Chapter Text
Happiness was not a word Daniel would ever associate with himself. It was foreign on his tongue, something he had told himself from a young age that he didn't deserve. People like him could never be happy or at least that’s what he thought. That was until he met her. It was cliche, really, and god did he fucking hate cliches. Sad, lonely, man meets vibrant, loving woman who lights up his entire world? The thought of it alone was enough to make him laugh. Then it happened.
He’s late to work but he couldn’t give two shits at this point. He walks like he doesn't have a care in the world, coffee (that he may or may not have spiked with whiskey) in hand. The people around him are in a hurry, like they always are. Not caring about anyone else but themselves as the push past people, not even as much as an “excuse me” leaving their mouths. Normally he can let it slide, silently cursing them as he rolls his eyes. That is until someone runs straight into him, knocking him backwards slightly as hot coffee stains his once crisp, white shirt.
“What the hell, man?” he yells, eyes cast downwards with a scowl on his face. He’s ready to release another long slew of swear words until a soft voice stops him dead in his tracks; “I am so sorry sir! Let me help”
He looks up then and in that moment he swears that the world itself stops on its axis. The people around them slowly go out of focus and all he can see is her. Daniel can’t recall ever having a favorite color, but the moment he meets her kind eyes, he knows it’s y/e/c.
He must’ve been staring, because she places her much smaller hand on his forearm, sparks erupting on his bare skin due to his sleeve being rolled up. Then, he smiles. Not one of those bullshit-forced ones he’s become so accustomed to, but a genuine, honest-to-god smile. “Oh, no problem at all. It’s just a shirt” he says, trying his best to seem composed as his stomach erupts with literal butterflies. Did he mention how much he hates cliches?
“Can I at least buy you a new coffee? My name is Y/N, by the way” she says, her voice so melodic that he thinks she must be an angel. She has to be. Against his better judgement, he agrees and the next thing he knows they’re in a small coffee shop down the street. She’s much different from the woman he’s used to. There’s an inexplicable light about her and it’s refreshing. He can tell there are no hidden motives with her, that her act of kindness is genuine and that she expects nothing back from him. She doesn't even react when he mentions his name. Le Domas means nothing to her and he swears he’s in love.
An hour or so passes and it’s the quickest hour of his life. He’s enjoying himself immensely in her company and he likes to think she feels the same way in his. The conversation flows naturally and he finds himself never wanting this moment to end. She’s making him laugh and smile more than he has in almost 30 years, his jaw literally aching from the near constant grin on his face. Then it all comes to a screeching halt. Her smile dropping slightly as she checks the time on her phone.
“I am so sorry to do this, but I have to get going! I have an interview at 1 and if I don’t leave now I’ll be late” she says, a frown tugging at her lips. He understands, he really does, but he can’t help the overwhelming feeling of sadness that crashes over him in waves.
Smiling softly, he nods, standing up. “I should probably head out too. Time to change out of this shirt, you know?” he jests, hoping she doesn't sense the sadness behind his eyes.
She doesn’t, laughing as she gets her things together before standing too. “Well, I would say sorry about bumping into you again, but after this I’m not” she says teasingly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. He arches a brow in response, a smirk on his lips; “If that’s the case, how about I get your number. You know, so I can let you know how much you owe me for a new shirt”. She giggles at that, before digging a pen out of her purse and scribbling her number onto a napkin. “I look forward to your call, Mr. Le Domas” is all she says before handing him the napkin and running out of the coffee shop. He stands there for a moment before shaking his head. He’s fucked.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He sleeps the best he ever has that night. His dreams filled with visions of her, not the usual nightmares he has. The ones that wake him up at 3am and drive him drink. He doesn't think he’s slept that well in years and he can’t help but wonder how much better it would be if she was next to him. As he gets ready for the day, his mind keeps wandering back to her. To her y/c/h and her pretty smile. To when she laughs and her eyes crinkle up in the most adorable way. What was wrong with him? He had just met this girl for god's sake. He contemplates texting her, but decides against it. It was too soon and he refuses to come off as overzealous. Instead opting to pour himself a glass of whiskey.
