" 𝐖𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬. "
Y/N is the girl that everyone wants to be and or want to be with. Having the w...
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"Y/N, CAN I TALK TO YOU?"
Her fingers pinched gently on her foundation cushion as she gingerly painted her face. Golden strands peeked their tips into the star's room through the reflection in the Hollywood vanity mirror. Her rosy, velvet task chair squeaked along with the bubbly beats dancing from her heart and out her chest. Y/N knew exactly who it is by their jejune voice and the corners of her mouth immediately turned upwards as she spun on her toes.
"Free!" Y/N grinned. The face cushion was plopped back into their case with little care as they leaped up from their spot.
The rest of the golden one entered—gray wool jumper and all—a tad loose in his stature. Giorgio Armani brand, a jacquard mohair wool blend v-neck jumper to be precise. In any case, winter was coming and the last thing that she wants for her boyfriend is to freeze before she turns 18 in January.
Sandy forelocks cascaded down his face when he tilted his head down. Free then raised his head up, eyelids low with his pupils meeting her's.
Beautiful, just absolutely wholly wonderful is how always he will be in her eyes. The way the sun casts their beaming rays onto his sun-kissed skin; the shadows from the arrival of the moon sculpts every angle of the golden one, making him even more brilliant in the night's lights. Of course, everyone can see the exterior of a being; the interior is a complete labyrinth in which you have to meander through for years at a time to understand their true selves.
And boy was it something to unravel.
It's been quite a minute since Free visited her—Y/N has made it clear in her heart to treasure this dear moment.
Ah, already four years has passed since they first got together—goodness, almost five! Anyhow, five is a multiple of five, which is all good numbers according to Y/N herself—affirmed on Brianna's nightly show.
"Y/N," Free said the name so softly—Y/N felt like she was going to melt.
Free turned for a minute to click close the door behind him, then met her eyes again with the same indifferent expression.
Y/N faintly narrowed her eyebrows. Typically, he wasn't so silent. Is today one of those quiet days? Like yesterday, the day before, this week, last week, and...all of last month.
Oh. Has it been that long already?
Lately, Free has been withdrawn from the club. Previously, he liked to be alone for at least an hour a day—that wasn't what she is concerned about. Now, withdrawn has been cutting down socialization down to 98% and intentionally avoiding everyone—even going as far as to skip the meals that he loves. The times that Y/N even gets to receive a gander at him is when he goes back into his room at night, now recently not as often either.
That is what concerned her.
The exuberant energy bumping earlier had now completely vanished as suddenly as it came. Y/N now had an uneasiness trickling down into her stomach. Free is eerily quiet. His brown eyes stared within, the glimpses of gold beneath consuming her focus entirely. Y/N gave her jitters some time to settle, then popped the question. "What did you want to talk about?"
The first knuckle of his index finger brushed her cheek.
It startled her to say the least.
"Y/N," his voice is slightly above a whisper, scratchy too. Y/N glanced at the rest of him. "Maybe...I think I caught something."
Blue veins could be seen from underneath his skin along the sides of his neck. It wasn't pulsing out though, like how he sometimes does in battles. His cream, cotton twill trousers were wrinkled—very, terribly wrinkled and in desperate need of ironing. Y/N pressed a palm against his forehead, then her other on her own.
The temperatures were unchanged.
"Free, do you need to lay down?" Y/N inquired, drawing back her hands. He stood unmoved, but also drew his finger back. "I won't mind if you lay here. Are you tired? You seem overworked—are you pushing it again?"
"Y/N," he repeated stoically.
"Hm?"
"I like it when you smile," Free caressed the side of her face—gentler than when a butterfly plants their feet on the surface of a suitable plant. "it's cute."
Y/N 's smile returned briefly.
While she appreciated his words of affirmation, the little beads of sweat now brimming from his forehead—sticking the wispy hairs of his onto his skin—showed that something is wrong about him. It's sudden how quick he shoots from one topic to the next. Y/N enclosed his hand with her own, granting it a benignant squeeze.
"I should tell that to you more." the golden one whispered airily.
He elapsed back into his silence.
"What did you want to talk about earlier?" Y/N asked. Free paused for a moment. His hand slumped back to his side. His topaz eyes drifted to the far right, promptly evading the question he asked first.
Free abruptly locked contact with Y/N.
"Never mind," he replies. The corners of his mouth turned upwards. Free slightly tilted his head to the side, now practically patented as his signature. He patted her shoulder two times before turning to the exit. "It's nothing, mi cariño. Carry on with your things. Your new foundation looks smooth on your skin, by the way. It's lovely."
I am so glad that someone noticed that! Goodness—rarely does anyone know how much time and effort I spend on my splendorous face.
"Thank you, dārin—but you should really go lay down." Y/N sat a hand on her hip as Free grabbed ahold of the doorknob. "My fitness coach always says that 'Rest time is not waste time.', and 'Sometimes making progress means taking rest days.'. Your body repairs itself during sleep."
"Sure, Y/N," Free nudges the door open with his two fingers. "I oughta take more naps like I used to. Good luck with your recording this afternoon."
"Yep yep yep!" She jumped backwards into her spiny pink chair and spun twice around. "Hope to see you after?"
"Okay."
Y/N had turned her body back to facing the Hollywood mirror. Concealer was next, and she was going to try out the brand that Zac had sent over—an extra from one of his sponsors. Her fingers twisted the bottle's wand from its container and lifted it. Y/N moved the brush towards her face—
"I'm selfish, aren't I?"
Y/N's eyes widened and she pulled her arm back. Her body whipped back around to catch the rest of Free's whispered words.
Selfish?
Only when she turned, he had already left.
From there on, Y/N's world began crumbling down around her.
