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y/n had a tendency to get crushes on random strangers she saw when she was out and about. the most recent (that wasn't shalnark) was an attractive man with blond hair she'd seen at the mall last month when she was out shopping for clothes. he was standing in front of hot topic in all his glory while chatting with another man. her first impression of them was that they were too old to be buying stuff there, given that they were both somewhere in their early or mid 20s. y/n was proven wrong about them doing the shopping when two teenagers, both around sixteen, stepped out with bags and walked away with the men, all of them laughing at something she couldn't hear. they were an interesting quartet and y/n found herself thinking of the blond stranger during the rest of her spree, longing to know what his voice sounded like.
the reason he stuck out more than any of the other pretty people she saw that day was because they'd made super sexy eye contact that y/n was sure served no purpose other than for him to assert his dominance. she'd looked away, partially in shame of being caught staring and the rest being that she was unable to meet anyone's eyes for more than five seconds. the brief interaction was enough to spur her imagination into creating a multitude of fake scenarios in the days that followed. the first scenario was a world where y/n was brave enough to go up and ask him if 1) he was single, and 2) if she could have his number. things would go beautifully from then on out and in the days that ensued, y/n and this stranger (who probably didn't remember she existed) were happily married and living in a nice house with a trampoline in their backyard—all in her mind, of course.
her crushes formed on acquaintances, too. feitan and the boy who bagged her groceries every week were also victims of her overactive imagination. it didn't strike y/n as unhealthy until she realized that it warped her real-world view of people.
that's what led her to where she was now—staring at feitan from across the ballroom in chrollo's mansion while recounting all the times they went on cute little fictional dates. y/n was lucky he wasn't a conversationalist because she wasn't sure she'd be able to talk to him normally after having already planned their make-believe wedding and had at least one of his make-believe kids.
phinks sat next to her, smacking his lips for the hell of it. the sound drew her out of her daydreams and it was pissing her off to no end. y/n wanted nothing more than to smack him upside the head.
"can you stop that?" y/n was surprised her words weren't slurred. she lost count of how much wine she was consuming after the eighth cup. chrollo had a knack for choosing alcohol that was much too alcoholic to taste any good, but everyone still drank it.
"can you stop being a creep and staring at feitan like you're going to kill him and hide the body later? it's getting weird," he snapped back. "not that you'd be able to land a hit on him, anyway. he might be three feet tall but he'd fucking obliterate you."
"i—" whatever retort she had died (just like her dignity) on the tip of her tongue as her vision clouded over. y/n closed her eyes and sighed. "i wasn't staring that hard. i was just reimagining our life together that i've carefully crafted over the course of the last two years. you get it, right?"