He makes it to work on time that day, his phone burning a hole in his dress pants pocket. He’s itching to text her, but won’t let himself do so. The moment he walks into the office his boss starts chewing him out, yelling about how he didn't even bother to come in the previous day. Daniel can’t be bothered though, him and his boss both know that he won’t do shit. Firing Tony Le Domas’ son would not be a wise decision and he knows this. So, with a heavy sigh, he sends Daniel off, murmuring something about him being a “smug bastard” under his breath.
The rest of the day passes slowly for him. He’s even more distracted than usual and he gets almost nothing done. He can’t even find it in himself to flirt back with his assistant, Charity, ignoring her advances as she tries her best to garner his attention. She’s pretty, gorgeous even, but she’s only after his money and he knows this. He’s finally brought out of his thoughts when his phone rings, making him jump slightly. “Daniel Le Domas speaking” he answers with a bored tone, frown quickly turning into a small smile when he hears his brothers voice on the other end. Alex was one of the only people in this world he truly cared for.
“Hey fuckface, how you doing?” he asks, Alex laughing on the other end. They talk for a little, catching up, and Daniel asks how him and Grace have been doing.
“I really like her, man. Like a lot. She makes me so goddamn happy” Alex practically gushes over the phone and Daniel makes a gagging sound in response.
“You both are so fucking cute, it’s nauseating” is all he replies with. They both know he doesn't mean it, it’s just how he is.
“Fuck you too, Danny. Anyways, how have you been? Meet anyone special yet?” he asks like he always does. For some reason Alex was fixated on Daniel meeting someone. Saying he deserved love just like the rest of them. Normally he blows him off, but decides to bring the girl from yesterday up. Alex nearly loses his shit over the phone and Daniel has to bring the phone away from his ear for a moment, just so he doesn’t hang up on his brothers overly enthused questions.
“Why haven’t you called her? You shouldn’t be talking to me right now, you should be talking to her!” he says, making Daniel scoff over the phone.
“I just met her, Alex. I can’t just call her right away”
“When did Daniel Le Domas become such a pussy? Just call her man. Like now” and with that he hangs up, leaving Daniel a mix between offended and confused. He was right though, why wait? If she wasn’t interested, she would not have given him her number. But then there’s that darker part of him telling him not to. That she was just like the rest of them. So, he does what he does best. He says “fuck it” and leaves the office, dialing her number as he walks past Charity who shoots him a dirty look.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
To his surprise, she answers on the second ring. Her voice having a calming effect on him instantly even though all she says is “Hi, this is Y/N”. Damn this woman…
“Uh, hey. It’s Daniel. The guy whose shirt you ruined yesterday” he replies, proud of himself for playing is so cool but also so fucking happy that she can’t see how nervous he is right now. She’s laughing now and he smiles, feeling a sense of pride that he’s the one making her laugh. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call? Did you find out how much I owe you?” she inquires, and now it’s his turn to laugh.
“I did actually. Looks like it’s gonna cost you coming to dinner with me tonight.” he fires back, hoping he’s not being too forward. He’s never been this nervous to ask someone out and the feeling is so new to him. He’s used to men and women all but throwing themselves at him. With her though? He feels like he has to put in actual effort.
“Is that all? I definitely think I manage that” is her simple reply and he starts blushing. Fucking blushing.
“Perfect, so, uh-I’ll pick you up at 8?” his nerves get the best of him as he stumbles over his words. If only Alex could see him now, he would never let him live this down.
“I look forward to it. I’ll try not to spill anything else on you this time”
He laughs, “If it secures me a second date with you, I won't be complaining”
After talking for a few more minutes, working out the logistics, they part ways with a simple goodbye and promises to see one another later. He feels as though he’s walking on cloud nine as he makes his way into his apartment building, his joyful demeanor practically radiating off of him.
Two hours later, Daniel is pulling up to her apartment, flowers in hand. That’s right, flowers. His mother would be proud (maybe for the first time in his life). Laughing bitterly to himself he bounds up the steps to her front door. He presses the buzzer and he’s let in shortly after, waiting in the entry-way for her just like she asked. He’s nervous, more nervous than he’s been before in his life. Well, that’s a lie. This is the second most nervous he’s ever been, thoughts of the night that plague his dreams swirling around his head.
