Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Titch didn’t believe in god. He was ashamed to admit it. He tried so hard to, but how could he? He wanted to be a good Christian boy he really did. He loved church. He loved the choirs and the open vast halls. He loved the people who always smiled at him and treated him as one of their own. He loved the pastors and their kind words.

Yet, whenever he prayed, he did not pray to god.

There was no divine force, no cosmic being greater than any man on earth, no god in sight. Titch didn’t believe.

If Titch believed then he’d be a fool. And he was no fool. If God was benevolent, then he was not omnipotent. If God was omnipotent, he was not benevolent. Titch didn’t know which reality was right and he was not having it.

Titch prayed to the stars above instead. They were tangible and present. He had always liked them, and Lady Margaery said she got her powers from them. It was enough for him to turn his prayers to them.

Titch wished he believed when he held his father’s hand as he took his last breath. He wish he believed something could save him. He wish he believed that there was somewhere for him to go.

But the cold hard truth was that his father was gone.

If Titch believed, then his father would be in heaven, happy with his mother and the rest of the family. If Titch believed, then he’d know that there would be something good that came out of this death. If Titch believed, he might have been able to stop this mess.

Titch buried himself into his father’s cold cold hands as the doctors swarmed around him, rushing to try to save him. One of the nurses gently pulled him aside into the waiting room and all he could do was hold his head as he waited for the inevitable.

Titch prayed to the stars his father was at peace now.

The next few days passed as a blur. He barely remembered the planning, or the funeral itself. He remembered the church bells ringing as his father’s casket was lowered into the ground. The priest glowed in white as he preached about the divine afterlife. He remembered the bitter taste on his tongue as the sun blazed on and the sweaty, sticky nature of the funeral. Titch remembered digging his nails into his fists so hard he drew blood.

If Titch believed, then this was the moment he stopped believing.

-

Amanda wanted to scream when she heard the news. She wanted to beg, cry and throw a tantrum. Instead, all she could muster was a small smile and placing a hand on her lap.

“I’m so happy for you!”

It was supposed to be her. She was supposed to have confessed to her, to be her partner. Not Mark. She didn’t know why she was so angry this time around. Clarissa had had partners before. It was alright. That was a lie, Amanda knew it. She was angry, so angry and sad and grieving.

But how could she be angry when Clarissa looked so happy?

Growing up, Amanda had always believed in soulmates. Two people destined for each other. She remembers the nights she and Tim would spend by their father’s feet, listening to stories of two strangers falling in each other's arms and knowing they were intertwined. It was beautiful, how the universe knew that two people were meant to be.

Amanda knew she met her soulmate when she met Clarissa. It was just a regular day, when suddenly a much shorter blonde girl barrelled into her, apologising profusely. Something just clicked into place when she met her eyes. They were going to be best friends and more.

But that was a child’s fantasy. She could be mature now. She would. This was her best friend, and she was so happy. Amanda had never seen her this happy. She was practically glowing when she announced it to her, all giggly and smiling. She reminded her of when they were seventeen, with not a care in the world. She couldn’t take that joy away from her, she couldn’t.

So Amanda did what she always did, and supported her best friend.

It wasn’t until later that night, as she sat in front of the open fire that she let herself cry. It was all so stupid. She should be happy. Clarissa had pined for Mark for ages, they were going to be amazing together. Amanda couldn’t help herself as she sobbed, her shoulders heaving under the emotional weight as she fed the flames with the millions of drafts of a confession for Clarissa. The letters burnt beautifully, melting away into embers. The embers dissipated into the air like how the words disappeared in her throat every time she saw Clarissa. Forever forgotten and never to be seen again. She tucked her head into her knees as the tears streamed down her face. At that moment, Amanda realised a fundamental truth.

She wasn’t her soulmate.

It made her cry even harder.

-

“An assistant?” Titch snorted, “James why would I ever need one, you know-“

“Titch, I’m just worried about you,” James sighed, “You work too hard, too much, it’s not healthy.”

Titch snorted. What did James know about working hard? He wasn’t the one who had to run the farm ever since their father got ill. He knew nothing about the labour that went into making sure that everything was in order. He didn’t know anything about the hours their father spent in the field until his hands bled from sowing and ploughing all day. He wasn’t the one who had to call their father away from his desk in the dead of night to make sure that he slept. He wasn’t the one who watched their father scribble away at his desk, hours on end to make sure that everything ran smoothly until his hands started shaking. Until the tremors wouldn’t go away. This was nothing compared to what their father had done. Absolutely nothing.

“It’s a waste of money,” Titch bit the inside of his cheek. Fucking hell did it hurt, but whatever. As long as James could stop worrying, it would be fine. Titch picked at his dinner plate.

“You wouldn’t be the one paying,” James sighed, “I’ve found someone, his name’s Philip and he knows his way around aubergines-”

“And when did I agree to this?” Titch snapped at him. He slammed his hands against the dinner table.

“Titch, please. He’s a good guy. Just,” James sighed. Burrowed eyebrows did not suit his big brother at all. Titch slowly sat back down and crossed his arms. “Just test him out for a day.”

It was Titch’s turn to sigh now.

“I’m giving him a day, and that’s it,” he pinched the space between his eyebrows. The things he did for love. At least James was smiling now.

-

“So you’re Amanda?”

Amanda sipped on her cocktail as she eyed this man up and down. Jacked, bald and a non-existent hair shorter than her? Amanda shook Mark’s outreached hand tentatively. He wasn’t Clarissa’s type. She usually went for much taller men or women, who actually had hair on their heads. Amanda shook her head and scolded herself internally. She would play nice. She plastered on a polite smile and looked up at Mark.

“Lovely to meet you, Mark I assume?”

Mark grinned and clapped her on the back. Amanda cringed internally. This was going to be a long evening.

“Always wanted to meet Suzanne’s best friend,” Mark took the seat next to her, “She talks a lot about you.”

She took another sip of her drink. The strawberry daiquiri tasted far more bitter than she remembered. She eyed the man warily before setting down her drink.

“I hope it’s only been good things.”

Mark clapped her on the back again and she nearly spat out her drink. He belted out a laugh.

“Oh please, she can’t ever stop talking about how amazing you are!” He placed a hand on his forehead, “Really got me curious you know?”

“Oh yeah?” Amanda tried to stuff down the butterflies emerging in her stomach. God, she needed to keep it together. She swirled her straw around her drink, “Well, I suppose I’ve been awful curious as well, about the man who captured Clarissa’s heart.”

They talked the night away. It was nice, having some company. Mark was a really great guy. He was funny, able to hold a conversation and was genuinely interested in Amanda as a person. He seemed like he genuinely cared for Clarissa as well, and although it was too early to say it, seemed like he could really grow to love her. He was a wonderful match for her best friend. She really couldn’t be happier.

So why was Amanda left with a bitter aftertaste when she finally left?

-

Titch tried to ignore that feeling.

Phillip was a good guy. He really was. He was a hard worker and a pleasant guy overall. Just Titch’s type as well, though he’d never say that aloud. Chestnut brown hair, rosy cheeks and a smile as bright as the sun. Titch agreed to hire him after the first day and things had been smooth sailing since. They developed a routine. Titch would wake up early and do the paperwork needed to be done. Philip would finish anything else needed as Titch set out for the farm. He’d join Titch around noon and the two would hunker down in the farm. Then, they’d eat dinner together and Philip would be off home. It was a simple, comfortable routine.

Titch still couldn’t shake off that feeling around Philip though. He couldn’t quite put a pin on it, but something was off. It was like he met him somewhere before.

One day, when the sun burnt its brightest, that comfortable routine was disrupted. Titch wiped the sweat off his brow as he propped his shovel against the fence. It had been a hard day of tending to the crops on the farm, but everything was coming along nicely, especially the aubergines, despite it not being the season. Titch wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth though. He had to force the door to the house open. Damn heat, fucking up the wood, he’ll have to get the door refitted soon. After a little force, the door swung open.

“‘Xcuse me, is this where Philip Wilson works?”

Titch flinched. There was a stranger on his property. A stranger. He reached for a weapon. Anything. Anything to get them out. He swivelled around to meet them in the eye to square them up.

The first thing Titch noticed was his height. The man loomed over him and while Titch was not short by any standard, he felt absolutely tiny. While the tallness might have been threatening on any other person, it really didn’t work on him. Just made him seem really…gangly. Titch snorted. How could anyone be threatened by this elk of a man? His fists unclenched unconsciously as he crossed his arms.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, ugh,” Gangles looked down at his feet nervously. His ears turned pink from embarrassment, “Does ugh, does Phillip Wilson work here?”

“Why do you want to know?” Titch drawled. He couldn’t be fooled by this man, his employee’s life may be at stake here.

“I ugh, ugh,” Gangles turned beet red. What a weak guy. The sun wasn’t that hot. Titch tapped his foot impatiently. He would really enjoy his lunch break right now.

“Derek!”

His assistant excitedly shoved past him, embracing Gangles in a one-sided hug. Derek did not suit Gangles, but Titch kept his trap shut. Derek weakly smiled at Philip, gently hugging him back. Philip turned to grin at him and Titch felt a pang in his heart.

“What are you doing out here Derek? Thought you were busy with your work!”

He softly shook his head, “I came to deliver your lunch, you forgot it at home.”

Philip clapped him on the back and Gangles nearly toppled over. Poor guy.

“Man, I love you so much,“ Philip grinned. A pit formed in Titch’s stomach. Suddenly his head snapped back to Titch and he slapped a hand across his forehead. “I forgot to introduce you to one another! Derek, this is Titch, my boss. Titch, this is Derek, my roommate.”

“A pleasure,” Titch stuck out his hand. Derek scratched the back of his neck and shook it. His hands were surprisingly calloused but unsurprisingly massive. Titch turned his attention back to Philip.

“Lunch?”

Philip excitedly nodded. He gave Derek a quick hug before excusing himself. Titch slung an arm over him as they entered the farmhouse. He glanced over at Derek and thought to himself…

What should he have for lunch?

Chapter Text

The high after a show was something Tom looked forward to every time they performed. It felt like he was set aflame every time he was on stage. There was something truly magical about it all. The four of them bowed as the crowd cheered and clapped after the final game of the night. Another job well done. It was magnificent. No one would ever really know how Tom felt after a show. All jittery and bubbly and full of energy.

Well, no one except his friends onstage.

He turned his attention back to the present. They were at a bar, celebrating the show and chatting to some fans. Tom had snuck off to a corner to consolidate his thoughts, nursing a pint. He watched from his corner as everyone talked and laughed. It really was a magnificent time.

Tom couldn’t help but feel a little melancholic though. He sipped on his beer as he quietly watched his friends interact with their fans. They’d never meet some of them again. They’d never do the same material again. They’d never replicate the exact same excitement again. The fleetingness of it all weighed heavily upon Tom’s shoulders. That was the thing with improvised comedy he supposed. Everything the audience saw tonight was completely made up on the spot. It wasn’t like stand-up, a sketch or a play. Those all had scripts. They’d never done any of it before and they’d never do any of them again. Tom’s chest tightened at the thought of it. One day it would be their last, and they’d be lucky to know when. He took another swig of his drink.

A clap on the back shook him out of his thoughts. He turned his attention to whoever it was. Luke smiled down at him as he took the seat beside him. Tom felt his heart beat faster as Luke grinned at him. He had him wrapped around his little finger, and Tom knew it. Luke cocked his head.

“Alright there mate?”

