pixiefelixie

[pixiefelixie]

Kim Seungmin for W Korea

I am NOT okay. I can NOT breathe. Check on your fucking Seungmin stans today cause we need emergency attention. What the fuck.

[pixiefelixie]

a series of phone calls with increasing time zones, proving that not even distance can break true love

idol!seungmin x reader, 5k words, fluff, long-distance au (seungmin on tour), angst, one argument, suggestive themes but not graphic!! (implied masturbation, sexual intercourse)

you both knew tour was going to be a challenge. the time zones, the silence between texts, being apart for too long. the kind of distance that makes you wonder if it’s still as warm on the other side.

but real love sticks. real love dials in the middle of the night with a sleepy voice and a hotel duvet pulled up to his chin. seungmin is in australia. one hour ahead of you.

“hey, baby” seungmin whispers, the sound barely above the static. “you still awake?”

you roll onto your back, staring at your ceiling like it might answer for you. “yeah.”

“did you cry?” he asks gently. not mocking. just—curious, like he’s asking about the weather.

“a little,” you admit, voice barely holding. “why are you so hard to sleep without?”

he exhales, soft and slow. “i don’t know,” he says, “maybe i cursed you.”

“maybe,” you whisper back.

there’s silence for a while. not awkward. just full.

then, “han jisung is asleep like two feet away, and if he hears me say sappy shit he’s gonna roast me into another dimension.”

you smile a little.

“but,” seungmin adds, quieter now, “i miss you too. like. a lot.”

you close your eyes. “don’t whisper like that. it makes it worse.”

“oh? does it?” his voice dips lower, playful. “what, like this?”

“seungmin.”

“i can picture your face right now” he says with a light chuckle.

you groan into your pillow. “i hate you.”

“no you don’t.”

“no,” you sigh. “i don’t.”

“i’ll call you again tomorrow night,” he murmurs, yawn crawling into his voice. “maybe i’ll read you the hotel shampoo ingredients like poetry.”

“that’s so romantic.”

"i know. i’m basically shakespeare,” he whispers, smug and sleepy.

you let out a soft laugh. “then what’s your sonnet about tonight, romeo?”

“hm.” there's a pause. you hear the rustle of sheets as he shifts, the soft creak of the bed frame. “ode to the cotton bed sheets that smell like lavender.”

you snort. “beautiful. truly moving.”

“i try,” he hums. “for you.”

your throat tightens at that. it’s so quiet on the other end, and you can almost picture him—eyes half-lidded, phone pressed to his cheek, hair messy from the long day, the glow of the hallway light slipping through the crack under the hotel door.

“you should sleep,” you murmur.

“you should stop sounding like you’re about to cry again,” he says.

you blink fast. “sorry.”

“don’t be,” he says. “i miss you too. more than i wanna say out loud because jisung has ears like a bat.”

“tell him i said hi.”

“i will. in the morning. right now, i’m all yours.”

you smile into your pillow. “even if you’re like... thousands of miles away?”

“distance isn’t real,” he says, like it’s obvious. “you’re in my phone, in my head, and in my stupid heart.”

you murmur, fingers curling in the sheets. "i love you."

you can hear him smile. not the smug kind. the quiet one—the one he saves for you.

"i know," he whispers. "i know, baby. i love you too."

your eyes sting again.

“i wanna hear you say goodnight, before i go,” he says softly. “like i’m still right there.”

you tuck your face into your pillow, pretending he is.

you whisper, “goodnight, seungmin.”

he exhales, long and slow. “again.”

“goodnight, minnie.”

“one more time,” he murmurs, voice already halfway to sleep.

you grin, heart squeezing. “goodnight, love.”

“mmm,” he hums, already slipping under. “that one’s my favorite.”

the call doesn’t end. he never hangs up first. not when he’s on tour. not when you’re the only quiet thing that feels like home.

seungmin was always your plumber. doing it alone felt harder than it should’ve.

"okay, okay—stop. stop touching it. you're gonna break it."

"i have to touch it, kim seungmin.” you huff in frustration.

“not when you’re doing it like that.”

“how would you know? you’re in a limousine.”

on the other end of the call, there’s a soft rustling of leather seats, then a distant snort of laughter—probably changbin. then hyunjin’s unmistakable voice, teasing in the background.

you roll your eyes and crouch down by the sink again. “just walk me through it.”

you hear him sigh dramatically. “you're gonna need both of your hands. you’re holding the flashlight with your mouth, right?”

“yeah.” you say, slightly muffled

“cute,” he says, like it’s automatic.

you smile.

“okay, now reach in with your left hand—gently—and find the little hex socket.”

“the what?”

“the six-sided bolt, babe.”

you find it. “got it.”

“good. now take the wrench— the L-shaped one. the baby wrench.”

you laugh around the flashlight. “you mean the allen key?”

“i said what i said.”

you fit it into place, and it clicks. "what now?"

��turn it slowly. coax it back to life.”

“you’re stupid.”

“you’re smiling.”

he’s right. you are.

the background laughter comes again, through your phone. you take the flashlight out of your mouth and furrow your eyebrows, now glaring at the phone.

seungmin huffs. “ignore them. they’re just mad no one calls them to fix things with love and precision.”

you grin and go back to work. “why love?”

“you think i’d be guiding you through garbage disposal in a limousine if i wasn’t in love with you?”

you pause. heart full. “i love you too, minnie.”

“i know,” he murmurs. “now finish the job, so you can text me a picture when it works and i can brag to those idiots about how you’re the best mechanic alive.”

“deal,” you grin.

"and hey?"

"yeah?"

“don’t go getting too good at this independent thing without me, alright? you’ll end up not needing me anymore.”

you roll your eyes fondly. “bye, seungmin.”

“bye, love.”

your phone buzzes unexpectedly—no text, no facetime request, just a straight-up call. that never happens unless something’s wrong.

“hello?”

there’s a beat. then a shaky inhale on the other end of the line. not panicked, but definitely not seungmin’s usual snarky hello either.

“minnie?” you answer, sitting up straighter. “everything okay?”

he exhales again, this time more controlled, like he’s trying to reset himself mid-breath. “yeah, sorry, i just—sorry, this is gonna sound really dumb.”

“are you okay?” you ask again, softer this time.

“yeah. yeah, i just—” he pauses, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “we were walking into this venue, right? and i wasn’t thinking, just messing around with jeongin, and suddenly…”

he trails off.

“suddenly?” you prompt.

“i caught this scent. like perfume. i don’t know who it was, just someone walking by, but it—” he lets out a shaky breath. “it smelled so much like you.”

your heart clenches. “me?”

“yeah,” he says, voice low, almost like he’s embarrassed. “and i just—god, i didn't know i could recognize it so easily, y’know? i never paid attention to that stuff before. but it hit me so fast. like my brain was like, oh, she’s here, and i looked around like an idiot.”

you’re quiet, lips curling into something helpless and warm. “you’re so cute.”

“shut up,” he mutters, and it sounds half-defensive, half-melting. “i was just—i don’t know, kind of spiraling.”

“i should’ve given you the bottle before you left,” you murmur. “you could’ve sprayed it on your pillow or something. maybe your hoodie. made it easier.”

“okay well, actually,” he says, suddenly brisk. “i’m in a fragrance store right now.”

your eyebrows shoot up. “what?”

“i literally walked away from the guys and came in here. i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. “so you called me to ask what perfume i use?”

“maybe,” he says quietly. “maybe i just wanted to hear your voice while i looked for you in a bottle.”

you bury your face in your hand. “seungmin.”

“don’t make it a thing,” he grumbles, but his voice is soft again. “just tell me what it is. i wanna spray it on my wrist or my hoodie or something, and maybe then i won’t look around every time i smell it.”

you tell him, and he repeats it back softly, twice—like he’s memorizing it.

“okay,” he says, “i found it.”

you smile into the phone. “go on then, give it a try. you gotta confirm it’s really me.”

there’s a little silence. the soft pop of the sample nozzle. then—

he gets quiet.

too quiet.

you wait, lips parted, holding your breath like the silence might break if you exhale too hard.

“minnie?” you say gently.

on the other end of the line, there’s a small rustle—like he’s pulling the test strip closer—and then a faint breath, nearly soundless.

“...yeah,” he says, but it’s barely there. hushed. careful.

“is it the right one?” you ask, smiling even though you can’t see him.

another pause.

“it feels like you’re right here.”

you chest tightens.

another rustle—probably him turning away from the counter, footsteps echoing as he walks deeper into the store.

“i need to hang up.”

you blink. “wait, what? why—”

“just—thank you,” he says, quickly, like it hurts. “seriously. thank you.”

“min—”

but the line clicks before you can finish.

your phone rings just as you're brushing your teeth, screen lighting up with minnie calling. it’s early—too early for your brain to do much thinking—but your heart wakes up faster than the rest of you.

you swipe the call and press it to your ear, foam still in your mouth.

“hi, seungmin,” you mumble around your toothbrush, voice muffled and lazy.

he doesn't answer right away. just… breathes.

low. slow. deliberate.

you pause mid-brush. “...minnie?”

“baby,” he says, and something about his voice makes your hand freeze midair. deeper than usual. lower. like he’s under the covers, talking into the pillow.

“what time is it over there?”

“past midnight.”

“shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

a quiet chuckle. “couldn’t. been thinking about you.”

your cheeks warm instantly as you flicked the light switch and made your way to your bedroom.

“earlier today, your scent,” he adds, voice dragging a little now, like he’s letting each word settle before moving on. “you really messed me up with that.”

you sit down on the edge of your bed, heart pounding. “what are you doing?”

he inhales, slow—like he’s giving you a hint without actually saying anything.

“mm… i'm in bed,” he says, voice velvety. “lights are off. window’s open a little.”

you smile, because he’s playing. “and?”

he’s silent for a beat. then—softly, “jisung’s not here.” his designated hotel roommate.

you lean back into your pillow, a little breath catching in your throat. “where is he?”

“went to see chan. they’re doing a livestream in his room.” a pause. “won’t be back for a while.”

you don’t say anything—can’t, really—but the line’s quiet in that loaded kind of way. your breath hitches just enough.

he hears it.

“you gonna keep pretending you don’t know what i’m doing?” he says, voice dipping into something firmer, smoother. “or are you gonna be good and ask me what i want you to do?”

your legs press together on instinct, pulse suddenly very loud in your ears.

“we haven’t had a call like this yet,” you whisper, your voice barely holding steady.

“i know, baby. for now just stay with me.”

distance could do terrible things to people who loved each other. it stretched silence into assumptions, turned waiting into resentment, made every little misstep feel like betrayal.

and tonight, it was doing its worst.

“i just don’t get why you didn’t say anything,” you snap, hands gripping the steering wheel. “you waited until now to bring this up?”

“because i knew you’d react like this,” seungmin fires back, voice tight, like he’s trying not to be overheard.

“like what? like i have a problem with you being honest?”

“no,” he says, “like you twist it into something about you. like you always do.”

“wow.” you pause. blink. “you’re backstage, aren’t you?”

“yes.”

“then why the hell did you call me now if you don’t even have time to talk about this properly?”

“because it’s been eating me alive and i didn’t want to go on stage feeling like this, okay?” his voice wavers. not loud. just frayed.

you exhale, eyes stinging. “i’m not your emotional dumping ground.”

you suck in a shaky breath, throat tight.

“and you could’ve talked about this without raising your voice at me,” you say, quieter now.

there’s silence on the line.

you hear him shift, maybe press his palm over the phone. muffled voices in the background—staff calling him.

“anyway,” you continue, forcing the tremble out of your voice. “i don’t want to bring you down before your show.”

he’s still silent.

“i’m sorry, seungmin. i really am.” your voice softens further. “i love you. are we good?”

a beat. then—

“yeah. we’re good.”

your heart clenches.

you wait.

just for a second.

just long enough to hope he says it back.

but he doesn’t.

the line goes dead.

you sit there, phone still pressed to your ear, staring at nothing.

it’s been hours. half a day, maybe more.

you haven’t heard from him since.

you’re at your desk, legs curled under your chair, coffee cold, unread emails glowing in tabs you haven’t touched.

your phone buzzes.

seungmin: just got back. wanna call?

you stare at the message, thumb hovering.

you: it’s past midnight over there.

a few seconds later:

seungmin: it’s alright. are you busy?

you glance around your office—empty, quiet, dim with the afternoon light pooling through the blinds. the answer’s obvious.

you: no.

the typing bubble appears. disappears. Then your screen lights up.

incoming call: seungmin

your heart skips.

you hesitate just a moment but you answer anyway.

“hey,” he says softly, voice scratchy, tired. like he’s been sitting in silence just waiting to hear you.

you don’t say anything right away.

he waits.

“you should be asleep,” you murmur.

he chuckles faintly. “couldn’t. been thinking about you.”

you exhale, shoulders dropping just a little. “me too.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

you rest your chin on your hand, eyes tracing the little scratches on your desk, voice still quiet. “how was the concert?”

he breathes out a small laugh. “we did well. it was great.”

“were you tired during the dance sets?” you ask gently, genuinely. “you didn’t sound winded, but i know you’ve been pushing your knee too hard.”

there’s a pause.

he says, voice low with something like awe. “yeah, it was sore. but i iced it after. chan made me”

you laugh.

then, soft again, he says, “i’m sorry.”

you close your eyes. “me too.”

and it’s not everything, not the whole conversation. but it’s enough for now.

“I love you,” you whisper, trying again.

you can hear him smiling, even through the static.

“i love you too,” he says. “so much.”

you smile back, cheeks warm and aching in the best way.

but then—softly, almost before you mean to say it.

“i don’t wanna get used to this.”

there’s a pause. the kind that makes your throat tighten.

“used to what?” he asks gently.

you swallow. “being apart from you.”

he breathes in through his nose. slowly. “you think that’s happening?”

you shrug, even though he can’t see you. “some days it’s easier. and i hate that. like… am i supposed to be okay with not hearing your voice until midnight? with seeing you through screens more than in person?”

he doesn’t answer right away. just listens.

so you go on, voice smaller now. “are we starting to miss each other less?”

and then he says it, soft but sure.

“no.”

“i’m scared i’m gonna,” you admit, a little too quietly.

he exhales. “you won’t.”

“how do you know?”

“because i’m still here,” he says. “and every time you call, every time you say my name, it still feels like the first time. i’m never gonna be something you forget how to want.”

you blink fast, throat thick.

“even if it gets easier,” he adds, “it doesn’t mean it means less. it just means we’re learning how to carry it better.”

you nod, tears prickling—but this time, they feel okay.

safe.

like love you can live inside of.

“you’re still the first thing i think about,” you whisper.

“good,” he murmurs. “same.”

you pick up and immediately the screen is sideways, showing a very blurry Jisung laughing so hard he’s bent over the hotel bed.

"hellooooo," jisung yells directly into the phone.

you blink. "uh… hi?"

the screen rights itself. seungmin appears—barefaced, hair messy, eyes way too shiny to be sober. he’s lying on his stomach, chin squished into a pillow, voice soft and dangerously sweet.

“hi, baby,” he says, all low and slurred and dangerous.

“oh no,” you whisper. “how drunk are you two?”

“not drunk,” he insists.

“he’s drunk,” jisung confirms helpfully, popping into frame again and waving.

“shut up,” seungmin mumbles, blindly swatting at him.

you snort. “what’s happening over there?”

“he has something to tell you,” jisung says smugly.

seungmin groans, burying half his face in the blanket. “jisung…”

“tell her what you told me,” jisung insists.

“han jisung, shut your entire mouth.”

“too late. he said—” jisung gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “‘if she were here right now I’d let her ruin my life.’”

a beat of silence.

then seungmin smacks him off camera with a pillow.

seungmin flips back into frame, completely disheveled and pouty. “seriously, come over sweetpea.”

“i’m in a different country.”

“weak excuse,” he grumbles, already rolling over onto his side like the call’s exhausting him.

jisung peeks in again, holding up a half-eaten macaron. “if you were here, we’d give you one of these.”

you laugh, full and warm, cheeks sore from smiling.

“save some for me then,” you say, voice soft but playful.

seungmin doesn’t hear it—he’s already buried back into the pillow, mumbling something incoherent about what the bed smells like.

but jisung hears it.

he freezes, mid-bite, eyes snapping to the screen.

you meet his gaze.

he widens his eyes, mouthing: really?

you bite back a smile and give the tiniest, most deliberate nod.

his entire face lights up, but then he clamps his mouth shut, physically slaps a hand over it, and glances at Seungmin, who’s currently face down and humming the mario kart theme into the blanket.

“oh my god,” Jisung mouths again, silently losing it.

you put a finger to your lips, shhh.

he nods rapidly, then mimes zipping his lips and throwing the key.

seungmin groans. “why is it so quiet now? what—are you guys passing notes like it’s high school?”

“no,” jisung says, biting into his macaron and struggling not to beam. “just studying. real academic vibes over here.”

seungmin rolls over again, squinting. “weirdos.”

you just smile.

“see you soon,” you whisper, quiet enough that only jisung catches it.

and he grins like he’s holding the world’s best secret. because he is.

the screen lights up with a familiar facetime ring.

you answer, already smiling. “hi.”

his face appears—dim lighting, hoodie up, hair messy like he’s been running his hands through it all night. he’s lying on his side in bed, camera slightly tilted. there’s a stillness to him tonight. the kind that feels heavier than silence.

“hey,” he says, voice low. a little tired. a little distant.

you tuck your legs underneath you on the couch. “how long’s it been now?”

he doesn’t even pause to think. “five months.”

you nod. “we’re halfway.”

“only halfway.”

your breath catches at that. you weren’t expecting him to say it like that—like it’s a sentence.

you sigh, fingers tightening around your phone. “yeah.”

for a moment, neither of you say anything.

“i know you’re tired,” you say gently.

“i’m fine,” he replies, but there’s no weight behind it. like he’s used to pretending. “it just… feels really far tonight.”

you nod slowly, throat tight. “i know. it feels far for me too.”

he looks at you for a second longer—eyes a little glassy, lips parted like he’s about to say something, then thinks better of it.

but he does.

“i miss you, sweetheart.”

your breath catches in your chest.

he rarely calls you that. only when he means it. when he’s feeling something he doesn’t know how to explain in full sentences.

you swallow hard. “soon.”

he nods, slow. “yeah. soon.”

he has no idea just how soon.

no idea that your suitcase is already packed. that your flight lands tomorrow morning. that the hotel front desk already has your name and a keycard.

and as he murmurs, “i wish i could hold your hand right now,”

you smile.

“you will,” you say softly.

you keep replaying it in your head—seungmin’s face when he saw you in the crowd. that second of shock, then the dumbest grin as he stumbled over a lyric and tried to play it off like he meant to do that. you’d almost cried. almost.

and now it’s past midnight, the concert hours behind you, and you know he’s taken his time wiping off the sweat and glitter of it all, probably still tangled in post-show chaos and crew goodbyes.

which is why, when you hear the knock at your hotel room door, your heart does that annoying fluttery thing. you don’t even hesitate—you’re off the bed in seconds, bare feet padding across the floor, and you already know who it is before you check the peephole.

you open the door.

and there he is.

hair slightly damp, hoodie pulled low over his forehead, backpack slung over one shoulder. tired eyes—but shining. always shining when they’re on you.

most of his face is hidden in the shadows of the hood, just the curve of his cheekbone catching the hallway light. you can’t really see him, not fully. but you’d know that silhouette anywhere.

you don’t even get a word out. he drops his bag, wraps his arms around you, and pulls you into him like you’re the only thing holding him up. you let out a small squeal, laughing, your arms looping around his neck just as he lifts you straight off the ground.

“seungmin—!” you giggle as he spins you in a circle, your feet kicking in the air.

“i missed you,” he breathes into your shoulder before setting you down slowly. “i missed you so bad.”

once your feet touch the carpet, you're grabbing the front of his hoodie and tugging him inside. the door swings shut behind him with a soft click, and before he can blink, you’re kissing him.

he melts immediately, like he’s been waiting all night for this because he has. his hands slide back around your waist, pulling you in tighter and you giggle into it—completely overwhelmed and completely in love.

he stumbles forward a little, still kissing you, until your back hits the wall with a muted thud. you gasp softly into his mouth, grinning now as he presses into you, and he pulls back just enough to look at you, dazed.

“what…” he breathes, his lips brushing yours, “…what are you doing here?”

you blink at him, still catching your breath, still grinning. “i wanted to come surprise you.”

he just stares at you for a beat, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re real. then he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “you’re a crazy, crazy girl, you know right?”

“you think i’d let you go out of the country for ten months and not visit you?” you say, voice light, teasing, warm. “you really thought i could go that long without seeing your dumb face?”

he doesn’t answer. just lets out this soft, wrecked little sound—half-laugh, half-sigh—as he wraps his arms around you again, tighter this time. he buries his face into your hoodie, right against your collarbone, his breath warm through the fabric. you hug him back instantly, arms wrapping under his and holding him close. he clings. like he’s cold and you’re the only source of warmth he’ll ever need.

“come on,” you murmur, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head gently. “let me see you, now.”

he shakes his head against you, just the tiniest movement. doesn’t loosen his grip. doesn’t lift his head.

“seungmin,” you whisper again, a little firmer, leaning back slightly so you can reach up and tug his hood down.

the fabric falls away. his hair’s tousled, still a little damp from a shower or maybe the rain outside, and his face is hidden—tilted down, eyes trained on the floor. he still hasn’t looked at you properly.

all he does is lift his hand up to his face. wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. you catch the tremble in his fingers.

a sniffle.

