset.”

He had said it so matter of factly she almost couldn’t disagree with him. Almost. She cursed herself for not being able to hide the bitterness in her voice better. She cursed him for noticing this of all things.

“Don’t be silly. I’m not.” She retorted harshly.

When the words left her mouth, she quickly regretted them. She felt guilty for how unnecessarily rude it sounded. But she couldn’t talk about this. There was objectively no good way to explain why she seemed so irrationally bothered without emotionally vomiting her feelings onto him.  

But before she could apologise, he chose to let it go. 

And she didn’t know if she felt relieved or even more devastated.

The rest of their journey to Poidsear was endured in silence. When they finally arrived, they landed just at the precipice of the poacher camp. It was time to get serious, she mentally chided herself. There was simply no time to torment herself with such frivolous nonsense.

They kept out of sight behind a mountain of crates next to a tent. Making sure to stay hidden, she briskly surveyed the scene. She could see from the corner of her eye, a family of hippogriffs chained in cages by the Eastern front. But getting to them would be no easy feat; the area was littered with Ashwinders at every corner. 

“God. There’s more of them than I thought.” She whispered to herself.

“Worried? How very unlike you.” Sebastian raised a brow in response.

“Not at all. It’s just you would think that these degenerates would have more productive things to do with themselves than taking magical creatures as prisoners.” She whispered with a scoff.

She had not even one ounce of respect for the Ashwinders, especially those of the poaching variety. Those who made a nefarious career out of hunting innocent, majestic creatures for blood sport were the worst of them.

To her surprise, when she turned to look at Sebastian, he was looking straight at her with an enigmatic smile.

And then suddenly, she felt self-conscious.

“What?” She whispered nervously.

Sebastian murmured warmly, “This is a little nostalgic is it not?”

“How so?”

“You. Me. The exhilarating thrill of getting caught at any moment. Feels like fifth year doesn’t it?” His voice was lower than usual, quieter, with a hint of something dastardly alluring. 

It made her heart skip an alarming amount of beats and her skin shiver at the sound of it. She felt an outrageously girlish impulse to snog him and hex him and run far, far away from him all at once. What she would give for him to have a taste of his own medicine. Even if he wasn’t in love with her, maybe she still could grab him by the collar and kiss him silly until his lips were bruised. 

Maybe that would finally fluster him. 

Because by God, he deserved to be put in his place for all the bloody grief he unknowingly gave her.

He was looking at her so affectionately, and that was just so uncalled for. Honestly, she didn’t know how he managed to flirt so skilfully even in the face of imminent danger. In the near vicinity of bloodthirsty dark wizards. If she wasn’t so conflicted by it all she would be impressed. She imagined that Sebastian Sallow could probably flirt with Death himself and get away with it. 

Perhaps that would be a rather useful quality in an Auror. Perhaps, when they were back in the safety of the castle, she would suggest it as a fitting career path for him—

“Look what we have here. A little far from Hogwarts aren’t we?”

She felt her blood freeze over at the sound of the new voice. Sebastian stiffened. A sinister chill ran up her spine.

When she turned, she was greeted by the menacing smile of an Ashwinder, cloaked in shadows. And almost as if the Hermes had struck her himself, the girl wonder retaliated at reckless speeds and pointed her wand with venomous hostility at the dark wizard in front of them.

Fuck. She cursed internally. Her guard had been irresponsibly down. She hadn’t even heard him approach them.

Sebastian probably sensed her panic, and squeezed her hand twice.

Once to comfort her, the second to ask her to follow his lead.

Raising his hands up in mock surrender, Sebastian said sardonically with a wry smile “Sir, we were just passing by the area. We didn’t know that this was private property. Terribly sorry for the intrusion. If you allow us, we’ll be on our way now.” 

The Ashwinder scoffed, “Save it kid, I know exactly who you two meddlesome brats are.”

“Oh well that’s unfortunate.” Sebastian said patronisingly.

Her grip on her wand tightened. She wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this, but she knew that she had to be ready. 

“Why’s that?” The Ashwinder asked with a laugh.

“Because that means I have to do this.” 

And suddenly, with a swift motion, Sebastian lunged forward with his wand. And almost as if by blind, brazen instinct, her own hands followed suit. 

“Confringo!”

“Expelliarmus!”

“Protego!”

Red, green, and blue. The colours of their spells cackled at lightning speeds against the howling wind. 

But soon enough their commotion caused a ruckus, and it became an army against two measly bodies.

“Shit!” Sebastian cursed under his breath.

And frankly, she had to give it to them to their credit, these Ashwinders proved to be pretty formidable adversaries. They moved faster than the others did. And their spells missed her more narrowly than they normally did. But still, actually hitting her was the aim. Close enough wasn’t good enough, and she was determined to make sure that they would never achieve it. 

She’d make sure of it — they didn’t call her the girl wonder for nothing. 

Spells collided and echoed around her, the acrid scent of fire filling her nostrils. If peril were a smell, this is what she imagined that it would smell like.

And in the midst of the chaos, without a surge of power erupted from one of the Ashwinders. Like a strike straight out of God’s hand — with a single, severe flash of light — a calamitous spell was unleashed, enveloping the camp grounds in a sheathe of blinding white. 

And when the light became less blinding, she found herself separated from Sebastian. 

Panic welled up within her as she searched the battlefield, her heart pounding in her chest. 

"Sebastian!" She called out.

Where was Sebastian?

Fuck. That wasn’t good. She needed to find Sebastian. 

Like insidious tendril vines, fear crept into her veins. Yet she willed the anxiousness in her brain to focus; willed it to calm down. Sebastian was a capable wizard. He could handle a few pesky Ashwinders. 

Just as capable as she was. 

Because with a flick of her wrist, shields shattered and hexes were deflected. With every spell she cast, the wind sang as her curses hit bodies, like a force of nature answering her call. One by one Ashwinders fell under the weight of her unyielding assault. 

But then a piercing hex sliced right through her defences. 

Her protego shattered, and she was thrown backward into a mess of limbs onto the ground. 

“Crucio!”

The sound of the spell sent chills down her spine. It brought her back to the scriptorium. It brought her back to a shadow of Sebastian that she had been trying to forget. 

But before she could run, scream, dive or react — it reached her. 

And just as torturously as it had the very first time she endured it, pain erupted through her body as she was thrown backward, limbs contorting as she crumbled in agony onto gritty soil. Back then, it had felt as if lightning had struck every single nerve ending in her body. This time it felt like she was burning under a flame that was twice as brutal.

The pain was relentless. Her mind screamed for respite, for any brief release from this torture. She clawed at the ground, gripping her nails deep into the dirt, as if seeking solace in the earth itself. But there was no escape. No reprieve.