Tom strained to give him a smile.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

-

Clarissa sipped her milkshake as she eyed Amanda suspiciously. She had been awfully quiet the entire time they’d been out. Currently, her best friend was staring out a window looking into the distance, fiddling with the ring on her hand. Clarissa sighed, placing her fingertips together.

“Amanda, something’s wrong,” Clarissa stated plainly. Amanda whipped her head around and opened her mouth, but Clarissa shushed her. “I can tell. Now the real question is, do you mind me asking?”

Amanda fiddled with her ring again and sighed.

“No, not really,” Amanda averted her eyes away from Clarissa, “Just been thinking too much again.”

“Amanda,” Clarissa reached across the table to grab her hand, “You know you can talk to me right?”

Amanda airily laughed. It made Clarissa’s heart flutter. Amanda had the best laugh in the world. It took up the entire room and made itself known. It was delightful. Clarissa squeezed her hand tightly and Amanda squeezed back.

“I’m okay, Clarissa, I really am.”

“I know,” she sighed, “But I’m your best friend, course I’m gonna worry.” A fleeting look past Amanda’s face, before she smiled again. She pulled her hand away from Clarissa’s and propped her elbows up against the table. “Anyway,” she smiled, “Tell me about how your date with Mark went.”

“Really, really well,” Clarissa smiled. She really wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying. Mark, something something, wonderful date. Clarissa felt her stomach twist as she noticed how Amanda was straining to nod along to her story. It made her feel helpless, how she couldn’t help her best friend. She wanted to put a smile on her face more than anything, but if Amanda needed the space then she would give it. She finished talking about Mark.

Amanda clapped her hands together. “I’m so happy to hear that!”

Clarissa excitedly nodded, “Enough about me, tell me how the job hunt is going!”

As Amanda started talking, things fell into their normal routine, but Clarissa couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in her stomach that something was wrong. Hopefully, whatever Amanda was dealing with would pass soon. Hopefully.

It would all be fine right?

-

It was not at all fine.

Derek sat quietly in the waiting room, drumming his fingers against his thighs. Philip had broken his leg on the farm and Derek had rushed to the hospital as soon as they called. He was now anxiously waiting for further news on Philip. This was bad. It had been a no-good, horrible day to begin with. Derek had gotten laid off from his job due to staff reductions. He’d heard rumours about it in the office and with his job being extremely remote, he kind of expected the fact that he’d be the first to go. Their washing machine then broke down and he had to call the landlord about that. She told him to fuck off cause she was in the middle of a very important job or something. Then the hospital called. So, overall, a no-good, horrible day.

Derek was dragged out of his thoughts when the nurse called him. They explained the situation to him but he really wasn’t paying attention. He was more focused on Philip lying on the hospital bed, immobilised. He’d never really seen Philip sick like that before. Usually, he’d be yammering away at something, but instead, he just lay in bed still. He was as pale as a sheet and it made Derek’s chest lurch. The nurse excused himself, letting the two of them have the whole hospital room to themselves. Derek pulled up a seat next to the bed.

“Alright there mate?”

Philip cracked open his eyes and dramatically groaned. Derek grinned. There he was, the Philip he knew.

“Feel like death warmed over,” Philip muttered, “I need to be put out of my misery Derek.”

“Can’t do that yet, I’m afraid,” Derek chuckled, “Still need you for the income.”

Philip groaned, “Even more reason to put me out of my misery. God, our income’s just been cut in half.”

“Make it double,” Derek sighed, leaning forward on the chair, “Finally got laid off.”

Philip attempted to snap his head towards Derek but winced in pain and gave up.

“Fucking hell,” Phillip moaned, “I think we’d be better off if we pursued improv.”

Derek couldn’t agree more. The two of them sat there in defeated silence for a while.

“Tell you what, I got an idea,” Philip broke the silence, “Go visit my boss, see if you could replace me for a bit. He’s a busy man, he’s bound to need an assistant. While you’re at it, see if you could get me some compensation. Kill two birds with one stone.”

“Seems like you ain’t got a brain for nothing.”

“Not just a pretty face,” Philip grinned. Derek chortled again. He stood up from his chair. “I’ll see you later yeah? Wish me luck.”

“Oh you’re gonna need it, good luck man.”

-

Luke grinned back at Sam as he made his way towards the stage.

It was just a stand-up show, as he had done a million times before, but Luke couldn’t suppress the giddiness he felt as he made his way out of the bar to the side door where he’d be entering. Luke hummed lowly as he walked. It was electrifying. Putting on a show never got old. The beam of the stage lights, a little too bright on his face. The quiet buzzing of the crowd, both from the excitement and the alcohol. The rush of blood to his face as he prepared himself. It was bliss. He never feels more alive than on stage. Tonight was no exception. No one would ever really know how Luke felt before a show. All nervous and giddy and raring to go.

Luke made his way onstage to a round of applause. He smiled widely at the crowd, scanning for a familiar face. Sam was sitting at the back of the crowd, suppressing a giggle while patting someone who Luke couldn’t quite make out on the back. The stranger sat right up.

It was Tom.

Luke couldn’t help but feel his chest swell with glee. He thought Tom couldn’t make it. Earlier, he had texted Luke profusely about how he forgot he had an earlier commitment but swore he’d do his best to make it to his set on time. Judging by how Tom was huffing and puffing, he must have run from the nearest station to the bar. It made Luke’s heart flutter. He felt his smile grow even wider as his friend waved at him from the crowd. Tonight, he’d put on the best show he could.

As the applause died down, Luke started his set with a renewed sense of purpose.

-

“Do you not like stand-up Suzanne?”

“Hmm?” Clarissa perked up, “Oh no, the comedian’s brilliant. He’s a riot.” She beamed at Mark, then went back to mulling in her thoughts. She couldn’t keep her mind off Amanda. She was still acting off and it bummed Clarissa out. She played with the straw in her drink. It was a strawberry daiquiri. It reminded Clarissa of her. She absent-mindedly laughed at the comedian’s joke. Clarissa wasn’t lying, he genuinely was really funny, but her heart wasn’t in it tonight.

Clarissa softly sighed as she turned her attention towards Mark. At least one of them was having fun she supposed. He had an arm slung around her shoulder and had his eyes locked in on the comedian on stage. It was cute she guessed.

She just wished he paid half as much attention towards her.

Whatever, that was nonsense. Mark was a good audience member. Clarissa needed to follow in his example. She turned her attention back to the comedian.

In all honesty, it was a really good set. Clarissa had a lot of fun. She was giggling by the time they stepped out of the bar. The cool night breeze swept past her as the two of them made their way across the parking lot. It was a lovely night. Clarissa turned towards her boyfriend.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight,” she smiled up at him, “It’s been lovely.”

Mark grinned, “Course, I’m glad you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

Clarissa laughed as she took him by the hand. They sauntered towards the car, hand in hand.

“You know, most people call me Clarissa,” she mused, “You’re the only person to call me Suzanne.”

“Lucky me I guess.”

“I just wonder why, y’know?” Clarissa stopped in her tracks and folded her arms.

“Oh, what, can’t I call you by your name? We live in a free country don’t we?”

“No, it’s just,” Clarissa sighed and shook her head, “Y’know what, it’s alright.” It was fine, it really was. Suzanne was her name as well, she just didn’t like it as much as Clarissa, but she supposed it was just like Mark calling her a nickname. It wasn’t that deep. It was alright.

Clarissa looked up at the night sky. There wasn’t a single cloud up there that night. It was a beautiful clear starry night. The stars were flecked against the black canvas of the infinite night like white paint. It reminded her of Amanda’s paintings. Clarissa should ask Amanda if she wanted to go star gazing with her later, she had always enjoyed it. She hadn’t noticed Mark taking her hand and walking them back to the car.

“The stars are beautiful tonight.”

“Let’s get going.”

As Clarissa stared up at the sky, she wondered if they stared back as well.

-

Titch was certainly staring back at him now.

Derek rolled on the balls of his feet, averting his eyes from the other man’s. God, was the room hot or was it just Titch? He meant him. Not Titch, Titch was very hot, not saying he wasn’t. Titch was outstandingly attractive, with soft blonde locks, baby blue eyes, high cheekbones and -

Derek actually needed to stop.

“A replacement huh?”

Titch stood up from his desk. His eyes remained hooked on Derek. Derek fiddled with his collar. God, it was sweltering in here. He stalked up to Derek like a predator hunting its prey. He pulled on his collar as it threatened to strangle him. The shorter man eyed him up and down. Derek stood tall, trying to keep his eyes on Titch. He needed this job, he actually did.

“You ever worked on a farm?”

“Grew up with my Nana planting potatoes, though aside from that, I don’t have much.”

Titch nodded solemnly. He grabbed a hold of Derek’s hands and Derek felt the sparks fly. It sent a shiver down his spine. God, he was pathetic. This was a completely normal, heterosexual interaction. He was not that touch-starved.

“You’ve got solid hands.”

God, maybe he was that touch-starved. Derek fought to keep his face at a normal temperature as Titch let go of his hands and back to his desk. He ruffled through the documents on his desk

“How are you with paperwork?”

“Used to be an Administrator for my old company,” Derek puffed up his chest with pride, “so you could say I know a thing or two.”

Titch nodded as he continued ruffling through the documents on his desk.
Derek admired the office. It was a well-kept little space. The window lit up the room and made it seem larger than it actually was. The cream-coloured rug was miraculously well-maintained and Derek could see endless folders lining the walls. No doubt all that paperwork Titch mentioned. The mahogany desk stood in the centre of the room. Overall, the office was cosy. That really was the only word to describe it.

Titch thrust a sheet out him, interrupting his train of thought, “Sign here.”

“Who? Me?”

Titch snorted, “Course you, who else is in here.”

“What is it?”

“An employee contract,” Titch rolled his eyes, exasperated, “I need a pair of extra hands since Philip is down. I’ll pay you a little more than his hourly rate, to compensate for the injury. Now, it ain’t hard work, but is it a lot, so if it’s too much then-”

“No, no we actually need to talk about the hourly rate thing, and what my job comprises of.”

“Huh?”

“It’s very kind sir, but I personally need to know if I’m the right fit for the job. What if you exploit me and my body?”

A beat passed. Titch laughed. It resonated deeply within the room. The butterflies in Derek’s stomach exploded. God, he was so cute. Titch clapped him on the back, “You’re sharp! I think I like you. Come, pull up a chair and we’ll get talking.”

“Thank you”

Titch chuckled, “How do you do it?”

-

“It was nothing,” Clarissa grinned as she pulled up the picnic blanket, “It was the least I could do.”

“Clarissa…” Amanda softly whispered, “You remembered.”

“How much you love stargazing?” Clarissa giggled, “You never stop talking about them.” Clarissa patted the spot next to her. “Come sit with me.”

Amanda plopped herself beside Clarissa. She leaned on her shoulder. It was another beautiful clear night. The stars shimmered like diamonds, scattered across the vast expanse. It stretched beyond what the eye could see. It made Clarissa feel so small as she lay underneath the ocean of stars. It was beautiful.

“It’s so rare that we get to see stars,” Amanda dreamily sighed, “New Jersey isn’t the best place to.”

“Mm,” Clarissa hummed in agreement as she stared up at the sky.

“You see that star?” Amanda pointed at one of the stars. It was the brightest of them all, “You know what it’s called honey?”

“You’ve mentioned,” Clarissa slowly started, “It’s … Sirius?”

