(updated version)
♫ ❝And why can't i make you mine? You used to be texting me, checking me. calling me your slime.❞♫
YOUR POV.
——
From within the cocoon of my room, I emerged, a smile gracing my lips as the sweet release of a Saturday engulfed me. The absence of school provided a respite, a luxury for self-reflection.
Languidly, I located my phone, its electronic lullabies a mere accompaniment to my musings. As I scrolled through the digital playground of social media, each notification a trifle compared to the one I craved. Cole's name lingered on the tip of my tongue, his absence, an ache in my chest.
Rising from the bed, I ambled to the bathroom, my grooming rituals a symphony of preparation for a day of leisure. Back in my sanctuary, my eyes fluttered shut, surrendering to the allure of Cole Brookstone. My heart, once a captive to middle-school fantasies, now found itself in the throes of a familiar infatuation.
Cole's hair, a crowning glory that defied gravity, his height, a tantalizing proximity to mine, his build, a perfect amalgamation of lankiness and muscle, were etched in my mind. The vivid recollection of his countenance during our revelatory conversation, a tapestry of sadness, gratefulness, and attentive affection, stirred the embers of my desire.
The adolescent within, stoked by Cole's confession, reemerged, dancing in my chest. My thoughts, a phantasmagorical procession, pondered the enigma of his orientation, or worse, his aversion.
COLES POV.
I sat on the edge of my bed, my gaze locked on a black umbrella that still held a hint of dampness from the rainstorm it had protected me from earlier. The memories of the day reeled back, a vivid montage that wouldn't let go.
He, Y/n, gave me this umbrella and placed roses at my mother's grave. He walked with me through classes, getting to know me. He sat with me at lunch, ensuring his friends stopped teasing Lloyd when I asked. After lunch, he waited for me, without judgment regarding the amount of food I'd eaten.
He took me to a park and opened up to me, and I, in turn, opened up to him. He asked for my number and offered to drive me home. For years, I was resentful of him, hating him for his fame, wealth, and the praise he received from everyone. I never fathomed the depths of his pain—losing his father in a car accident on the very day he was born. Yet, even with that burden, he smiled at everyone and did his best to comfort me, despite losing his parent in a far more traumatic manner.
I felt terrible for judging him. It wasn't fair, for Y/n is a kind, beautiful soul. I sighed, dropping my eyes from the umbrella to my phone, scrolling through messages, hoping to see a message from him. I needed to shake off this infatuation; it was too early. I had only just met him.
'mouth of lightning.'
————
'mouth of lightning'
COLE! there hasn't been an garmadon attack in three days.. if this keeps up he either quit or he's planning something insane!
| i sigh, at jays message. |
yeah. hopefully he quit.
'mouth of lightning'
i'll miss jikan though :(
| Jikan, a moniker befitting of a master manipulator of the temporal fabric, operated in shadows. His garb, a shroud of gray, blended with the ebb and flow of time itself. A figure of such incalculable worth, his anonymity was sacrosanct. With the power to control time, he wielded an influence that permeated every facet of existence.
In the heat of battle, amidst the clash of steel and the shattering of bones, Jikan's gaze never wavered from his comrades. With a tenderness that belied his formidable abilities, he surveyed the battlefield, ensuring each warrior stood triumphant or, at the very least, unbowed before the scythe of death.
For me, however, Jikan's solicitude blossomed into something akin to guardianship. When desolation's lonely arms tightened around my chest, I found solace in the folds of his cloak. With unwavering patience, he listened to my feelings of isolation, a beacon of comfort in the void of the universe.
Each time I confided in him, I felt the weight of my loneliness lessen, my spirit buoyed by the steadfast presence of the Gray Ninja. Jikan. |
me too.
'mouth of lightning'
why do you type like this?🤡🤡 you're so dry you text like someone's dad!
| is that such a bad thing? it's just texts. |
damn
'mouth of lightning'
please atleast add an emoji.
damn🪨
'mouth of lightning'
okay no, i need to teach you how to text 😭🤚
it's not that important, it's just texts.