Through the haze of pain, she caught glimpses of the Ashwinder that had casted the curse. Even through her blurry vision, she could see that they were gloating. Content at how they had reduced her to nothing more than a writhing, broken vessel.

And God, that pissed her off immensely.

If they could sense the literal thunder in her veins, she wondered if they would be so cavalier?

She didn’t think so.

Through gritted teeth; through sheer determination, she struggled onto her feet with her body shaking in defiance. Summoned the last remnants of her ancient magic, her wand trembling in her shaky hand. A surge of energy flowed through her veins. The air above the tips of her fingers crackled with raw power as she channeled her magic, focusing it into a singularly devastating spell.

And when it hit the Ashwinder, it eviscerated them in waves.

In between all the fighting and screaming and surviving, she didn’t remember much of the details.

But all of a sudden, it was silent. 

And all of the sudden, it was just her standing alone in plumes of dust.

When the air finally settled down, she felt herself start to cave. The adrenaline had done its job and was quickly leaking out of her blood stream. As if she had exerted and drained every last ounce of her spirit and was on the verge of collapse.

Was it just her, or were the skies starting to fade?

The pain in her chest was still excruciating. This cruciatus curse felt different from the one that Sebastian had casted on her before. 

This one was lingering. 

Like it was clawing onto her heart and gripping onto it in a chokehold with a resentful vengeance. Despite having just won, she didn’t have a spare moment to feel relieved. The pain was quickly growing and air couldn’t seem to reach her lungs fast enough.       

But Sebastian… Where was Sebastian? The panic began to rumble within her. She had foolishly let her own guard down, and let him out of her sight. She mustered what little energy she had left and moved her head frantically in search of him. 

How could she ever forgive herself if she let him die? 

But when she saw a figure barreling head first towards her, even through blurry eyes and the crackle in the depths of her tired limbs, she knew that it was him. And like an oasis in the blistering desert, the comfort she felt from seeing his face was a brief solace to the pain. 

If this was where she was destined to meet her end, she hazily deliberated, at least she could draw her last breath in peace knowing that he was safe. 

(Not to be dramatic or anything.)

When Sebastian finally caught up to her, he laughed and bursted out breathily, “Merlin… Whatever you and your ancient magic did back there was insane.”

He was safe, and that was all that mattered. She didn’t have the energy anymore. Not for a conversation, let alone banter. She needed to preserve her last scraps of her battered stamina to make it back to the castle and patch herself up in solitude.

And one thing was for certain: Sebastian could not know.

“I think we managed pretty well.” He said with a tired smile.

“Yeah,” she replied breathily, “W-we did good.”

She sounded a mess. She hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

To her dismay, the look on his face immediately switched into that of deep concern. 

He interrogated hurriedly, “What wrong? You sound a little off. Are you hurt?”

Everything was wrong. The discomfort that gripped her chest was getting worse with every passing second. Standing was starting to become too taxing of an undertaking for her. 

But needless to say, she didn’t want another thing to worry about, and Sebastian would always make an unnecessarily big fuss anytime she was hurt. Even if it was just a minuscule scratch. He was always too distraught; too tender. It was one of the things she adored most about him. 

And she absolutely loathed him for it.

So her stubbornness was persuaded that suffering in silence was the easier of two fates. 

Indignantly, she retorted, “How rude. I’ll have you k-know I’m perfectly f-fine.”

Her words were starting to slur, not that she noticed. But Sebastian clearly had. Assertively, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards him.

“You’re not fine.” He declared demandingly.

As he frantically searched her eyes, arms, back, legs for signs of what was wrong, she found herself nuzzled in the nook of his chest. She felt her willpower wither slightly in his flustered hands. 

In the shallow breaths that she took, she could smell him. The musk of pinewood and sputtering fireplaces and late nights drifting in the restricted section. An aromatic cocktail that was overwhelmingly intoxicating. 

Now she was getting angry. And drowsy. And dizzy. Why couldn’t Sebastian tell that he was being so selfish by being so considerate? He needed to stop touching her so carelessly. She was lightheaded enough as it is, she didn’t need his excessive gentleness to add fuel to the flames of her absurd delusions. 

But maybe if she just closed her eyes and rested for this brief moment. Sebastian would take the hint and just leave her be. Maybe all she needed was a quick lie down and he would see that she was perfectly fine. 

“Oh fuck, there’s so much blood— hey, hey!”

She could see Sebastian calling out her name, but she couldn't hear it. And soon enough she realised, she wasn’t fighting it anymore. And soon enough, Sebastian was no longer in sight. Soon enough, she found herself alone in a quiet, soothing darkness. 

Something was twisting at her to give into slumber. Into solitude. Into emptiness. She vaguely remembered from one of Sharp’s more riveting lectures that when poisoned - one should always fight the urge.

But she could still feel the warmth of Sebastian’s hands on the small of her back, and the comfort of it lulled her to relinquish control. After a few ambivalent moments, drifting in and out of awareness, she surrendered to sleep.

When she woke, she was greeted by a horrendously pounding headache. She had no sense of place, but a low groaning ache in her bones. Her eyes struggled to open, but she could feel the warm sun on the tip of her nose, and the tips of her cheeks. The softness of the sun quelled a little bit of the soreness in her body. 

She deduced that wherever she was, it was warm and safe. Despite the ache in her bones, there was also a weightlessness to her body. Therefore, she somehow rationalised with herself that this was very likely heaven. 

Or any other religious equivalent afterlife. 

She wasn’t picky. Any one would do, really.

When her bleary eyes finally pulled themselves open, the fragmented parts of her vision pieced together a faint picture. Of pristine white linen and crisply casted grey brick. A peculiar blend of sickly artificial peonies and concentrated chemicals flooded her nostrils. 

Which was odd. Because she hadn’t imagined that the afterlife would feel quite so sterile.

“Fucking hell,” spoke a voice she could never not recognise, and she was shocked. 

Did heaven include conjuring up a phantom Sebastian from the figment of her deepest imaginations to keep her company for the rest of eternity?

“Sebastian?”

“You’re awake.” His voice was hoarse.

When her eyes finally focused, she saw him properly. It was definitely Sebastian Sallow, the boy that had her heart leaping acres across the Hebridean seas. But in all her years of knowing and pining for him, she’d never seen him look so terrible. His hair was disheveled as if it had endured a torrid storm. His eyes were heavy and solemn, as if they had tolerated an eternity of grief.

This seemed all too real. Too visceral. 

Maybe this wasn’t heaven.

“Am I dead?” She thought to confirm.

He laughed a humourless laugh.

“No. You’re in the hospital wing.”