Amanda chuckled, “Someone’s been listening to me.” Clarissa could feel the laugh echo in her bones. She giggled.

“It’s hard not to when you’re so passionate about it.”

The two of them sat in comfortable silence as they just stared. It was nice. Simply nice.

“That star is the North Star. In our time, it’s Polaris,” Amanda explained. Clarissa listened closely, “It’ll always point north, so look for it if you ever get lost.”

“If I ever get lost?”

“The stars will always guide you home,” Amanda hummed, “That’s beautiful isn’t it?”

Clarissa turned her attention to Amanda. The moon illuminated her. It made her look ethereal, with her hair loose and a soft smile splayed on her lips. For once she looked at peace, underneath the night sky. It was the first time in ages that Clarissa saw Amanda like this. All she could do was lean further on her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Clarissa responded, “It’s beautiful.”

Chapter Text

“Tom!”

Tom whipped his head around and saw Luke sprinting towards him. He tackled him into a hug. Tom nearly toppled over, but he managed to steel himself. They hugged for a little too long before Luke let go. It was a shame. Tom missed Luke’s warmth instantly. He softly admonished himself and instead turned his attention back to him.

“You made it!“ Luke’s grin was blinding. His joy was so infectious and Tom couldn’t help but smile in response.

“Of course, I would, wouldn’t miss your show for the world.”

“Still! You made it!” Luke was practically vibrating with laughter now as he bounced up and down, “I missed you, y’know? Before the show.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, of course!” Luke was almost pouting now, “We usually get to chat a little before the show, a little pep talk and all that, but you weren’t there.”

“Well, we have all the time in the world now.”

Tom didn’t know how it was physically possible, but Luke’s grin grew wider. He tugged at Tom’s sleeve to follow and they made their way towards the bar.

Tom couldn’t help but wonder if he did this with everyone else as Luke gripped his sleeve tightly. He wished he didn’t. He prayed that this was special.

Was it too selfish of him to do hope?

-

Then he’d be the most selfish man in the world.

Titch clenched the rosary necklace in his hand tightly as he made his way back to the farmhouse from the hospital. James had been hospitalised. The doctors said it was a knee injury, something about a ruptured ligament or something. They said that if he was lucky, he’d be able to get back on his feet in no time, but would never regain his level of play again. Titch prayed that wouldn’t be the case. He prayed for a miracle.

Ironic.

He never believed in God, yet still turned to him in moments of need. How pathetic. To curl up in the lap of something not there and clutch their shirt in your fists as you scream and beg for them to not take away the thing you love most in the world. Titch prayed nonetheless. He traced the shape of the crucifix under his fingers, muttering the words he had thought he had long forgotten on his walk home.

Titch was a selfish man.

He was impure and haunted and worthless and dirty. Titch didn’t pray simply to alleviate his brother’s pain. Titch prayed so that James didn’t end up on the farm with him. Titch was such a selfish man.

The left part of the field had always been James’s. It was written in their father’s will, that each brother would have half the field to cultivate and grow aubergines. James had given his half for Titch to tend to as he pursued his football career. While useless for farming aubergines - why did their father insist on growing aubergines everywhere? -Titch had cultivated the field to bear the best carrots the world had seen. He put blood, sweat and tears into ensuring that the “useless” land would be able to bear produce. He spent endless nights researching the conditions of the field and choosing the produce it would be best suited for. He then spent endless days planting, experimenting and developing the crops on the land. It paid off as the land bore him carrots unlike any he had seen before. He couldn’t wait to sell them in the market. All his hard work would be undone if James would regain control of the field. The old man only ever taught them how to grow aubergines, and James was never one to learn more about farming techniques. That was Titch’s forte. Titch felt the anger bubble and gnaw at him as he thought about it more. Their old man would forgive James instantly for not sticking to his roots, and be proud of him even as he took to the field. It never took James that much to impress their father. He’d admonish Titch for growing anything but aubergines, claiming how their land was only gifted for aubergines.

It took the world for Titch to make their father proud.

Titch prayed for the fact that James wouldn’t come and take the one thing he was good at away from him. Titch was such a selfish man.

He sighed as he jostled the farmhouse door open. It was noticeably less stiff. He’d have to thank Derek for that.

Derek was a delight to have as an assistant. He was smart, excelled at paperwork and was always willing to learn. He just brought this infectious energy with him everywhere he went, not to mention his dry wit and sharp tongue. He was the only person able to match Titch’s sense of humour. Titch had to admit that Derek was just plain fun to be around. They got along like a house on fire. Even after Philip had fully recovered, Titch kept him on as the primary assistant. Having two pairs of hands around the farm was better than just one after all and admittedly, it was just plain nice to have Derek around. Titch couldn’t pinpoint it, but somewhere along the line, he grew a soft spot for the gangly man. He’d never admit it aloud though.

“I’m home,” Titch called out to the empty corridor. He sighed again. What did he expect, for -

“Alright, Titch?” Derek popped his head out of the dining room, “I’m just setting up the table, would you mind helping me?”

Oh. He was still here.

Titch, with a slight spring in his step, headed towards the dining room. On work nights, it was just easier for them to have dinner together. Today was also technically a work night, but because Titch had spent the entire day at the hospital, he had told his assistants to go home early. Philip must’ve listened because he was nowhere in sight. It was just Derek and him. Titch couldn’t hide the smile. He didn’t know why he was so excited. It was just dinner, but it lightened his mood all the same.

Derek did in general.

Titch tucked the rosary back under his shirt as he moved towards the man in question. Derek was hovering over the dinner table, setting out the plates. He placed a hand on the small of his back, “Alright there mate?”

Derek grinned, “Doing dandy, lo - I mean Titch.”

Titch shook his head softly. He made his way towards the drawer of silverware and plucked out two forks and two knives. He made sure to grab the spoon that Derek preferred from its space in his drawer and sauntered back over to the dining table. Titch took his seat, opposite Derek and propped his elbows against the table.

“So, James is alive, he’s talking.”

“That’s a start,” Derek smiled, “It means he’s alright.

Titch nodded, before continuing, “I talked with him, and we agreed that he’d come and take back his half of the land if he doesn’t fully recover. Judging by what the doctors said, he’ll probably never make a full recovery.”

“Then I guess we have to hope he fully recovers.”

“I just said-”

“Gotta have some hope, Titch. It was a miracle you got the land to bear carrots, so maybe James could have a miracle as well. The luck runs in the family”

“... How’d you know about the carrots?”

“I’m your assistant, of course, I know about the carrots and all the effort you put into growing them.”

“...”

All Titch could do was stare dumbly at Derek. He didn’t think he cared about them. Titch had grown the carrots alone, foregoing any help. He didn’t mention it to any of his assistants. He didn’t think they’d care. Titch felt the blood rush to his cheeks before he cleared his throat and continued.

“I’ll talk to you more about it, once we’ve finalised the details, but that’s enough talk from me. Tell me, how has your day been?”

As Derek babbled about his day, Titch fiddled with the rosary. Somehow, it felt a lot cooler than it had been before. The cross sat cooly in his palm as he mangled the necklace around his hand. Derek flailed his hands around the hair so flamboyantly that Titch couldn’t help but chuckle a little. The familiar beads rolled under his fingers smoothly, comforting Titch as he listened to Derek’s tremulous voice. Derek’s smile and laughter filled him with as much and warmth comfort as the rosary did.

Maybe it was worth having some hope after all.

-

It would eat her alive though.

Amanda stood on the balcony of the pizzeria as she watched the couples below her, giggle and laugh as they left. She blew another ring of smoke and watched it rise above her, dissipating into the night. It was a calm evening. No breeze, no clouds, nothing. Amanda tilted her head up, facing the vast abyss that looked back down on her. There wasn’t a star in sight tonight. Not even her beloved Polaris.

They had all left her like Clarissa did.

Amanda chuckled as she put the cigarette between her lips once more. She had let hope sink its teeth into her once more, and like always, it had bitten off more than she could give. It tore a wound where it hurt her the most. The bitter smoke unfurled in her mouth and she sighed to let it out. It seeped out of her like mist. The cold New Jersey air welcomed it warmly, and the smoke disappeared almost as soon as it came out.

She wished her feelings would do the same.

It had been a couple of years since Mark and Clarissa had started dating. They were still going strong by all accounts. It was sweet really, their relationship. They’d recently moved to California together, on account of Mark’s job and life was going well for them. Clarissa posted a lot. Amanda always made sure to like and comment about how happy she was for them.

Who was she kidding?

Amanda was a jealous bitch. She laughed coldly at the thought and hung her head in shame. There was no point in denying it. Earlier that night, she had found the first draft of the confession she had ever written to Clarissa. It was dated exactly five years ago. Half a decade later, Amanda was still pining pitifully after her best friend. She had failed her younger self. She could imagine her, standing there, tears in her eyes as she realised what they had lost. Amanda wanted to cry, but she just took another puff of her cigarette instead. The intoxicating warmth comforted her. It would be alright. This was nothing. She clenched her eyes shut.

The first line of the letter was burnt into her memory.

“It hurts me, just how much I ache for you.”

It was never more true.

Amanda laughed as her chest ached for something she’d never have. Tonight, she would mourn. Get drunk, sleep with a cute girl, and cry the night away. Tonight, she would put her feelings to rest. Five years was too long of a time to hold onto something that she’d never have. Tonight would be the last night she would pine.

Amanda looked at the cold night sky. It was pitch dark, not a star in the sky. Not even the moon peeked in to say hello. The world was dark and dim, just like it was in Amanda’s heart. The void simply stared back at her as she wept for a love that was never lost. The tears poured out of her as she ached for what hope took from her.

It had taken her heart.

Hope clawed at the cavity in her chest. It had made a home where her heart should’ve been and now Amanda was paying the consequences. How long could she run on empty fumes for now? How long could she run on those stolen glances and hugs that lasted too long? How long must she pine for?

The universe didn’t give her an answer. It just stared coldly back.

She should’ve seen it coming.

-

Live and learn right?

Luke sipped his drink as he watched AJ and Tom whisper about something. Tom chuckled at what AJ said and placed his hand on AJ’s forearm. Something ugly reared its head in Luke’s chest but he just shook his head. Tom had always been the affectionate type. He’d always been the most physically affectionate out of all of Luke’s friends, patting someone on the shoulder and placing a hand on them to brace them. It was just who Tom was, and Luke wouldn’t change it for the world. It’s just…

Luke kind of just wished it was special. The way Tom looked at him was reserved for him only. The way Tom would place his hand on his shoulder was his to enjoy alone. The way the two of them would share a knowing smile between them after a show well done.

Luke was jealous, and he shouldn’t be. That was alright though. Live and learn right?

Luke sipped his drink again. He was just being immature. He needed to knock it off. It was fine. This was fine.

At least they put on a good show tonight. If Luke could be so bold, he’d say it was probably one of their best yet. He had enjoyed the long-form at the end especially. It was one of the rare times that Tom and he played a couple, and Luke had to say that they did a brilliant job. The way that Tom died in his arms almost felt real. Tom had always been an excellent actor, but as he choked dramatically in Luke’s arms, Luke couldn’t help but genuinely panic at the thought of losing him. He grabbed onto Tom’s shirt desperately, trying to get him to stay with him. Tom’s “I love you” was paired with a gentle forehead touch as he went limp. Luke started heaving and screaming at the world for taking his husband away before Sam’s character dragged him off stage. Luke grabbed desperately onto his shirt, denying the fact that Tom was gone. Tom, in all his stoic glory, just remained there limp on the ground. It was like his world was falling apart. The earth swallowed him whole. Luke was filled with genuine rage as he confronted AJ, his husband’s murderer. Luke remembered how his vision flashed red as he barreled towards AJ and the spite he delivered the last line with. It dripped from his mouth like poison.