“oh, minnie…” you whisper, your heart cracking wide open.

despite the way he towers over you, his shoulders are hunched, his head bowed low like he’s trying to disappear into himself.

you coo softly, barely a sound.

that does it.

he lets out this weak, shaky sigh like he’s been holding it in since the moment he saw you at the concert, maybe longer—and your chest seizes with it. he turns his face just slightly, burying it into your shoulder again, arms wrapping tight around your waist like he's scared you'll vanish if he lets go.

your hands are already moving—one smoothing over his back, the other stroking his hair—your body swaying with his as he starts to let out shaky, quiet gasps.

he sniffles again, shoulders still trembling, but when he finally speaks, it’s muffled into your hoodie. “the members were betting on me. on whether or not i’d cry when i saw you.”

you let out a little laugh and reach up to cup his cheeks, gently swiping away the fresh tears still clinging to his lashes. “and who said you wouldn’t cry?”

he hesitates. “me.”

you laugh again—soft and a little breathless—as your thumbs brush gently under his eyes. “of course you did,” you murmur, fingers sliding up to smooth through his damp hair.

he lets out a weak chuckle, eyes fluttering closed at your touch. he leans into your hand for a second before straightening up a bit, pulling his shoulders back like he’s trying to regain a sliver of composure.

even now, red-eyed and sniffling, there’s still something solid about him. the way he holds you, the way he stands just a bit in front of you like he’d shield you from the world if it even looked at you wrong.

seungmin's lips part, like he wants to say something but the words won’t come. instead, he just stares at you, eyes darting across your face like he’s trying to take in every inch of you he’s missed. like he’s scared you’ll be gone if he blinks too long.

“you have no idea how much i needed this,” he whispers.

you step closer, hands finding his again. “that's why i'm here.”

he shakes his head, fingers tightening around yours. “no, like—” he exhales hard, eyes shining as he glances down at your joined hands. “you don’t get it. every night, i’d come back and just... lie on the hotel bed and pretend you were next to me. i missed everything. your voice, your stupid little yawns, the way you poke me when i zone out.”

you let out a laugh, watery and soft. “i do not poke you.”

“you do,” he insists, eyes wide like it’s the most important fact in the world. “you go like this—” he imitates a dramatic jab to your side, making you laugh and swat his arm. he chuckles, bright and breathless, and then quiets.

your heart flutters and you don’t even try to hide how it shows on your face. you tug his hand and backpedal toward the bed, flopping onto it with a gentle bounce. propped up on your elbows, you tilt your head at him. “c’mere.”

seungmin shrugs off his backpack, then tugs his hoodie off by the back—grabbing it near the collar and pulling it over in one smooth, practiced motion. he holds it in front of him for a second, then slips out of the sleeves with the opposite hand.

his t-shirt clings in places and hangs loose in others, fabric soft and worn and framing the lean lines of his torso in a way that’s criminally distracting. your eyes fall on the way it shifts with every movement—subtle dips of collarbone, the slight curve of his waist.

your fingers curl slightly in the blanket beneath you as he steps closer, and your breath hitches without permission. god, you missed him. not just his face or his voice, but all of him—how he moves, how he fills the space around you like no one else can.

seungmin crawls onto the bed, slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. the mattress dips under his weight and the second he's close enough, your hands reach up instinctively—fingertips grazing his forearm, his side, like you’re checking if he’s really here.

he smells like his body wash, clean and warm with something a little woodsy. familiar. comforting. so him.

then he leans in, arms bracketing either side of your body, and your whole world narrows to just the space between you, until finally—finally—his lips brush against yours.

it’s soft. barely even a kiss at first, more like the ghost of one, like he’s still afraid he’ll break the moment if he moves too fast. but you kiss him back, and then he presses in more fully, and it’s everything. warm and slow and full of all the things you’ve both been trying not to say out loud.

he kisses you again, and again, each one a little deeper than the last—like he’s making up for every single day you were apart. one hand comes up to cradle your jaw, his thumb sweeping tender over your cheek.

“i love you so much,” he whispers, like it’s a confession. like it still stuns him just how badly he felt it.

you nod, blinking back the sudden sting behind your eyes. “i love you too.”

he exhales shakily, and then he kisses you once more—slow, full of longing—and you swear you feel the world right itself a little, just because he’s here.

he pulls away, just slightly, and rests his forehead against yours. your noses bump, and he closes his eyes, smiling so softly it barely lifts the corners of his mouth. “i was scared you’d forget about me.”

you shake your head, hand settling over his heart. “you’re impossible to forget. trust me, i tried.”

“i know,” he breathes. “me too. it was unbearable sometimes.”

you tilt your chin up and kiss the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, slow and lingering. his skin is warm under your lips, and you feel him exhale shakily, his body softening against yours like your touch is the thing holding him together.

his hands wander a little now, like he can’t help it—tracing slow lines along your back, the dip of your waist, smoothing down your arm and back up again. his hand slips beneath the shirt under your hoodie, smoothing over bare skin, and your breath catches.

you let him pull the layers of fabric over your head. let him take his time. he kisses down your neck, your chest, soft and focused, every press of his lips asking, are you sure?

and every answer you give is yes.

you wake up slowly, warm and hazy, the kind of rest that only comes after feeling completely safe. the curtains are still drawn, soft light peeking through just enough to glow against the sheets.

and then you feel it—his hand, resting on your waist. his thumb tracing little circles on your skin, like he never stopped touching you even in his sleep.

you blink your eyes open.

he’s already awake, head propped on one arm, looking at you with the calmest expression you’ve ever seen on him. the kind that makes your heart ache just a little because you know how much he doesn’t show easily.

“you’re staring,” you murmur, voice rough from sleep.

“you’re pretty when you’re confused and squinty,” he says, lips curving just barely.

you smile, still half-asleep, but it turns real fast when he leans in and kisses you—soft and unhurried, his fingers brushing your cheek like he’s still making sure you’re real.

“good morning,” you whisper.

“technically almost noon,” he teases. “but yeah. it’s good now.”

he pulls back, just enough to give you room as you sit up, blanket tugged up to cover your chest. your fingers instinctively rake through your tangled hair, and he watches you with a little too much amusement.

then he shifts, reaching over the side of the bed to dig through his bag.

“i have something for you,” he says casually.

and then he turns back around—with a box of macarons in his hand.

you gasp, grinning instantly. “you didn’t.”

he takes one out, leans in with the smuggest little grin, and holds it to your lips.

“if you were here,” he says, softly now, “you’d be eating one of these. and you are. so.”

you roll your eyes, but open your mouth anyway, taking a bite—and he watches you like he just won the lottery.

“sweet enough?” he murmurs.

you swallow, cheeks warm. “almost.”

he leans in again, brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“now?” he asks.

“perfect,” you whisper.

and he smiles like he never wants to be anywhere else ever again.

[pixiefelixie]

this is so beautiful i wanna cry. you write so well!!

no please, allow me

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 1.6k

summary: both you and chris are at battle in enforcing that chivalry has yet to die. but who will win?

tags: just short n sweet. pure fluff. slight suggestive part in the middle but not really graphic. enjoy!

It began, as so many sacred things do, in the quiet.

Sunlight had spilled through the gauzy curtains in soft, golden threads, dressing the apartment in the gentle hue of morning. The air had been still, reverent, and drowsy with warmth. From the kitchen, a kettle had begun to hum—a low, comforting sound that wrapped itself around the wooden beams and the breathing walls of your shared home.

Chris had risen before you. He always had.

You never asked him to. You had attempted, several times, to wake before him—to sneak past him with sleepy eyes and unbrushed hair in your valiant bid to prepare breakfast first—but somehow, without fail, he had always beaten you to it.

This morning had been no different. When you opened your eyes, the slippers by your bedside had already been placed neatly in reach, their interiors warm as if his hands had cradled them before setting them down. There had been toast on the table, buttered with absolute precision to every edge, and eggs that had clearly been coaxed into the shape of tiny hearts. He had insisted that he had “just thrown something together.”—his artistry betrayed him.

You had leaned in the doorway in silence, observing him in his natural state—humming under his breath, sleeves pushed up to the elbows of a threadbare sweater, hair tousled from sleep. There had been a peace to the way he moved, as though he was precisely where he had always meant to be.

You had stepped forward quietly, opened the drawer, and retrieved his favorite mug. He had noticed. His eyes had flicked toward you, a lazy, knowing smile curving at the corners of his mouth.

“Trying to steal my charm again?” he had teased, amusement tucked beneath his words like silk under lace.

“Trying to?” you had echoed, pouring the coffee before he could move, “More like succeeding to.”

His fingers had brushed yours as you passed the mug to him. He had not let go immediately. His thumb had traced a quiet path over your knuckles. The gesture had been small, nearly invisible to anyone else. But you had felt it—like a whisper to the soul.

“We’ll see about that,” he murmured, his dark eyes lingering on you as you turned to eat his meal.

With Chris, there had always been this—this delicate, unspoken duel. A ceaseless, affectionate sparring of tenderness. The two of you had existed in a continuous loop of care and quiet one-upmanship, each desperate to out-love the other with gestures so gentle they might have been missed by anyone not paying attention.

But you had always been paying attention.

At dinner, you had sat across from him in a quiet, amber-lit restaurant, your glasses of water catching the candlelight. He had lifted his, sipped once, eyes flickering to yours. You had done the same. He had placed his glass down deliberately, watching, waiting. So had you.

It had become a silent standoff—two stubborn hearts locked in a battle of generosity. Who would finish their water first? Who would have the honor of refilling the other’s glass?

You had taken a strategic sip.

He had taken two.

You had set your glass down, crossed your arms, and narrowed your eyes at him, a smile ghosting over your lips.

“Don’t even think about it,” you had warned.

“Too late,” he grinned, reaching for the glass bottle.

Alas, he was not fast enough. You had effectively snatched it before he could, and victory had never tasted as sweet as the smugness in your second sip of water.

Later, the bedroom light had been dimmed to a golden hush, casting slow-moving shadows across the duvet, and Chris had looked at you the way he always did when his kindness slipped into something heavier, needier—more deliberate.

He had not reached for you in hunger, but in worship.

His hands, calloused in places and gentle in others, had moved over you with the same reverence he reserved for delicate things. Every touch had spoken of intention. He had kissed your skin as though it were scripture, learning and reciting it all at once.

“You don't have to—” you had begun, already breathless from the way his lips had barely brushed along your inner thigh, a feathering of heat and desire.

“I want to,” he murmured, looking up through his lashes, voice wrapped in velvet. “Let me take care of you.”

And you had. Who were you to deny such a generous offer?

You had surrendered to him the way one might surrender to music or moonlight—utterly, quietly, without resistance. Because with Chris, giving had never been a transaction. It had been a language. One he had spoken fluently, eagerly, like it was instinct carved into him.

He had taken his time.

He always did.

As if every sigh that slipped from your lips was something he wanted to commit to memory. As if your pleasure was something holy, and he was the only worshipper needed.

He had never rushed you. He had watched you fall apart like it was the greatest honor he had ever known. His fingers had curled just right, his mouth patient and unrelenting, his name drawn from your throat like a prayer too long withheld.

And even when your body trembled from the force of it, when you reached down to pull him up, to offer him something in return, he had only kissed your wrist and smiled into your palm.

“Later,” he had whispered, voice low and rich with promise. “Let me give first.”

Because to Chris, love had always been an act of offering.

And in moments like these, he gave without restraint.

Later that week, in the entrance of a cozy bookstore, the two of you had stopped beneath the awning as soft rain had laced the sky. You had reached for the door handle.

But so had he.

Your hands had collided, and the moment had sparked into one of those ridiculous, lovely battles neither of you had intended but both of you had welcomed.

“Allow me,” he had said, bowing theatrically.

“Not a chance,” you had replied, already reaching again.

A breathless scuffle had ensued—one hand sliding above the other, elbows gently bumping, the door handle twisting back and forth like a prize sought by two laughing children. In the end, he had managed to open the door for you, and planted a swift, warm kiss on your temple and slid a hand on your waist, guiding you inside.

Every day with Chris had been filled with this kind of love. A thousand tiny wars of kindness. Disguised battles fought with umbrellas opened over the other’s head first, dinners cooked when the other insisted they were too tired, shoulders offered in silence during long subway rides home. You had discovered joy in hiding love notes in his coat pockets. He had retaliated by memorizing your favorite tea for every mood, ready with a steaming cup before you even spoke.

Once, on a particularly bitter evening, you had returned to find him wrapped in a blanket he had clearly meant for you. You had fallen asleep on the couch, curled around a cushion like something delicate. Rather than wake you, he had covered your frame with the second throw and cocooned himself into the smallest shape beside you, as if shrinking could somehow preserve the warmth meant for your comfort.

“Chris,” you had murmured upon waking, shifting to tug your blanket toward him. “You're shivering.”

“I didn't want you to be cold,” he had replied, voice softened by the remnants of sleep. “You always curl into a ball when you shiver. Like a cat.”

“You need warmth too.”

A pause. A snort.

“I like when you purr.”

That night, you had fallen in love with him again. Quietly, deeply, as if for the very first time.

And again the next morning, when he had offered you the first pancake with the slightly burned edge—your favorite. Again, when he had let you win the battle of who would carry the groceries, only to slip snacks into your pocket while your back was turned.

Every day, the war had continued. But it had never been one of damage—it had been a quiet revolution of softness. You would offer him the best looking and tasting pieces of fruit. He had tucked your charger into your bag before you noticed. You had pretended not to be tired so he could fall asleep first. He had feigned deep sleep, just to ensure you had the blanket.

There had been no laurels, no grand confessions proclaimed beneath fireworks or starlit stages. Only two hearts, steadfast and unspoken, engaged in a quiet contest where the scoreboard was marked not by triumph, but by tenderness—and the only victory was found in the curve of the other’s smile.

This had been your love story. Not carved into monuments or inked into timeless sonnets, but embroidered into the fabric of ordinary days. In the hum of the kettle, the warmth of a second blanket, the way he remembered how you liked your tea on weary evenings.

No matter how mundane a day turned out, not a single moment had ever felt small.

Even silence had a heartbeat. Each act—a dish dried, a door held open, a glass refilled—had spoken volumes. And beneath every gesture, a message lay nestled, gentle as breath:

I see you. I cherish you. Let me hold this life with you, in all the quiet ways that matter. For as long as you will let me.

And in return, you had spoken your answer without needing words—through folded laundry, kisses pressed softly to his shoulder when he least expected them.

Because in this tender, ceaseless war of kindness, you had both surrendered long ago.

And in that surrender, you both had found something far greater than victory.

You both had found home.

taglist (ask to be added here): @petersasteria @gdinthehouseee @aizshallnotbefound @burlesquerade @floofeh-purpi @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @ttturnitup @breakmeoff @sherrayyyyy @ricecake9999 @leni111 @scream-queen-25 @spiritualgirly444 @fairyprincesslvr21 @loonybunny1 @uuchii @sherxoo

[pixiefelixie]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CIAO SERIES MASTERLIST

Ciao means goodbye. Hyunjin says ciao to Suho, his closest friend, again and again—knowing one day, it’ll be the last. You say ciao to safety the moment Sangwoo steps on set, praying it’ll be the last time you have to. After Milan, you and Hyunjin were never supposed to meet again—not beyond magazine spreads or fashion week after parties draped in Versace. But when your carefully curated life starts to unravel and his public image crashes in real time, fate—or maybe just cruel timing—throws you back into each other’s orbit. It also means hello. And somehow, in the wreckage of everything else, you and Hyunjin say ciao. Again.

pairing: idol!hyunjin x actress!reader warnings: ex-flings to lovers, fake dating au, angst, fluff, low's are LOW and high's are HIGH, hurt/comfort, slow burn, suggestive themes, extra characters, themes of predatory behavior (sangwoo), terminal illness (suho), mentions of drug-dealing, references to past sexual intercourse important notes: The content of this work is purely fictional and is not intended to endorse or encourage any behavior that may be deemed inappropriate or unsafe. This story is created solely for entertainment purposes and should be understood as fiction. Reader discretion is advised.

ahhh i’m so so excited to finally be posting this!!! this little series has been sitting in my drafts for way too long and it means a lot to me 🥹 it’s a bit different from what i usually write but that just made it even more fun to work on. can’t wait for you guys to read it <3 first chapter will be coming out shortly!!

ongoing...

CHAPTERS (~10k words each)

chap. 1

chap. 2

chap. 3

[pixiefelixie]

hes so cool

MINHO ⋮ MEXICO CITY SOUNDCHECK — 250413 (© rojizas.room on tiktok)

[pixiefelixie]

i've honestly been writing so many oneshots i forgot how fun it is to write for a series :(( i have a short hyunjin series in my drafts with already 20k words and im gonna about post the masterlist when i feel committed enough to it. its honestly so different from what i usually write so im very excited to show what i have in store for you guys!!

[pixiefelixie]

╰┈➤ THE SEAMS BETWEEN US

: ̗̀➛ pairing — idol!leeknow x stylist!reader : ̗̀➛ word count — 2.3k : ̗̀➛ content — angst, fluff, comfort, established relationship, minor conflict, soft minho!!

minho wonders if you still see him at all. maybe you just forgot how to say it.

the door clicked shut behind him.

you didn’t even look up. your hands were busy smoothing the jacket across your lap, fingers twitching at every seam, checking for the tiniest pull, any imperfection. 

minho had just stepped out of the stall in the dressing room, clad in the base layers you'd selected—sleek, fitted, dark against his skin like shadows caught in motion. it looked good on him. you knew it. objectively, you knew. the tailoring was sharp, the proportions exactly how you’d envisioned them in your sketchbook. you’d gone through at least five versions of the concept, drawing and redrawing until the image in your head finally aligned with what you could create with your hands.

you rose to your feet, gripping the jacket by the shoulders, stepping toward him. the fabric was heavy, structured, custom-fit to frame him like armor. you weren’t sure if it would all come together. not really. there was no rehearsal for this moment. just instinct, vision, and the last few seconds before he stepped into the spotlight.

minho said nothing. he stood there, watching you. hands still at his sides. as if he could feel the tension threading through your spine and knew better than to disturb it.

you held the jacket up, arms steady despite the quiet tremble in your chest. minho stepped forward without a word, sliding his arms in one at a time. the fabric folded perfectly along his shoulders, clinging to him like it belonged there, like it had always been meant for this exact moment—on him, right here, right now.

you smoothed the lapels down and stepped back just enough to take him in fully. relief swept through you in a warm rush, and you leaned in, resting your forehead gently against his shoulder, eyes closed for a moment like the world could pause here with you.

“i wasn’t sure it’d all come together,” you mumbled, words tumbling out in a low rush “i knew what i wanted, but i wasn’t there when they fitted it, and i just kept thinking maybe the silhouette would be off or the hem would ride weird or the layering would flatten on stage lighting or—”

minho shifted slightly under your weight, his head tilted just enough that you felt the side of his face brush against your hair. “hey,” he said, voice quiet but sure. “it’s okay.”

you nodded against his shoulder, the fabric cool under your skin, and let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. 

“you should get your makeup done,” you murmured, stepping back, your fingers giving one last brush against the jacket’s collar. “bring changbin in here if he’s ready. i’ll clear out.”

minho didn’t move at first. just looked at you.

there was something in his eyes—soft, searching, a flicker of something you couldn’t place—but you were already half-turned toward the wardrobe rack, busying yourself with a stray hanger and pretending not to notice the way silence dragged.

“go,” you said gently, giving him a little nod over your shoulder.

he furrowed his brows slightly, lips parting like he wanted to say something else. but instead, he gave a small nod, eyes lingering on you for a second too long before he turned and walked out.

by the time he reached the other dressing room, brushes clinked softly against palettes, low music played from someone’s phone, and staff flitted between the boys like bees around a hive. 

he sat down in the chair like always, spine straight, arms folded. the makeup artist greeted him gently, already reaching for the primer.

“you look tired,” she said, more fond than concerned.

minho just nodded once, eyes forward.

just then, the door swung open with a familiar thud.

“dude,” chan groaned, dragging his feet inside like the hallway had just tried to kill him. “i swear, i thought i was gonna break my spine when i tripped over that damn cable. the ground moved, i’m telling you.”

from the other corner, hyunjin snickered behind the rim of his iced coffee. “please tell me someone filmed that.”