He jumps slightly when he feels someone tap on his shoulder, turning around quickly. All of his previous thoughts have vanishing and once again he finds himself utterly entranced by her. She’s wearing a pretty, little y/f/c dress and her makeup looks flawless. He stares for a moment before regaining his composure and clearing his throat, “You look amazing. Really”.
Y/N blushes slightly, looking up at him through her lashes; “You look pretty good yourself, Le Domas. Although, I do prefer you with a coffee stain”.
“You wound me” he says in a faux pained voice, free hand clutching at his chest dramatically, before sticking out the flowers to her. “Take these, as my dying wish”.
She rolls her eyes at his antics, “You are such a dork. Who would've thought?”
“You just bring the best out of me. Anyways, let’s get going. Don’t want to be late now”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Dinner goes perfectly. Both of them falling into easy conversation, much like the previous day at the coffee shop. He feels so relaxed and at ease with her that he doesn’t even take a sip of the wine they ordered, which is unheard of for him. Usually he’s jumping at the bit for a drink (or 5), but not with her. He’d rather experience tonight in its purest form. Not thoroughly inebriated and through whiskey-colored glasses. They’ve easily been at the restaurant for three hours now and he feels himself hoping that this night never ends. That this feeling of weightlessness never leaves him. But, like most things in life, all things must come to an end and soon they are both leaving the restaurant. His arm is wrapped around her waist and her head is leaning against his shoulder. They must look exactly like what Daniel hates. The perfect picture of domesticality. Unaware of anything other than themselves.
The night ends with him walking her to the door and a kiss that makes his knees weak. He’s asking her out again before he can even stop himself and she is quick to accept his offer. Both of them feeling an unspoken connection to the other. Something that draws them together. Fate, if you will, but he would never say so out loud.
Their second date turns into a third and then a fourth. Life moves on fast and soon it's been 6 months since they first met and he’s telling her he loves her and she starts crying. Saying how much she loves him too and how much it means to her, because she knows how hard it is for him to open up. Knows how he feels like he doesn’t deserve any of this, doesn't deserve her. And then he’s crying too, scolding himself for being so weak. “Le Domas’ don't cry” rings in his head, something his father used to tell him when he was a child. That is until she gently cups his face and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s perfect.
His dad can go fuck himself.
The next few months after that are perfect as well. He starts slowly opening up to her about his family. He tells her just how fucked up they all are. How his dad seemingly hates him. How his mom tries to play peacekeeper but always ends up taking his father’s side. How Emilie has a raging drug problem. How Alex is the perfect son. But most importantly, how he has been known to drink too much and how he seems to think that he’s destined for a lifetime of pain and suffering. She takes it in strides, listening intently and never once judging him. He is sure it would be a different story if he had brought up that night. The night that casts a dark shadow over him. The night he helped kill an innocent man. He loves her too much to divulge that information just yet. He tells himself he’ll tell her soon, but for now he’ll bask in her light.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He’s doing so much better with her around. He’s drinking less, having opted to go to some AA meetings here and there. He’s also actually trying at work. He hasn't been late in awhile now and his boss no longer looks at him like he’s a piece of shit. It’s like he’s who he was always supposed to be, that cloud of cynicism having lifted from him. Then it all comes crashing down.
It’s early in the morning and Y/N is already at work. He’s home alone in the apartment, getting ready to head into the office when he receives a phone call. It’s his mother and she tells him Alex finally proposed to Grace. How they have already set a date for the wedding and how she expects him to be there; he knows she doesn't just mean the wedding. Daniel feels his chest tightening and he starts to get light headed. Telling him mom he has to call her back before ending the call and running to the bathroom, emptying his stomach into the toilet in front of him. It feels like the walls are closing in on him and he fights the urge to retch some more. He laughs, tears brimming at his eyes, because of course this would happen. Karma was a bitch and now he was going to pay for all he had done.