Maybe he was a little too invested in Tom’s death to be healthy. Whatever, at least the audience enjoyed it. The applause was deafening as they closed the show, but it was Tom’s side hug after the long form that truly set him on fire. The hug was short, just a check-in on how Luke was after the very intense final fight scene, accompanied by a whisper of “You ok?” and a gentle rub, but Tom’s touch felt electrifying. It grounded him. It burnt. It was soothing. It was everything.

Luke sighed as he got up from the bar. It was enough moping. Tom was simply being polite, that was all. He was being a considerate, good friend checking in on Luke after a very intense moment. Tom was a good guy. It was nothing special. He needed to stop bringing down the mood. He sauntered up towards the pair of them.

“What are you guys laughing at?”

AJ and Tom shared a knowing look and broke out in matching grins. Luke was suddenly extremely aware of how they towered over him. He clenched his jaw. Then suddenly, Tom clapped him on the back. Luke guffawed in surprise.

“You’ve been holding back on us Luke!” Tom grinned.

“Yeah! That last scene was incredible, we were just talking about it,” AJ nodded, “Never thought you’d have that much rage in you!”

“Oh,” Luke looked down at his feet, his cheeks flushed, “Well, it was nothing, I’m sure that-”

“Oh please, stop being modest!” Tom slung an arm over his shoulder, “You knocked it out of the park tonight!”

“He what?”

“Knocked it out of the park? Did a great job? Honestly AJ-”

Luke zoned out as Tom teased AJ. His arm was still around him. Tom was alive. He was alive and well, and he was with Luke. That was more than enough for him. Luke leaned into the touch. This wasn’t anything special to Tom, but it was for Luke.

It was more than enough.

-

It would never feel like it though.

Clarissa sighed as she stared up at the sky from the balcony. Los Angeles was a city that never slept. She couldn’t make out the stars at all. The skyscrapers reached towards the clouds, caging the city beneath it. The sky sat out of her reach, locked away from her. Clarissa sighed again and turned back to the drink in her hand. A beer. Mark had always said it never suited her to be drinking something so manly, but the drink always comforted her a way that nothing else would. Well, except Amanda.

But just like the sky, she was out of her grasp.

Clarissa missed Amanda dearly.

Mark and her had a fight, for the fourth time that month. Clarissa didn’t even remember what it was about. It started with how Mark was always the one cooking and ended with him storming out of the flat, with her yelling after him. He was probably staying at his friend’s house or something. Clarissa didn’t know. She didn’t really care.

She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. This was childish. Clarissa still had Amanda, she was one phone call away. Still, it wasn’t the same as having her here, with her.

Clarissa took another swig of her pint. She had the perfect life. A loving boyfriend, a flat in the big city and an adoring best friend. What was she complaining about? What was there to miss? She wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand and choked out a laugh. Clarissa had all she could wish for, yet she still yearned.

Clarissa turned back to the night sky, staring into the great beyond. Did it even see her? Did it even recognise she was staring at it? And dare she ask, was it staring back?

She wasn’t so sure about that one.

Her phone buzzed. It was Mark. Instinctively, she opened the message.

Mark <333

Can you call rn? We need to talk about tonight.

Clarissa

Sure!! Give me a second <33

That was the last thing she wanted to do right now, but it was ok. She could be mature about this. She took one last swig and set down the beer bottle. The ring dial echoed into the night. Clarissa sighed as she steeled herself.

It would all be alright if she could be mature about it, right?

-

What good did that ever do?

Tom stared at the ceiling of the hotel. He couldn’t sleep. He just couldn’t. The long form kept replaying in his head. Tom turned to face the wall.

It wasn’t like he and Luke hadn’t played couples before. They did it all the time, all of them. They tried not to typecast themselves, but Luke and he only really played couples just starting to get to know each other. This was the first time they had played spouses.

It felt so real, too real even.

Tom recalled the way that Luke’s character’s eyes would soften whenever he spoke. He remembered how he could always feel the laser focus of Luke’s character’s gaze on the back of his head as he spoke. He could almost feel the way that Luke kissed his knuckles as he greeted his husband. The ghost of those kisses had left their mark on Tom. He looked at his hand in wonder and sighed. He needed to stop daydreaming and actually dream.

Still, he couldn’t help it. For thirty or so minutes, he had everything he wanted. For thirty minutes or so, he was someone more important than a friend to Luke. For thirty minutes or so, he had Luke’s love. It was tantalising.

The memory of Luke holding him was burnt into him. The way his hands shook, the quiet sobbing that only grew louder with every breath and his nails digging into Tom’s chest as he refused to let go. He blabbered about how he would love him forever before finally being dragged off.

Tom almost believed him, until Sam cracked a morbid joke about necrophilia, then he remembered where he was and tried to shove down a laugh as he lay limp on the floor.

Tom turned again to stare at the ceiling. It was extremely unprofessional of him, to blur the lines between work and his personal life, but he couldn’t help it. Tom yearned for that love he had on stage.

He knew it was too good to be true though.

-

The problem was remembering it.

Derek rubbed circles into Titch’s back as he sobbed in his arms. It was the dead of night and Derek should have been home long ago, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t mean to pry into Titch’s business: he knew how much he valued his privacy, so when Derek found the door to his office slightly ajar, he moved to close it. At that moment, James had burst out of his office, cursing Titch as he left. Derek shoved himself out of the way as James stormed out, practically throwing himself on the wall to avoid his warpath. He found Titch with his head in his hands, a whiskey glass broken on the floor and plans for the left side of the field strewed across the floor. He knocked on the door frame and Titch looked up like a deer caught in headlights.

“Alright there, mate?”

That’s how they found themselves in the position they were in now.

God, Derek was a monster. As he continued rubbing circles into Titch’s back, Derek couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that Titch trusted him enough to be so vulnerable with him. Derek couldn’t help but etch Titch’s facial features into his memory. He looked … soft. Fragile, delicate, like the porcelain teapot his mother had reserved for important guests. Derek remembered when he accidentally broke it and begged for forgiveness from her. She gently shushed him and told him that the cracks would give it character, once she figured out how to repair it. The porcelain teapot sat proudly on the top shelf, with its cracks filled in with gold. His mother was right, the scars made it all the more beautiful. Derek placed a hand on the small of Titch’s back, as his breathing slowed to a more manageable pace. If he squinted, he could make out the tiny scar that lay on the back of Titch’s neck. He wanted to kiss it. Derek was going to hell for that. Here Titch was, crying about his brother and all Derek was thinking about was how lovely Titch was.

They sat in silence as Titch regained control of his breathing. His haggard breaths softened after a while. Derek’s hand remained firmly on his back. Finally, Titch turned towards Derek. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

“... I’m sorry.”

“For what, love?”

Fuck. That just slipped out. It was alright. It was just a term of endearment. Nothing more, nothing less. Derek squashed down his panic as Titch continued.

“For being such a mess, I’m sorry, you had to see this-”

“Shh, it’s alright, Titch,” Derek placed his other hand on Titch’s chest, rubbing him gently, “You’re not a mess. Just human, love.”

Titch looked up at him, his eyes wide with something unreadable. Derek stared back into those blue, cerulean eyes of his. He fought to keep his blush under control. They stared into each other's eyes for the longest time, before Titch turned away.

“...I can’t remember the last time I did something like this with someone,” Derek didn’t know if he was imagining it, but he could almost see Titch’s ears turning pink. It was cute.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Derek almost whispered as he moved his hand to Titch’s shoulder, “If not, we could just, stay like this if you want to.”

“Just, hold me please,” Derek didn’t need to be told twice. He wrapped his arms around Titch tightly. One of the only useful things about having gangly, long arms was his ability to give excellent hugs. Titch latched onto him, like moss on a rock. He dug his nails into Derek’s forearms, but he didn’t mind. If Derek closed his eyes, he could pretend that they were doing this simply because they were lovers, and not just because Titch needed it desperately. He was such a bad person. They stayed entangled in one another’s arms in silence for what felt like centuries. Titch’s voice almost came in a whisper.

“...He told me dad should’ve never adopted me.”

A pit formed in Derek’s stomach. He kept quiet, as Titch found the rhythm of his words.

“Our father adopted me when I was eight and he was nine. At the adoption centre, I remember how he grabbed my hand and called me the one. I thought he was an angel,” Titch sharply inhaled before continuing shakily, “We used to be so close, y’know? Stuck to each other like glue. I, I really don’t know what changed. I miss him, I miss us. When did all the fights begin? He was my best friend and, and-”

Derek gently squeezed Titch as his breath hitched in his throat. From his position, he could see the tiny scar more clearly now. It was milky white, standing out from the freckles that splattered down Titch’s neck. Without thinking, Derek placed a soft kiss on the scar.

Fuck.

Derek shifted from his position, trying to put some space between him and Titch. He tried to get up-

Titch grabbed onto his hand.

“Please, do that again,” he begged. Derek looked down at Titch as he pleaded. It was so odd, seeing him look so meek and vulnerable. This wasn’t the man who he had seen commanding the fields with such efficiency. This was a boy, scared and afraid. Titch clung to his hand like a lifeline.

What choice did Derek have but to oblige?

Derek sank back onto the couch, taking Titch’s hand into both of his and placing a tender kiss on his knuckles. His lips barely touched his skin, but it felt electric. If Derek closed his eyes, he could pretend that this was something more than just giving his friend comfort. He slowly made his way up his arm, littering it with kisses. He wanted to remember how every part of Titch felt under his lips. Every scar, every freckle, every little imperfection would be explored and memorised. He made his way up to Titch’s shoulder, pausing when he got to his neck. He looked up at Titch.

He looked Elysian.

His strawberry-blond hair framed his perfect cheekbones in a way that made him look like a deity. His blue eyes twinkled with a light Derek had never seen before in anyone and his perfectly rosy red lips parted in a perfect o shape as he breathed.

Derek wanted to worship the ground where he sat.

“Do you want me to stop?”

There was still time, still time to stop himself indulging too far and ruining Titch. There was still time to-

“Never, please.”

He had to stop this madness. Derek sat up properly, so he looked down on Titch.

“Titch, I know things are rough right now, but I don’t want you to live with something you’ll regret-”

“Then let’s pretend for one night, one night that I’m all yours.”

Derek paused. He stared at Titch. Titch stared back. The two of them stared at each other. Finally, Derek relented.

“Alright, love.”

Derek pressed a kiss on Titch’s lips tentatively. Derek regretted that choice. He tasted like elixir and nectar. He tasted of the divine. Derek kissed Titch like a dying man, pressing his lips into his. Titch’s mouth slotted into his perfectly. His lips were so tender, like a child’s dream that had yet to be crushed by the ruthlessness of the world around them. Derek softly moaned into the kiss as he leaned into it. Kissing Titch felt like the world was finally right.

For one night, Derek would have the world in his hands.

Chapter Text

Amanda gently knocked on the doorframe as Clarissa stood outside the pizzeria waiting. She had heard the entire conversation with Mark. It was too late. She sighed when she realised that Clarissa would probably never hear her from this distance. She gently approached Clarissa, placing her hands on her shoulders. She didn’t even turn to face her. She just kept staring into the distance, waiting. Amanda wanted to reassure Clarissa, wanted to scream, wanted to shout but she couldn’t even form the words she wanted to say. They died in her throat before they could even be heard. Those unsaid words would be the death of her. Amanda was drowning in the silence.