“i think the camera guy caught it. you’ll have to bribe him later.” chan turned to minho as he spun a chair under him. “anyway—oh, about the cue timing for the last chorus, we’re holding it half a second longer. just so the drop doesn’t feel too cut off. we’re syncing it with the overhead lights, so when you—”

“i know,” minho snapped.

chan blinked, startled, hand still mid-air in explanation. the makeup artist froze for just a second before continuing, eyes flicking nervously between the two. even hyunjin looked up now, eyebrow raised.

minho didn’t say anything else. 

chan stepped back slowly, glancing once at hyunjin like what the hell was that.

hyunjin just gave a slow shrug.

the members knew better than to ask when minho got snappy.

when it was finally time for stage call, minho moved like he always did—efficient, composed, letting staff hook his mic pack in place, tug at the hem of his jacket, adjust the in-ear cable down his back. one of the interns clipped a final detail onto his collar, another checked his monitor settings. he stood still through all of it, nodding when prompted, body present—but his head was a world away.

he was used to chaos. the rush of backstage. the flood of adrenaline before stepping into the lights. but lately, the noise didn’t distract him the way it used to. not like before.

because in the quiet moments in between—like now—his thoughts went straight to you.

you’d both known what dating in this world meant. the long hours, the tight schedules, the time zone gaps. but you were a stylist. he was an idol. you’d be around each other, constantly. it was supposed to be the one thing that wouldn’t be hard.

and in the beginning, it wasn’t. stealing glances behind clothing racks, whispering jokes during rehearsals, grabbing coffee during fittings. it was fun. effortless. you were both so in it—wrapped up in each other and in the work. being near you never got old.

but now, all your words were about fabric, fitting issues, hemlines. your eyes were always scanning the clothes on his body, not him. and he didn’t blame you. it was your passion, the thing you loved most. you were good at it. watching you pour everything into it was part of why he fell for you.

still, he missed you.

not the sharp, laser-focused stylist.

just you. the y/n who laughed into his hoodie on the tour bus.

now, he’d never felt further from you. 

out on stage, minho moved like water—sharp lines, perfect timing, every beat hit with that signature intensity that came from years of muscle memory. the lights made everything glow, catching the sheen of his jacket just right, shadows and shine sculpting him into the exact vision you'd spent weeks piecing together.

back in the dressing room, you sat on the edge of a fold-up table, eyes locked on the large monitor on the wall, watching the recording in real time. your hands had finally stilled. no more last-minute threads, no shifting pins, no tugging sleeves. the job was done.

and it had worked.

everything you’d designed came together exactly the way you hoped it would—the movement, the textures, the color harmony across all eight of them. it looked even better under the stage lights than you’d imagined. you should’ve been proud. relieved.

you were.

but your eyes stayed on him.

the colors danced across the monitor—seungmin’s brushed rose tones, felix’s cold shimmer, the gold dust on chan’s collar. it all blended, the eight of them like a moving canvas. but even with the symmetry, your gaze kept drifting back to minho.

“y/n?”

the voice pulled you gently from your thoughts. you blinked, turning to see the makeup artist peeking in through the door with her usual soft eyes.

“yeah?” you asked, offering her a tired smile.

she walked over and leaned against the table beside you, glancing at the screen. “i didn’t wanna be too nosy, but… minho seemed a bit off earlier.”

you nodded lightly, gaze still half-glued to the monitor.

she was one of the sweetest people you’d met on staff—warm, always checking in on everyone, offering granola bars and backup concealer. you liked her instantly. the two of you had grown close fast, little conversations while setting up or packing down. it was easy with her.

“i mean, he wasn’t rude,” she continued, “just… quiet. i don’t know. different.”

you finally turned fully toward her. “he’s tired.”

that was only part of it. you knew the rest.

it had hit you the moment the last person left the prep room, when it finally got quiet and you realized—you hadn’t really spoken to him lately. not him, not your minho. just lee know the performer, the hanger for your designs, the client you were supposed to help get camera-ready. every word had been about clothes.

he was still your boyfriend. and somehow, you’ve been forgetting to see him as one lately.

on the screen, minho hit his final pose before the lights dimmed. the crowd roared. you sat frozen for a moment, heart pounding—not with nerves this time, but with something sharper. something urgent.

you had to go to him. now. before another moment passed. before another day of missed chances and half-conversations slipped through your fingers.

you stood up so quickly the makeup artist looked up, startled. “where are you—?”

“i just— i have to go,” you said, already halfway to the door.

the hall beyond the dressing rooms was buzzing again, the post-performance adrenaline crackling through the air. some of the camera crew trickled in from the side entrance, earpieces in, trailing cables. the first few members rounded the corner soon after—chan first, sweat glistening at his temple, grinning wide. you lifted your hand and fist-bumped him as he passed.

“good right?” he joked breathlessly, and you smiled, but your eyes were already scanning for someone else.

hyunjin followed, still catching his breath, laughing at something han was saying. you offered them the same greeting, light and casual, like your heart wasn’t slamming against your ribs.

then you saw him.

minho stepped into the hallway last—slow, a towel draped around his neck, chest rising and falling steadily, lips parted from the effort of the stage. his jacket hung slightly off one shoulder, hair damp with sweat. and in that instant, you didn’t even think—your feet just moved. you crossed the distance and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his neck before he could even react.

he stiffened for a second—so shocked he didn’t move at all. you could feel the hesitation in his arms, how he wasn’t sure what to do. but then—gently, slowly—he folded into you. his arms wrapped around your waist, warm and steady, and he pressed his nose into your hair like he’d been waiting for it all day.

“you did such a good job,” you whispered, voice trembling against him. “i watched you dancing. you were amazing.”

and for the first time in what felt like days, minho exhaled—long and quiet—like finally, finally, something had clicked back into place.

he let out a small laugh—real, breathy, the kind that crinkled his eyes. “yeah? jacket didn’t crumple weird or anything?”

you swatted lightly at his chest. “shut up, you were perfect.”

minho just looked at you then—really looked at you—and in that crowded hallway with noise and bodies moving all around you, it was like you were the only thing he saw. like nothing else mattered now that you were here, arms around him, seeing him—not as a client, but as minho. your minho.

“i missed you,” he said finally, almost like it surprised him to say it out loud.

you leaned in again, the noise around you fading into nothing as you tucked your face back against his shoulder. your voice came out small, barely a whisper against the fabric of his shirt.

“i’m sorry,” you breathed.

it was soft—so soft he almost didn’t catch it. but he did. he pulled back just enough to see your face, his hands gently holding your sides, grounding you.

“no, no, ” he said, his voice soft, shaking his head. “none of that.”

your throat tightened, but his hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing just under your eye.

“we’re okay,” he said again, more gently now. “yeah?”

you nodded, lips pressing together, teary-eyed.

and when he leaned in and kissed your forehead, it felt like home.

“i love you, lee know,” you whispered, exaggerating his stage name like you always did when you were trying to get a smile out of him.

it worked.

he let out a low chuckle, the kind that started in his chest and made its way to his eyes. “you’re so annoying,” he said affectionately, grinning now. “i love you too,” he murmured, like it was the simplest truth in the world.

[pixiefelixie]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ THINKING 'BOUT YOU, THINKING 'BOUT YOU

: ̗̀➛ pairing — nonidol!felix x fem!reader : ̗̀➛ word count — 2.8k : ̗̀➛ content — fluff, mutual pining, first kiss, drinking, did i say fluff

hi guys!! its been a while since ive posted so in honour of spring finally being here, here's a little something ♡

listen while you read 🎧

you didn’t really know what to call it—this thing with felix.

you weren't dating—at least, not officially. but there had been late-night calls that bled into 3 a.m. giggles, inside jokes only the two of you understood, lingering looks, and “thinkin bout you” texts. there were shared secrets beneath shared clothes, hands that sometimes brushed against yours like it meant something, and a thousand almost-kisses.

you step back out into the yard, cold drink in hand, and the whole place practically buzzes with life. fairy lights are strung overhead like stars trying to compete with the real ones, glowing warm against the inky sky. there’s a group crowded around the lawn chairs, someone’s half-passed out on a beanbag, and rocky is thumping through the speakers like the heartbeat of the night. the bass pulses through the grass, the kind you can feel in your chest.

your red cup is already slick with condensation, and you wipe your hand on your jeans shorts as you weave back through the party. you bring the cup to your lips and take a sip—immediate regret. you grimace, jaw clenching slightly at the mess you dared to call a drink. who told you beer and liquor was a fun mix? oh right, you did, thirty minutes ago when you thought you were some sort of backyard bartender.

you’re shaking your head to yourself, when a voice cuts through the music.

“there you are,” it says, and you already know who it is before you even look up.

felix.

your heart does that stupid little flutter like it always does, even though you try to play it cool. he’s got that knowing smirk, the kind that’s equal parts trouble and charm, and he's dressed in all black like the night wrapped itself around him and called it fashion. his pants hang just right on his frame, and his blonde hair’s all messy in that on-purpose kind of way. there's a glint of something mischievous in his eyes, soft but sharp, like he’s been watching you this whole time and finally decided to make his move.

“hey, stranger,” you say, with that smile he always put on your face.

“hey, hotshot,” he shoots back, his own grin spreading. before you can blink, he plucks the red cup right out of your hand, holding it up between you two like he’s inspecting it for poison. “what's this?”

“you're gonna hate it” you say, biting your lip, already bracing for his reaction.

but of course he drinks it. because he’s felix. one hand holding his own drink, the other bringing yours to his lips like it's nothing.

you giggle as you watch him tilt it back, just a small sip, and then bam. instant regret written all over his face.

his eyes squeeze shut, and he kind of recoils, dramatically pressing the back of his hand to his chest. “oh my goodness,” he says, voice half-hoarse, half-laughing. “that’s horrible. what did you do?”

you’re already cracking up. “i told you!”

he’s still looking at the cup like it just insulted his family. you reach for it, but he holds it away from you. “i am not letting you go back to this. here, take mine.” he offers you his own cup, and his tone softens, eyes a little gentler now.

you pause for a second, the switch in his voice catching you off guard. he’s watching you carefully, like he’s been paying attention, like he already knows what you’d like. and not just the drink.

“you sure?” you ask, voice a little smaller now.

“positive,” he says, pressing it gently into your hand.

you smile, soft and a little shy despite everything, and then—without thinking too hard about it—you lean in and press a light kiss to his cheek.

it’s quick. barely there. but it leaves behind something electric.

felix’s smile freezes for half a second, like his brain short-circuited, and then it stretches wider, softer. his eyes crinkle a bit, and those dimples—those stupid dimples—make an appearance as he looks at you like you just handed him the stars.

he tilts his head just a little, eyes still locked on you like nothing else at this party exists—not the music, not the lights, not the dozens of people laughing and dancing around you. just you. his thumb brushes the edge of his own cup absentmindedly, but his focus is all yours.

“if you keep doing stuff like that, i’m gonna start thinking you like me or something.” he says, voice low and velvety,

“maybe i do,” you say, your voice playful, but your heart is thudding hard enough you wonder if he can hear it over the music.

he grins, eyes flickering to your lips just for a split second before he looks back up. “good. ‘cause i’ve been thinking about kissing you for, like… a really long time.”

you blink at him, momentarily stunned, because he says it so casually, so sincerely, like he’s telling you the sky’s blue or the stars are pretty tonight. and yet it lands right in your chest.

his fingers brush against your elbow, featherlight. “can i?”

your breath hitches.

it’s like the world slows down for a second—the music fades into the background, the laughter becomes a distant hum, and all you can hear is your own pulse thudding in your ears. your skin feels too tight, too hot, like your heart has pushed up into your throat and your body’s forgotten how to be normal.

he’s looking at you like you’re something fragile and precious, like he doesn’t want to spook you—but also like he knows. knows how much you want this. knows how long you’ve been dancing around it. knows you’re nervous, and he’s not in any rush to push past that.

you nod. barely. just enough.

and he moves in slow.

one hand comes up to brush a piece of hair away from your face, his fingers so gentle you almost shiver. then, finally, his lips meet yours—soft and warm and careful, like he’s pouring every unspoken feeling into something that barely even needs words.

it’s not rushed. it’s not messy. it’s just perfect.

his lips part just slightly, inviting but not demanding, and you follow instinct more than thought, leaning in a little bit closer. you taste the faint tang of beer on his tongue, cold and bitter and so distinctly him. it lingers for a second before it’s swallowed by the heat curling between you, the way his mouth fits against yours like it was always meant to.

you both pull away, slowly, reluctantly—like neither of you really want to, but you need a second to breathe, to process what just happened. your eyes meet his, and it’s like something clicks. like some invisible tension that had been stretched tight for so long finally snaps in the gentlest way.

his lips are still curved in the softest smile, his cheeks a little pink, and you can tell he's feeling just as dazed as you are. but then—you both lose it.

you burst into laughter at the exact same time, this messy, giddy kind of laughter that bubbles up out of nowhere and shakes your shoulders. the kind that makes your heart feel so full it almost aches.

out of sheer embarrassment, you lean forward and press your forehead to his chest. he smells like cologne and spring and something a little smoky, like the fire pit still burning a few feet away. his arms come around you instinctively, wrapping you up like he’s been waiting to do it for ages.

you stay like that for a moment—pressed into his chest, tucked into the safety of his arms, giggling softly like the two of you are in on some secret the rest of the world hasn’t figured out yet. his fingers rub slow circles into your back, and his chin dips to rest lightly on the top of your head. neither of you say anything, and you don’t need to.

it just feels right.

around you, the party continues, but it’s gone a little hazy now—like someone turned the dial down just enough to let the moment breathe. the fairy lights overhead glow in a soft gold haze, muted like candlelight behind frosted glass. smoke drifts lazily from the fire pit, curling through the air like it’s dancing to the beat of the music.

shadows flicker across the lawn. people are lounging around now, sprawled in chairs or slow dancing in the grass, voices hushed and blurred together like a watercolor painting. everything feels dreamlike, like you’ve slipped into a different world just slightly off from this one—a little quieter, a little warmer, a little softer.

felix’s fingers tighten gently around your waist, and he leans down, voice brushing your ear like velvet. “wanna sneak off?” he says. then, with a mischievous curl to his lips,

you don’t even hesitate.

you look up at him, eyes wide and nod.

he grins—giddy and boyish—and immediately reaches for your hand. you lace your fingers with his, and together you start weaving your way back through the crowd, ducking past conversations and the trailing edge of someone’s scarf, stepping over a half-empty bottle on the grass.

inside the house, there’s a group crowded around the kitchen island shouting over each other, someone sitting on the counter peeling an orange like it’s the most important thing in the world. someone else is singing way too dramatically into a tv remote. the lights inside are warmer, buzzing, a little dizzying.

you quickly tilt back the drink felix gave you, finishing it in a few smooth gulps. you toss the empty cup into the flooded garbage by the hallway door, turning just in time to see felix standing behind you, holding your old red cup—the one with the infamous death mix.

without a word, he raises an eyebrow at it dramatically, like it personally wronged him. then he throws it straight into the garbage can without giving it a last sip.

you and felix exchange a look—wide-eyed and stifling laughter—and quicken your pace, dodging between people and whispered excuse me’s and the occasional sticky beer puddle on the tile floor.

the second you step out the front door and onto the road, the night wraps around you like a breath of fresh air.

cool, quiet, and soft with the kind of calm that only shows up when everything else has faded. the street is dim and empty, lit only by the faint glow of porch lights and the hazy orange halo of a streetlamp down the block.

you and felix cross the road, sneakers scuffing quietly against the pavement, hands still intertwined like muscle memory. the houses across the street are asleep—lights off, windows shut, the occasional curtain fluttering with the breeze. it's the kind of silence that feels sacred, like the world paused just for you.

a little farther down, you spot it—a small building tucked between two tall hedges, maybe a community hall or some long-closed shop. it’s plain and quiet, its brick wall catching the dim glow from the streetlamp above. you tug felix’s hand, moving toward it without saying a word, drawn to the way it just feels still.

you reach it first, and as soon as your back touches the cool wall, you slide down with a soft sigh, knees folding up to your chest. the grass is damp and smells like spring. you pat the spot next to you, eyes flicking up at him.

felix doesn’t hesitate.

he drops down beside you with a soft thud, stretching his legs out and leaning just close enough that your shoulders brush. the second you rest your head on his shoulder, he exhales—like maybe he’s been holding that breath since the kiss.

you sigh again, softer this time, letting yourself melt into the moment.

his thumb brushes gently over your knuckles, slow and absent like it’s second nature. you watch his hand in yours for a beat before turning your eyes to the quiet road, the stars barely peeking through the haze above.

no words. just warmth. just stillness.

and the slow realization that maybe, just maybe, this night has only just started.

then, his voice breaks the silence, soft and low, like he’s afraid of disturbing the calm.

“you know…” he starts, eyes still trained on the road in front of you. “i don’t think i’ve ever really said this. not like this.”

you glance up at him, but he doesn’t meet your gaze just yet. his fingers squeeze yours just slightly before he goes on.

“you mean a lot to me,” he says. “like… a lot. and not just in the ‘i think you’re cool’ kind of way. it’s more than that. you make things feel lighter when they’re heavy. you make me feel like i don’t have to try so hard to be anything other than… me.”

your heart stumbles over itself, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. you smile, small and unsure, warmth flickering in your chest—but there’s something else too. something tugging at the edges of your comfort.

you don’t know why he’s being so sappy. it’s not that you don’t like hearing it—it’s sweet, it’s felix—but something about the weight in his voice, the way he’s looking at you now, finally meeting your eyes like he’s bracing for something.

and that realization settles in your stomach like a drop of cold water.

you try to keep the smile, to hold onto the sweetness of the moment, but your fingers tense in his just slightly. “why are you saying this now?” you ask, your voice quiet, cautious.

he hesitates.

felix goes quiet for a beat, eyes flicking back down to your intertwined hands. his thumb is still tracing slow circles against your skin, but now it feels more deliberate—like he’s trying to steady himself.

you feel the breath he pulls in before he speaks again.

“and i keep thinking… what even are we?” he says, voice low, like he’s afraid of saying it too loud might make it feel less real. “we’re not nothing. we never were. but we’re also not—” he cuts himself off with a breath, shaking his head again, softer this time.

“i don’t want to keep pretending like i’m okay with the in-between. because i’m not.” he glances down, then back up at you, his expression gentler now—like he’s not just saying it, but feeling every word. “and tonight… i don’t know. being with you like this—it makes everything else feel so far away. and it hit me.”

he looks at you then, full-on, no flicker of nerves this time. just him. honest and open and so felix.

“i want to be yours,” he says, steady. “and i want you to be mine. for real.”

your breath catches again, and you’re too stunned to look away.

he leans in just a little closer, like he needs you to hear it perfectly, no confusion, no room for misreading.

“will you be my girlfriend?” he says, voice soft but certain,

and just like that, all the air in your lungs evaporates. your heart feels like it’s trying to climb its way into your throat. you weren’t wrong—he was building to something big.

just not in the way you feared.

you blink, a slow smile spreading across your face despite the shock. “you absolute dork,” you whisper, eyes stinging a little with the pressure of how full you suddenly feel.

felix grins, sheepish. “that a yes?”

you squeeze his hand, lean in, and kiss him again—soft and sure, the kind that says yes a hundred different ways. you feel him smile into the kiss—just the smallest curve of his lips against yours, and somehow, it makes everything feel even more real.

you pull away slowly, your noses still brushing, breath mingling in the soft space between. his eyes flutter open, hazy and full of something gentle and glowing.

you stay close, forehead resting lightly against his, both of you quiet for a second. just listening to the soft rustle of the grass and the low thrum of the music still floating from the house in the distance.

“no take backs, lix.” you say, playful but breathless, like you just made the best kind of deal with the universe.

his eyes sparkle. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

[pixiefelixie]

𓆝..°°𓈒 ⋆ (필릭스) : REMEMBER THIS SUMMER "SUMMER DAYS"

𓆉 °°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ synopsis felix is living the summer every teenager dreams of, with a perfect beach house on the east coast of australia and an even more perfect girlfriend. by taking the best of both worlds, felix invites her to experience the world he grew up in to make this the best summer ever. amidst bonfires, romantic sunsets, and seagulls, felix has one goal this summer: to finally tell her he loves her. with just one week to do so, felix is met with a challenge to make his feelings known before time runs out. 

pairing: nonidol!felix x fem!reader, series warnings: this work is explicit and NSFW so minors do not interact!, established relationship, fluff, smut, injury mentioned (jellyfish sting) important notes: The content of this work is purely fictional and is not intended to endorse or encourage any behavior, especially among minors, that may be deemed inappropriate or unsafe. This story is created solely for entertainment purposes and should be understood as fiction. Reader discretion is advised.

wow, i can’t believe this is over. writing this story was such an experience. these characters feel like a part of me now, and it’s honestly kinda heartbreaking to say goodbye. but i just wanna say thank you for reading! this series will always stay with me, and i hope it stays with you too. i’m really gonna miss this. 💙

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nsfw warnings and chapter under the cut ~16k words

warnings: a lot of you wanted another smut chapter so here ya go loves!!, underaged sex, non-penetrative, making out, handjob (m. receiving), MDNI!!!

day 8 - 6:40

your knuckles hovered over the door, your fingers curling, then loosening again. the weight in your chest hadn’t budged since you left the apartment, and standing here now, it only grew heavier.

it was early. too early. the sun had barely started its climb into the sky, casting long, sleepy shadows over the quiet street. felix was still curled up in bed when you slipped out of the room. you hadn't left a note. you’d be back before he woke up.

hopefully.

you’d texted chris earlier, needing to talk, and he’d responded quickly. already up, he said. and so, you found yourself standing here, not entirely sure why, but knowing that this moment was unavoidable.

chris answered faster than you expected. he ran a hand down his face, blinking against the dim light, his curls a chaotic mess like he’d just tumbled out of bed. his t-shirt was wrinkled, the fabric twisted against his shoulder, and the drawstring of his sweatpants hung unevenly—proof that he had, in fact, not really been fully awake when he texted you back.