He doesn't finish getting ready after that. Instead, he heads into the kitchen and rummages through the cabinets looking for a familiar bottle, one he hasn't needed in quite some time. He finds it and doesn't even bother pouring himself a glass, deciding that drinking straight from the bottle would be befitting of the occasion. He winces at the first swig and doesn't know if it’s because of the familiar sting in the back of his throat or because of the discontentment he feels with himself.
He’s halfway done with the bottle when his melancholy turns into full blown anger. He’s now pacing the room, running a hand through his dark brown hair and yelling to a God who he knows doesn't care. His phone starts ringing again and instead of looking at who it is, he takes it and throws it at the wall. The screen shatters and the grating ringing sound finally stops, much to his relief. He’s breathing is becoming heavier and the pounding in his head is becoming too much. So he drinks some more and soon the bottle is completely empty and he can barely stand on his own. He passes out on the couch after that, bottle thrown haphazardly across the room. Glass shattering is the last thing he hears before finally passing out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He’s suddenly in his family home, or should he say mansion. He’s standing in the game room against the door as his family sits around the round table, but there’s another person with them. She’s dressed in white. A wedding gown he finally realizes.
His dad is at the head of the table, spewing out some bullshit about their family history and explaining the box he holds in his hands. He speaks so animatedly, the excitement in his voice making Daniel roll his eyes. Daniel hates that box with every fiber of his being.
The box is then passed around the table and soon it’s in the mystery girls hands. She’s speaking, but for some reason he can’t make out what she’s saying. Her voice sounds muffled and warped and he gets hit with an overwhelming feeling of absolute dread. He sees her press on the side of the box and a loud *click* sounds, shaking him to his core.
She’s talking again, but he still can't hear her. He’s looking around the table and everyone is looking at him, smiles on their faces. But they’re too wide, unnaturally wide. And their eyes, their eyes are completely black and he just stands there, fear freezing him in place.
That’s when the mystery woman starts to turn her head, body staying forward as her neck turns a full 180 degrees. Then he’s met with y/c/e eyes and he realizes it’s her. It’s his Y/N at the exact place he swore he would never bring her to. She’s saying something again, repeating it over and over. Her voice is no longer muffled and he can hear her clear as day. And he screams then, dropping to his knees as she keeps saying it; Hide and Seek.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He still screaming when he jolts awake, body shaking and covered in a sheen of sweat. His eyes are wild as he looks around quickly, finally landing on Y/N’s startled face, mere inches away from his own.
“Daniel, baby, it’s me” she says, voice watery as she tries to hold back tears.
He stares at her with wide, blood-shot eyes as he reaches a shaky hand out, carrasing the side of her face. He needs to feel her. Needs to know that she’s real and not some terrible nightmare. She doesn’t flinch away, instead bringing a hand up to rest over his as her tears finally start to fall. “It’s okay baby, I’m here” she whispers out, voice so soft like she’s to placate a child. It’s fitting though, because he feels like one. She’s grabbing his arm now, pulling him towards the bedroom, when he finally notices how dark it had gotten outside now.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry” is all he’s able to say, refusing to look her in the eyes and see that familiar look. The one he had grown up his whole life seeing. The look of pure disappointment. She stops him once they’re in their room, pulling him into a tight hug. Her face is squished against his chest and she’s holding him so hard, like she’s afraid he might suddenly disappear from her grasp. “I love you” she says, voice muffled from his shirt, “Every single part of you”.
And soon they’re both laying in bed, utterly exhausted. She’s pressed up behind him, doing her best to spoon his much larger body, peppering kisses up and down his back. He’s promised her he’ll tell her what happened tomorrow. That he will tell her the entire truth even though he’s so fucking scared of what she’ll think.
She promises that whatever he says won't change her mind about him. That she won’t look at him differently, that she will always love him. And then he’s crying again. Because he knows come tomorrow she’ll leave. That he will be all alone again and the happiness and love he once felt will be gone. People like him don't deserve a happy ending and he’s always known this. But for tonight? Tonight he’ll cherish what they have. Because right now, in this very moment, he’s still loved.