Clarissa didn’t even notice.

Clarissa peered inquisitively at Amanda. Her gaze softened as they made eye contact. Clarissa’s soft doe eyes squinted as she smiled at Amanda. Clarissa had always had the biggest smile. Amanda used to tease her about how she always shut her eyes when she smiled widely as if her smile was too big for her face. Secretly, Amanda loved it. It reminded her of the cat that used to visit the pizzeria occasionally. She and Clarissa would always try to feed it treats, but the cat would slink back into the night shying away from them. It took a long time for it to warm up to them, but the way that the cat slowly blinked at them made it all worth it. Clarissa would smile right back at the cat, eyes shut and all. It was adorable. The cat had disappeared one day, never to be seen again. She hoped the universe was kind to it.

Amanda wished the universe was kind to all of them.

“Listen,” Amanda started, holding onto her shoulder. The cool metal of the wedding band burnt into her hand. Mrs Jenkins had sent her out with it after she realised that Clarissa hadn’t taken it with her. “I’ve got-"

“CLARISSAAAAAAAAAA”

A voice came from beyond the hills. Amanda snapped her head towards it. It was Mark, barrelling down the hill towards the pizza restaurant. Clarissa gasped and turned towards him. Amanda could see her grin grow even wider as Mark sprinted. It was a scene out of a fairytale. Prince Charming comes down and saves the princess, finally reuniting with their love.

Did that make Amanda the witch then? The villain? Could she bear to play that role, when she loved the protagonist oh so much?

Amanda didn’t know the answer to that, but there was one thing she knew for sure.

She would always be there for Clarissa, no matter the cost.

“Clarissa, honey,” Amanda grabbed onto Clarissa’s hands, slipping on the ring without her noticing. Clarissa panted as she faced her. She was practically radiating with joy as she grinned at her. Amanda wanted to throw up. Instead, she just nodded softly. “It’s okay,” she brought her delicate hands to her lips and softly pressed a kiss on her knuckles. Amanda took a step back. She didn’t know if she was reassuring herself, or Clarissa, but it hardly mattered. All that mattered was that Clarissa was happy. That was more than enough. It was time to move on.

Clarissa’s eyes drifted to her hands and she let out a little yelp in surprise. She stuck out her hand to admire her ring. “You put the ring on with your tongue!”

Amanda sarcastically shrugged and rolled her eyes, “Like I said, I got the tongue.” Clarissa went back to staring at Mark barrelling down the hill. He was running at an alarming speed towards the pizzeria. Amanda never knew he had it in him. She stared at Clarissa’s back as she muttered under her breath, “But you still choose him, ok.”

Amanda sighed as she headed back towards the pizzeria. Her father had probably started on another batch of dough and would need a hand in the -

“What?”

Amanda awkwardly laughed, “I’m playing! I-You know you’re wrghhh, but you know..” she sharply drew in a breath, “You’re hot, but it was a lust thing, so you just…”

“What?” Clarissa laughed, “Stop it go away!”

“It’s just… we could have a threesome, I don’t know.”

Amanda wanted to bury herself in the ground. Thank god Clarissa wasn’t paying attention to her. She was too busy focusing on Mark, who had his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. Amanda, with no other choice, grinned as Clarissa shooed her away.

“Stop distracting me! I’m in the moment!”

Anyone with a functioning set of eyes could see that. Amanda pecked her friend’s shoulder and scurried away, leaving the two of them to have their “moment.” Bile clawed at her throat and tears fought to make their way out, but Amanda wasn’t going to do this now. She would be who she was always meant to be, the supportive best friend. There would be no villain in this fairytale to speak. Just people doing their best to have their happily ever after. Amanda jogged into the kitchen and slammed the door open. Her father peered up at her, from his crouched position and made an expression that Amanda couldn’t read. Well, not like Amanda could, she wasn’t very good with faces and all that.

“What’s wrong?”

-

“Nothing, just … nothing.”

“Stop your bullshit, boy, you’re crying a puddle in my tent.”

Titch hadn’t even noticed that he was crying, but Lady Margaery was right. Titch wiped the tears off his face and took a sip of his tea. It was as salty as the sea. Fuck’s sake.

“Now, I’ve already stocked up with tears this month, so you’re just wasting precious ingredients, so what is it? Spit it out.”

“...You just sell drugs, you don’t need tears.”

“Stop deflecting!” Lady Margaery threw her hands in the air, exasperated. All Titch could do was sigh, setting down his mug. He drummed his fingers alongside the mug, staring at his feet. Where to begin? When did he realise that he was in too deep? When did he realise that he loved Derek? And when did he start hurting him?

Titch was a fool to have hurt the man he loved. The tears rolled down his cheeks once more, splattering against the floor of Margaery’s tent. He was such a mess.

Lady Margaery sighed and shuffled off her seat. She gently patted his back with a wooden spoon. Titch snorted.

“I’ve got some old whiskey round here somewhere, stuff that hasn’t been made since the eighteen hundreds. We’ll get some liquor into your system yeah? Would that make you feel better?”

“... You can’t solve everything with drugs, Lady Margaery.”

“I can and I will,” Titch lifted his head to see her place her hands on her hips, “Especially if it gets you talking.”

Titch let out a hum in appreciation. Lady Margaery had always been a simple woman. She was easy to understand, though hard to love. She may have been an enigma to the rest of the town, but she was just Lady Margaery to Titch. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“It’s Derek. My…assistant.”

“Bit harsh to call a lover that innit?” Margaery chortled, “So what’s wrong with him?”

“Well, for a start, you broke his fingers,” Titch scoffed, “But I’ve broken his heart. I’ve been such an idiot. He’s always been there for me, and I’ve been too damned focused to see that. Derek’s been my anchor for these last months, and more. He’s moved the goddamn world for me, and I can’t even defend him from a little old lady.” Titch clutched the mug closer to his chest, “I’m a damn coward, I am.”

A beat passed before Magery sighed. Titch didn’t notice how she had moved back to the seat across him, so he nearly dropped his mug in shock when she finally made a noise. She placed her palms together and muttered something in a language didn’t understand, before pointing her palms towards him.

“You’re so lucky I’m pitying you right now, or I would’ve slapped the shit right outta you,” Margaery sighed, “You were a coward, sure, but you’ll be a bigger one if you don’t act on these revelations you're having right now, boy.”

“... What do you mean?”

“From how I see it, you’ve got two choices,” Margaery extended her palms towards him, as if to present two pills for him, “You stay here and mope forever, or you man up and take action. You don’t have much time, but you have a choice now, so act on it.”

“... You’re much better than the priest at church.”

“Don’t compare me to those dirty old bastards, all they know is how to desecrate a poor boy’s body.”

“... Don’t say that.”

Margaery sighed and pinched the space between her eyebrows, “Sorry, sorry, old habits die hard.”

A beat passed.

“I’m scared, Lady Margaery,” Titch whispered, turning away from her.

“Of what? He’s made it very clear he loves you and just from that, he’s probably got a constitution of a saint.”

“But I hurt him, so much.”

“It’s up to him to forgive then. You’ll never know unless you stop moping.”

“What if he rejects me?”

“Then you learn what you can and move on. Your life’s too short. You gotta call the shots, not the other way round.”

“… I should come visit more often.”

“Bah! And take up my time with customers? I don’t think so.”

“You’re funny.”

“Hmm,” she hummed absent-mindedly. Titch took another sip of his tea and drummed his fingers against the side of the mug. The two sat there in silence for a while. Titch sat there, listening to the rain patter against the roof of Lady Margaery’s tent. It was comforting somehow. It reminded him of the days he spent with James and their father. Somedays, the rain would come on them suddenly and their father would scoop them up, each under one arm, and run back home with them. He’d then bundle them up in all the blankets he could find and get the old fire going. James and he would sit, bundled like burritos and giggle about how stupid they looked. Their father would then return from the kitchen with three mugs of hot cocoa and if they had been extra good, marshmallows. Titch’s was always too hot, and James’s was too cold, so they’d always end up switching. Titch could almost taste the scalding hot liquid now as he reminisced. James would tell him about everything, football, the cute girl in his class, and everything in between. Titch, in turn, would tell him about school and how he wanted to get revenge on his bullies and about the farm and how to farm better crops. James would sit there and listen, hanging onto every word. He’d then butt in with his own suggestion about something and they would plan some big convoluted plan that could never happen in real life, but they were partners in crime. In those moments, Titch’s insecurities would disappear and he would feel like a proper brother to James. They were on even ground when huddled under those blankets. No petty rivalry, no brotherly feud, nothing could stop the two of them when they had a plan in mind. They were James and Titch, Titch and James. They were unstoppable.

Those days came less frequently as they got older. The space between them grew wider and some days, when Titch looked at him, all he could see was a stranger. But those were the good old days. He would do anything to get them back.

“Lady Margaery,” Titch wondered aloud, “What would it take for another spell?”

“Oh?” Margaery grinned as she fiddled with the trinket box that had lay in the far corner of the table, “You interested boy?”

“Interested is an understatement.”

-

“You could’ve had me fooled,” Sam ran a hand through his hair, “Who am I kidding? You’re absolutely smitten.” Sam dryly laughed.

Luke felt the blood rush to his cheeks and quickly looked away. Why did he agree to have this conversation with Sam? It was embarrassing, sitting on his best mate’s couch talking about his feelings of all things like some lovesick teenager. He couldn’t ignore Sam’s text though. He was washing up the dishes in his flat when Sam had texted him.

Sam

Mate, are you free tonight? We need to talk

Luke

Is it urgent?

Sam

Kind of, it’s about the improv group

Luke

Why can’t we just call?

Sam

Not that kind of convo
Get your ass over, I know you have nothing on

Luke

Someone’s bossy
I’ll be there in 30

As soon as Luke had entered the flat, he had been assaulted with Sam’s question.

“Are you and Tom fighting?”

“Hello, to you too, how lovely of you to let me take off my jacket and make myself comfortable,” Luke babbled as he took off his shoes, ignoring how flushed his face suddenly felt. Had it always been so hot in Sam’s flat?

“Cut the crap, we need to know.”

“...Who’s we?”

That’s how they had found themselves lounging on Sam’s worn-out coach, airing out Luke’s dirty laundry. AJ and Sam had apparently noticed something off about the group dynamic after the long form. He didn’t have to say which one. Tom and Luke had seemed more distant than ever, an unspoken tension having developed. They couldn’t seem to be in a room alone with one another, barely talked and generally avoided touching each other on stage. For an improv group like theirs, this was a huge deal. AJ and Sam apparently spent the entirety of their weekend brainstorming what could be wrong, until Sam decided to suck it up and text him.

Luke had been mortified at Sam’s recountings of the events of the past couple of weeks. He never thought he could blush as hard as he did. He spluttered out something about indignity before Sam drop-kicked him in the gut with another question about if he liked Tom or not.

“Y’know,” Sam chuckled after catching his breath at Luke's indignifying response, “I told AJ to suck on an egg for suggesting that idea. I owe him an apology.”

“Bit harsh innit?”

“Well with the way you two have been acting around each other, I think you fancying him was the least plausible theory.”

“It can’t have been that bad.”

“Oh please, did you not hear any of what I said?”