'mouth of lightning'
oh please. if you ever have a crush on someone and you want them to like you back you'll definitely need to change those texts☠️☠️☠️
i doubt anyone's of my interest.
| that's a lie, there might be someone i'm interested in. but it's too early to tell. |
'mouth of lightning'
trust me. you're gonna find someone, like how i found nya!😛😛😛
nya likes y/n...
'mouth of lightning'
i know. but technically she likes me too because i talked to y/n so basically i'm y/n😡😡🤚
that's not how it works.
have you been drinking?
are you high?
you know i don't like when people do that,
'mouth of lightning'
oh. my gosh cole you're impossible to have a conversation with. you can't even put an emoji properly and you're so dry.
i'd rather die than use an emoji "properly" or try to make non.. dry.. text.
'mouth of lightning'
goodbye😭
bye.
'mouth of lightning'
not actually
yk what
nvm.
k.
————-
Cradled in the bosom of my bed, I flipped onto my side, my gaze transfixed on the clock that read 2 PM. A yawn escaped my lips as I contemplated the barren landscape of my schedule. Friends, they gathered in clusters, drawn to the magnetic fields of Jay's humor or Kai's unyielding confidence. I, however, remained a solitary speck in the constellation of social interaction.
The darkness that enveloped my room mirrored the emptiness that lurked within my chest. With the lights extinguished and curtains drawn, my heart should have ached with the familiar sensation of loneliness. Yet, I found myself lost in the labyrinth of thoughts centered on Y/n.
Why did my mind gravitate towards him? We had forged our alliance only a day ago, not even 24 hours had passed since our friendship bloomed. The gnawing realization that I possessed his number flickered across my consciousness, igniting a spark of guilt.
Had I left Y/n to believe I no longer desired his company? A quick scan of my contacts revealed his entry, bereft of a profile picture, but adorned with his own name. The knowledge that I could reach out to him, alleviate any potential misunderstanding, weighed heavily on my conscience.
A flicker of anxiety danced in my chest as I pondered the consequences of my inaction. Texting him now, in this liminal space between day and night, seemed like an act of defiance against societal norms. Yet, the desire to reassure Y/n of my intentions, to bridge the gap between us, overrode such considerations.
As my fingers hovered over the keyboard, the prospect of opening a new chapter in our fledgling friendship beckoned. A simple message, a digital breadcrumb, was all it would take to dispel the uncertainty that loomed between us. My thumb poised, ready to write a testament to the promise of friendship.
"y/n <3"
When I uncovered the tender detail Y/n had imbued within his self-designated contact, my heart skipped a beat. A simple, yet powerful, symbol of affection had been bestowed upon his name. The question lingered, however: Should I alter this symbol, this heart, that now resided cozily beside his name?
The prospect of removing the heart loomed with trepidation. Y/n might perceive the action as an affront to his kindness or, worse, our nascent friendship. The idea of shifting it, of trying to appease both my conscience and the potential indignation of my newfound friend, was equally daunting. It adorned his name with a charm that, in its simplicity, evoked a depth of emotion.
A shadow of fear crept across my mind as I contemplated the possibility of an invasion of privacy. What if someone rummaged through my phone, discovering the heart and the association it held with Y/n? My heart sank at the thought of his fervent fan base, their envy and aggression spiraling towards me.
Ultimately, reason won, and I decided to let the heart remain. The risk of offense seemed greater than the hypothetical ramifications of arousing the ire of Y/n's fans. My decision was sealed by the heart's alluring aesthetic, an innocuous emblem that beckoned with its promise of warmth and camaraderie.
y/n <3
——————-
hello.
| i placed my phone down on the table to wait for his response but my phone immediately dinged. i know it's from him because no one really texts me. i've never seen someone as famous as him answer to someone like me so quickly before. |
'y/n <3'
HI! this is cole right?? 🙏🏼🙏🏼
| he's texts like jay. maybe jay was right, how i text does matter. |
yes.
| was that too dry? do i ask jay for help? wait- why am i worrying about how i text him? he's hardly my friend, i've just met him. |
'y/n<3'
are you free today? tomorrow? after school on monday or any of those days?
or just in general like
when are you free?
you don't have to respond
sorry for the spam 😭
| someone's desperate to hang out with me? ME? is this some kind of sick joke? |
why.