So this was real. She was in pain because her body had been bruised like a peach. 

When she finally looked around, she found herself neatly tucked into the covers of an infirmary bed. She couldn’t recall how she got here, and only remembered a few little scraps of the event that led up to Poidsear. But if she had to be certain of anything, Sebastian must’ve brought her back to the castle.

“I guess that makes sense,” She said with as much mirth as she could muster, “Heaven couldn’t be this quaint.”

Clearly Sebastian hadn’t found it funny at all, which is why she was met with silence. 

As she cleared her throat, she asked, “What happened?”

For some reason, Sebastian was doing everything in his power to avoid her eye. 

“An Ashwinder hit you with a modified version of the cruciatus curse. She tampered the spell and combined it with a blood poisoning hex. You… could’ve died.” He said through gritted teeth. It seemed as if he struggled to even get the words out. 

In an attempt to diffuse the graveness of his tone, she made a joke.

“Unlucky. Maybe next time they try to kill me they’ll actually get it right.”

But once again, Sebastian didn’t laugh. If anything, he only got more aggrieved. She felt his grip on the edge of her bed frame tighten so fiercely, she could see his veins pop and his knuckles turn red. He was being so serious — and she was not at all used to serious Sebastian. She had only seen this side of him once or twice, and only ever because of Anne. 

“Are you … upset?” She asked cautiously.

“I’m fucking furious.” He said. 

She was gobsmacked.

“Why?”

Finally, he looked at her straight on and her stomach flipped at the sight of it. He looked absolutely distraught. Like the splintered shell of a boy who had been cracked open and drained dry of his will to live. Behind the hard look in his eyes, radiated something cloudy, tempestuous and devastating. 

“It was my fault that we were even there.” He said

She hadn’t known that a voice could carry such grief and anger simultaneously. But Sebastian’s voice was laced with insurmountable despair. And it broke her heart irrevocably to think that she could’ve caused him so much pain.

Did he think that he was to blame?

That was ridiculous.

“I thought-” he started to say again, but his voice cracked. 

I thought I lost you? I thought I’d left you for dead? She wondered if that was what he was going to say.

“Sebastian…” She finally began “It’s not-”

“And why didn’t you think to tell me that you were struck by a bloody unforgivable curse before you fell lifelessly onto the fucking floor!” He yelled.

She winced at the loudness of his voice. 

“I didn’t think-”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch the love of your life almost die in your fucking arms?”

His deafening voice echoed through the chambers of the hospital wing. 

She stared at him, mouth agape. 

Sebastian himself looked shocked by the words out of his own mouth. 

Sorry, what was that he just said? 

Was she dreaming? Was she hallucinating? Had Sebastian Sallow really said that he loved her? Her? Complicated, chaotic, haphazard her? Even if her brain couldn’t quite process what she was saying, her heart had certainly understood. It was battering against her ribcage so firmly that she swore it would no sooner burst out of her chest.

“You… love me?” Even as the words sat in her mouth, even as she tasted it meticulously on the edge of her tongue — she still couldn’t believe them. 

With his head buried in his hands, Sebastian groaned. 

Obviously that wasn’t what he had wanted to say, and that terrified the living shit out of her. He looked as if he considered going back on it. Saying that it had just been an emotional slip of the tongue. 

But to her surprise, he stood firm. 

“Fuck.” He cursed, “Isn’t it fucking obvious?”

His words still weren’t fully sinking in. Her brain was running so fast that it was on the verge of failing her entirely. There were so many things she wanted to ask him. Was it obvious? To who exactly? By what egregious definition? And did he expect her to just take his word and say that this little detail was always hidden in plain sight for her to find? 

Then there were other more intrusive thoughts she couldn’t shake. Like what about all the girls that fawned over his every word. What about all the other girls that were softer, prettier, more endearing than her? She just hoped that whatever she chose to say, that she wouldn’t let out the intrusive ones first.

“...What about Samantha?” She blurted practically incoherently.

Oh Merlin. Why did she say that? Why was that the first thing she said to him after she had just been on the verge of death? After he had just confessed his love for her.

Never had she felt so exasperated with herself for being so dumb.

Unsurprisingly, Sebastian looked at her as if she’d just grown three heads. She also considered that maybe she had enunciated so poorly that he hadn’t understood a single thing she said. Either way, just as she was about to laugh it away - change the subject - he responded.

“... What about Samantha?”

Suddenly, she felt too shy to ask. But she knew she had to follow through.

“... You’re not in love with Samantha?” She asked meekly.

Sebastian stared at her in absolute disbelief. 

“Are you crazy?” he began incredulously, “You think I fancy Samantha Dale?”

It wasn’t that crazy of a thought, she wanted to retort. 

But before she could even get a word in, Sebastian bulldozed on.

“Fucking hell. I think I’ve mentioned her name all but three times in the last six years I’ve been in this castle. All I talk about is you all day everyday, which makes Ominis go absolutely livid! All you have to do is say my name and I’d stop everything at the drop of a fucking hat to do literally anything you ask for me—” 

Did he know what he was saying? She wanted to scream. The feelings in her chest were so intense she feared that she might just throw up. 

Could he hear the absolutely ludicrous and inconceivable things coming out of his silly mouth? Did he know what in Salazar’s name he was saying to her? 

And he wasn’t even done yet.

“—I look for you in every hallway, every classroom, every corner in this bloody castle! For Merlin’s sake, I can’t even begin to fathom how you could not know that I’m stupidly love with you—”

Despite herself. Despite the stabbing pain in her chest. Despite the stitches in her lungs. She lunged her body forward and pushed her own chapped, split and desperate lips onto his.

And when their lips met — good God. 

She had no idea how she had waited so long to do this.

And she hoped for his sake that Sebastian hadn’t said any of that lightly, because now that she had finally had him, she was never ever letting him out of her shaky, unpracticed hands. 

At first, Sebastian had been taken aback. His mouth unmoving, eyes open in disbelief. It was as if he was observing the scene from outside of himself.

But then soon enough — he was all in, and he had his hands cupping the curve of her cheek to pull her closer to him. Soon enough, Sebastian was kissing her like he was looking for something. Pushing, pulling, scouring the shape of her mouth like she was a puzzle to be deciphered. Gripping tightly onto the sides of her waist and the small of her back like she was a prized to be possessed.

And she obliged. 

Whatever he wanted to know she’d tell him. If she were a prize, she'd use every cheat every ruse in her arsenal to make sure he'd win.

She just hoped that her needy moans conveyed her willingness to be compliant in his competent hands.

Her limbs ached, her bones groaned. This kiss was too wild, too strenuous, too demanding for her worn out body. But she didn’t care. The floodgates had opened now, whether either of them knew it, and this feeling was unquenchable. 