Luke averted his eyes away from Sam and fidgeted with his collar. He’d be the first to admit, that things had been awkward since he had come to realise that, he might have had the teensiet crush on Tom after the long form. It was hard to get back to normal after that when so much of normal became Tom. Suddenly, all the love songs that were on the radio were about him. All the cheesy romance novels were about him. Everything in the shop windows reminded him of Tom. Luke had walked past a build-a-bear and found an enormous teddy bear on display, about half the height of Tom. Luke’s bank account suffered heavily after that particular little revelation. He was now eighty pounds poorer but one large bear with a ring on his finger richer, who said I love you every time he pressed its stomach.

Luke didn’t know how he managed to avoid these feelings before, but they were overwhelming now. Everywhere he looked, all he could notice was Tom. How did he not realise his own feelings?

Deep down, Luke knew why: he was a coward simply put. He’d always known about the infatuation he had with Tom, but he’d buried those thoughts deep down. He’d always been afraid of change, and what would happen to their friendship if he let these feelings consume him. Things had been fine until Luke was confronted with the possibility head-on in the long form. For those thirty minutes or so, Luke had his heart’s hidden desire cut out of him and put on display for all the world to see. The desire now had no place in his heart and thus occupied his mind instead. It was all he could think about when looking at Tom. It was too much.

So Luke avoided him.

Luke sighed and leaned forward in his seat on the couch, “I really have to sort out all this huh?”

“Yeah, you should,” Sam snorted before placing a hand on Luke’s shoulders. His hand was a lot smaller than Tom’s. “You really should.”

Luke groaned, flinging himself back dramatically on the couch. He really thought he had put all the relentless pining back in his teenage years, or even his twenties. Now, here he was, his improv group on the brink of collapsing if he didn’t do anything about it. He shielded his eyes from Sam’s blinding living room lights.

“What a mess huh?”

-

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” Mark chuckled as he leaned forward in the loveseat, “What a goddamn mess.”

Clarissa tucked her legs towards her on the bed. They had rented a hotel room for the night, to celebrate the wedding night. The hotel, despite the last-minute booking, managed to get some decor up, with a bottle of champagne by the bed table and roses strewed across the bed. Mark picked her up bridal style and they crossed over the threshold together giggling. Clarissa felt like the luckiest girl in the world as they entered the hotel room together, as husband and wife. It was everything Clarissa could have wanted.

So why did she freeze when Mark kissed her?

It wasn’t like they hadn’t kissed before, made out even. Clarissa was no stranger to passion, although she was saving it for marriage. She had been bracing herself for the time that it would come, when she’d be taken apart and put back together as her mother had eloquently put it. So when Mark kissed her with a passion she had never felt, it was normal that she’d be a little surprised. Mark’s kiss was nowhere like the chaste, soft kisses she was used to. It was hungry and devouring and it was all consuming. Clarissa felt like a rabbit being torn apart lovingly by a wolf, as it devoured its meal. It hurt, the way Mark dug into her hair and held her up against the wall, but this was love, right? Love was sharp and brutal sometimes, like how Mark’s teeth dug into her neck and nearly drew blood. Love was about giving all to the person who you loved. It wasn’t all soft kisses to the knuckles or shoulder. It wasn’t all gentle touches and supportive smiles. It wasn’t like the way Amanda loved her-

Oh.

Amanda loved her.

Clarissa loved the way Amanda loved her.

Clarissa loved Amanda.

She was fucked.

Clarissa ripped herself away from Mark’s grasp as she gasped for air. Fuck, what had she done? She turned to stare at Mark. Where did he fit into the puzzle? Did Clarissa love him too? What was she doing with Mark? The thoughts swarmed her head as she scrambled towards the bed. She needed to be calm and rational. She did love Mark. She loved his kindness, his patience with her and his affection. Sure he may not have been the most supportive at times -

Amanda was though.

- But he still cared about her regardless. She loved him. She really, really did. She could be deserving of the affection he gave her, she’d make sure of it. He really did his best. He planned all their dates: he took her to comedy shows that he enjoyed; took her everywhere he went, all his work conferences, his outings, his hiking trips and he bought her everything she ever wanted -

“You never usually wear frills, Clarissa,” Amanda was frowning in her memory as she twirled around in the dress Mark bought her, “You hate them.”

“It’ll grow on me.”

It never did.

- Ok, so what if the gifts and plans he made weren’t the best? It was the effort that counted right? And it wasn’t as if Clarissa knew what he liked any better-

Oh.

Clarissa looked at the stranger she had married.

She didn’t know a thing about him. She knew he liked comedy shows, hiking and girls in frilly dresses, but only because he told her. What were his dreams for the future? Did he want children? What was his favourite colour? What was his deepest insecurity? What were his hobbies, interests and personality like outside of spending time with her?

Who was he?

Clarissa never loved Mark. She loved the idea of him, of a gentleman with a heart of gold and a temper that needed to be tamed. She loved the idea of a broken man who she could fix and call her own. She loved what who he could be for her, and not who Mark actually was.

Clarissa’s breathing grew shaky as the tears welled in her eyes. It felt like she had forgotten to breathe. Each breath she drew was painstaking as she gasped for air. Her breathing grew more frantic as the tears fell from her eyes. Clarissa wept like a little girl on her wedding bed, in front of a stranger she never got to know in five years.

That made her cry harder.

It took her an hour to finish crying. Her eyes were puffy and swollen and all Clarissa wanted was to drink away her sorrows. Mark, bless him, just sat there uncomfortable on the loveseat. He offered her a glass of water and a towel, which she greatly appreciated. He didn’t prompt her to start talking, but something in the back of her mind told her that he deserved to have the truth, so she told him. She told him everything. She told him about how she hardly knew him and how he barely knew her. She told him how he hated the name Suzanne and the dresses he bought her. She told him how she didn’t know if she loved him.

The only thing Mark did was listen to her. He had always been good at that. The problem was, was that it always felt like he was judging her. It was the case now, with the way his eyes shifted away from her as he placed a hand on his chin, stroking his beard. It left her with a pit in her stomach as his eyes shifted back to her.

“...What are we going to do now?”

“...”

Mark could only sigh as he got up from his seat. Clarissa couldn’t see what he was doing as he turned away from her, but the clinking of metal against a table told her all she needed to know. He left her mother’s ring on the table. Clarissa wanted to vomit. He turned back to her, tears welling in his eyes.

“I tried really hard to make this work,” he croaked out. His voice had gone all hoarse. All Clarissa could do was nod, as her heart turned itself inside out. He turned away from her again, “We never signed any papers. Thank god for that. I’m going to leave this room and pay for it. I’m then going to drive back to California.I don’t want you to follow me tonight, or the next night. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t ask my friends about me. Don’t even think about me. I will text you when I’m ready to see you again. Just… give me some space.”

Clarissa wanted to beg. She wanted to scream, tell Mark she could make it work if he gave her a shot. Her thoughts spiralled around her, binding her to bed. She was paralysed. All she could do was give the meekeset of nods. As Mark turned the handle of the door, her voice finally escaped the confines of her body.

“I’m sorry, really.”

-

“Yeah, you should be,” Derek rolled his eyes as he drawled. Honestly, he should still be mad at Titch for getting his fingers broken, but Derek had never been one to hold grudges. He looked so sincere now, as Titch grasped onto his one good hand. He didn’t look broken like he did that night long ago, far from it. Titch radiated with this determination and confidence that Derek had never seen before. It melted his heart.

“I owe you an apology too.”

“Yes, you do,” Derek spat out those words with a little more frustration than intended, but hey. He needed to stand up for himself because no one else would do it for him as Titch had demonstrated earlier. He didn’t deserve to put his life on the line every time Titch needed something. Lady Magaery may have only broken one - or rather two - of his fingers this time but still, Derek needed to set up boundaries. He was worth more than some stupid aubergines. Derek knew his self-worth and he was sticking to it. Still, he couldn’t help but turn back to face Titch and feel his gaze soften physically. He really couldn’t stay mad for too long, he’d never been good at that.

Titch, despite Derek’s little outburst, continued undeterred, “But not just that!” He held onto Derek’s hand, softly this time, “Derek, I love you.”

A beat passed. Derek swallowed as he stared at the fields laid out before them. He couldn’t bear to look at Titch right now. He’d probably burst out crying. He softly whispered, “Yeah?”

Titch placed a hand over his shoulder, almost going on his tippie toes “Please, grow this land with me!”

“Alright,” Derek could feel the stupid grin stretch across his face as he finally turned to face Titch. By god, he was beautiful. The sunset cast an orange glow across the field, but there were still some sunrays that caught Titch at just the right angle. His golden hair lit up from behind cast a halo around his head. His skin glistened under the dying sun with sweat but made him glow and his startling blue eyes were as calm as Derek had ever seen them, dimmed with an affection only directed towards him.

Titch looked like an angel on earth and Derek loved it.

The image was ruined as he cracked a stupid joke “And I will give you the most unrelenting aubergine you’ve ever seen!” The lines around his mouth creased as he chuckled at his own joke. As Titch turned his head away from Derek laughing, he could make out the mole on the side of his neck. If Derek squinted, he could make out the freckles that lined Titch’s collarbone.

The imperfections made Titch all the more beautiful.

“Titch,” Derek grinned. He was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing, mere centimetres apart. If he leaned in, he’d be able to taste his lips on his once more. Titch’s hands suddenly felt too hot and too heavy.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

Titch didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled Derek down as he tiptoed to meet him halfway. Derek didn’t taste elixir and nectar this time: instead, he tasted of honey and the earth. Titch tasted of everything good in the world. His lips were chapped and rough, but Derek pressed harder still. He didn’t care. He wound his arms around Titch as they kissed, holding him in his arms. Titch deepened the kiss, pressing into Derek harder. Titch tried to dip him, but the height difference made that task impossible. The kiss was messy and rough, but Derek never felt more alive.

After all, he was holding the world in the palm of his hands.

Chapter Text

It was pitch black by the time Amanda had gotten home from work. She sighed as she dragged her feet through the threshold of her apartment. It had been a rough day in the office. Some bigwig was apparently coming by at the end of the week which sent her whole department into a frenzy. She plucked her heels off her feet and groaned as they were finally free from their confines. Fuck did it feel good. Amanda flicked on the light switch as she trudged into her tiny living room. She had no plans for the evening except to curl into a ball and rot away until the next day.

Amanda was depressed just thinking about it.

She pulled her phone out from her purse, scanning over her notifications. It was mostly just a couple of rogue emails from websites she barely recognised, a notification from Tinder and a text from her dad about the pizzeria. Nothing that interesting. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to detangle it, and sighed again.

Not for the first time that night, her thoughts drifted back to Clarissa.

The news hadn’t shocked anyone. With how quickly they had gotten married, it was no wonder that they had gotten “divorced.” Well, Tim didn’t have any power to marry people yet, so Clarissa’s DIY Wedding didn’t even count. Sure, Petunia was a little upset, but she got over it to support Clarissa. Her father baked Clarissa a special little pizza pie and Tim tried to do his introspective preaching and analysis of Clarissa’s soul once more, but Amanda shushed him before he could get out another word. Amanda remembered the way Clarissa couldn’t look her in the eyes as she announced it. She remembered the way Clarissa flinched as she tried to go in for a hug. She just hurriedly left after she delivered the news, leaving her alone once more. Amanda hadn’t heard a word from Clarissa ever since the announcement.

It stung like hell.

