Maryanland, September 17, 2040, 6:20 AM
To say that my heart will beat itself out of my ribcage might sound like a hyperbole to anyone who's not in my current situation.
Mondays were never an issue for me. Days and nights are common because a planet performs its daily rotating mechanism. This provides us with the different days we've assigned names to. Not to forget that I enjoy looking at the moon and the sun when I feel like risking my retinas. Our star is one of a kind, and it will be of a more extraordinary kind when it turns into a red gi-
Shut the hell up. What did we say about no astronomy that didn't register?
Back to the point that I was trying to get at before my rude interruption, it's Monday, and I'm about to pass out. Not because it's Monday, but because it's Monday. The day which grants me the potential of getting arrested for breaking and entering. I've been innocent with a clean criminal record up to this point. Flynn has a terrible influence on me. Yeah, blame it on him like you weren't the one who suggested this. I got myself out of a situation last time, all to put myself in another one. I'm never going to catch a damn break.
After the suggestion of my ingenious idea, the universe did the thing that made me hate the concept of time. One day, I'm going to exchange positions and become the menace that makes an event the universe dreads happen much quicker than it hoped it would. Hours are a lot closer to each other when you don't want them to be.
Whoever thought I'm part of a sick and twisted joke now has me standing in front of the home I know the importance of from Flynn. I cannot bring myself to look at him, the last time I did, his beaming smile acted as my version of the sun, and I don't want my nerves to dim it away with my hesitance. But I will have to bite the bullet at some point.
"Do you know how we can get in?" Flynn asks, moving his captivated gaze away from the home and onto me.
Furrowing my eyebrows, I look deep into his eyes to show him my befuddlement. "Do I look like a detective to you?" His usual chivalrous gaze that is always focused on my eyes takes two seconds to give me a once over before he muses his next words. "From the mysterious look of your all-black clothes, I'd say yeah." Glaring at him while trying to come up with a solution. "Weren't you the criminal that broke into the castle to steal the crown? You come up with ideas!" The real Flynn Rider would never do this to me. Rapunzel hadn't seen a wink of stress ever since she married him.
Shock takes over me when he leans forward, the smirk that shows whenever he teases me growing the closer he gets to my face. Before his amused self could get any closer, I turned my body to face the house.
Phew. I don't know what I saved myself from, but I saved myself. "And aren't you supposed to be my partner in crime, or whatever they say?" Forget saving myself, let me shed some light on things in his head. Returning to my previous position, facing his beautiful self, my widening eyes cannot hide their confusion.
"Partners in crime? Dude, I'm an intern psychologist, NOT a criminal. But if you want to be one, all power to you. Just warn me when you'll do that, so I get rid of all my associations with you." I burst out, dead serious. Doubts about the integrity of my words wonder if my verbal outburst happened because of the sudden shyness from his earlier action.
Lyaly's idea about a potential romantic relationship between him and I haven't left my mind since she said them. As a result, I now want to tell her that there are sharks in the lake we always go to, so she also has something she won't stop thinking about. Another result of her words was avoiding extensive eye contact or verbal exchange between me and the hunk in front of me. I'll get over this when this situation is over, but shit, I hate my lack of dating history. The poor guy makes a few teasing advances, and my brain assumes he's in love with me.
"Mmm, bummer," he joked. That's the cue I needed to tell me he didn't believe my words. Well, shit.
Scavenging my brain to see if I have any ideas to help us get into this house or myself in jail takes a while. Boy, did the excitement course through me when my brain delivered the package right before my eyes.
My eyes widen before I shout, "I got it! I got it! I got it!" A smile that my face hasn't displayed in so long appeared. I can't recognize myself, but something about being useful to someone caused a burst of happiness. While celebrating my unspoken idea, my excited arms didn't notice their surroundings as they swung everywhere. By surroundings, I mean Flynn. When I come back to my senses, I notice him rubbing his left arm. My eyes now widen for a different reason. Before I could speak words of apology, he beat me to it. "My arm hurts, no denying that. But you're cute as fuck when you're all excited." Oh no, wipe that smile off of your face before I swing at you again.
Looking for a way to respond to his words resulted in me blinking in confusion.
Cute? Okay?
I don't think he'd consider me cute any longer after he finds out how fucked up my mind is, but I'll take the compliment.
"Um, thanks. Anyway, back to the job at hand. This might sound like a dumb question, but do you still have the keys to this house?"
His eyes sparkle in what I assume to be awe. From the way he won't shift his gaze anywhere apart from my eyes, I'll declare I'm its receiver. Thank you, I am great.
"I'm jealous of whoever gets to marry you," his voice adopts a harsh tone as he grunts out his words. Pft.