He tasted like home and aftershave and salt and all those silly peppermint candies he ate all the time. If she could fasten herself to him with an irreversible stitch, she would. If she could seal herself into a perfect mould of his arms, she would. If the shivers that raced down her spine could etch themselves permanently into her nerve endings in her skin, she’d gladly bear the mark.

In between peppered, sloppy kisses, she managed to gasp, "I'm in love with you too."

There was no time for pauses. She had no use for breathing; no use for air. She had no use for anything that didn’t include his lips. 

His laugh was gravelly and tired and breathy. But it was filled with relief and tenderness all the same.

“Thank fucking god,” Sebastian murmured.

Her hands instinctively found their way to his hair, fingers tangling into the strands of his. She revelled in the texture of him. In her daydreams and her undisclosed fantasies, she had always wondered what it would feel like. Would he be as gentle as his charms implied? Or was he as abrasive as his words could be?

But despite his devouring intensity, despite how ardently he consumed her — everything about Sebastian was soft. His lips were soft. His body was soft. His hands were soft.

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back. Which immensely disappointed her. And she wasn’t shy to let it show on her face.

"Be careful. You're still recovering." He managed to get out, but it was weak.

Yes, that was true. It was very lovely and sensible of him to say.

But frankly, she couldn't give two fucks.

"I wouldn't mind dying today," she replied breathlessly, her voice laced heavily with longing.

He groaned into the edge of her mouth, "Way too soon."

She smiled wryly. Was it wicked of her to take delight in how protective he was being?

Silence hung in the air. 

"Please just... just be careful next time?" he said, his voice wavering slightly.

She looked into his eyes, "I will."

With a gentle squeeze of his hand, she hoped that he knew that she truly meant it. That by definition, her feelings for him meant that her assurance was very much real. Because if not with words, she needed him to know through this gesture that she too looked for him in every inch of this castle. That she too would drop everything at his beck and call.  

He squeezed her hand back in return.

Message understood?

“And as much as I’d love to keep kissing you," he whispered with a playful glint in his eye, "I would hate for Nurse Blainey to shun me from the infirmary for so shamelessly accosting one of her patients."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, the tension easing between them. "You're right. We wouldn't want that," she replied, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

—

A/N: This is deffo a little different from the normal soft/simpy Seb that I write. I tried to go for overly flirtatious and wildly charming Seb and a pining MC this time to shake things up!! I still think they're cuties.

Gosh, I hope you guys liked it!! I'M STILL WORKING ON OTHER REQUESTS and of course my bb A Knowing Look! They will be taking a while but I promise I will be putting my heart and soul into them.

xoxo gruff

Sebastian loves like a wildfire.

It only takes a spark, and he's ignited---hungry and desperate, unwavering and uncontrollable. He doesn't care what crosses his path as he loves; he will destroy it. Approaching his flames is a risk, one that is all too worth the burns. It takes fuel to love so recklessly, and you and him will give and give and give until there is nothing left to consume.

Ominis loves like a river.

What starts as a gentle trickle turns into an unstoppable current. The flow, steady and consistent, is his quiet strength. There are times of near stillness, those moments when all seems settled, but the rapids are always waiting around the bend. He is a force---one that takes time, but will cut down mountains.

is it too late to call you mine? | ch 1

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: In Sebastian's prettiest dreams, you'd wear a gown of a color that matched his tie, he'd take your hand and dance all night until morning came. But those dreams felt like a farfetched reality. Would you even consider going with him? As more than a friend?

A/N: This is part one out of two, of my story for @spaceyaceface's HL Writing Challenge. Hope you guys like it, let me know. <3

Masterlist

It was rather magical, how the white blanket of snow covered Hogwarts' grounds—with the arrival of winter, courtyards, towers, and trees alike harbored snowflakes that shone against the sunlight during the day and against the fairy lights scattered around the castle at night.

Despite the gelid wind nipping at your cheeks, you couldn't help but love it.

"Do you know who you'll be going with already?" Poppy walked the viaduct courtyard bridge beside you, hugging the two books she was carrying close to her chest.

You chuckled, glancing down at the way your shoes buried slightly in the thin layer of snow. "No, besides, I don't even know if I will be going at all, Poppy."

"What do you mean? You have to go, the Yule Ball is like one of the most awaited moments for anyone who attends Hogwarts," she reasoned. Then, a sly smirk came to her lips, and she bumped your shoulder with hers, "I'm surprised he hasn't asked you yet."

"Who?" You furrowed your brows.

"Sebastian, of course."

His name brought an instant blush to your cheeks that you tried to blame on the cold wind. You averted your eyes from Poppy, "why would he ask me? We're friends, it would be weird."

The sun had just peeked over the mountains in the distance, it was a cold morning today. The students who walked past you pulled their robes close to their bodies; you thought you heard a fourth-year complain about how far summer was still.

You had a scarf snug around your neck, the colors of your house adorning the fabric and keeping you warm. You thought your peers could learn a thing or two about appreciating the present. How the white of the snow blended with the dark stones of the castle, how the mountains and plains in the distance looked like something out of a painting when the first golden rays of the sun highlighted them.

Poppy pushed open the doors that lead to the central hall and a soft gush of warmth coming from inside enveloped your body and kissed your cold cheeks immediately.

Many Christmas decorations were already adorning each nook and cranny of the castle. You had been ecstatic when you saw Mr. Moon setting up the first big Christmas tree.

"Weird, you say?" Your friend walked ahead of you, the gold and black of her own scarf framing her rosy cheeks as she glanced back at you, "sometimes I wonder if we're talking about the same Slytherin."

Your lips hovered open and your feet stayed glued to the floor, just short of going through the threshold. What could she mean by that?

"See you in Herbology." With a wink, Poppy was walking away from you.

You tried not to dwell on it. Ever since the beginning of your sixth year things had been different between you and Sebastian. Everything you'd gone through together in your fifth year inevitably brought you closer—even more so when, by the end of the year, neither one of you had anyone to go back to. You chose to stay with him and Ominis at school; spending most of your afternoons tucked away in your Room of Requirement as hours went by in a breeze. Sebastian's soul became familiar to yours. There were moments, tiptoeing between the line of friends and something more, hidden behind corners and dimmed by faint candlelights, that felt too delicate to ever be labeled. And now, you still don't know what to call them.

Things became all the more complicated with the impending arrival of the Yule Ball. As if in on a secret, your friends kept teasing you about Sebastian taking you. And you couldn't help but feel somewhat of a pressure. You couldn't help but wish he actually would.