“hey,” he muttered, voice thick with sleep. his gaze flickered over your face, slow and assessing. 

you exhaled, some of the nerves tightening in your chest easing at the sight of him. “so much for already being up when i texted,” you said, eyes flicking to his mussed hair.

chris made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle, stepping back to let you in. “i was up,” he grumbled, rubbing at his face again. “just—laid back down for a second.” he stretched his arms over his head, joints popping as he yawned. “i have to go to the boat shop with my dad soon anyways.”

you stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you, and immediately, the house’s quiet warmth settled over you. the faint scent of coffee lingered in the air, mixed with something softer—fabric softener, maybe, or the remnants of last night’s rain slipping in through the open kitchen window.

“am i bothering?” you asked, glancing at him as he wandered toward the kitchen.

chris shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “no, no, you’re fine,” he assured you.

his house smelled like coffee, faint but warm, like it had been brewed hours ago and left to linger. the quiet hum of the fridge filled the silence as you stepped into the kitchen, chris trailing behind you. 

chris lifted the milk frother slightly, raising an eyebrow in silent question. you nodded, murmuring a quiet “thanks,” and he nodded back, turning his attention to making you a cappuccino. the soft whir of the machine filled the space between you, the early morning quiet settling in comfortably.

a moment passed. then, casually, chris said, “so, i take it things are good with you and felix now? considering you didn’t ditch us yesterday.”

a quiet breath of laughter left you, your fingers curling over the edge of the counter. “yeah,” you admitted. “we figured it out.”

chris snorted. “so the idiot finally told you how he feels.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the way your lips twitched into a smile. “yeah,” you murmured. “he did.”

chris snorted, shaking his head as he slid the finished cappuccino toward you. “’bout time.”

you curled your hands around the warm cup, inhaling the soft scent of espresso and steamed milk. chris watched you, the teasing amusement in his gaze fading as he took in the way you hesitated. his arms crossed over his chest, brows pinching just slightly.

“so,” he said, quieter now. “what’s wrong?”

you wrapped your hands around the warm cup, watching the steam curl into the air before meeting his gaze. and for a moment, you weren’t entirely sure how to answer.

“i’ll just get straight to the point.”

“go ahead”

“it’s about mabel.”

chris stilled.

it wasn’t dramatic. he didn’t flinch. he didn’t jolt back like you had struck him. it was smaller than that—quieter. the barest flicker of something in his face, so brief you might’ve missed it if you weren’t watching so closely.

but you were.

and it was enough.

you were right.

“i know what happened to her.”

he exhaled sharply through his nose, pressing his lips together. he didn’t ask how you knew, but he didn’t have to.

“and no, felix didn’t tell me,” you said before he could assume otherwise. “i found out myself.”

chris dragged a hand over his face again, but this time, it wasn’t just frustration—it was something deeper, heavier, something tangled up in the years he had spent standing by felix’s side, watching him unravel and piece himself back together.

“i feel terrible about it,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “not just about what happened, but about—about everything. about how young she was. about how young he was when it happened.” you swallowed, trying to press down the tightness in your throat, but it didn’t budge.

“i don’t feel right, chris.”

his brows furrowed immediately. “y/n—”

“i mean it.” you let out a breath, staring down at the cappuccino, watching the way the foam swirled with each subtle movement of your hands. “i keep thinking about how i’ve been waiting for him to just say it. to tell me he loves me. and i was so caught up in wondering why he wouldn’t, why it was taking so long—” your throat tightened. “and the whole time, it was her.”

chris inhaled sharply, arms tightening across his chest. his jaw twitched, like he was holding something back, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if he should.

your grip on the cup tightened. “and felix…” you hesitated, your voice threatening to waver. you clenched your fingers around the warm ceramic, grounding yourself. “he must have felt so horrible. losing her like that. it must have been—god, i can’t even imagine how hard it was for him to find someone else after that.” a slow exhale left your lips, shaking at the edges. “to trust someone else. to let himself feel for someone else.”

the silence between you grew heavier, pressing into your ribs, wrapping around your lungs like a vice. chris still hadn’t spoken, but the way he looked at you—carefully, calculatingly, like he was waiting for the moment you’d either break or pull yourself together—made your stomach twist.

you let out a sharp, uneven breath, shaking your head. “and chris, it’s different.”

his brows pulled together, but he didn’t interrupt.

“they didn’t break up,” you continued, your voice raw. “she didn’t leave him. she didn’t hurt him. she just… died.” the word felt ugly, brutal, but there was no use softening it. “she was taken from him, and if she hadn’t been—” you swallowed hard. “who’s to say he wouldn’t still be in love with her?”

chris’s lips parted slightly, like he might argue, but you kept going before he had the chance.

“and that’s probably why he couldn’t tell me he loves me.” your voice cracked, and you hated the way it did, but you couldn’t stop now. 

chris exhaled slowly through his nose, tilting his head back slightly as if the weight of your words had struck him harder than he’d expected. he looked at you for a long moment, his gaze steady and focused, but there was a shift in the air now, a tension that you couldn’t ignore.

“you’ve got it all wrong,” chris said, his voice low but firm. his tone was sharp, cutting through the room like a blade.

you blinked, the words hanging in the air like an unsolved puzzle. “what?”

the question came out before you even had a chance to stop it, but you couldn’t help yourself. this wasn’t how you thought it would go. you had said it—you had put it out there—and yet, now chris was looking at you like you didn’t understand anything.

“you really don’t know anything, y/n.” his voice was quiet, almost like he felt bad for you—for the fact that felix never gave you the explanation you deserved.

he took a step toward you, his posture stiff, like he was trying to steady himself, trying to keep his own emotions in check. but you could see it—the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched like he was about to burst with something unsaid.

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. the pieces in your mind were starting to shift, but you couldn’t make sense of them.

chris looked like he was struggling with something, like he wanted to tell you more, but was holding back—like he was protecting something that wasn’t his to protect anymore.

you finally whispered, your voice small. “what are you talking about?”

he met your gaze again, the conflict in his eyes still there, but now there was something else—a flicker of anger, a flash of something you couldn’t place.

“mabel was not some angel.” he stopped, swallowing, and for a second, you thought he might say more, but he didn’t.

you shook your head, trying to clear the fog in your brain, trying to understand. “but chris, i—”

“no,” he interrupted, his voice low but urgent. “felix and mabel had a very… interesting relationship. and when i told you before that she screwed him over, i meant she actually did.”

your stomach twisted.

chris wasn’t one for exaggeration. he joked, sure. he teased, he made sarcastic remarks. but when it came to things like this—things that mattered—he didn’t just say things for the sake of saying them.

“what do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

chris sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “look, i never liked mabel. i tolerated her because felix liked her, and that was enough for me. but she was…” he hesitated, searching for the right word. “complicated.”

complicated.

it felt too mild, too neutral, like it didn’t fully capture the weight behind his words.

chris exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “no, scratch that—she was the most manipulative, condescending bitch you’d ever meet.” his voice was colder now, edged with something raw. he let out another laugh—bitter, laced with old memories.

“i can’t tell you how many times i watched him second-guess himself because of her. how many times she’d say something—just the right way, just sharp enough—to make him think he was the problem.” his jaw clenched, his fingers tapping restlessly against his bicep. “she knew how to make him feel small. and he let her do it.”

your throat felt tight.

“he thought he loved her,” chris continued, quieter now. “and maybe he did, in his own way. but mabel? she never loved him the way he did.” his jaw tightened, his voice growing rougher. “she loved the thrill of making him insecure.”

a cold, sinking feeling settled in your stomach.

chris sighed, rubbing at his temples. “felix doesn’t talk about her for a reason, y/n. not because he’s heartbroken. not because he’s still in love with her.” he leveled you with a look—one that was heavy, serious. “because she left scars he’s still trying to cover up.”

and suddenly, everything—the hesitation, the fear, the way felix had held back from you for so long—it all made sense.

you stared at him, your pulse suddenly loud in your ears.

“listen to me.” his voice was firm, serious in a way that left no room for argument. “felix loves you. and don’t go thinking you’re some replacement. if anything, you’re the exact opposite of what she was. and that’s why he’s scared.”

your brows furrowed.

chris let out a humorless chuckle, pushing off the counter. “because you actually love him, y/n. you make him feel safe. you don’t make him question himself every second of the day. you don’t treat his love like it’s something he has to earn.” he leaned back against the sink, exhaling heavily. “you think he doesn’t realize that? that it doesn’t terrify him?”

a lump formed in your throat. “god,” you whispered. “i feel like an idiot.”

chris shook his head immediately. “don’t,” he said, his voice firm. “felix doesn’t make this easy. and honestly?” he let out a breath, raking a hand through his curls. “i don’t think he even fully understands it himself.”

you stared at the coffee in your hands, watching the way the foam swirled. your heart pounded in your chest, a storm of emotions crashing against your ribs.

“y/n.”

you looked up.

chris watched you for a moment longer, then exhaled, shaking his head slightly. his arms uncrossed, and without hesitation, he said, “come here.”

your throat tightened.

you hesitated for only a second before stepping forward, and as soon as you did, chris pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you in a firm, grounding embrace.

his warmth was immediate, solid. his chin rested lightly against the top of your head, and his hands pressed against your back, steady and sure. you closed your eyes, pressing your forehead lightly against his chest.

chris sighed, his voice quieter now. “i know it’s a lot,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “but you don’t have to carry all of this alone.”

you swallowed, nodding slightly against him.

the front door creaked softly as it swung open. felix stepped inside, shaking off the cold from the outside air. chris’s place had always been like a second home to him—he never knocked, never needed to. the lights were on, a quiet warmth filling the space, and he figured chris was here.

felix shut the door behind him and took a few steps in, about to call out when he stopped short. his gaze landed on the living room.

there, standing in the soft glow of the lamp, was chris—his arms wrapped tightly around you.

felix stilled.

chris’s arms loosened around you the moment you turned, your breath catching slightly when you saw felix standing there. 

his eyes flickered up to chris’s, confusion flitting across his face like a shadow before he quickly masked it. his brows furrowed for only a second, but the moment you stepped away from chris, moving toward him, his expression shifted. the second you reached felix, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself into him.

felix exhaled sharply, his arms coming around you almost instantly, holding you tight. his fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt like he needed to feel you, to make sure you were really there.

“i was wondering where you were, i got so scared.” felix buried his face in your hair, breathing you in like he needed the reassurance that you were here, with him.

your arms tightened around felix, your fingers gripping onto him as if trying to anchor him, to reassure him. his warmth, his scent—everything about him was familiar, safe. his heart pounded against your cheek, and you could feel the way he held onto you, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

felix exhaled shakily, his hand sliding up your back before his gaze flickered past you, landing on chris. “what are you doing at chris’s house?”

you hesitated, your fingers curling slightly into the back of his hoodie. you could feel the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the subtle shift in his breathing.

“i wanted to talk to you about something,” you admitted, keeping your voice gentle. “and i needed to run by it with him first.”

the warmth in his embrace didn’t disappear, but you could feel the way his body stiffened ever so slightly, the way his hands twitched against your back like he was bracing himself. he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he pulled back just enough to look at you. his brows furrowed, eyes flickering between yours, trying to read you, trying to figure out what this was—what this meant.

felix’s body stiffened against yours. his arms, still wrapped around you, tensed for just a fraction of a second—so subtle you might’ve missed it if you weren’t pressed so close to him. he swallowed, his jaw tightening, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter. “about what?”

his eyes landed to chris again, almost like he was looking for an answer before you even said it.

you let out a quiet sigh, dropping your gaze for a moment, staring at the space between you—the way your hands rested against his chest, the way his hoodie bunched slightly beneath your grip.

chris exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. “you know, felix,” he said, his voice firm. “you know what this is about.”

felix’s fingers twitched against your back. you could feel the way his breath faltered, just slightly, before he took in a slow inhale through his nose. he didn’t say anything right away, but you could feel the battle going on inside him. he wasn’t dumb. he knew exactly what this was about.

his voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it, something tight and strained.

“did you tell her, chris?” his jaw clenched, and he turned, pulling away from you just enough to face him fully. “i told you not to mess with this.”

your voice cut through the thick air between them.

“it wasn’t him, felix,” you said, your voice quieter now, but it held that sharp edge. you shifted just enough to look him in the eyes. “i found out on my own.”

his gaze sharpened instantly.

felix’s jaw tightened, and you could see the flicker of frustration cross his features. he turned away from you, his body tense, like he needed space, like the walls in the room were closing in. without a word, he stepped toward the front door, his sneakers scraping lightly against the hardwood floor.

you hesitated for a moment, but your feet followed him anyway, your pulse racing. felix stopped just in front of the door, one hand on the handle, his body facing the outside world as if he needed that distance, that air, to breathe. he didn’t turn around, but you could hear the tension in his voice when he spoke.

"let's talk outside," he muttered, his words clipped, almost cold. you nodded silently and followed him out as the morning breeze hit you like a sudden breath of air, cool against your skin, rustling the leaves in the trees around you. you felt it, the shift in the atmosphere, the way it made everything feel a little more real, a little sharper. the silence between you both stretched, thick and uncomfortable, like the air was holding its breath, waiting for something to break it.

felix’s voice was low, quieter than before, and the question hung between you like a challenge, a plea for clarity. “if it wasn’t chris, then who told you?”

you looked at him then, really looked at him. the way his jaw clenched, his eyes not meeting yours directly, but somewhere past you as if he couldn’t bear to face the reality of this conversation. the guilt was there, and you could feel it—heavy and thick in the air.

“why does it matter?” you murmured instead, and to your horror, your voice cracked. 

felix’s expression softened just slightly, but you weren’t done. the emotions inside you were pressing against your ribs, demanding to be spoken, to be heard.

“i’ve spent our whole relationship wondering about who she was,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper now, but there was weight in each word. “you never talked about her. you barely mentioned her. what was i supposed to think when you’ve been so obviously hiding something?”

felix’s hands flexed at his sides, the tension in his body like a taut string, just waiting to snap. he didn’t have to say anything—you could feel it. your words were landing like daggers, each one leaving a mark on him.

“i’ll tell you right now, felix.” your voice was quieter now, but just as firm. “i could’ve found out months ago. but i told myself i could trust you. that you’d tell me yourself. that you’d tell me why you act like you’re seeing a ghost every time she’s brought up.”

the wind howled around you, the distant waves crashing against the rocks, but all you could focus on was him. felix still hadn’t moved an inch, his eyes fixed on the ground like he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. his chest heaved, shallow breaths coming in and out like he was trying to brace for the storm you were unleashing.

your heart hammered in your chest, but you pushed forward, step by step, closer to him. the air between you felt electric, charged with everything that had gone unsaid.

you took one slow, deliberate step forward, the tension between you both thickening. felix’s eyes flickered to yours for a brief second before darting away, unable to hold your gaze for more than a heartbeat. you reached out then, your hand trembling slightly, but it was more from the weight of everything hanging between you than fear.

you gripped his hand. his fingers twitched, and he instinctively curled his fingers around yours, but there was a hesitation, a wariness that you could feel in the way he held you, like he wasn’t sure if he could fully trust himself to be there.

“but i get it, felix,” you whispered, your voice softer now, but still steady, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. you squeezed his hand, your palm warm against his cold skin. “after finding out, i understand why you’d hide it. i understand why you’d keep it from me. i’m not mad at you for that. not at all.”

you met his eyes, and this time, he didn’t look away. there was something different in the way he was looking at you now—something soft, something broken. you let him see it, the sincerity in your gaze, the truth of your words.

“but you can’t blame me for wanting to know,” you finished, your voice quiet. “so please,” your voice cracked. “please talk to me.”

the silence that followed felt like an eternity, thick and suffocating. you stood there, heart racing, waiting for him to say something, anything. but felix just stood frozen, his gaze dropping to the ground, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

your hand still held his, and you could feel the tremble in his fingers, the tension in his body. the world seemed to pause around you, the wind picking up and brushing past you both, but it all felt distant, like it was happening to someone else.

finally, he spoke, his voice so quiet it almost didn’t feel real.

“i thought i killed her.”

your heart skipped a beat, your mind struggling to catch up with what he’d just said. you blinked, the confusion on your face clear, but you couldn’t speak.

“what?” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips, barely making sense to you.

felix’s eyes remained fixed on the ground, the weight of his words hanging between you like a thick fog. he looked almost... haunted. his eyes were shiny, glistening like they were holding back something more than just tears—like they were trying to contain everything he had buried deep inside. his jaw was tight, his lips barely moving as he spoke again, the words coming out in a strangled whisper.

“i hated her, y/n,” felix murmured, his voice barely audible, cracking under the weight of the words. “god, i hated her so much.” he swallowed hard, his chest heaving with a deep breath that did nothing to calm him. his face was tight with emotion, like he was still trying to wrestle with the parts of himself he didn’t want to face. 

you stood frozen, feeling like the ground beneath you was shifting with every word he spoke. you had known about the past, known about mabel and the hurt she’d caused him, but hearing it like this, hearing how much hatred and confusion he carried—it felt like being punched in the chest.

felix’s eyes were distant, staring down at the ground as he continued, his words flowing in a rush now, spilling out like a dam breaking. “two summers ago... when she went back to the states. i thought i’d finally get a break. i thought i could breathe again. i was away from her. away from all her toxic bullshit.” his voice wavered, and you could hear the bitterness, the anger that had built up over the years.

“during that summer, i thought i could finally live that i didn’t have to deal with her, and i actually... i actually felt free.” he looked up at you then, his eyes pained, glistening with unshed tears. “i wished, every single day, that she wouldn’t come back to australia. i wished that i wouldn’t have to see her again. i wanted her to stay away. i wanted her gone from my life for good.”

felix’s voice cracked, trembled, as he looked at you then, his face twisting in pain. “and then she died on the way here. she was gone, and all i can think is... i wanted that. i wished for it every day. and now...” his voice faltered again, the words breaking apart before he could finish.

you could see how deeply this had cut him. how torn he was between what he thought he’d wanted, and the reality of what had actually happened. his guilt was suffocating him, drowning him in a way you had never seen before.

what does it do to a person when their biggest tormentor, their deepest wound, is suddenly gone? 

there’s no closure, no way to process the years of pain and rage. instead, felix was left with an emptiness—a hollow feeling, like a part of him that he didn’t even know how to acknowledge had disappeared along with her. 

you stood there, the silence stretching between you two like an endless chasm, as you tried to comprehend what felix must have been feeling.

“i know you think i’m crazy,” he said, his words fragile, like he was afraid of what you might think. “like i’m not over her. that i’m still hung up on her. but i’m not. i swear to god, i’m not in love with her anymore.”

you stepped closer to him, your fingers brushing against his hand again. “i don’t think you’re crazy,” you said, your voice steady, trying to match the calmness in your heart. “i think you’re human. and guilt is a hell of a thing. i don’t know what it’s like to carry that kind of weight with you every day... but i know it must hurt.”

felix didn’t speak at first, just let your words settle around him to know that you weren’t pushing him away, that you weren’t going to jump to conclusions.

“but i know you’re over her,” you added quietly. “you’re allowed to feel how you feel about all of this, even if it doesn’t make sense. i’m not going anywhere, okay?”

you opened your arms instinctively, and in that second, felix melted into you. his chest pressed against yours, his face burrowing into the crook of your neck, like he was seeking solace, a place to let go of everything he had been holding in for so long.

you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the tremble in his body. the weight of everything he had just revealed was still there, but in this moment, it was like you could take some of that burden off him, if only for a little while.

“i’m so glad i told you,” he murmured into your skin, his voice thick with emotion. you could feel the words vibrating through his chest, his breath warm against your neck.

you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of him. “i’m glad you did too,” you whispered back, your voice soft but steady. “you don’t have to keep things like that locked inside, felix. i’m here. always.”

for a moment, there was only the sound of your breathing, the quiet rustle of the breeze around you, the weight of the world seeming to shift just a little.

“i love you,” you whispered, the words so natural, so right, that you almost couldn’t believe they hadn’t been said sooner. you meant it, every syllable. you loved him—so much it was almost overwhelming. it was more than just the words; it was the depth of everything you felt for him, the way his vulnerability made your heart ache in the most beautiful way.

felix’s shoulders sagged, the last bit of tension leaving his body. “i love you too.”

day 8 - 11:00

the sun was high now, glinting off the rolling waves as they crashed lazily against the shore. the morning storm had long passed, leaving behind nothing but a crisp, salt-kissed breeze and a sky so blue like it was out of a movie.

you waded out of the water, breathless from laughing, your skin damp and glistening in the sunlight. felix was right beside you, shaking his head like a wet dog, sending droplets flying in every direction.

“felix—stop,” you squealed, shielding your face with your arms, though you were already soaked.

he grinned, wicked and unrepentant, pushing his hair back from where it stuck to his forehead. “what? you’re already wet.”

you huffed, rolling your eyes, and without thinking, you shoved him—hard.

felix stumbled back a step. “oh?”

you barely had time to laugh before he was shoving you right back, his hands warm against your bare shoulders. you yelped, feet slipping slightly in the wet sand, but before you could retaliate, he was already laughing, eyes bright and boyish.

the two of you were back at the cove, water droplets clinging to your skin, the sun warming every inch of you as if trying to dry you off itself. the cove was as breathtaking as ever, tucked away from the rest of the beach like a secret only you and felix knew. the towering rock formations framed the shore, their rugged edges softened by patches of greenery that clung to the stone. the sand, fine and golden, still held the last bit of coolness from the morning, but with the way the sun hung high in the sky now, it wouldn't last much longer. 

felix sighed as he plopped down onto the sand, bracing his arms behind him and tilting his face up to the sky. his skin was still damp, beads of water catching on his collarbones, trailing down his chest.

you watched him for a moment, the way the sun lit up the sharp angles of his face, the curve of his lips still stretched into an easy grin. he looked so at peace, so effortlessly golden in the afternoon light, like he belonged here—like he was part of the sun and the sea and everything warm.

then he turned his head, catching you staring. his smile softened, something playful but a little more thoughtful underneath it. without a word, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your thigh before settling there, warm and steady. his thumb traced absent circles over your skin, and it sent a tiny thrill up your spine.