Whatever, she was supposed to be getting over her anyway. Amanda pried open her fridge, scanning for something to bide her time with. She settled on a can of Diet Coke before gently shutting her door. Amanda flopped onto her sofa and sighed. God, she would do anything for a pack of cigarettes right now. But no, she was trying to wean herself off them for the hundredth time. It wouldn’t work, but it didn’t hurt to try. It would be alright. She could do without them. The can opened with a satisfying click and fizzle. The cold drink slid down her throat. Refreshing.

Amanda closed her eyes for a moment. There was so much going on. The project needed to be finished before her manager’s arbitrary deadline. Amanda personally thought he could shove a-

Her phone rang. Amanda shot up. She scrambled for her phone, cursing herself for leaving it on the other side of the couch at that moment.

It was Clarissa.

Fuck. Was she ok? Clarissa wasn’t usually the type to call. Amanda’s hands shook as she pressed the accept call button.

“Hello?”

It was her. She sounded as she usually did, slightly nervous, but she didn’t sound like she was in pain. Amanda let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She answered her.

“Hey, you ok honey?”

“Yeah, I’m alright, how are you?”

Amanda scowled, “This ain’t about me honey, you don’t usually call.”

Clarissa hollowly laughed, “What can’t I check in with a friend?” Amanda felt her chest tighten before Clarissa sighed. “You’ve always known when something was wrong.”

Amanda hummed and toyed with her hair, “Well, I am your best friend after all. What’s up?”

“Ugh, this is awkward, but I kind of wanted to talk in person, do you mind if I come over? If you’re busy then don’t worry about it, I just wanted to-”

Amanda chuckled, “I’m free for the evening honey, my door is always open.”

“Oh,” Clarissa said in an unusually hushed tone, “I’ll be there soon.”

As she ended the call, Amanda finally came to terms with how fucked she was. Ah fuck. She was so royally screwed. She hadn’t seen Clarissa in weeks, and with the way her heart was in her throat, she wasn’t ready yet. She frantically scanned the apartment. Was it too messy? What would Clarissa think? Was it ok? She looked down at her clothes. She hadn’t even changed out of them yet, fuck. Amanda scrambled around the apartment, tucking the messes she left into her closet or under her bed. She hadn’t had guests over in ages, god. Her fridge was empty, her living room was a mess and most importantly, she was as well.

Overall, Amanda was so fucked.

It didn’t matter though, because not long after the phone call, her intercom rang. Clarissa peered into the camera in front of the apartment complex. Amanda’s breath hitched in her throat as she saw her best friend. She had dyed coloured streaks into her long blonde hair She couldn’t really make it out, but it looked like she was wearing fishnets and a tank top. Amanda buzzed her in as she frantically tried to calm herself down. She looked so different, compared to a couple of weeks ago.

It was gorgeous.

Amanda nervously tapped her foot as she waited for Clarissa to make her way up to her apartment. She would be here any minute. Amanda picked at the skin on her nails. God, Clarissa had come over before, but not like this. Not when she was dressed like that. She bit her lip. What did Clarissa want anyway? She sounded alright over the phone, but you’d never know with Clarissa unless she told you straight up. She always tried to keep to herself, pleasing other people, but whenever Amanda looked into her eyes, she could see the fury brewing in her like a storm.

Clarissa wasn’t a calm person inherently. She was the most passionate person Amanda had ever met, but she always played into her perfect girl persona. Perfect grades, cheerleader and a pretty little wife all dressed in white. She was so much more than that though. Amanda had seen what she really was like. She was loud and messy and hurt people and got hurt. Clarissa wasn’t perfect in any sense of the term.

And that made Amanda fall harder

The ring of the doorbell brought her out of her thoughts. It was time.

Amanda’s breath hitched in her throat when she opened the door. Despite the warning through the intercom, Amanda wasn’t prepared for how different Clarissa looked. The highlights in her hair were a crimson red. Amanda was right about the fishnets and tank top: Clarissa had probably thrifted them from some charity shop, but it fit her so well. The low-rise jeans hung loosely around her hips. She could almost make out her-

A blush crept onto her face as her eyes shifted back up to Clarissa, who was looking away. She cleared her throat.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

She opened the door wider, “Well, come on in,” Amanda gestured towards her apartment, “Make yourself at home.”

Clarissa stepped into her apartment. It was like Amanda had forgotten to breathe. She looked fierce, bold, gorgeous. Her heart hammered in her ears as Clarissa slipped off her combat boots. She was breathtaking. She made a beeline towards the couch, her keys jingling as she jogged over. They were attached to a little keychain on her hip. Amanda felt her heart swell as she realised it was the keychain she had gotten her when they were seven. Clarissa swiped the coke off of the coffee table and chugged it. She wiped the corner of her mouth with her hand as she finished and grinned at Amanda. Her smile stretched across her whole face.

Clarissa looked like herself for the first time in a long while.

It did strange things to Amanda’s heart. She tentatively perched on the armrest of the sofa. The two of them sat on it in comfortable silence.

Amanda snorted, “When I said, make yourself at home, I didn’t mean literally.”

Clarissa chuckled as she leaned back onto the sofa. She pouted dramatically, “But you said it.” God, that shade of red made her lips look so kissable. It was driving Amanda crazy. She drove her nails into the sofa. She needed to get a grip, she was supposed to be getting over her.

“So…”

“So.”

“...What did you want to talk about?”

“Ah,” Clarissa ran a hand through her hair, “It’s not easy to, say it.”

“That’s alright, I’m here to listen.”

“I,” Clarissa sighed, “I wanted to apologise.”

“For what?”

“I just,” Clarissa ducked her head into her hands, “I’ve been doing some thinking. Reflecting, you could call it. That’s what my therapist said anyway. And well, I just noticed how you’ve always been there for me and I’ve never thanked you for it.” Clarissa sharply inhaled before she continued, “And that’s so, so mean of me. You’ve been nothing but supportive Amanda. You’ve always been there with me through my highs and lows. You're an angel, and I’ve done nothing to acknowledge it. I’m sorry Amanda."

Clarissa was on the verge of tears now. Amanda wanted to reach over and wipe them away, instead she only softly whispered, “It’s alright, honey. I always knew you appreciated me.”

“Still,” Clarissa’s voice cracked, “I made you feel unappreciated. I was taking you for granted. I know that you always knew I appreciated you, but I could’ve done so much more to show it. You mean so much to me Amanda, and I never want to make you feel that way. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Amanda.” The tears flowed down her face. It made Amanda’s heart tighten in her chest as she looked at her best friend crying. “Do you know what the worst part is?”

“...”

“It’s how stupid I’ve been. I wasn’t just grateful for you—I was in love with you. Fuck, I’m in love with you. I always have been Amanda. Somehow, it’s always been you, and I’ve been such a goddamn idiot. Please, please, I’m sorry Amanda, I really am. For everything, god,” Clarissa was full-on sobbing now. Amanda couldn’t take it anymore. She gently cupped Clarissa’s face, holding her. Her cheeks were soft and tender and the touch was electric. She brushed aside a tear with her thumb. She could tell how erratic Clarissa’s breathing was becoming now. She sounded like a wounded animal as she choked out tears. It tore Amanda’s heart into shreds.

“Clarissa, honey,” Amanda whispered, “Breath for me.”

The two stayed like that for what felt like decades. Amanda felt like she was on fire, as she gently held her face. Clarissa’s breathing quelled as Amanda cupped her cheeks. She leaned into the touch. It made Amanda’s soar. She needed to stay calm. Amanda inhaled deeply and exhaled, gathering her scattered thoughts.

“Clarissa, angel,” Amanda began, “I care about you so much, and I really believe in you. I know you’re going through a lot right now honey, and I can’t imagine being in your shoes. You are such a strong angel, honey. Thank you for sharing your feelings with me—it really means a lot. It must have taken so a lot to do so. But right now? I want you to have the time and space to focus on yourself and work through things without any extra pressure. I won’t respond to you just yet alright? I want to wait for you, let you get back up on your own two feet before we decide to do anything just yet. But no matter what, I’ll be cheering you on alright? I’m still your best friend, even after everything. So, take your time, rebuild your foundations ok?”

Clarissa meekly nodded, “Ok.” She closed her eyes and sighed, “Do you mind waiting for me then?”

Amanda smiled, “I’ll wait for you until the time comes.”

“Ok.”

Clarissa turned her head away from Amanda and muttered under her breath.

“But what if it never does?”

-

“Then I guess I keep waiting.”

Tom bitterly laughed as he drank his pint. AJ shook his head at him and sighed.

“He was supposed to be here an hour ago, come off it,” AJ grumbled, “He shouldn’t keep you waiting this long, even if you do fancy him.”

Tom smiled, “It’s alright, you can go home if you want.”

He snorted and shook his head, “And leave you alone to rot with your thoughts? I don’t think so mate.”

The pub was fairly empty. The TV flicked with some show Tom had seen only play at hospitals and there were only a handful of other patrons. Luke had told him to meet at one of the pubs nearer to Tom’s flat, which meant that it would practically be deserted. A rare sight in London, but with the only interesting thing in the area being a mound, it made somewhat sense. Tom went back to his drink and sighed.

He wanted to throw up. Tom had never been good with confrontation. He’d always been described as overly anxious, and while it came in clutch sometimes, it made him prone to simply running away from his problems. It had gotten better as he had gotten older, but it still made him want to gag when someone asked if they could get a word in with him. He drummed his nails against the counter as he turned back to AJ. He’d been a good sport, waiting with him until Luke came. He hadn’t asked him to, but AJ simply offered when Tom texted him about the situation. His presence did wonders for his anxiety. Tom really appreciated him. He leaned onto AJ’s shoulder and hummed. At least he got to spend time with him, even if Luke never came. AJ patted his head and they sat there in comfortable silence.

If only things with Luke were just as easy.

It had been an awkward couple of weeks, Tom would be the first to admit. Luke avoided him after the longform. He denied it, but anyone with a pair of functioning eyes could see how he brisked whenever Tom tried to approach him, or how Luke swapped places with Sam awkwardly as they clasped hands after a show.

Tom didn’t know how he felt about it.

Was it his fault? Did he cross some line? Their group was all about blurring boundaries, and defying the norms of society, so why was this time any different?

Had Luke finally noticed? Was Luke’s recoil from his touch from disgust? Disgust at the idea of Tom being in love with him? Was this what the talk would be about? Did Luke-

“You’re spiralling again,” AJ clamped a hand over Tom’s head, “Shhh, stop it.” Despite AJ’s harsh words, his tone softened them and comforted him. He leaned into AJ’s touch.

“Lucky guess?” Tom scoffed. He fiddled with his empty glass on the counter.

“Nah,” AJ patted Tom’s head again, “You get a look in your eyes.”

“What look?” Tom bolted up and stared at AJ quizzically. He mustered up his best puppy-dog eyes and pouted at AJ, “This one?”

“Nah,” AJ chuckled, “Looks more like this.” AJ stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes. Tom swatted his shoulder and laughed. God, it was so juvenile, but messing around with AJ always made him feel that way. They giggled like a bunch of teenagers over the stupid faces they pulled. AJ just brought out that in him, of being sixteen with not a care in the world. It was freeing really.

Tom was interrupted from his train of thought by the jingle of the bell attached to the door. He peeked over his shoulder.

It was him.

It wasn’t like Tom didn’t expect to see him. After all, Luke was the one who invited him to talk in the first place, but he couldn’t help it when the hairs on his arm raised. The temperature of the room shifted as they made eye contact. AJ looked down at Tom’s hand and the way it tightened around the empty glass. He looked back up at Tom with knitted eyebrows. He gently reached over and patted his hand.