── ·❆· ──

Out of all the classes, Herbology had a special place in your heart. Nothing could beat the atmosphere of the greenhouse. As soon as you walked through the doors and came face to face with that gorgeous pink tree, a wave of calmness hit you instantly. Sunlight came in through the green-tinted glass walls, a slight breeze made the falling leaves rustle around you, and the smell of grass, dirt, and flowers covered your senses.

Snow was falling outside, yet here, it somehow always seemed to be spring.

You slowly walked down the stairs and to your potting table, removing your scarf from around your neck.

Sebastian had already taken his spot right beside you. He had a dark long coat over his uniform and his hair was messier and just slightly longer than usual, you also couldn't help but notice the faint blush under his freckles and on the tip of his nose, from the cold no doubt. You thought it was endearing.

"Well, good morning." His voice kissed your ears.

A smile found itself on your lips pretty quickly, "morning, Sebastian."

"Gotta love Herbology first thing in the morning. Nothing like getting your hands dirty to start the day just right," He mumbled, one finger brushing over the soil in his pot before he turned fully to you, his hip leaning against the table as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You chuckled lightly, gaze focusing somewhere on Sebastian's left shoulder. Poppy's words kept echoing inside your head; I'm surprised he hasn't asked you yet. Without fully realizing it, you left Sebastian without an answer. Your lips hovered open as your eyes turned unfocused the more you lost yourself between what-ifs.

Chocolate brown eyes regarded you with interest, perhaps just a tad too long before he finally spoke; "alright, spill it. What's bothering you?"

You weren't sure how he managed it, this ability to read between the lines when it came to you. You blinked multiple times and softly shook your head, gesturing to dismiss his worry. "Nothing's bothering me."

Sebastian clicked his tongue and took a step closer to you. In a moment of boldness, he reached a hand forward and straightened the lapel of your blazer. "You'll have to do better than that," he raised an eyebrow at you.

If you focused enough, you'd be able to feel the ghost of his words on your lips, count each freckle over his cheeks, that's how close he was. You couldn't breathe even if you tried to. And that's exactly what Sebastian does to you. His fingers may brush your cheek and he may get as close as breathing the same air as you, and yet…

"Humour me," Sebastian shrugged, leaning back against the table and distancing himself from you as if nothing ever happened.

He always pulls back. He gets so close, and yet it feels as if he's afraid to ever go further. Tiptoeing the lines of your relationship, yet never crossing them. Planting feather light kisses on your heart, yet never fully embracing it. He confused you to no end. And you still don't know what to call whatever it was that existed between you and him.

Ultimately, you were beginning to think there was nothing there at all. Sebastian had always been flirty after all.

"I've just been thinking about the Ball," you shrugged too, trying to sound nonchalant as you braced one hand on the table. "If I'll be going, and… with who."

Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek at your words, avoiding his gaze from yours for just a moment before a forced grin came to his lips; "I don't think it's much worth worrying over it, there's better things to do for a night than dancing to boring music. Especially when everyone will be occupied dancing to said music."

His eyes glinted mischievously as he spoke. You half expected him to invite you to sneak into the restricted section of the library again or something of the sort.

"Poppy says I should attend, something about having the full Hogwarts experience," you smiled, choosing to not comment on his slight mood swing, "I may be inclined to agree."

Sebastian only hummed, his brows furrowed as he choose to finally settle his attention on the sorry excuse of a Dittany he'd been growing since last class. "I… hope you find a good partner then."

You allowed your eyes to linger on him until Professor Garlick started speaking. Noticing how his jaw tightened in place and his shoulders became somewhat tense while he reached for the fertilizer.

You couldn't understand why Poppy was so certain Sebastian could ever think of asking you to the Ball.

── ·❆· ──

A mixed smell of freshly made potions hung in the air. Brewed Knotgrass and maybe a pinch of feathers of some kind. Chatter was going around the potions classroom, as it usually did before Professor Sharp arrived.

Sebastian had both elbows resting atop his potions station, slouched in his seat as one of his knees bumped up and down, and with his dark eyes glued to the door. There was a leave of Mallowsweet lazily being torn apart over and over by his fingers as the seconds trickled by.

"Sebastian!"

Something gently slapped the back of his head, bringing the boy back to reality. He hummed questioningly and turned to face Ominis, who sat beside him with a scowl.

"I figured you weren't listening to me when you failed to answer my question for the third time," the blond deadpanned, however with the beginnings of a smirk appearing on his lips. "Has she not arrived yet?"

Heat crept up Sebastian's neck and he straightened in his seat, "who?"

Ominis raised an unimpressed eyebrow at his friend; "you know exactly who I'm talking about."

"Don't," Sebastian mumbled, pushing to the floor the mess he'd made on his table.

"Are you still overthinking whether to ask her or not?" Ominis sighed, resting his elbow on the table so he could lean his head on his hand. "Sometimes I wonder which of us is the blind one."

Sebastian faked a laugh, "very funny, Ominis. I'm not overthinking anything, I've already made up my mind. Plus, I think the Yule Ball is overrated anyway."

Ominis hummed, "you and I both know that's not true, Sebastian. Not when it comes to her."

Sebastian gulped the sudden lump in his throat upon hearing his own thoughts being spoken out loud by his friend.

"Just don't force me to hear your whinings later," Ominis concluded.

A huff escaped Sebastian's nose at his friend's quip. He turned around with a pout evident on his lips. In all honesty, he hadn't meant a word of what he said to you in Herbology; if anything, that had been his emotions getting the better of him—the thought of you going with someone else brought a sour taste to his mouth and, for lack of a better word, he panicked. Because ever since the Yule Ball was announced, Sebastian caught himself smiling alone at random times as he walked the hallways of Hogwarts; the image of you walking down the stairs all pretty in a gown as you made your way to him, so he could take your hand and place a kiss there, painted his mind in the prettiest of colors, inevitably bringing a smile to his lips.

Sebastian liked to think he'd make it the perfect night, holding you close as you danced and serving you drinks whenever you desired; maybe he'd even go a step further and tell you exactly just what it is that you do to him—how you make his heart jump in his chest whenever he sees you, how he has to remind himself to breathe whenever you touch him.

It was a spark that had been there ever since you bested him in your first duel. A spark that he could feel leaving embers in his soul at each escapade and rule broken together. A spark that eventually turned into a flame, leaving scorch marks against his skin as punishment for all he'd put you through.

And now, Sebastian couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd hold your hand as you showed him your vivariums and have an arm around your shoulders as you walked the school grounds. He'd lose himself if he ever were to lose you. But he couldn't bring himself to do more, to cross that blurred line.