Oh, he's new here. We're not close enough for me to tell him my plans to live with the many animals that I adopt or rescue alone in my future home. I can't squeeze a spouse in the middle of that. Once again, I prefer animals over humans.
"Worry not. You don't have anyone to be jealous of. But I'll take all the awe directed towards me, thank you."
Flynn chuckles before he reaches into his back pocket to search for the supposed keys. Men's pockets are large enough to fit everyone's hopes and dreams in them, so I don't, for a second, question why he pulls his entire life's memories out of his pocket. He pulls out his phone, his wallet, and heck, a damn notepad before I see a pair of rusting keys rattle in front of me.
"Looking for these?"
"Yes sir, but you're the one getting caught first. Open the door, big boy," I clap, ushering him forward. I didn't register my actions before I did them. My hands had all the liberty of placing themselves on his back to push him forward. Not even asking for permission like a dumbass.
We wouldn't do this if we weren't sure the house had anyone in it. Judging by the look of this part of town, rich ass people who leave the house at ridiculous hours in the morning must live here.
I made us come here at a ridiculous hour so I could prove my point.
And boy, is 4 AM a ridiculous hour. I'm running on zero sleep because I was too nervous to relax.
As if I spoke it into existence, we watched the cars we saw parked earlier getting ready to leave two hours after our arrival. A middle-aged man wearing a fancy suit helped two young children settle in the back seat before he drove off to wherever his day wanted him to be. Behind him, a woman not too far from his age locked the front door before getting into her car and doing the same.
Our disguises making us look like an innocent pair on a walk worked in ways nothing short of marvelous. Flynn's ideas of disguises are wearing dark clothes that blend in with our surroundings, gloves, and hats that cover our faces from cameras placed above our heads. I cannot count how many times he shoved my hands away from my head when I tried to take my hat off. Anything worn on my head irritates me a substantial amount.
Standing behind him as a guard, I hear Flynn unlocking the door. We may not be professional criminals, but we at least know to enter through the back door. The cameras got taken care of, but we cannot mess with the vision of a neighboring resident's eyes.
My heart damn near drops to my feet when I see the hourly patrol car drive by on the opposite end of the lake, but before it can drive past us, Flynn pushes both of us inside. Phew.
"Lock the door," I remind Flynn, and he does what I said. Fuck my mind, books ruined that sentence for me.
I don't want to sound mean, but this foyer looks worlds away better than the one they have in the Image World. If the back door has this extravagance for a foyer, I cannot imagine how the front foyer compares. A brown rectangular rug lays under our feet, above marble floors. Sage green walls surrounded us. Picture frames, a mirror, a cabinet, plant pots, and a couch ranging in different shades of brown decorate the space. I look above to see intricate designs on a golden chandelier. The beauty of the place captivates my attention for a moment before I recognize the lack of the giant man's presence.
Even though we're here alone, panic washes through me. How dare he leave me here all alone when I don't know what is where in this house?
Taking a few hesitant steps forward, my eyes settle on the next portion of the house before my eyes, but I ignore the vintage beauty of the house and look for Rider. From the corner of my eye, I see him walking around the first floor.
I'd hate to be a party pooper, but we have to search for something that can give us some clues about where his Maryanland self could be.
"Flynn, I hate to be that person, but we have a mission to focus on right now."
If he hadn't nodded his head in understanding, I would've assumed he didn't hear me. Turning around, he says his next words in a confident tone. "Upstairs, there's a library we can look through important papers about past residents of this house. We might find something there." Sounds good to me. I've decided to always follow his ideas. That way, if they go south, at least I wouldn't be receiving the blaming end. "Whatever you say, we do, sir," I affirmed, shrugging my shoulders. But I'm still nervous as fuck.
Lo-and-behold, we went up a set of stairs unfamiliar to me for the second time this month. They say the third time's the charm, let's see what the charm will be. Another thing that happened for the second time this day was getting myself distracted by the view outside the stair windows.
I didn't bother looking around much after that, choosing that staring at Flynn's back will be of much higher benefit for my eyes. He holds the door open, asking me to enter first. And holy shit, I'm jealous of the people living in this house. If I had an at-home library as scrumptious as this, I would never leave the house. Wooden shelves filled to the brim with books covered every wall. A leather chair sits near the circular window, letting in yellow sunshine. Oh my god, I get Flynn's obsession with this place now.
But wait, "what are we going to find at a home library?"
That's when he pulls out another key from his pocket, "watch and see."
I see him walk towards one of the higher shelves in a corner that doesn't look to be anyone's center of attention. Choosing to stand next to him to see what will come out of his idea resulted in me turning into a human shelf. His incredible height helps him reach a shelf placed a good 3 feet above my head with ease. Without looking back, he grabs every book blocking his way and holds it behind his head for me to carry. I look down to see my arms fighting for their dear life as they try to keep all the ten books in them steady.
