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“I’m off!” Your cheery voice startled Egon from his work, raising his gaze to meet yours. Your head was peaking over the railing to the basement, your keys in one hand and purse in the other.
“It’s only 3 in the afternoon. Why are you leaving so early?” He tried not to sound too disappointed.
“Aw, careful Dr., someone might think you actually miss me when I’m gone.” You teased, resting your chin against the cold metal.
“Preposterous.” He tried to suppress a smile. Next to the Ghostbusters, you were one of his closest friends, being a worker at Columbia’s library. For some reason, you had decided to forge a friendship with him and he was eternally grateful.
You were beautiful, and relentlessly kind, letting him talk your ear off about everything and anything mentioning ghosts or parapsychology, even if you didn’t understand a word. Your humor was just as dry as his, and he lived for the moments he made you laugh, feeling the wind get knocked out of him whenever you smiled his way.
When he had gotten fired, you quit your job, following the gang to the firehouse and working with Janine. You occasionally helped the boys on busts, janitorial duties, and made sure they took care of themselves.
It only made him fall deeper for you.
“Preposterous.” You mimicked his low voice, rolling your eyes playfully. “I’ll have you know some people like my company.
“Shall I drill a hole in their head and examine them for brain damage?” He teased, and you stuck your tongue out at him.
“Ha ha.” You deadpanned. “To answer your question, I actually have a date tonight, so I’m leaving to go get ready.” Egon blinked, expression unwavering.
“He’ll probably need the head then, perhaps another time.”
“Bye, Egon!” You decided to wrap up the conversation, getting nowhere with him. You sauntered back up the steps, trying not to let your mood sour.
“Examine them for brain damage?” You knew Egon was joking, that was his sense of humor, but it didn’t stop you from feeling upset. You guess he really didn’t care about you in a romantic sense at all. He didn’t seem bothered at all to hear you were going on a date, the third setup you tried in the past month.
You remembered when you first met him in the library at Columbia. Sometimes he would spend hours upon hours in the library, checking out the same section of books each time. Something about him just drew you in and you decided then and there you had to befriend him.
Your friendship had to have started because he was too polite to ask you to go away but he seemed genuinely surprised as you asked him questions about what he was reading, what department he worked in and other trivial topics.
He was hilarious, never truly meaning to be as funny as he was. He was caring, always asking you how you were and letting you talk as much as he did. Yes, he was attractive, but it was his kind heart that drew you in the most.
When you found out he had been fired for no real reason you were livid, resigning immediately (though you admit that was probably too rash of a decision in the moment). Thankfully, Venkman and Stantz accepted you into the Ghostbusters family just as quickly, and the rest was history.
But as time passed, you and Egon’s relationship stayed the same. He never gave an inkling he felt more than friendship towards you so you never dared to risk the relationship, trying to go out on dates to try and get over your unrequited feelings.
You had yet to find anyone who made you feel as happy as when you were with Egon.
Back in the basement, Egon held his head in his hands, cursing at himself for his cowardice. He knew he had multiple opportunities to tell you how he felt, and yet, for some unknown reason, he could never admit it to your face.
He sighed heavily, heading up the stairs to grab a glass of water, or whiskey, whatever he saw first, before he was stopped by the phone ringing. Noticing Janine was nowhere in sight, he answered, shoulders soon slumping as he heard the other end.
He slammed the phone on the receiver, cursing under his breath.
-
You sat at your vanity, trying to quickly finish your makeup for your date. You had showered, shaved, plucked, and preened for a while, hoping that tonight could finally be the night you get swept off your feet.
“Wow.” A deep voice came from behind you. You spun in your chair, smiling at Egon’s familiar form. He so often visited your apartment that you told him he could enter wherever he pleased.
“You like it?” You stood, giving a twirl before sitting back down.
“You look beautiful.” He swallowed thickly. He seemed stressed, a few beads of sweat by his forehead, his tie crumpled as it was loosened and unloosened throughout the day, his sleeves on both his button-down and blazer pushed up to his elbows.
“Egon, what’s wrong?” Your question seemed to trouble him, his gaze falling to the floor, staring intently at your carpet. “Egon?” You tried again to no avail.
You stood again, approaching him and bending to stick your chin out so his eyes would have to meet yours. “There you are. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
He looked downright uncomfortable, your concern behind your humorous glance making the words die in his throat.
“He’s not coming. Your date. He called the station after you left.” He looked as if he was about to vomit. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh…Did he say why?” Your voice sounded small.