Sebastian didn't know how. How could he ever tell you that you hold his bruised heart in your hands? How could he ever say he was incapable of imagining a future without you in it? How could he do any of that, when he was nowhere near worthy of you?

In his prettiest dreams, you'd wear a gown of a color that matched his tie, he'd take your hand and dance all night until morning came. But those dreams felt like a farfetched reality. Would you even consider going with him? As more than a friend?

So, in stumbled words, he told you he found it boring. And part of him hoped you would both skip the Ball together. At least, he'd have you for the night.

Sebastian was pulled from his daydream when you walked over the threshold, smiling at Natty as you walked by her potion station. He was about to call you over when you were stopped in your tracks by Garreth Weasley.

A frown etched itself in Sebastian's features, his eyes burning against you and Weasley as he watched you speak. He couldn't make out the words you were saying, but the ginger had a hand brushing over your forearm for a moment, way too close to your hand for Sebastian's taste.

And then you smiled, all sweet and soft in a way that got Sebastian's insides all twisted because that smile wasn't directed at him.

None too soon, you were finally ditching Garreth and walking towards him and Ominis. Sebastian straightened in his seat and forced his expression into a neutral one.

"Hello boys," you greeted the Slytherin duo, dropping two large books on your table beside the caldron, "have you finished Sharp's assignment yet?"

Ominis' lips turned up at the sound of your voice, his features softening, "I have, I'm quite confident this is one of my best yet."

"We had an assignment?" Sebastian chimed in, making Ominis audibly groan from beside him.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction and he gave you an obvious wink, his Cheshire grin framing his freckles.

"So," Sebastian continued, avoiding your eyes, "what were you and Weasley talking about?"

"Oh," an unusual warmth came to your cheeks, you opened one of your books on no specific page, "he- he was just asking if I'd like to go to the Yule Ball with him."

Sebastian nearly choked on his own breathing upon hearing your words, he had to double-check them in his head to make sure he'd heard correctly. Several emotions clogged up his throat all at once. Anger, because how dare Weasley ask you to the Ball. Regret, because the ginger had done what Sebastian himself was too afraid to do. Despair, because somehow it felt just a little like losing you. Jealousy, because you were his. And then finally, realization, because you weren't his, not really; Sebastian had no right to feel any of this. Yet he did anyway.

His chest felt tight, his heartbeat began to hurt.

A strange chuckle escaped Sebastian's lips, he could feel Ominis' eyes boring into him, as ironic as that was. "Why would he think you'd go with him?" Sebastian liked to believe he kept up his nonchalant attitude pretty well.

You pursed your lips, taking a deep breath, "I said yes."

Sebastian thought that maybe Crucio would sting less.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Sebastian’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @auxiliare

sebastian impatiently waiting for the main character with his little pocket watch

How It Starts, How It Ends

summary: a series of pivotal moments in your relationship with Chishiya, pre and post-Borderlands.

genre: some fluff, heavy angst, established relationship

pairing: chishiya x art student!reader

words: 3.5k

warnings: major character death, hurt no comfort, depression, possible spoilers for S2

First Meeting

"Look at this cute beetle I found."

The small insect gently crawled up your pudgy hand as you held it out. The boy in front of you didn't seem too impressed, responding with only a blank stare. You had always seen him by himself during recess and felt bad that he had to eat alone daily. The other kids were either scared of his dad or thought he was weird—but you minded no such things.

"Those carry germs. Some species of them even hiss or bite," he deadpanned.

"But not this one," you pouted, nudging your hands closer to him. "Look, I think he wants to meet you."

Truly enough, the beetle was inching its way off your fingers, seemingly heading towards the stoic boy. He glanced at it before looking back at you, then he sighed. He didn't think he could get rid of you, so he'll entertain you for now.

"I'll pet it, but I'm not gonna hold it."

"Deal!" 

The way you beamed at him made him feel weird, like something was stirring in his chest. Interesting, he noted.

"I'm ___," you smiled, watching him swipe his finger back and forth the beetle's shell.

"I'm Chishiya."

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

First Date(ish)

"I'm about to implode."

Chishiya looked over your notes and let out a snort. Almost everything was highlighted and it all looked like one big splotch of spilled ink on paper. You ignored him, opting to rearrange your home-made flashcards instead. 

"Physics isn't that hard," he murmured.

"Yeah," you glared at him. "For you."

He chuckled again before getting shushed by someone sitting a shelf away from your table. This made you snicker, worry melting away for a split-second. "I don't get how you can grasp this so easily. The formulas all look the same and I don't know which one to use."

He hummed thoughtful before scooting his chair nearer you. "Just start by focusing on the question. Look at what variables they're giving you and at what's missing, then just match them up with the formula that fits."

"I know~ but—" you huffed. "It's a no-formula-card type of exam."

The way you pouted at him almost looked exactly like how you did all those years ago. You were his first—only—friend, and over time, him simply tolerating you had turned into him growing fond of you.

"How many formulas have you memorized?"

"Two, almost three."

"There's six right? Almost there," he gave you a genuinely encouraging smile.

You loved Chishiya for all his snark and cleverness, but you also loved how soft and supportive he can be when it comes to it. These were small moments you held near your heart, and you doubt you'll ever let them go.

He gently took the flashcards from your hands, tapping rhem on the table to align them. He moved a little so the blank sides were facing you and peered at you over the cards. "If you can get this all down by 5 pm, I'll buy you a snack."

"I want a box of macarons."

"I'll buy you a snack that I can afford."

"Deal!"

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

First Milestone

"How was your finals, doctor?"

A light blush bloomed across Chishiya's cheeks. You were a constant pillar of support for him in life, one he hadn't experienced before from anyone else. Since college had begun for the both of you, you were consistently waiting for him after every finals exam he had—a small strawberry cake roll ready in your hands as a reward for him. It became a tradition for the both of you, and even though Chishiya wasn't the best with words, you knew he was appreciative of your actions.

"I've been offered to intern," his voice was neutral, though you know he was at most pleased with himself with the way his eyes crinkled up. In his mind, however, he was more excited about the cake in his hands rather than the position.

"Holy shit?!" you wrapped your arms around his neck, careful not to squish the frosting. His breath hitched for a second, before he wrapped his free arm around you. He buried his face in your hair, lips quirking up as he shut his eyes to savor the moment. "I'm so proud of you, Chi."

The sunset was slowly trickling into the wide windows of the school hallways. Chishiya didn't expect to be in that laboratory for so long, and it was only now that he realized how long you must have waited. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you to see your face better. 

"Have you eaten yet? You might get an ulcer."

You chuckled lightly, "I've eaten lunch a few hours ago. I wanted us to have dinner together, but I've eaten some crackers while I was waiting."