“you gonna stand there all day?” his voice was low, teasing, but there was something else behind it, something quieter.

you smiled, sinking down onto your knees beside him, the sand soft beneath you. “maybe,” you murmured, tilting your head. “i like the view.”

felix let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head, but there was a pinkish hue creeping up his neck. his fingers tightened slightly on your thigh, and when you leaned in just a little, he met you halfway.

and then he tilted his head down toward his lap. an invitation.

you raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

felix’s lips twitched, a hint of a smile curling at the edges. he tilted his head down again, more deliberate this time, widening his eyes.

you held his gaze for a second longer before a soft chuckle slipped past your lips. shaking your head, you lowered yourself onto your knees, the sand cool beneath them.

felix wasted no time. as soon as you settled against him, his arms slid around your waist, pulling you in close, his palms splayed over your bare skin. the heat of his touch sent a shiver up your spine, the contrast of the cool breeze against the warmth of his body making your skin prickle.

he dipped his head without hesitation, pressing his face into the curve of your neck, breathing you in like the salty air wasn’t enough. his lips found the spot just beneath your jaw, soft at first—just a lingering press of warmth. then, his mouth moved lower, kissing along the side of your throat, slow and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

and then—his teeth. a light graze, barely there, but enough to send a sudden jolt through you.

you twitched, a surprised chuckle bubbling up before you could stop it. "felix," you laughed, squirming slightly in his hold.

he grinned against your skin, arms tightening around your waist as he pressed another kiss there, lips curving. "what?" he murmured, though he didn’t pull back.

"you know what," you accused, still laughing softly as he dragged his nose along your skin, slow and lazy, like he was committing every inch of you to memory.

felix hummed against your skin, the sound deep and satisfied, like he was exactly where he wanted to be. his hands traced slow, lazy circles against your sides, fingertips skimming just beneath the edge of your swimsuit, like he was testing the limits of how much he could touch before you stopped him.

but you didn’t.

"you smell good," he murmured, his lips still ghosting over your skin. "like salt and sunshine."

you huffed, but it came out breathy, your fingers curling against his shoulders. "you're so weird."

he grinned again, looking entirely too pleased with himself. but then—just when you were about to shove him for being so smug—he moved.

his hands slid up to cradle your face, and before you could catch your breath, his lips were on yours. warm and firm, but unhurried, like he was savoring the feeling of you beneath him.

and he kissed like he meant it. like he’d been waiting forever.

your hand slid across his chest, fingers trailing over smooth, sun-warmed skin. he felt solid beneath your touch, every inch of him sculpted and familiar, like something you’d memorized once but were only now remembering. his abs tensed slightly under your fingertips, and a quiet, pleased hum left his throat as you explored the planes of his body, tracing the ridges of muscle like you had all the time in the world.

gosh, you had missed this. missed him.

the heat of him, the way he touched you like he didn’t want to let go, like he needed you closer. your body pressed against his, and he pulled you in tighter, chest rising and falling beneath your palm in time with his uneven breaths.

"you're driving me crazy," he murmured against your lips, voice rough, laced with something deeper.

a shiver ran through you, but you weren’t about to let him get the upper hand so easily. "then stop talking," you whispered, fingers sliding lower, nails grazing just above the waistband of his swim trunks.

felix inhaled sharply, his whole body going still. you felt the way his muscles tensed beneath your fingertips, the slight hitch in his breath as your hand hovered just above the waistband of his swim trunks.

for a moment, he didn’t move. he just looked down at your hand—staring like he was trying to process what was happening, what it meant. then, slowly, his gaze lifted to yours.

your heart pounded. not just from the heat, not just from the way he felt under your touch, but from the weight of the moment pressing between you. this had always been something unspoken, something hanging in the air like a possibility neither of you ever dared to reach for—until now.

"do you—" your voice was quiet, careful, but steady.

felix swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. his fingers twitched against your skin, like he was holding himself back, thinking, deciding. and then, finally, his lips parted.

"yes."

it was barely a breath, but it was enough.

something in his face shifted—nervous, but sure. he let out a soft laugh, almost like he couldn’t believe this was happening, and then he smiled. that smile—the one that always made your stomach flip, the one that was full of warmth, full of him.

before you could say anything, he leaned in, kissing you quickly, a little eager, a little shaky, like he just had to feel you against him again. his hands held your waist, warm and grounding, and you were already moving, already reaching for him—

then—

a noise.

a sharp rustling in the trees behind you.

felix froze. you did too, your fingers stilled, your breath caught in your throat. the sound wasn’t just the wind. it was something—or someone.

your eyes snapped to his, wide and questioning. he was already looking past you, his whole body on alert, jaw tight.

neither of you spoke. neither of you moved.

then, another rustle. closer this time.

your heart hammered. "felix…" you whispered.

he exhaled, lips pressing into a thin line. then, still holding onto you, he turned his head toward the trees, gaze sharp and searching.

the trees rustled again, the sound sharper this time—closer. your stomach twisted.

"what is that?" you whispered again, barely moving your lips.

his hand tightened on your waist, his body tense against yours. then, without hesitation, he whispered back, "hide."

your pulse jumped. he was already moving, already pulling you up with him, his grip firm but careful as he guided you toward the nearest cover—a large rock nestled against the edge of the cove, half-hidden by the curve of the arch.

you scrambled behind it together, the sand hot beneath your feet as you crouched low. felix's hand found yours in the dim shade of the rock, fingers lacing between yours. his grip was warm, steady, but you could feel the way his pulse thrummed just as fast as yours.

felix shifted slightly, just enough to peer around the edge of the rock. his jaw was tight, lips pressed together, eyes narrowed as they flicked toward the trees. he was watching. waiting.

and then—

another rustle. more deliberate this time. slow. like someone was taking careful steps through the undergrowth.

your fingers curled tighter around his. your breath hitched.

felix’s grip on your hand tightened as voices broke through the quiet.

“yeah, this whole area’s overgrown,” one of them said, his voice carrying through the trees. “too many plants blocking the view. we’ll need to clear some of it out.”

a second voice hummed in agreement. “shame, though. it’s beautiful back here. you don’t get many spots like this anymore.”

felix shot you a look, his brows lifting, and despite the pounding of your heart, you almost laughed. here you were, crouched behind a rock like fugitives, while these guys casually discussed landscaping.

but they weren’t leaving.

"let's have a look over here."

the words sent a sharp jolt down your spine. footsteps shifted—deliberate, moving toward you.

felix’s entire body went rigid. his grip on your hand became iron, his breath steady but sharp. you turned to him, eyes wide, but he wasn’t looking at you—he was looking around, scanning, calculating, his mind already racing ahead to what came next.

the space behind the rock suddenly felt too small. too exposed.

"we need to go," he whispered, his voice barely audible beneath the sound of the waves.

your stomach flipped. "how?"

his gaze flicked toward the water, then back to you.

no time.

felix exhaled sharply. then, without another word, he grabbed your wrist. “come here.”

you barely had time to react before he was moving, tugging you with him as he crept toward the water’s edge. he didn’t hesitate—just stepped in, sinking into the cool waves like it was second nature. the waves lapped at his legs as he pushed forward, the water swallowing him inch by inch until he was gliding effortlessly into its depths.

you followed, breath tight in your chest, heart hammering against your ribs. the moment you were deep enough, you let go of the earth beneath you, pushing off with a single kick, the ocean cradling your body as you drifted forward. the cool rush of the water swallowed the heat of your skin, the sound of your own pulse drowned beneath the rhythmic lull of the waves.

the sound of their voices faded behind you, muffled by the rush of the ocean in your ears. the cove stretched out ahead, and beyond it, the rocky cliffs curved around, hiding another small, empty stretch of shore.

however, there was no soft sand, no welcoming stretch of land. instead, a cluster of slick, uneven rocks jutted out from the base of the cliffs, their dark surfaces glistening under the afternoon sun. the tide rushed against them, filling the crevices with swirling foam before retreating again.

it was no beach. but it was something.

relief bubbled up in your chest, sharp and sudden, and before you could stop yourself, a breathless laugh slipped past your lips. you turned to felix, still swimming beside you, ready to joke about your great escape.

but something was wrong.

his face was tight, his jaw clenched, brows furrowed in a way that sent an instant jolt of unease through you. his strokes were still strong, still pushing him forward, but there was a stiffness to them, a strain in the way he moved.

your stomach dipped. “felix?”

his breath came out shakier than before. he hesitated, like he didn’t want to say it.

“i got stung.”

the words hit you like a wave, cold and sudden. your laughter died on your lips.

your face dropped. “what?”

felix winced, his movements faltering just slightly. “something in the water.” his voice was tight, but controlled, like he was trying not to make a big deal of it.

panic flared in your chest. without thinking, you surged toward him, cutting through the water with quick, urgent strokes.

“don’t,” he said quickly, his voice strained. “it might still be here.”

you ignored him, reaching for him anyway.

“y/n,” felix warned, but his voice wavered, the edges fraying with something dangerously close to pain.

you didn’t stop. you couldn’t.

the moment your hands found him, his body tensed beneath your touch, his muscles drawn tight like a bowstring. his skin was warm—too warm—beneath the cool embrace of the water, and as you gripped his arm, he squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling sharply through his nose.

your stomach twisted. “felix,” you breathed, scanning him in a rush, eyes darting over his chest, his arms, the expanse of his stomach just beneath the surface. “where?”

he shook his head slightly, jaw locked, his breath coming out in controlled, shallow pulls. “i don’t—” a sharp inhale cut him off. 

without thinking, you moved, your hands ghosting over his side. the moment your fingers brushed just beneath his ribs, felix flinched—his entire body jerking at the contact.

“shit—” his hand shot out, gripping your wrist, his eyes squeezing shut even tighter, a pained hiss slipping past his teeth. “there. there.” another shudder ran through him, his head dipping forward.

panic surged in you like a wave. your mind raced, trying to remember anything—anything—you knew about marine stings. jellyfish? stingray? something else? you had no idea. you had no clue what the hell had just sunk its venom into your boyfriend’s skin, but you did know that every second spent floating here was another second wasted.

his muscles tensed beneath your touch as he moved, as if forcing himself to keep going, to push forward despite whatever fire was searing beneath his skin. he cursed under his breath, his jaw clenching so tightly you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.

the jagged rocks were only a few strokes away. the waves crashed against them in a steady rhythm, white foam licking the edges like a warning. you had to time it right—wait for the moment between swells and move.

you tightened your hold on felix, heart pounding, breath quick. “we’re almost there,” you murmured, trying to sound steady, even though your chest was tight with fear.

felix just nodded, lips pressed into a thin line, his body tense against yours. and then, with a deep breath, you surged forward, dragging him with you, toward the rocks, toward safety, toward whatever came next.

the shore was close now—just a little further. the waves grew gentler as the water shallowed, the ocean floor rising beneath your feet. you could almost touch it, almost pull both of you onto solid rocks.

felix’s fingers dug into your wrist, a sharp, almost desperate pressure. it hurt—his grip like iron, like he was holding on for dear life—but you didn’t say anything. if it was grounding him, if it was giving him even the smallest bit of relief, you could take it.

his breath came in sharp bursts, his jaw clenched so tight you were sure it ached. every now and then, he let out a shaky exhale, like he was trying to work through the pain, trying to convince himself it wasn’t as bad as it clearly was.

“almost there,” you murmured, voice low, steady. “just a little more.”

he gave a weak nod, but his grip on you only tightened.

the moment your fingers found solid rock, you clung to it, bracing yourself against the slick surface as the water tugged at your legs. the tide was relentless, threatening to pull you back in, but you gritted your teeth and pushed forward.

“come on,” you urged, turning to felix.

his jaw was clenched, his breathing uneven, but he didn’t hesitate. with a sharp inhale, he reached for the ledge, his arms trembling slightly as he hauled himself up beside you. he gritted out another curse as his side brushed against the stone, a fresh wave of pain stiffening his movements.

the second you were both out of the water, felix collapsed back onto the rock, exhaling shakily. his head tipped back against the uneven surface, his chest rising and falling in heavy, controlled breaths.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the only sound was the ocean crashing against the rocks below, the water swirling hungrily around where you had just been. the fear in your chest still hadn’t fully settled, adrenaline buzzing through your limbs, but you forced yourself to focus.

felix let out a low groan, dragging a hand down his face before resting it over his ribs. his brows furrowed, and his fingers hovered just above the spot where he’d been stung, like he was afraid to touch it.

you swallowed hard. “let me see.”

he hesitated, his jaw clenching as if debating whether to brush you off. but then he exhaled, his shoulders sinking just slightly. without a word, he moved his hand away.

your stomach flipped.

a long, angry welt stretched across his ribs, already inflamed, the skin around it tinged a deep, irritated red. 

he huffed out a breath—something close to a laugh, but edged with pain. “you know… i heard pee helps with this.”

you groaned, rolling your eyes as you helped lower him onto the dry sand. “felix, i swear—”

“i’m just saying,” he muttered, wincing as he shifted. “if you really care about me…”

you shot him a look. “yeah, well, if you really cared about me, you wouldn’t make me consider peeing on you, you freak.”

that actually got a laugh out of him, even if it was short-lived. he exhaled through his nose, his head tipping back slightly. the skin was already swelling, the edges a blotchy pink.

your stomach twisted. “that looks like a jellyfish sting,” you murmured.

felix peeked down at it, nose scrunching. “yeah. feels like one too.”

you sighed, shaking your head. “you need something on that before it gets worse.”

he smirked again, though it was weaker this time. “not pee?”

you swatted his arm, unable to help the small smile tugging at your lips. "no, you idiot. get up."

felix groaned dramatically but obeyed, pushing himself up onto his feet with a wince. “yes, ma’am,” he muttered, shaking his head as if this was all your problem to deal with. you rolled your eyes and reached for his arm to steady him, but he shot you a lopsided grin. “good thing i have an expert with me,” he said, his voice teasing despite the pain laced through it. “since, you know… you’ve had experience getting bitten by snakes.”

you blinked at him. “you mean, when i was six?”

he shrugged, barely suppressing a smirk. “still counts.”

you gawked at him for a second before groaning, dragging a hand down your face. “that was forever ago.”

“yeah, but you lived to tell the tale.” he gestured vaguely. “so i trust your survival skills.”

you shot him a flat look. “felix, i cried so hard i passed out.”

felix sighed, rolling his shoulders as if trying to shake off the pain. “well, let’s hope i don’t,” he muttered, stepping toward the water.

he exhaled through his nose, glancing down at the angry red welt on his ribs. without another word, he crouched by the water, scooping some up in his hands and splashing it over the sting.

the reaction was immediate. his body tensed, shoulders going stiff as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. he turned his head away from you, like if he didn’t meet your eyes, he could somehow downplay just how much it hurt.

you noticed. the way his jaw clenched, the way his fingers flexed slightly in the sand, like he was trying so hard not to let it show. your eyebrows furrowed, a pang of sympathy tugging at your chest.

felix inhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders before pushing himself to his feet. “alright,” he said, shaking his hands free of water, forcing a smile. “i treat it properly when we get home.”

you let out a quiet sigh, watching him for a second. before he could step away, you reached up, fingers brushing through the damp strands of his hair. felix blinked, caught off guard, but he didn’t move—just let you smooth his hair back, let you touch him with that soft kind of affection that neither of you really put into words.

and then, still holding his gaze, you brought his head down, just enough to press a gentle kiss against his forehead.

felix stilled.

for a moment, he didn’t say anything, just hovered there, his breath fanning against your cheek. then, his lips curved into something small, something softer than his usual teasing smirk.

“i should get injured more often,”

day 8 - 13:00

the walk back to the beach house had been longer than expected, weaving through uneven terrain and jagged rocks, but felix had been a trooper. he never once complained, just pressed on with that quiet determination of his, even when the occasional wince betrayed the sting in his skin. you had kept an eye on him the whole way, noting every subtle twitch, every sharp inhale he tried to mask.

once inside, you wasted no time grabbing the first-aid kit. the both of you settled in the bathroom, the air warm and still, the only sounds being the soft rustle of bandages and the occasional hiss of breath when you worked out the small, stubborn stings that had lodged in his skin. 

now, felix was sprawled on the couch, one arm draped lazily over his stomach, the other resting against the back of the couch. his shirt was slightly lifted, revealing the fresh bandages across his ribs—proof of the careful tending you'd just finished.

you walked over to him, the small bottle of advil in your hand rattling softly. felix barely moved at first, his eyes half-lidded, heavy with exhaustion, but when he caught sight of you, a slow, lazy smile tugged at his lips.

“thanks, baby,” he murmured, voice low and a little rough from fatigue. he reached up, taking the bottle from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting second before he unscrewed the cap. he grabbed the glass of water you’d already set nearby and popped a couple of pills into his mouth, swallowing them down in one motion.

you watched him for a moment, the way his throat bobbed, the way his shoulders finally seemed to lose some of their earlier tension. when he was done, he let out a slow exhale and—without hesitation—leaned into you, his head settling against your shoulder like it was second nature.

you let out a quiet breath, your fingers absentmindedly brushing over the sleeve of his shirt. felix was warm against you, solid, but you couldn’t shake the worry still curling in your chest. you glanced down, eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, the way his lips parted slightly as he settled deeper into your touch.

you hesitated, voice softer now. “i wish i could take your pain away.”

felix hummed, the sound low and lazy, before shifting just enough to look at you properly. 

“you could kiss me better,” he said simply, tilting his head, offering up his injured side like some kind of invitation.

a soft laugh escaped you, despite yourself, despite the lingering worry in your chest. typical. he could be bruised and aching, and he’d still find a way to make you smile.

shaking your head with a small smile, you leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just above the bandage on his ribs. your lips barely brushed his skin, gentle and careful. felix let out a slow exhale, his eyes slipping shut for a brief moment before he shifted, tilting his face toward yours.

“i love you,” he murmured, voice quiet but certain.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your fingers instinctively smoothing over his arm, tracing slow circles against his skin.

felix smiled then, small and easy, before his eyes flicked open again, mischief creeping in at the edges. “do you remember what we were doing before those landscapers interrupted us?”

your breath hitched—just slightly. a slow, creeping heat worked its way up your neck, and you swallowed, hard.

your throat went dry. “of course,” you admitted, voice a little quieter now. you did remember—very clearly.

felix let out a slow breath, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested against your leg, like he was thinking about reaching for you but wasn’t sure if he should. “then,” he murmured, “we shouldn’t leave that hanging. should we?”

your pulse stuttered.

his eyes searched yours, open and wanting, his fingers finally curling against your skin like he needed the contact, like he needed you.

“felix,” you murmured, hesitating. “you’re injured.”

he swallowed, his hand tightening just slightly. “i know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “but this could help me take my mind off it.”

your heart did an embarrassing little flip, your resolve slipping faster than you’d like to admit. and judging by the way felix was looking at you—like he knew exactly what he was doing—you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon.your fingers tightened slightly where they rested against his arm. “you’re crazy,” you murmured, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

felix only grinned, shifting just enough to nudge his knee against yours. “am i?” 

you exhaled slowly, willing your pulse to stay steady, even as he tilted his head, watching you with those half-lidded, unreadable eyes. he wasn’t in any hurry. he had all the time in the world, and he knew you’d get there eventually.

still, you hesitated, fingers trailing absentmindedly along the band of his sweatpants, playing with the fabric. “what is it that you want, then?”

felix’s breath hitched, his fingers twitching where they rested against your leg before sliding just a little higher—not pushing, not demanding, just searching for more. his grip tightened, like he needed something to hold onto. “something slow.”

your breath caught.

felix’s lips twitched, like he’d noticed. “something that won’t, you know—” he gestured vaguely toward his bandaged ribs. “break me in half.”

you let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “that’s not reassuring.”

felix shifted then, his touch drifting, his fingers brushing against your hip in a way that sent heat licking up your spine. his voice was lower when he spoke again, quieter, like it was something just for you.

“i just want to feel you,” he murmured.

your pulse jumped.

felix’s fingers flexed, just slightly, against your hip. “i don’t need much,” he said, and there was something slow, lazy, and entirely deliberate in the way his voice curled around the words. “just a little…” his knee nudged against yours again. “pressure.”

a warmth spread through your chest—hot, insistent, impossible to ignore.

felix leaned in, his nose brushing against your jaw, his lips just barely grazing your skin as he murmured, “just like the other morning. is that okay?”

it was ridiculous, really, how easily he unraveled you. how one look, one shift of his fingers against your skin, could turn your thoughts to static.

because you wanted him. you wanted what you had that morning two days ago, the way he had kissed you, touched you—unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you. you remembered how he looked at you afterward, like you were something worth worshipping, like he had never wanted anything more.

and now? now you knew he loved you. now, that pull toward him was even deeper, twisting into something undeniable, something you didn’t even want to fight.

your fingers curled slightly against his arm, your body already leaning into his without a second thought. the way he was looking at you, lazy and knowing, sent another wave of heat down your spine. you wanted him, wanted to close the space between you, to press against him and get lost in the feeling of him.

but he was injured.

you forced yourself to breathe, to ground yourself in the rise and fall of his chest against your side. his body was warm, solid, but there was still a soreness lingering in the way he moved, a tension in his muscles that told you he wasn’t fully okay yet. and as much as you wanted him, as much as you ached for the weight of him over you, you weren’t about to let him push himself just to prove a point.

but you had an idea.

your fingers traced light patterns over his arm before drifting lower, a slow, intentional path. felix’s breath hitched, just slightly, and you felt the subtle shift in his body—his muscles tensing, then relaxing under your touch.