“I could give you the answer he gave me or I could tell you what he actually meant.” You stayed quiet, standing up at your full height and taking a deep breath. And another. And another.
You slowly walked back to your vanity, staring at yourself in the mirror for a moment before picking up your blush brush and applying the rest of your makeup. Egon’s dark brows furrowed, observing you for a few moments before clearing his throat.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m finishing getting ready, I’m going out tonight.” There you were, bouncing back as always. Egon loved your resilience but your answer didn’t seem to quell his thoughts.
“Why?”
“I’m going to head to a club, try and meet someone else.” You shrugged your shoulders, running your hands through your hair.
“I can’t believe it.” His mouth seemed to run away from him, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
“What?” You questioned, continuing to primp yourself. Fearing he would explode if he didn’t tell you the truth, he continued, damn the consequences.
“Y/n, you look gorgeous.” He began. “You’ve put hours into getting ready for tonight. I can smell your shampoo and lotion from here from the shower you no doubt had earlier. I can see rejected clothes on the floor you’ll rehang tomorrow, and the clutter on your vanity to make sure you look perfect.”
“You always… you always work yourself up,” His tone was firm, trying to stay calm. “You go over every detail with Janine about how the night went, ask us for advice so this time he’ll return your calls, or this time he’ll take you out on a second date. You waste your money on perfumes, nail polish, outfits that you hardly ever wear. It’s always the same!” He sighed exasperatedly, his tone growing louder.
“And that’s what makes it so incredibly frustrating! You put all this time and effort, mentally and physically, on men who don’t care about you! Who will never care about you! Why do you do this to yourself? Constantly torture yourself for someone who will never see you, the real you?!” Caught up in his ramblings he failed to realize that you had started crying.
“Yes, Egon. You’re absolutely right, as always.” You hissed. “I may romanticize every interaction I have, I may build things up in my head, put myself out there too much, spend my time and money on trying to be perfect for someone, but that means I still care. You don’t fall in love by hiding away from the world. And I want to! I want to fall in love so badly that the thought of being happy with someone makes my heart ache. I have love running through my veins, just waiting to be given to someone.”
“I have been watching romance movies and reading romance books since I was a child. I have grown up on the idea that my Prince Charming will soon come, take one look at me, and know that we were made for each other. Is that unrealistic? Yes, of course it is! Of course I know it is. Because no one in their right mind would take one look at me and decide that I’m the girl they want to be with.” Your anger consumed you, voice having risen to a shout.
“No amount of witty conversation wins a man over. My jokes are awful, and even with all this… this goddamn makeup and jewelry I still can’t be anyone’s first choice. I’m never anyone’s first choice.” You shoved various items off your vanity, letting them clatter on the ground as you buried your face in your hands, gasping as you cried.
You assumed Egon had left as soon as you started crying, but were surprised to feel his large, warm hand on your knee. You peeked through your fingers, hiccuping as you tried to quiet yourself.
Egon was currently on his knees in front of you, his other hand snaking around your waist to pull you close to him. “Cry,” He murmured softly. “It will make you feel better.”
“I-”
“Don’t say you’re sorry.” He shushed you, letting you slide on the floor next to him and finish wailing, your hands digging into the fabric of his outfit and squeezing. Egon remained quiet, other than the occasional comforting “shush” while he rubbed your back.
“I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m the one who's sorry.” His voice broke the quiet atmosphere. He pulled his pocket square out of his blazer, gently wiping your tear-stricken cheeks. “It only makes me so upset because… I’m in love with you. You’re my first choice. You always will be.” He admitted, pushing a few strands of your hair out behind your ear. His voice remained steady, though his eyes betrayed how nervous he was. “Tell me to stop.”
“No.” You replied quickly, voice hoarse. “Do you really mean that? You love me, even like this? Even now?”
“Yes, I mean it. Yes, I love you. Yes, just the way you are, though I hate that you’re upset. I can’t bear you in any type of pain. And perhaps the timing is awful and I’ve ruined our friendship forever, but I had to let you know.” Now he felt as if he was going to cry, losing all thought as your hand came up to cradle his jaw.
“You’ve been my first choice, since I met you. Everyone else has just an attempt to move on.” You whispered, leaning forward. “Please… kiss me.”
Egon’s forefinger and thumb pinched your chin, his breath shaky as he took a moment to gather his courage and softly kiss you. His lips were soft and warm, pressing a few open-mouthed kisses to your own. You pulled away to kiss every inch of skin leading from his jaw to his ear.
“I love you too.”