“I’ll get going now yeah?” AJ smiled gently, “Remember, I’m always one phone call away.”

Tom nodded gingerly. AJ patted his hand one last time before he turned his back to him and walked towards the door.

He watched as AJ greeted Luke with a hug. As he walked out the door, his eyes lingered on AJ’s disappearing figure before the door fully closed. Tom turned to the seat next to him. He swallowed nervously.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Chapter Text

“You alright?”

Amanda snorted, trying to hold back her laughter, but failed miserably. Amanda’s laugh echoed through the entire room. It was loud and boisterous. It was music to Clarissa’s ears. Amanda clenched her stomach and took a couple of breaths before addressing Clarissa.

“Not this again,” Amanda giggled, “You don’t have to ask me every time.”

“I can’t help it,” Clarissa smiled as she took a seat next to her best friend, “I wanna know if you’re ok.”

“I’m doing wonderfully, honey,” Amanda placed a hand on her lap, sending a spark down Clarissa’s spine, “Especially now that you’re here.”

She could feel how hot her cheeks burned. “You wanted to see me?”

Amanda nodded as she took her hand off her lap and ran her hand through her hair. “Yeah, I wanted to talk.” She shifted her body so that she was face to face with Clarissa, “First, I just wanna say how proud of you I am. You’ve put so much effort into working on yourself, and it’s incredible. Growth ain’t easy, so I’m so, so proud of you, Clarissa.” Amanda placed her hand over hers, “I hope you’re as proud of yourself as I am of you.”

Clarissa grinned, “Thank you.” She laced her fingers with Amanda and they held hands for a while, staring at one another. All she could do was stare at Amanda’s lips and how soft they looked. Her heart rattled in her ribcage as they sat there, with their fingers laced. The tension was palpable.

“Do you remember how I said I’d wait for you until the time comes?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I can wait any longer,” Amanda said, squeezing her hand. “Clarissa, I’m in love with you, too. I’ve been in love with you forever. It’s always been you, Clarissa. I’m so grateful you feel the same way.” Amanda tucked a stray strand of hair behind Clarissa’s ear before she whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

All Clarissa could do was nod.

Amanda cupped Clarissa’s cheek as she leaned in. The kiss was soft, delicate and all that Clarissa could ask for. It lit Clarissa on fire, as her stomach exploded with butterflies. Amanda gently squeezed her hand as she pressed her lips against hers. Her hand eclipsed Clarissa’s, and yet her grasp was so gentle. It made Clarissa melt inside. She leaned further towards Amanda, yearning for more contact. Clarissa didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but she didn’t care. It was perfect. It was absolutely perfect.

Amanda leaned back and smiled at Clarissa, soft and dopey. She giggled quietly and ran a hand through her hair. She looked like a goddess. Amanda was beautiful, and Clarissa didn’t know how she didn’t realise it before. She leaned towards her again, grinning as she looked up. This time, Clarissa cupped Amanda’s cheek.

She giggled as she whispered to Amanda, “I love you.”

All Amanda did in response was kiss her.

It was perfect.

“I love you, too.”

And nothing could go wrong after a kiss.

-

“Tom,” Luke grimaced, “I wanted to talk to you to apologise.”

“For what?” Tom cocked his head to the side.

“A, a lot of things, I don’t know where to begin,” Luke propped his hands together.

“It’s alright, take your time.”

Luke whipped his head towards him. Tom looked so worried for him, it was driving him insane. He bit the inside of his cheek and gritted out, “That’s exactly the problem.”

“I still don’t understand Luke-”

“Tom, how do you still have the patience for me? I’ve done nothing but ignore and shun you for the last couple of days, and I’m here snapping at you in a bar. I’m so mean to you, yet you still treat me so nicely. Just how?”

-

Titch yawned as he finished making lunch for himself and Derek. It was still early, in the morning, the sun not having even risen yet. Still, Titch wiped his brow as he stepped back and admired his handiwork. He’d followed the bento box tutorial to a T for Derek’s lunch box, cutting out the bread painstakingly into a little cat shape with a sharp kitchen knife and giving all the little animals faces. It was a little tacky, Titch had to admit, but Derek had mentioned in passing how much he envied the other children who had their parents make them packed lunches growing up. Titch told him that he’d make him a lunch that any kid would be jealous of one day. Derek only laughed and kissed him.

So that was how Titch found himself waking up in the early mornings researching packed lunches. It was a horrendous experience prying himself out of Derek’s very warm and cozy embrace, but it was a necessary evil. He’d spent about a week researching and preparing for the big day, looking up different bento box recipes and buying the necessary ingredients in secret.

Titch turned to his own lunchbox. He’d used the leftovers of Derek’s to make his, chucking in the ugly pieces of lettuce and crusts of leftovers to make something of a salad. It wasn’t pretty, but it would get the job then. He placed the lids on the Tupperware containers. He hummed softly to himself as he hung his apron on its designated hook. The clunky footsteps down the stairs told him all he needed to know. He popped on the kettle as he waited for Derek to join him in the kitchen.

“Hello, love,” Derek sleepily beamed at him as he dragged himself into the kitchen. His hair was sticking in all the cardinal directions and he was still wearing his silken pajamas. He was gorgeous. Derek trudged over and placed a kiss on Titch’s forehead before plopping his head on his shoulder, sighing.

“Morning, Derek,” Titch patted his boyfriend’s head, “Still half asleep?”

Derek let out a little groan, and Titch tutted softly.

“Come on, silly,” Titch grinned, “We’ve got a lot of work to do today.”

“Five more minutes…” Derek whined as he buried himself further into Titch’s shoulder. Titch laughed as he pushed him off. Derek caught himself just as he was about to fall, his eyes going comically wide as he stretched out both arms like a sugar glider. Derek gaped at him before pouting instead.

“You’re so evil”, he moaned, “I was comfortable.”

“At least you’re awake know,” Titch grinned, “The kettle’s ready now, come on now.”

Derek sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “I don’t know how I put up with you.”

“I made you a BLT for lunch.”

“Never mind, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

-

“I’ve taken you for granted, and everything you’ve done for me. You’ve come to all my shows, you’ve supported my every choice, and you’ve always been there for me. How? Just how, Tom? ”

-

Clarissa giggled as she dragged Amanda towards the door of her apartment. Amanda gripped her hand.

“Honey, slow down, I can’t see where I’m going.”

Clarissa smiled as she turned back towards Amanda. The blindfold remained in place as Clarissa had put it on Amanda. She was as blind as a bat with those on, yet she still trusted Clarissa when she asked her to put them on. They held hands throughout the entire journey up the apartment complex, Amanda silently following her. They remained tethered to one another for the entire journey up to her apartment, never letting go. Amanda’s hand was hot like a furnace, and Clarissa’s was ice cold. Still, they made their way up, Clarissa guiding the blindfolded Amanda. She quite literally trusted her blindly, and it made Clarissa’s chest swell at the thought of it, to be trusted so much. She fiddled around trying to find her keys to Amanda’s apartment.

“Hang in tight there, Amanda.” Clarissa unlocked her door. “Mind your step.” She pushed upon the door and finally, finally let go of Amanda’s hand. She missed the warmth already. “You can take your blindfold off now.”

Amanda slowly blinked as she peeled off her blindfold, adjusting to the sudden brightness. She gasped.

“Surprise!” Mr Wilson and Tim let off party poppers as Clarissa’s mom clapped excitedly. Amanda rushed to their sides, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she released them from the bone crushing hug she gave them.

“Dad, Tim, what are you doing out here?”

Tim grinned, “Well, we heard about your promotion and we wanted to celebrate it!”

Mr Wilson chipped in, “Honestly, Amanda, you could have told us yourself, rather than letting your girlfriend do all the work, she drove us all the way here-”

Amanda whipped her head back to Clarissa, who was shyly looking down at her feet.

“Surprise?”

Amanda rushed back to her side and swept her up in a bone-crushing hug. Her embrace enveloped her completely, like being swaddled in a blanket. Clarissa did her best to hug her back. When she finally let go, Amanda held tightly onto her shoulders as she looked down at her. Clarissa’s head swam as Amanda looked at her as if she hung the stars in the sky.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

-
“I’ve shut you out instead of talking to you properly, because I’ve been so in my own head. And fuck it, I might as well tell you why. Because after the longform, I couldn’t stop thinking. I couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to be married to you and what would happen if I actually confessed my feelings to you. It was so beautiful, wasn’t it? But that could never happen, because I’m a self centred ass. Of course, you don't feel the same way.”

“Luke-”

“No, don’t you dare say anything. Because even if you did, I couldn’t allow it. Because how could you even? I’m not even your closest friend, how could I ever be someone special to you? Just how Tom?”

-

“So the stars, huh?”

“Yup, the stars.”

“That’s what you believe in?”

“It’s silly, isn’t it?” Titch turned to face Derek, “Believing in something that ain’t God, but still going to church.”

“Nothing silly in it, love,” Derek softly smiled, “Just different.”

“You know,” Titch sat up, “When I went to Church this weekend, I finally felt it. That divinity that they always preached about in Sunday school.”

“Oh? That’s when we got married.”

Titch nodded, “I saw God in your eyes when I kissed you as your husband. It felt like things were finally right. See, when I look into your eyes, I often see the stars. This time, though? It was more than divine, nothing like the stars. It felt like someone was looking out for me, that I finally got what I supposedly deserved. Yeah, that’s right, I found God in my husband.”

“Oh Titch,” Derek was on the verge of tears now, “That’s, wow.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”
-

“I don’t deserve you even as a friend.” Luke was crying now, “How could I do all this if I love you? I love you so much, but I know you can’t feel the same. I wouldn’t allow it. The universe wouldn’t allow it. It’s not right. Please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Tom. Forgive me for loving you.”

He took Luke’s hand and held it. The two of them sat there for what felt like an eternity. Tom couldn’t find the words to answer him. His throat tightened as he listened to Luke’s heaves as he tried to control his crying. The words slowly made their way to his tongue.
-

“Titch, would you love me in every universe?”

“Hell no!”

-

“Why not love? We found each other in this one, we could do it again.”

“But you see the thing is…”

-

“You only exist in this universe.”

-

“And I couldn’t imagine there being anyone like you. No one who’s as empathetic, sassy-“

-

“-Patient or as kind as you are.”

-

“Not only that, I doubt that I could forgive anyone but you.”

-
“You’ve made so much progress, it’s incredible.”

-

“I’m so proud of you, how far you’ve come and how far you’ll go.”
-

“No one else could do that.”
-

“Not even you in another universe.”

-

“You’re the only one for me, love.”

-

“No matter if our souls find each other, I’ll only ever love you.”

-

“So fuck the universe, because it knows nothing. This time, I’m choosing you.”

Tom kissed Luke with all the passion he could muster. It felt like he was set ablaze as he kissed him. The kiss was awkward and messy. Tom didn’t know where to put his hands, and Luke nearly toppled over, but it came from the heart, and that was all that mattered to him. Teeth clacked together, and they nearly crashed into the wall. Luke laughed into the kiss.

It was perfect.

Tom couldn’t bear to open his eyes when they parted. He replayed the kiss in his head, wanting to relive it over and over again. When he finally peeled his eyelids back, he was met with Luke’s grinning face, still marked with tears. He grinned wider.

“So fuck the universe huh?”

"I love you." 

"I love you, too, Tom."