“while you relax,” you murmured, voice soft but certain. “i’ll take care of it.”

your fingers traced along his forearm, featherlight, teasing, just enough to make him twitch beneath your touch. he was watching you, his gaze dark and lidded, but there was a flicker of surprise when you slid your hand further down, fingertips brushing just above the waistband of his sweatpants. his breath stilled.

“that’s not what i meant,” felix murmured, voice thick, but there was no protest in it. just curiosity, a slow-building heat.

you hummed, tilting your head slightly as your hand skimmed lower, playing with the edge of the fabric, slipping just beneath—just enough to feel the heat of his skin. "i know," you admitted, voice soft but certain. "but this way, you won’t have to do anything. you can just relax.”

felix’s lips parted slightly, his breath coming just a little faster now. his grip on your thigh flexed, then released, like he was fighting the urge to pull you closer. he swallowed hard, his voice quieter when he finally spoke again. “are you sure?”

your pulse jumped, but you didn’t hesitate. your hand pressed more firmly against him, the heat of him unmistakable even through the fabric of his sweatpants. “yes, felix.”

felix exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching against your skin before he finally let himself relax, sinking back against the pillows with a slow, measured breath. his eyes stayed locked onto yours, watching you, waiting. trusting.

and that—god, that—was what made the heat in your stomach coil tighter. because felix could be so damn cocky, so effortlessly teasing, always knowing exactly what to say to make you weak. but right now, with you, he wasn’t playing a game. he was just looking at you like he wanted you, like he needed you, like he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him because he knew you wanted this just as much as he did.

your fingers traced over him again, slow, deliberate, pressing just a little more firmly this time. felix let out a quiet breath, his body tensing for just a second before melting into the sensation. his head tipped back against the pillow, exposing the long line of his throat, and something about that—about the way he gave in so easily, trusting you, wanting you—made your own breath catch.

your grip tightened just slightly, the slow, deliberate drag of your touch making felix’s breath hitch, his entire body tensing beneath your hands. you felt it—the way his muscles tightened, his fingers flexing against your thigh, his breath stuttering like he was holding himself back from something.

“relax, felix,” you murmured, voice softer now, coaxing, a quiet command wrapped in warmth.

a strangled sort of laugh left him, breathless and wrecked, his head tipping forward so his forehead nearly brushed yours. his eyes were dark, hazy with something he wasn’t bothering to hide anymore. “i can’t,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

something about the way he said it—like he was unraveling beneath your touch and there was nothing he could do to stop it—sent a fresh wave of heat through you, made your own breath come a little quicker.

felix’s hand curled against your thigh, gripping, grounding himself. “you don’t—” he exhaled sharply, his lips parting, like he was trying to string together a thought but kept losing it. “you don’t know what you do to me.”

you swallowed, your pulse skipping, because you felt it. felt the way he was barely holding himself together, felt the way his body reacted to every little touch. his breath was hot, uneven, his body taut beneath your touch, his entire being folding under the weight of whatever this was—whatever you were doing to him.

and then, in a breathless, wrecked whisper, he said it.

“i fuckin’ love you.”

your fingers tightened instinctively, the weight of his words sinking into you as heat curled low in your stomach. you felt him twitch under your palm, his body jerking slightly at the firm press of your hand, and gosh, the sound that spilled from his lips—a choked-off breath, a quiet groan, barely restrained—made you want to push him further, drag more of those noises out of him.

felix’s breath stuttered, his hips shifting just slightly, like he was trying to stay still, like he was trying not to fuck into your hand. but then you squeezed—slow, deliberate, feeling the solid heat of him through the fabric—and his entire body tensed. his fingers dug into your thigh, his grip tightening like he was holding onto you for dear life, and then he exhaled, sharp and shaky, his head tilting back against the couch.

“fuck,” he breathed, voice wrecked, like you had just knocked the air out of his lungs.

you stroked again, this time firmer, dragging your palm over him in a slow, deliberate motion, feeling every inch of him, the way he throbbed under your touch, the way his body responded instantly. the sweatpants did little to dull the sensation—he was hot and hard beneath the thin fabric, and when you squeezed again, when your fingers traced the outline of him, pressing just enough to feel him twitch against your palm, he groaned, low and needy.

his jaw went slack, lips parted, breath uneven, and you could see it—how bad he wanted this, how much he needed it.

you didn’t stop. you kept working him, your hand steady, your strokes unhurried but firm, dragging up from the base with just the right amount of pressure, and he fucking melted. his breath came quicker, his shoulders tightening, and then he let out a low, shaky curse, his head tilting back against the couch.

his voice was hoarse when he spoke again, barely held together. “i’m not gonna last if you—” he cut himself off with a sharp inhale, his stomach tensing beneath your touch.

you kept your grip steady, your fingers tightening just enough to make his breath hitch. the way his body responded to every stroke, every slow, deliberate squeeze, sent a hot thrill through you. his hips twitched, his jaw went slack, and the muscles in his stomach tightened with every movement of your hand.

felix sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers twitching where they gripped your thigh. he was so warm, so solid beneath your touch, and fuck, the way he was falling apart for you made your pulse stutter, made your own breath come a little quicker. his head tipped back, exposing the long line of his throat, and god, he looked wrecked—lips parted, eyes half-lidded, lost in the sensation.

you let out a soft hum, tilting your head as your fingers slowed, teasing now, just enough to make him whimper—fucking whimper—before you pulled back slightly. his hips lifted instinctively, chasing your touch, and the frustration in his expression sent another wave of heat down your spine.

his breath came faster now, rough and uneven, and his grip on your thigh tightened as his eyes fluttered open, dark and dazed. he blinked up at you, his brows drawn, like he couldn’t understand why you had stopped.

a slow smirk curled at your lips. “felix,” you murmured, letting your hand rest just over him, barely applying pressure now. his body tensed beneath you, his thighs twitching, like he was fighting the urge to move, to beg. “do you want me to really touch you?”

his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a second, he didn’t answer—just swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, his fingers flexing against your leg.

then, slowly, he nodded. “god yes.”

his voice was low, wrecked, raw with need. it sent a shiver through you, made your own body thrum with anticipation. but you didn’t move just yet. you watched him, drinking in the way he looked up at you—open, wanting, completely at your mercy.

“do you want me to touch you properly, felix?”

the muscles in his stomach clenched, his grip on your thigh tightening as if that was the only thing keeping him grounded. his jaw worked, lips parting like he wanted to speak, but all that came out was a shaky exhale. and then, finally, his voice—wrecked, breathless, desperate.

“yes, y/n. please.”

something about the way he said your name—soft, needy, like a prayer and a plea all at once—made heat coil low in your stomach. your smirk deepened, slow and wicked, and you dragged your fingers down to the waistband of his sweats, teasing the fabric between your fingertips. his hips twitched, his breath catching as anticipation crackled between you like static.

you took your time, hooking your fingers into the band, dragging it down—slow, excruciatingly slow—watching the way his cock strained against the thin cotton of his boxers. your mouth went dry, your breath hitching slightly despite yourself, because fuck—he was big.

the shape of him was thick, the fabric barely containing the way he twitched, aching for relief. you could see the way he pulsed against it, the way a damp spot had already formed at the tip, his arousal leaking through. felix let out a choked noise when you traced a single teasing finger along the outline of him, dragging from the base to the tip, feeling the heat of him through the barrier of dark fabric. his hips bucked slightly into your touch, and his hands flexed, like he was fighting the urge to grab you, to pull you closer.

“god,” you murmured, voice hushed, almost to yourself. “you’re…” you trailed off, shaking your head slightly, biting your lip as you finally—finally—slipped your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down.

his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, flushed a deep, needy red, the head slick with precum. it twitched under your gaze, the length of him standing proud, veined, leaking, like he’d been aching for this for so, so long. a shiver ran through you, heat pooling low in your belly as your thighs clenched involuntarily.

felix sucked in a sharp breath, his head tipping back against the couch, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “fuck,” he groaned, his voice a wrecked rasp. “fuck, y/n…”

you swallowed, eyes fixed on the way his cock throbbed in the cool air, aching for your touch. your fingers ghosted over the thick length, barely brushing, and he jolted, a low, helpless sound escaping him.

you wrapped your fingers around him, the heat of him burning against your palm, solid and thick, so much more than you had imagined. he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his thighs twitching under your touch.

you gave a slow, experimental stroke, dragging your hand from the base to the tip, feeling the way he pulsed under your palm, the way he leaked against your fingers. felix let out a shaky moan, his hips jerking slightly, like he couldn’t help it.

your grip tightened just slightly as you dragged your hand down again, taking your time, feeling the weight of him, the smooth, velvety skin stretched over iron-hard arousal. he was perfect—thick enough that your fingers didn’t quite close around him, the veins along his shaft pulsing as you traced them with a featherlight touch. his cock twitched in your grip, leaking more, smearing slick warmth over your fingers.

you had never seen anything like this before. had never touched anyone like this before. and yet, here you were, wrapped around your boyfriend’s cock, watching it throb in your grip, slick with his need.

a part of you couldn’t believe this was happening. another part of you never wanted to stop.

his gaze flicked down to where your fingers were wrapped around him, where his cock throbbed against your palm, slick with precum. “so this is what people do when they have no parents around for the week, huh?”

your stomach clenched. the weight of his words, the reality of the situation, sent a fresh wave of arousal rolling through you. his parents were gone. it was just the two of you, no one to walk in, no one to hear, no one to stop this from going further.

and everyone you knew—everyone you had ever talked to about your relationship—had assumed it was the first thing you two would do this week.

you swallowed hard, your strokes slowing as the thought settled in your mind.

your grip tightened, slick fingers gliding faster over his throbbing cock, and felix shuddered beneath you, a wrecked, desperate sound spilling from his lips. his hips jerked up into your touch, chasing the friction, chasing you. his breath came in sharp gasps, chest rising and falling unevenly, hands twitching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to grab onto you or let himself unravel.

“fuck,” he panted, voice breaking, raw with need. “fuck, i’m—”

you cut him off by leaning in, pressing your mouth to his, swallowing the rest of his words. he moaned into the kiss, high and breathless, the sound vibrating against your lips as his whole body trembled under you. his cock throbbed in your hand, leaking slick, twitching with every firm stroke. he tried to hold himself back, tried to keep from losing it too soon, but he was falling apart, and he knew it.

“i’m not—shit—i’m not gonna last,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut like he couldn’t bear how close he was. “i—fuck, fuck—”

he was babbling, barely coherent, his body tight with tension, his abs flexing with every shaky breath. you watched his face, his brows furrowed, his lips parted, his whole expression one of pure, unfiltered pleasure. 

and it scared you. just for a second.

felix noticed. even through the haze of his impending orgasm, he noticed the hesitation in your touch, the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. his lashes fluttered as he cracked his eyes open, pupils blown wide and dark with lust, but there was something softer there too—something grounding.

he exhaled shakily, then covered your hand with his, guiding you. his fingers laced with yours, showing you the rhythm, the grip, the pace he needed. his breath stuttered, hips stuttering up into your joined hands, and he groaned again, deep and wrecked.

“just like that,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “just—yeah, fuck, just like that—”

you leaned in, lips brushing against the curve of his neck, breathing him in—warm skin, sweat, the faintest trace of cologne. his pulse pounded beneath your mouth, a frantic, needy rhythm that matched the way his hips jerked under your joined hands.

felix let out a groan, deep and broken, his fingers tightening over yours as if to anchor himself. his body trembled, every muscle going taut, his breath hitching on a sharp inhale. you pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his throat, feeling the vibrations of his next moan as it tore from his lips.

"fuck—" his voice cracked, desperate, wrecked. his cock throbbed in your grip, twitching violently.

before you knew it, thick, hot ropes of white spilled onto his stomach, streaking his skin, each pulse met with a shuddering gasp. his whole body tensing, fingers digging into yours as if he couldn’t handle the intensity alone. you kept stroking him, slower now, working him through it, feeling every pulse, every aftershock.

felix let out a strangled whimper, hips twitching, oversensitive but unwilling to let go of your hand just yet. his head fell back against the couch, chest heaving, skin flushed and damp with sweat. his lashes fluttered, his lips parted, completely undone beneath you.

felix let out a breathy laugh, his body still twitching with the aftershocks, and murmured, "my goodness…" his voice was hoarse and it made something warm curl low in your stomach.

you kissed him before he could say anything else, soft and slow, tasting his lingering gasps on your tongue. he melted into it, groaning lightly as he kissed you back, his lips parting under yours, lazy and pliant, like he was still coming down from the high.

when you finally pulled away, you brushed your nose against his and murmured, "you feel better?"

he blinked, dazed, then dropped his gaze down to his stomach, where his release streaked his skin, before shifting slightly, wincing. his eyes flickered toward his side, the sting of his injury grounding him again. you followed his gaze, fingers ghosting over the spot instinctively.

“honestly, i forgot about it.” he grinned sheepishly. his thumb brushed lightly over your skin, and his voice was softer this time, lower. "thank you, baby."

day 8 - 15:00

the door to the beach house clicked shut behind you, the sound oddly final as you both stepped forward onto the road. something made you turn back, eyes trailing over the familiar windows, the sand-dusted porch, the memories woven into every inch of the place.

“you’re gonna miss this beautiful home,” you murmured, taking it all in. “and all the stuff that happened in it… and behind it.”

felix glanced at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

just then, a seagull soared overhead, its wings cutting through the blue, like it had just launched from the rooftop. your gaze followed it before a thought struck you, your eyes flicking back to felix.

“let’s go see it?” you asked, tilting your head toward the house.

felix nodded. “yeah, let’s go.”

you both made your way around the back, where the slanted roof was just within reach. the nest had been there for days, nestled in a spot just out of sight from the ground. felix stopped beneath it and looked at you with an all-too-familiar glint in his eyes.

“hop on,” he said, crouching slightly.

you hesitated, eyeing his injured side. “felix—”

“i got it,” he cut in, already holding his hands out to steady you.

you sighed, but there was no real fight left in you. carefully, you placed your hands on his shoulders before swinging a leg over, trying not to think too hard about the fact that his grip on your waist was firm, steady. he lifted you with ease, and as you straightened, your head finally peeked over the edge of the roof.

and there it was—the nest, barely held together by twigs and bits of seaweed, cradling one tiny, wrinkled, pink bird. it was ugly in the most endearing way, its barely-there fuzz shifting as it moved.

you gasped, a soft coo escaping your lips.

“what is it?” felix asked from below, trying to look up without tipping you over.

still balancing on his shoulders, you fumbled in your pocket for the small digital camera you’d been carrying around. you lifted it, fingers quick as you framed the moment, the lens capturing the fragile little thing in all its awkward glory before clicking the shutter.

you brought the camera down, grinning as you glanced at the tiny screen. felix craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse.

“oh my gosh,” he blurted, eyes wide as he finally saw the picture. “it looks so ill.”

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “i think that’s just how they’re supposed to look.” you glanced back at the nest, then at him, still giggling. “not everyone’s born cute, you know.”

felix made a face, amused. “that’s… reassuring.”

still balanced on his shoulders, you snapped a few more photos from different angles, capturing the little bird’s ugly charm. felix stayed steady beneath you, his hands secure at your shins, making sure you didn’t wobble too much.

“okay,” you finally said, slipping the camera back into your pocket. “i think i got enough.”

felix hummed. “alright, down you go.”

slowly, his hands slid to your waist, fingers curling gently as he helped guide you down. he lowered you with ease, making sure your feet were firmly on the ground before letting go.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

you nodded, smiling up at him. “yeah. you’re a very reliable ladder.”

felix grinned, scrunching his nose. “anytime.”

as you stepped away from the house, the moment still lingered between you, like the warmth of the sun clinging to your skin. felix walked beside you, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest second before he pulled away, reaching for your suitcase.

you sighed, reaching for the handle. “you’re hurt. give it to me.”

he held it tighter, grinning like he wasn’t wincing slightly. “this is nothing. i got it.”

“no, you don’t.” you stopped walking, crossing your arms. 

felix huffed, but when he saw the dead-serious look on your face, he relented, letting you take the handle from him. “you’re so stubborn,” he mumbled.

“says you,” you shot back, adjusting your grip on the luggage.

the bus stop was just ahead, the blue sign swaying slightly with the breeze. you pulled your bag over your shoulder, the weight of it grounding you. felix glanced at you, then back ahead, kicking a stray rock with the toe of his shoe.

“so, how long are you alone for?” you asked.

“my parents come back tomorrow morning,” he said, stretching his arms above his head. “we’ll be here for two days after that, and then i’m heading back to sydney.”

you nodded, lips pressing together. 

felix exhaled softly. “i’m gonna miss you.”

you blinked at him, tilting your head. “felix, it’s only a couple days.”

“still,” he said, bumping your arm with his. “i mean, i had so much fun.”

you smiled, nudging him back. “me too.”

and you really, really meant it.

the two of you kept walking, the bus stop coming into view at the end of the street. the air between you felt light, but there was still something lingering—like neither of you really wanted this walk to end just yet.

felix glanced over at you, a lazy smile playing at his lips. “so,” he started, swinging your suitcase slightly as he rolled it along. “what was really your favorite part of the trip?”

you let out a small chuckle, remembering the last time he’d asked you that. things had been different then—tense, uncertain, like you were both walking on eggshells around each other. now, it felt easy. natural.

still, you decided to mess with him. you tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to think. “mmm… definitely bleeding in the middle of the ocean.”

felix let out a loud laugh, his head tipping back. “oh my god,” he wheezed. “that was horrifying.”

you grinned, shrugging. “hey, at least it was eventful.”

“i swear i thought you were about to be shark food,” he said, shaking his head. 

“oh, i loved that night on the yacht when i started drinking,” you said suddenly, a teasing lilt in your voice.

felix groaned dramatically, running a hand down his face. “oh gosh, i’m a terrible influence. what am i doing to you?”

you laughed, bumping his arm. “relax.”

“no, seriously.” he shook his head, feigning horror. “your parents leave you with me for one week, and when you come back, they find out their daughter’s boyfriend let her drink?”

you raised an eyebrow. “well, technically, you weren’t even there when i started drinking.”

felix threw his hands up. “still!”

you giggled, watching the way he genuinely looked like he was rethinking every life choice. “felix, i wouldn’t worry about it.”

he gave you a side-eye, lips twitching. “mmm… i feel like you just saying that isn’t super reassuring.”

you grinned, shrugging. “guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

felix sighed, shaking his head like he was suffering. “great. now i have that on my conscience forever.”

“oh, please,” you teased. “we've done way worse.”

he gasped. “like what?”

you smirked. “i’m keeping a list.”

felix groaned again, but he was smiling because he knew what this was about.

by the time you reached the bus stop, the bus was already there, idling at the curb with its doors open, passengers filing in one by one. you hadn’t realized how much time you’d spent by the bird’s nest, how easily you’d gotten caught up in just being with felix. now, standing in line with him beside you, it was sinking in—this was goodbye, even if just for a little while.

you looked up at him, offering a small smile. “i'll see back in sydney?”

he nodded, but there was something reluctant about it, like it wasn’t really the distance that was bothering him. “and also back to school,” he muttered, face scrunching in dismay.

you chuckled, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “the real tragedy.”

felix huffed a soft laugh, but it faded quickly as he looked at you, his expression softening again. his fingers brushed against yours, like he wanted to hold onto you but wasn’t sure if he should. you took the decision out of his hands, shifting closer, voice dropping to something more sincere.

“i love you, felix,” you murmured. “thank you for letting me stay here.”

felix blinked, his lips parting slightly like he wanted to say something, but he just nodded instead. his throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, and then, before you could react, his arms were around you, pulling you into his chest.

you melted into him instantly, wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the way his heartbeat thudded against yours. he held you so tightly, like if he just held on long enough, maybe time would slow down, maybe this moment wouldn’t have to end so soon.

his breathing was shaky, his shoulders rising and falling unevenly, and it didn’t take much to realize he was holding back tears. felix had always been soft like that, felt things so deeply.

you pretended not to notice, just holding him closer, running a soothing hand along his back.

“i love you too,” he whispered, the words barely there, but you felt them more than anything.

and then, before you could even process it, he pulled back just enough to press a quick, fleeting kiss to your lips—warm and desperate, full of everything he wasn’t saying. it was over almost as soon as it started, but the feeling lingered, the taste of salt and sunlight and felix still on your lips as he pulled away.

you were at the front of the line now. the driver glanced at you expectantly, but you barely noticed, too caught in the way felix was still holding your hand, his grip firm but unwilling.