"Behind this shelf, there's a hidden safe that my grandfather had built in to hold important papers. I doubt the current homeowners discovered the safe, and I also doubt that the papers my family kept hidden inside won't still be in here."
He explains, eyes concentrated on moving the task in front of him. From my rather low view, I can see that he's feeling around to find the lock of the safe. When a small smile raises the corner of his mouth, I prove my suspicions correct.
"We're in," I don't know if it's the last remnants of his morning voice or if the content makes his voice sound husky, but I love it. Note to self: make Flynn content often, and you'll get a hot husky voice in return. Talk about operant conditioning.
Words don't dare leave my mouth as I stand there and watch Flynn search through the now open safe, grabbing everything inside and placing it in the backpack that made me wonder about its purpose. Relief bubbled inside me when he listened to the words I'd been repeating in his ears every time we'd seen each other before today.
"Please, Flynn, when we're there, grab all the things you find necessary and leave. I don't want us to overstay our welcome there."
My vitals will not be within a healthy range for as long as we stay here. Anytime I had to warn him about not staying for too long, I used it as a golden moment.
"Okay, I've got pretty much everything out. We can leave once we return the books in place. But," his eyes widen before he exchanges nervous looks from the books in my arms to the empty shelf.
Oh, allow me.
"I know the order of the books, I'll give you each one, and you put them back."
In the five minutes that it took him to do an FBI-level clearance of the shelf, I took multiple glances at a familiar book series. I haven't had the time to read since my internship started, but years ago, I wouldn't walk around without a book in my hands.
During that glorious time, I read a brilliant three-book series, the same one in my arms. Funny story, but I began reading from the third book without knowing. For someone who flips the book to stare at the cover a million times while reading, I wonder how I didn't notice the giant text saying 'third book of a trilogy.'
At least I was smart enough to question why the story looked well introduced already in such a short amount of pages.
Whoever owns this library must have the same technique as me when organizing books. My approach to book organization comes simple, tallest and thickest, to shortest and smallest move from left to right. Pretty sure other book collectors would cry and throw up hearing this. But this satisfies one of the obsessive-compulsive disorder behaviors within me, and I will not defy it. If it has kept my mind at a comfortable bay for years, who am I to stop doing what makes my mind feel at ease?
On another note, lucky bastard, I'm jealous of their library.
Giving him each book in the design I remember, the shelf returns to its past state.
The second he pushed the last book in, I look around to see if we moved anything out of place. Half a portion of ease feeds itself to me before I grab Flynn's arm and make our way out of there. Inshallah, we never come back here again, at least in these circumstances.
The gorgeous foyer comes into view for the second time as we descend the stairs. Okay, even if we don't get any closer to our eventual goal after doing this, I'll forgive it because at least a gorgeous view blessed my eyes. And no, I do not mean Flynn. Speaking of Flynn, he must feel bravery swimming in his veins right now because when I look down to see why a sudden warmth encompassed my freezing hands, I see his larger hand holding mine. I'll get back to him on that. Let's leave this place first.
As if we own the place, he stands in front of me to open the door for us. While still having a firm hold of my hand, he locks the back door with ease. After making sure everything looks like it did before we got here, we take fast steps to put a distance between us and the house. Adrenaline made me take Flynn-sized steps in one swing of a leg. Noticeable relief eases our shoulders as we enter the clear zone and make our way toward the train station to go home. The hectic events from before allow us to walk in silence, alone with our thoughts.
I don't know when my bravery came in because I felt my hand hold his tighter more times than I'm comfortable admitting to help me ease my nerves. It worked wonders, but I'm having a man vs. mind war with my brain, telling it to stop yelling about why I might for doing this in bold letters.
Stop, it's not anything like that. I've known this guy for a few weeks. I doubt that an ounce of a crush grew for him. Nothing wrong with liking someone not long after meeting them, but I'm not like that. I need at least a few months under my wing or in extreme times, years.
So are you saying that you will like him at some point?
Shut up, stop twisting my words, and no.
You see many cute guys your age, yet you never, for a moment, think about them the way you do about Flynn.
Because I don't interact with them as often as I do with Flynn.
Oh, so a little more time with Flynn, and he'll be all you can think about?
Stop twisting my words.
What do you feel about him right now?
He's funny, pretty, smart, kind-
Not my question, Azail.
Fine, I consider him a dear friend. And no, I won't change that status. His kind actions towards me come from his appreciation for what I'm doing. I will not think that he's growing feelings for me when he does something out of what's within range of a friend zone. And you will never see me think of him as anything more than a friend. I don't see myself being with him.
But before I could hold my next thought, it flashed before my eyes.
You do.