'y/n<3'
we can hang out
go to the movies
or just talk
wherever u wanna go
i'll go pay
| is he being serious? why me? nya would kill to be in my shoes right now. |
i should be free tomorrow.
| i'm always free. i just don't think i look my best today. |
'y/n<3'
okay!
where do you wanna meet?
what time?
| i don't know? why is he in such a rush? |
uhm
i like baking, can we do something that involves it?
'y/n<3'
OKAY WERE GETTING SOMEWHERE
yes absolutely, we can go to a make your own cake bakery.
i'll pay don't even bring your wallet.
is four pm good for you.. mr brookstone?
| oh. this is.. making me feel some kind of way. it's a good feeling. |
yes,
| add an emoji, he's being nice, try what jay said. |
🧌
🪨
🥚
'y/n<3'
LMFAOOAAO HELPPP WTF
how can i help you? what did i do?
nothing nothing, tell me more about your love for baking, i remember you told me you like cake too right?
yes! i love cake, especially chocolate cake, i love baking even though im not the best, i normally bake with zane because he's an amazing cook, you don't know zane well but he was at the table the one time you visited, us at lunch. sometimes my friends get mad at me when i fight like a child for the last piece of cake at a party but i don't care!🪨🍰
| did i rant? i tried not to be dry this time, i even added emojis. |
'y/n<3'
oh brookstone, ill buy you any amount of cake that you want, ill buy you every chocolate cake in the world.
i'll try to get to know zane better since you like
him so much.
i'll fight that child for you as well, you deserve that last piece more than any child.
| he's.. interested. does he mean any of what he's saying?
why is my heart thumping out of chest over a few text's? |
'y/n<3'
oh also, cole, please. please rant more like this, please.
| he likes my ranting.. |
what else would i rant about..?
'y/n<3'
you ever had a pet?
oh! oh my gosh, one time when i was eight, i had a pet rock named rocky, my parents didn't know about my pet rock for sooo long, i drew a face on him to make him a mini me, he was so cute, i loved him so much! but one day he disappeared,i asked my mom and dad what happened to my rock and they said it ran away to deal with some business. i believed them just to find out from my father recently that they threw him away on accident thinking he was a random rock! what a crock! 🪨🤍
—————
Our digital banter flowed like the river of life, unimpeded by the boundaries of time. Night encroached, its velvet cloak enveloping the world, yet our words continued to dance and intertwine, a dance of friendship that transcended the barriers of sleep.
We halted our vigil only for the most necessary of human rituals, showering, and replenishing our bodies with sustenance. Even these moments of respite were punctuated by the gentle pitter-patter of our thumbs, a tacit acknowledgment of our connection.
In the crescendo of our chatter, I uncovered the tapestry of Y/n's past. A cherished feline companion, a muse of love and devotion, once graced his presence. Y/n regaled tales of collecting flowers for his furry friend, the warmth of companionship extending into the wee hours as they basked in the glow of 'Ninjago'.
His aspirations, a beacon of hope and justice, lay in the pursuit of advocacy for the disabled. An attorney's robe, a mantle of righteousness, awaited him in the future. In the afterglow of our revelations, I realized the depth of my misjudgment. Y/n was an intricate tapestry, rich in character and generosity.
The dizzying transformation he wrought upon my perception of him, a feat accomplished in the span of mere days, humbled me. The dawning realization that this man, once an enigma shrouded in jealousy and resentment, was a heart of gold, a beacon of sincerity, left me breathless.
A palpable eagerness seized my spirit, aching to unravel the mysteries that lay in wait tomorrow. The promise of Y/n's presence, a beacon of warmth amidst the tempest of emotions, fueled my anticipation, a fire that crackled and bloomed in the chambers of my heart.
Original chapters word count: 1853
Updated chapters word count: 2398