“be safe,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

you nodded, squeezing his fingers one last time before slowly pulling away. he let go like he didn’t want to, his hand lingering in the air for a second before he dropped it to his side.

you took a step forward onto the bus, glancing back at him one last time. he was still standing there, watching you with those soft, stormy eyes, lips pressed together like he was still trying not to let everything spill over.

you smiled gently. he smiled back.

inside the bus, you found a seat near the window, tucking your bag beside you as you settled in. the hum of the bus, the low murmur of other passengers, the faint smell of worn leather seats—it all felt strangely distant, like white noise in the background of something bigger, something heavier pressing against your chest.

the ride was only two hours.

it would go by fast if you just let yourself sleep.

with a soft sigh, you leaned your head against the window, watching as felix took a small step back from the curb. he was still there, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly slumped, staring at the bus like he could still see you through the tinted glass. for a second, you almost thought he could.

the ride was only two hours.

it would go by fast if you just let yourself sleep.

you had spent the last few minutes pretending it wasn’t that bad, pretending it didn’t hurt to leave. you told yourself it was only two days. that you’d see felix again soon, that sydney wasn’t that far, that it wasn’t a big deal.

but now, as the bus gave a slight lurch forward and the distance between you stretched just a little more, something in your chest twisted.

you swallowed thickly, blinking up at the ceiling to keep it at bay, but a single tear slipped down the outer corner of your eye, trailing along your temple before disappearing into your hair. you shut your eyes tightly, inhaling slow and deep, like that might help push the ache away.

it wasn’t just about felix.

sure, not seeing him, not being with him for even a few days felt like a weight you weren’t ready to carry. but it was more than that.

you were heading straight back to the unknown.

school. the pressure. the expectations. the scary parts of it all that made your stomach knot up when you thought too hard about them.

the bus picked up speed, the scenery shifting, the ocean slipping out of view, and you curled in on yourself just a little, hugging your arms as you pressed your forehead against the cool window.

and you were gonna miss this place. 

this place—this stretch of coastline, the beautiful home, the hammock beneath the shade of the trees—had become something special, because of him. it felt right to leave those words here, like they belonged in the air around you, woven into the sunlight and the sea breeze. love was in the air on the east coast.

and you had known that by now. you had felt it in the way people greeted each other in passing, always with a smile or a friendly wave. everyone seemed to know everyone else, as if the whole town was one big, extended family. it wasn’t just a place—it was a community, woven together by familiarity and kindness, where laughter drifted from front porches and children ran barefoot through the sand.

everywhere you looked, there was beauty—not just in the scenery but in the way life unfolded here, slow and steady, like the tides. the mornings brought soft fog rolling in over the water, afternoons sparkled under a brilliant sun, and evenings painted the horizon in shades of amber and violet.

felix had truly grown up in this world. not in sydney, with its bustling streets and endless noise, but here, in this quiet coastal haven. this was his home, not just because he lived here, but because it had shaped him. you could feel it in the way he moved, in the way he spoke about the sea and the sky, as though they weren’t just elements of nature but old friends. he carried the calm of the ocean within him, the steadiness of the earth beneath his feet, and the warmth of the sun in the way he smiled. he was like this place: quiet yet full of life, unassuming yet unforgettable.

this place had done something to you too. it changed the way you saw things, made you more present, more aware of life’s simplest joys. and as the horizon blurred in the distance, fading behind you, a bittersweet ache settled deep in your chest. you didn’t just love felix. you loved this world he had invited you into. it was his, and it had become a part of you.

you realized, as the wind carried the faint scent of salt and pine, that you were leaving more than just a place. you were leaving a feeling, a way of being, a piece of yourself you would carry forever. and you knew that even though you were moving forward, a part of you would always be here—where the ocean kissed the shore, where life moved slow and steady, where you first learned what it truly meant to love.

this summer would stay with you, etched into your soul like sunlight on water. the sights, the sounds, the way the air had felt heavy with promise—it would all come back to you in moments when you least expected it. and whenever you closed your eyes, you’d see it again: the endless stretch of beach, the way felix smiled at you beneath the dappled light, and the love that had taken root in your heart without you even realizing it.

you sighed, shifting in your seat as the road stretched endlessly ahead. the weight in your chest hadn’t lightened, but you forced yourself to breathe through it, to let the steady hum of the bus lull you into something close to peace.

then, almost instinctively, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone.

it had barely crossed your mind all week—not because you didn’t have it, but because you didn’t need it. there had been no urge to scroll mindlessly, no need to check for updates or messages, no impulse to fill the quiet with artificial noise. you had been there, completely and wholly, connected to everything around you—the ocean, the trees, the laughter, him.

but now, with nothing but miles of road ahead and the place you loved shrinking behind you, you unlocked the screen, feeling the strange disconnect settle in again.

then your phone vibrated.

your heart skipped a beat at the name flashing across the screen.

felix.

you barely hesitated before swiping to answer, bringing the phone up to your ear.

“hi, felix,” you murmured, a small smile already tugging at your lips.

“hi, y/n,” he sounded the same as he always did—gentle, warm, like summer.

you curled up against the window, eyes drifting over the trees blurring past. “miss me already?”

“shut up.”

this summer wasn’t just a season. it was a beginning. and you will always remember this summer.

[pixiefelixie]

guys i cant believe rts is almost over. i enjoyed writing it so much idk what i'm gonna do after this last chapter 😿😿

[pixiefelixie]

𓆝..°°𓈒 ⋆ (필릭스) : REMEMBER THIS SUMMER "SATURDAY"

𓆉 °°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ synopsis felix is living the summer every teenager dreams of, with a perfect beach house on the east coast of australia and an even more perfect girlfriend. by taking the best of both worlds, felix invites her to experience the world he grew up in to make this the best summer ever. amidst bonfires, romantic sunsets, and seagulls, felix has one goal this summer: to finally tell her he loves her. with just one week to do so, felix is met with a challenge to make his feelings known before time runs out. 

pairing: nonidol!felix x fem!reader, series warnings: felix + reader are intended to be 17-18, established relationship, fluff, suggestive themes!!, an erection happens but nothing more, making out important notes: The content of this work is purely fictional and is not intended to endorse or encourage any behavior, especially among minors, that may be deemed inappropriate or unsafe. This story is created solely for entertainment purposes and should be understood as fiction. Reader discretion is advised.

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chapter under the cut! ~14k words

day 7 - 9:00

felix was wrecked.

he woke up this morning just to see that your toothbrush had been removed from the holder—the one that had sat right beside his for the past week, like it belonged there. like you belonged there. but now, the empty space mocked him, stark and glaring.

everything was a reminder that you were leaving. your suitcase, now zipped up and sitting neatly by your door, almost ready to go. the way you had returned the borrowed hoodie he had given you on the first night, folded too perfectly, as if trying to erase the fact that you had ever worn it.

the weight in felix’s chest hadn’t lifted since the moment he woke up—it only grew heavier with every little thing that reminded him you were leaving. it was stupid, maybe. you weren’t gone yet. you were still here, still breathing the same air as him, still close enough that he could reach out and touch you. but what did that matter when you were already slipping away?

the ceramic cup felt cold in your hands as you rinsed away the last traces of coffee, watching the water swirl down the drain. you took your time, drying it off carefully before placing it back in the cupboard—exactly where it belonged, exactly where felix would expect to find it tomorrow. the thought made your chest tighten. tomorrow. you wouldn’t be here tomorrow.

you exhaled slowly, pressing your palm against the counter to steady yourself. you’d spent the morning moving quietly, tucking things away, making sure you left no mess behind. 

your eyes drifted to the window. beyond the glass, the ocean stretched endlessly, its surface shimmering under the late morning sun. the tide had pulled back, exposing damp sand and scattered shells. you knew exactly where felix was, even if you couldn’t see him. the wooden steps leading down to the beach blocked your view, but you could picture him there—sitting alone by the water, head tilted toward the waves.

you sighed.

for a moment, you let yourself hesitate, fingers gripping the edge of the sink. a part of you wanted to stay inside, let the minutes slip away until it was too late to talk, too late to say anything at all. maybe it would be easier if you just left. if you let this ending remain unspoken, unfinished. but that wasn’t fair—to you, to him.

so you forced yourself to move.

the screen door creaked softly as you stepped outside, the warm breeze brushing against your skin. the wooden steps felt solid beneath your feet, each one carrying you closer to the inevitable.

felix didn’t turn when you reached the bottom. he just stood there, watching the waves roll in and out, his shoulders tense.

you swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step forward.

“felix,” you said, barely above a whisper.

he didn’t move at first, but you saw the way his back stiffened, the way his fingers curled into fists at his sides. and when he finally turned to look at you, his eyes were already filled with something you couldn’t bear to name.

"hey," he said, voice quiet but steady. he patted the sand beside him, an invitation.

you hesitated. just for a second. but then you moved, sinking down beside him. the sand was cool beneath your hands, grains slipping through your fingers as you exhaled slowly.

it all felt off. normally, if you and felix were sitting by this beach, you’d be leaning into him—your head on his shoulder, his arm lazily slung around your waist. normally, the space between you didn’t exist.

but now, there was a thick wall between you, invisible but unbreakable.

felix turned his head slightly, his gaze settling on you. you felt it—the quiet weight of it, the way he was searching for something in your expression. maybe he was looking for reassurance. maybe he already knew what was coming.

you couldn’t bear to look at him.

your throat tightened as you dropped your eyes to the sand, watching the fine grains slip through your fingers. your hands felt small, unsteady. you hated that. you hated feeling this fragile in front of him.

felix had always been able to read you too well. and now, sitting this close, you started to wonder if he noticed your red eyes—if he could see the exhaustion clinging to you, the proof of last night when you had buried your face in your pillow and cried so quietly it almost didn’t feel real.

you swallowed and forced yourself to say something.

"um."

it wasn’t much, but felix shifted slightly, angling his body toward you. he was listening. he always listened. 

you clenched your jaw, focusing on the sand in your hands, rubbing the grains between your fingers. then, finally, you forced the words out.

"i’ve been thinking about us," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "about what would happen when we get back to sydney."

felix didn’t dare to speak.

you could feel it—the way he held his breath, the way his fingers curled just a little tighter against his knees, like he was bracing for impact. maybe if he didn’t say anything, he could pretend for just a second longer that this conversation wasn’t happening. that everything was fine. that this wasn’t the moment everything changed.

but you weren’t going to let him pretend.

you swallowed, voice quieter now. “just… just know that you won’t have to treat me differently anymore. you won’t have to do the things you normally do for me. ”

felix’s brows furrowed slightly, but he still didn’t speak.

like walking me home from school.

like keeping an extra hair tie around his wrist because he knows i always lose mine.

like waiting for my goodnight text before going to sleep, even if i take too long to send it.

like looking at me the way he’s looking at me right now.

you couldn’t say all of that. your voice would break if you tried. so instead, you just let the words sit between you, like the ocean air was carrying them away.

felix shifted beside you, and for a second, it almost seemed like he was going to reach for you. like muscle memory was kicking in, like he was about to lace your fingers together, pull you closer, keep you there.

but he didn’t.

instead, he exhaled shakily, tilting his head up toward the sky, like it hurt too much to look at you. and maybe it did. 

felix’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke, but there was no mistaking the way it wavered, like he was barely holding it together.

“this is you breaking up with me, right?”

you inhaled sharply, fingers tightening around a handful of sand before letting it slip through your grasp. you looked at him then. really looked at him.

his eyes were still fixed on the sky, his jaw set, his lips pressed together like he was trying to keep himself from saying something else—something desperate, something that might make you stay. not only stay at the beach. but stay with him.

you sighed, staring down at your lap. your voice came out small, tired. “i mean… what else am i supposed to do, felix?”

felix went silent.

you swallowed, forcing yourself to keep going, even though every word felt like pressing on a bruise. "i told you last night that i loved you, and you didn’t say anything."

felix’s breath hitched just slightly, but he still didn’t look at you. his fingers curled into the sand beside him, gripping it like it could ground him, like it could hold him steady when everything else was slipping through his fingers.

you let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking your head. "and now, we’re sitting here, talking about breaking up, and you still won’t say anything."

nothing.

he just sat there, staring at the waves, like if he stayed quiet long enough, maybe the ocean would swallow this whole conversation and carry it away.

you exhaled, the sound shaky, defeated. "i get it. it’s uncomfortable for us to talk about."

you stared at him for a moment longer, waiting—hoping—for something. anything. a word. a reason. a fight. but felix stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the waves, his hands buried in the sand like he was trying to hold onto something that had already slipped away.

you exhaled, rubbing your palms over your jeans, trying to gather your thoughts. the silence between you had stretched too long, filled with everything left unsaid. maybe that was how it was always going to end—quietly, painfully, without answers.

you swallowed, gripping the fabric of your jeans between your fingers. "if i hadn’t said it… if i hadn’t told you i loved you last night… would it hurt this much to leave?"

felix blinked, taken aback. his jaw tensed. you saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard, saw the way his fingers twitched against the sand. 

you forced out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “would things have just been better if i hadn’t said anything?” your voice wavered, but you pushed through. 

felix’s brows knitted together, his mouth opening slightly like he wanted to stop you—but the words had already slipped out, and once they started, you couldn’t hold them back.

“maybe i should’ve just kept it to myself,” you whispered, your throat tightening with every word. “maybe then, we wouldn’t be—”

your voice caught, cracking mid-sentence. you sucked in a sharp breath, pressing a hand over your mouth as if you could physically stop the sob that threatened to break free.

felix moved before he could stop himself. his hand hovered over yours for a split second—hesitant, unsure—but when he saw the way your shoulders shook, the way you refused to meet his eyes, he gave in.

his fingers curled gently around your wrist, grounding, warm.

“don’t,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “don’t say that.”

you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “but it’s true, isn’t it?”

felix’s grip on your wrist tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to make you feel it. to make sure you knew he was still here.

but it wasn’t enough.

you let out a shaky breath, your voice breaking as you pushed forward. “if you’re gonna deny it, then just—just tell me.”

felix inhaled sharply, but he didn’t speak. he just stared at you, his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat.

you swallowed, chest rising and falling unevenly. “tell me that all you’ve done for me is for a reason,” you whispered. “tell me that yesterday morning wasn’t a mistake.”

his breath hitched.

your voice was barely more than a plea now. “tell me that you actually feel something for me. that this isn’t just—just habit, or guilt, or whatever else.” you exhaled, your grip tightening in your lap. “tell me, and i’ll stay. i won’t go home today.”

felix’s silence was the loudest thing you had ever heard.

you could see it—his struggle, the war in his eyes, the way his fingers trembled slightly even as he held onto you. and for a second, just a second, you let yourself hope. hope that maybe, maybe he’d say something that would make you stay.

but then, he exhaled, long and shaky, and his grip on your wrist loosened before he finally let go.

the absence of his touch was immediate, leaving behind nothing but cold air and an ache that settled deep in your bones.

felix ran a hand through his hair, tilting his head back toward the sky, like he was trying to find the right words. or maybe just the least painful ones. but when he finally spoke, his voice was eerily calm, steady in a way that made your stomach twist.

he hesitated, just for a second. “i don’t love you. i can’t.”

your breath caught.

he didn’t even give you time to react before he kept going, each word cutting deeper than the last.

“i never did.”

the wind howled around you, the waves crashing against the shore, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heart shattering in your chest.

felix just stared at you, his expression unreadable. “you need something from me that i can’t give. you need that commitment. i was never going to be that guy for you.” 

you swayed slightly where you sat, like the weight of his words was physically knocking the air out of you.

the way he said it—so detached, so certain—made your stomach twist.

every moment you had shared, every soft touch, every lingering glance—had it all been a lie?

your lips parted, but nothing came out.

felix sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, glancing away as if this conversation was nothing more than an inconvenience to him. “i don’t know what else you want me to say, y/n. i didn’t ask for this. i didn’t ask for you to fall in love with me.” he shook his head. “i was just trying to have fun. i never meant to lead you on. we weren’t supposed to be this serious”

the words knocked the air from your lungs.

felix didn’t flinch. “so if you can’t take it, go home, y/n,” he said, his voice cool, final. “go home and forget about me.”

you inhaled shakily, willing yourself not to cry again, not in front of him. but you could already feel the sting in your eyes, the lump in your throat, the way your body fought against the truth he was handing you so easily.

your relationship wasn’t real to felix.

and you were foolish to think that it ever was.

your lips parted, but no sound came out. there was nothing left to say, nothing you could say that wouldn’t make this worse.

and that was it.

no fight. no hesitation. no apology.

you forced yourself to move. slowly, you stood up, brushing the sand off your palms, off the back of your shorts. 

you cleared your throat, forcing your voice to stay even. “i’m taking the 3:15 bus.”

felix’s shoulders stiffened. but all he did was nod.

and somehow, that was worse than anything he could have said.

day 7 - 12:00

“if you’d told me you two were broken up before you called me to surf, i wouldn't have come,” chris said, his tone sharp as he glanced at felix.

felix’s jaw tightened, frustration bubbling up. “i didn’t call you to talk about it, man. i called you to get out of my head for a bit.”

chris scoffed, shaking his head. “and running away from it is really helping, huh?”

felix didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the horizon, trying to push everything—you, the conversation, the mess—out of his mind. but chris wasn’t letting up.

chris let out a dry laugh. “you know, i get not wanting to deal with it, but pretending it’s not there isn’t gonna fix anything.”

felix didn’t respond. he didn’t want to talk about this—not now, not when the weight of this morning was still pressing down on him like a stone in his chest.

chris studied him for a moment, then sighed. “look, i’m not saying you have to fix it right this second, but you can’t just act like you’re fine either. you’ve been all over the place these last few days.” chris continued, undeterred. 

felix exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip on his board. “i’m fine, chris. we broke it off, we understood each other. everything went smoothly.”

chris snorted.“yeah? that so?” he narrowed his eyes. “how could it have gone smoothly?”

felix hesitated, just for a second, but chris caught it.

“she must’ve fought for it,” chris pushed. “she wouldn’t have just let it go.”

felix’s fingers twitched against the fiberglass. his throat felt tight.

“it was not that complicated, chris.” he said, his voice almost too steady.

chris frowned. “bullshit.”

felix’s jaw clenched. he could feel chris’s stare boring into him, searching, waiting for him to crack.

then, finally, the words slipped out, quiet, forced.

“because i told her i didn’t love her. i told her i didn’t feel anything.”

chris’s expression froze.

felix admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “so she wouldn’t fight.”

chris let out a slow breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “felix.”

felix let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “i mean, what else was i supposed to do? stay silent again? get choked on my words like last night?” his grip on the board tightened. “i didn’t want to confuse her.”

chris stared at him like he didn’t even recognize him. “so you lied?”

felix didn’t answer.

chris took a step closer, his voice lower now, sharper. “felix, she believed in you. hell, she basically lost her virginity to you.” he let the words hang there, heavy, cutting. “that’s just so fucked. you can’t just do that.”

felix flinched, but chris wasn’t done.

“you don’t get to tell someone you don’t love them after that,” chris pressed. “not if it’s not true. not if—” he exhaled harshly, dragging a hand through his hair. “god, man. do you even realize what that must’ve done to her?”

felix stared at the ground, jaw tight.

“she trusted you,” chris went on. “you don’t think she deserved the truth?”

felix let out a slow breath, eyes still fixed on the sand. “the truth wouldn’t have made it any easier.”

chris scoffed. “for who? you or her? you think she’s better off hating you, don’t you?”

felix stiffened.

chris scoffed, shaking his head. “yeah, i figured. that’s the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard, by the way.”

felix’s grip tightened on his board, fingers pressing so hard against the fiberglass that they ached. “it’s done, chris.” his voice was flat. hollow. 

chris let out a short laugh, but there was no amusement in it. “yeah? is that why you’re out here, trying to drown yourself in waves that could snap your board in half?” he took a step closer. “if you really thought she was better off, you wouldn’t be acting like this.”

felix swallowed hard, his throat burning. he hated how easily chris saw through him. hated how he had to bite down on the instinct to defend himself—because chris was right.

chris hesitated, then said carefully, “and i told her, by the way. the other day.”

felix frowned, glancing over at him. “told her what?”

chris met his eyes. “that you love her.”

felix froze. his breath caught in his throat.

“you what?”

chris shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. “yeah, i told her.”

felix just stared at him, his entire body going stiff. “chris—why would you do that?” his voice was quieter now, but there was something raw in it, something close to panic. “she was probably expecting me to say it back then.” his voice was tight, forced. “don’t mess with things like this, man.”

chris narrowed his eyes. “mess with what? the truth?”

felix let out a humorless laugh, running a hand down his face. “you don’t just get to drop something like that on her.” his jaw clenched. “you don’t get to—” he stopped himself, his breath uneven.

“you really think she didn’t already know?” chris sighed. “she deserved to hear it, felix. even if it wasn’t from you.”

felix’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “you don’t get to decide that for me.” his voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it.

chris shook his head. “and you don’t get to lie to her just because you’re scared.”

felix’s throat burned. “like i said, it’s done,” he muttered, barely audible. “it doesn’t matter anymore.”

chris watched him for a long moment, then exhaled sharply. “yeah? tell that to yourself when you see her again.”

felix looked away, his jaw tight. his pulse was pounding in his ears.

“look,” chris said, his tone softer now. “you love her, yeah?”

felix exhaled slowly. “yeah,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“and you’re just gonna let her leave without knowing that?”

felix swallowed. he didn’t answer.

“i get it, man. it’s scary. saying it out loud makes it real, and that’s a lot. but… you already lost her by not saying it. what’s the worst that could happen if you just told her the truth?”

felix opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. his pulse raced. he did love her, and that terrified him. everything about it terrified him. 