"Crackers," he pressed his lips in disapproval. "Those aren't nutritious."

Lightly chuckling, you took his hand, leading him out of the building and soon, the campus. The weather was a bit chilly even though you had worn a jacket. Still, you were too stubborn to say anything. Fortunately, Chishiya read you like an open book. Without prompting, he took your hand in his.

"How was your finals? Did your prof like the color application?"

Your heart swelled up. You honestly didn't expect him to remember.

The final project your professor gave you for color theory was to pick an existing painting and evoke the opposite emotion of it by changing the colors and composition. It seemed easy enough, but it had stumped you since you wanted to pick just the perfect base.

The night you were finishing it, Chishiya stayed over at your apartment to "make sure you were eating"—an excuse for him to spend more time with you. He was adamant about getting you to sleep early for the sake of your circadian rhythm, and when he couldn't convince you, stayed up with you instead.

"He seemed to like it, thank god. The composition flowed well and he like that I used a tertiary color scheme."

"I told you the risk would pay off," he smirked.

"I know," you stuck your tongue out. "I should listen to my all-knowing boyfriend more."

Boyfriend. 

He loved it so much when you called him that. Until now he couldn't believe you were real, that what you had was real. He would give anything in the world to stay with you forever.

You passed by a ramen shop, stopping in your tracks to scan the bowls of steaming noodles in longing. You had badly wanted something to heat you up, but one glance at the prices shot down your hopes. 

"I'll treat you," he said softly. "You deserve it."

"But you're the one who got the internship," you pouted at him.

"I'll be treating myself too by buying myself good ramen," he raised an eyebrow, silently pleading that you'd just give in. "And you did treat me. You got me cake."

He raised the small box by the ribbons wrapped around it. When you stayed silent for a couple of seconds, he sighed. You were still stubborn about having to "owe" people things, especially if you felt like you "didn't earn it."

"Fine. I'll buy you ramen tonight and you can make it up to me by taking me to the cafe next week."

"Deal!" you gave in.

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

First Game

Your first game in the Borderlands already had you running for your life. It was a five of clubs called Cat and Mouse. Set in a large office building, you needed to find the four mice scattered all over the place and take their tail—the twist being that the "mice" were actually people donning masks and guns. Red bandanas were attached to their belts, the tails you needed to get.

Chishiya was just behind you, heavily breathing as he slid between the winding hallways of the game arena. His hands were still in his hoodie pockets, much to your dismay. You had told him it'll slow him down, but he just shrugged you off. 

"I know where the final mouse is."

The gunshots faded as you ran farther away from the main room. The two of you teamed up with a group of three other players, and Chishiya came up with the idea to lure the third mouse so you can ambush him.

You had seen another player holding a bandana, and by Chishiya's deductions, you only had another tail left to catch. "The gunshots stopped. We know that there's two mice either dead or incapacitated. Judging by how they seem to be on defense, I think there's only one left."

"Because it would be risky for the last one to come out," you murmured moreso to yourself, completing his thoughts.

He hummed in approval. "We need to find the other players to see if we can cover ground faster. Unless..."

He halted, staring straight down the dimly-lit hallway. You nervously looked around, readying the crowbar you held tightly in case anything were to pounce on you. Chishiya. 

"Maybe we shouldn't stop in the middle of the hallway," you chided him, though he was still deep in his thoughts.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up with a realization. "Unless the mice aren't on the floors."

You're gaze trailed up to the ceiling, landing on the thin slits marked on some parts. Chishiya grinned proudly. Your intelligence has once again made him fall impossible even deeper. 

"They're in the vents," you surmised. He nodded, looking at you in awe and love—as if you were God who came down from heaven to bless him, your devout worshipper.

"We need to tell the others so we can prepare another ambush then." You had considered going back to the main hall, but the other players might have left or been dead by then.

"Don't you want to rest first?" He asked teasingly. 

You snorted. "Shuntaro, we have—" you glanced at the phone, "—five minutes left."

He hummed, feigning contemplation. That name was reserved only for serious occasions, and he knew you were getting riled up. "How about this: we tell them now, but we let them do the handiwork."

This was a side of him that you dreaded seeing. His entire "pawns go first" philosophy bothered you—in fact, you were strongly against it. You didn't like how this place brought out the worst in him, how it brought out the coldness and slyness of his heart.

Yet here you were, unable to leave him. You knew that he was only doing it to protect you. He wanted you to go back together safely as much as you did, but he did it in his own ways.

You bit your lip, voice laced with hesitation.

"Deal."

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

First and Last Goodbye

The first game of the face cards round decimated what might as well be half of the players. 

During the first onslaught King of Spades, you and Chishiya got separated from Kuina, Arisu, and Usagi. The crowbar you had kept from your first game served its last purpose when you used it as a makeshift golf club to hit the grenade away from you. Just as you did, Chishiya dove and pulled you downwards with him to take cover.

You eyes were closed tightly, and the only things you could hear were the ringing in your ears and the beating of his heart. For a second, you swore you had died. Then the arms wrapped around you loosened, followed by a hand running through your hair.

"Are you okay?" Chishiya whispered. His eyebrows knit in worry. "We need to move. Now."

You nodded wordlessly. slowly and quietly rolling off him. Screams and the roar of a rifle were still audible near you, but seemingly moving in the opposite direction. He helped you up, giving you a quick scan to make sure you weren't heavily injured.

"We need to find a sparsely populated area," he spoke once he deemed the King was far enough. "Looks like he's going after large crowds."

"We can go to the edge of the city and follow the river. We're bound to hit a forest sooner or later," you suggested.

"That might take time." He looked your tired state. The bags under your eyes darkened and small scars littered all over your body. An almost empty backpack slung over your shoulder, looking almost as sad as you were.

He weighed out his options: what you suggested was the ideal choice, but you were in no condition for a long trek. Finally, he came to a decision. "But that'll work. We need to do a supply run first."

Was it risky still being in the city? Yes. Did he want you to starve? No. As a compromise, he steered clear of the shops on the main streets. Unfortunately, the smaller stores you ventured into were already looted, only expired goods left in the wreckage.

You could tell Chishiya was getting frustrated. His jaw clenched each time you failed to find food or water. His composure was starting to crack for the first time since you got here. You sidled next to him, slipping your hand into his. He relaxed a bit, though his lips were still pulled into a small grimace.

"We'll be okay," you offered him a small smile. He kissed you on the forehead, returning only a small hum in response.

After thirty more minutes of searching, the two of you finally stumbled upon a shack that had edible food. There were candies at the front, the strawberry ones catching your eye.

Grabbing a handful of them, you strode up to Chishiya. His back was turned to you, the blond busy searching through shelves of cup noodles and biscuits. You tapped him on the shoulder. 

"I got this for you," you brought up the candies like an offering. His eyes sparkled, and he couldn't help the grin that broke through his face. 

"Charming." It was supposed to be teasing, but it came out genuinely grateful. He turned the backpack he was filling up towards you so that you can drop the candies in.

He held it in place for a few seconds longer, looking at you as if he wanted something. You raised your eyebrow in question. He hesitated for a bit, before leaning forwards and connecting his lips with yours.

You reciprocated the kiss, pressing closer to him. The bag landed with a thud on the ground, him favoring pulling your waist closer instead. He was rarely the one who initiated physical affection, but it only took him a bit of prodding to follow through.

He broke away, only to look you in the eyes. "I'll take you home. I promise."

"We'll take us home," you gave him one last peck on the lips. 

For a moment, it felt normal again. It was just you and him against all odds. You were in your little bubble near the outskirts of town, safe from all the hurt.

Then the gunshots started again and they were scarily nearer this time.

Your eyes widened and Chishiya froze. You quickly picked up the bag while he slowly peered out the glass panes of the shop. The caped King was just down the road, a shotgun in his hands. He shot towards the inside of a shop, and Chishiya was certain he hit whoever his target was.

"That's not good," he muttered to himself. "___, run when I tell you to."

"I won't leave you," you snapped.

"I'll be right behind you. I promise." He gave you a reassuring look before peering out the shop window again. 

"Fucker must have tracked us." With the crowbar gone, you had only the small bomb Chishiya made for protection.

He took it out of the inside of his jacket, waiting until the King got close enough. Chishiya knew it wasn't enough to kill anyone, but it would buy you time. That's all that mattered to him.

The crunching of boots on gravel drew closer. Chishiya twisted one of the wires around his finger, ready to pull the activator. The King shot into another store, closer to the one you were in this time. He emptied the round and lowered his gun to reload. In one swift movement, Chishiya pulled on the wire and chucked it as hard as he can.

"Go!"

The two of you sprinted out the shop. The can clunked on the ground as it landed before splintering into pieces with a loud boom. Chishiya yelled after you.

"Don't look back!"

Yet you did, just in time to see the King dodge behind the doorframe. Just in time to see he had the now loaded gun pointed at Chishiya. 

In a split-second, you turned on your heel and pushed Chishiya into an alleyway, the bullet meant for him digging its way into your chest. 

The impact slammed you against the brick wall. There was ringing in your ears and your eyes were blurred by tears. When did you start crying?

Chishiya grabbed your upper body, dragging you deeper into the alley. You could see his lips moving. He was trying to tell you something but everything was so fuzzy.

With adrenaline pumping in his veins, he scooped you up, carrying you as he ran. There were footsteps following not far from him. Pushing his legs to go faster, he inched around the twisted alley, slinking in and out of connected rooms, running and running until he found a door to a semi-basement hidden behind tarps.

He forced it in with his shoulder, careful not to hit you. The room used to be for storage—construction items and dust filling the space. He slid behind a pile of wooden beams, gently setting you down. The surroundings outside settled, and he knew the gunman had lost you.

But god, the bloodbath before him was the scariest.

He'd seen this happen before. He's seen how pale a person could get after so much blood loss. He's seen how it becomes more evident with the lips, cheeks, the tips of your fingers. He's seen that faraway look, the one where he knew the person was starting to drift away.

He put both hands on your chest, putting pressure on the wound. Your blood leaked through your shirt, soaking his hands. Frantically, he took his hoodie off and pressed it against you too. 

"Don't die on me, ___. Please." He whispered, voice breaking.

His words brought you back, tearing your eyes away from the corner of cement bricks and bringing it back to his warm, brown ones. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. He's never cried before.

You tried to move your lips, only a croak escaping from your throat. "Chish..."

"Don't leave me, please. Please, ___."

A crimson puddle on the ground was growing at an alarming rate. He had no tools, no help. He was a doctor but he couldn't fucking save the only life that mattered to him. 

Shakily, he held you closer. His voice never sounded this gentle before. "Stay with me."

"C-candies. Eat well... okay?" Your voice was hoarse. The humid room felt colder now. "L-love you."

"We'll eat well together. We'll go back together, I promised you. I'll get you macarons and ramen and those paints you've always wanted, okay? Deal?" His voice was wavering. He tightened his grip on you, pressing your chest harder with his other hand. "Deal?"

You looked up at him with a sad smile. With the last bit of your strength, you brought your hand up and pressed it against his. He laced your fingers together.

"___?" He whispered, finally letting the tears fall. "Deal?" 

You didn't respond. You didn't get to hear him say he loved you too.

   .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

First Grief

One minute.

Landing in the Borderlands. Cat and Mouse. The Beach. The face cards. Losing you.

It all happened within a minute in the real world.

Chishiya made a promise to himself while he was in the Borderlands. When the candies would run out, he'd stop fighting. When the last traces of you would leave him, he'd join you. Yet by divine intervention, they lasted enough until he beat the King of Diamonds. Long enough until Arisu and Usagi cleared the final face card. 

And now here he was. Sitting on a hospital bed, knowing that he wouldn't find you anywhere in the hospital or the Earth for that matter. 

He hadn't spoken since, only nodding or shaking his head in response to the doctor's questions. As a doctor, he'd known he would've been pissed at a patient that acted like himself. But nothing mattered anymore.

"We found you holding this. Your fist was wrapped around it pretty tightly that we thought the blood had cut off," a nurse told him. She placed a singular piece of strawberry candy on his bedside table.

He looked at it with mixed feelings of remorse and dread. He waited for the nurse to leave the room. Wordlessly, he reached over to close the curtains separating him from a patient with burn injuries. He allowed himself to break down again that day.

When his wounds had recovered enough for him to stand, he found himself sitting in the garden area. The candy was still unopened, sitting on the oak table in front of him. A part of him still hoped that you'd join him out of nowhere. That he'll hear your voice like tinkling bells calling out to him.

"I promised," he thought to himself. How was he supposed to continue everything you've built without you? How was he supposed to go home and face all the things you've left behind?

He wanted to cry again. He wanted to tear his heart out so he'd stop the hurt. He wanted you back. He'd give anything.

The small buzz of wings pricked his ears. He lifted his hand a little, discovering a tiny beetle that had landed near him. He stared at it for a few seconds before gently nudging it with his finger.

It grasped his skin, spiky limbs crawling up his hand.

"___ would've loved you," he whispered.

The Boys Series

I had a slight downgrade in my art and I apologize! :( I got sick and had to stop drawing for a while, but soon I'll bring more beautiful and more crafted arts!