“you think it’s easy? you think i want this? want to lose her like this?” felix’s voice was shaking, his chest tight with all the words he hadn’t been able to say. “it’s not that i don’t care. i do. i do. but how am i supposed to just... say it when i’m not even sure what i’m doing?”

chris held his gaze, steady and unwavering. “you still have time to fix this before she leaves, felix.” his voice was calm, but there was an urgency beneath it. “but just know—once she steps on that bus, it’s over.”

felix swallowed hard, his breath uneven. his fingers curled against his palms, the weight of chris’s words pressing down on him like a vice.

“i don’t—” he stopped, shaking his head. “i don’t even know what to say to her.”

chris huffed out a short, disbelieving laugh. “you do, felix. it’s the same three words you’ve been dying to let out.”

felix clenched his jaw, looking away.

chris ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “look, i’m not saying it’s gonna be easy. but you love her, man. and if you let her leave thinking you don’t, that’s on you.”

felix pressed his lips together, staring at the sand. his hands curled into fists, then slowly relaxed. chris didn’t push him any further. he just let the silence sit between them, letting felix sit with the truth of it.

felix shifted uncomfortably, his grip tightening on his surfboard. “look... you were right,” he muttered, barely above a whisper, like saying it aloud would make it even more real.

chris blinked, caught off guard. “what do you mean?”

felix exhaled sharply, staring down at the sand. his fingers drummed against the fiberglass of his board, restless, like he wanted to be anywhere but here. “you were right,” he repeated, a little firmer this time. “about all of it.”

chris raised an eyebrow. “about what?”

felix’s throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. he couldn’t say her name, not here, not now. every time he thought about it, it was like a knot in his chest—like something he couldn’t untangle. he wanted to say something, to explain, but the words just wouldn’t come. he clenched his jaw and shook his head slightly. “you know,” he started, but his voice faltered. “the past person.”

chris blinked, his brows knitting together. then, after a beat, he let out a dry, disbelieving chuckle. “seriously? ‘the past person’?”

felix’s jaw was locked, his chest tight, and just the thought of saying her name—of letting it roll off his tongue—felt like shoving a knife into an old wound. chris’s mouth opened like he had something to say, but for once, he hesitated. he just watched felix, really watched him—the tension in his jaw, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides, the way his breath came just a little too fast, like the weight of this conversation was pressing down on his chest.

felix let out a slow, unsteady breath. “everything that happened… it’s still there. still sticking to me like it just happened yesterday.” his voice was rough, barely above a whisper. “i can’t shake it, chris. and you were right.” his throat tightened. “maybe she’s the reason i can’t do this.”

chris didn’t say anything right away. he just let the words sit there, heavy and unshakable. then, gently, he said, “felix… i’m sure y/n would understand if you just explained it to her.”

felix let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “and what exactly do you want me to say?” he turned to face chris fully now, his expression twisted. “what am i supposed to tell her, huh? ‘hey, baby, i sorta killed my verbally abusive ex, so now i can’t say i love you’—is that what you think i should tell her?” his voice cracked, something raw slipping through, but he didn’t care.

chris’s jaw tightened. “why do you still think you killed her, felix?” he spoke slowly, carefully, like he was trying to keep felix from running, from shutting down completely. “after i spent a whole damn year telling you that you didn’t?”

felix paused, the words hitting him harder than expected. “my bad,” he muttered, his voice tight. 

chris sighed, his expression softening, but there was still that firm edge to his voice. “you don’t have to tell her everything, not all at once.” he stepped closer, his tone steady, unwavering. “but you owe her the truth. that’s at least what she deserves.”

felix’s jaw clenched. he knew chris was right—of course he was right. but that didn’t make it any easier. the truth was a tangled mess inside him, all sharp edges and frayed ends, and the thought of putting it into words—of giving it power, of letting you see all the ugly, broken pieces of him—made his chest tighten with something close to panic.

chris must have seen it, because his voice softened even more. “felix, you love her.”

felix’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.

chris sighed. “so stop making decisions for her. let her decide if she still wants you after knowing the truth.”

felix shook his head, his grip tightening around his board like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. “she won’t stay, chris.” his voice was quiet, but firm—like he had already made peace with the inevitable. like he was bracing for impact before the crash even came.

chris exhaled, frustrated but patient. “felix, listen to me.” he stepped closer, waiting for felix to actually look at him. “she's not mabel.” the name alone made felix flinch, but chris didn’t stop. “she’s not going to treat you like that. you’re not going to scare her off by being honest with her.” his voice softened. “you’re just… too tangled up in the past to see it clearly right now.”

his words echoed in felix’s mind, and he couldn’t shake them. you’re not her. the more he thought about it, the more he realized how true that was. you weren’t mabel. you never had been. you hadn’t twisted his love into something toxic or used his vulnerabilities to manipulate him. you had always treated him with kindness, with respect, with an honesty that made him want to trust you—even when he was scared.

felix’s breath caught in his throat as he repeated the words in his head, over and over, trying to convince himself. 

you’re not her.

day 7 - 15:15

a few hours had passed, slipping through felix’s fingers faster than he could grasp. time had a cruel way of moving like that—too slow when you wanted to forget, too fast when you weren’t ready to say goodbye.

and now, here he was. standing at the bus stop with you, watching as the reality of your leaving settled into something solid, something unavoidable. your bags were packed, your whole life for the next stretch of time condensed into a few suitcases. he’d insisted on carrying them, even when you told him not to. maybe it was just an excuse to hold onto something of yours for a little longer.

his hands were full, but that wasn’t what was weighing him down. it was everything he hadn’t said. everything still sitting heavy in his chest, pressing against his ribs, waiting.

felix shifted his weight, his grip tightening around the handles of your suitcase. the silence between you stretched, thick and heavy, almost suffocating. the bus stop was quiet, but inside his head, everything was too loud. the words chris had drilled into him hours ago still echoed, reverberating against the walls of his mind.

he looked over at you.

and there you were.

you stood with your arms crossed, your shoulders tense, your fingers curling and uncurling like you weren’t sure what to do with your hands. you weren’t looking at him. not really. your gaze was fixed somewhere near the pavement, your brows knitted together ever so slightly, lips pressed into a thin line—like you were trying your best to hold everything in, to not let anything slip.

felix knew you well enough to see it. you were uncomfortable. you were standing here with him, beside him, but there was a space between you that hadn’t always been there—one he had created.

his chest tightened.

you finally spoke, your voice quieter than usual.

“felix,” you said, still not looking at him. “you don’t have to stay.”

his throat went dry.

you let out a small breath, shifting from one foot to the other, then finally turned to face him. “i can wait here until the bus comes,” you continued, voice careful, measured. “you should go home.”

home.

felix swallowed hard. it should’ve been simple, right? you told him to leave, so he should. that was the logical thing to do.

but his feet didn’t move.

his fingers curled around the suitcase handle and his pulse was erratic, hammering against his ribs.

felix shifted on his feet. you could tell he was debating something, maybe even considering listening to you for once, but then he shook his head—just barely—and said, “no, uh… it’s okay. i’ll stay. just until you get on.”

you swallowed hard.

the air between you went silent, thick with everything unsaid. even the occasional whoosh of cars in the distance felt muted, like the world had decided to press pause just to make this moment even more unbearable.

felix exhaled, glancing down at his shoes before rubbing the back of his neck. “so, um…” he hesitated, then forced out a chuckle, as if that could make things less awkward. “what was your favorite part of the trip?”

you blinked at him. after everything, after what he said—he wanted to talk about the trip? like things were normal? mentally, you scoffed. you didn’t want to answer. didn’t want to entertain the conversation, didn’t want to let him pretend this was fine. but the weight of his stare lingered, waiting, pressing, and so you forced yourself to say the first thing that came to mind.

“maybe… paddleboarding.”

felix nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he was trying to hold onto something good. but you knew, just as well as he did, that it wasn’t the paddleboarding that had meant the most to you.

it was the quieter moments—the ones tucked away, hidden between the noise. like the time at the cove, when the sun had been just the right shade of orange as it dipped into the ocean, or the night of the storm, when the world outside had been drenched and cold, but inside, between the two of you, there had been nothing but warmth.

those moments were the ones that felt worth remembering. the ones that deserved to be written in a story, as though they were the kind of thing worth capturing in the pages of a book, where things could be real and imperfect but somehow beautiful all the same.

but felix had taken a red pen to your story.

he’d crossed out the parts that mattered.

felix simply nodded, his gaze flickering away as if he knew there was more you weren’t saying. but he didn’t press. didn’t push. just stood there, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, rocking slightly on his heels like this was just any other conversation.

and maybe that should’ve been the end of it. maybe you should’ve let the silence settle again, let the conversation die out like the embers of something already burnt beyond recognition.

but instead, you found yourself asking, “what was yours?”

you weren’t even sure why. maybe it was curiosity. maybe it was bitterness, a part of you waiting for him to say something ridiculous—something that would prove how little he really understood about what this trip had meant to you.

felix’s lips parted slightly, like he was just about to say something—like the words were right there, balanced on the edge of his tongue. but before he could get them out, the distant hum of an engine grew louder, and the bus pulled up to the curb with a low, shuddering groan. the brakes hissed sharply, the door swinging open with a mechanical clank.

relief flooded through you. you needed to get out of here, and the bus had arrived just in time, like some kind of escape route appearing at the last possible second.

you pushed yourself up from the bench, fingers already curling around the handle of your luggage. but when you glanced to the side, felix was standing too—like he hadn’t even thought about it, like his body had just moved on instinct to match yours.

“that’s me,” you murmured, voice quiet, steady. 

felix’s breath hitched. his heart pounded, drowning out the world around him—the hiss of the bus, the low murmur of passengers, the rustling leaves caught in the wind. his fingers wouldn’t let go.

you noticed.

"felix," you murmured, your voice barely a breath, your eyes searching his face.

his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, jaw clenched tight like he was holding something back, like if he didn’t, everything he was trying to suppress would come spilling out all at once. the muscles in his forearm flexed, his grip on your luggage so tight his knuckles turned white. he was rigid, bracing for impact, as if letting go of this—of you—would take something vital with it.

then, finally, he looked at you.

and for the first time in days, he didn’t try to hide it.

the fear. the regret. the weight of everything he hadn’t said—it was all there, raw and unguarded, written in the crease of his brows, in the tight set of his mouth.

for a fraction of a second, you hesitated.

you thought about staying.

thought about what it would feel like to let yourself fall into him the way you always had, to pretend for just a little longer that you still belonged in his orbit. that gravity hadn’t shifted, that the ground beneath your feet wasn’t already gone.

but you couldn’t. not now. not like this.

someone brushed past you, muttering as they stepped onto the bus, but the world outside of this moment felt far away, blurred at the edges. all you could feel was the weight in your chest, the unbearable pull of felix’s presence, anchoring you when you knew you had to leave.

"stay," he said, voice rough, barely above a whisper. “just one more day.”

that was all it took. and just like that, something inside you cracked, splintering down the middle.

your breath caught, chest tightening like invisible hands were pressing down, squeezing until it hurt. you could hear it in his voice—the strain, the fear, the quiet desperation buried beneath the syllable. it wasn't just a request. it was a plea.

"you want me to?" you asked, though you already knew the answer.

felix barely nodded. it was small, hesitant—like saying it out loud would break him. his fingers twitched around the handle of your bag, and you knew, right then, that this wasn’t about luggage. this was about letting go. about losing you.

and for a second, you almost gave in.

"one more day so you won’t have to leave like this. please, baby.”

the name—soft, aching, too easy on his tongue—sent a shiver down your spine. a ghost of something you weren’t sure you could bear to feel again.

you swallowed hard, your grip tightening around the strap of your bag like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality. the bus engine was humming, the driver barely sparing you a glance as the line of passengers shuffled forward. you were so close to leaving—so close to stepping onto that bus, to putting distance between yourself and the weight of everything he wasn’t saying.

but then there was felix. his fingers still curled around your bag, his eyes locked onto yours like he was afraid that if he blinked, you’d disappear.

“i can’t stay,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

his brows drew together, the muscles in his jaw tightening as if bracing himself for impact. “why not?”

your throat ached, and god, you wished he wouldn’t ask that. wished he wouldn’t make this harder than it already was.

“because you don’t get to do this,” you said, voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “you don’t get to push me away, to tell me you don’t love me, and then ask me to stay like none of that happened.”

his breath hitched, like your words physically knocked the air out of him.

“i know,” he said again, and this time, it was barely a sound. more like an admission, a confession, something raw and broken slipping between his lips.

you let out a shaky breath, willing yourself to move, to take that last step onto the bus, but you still weren’t sure if your feet would obey you.

your chest tightened as you lifted your hand, the movement slow and hesitant, as if each inch closer to him made your body ache with the weight of what was about to happen. your fingers brushed his cheek, the warmth of his skin seeping through, and you almost couldn’t breathe. you let your hand linger, trembling slightly as it cupped his face fully. his skin was soft under your palm, the familiar feel of him like an echo of a time when everything between you was simpler, lighter.

the moment you touched him, felix’s breath hitched sharply, his eyes fluttering shut like your fingers were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. the way his body seemed to freeze, how every inch of him softened under your touch, sent a pang straight through your chest. for a split second, everything felt real again—like the space between you was no longer filled with distance and hurt.

in that fragile moment, he was yours. the boy who used to steal your breath with just a look. the boy whose presence was enough to make the world fall away, to make everything else fade into the background. the boy who once held your heart like it was the most precious thing he’d ever touched, as if he were the only one who could hold it right.

but that boy wasn’t yours anymore.

and you weren’t his, either.

you pulled your hand back slowly, like it was being torn from him, the ache in your chest growing sharper with each second. felix’s fingers, which had been clinging to your bag, loosened reluctantly, his grip faltering as if he wasn’t ready to let go of the moment—or you. but finally, after what felt like an eternity, he did. his fingers released completely, and the absence of his touch was a cold, empty space you could feel in the marrow of your bones.

it was like a shiver ran through you, one that had nothing to do with the breeze or the chill in the air. his touch—his warmth—was gone, and that absence left you hollow.

you took a shaky step back, and the world seemed to press in closer, suffocating you with the weight of everything unsaid. your throat burned as you forced yourself to turn away. your heart was screaming to look back at him, but you didn’t. you couldn’t. because if you did, you knew that this—this goodbye—would never happen.

as you stepped away, something inside felix fractured. a deep, splintering crack that felt like it started in his ribs and spread outward, threatening to pull him apart.

he watched your back, the way your shoulders tensed—like you were holding yourself together by sheer force of will, like every instinct in you was screaming to turn around, but you wouldn’t let yourself.

and then, for the first time, a terrifying thought struck him with full force.

this was it.

his last chance.

if he let you walk away now, that was it—no rewrites, no second takes to fix what had already unraveled. no more late-night calls that stretched until sunrise. no more accidental glances across crowded rooms that felt anything but accidental. no more hope that, one day, you’d find your way back to him.

because this time, you wouldn’t.

felix felt it in his bones.

panic seized his chest, squeezing until it hurt. his heart slammed against his ribs, his pulse a roaring tide in his ears. he had spent so long telling himself there was time—that someday, somehow, he’d make things right. that you’d come back.

but there was no more time.

and if he didn’t do something—right now—he would lose you forever.

“wait.”

the word tore from his throat, raw and desperate. his feet moved before he could think, before reason could stop him, closing the space between you.

you froze.

his hands shook as he reached for you—not to hold you back, not to keep you here against your will, but just to touch. just to feel you, even for a second, to prove to himself that you were still real.

his fingers brushed your wrist, making you turn.

felix’s breath caught.

your eyes were glassy, sunlight catching on the unshed tears that lined them. your lips parted slightly, like there were words you wanted to say but couldn’t quite find. the sight of you—standing there, looking at him like that—sent a sharp, twisting ache straight through his chest.

he couldn’t keep doing this to you. couldn’t keep pulling you back when he had no right to.

his fingers twitched against your skin, and suddenly, he saw it—the exhaustion in your posture, the way your shoulders sagged beneath the weight of something heavy, something unspoken.

and he realized—he wasn’t making this easier. he was making it worse.

his throat tightened.

you glanced back at the bus. most of the passengers were already inside, the driver shifting impatiently in his seat, fingers hovering near the door controls.

the moment was slipping away.

you were slipping away.

felix panicked.

“don’t you wanna know my favorite part of the trip?” felix blurted, his voice fraying at the edges.

you hesitated. your brows pulled together—wary, guarded—but something in your stance shifted. the tension in your shoulders eased, just barely. and then, slowly, reluctantly, you turned back toward him.

felix swallowed hard. his palms were clammy, his throat dry.

you were so beautiful.

the thought hit him like a punch to the gut.

the way the sunlight softened against your skin, the way your eyes—tired, hesitant, but still on him—made him feel like he was sixteen again. back when he used to stumble over his words, back when he was desperate to make you laugh.

but this wasn’t then.

and he wasn’t sure he had anything left that could make you stay.

you exhaled slowly, closing your eyes for a moment, like you were trying to steady yourself, like if you could just block out the way he was looking at you, this wouldn’t hurt so much.

felix waited.

you could feel it—the weight of his stare, the silent plea in the space between you. he wanted this moment to stretch, to last just a little longer, to mean something. but you weren’t sure if it could anymore.

still, for some reason—maybe exhaustion, maybe something deeper—you gave him a chance. one last chance.

your eyes fluttered open, and you met his gaze.

“okay,” you said, voice quiet. “what was it?”

felix’s lips parted slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to ask, like he hadn’t thought he’d get this far. he ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit, and then let out a breathy chuckle—small, shaky, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.

“i can’t really choose just one thing,” he admitted, voice quiet, careful. “but i don’t think… i could ever forget the night you defended me at the bonfire.”

you froze.

the memory came rushing back—griff’s careless, biting words, the way felix had stood there, caught off guard and unsure, trying to brush it off like it didn’t matter. but it did. you’d seen it in his eyes, in the way his jaw had clenched just a second too late. and you—without hesitation, without a second thought—had stood up for him.

felix swallowed hard. his breath came out unsteady. “i don’t think i’ll ever forget what you did for me,” he said, his gaze flickering down for half a second before meeting yours again, open and raw. “what it felt like to have someone care that much. to have you care that much.” his voice softened. “it meant a lot… more than i realized back then.”

silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, like a moment caught between what was and what could have been.

felix shifted, his fingers twitching at his sides. when he spoke again, his voice was lower, rougher. “that night… i felt so—” he exhaled sharply, like the words were catching in his throat. “i felt so loved by you.” his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “and i didn’t even know what to do with it. but it was real. and it meant more than i could ever put into words.”

your breath hitched.

then, softer, hesitant, like he was afraid of the weight of it, he said, “and later that night, when i was drunk… i told you i loved you, too.”

your stomach twisted.

“you… remember that?” your voice was barely above a whisper.

felix nodded, slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. “of course i do,” he murmured. “i’ve been thinking about it all week—wondering if i could just get drunk enough again… maybe i’d finally be able to say it.” he let out a shaky breath, his lips pressing together for a beat before he added, almost helplessly, “because i don’t know how to do it sober.”

you let out a soft laugh at his choice of words, and he did too—quiet, a little breathless, like he couldn’t believe he’d just said it out loud. but the moment the laughter faded, his expression shifted. his eyes softened, filled with something deep and unspoken, something you couldn’t quite place but knew was real.

“and really…” he hesitated, just for a second, before his gaze locked onto yours with quiet certainty. “i’ve been meaning to tell you since the first night we got here.”

your breath hitched and you nodded slowly.

felix let out a shaky laugh, running a hand down his face, almost like he couldn’t believe he was saying this out loud. his voice was raw, unfiltered, like he wasn’t holding anything back anymore. “the first night i kissed you, the first night i ever held you that close—i knew. i knew then.”

your heart pounded in your ears, so loud it drowned out everything else. felix let out a shaky laugh, running a hand down his face like he couldn’t believe he was saying any of this out loud. his voice was raw, unfiltered, stripped of all the walls he usually hid behind.

“so, y/n”

you nodded, a soft, almost hesitant motion, your eyes searching his face, desperate to read the unspoken words lingering in the curve of his lips, in the way his hands clenched at his sides like he was holding himself together by a thread.

“i love you.”

the words came out raw, unpolished—nothing like the way they sounded in his head all the times he had imagined saying them. but they were real. and they were his. the words hit differently this time. not as a memory, not as a drunken slur from a night long past, but real—here, now, spoken with absolute clarity.

for a second, neither of you moved. the bus doors hissed closed, the driver glancing impatiently toward you, but it didn’t matter. all that mattered was the boy in front of you, standing there like he had just handed you his entire heart and was waiting—praying—you wouldn’t drop it.

you were too stunned, too caught in the weight of what he had just given you. your fingers trembled at your sides, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might shake your entire body.

his voice cracked, thick with something too big to swallow down. “so please, stay.” his hands twitched, like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if he was allowed to. “i’ll do anything to make sure you know it, to make sure you never have to doubt it again.” 

“but what about earlier—”

felix flinched, his breath hitching like the weight of his own words was crashing down on him all at once. “i didn’t mean it,” he said quickly, his voice breaking at the edges. “god, i didn’t mean any of it.”

his hands clenched at his sides before he exhaled sharply, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “i was scared, y/n. i’ve been scared this whole time. scared of screwing this up, of losing you, of feeling this much and not knowing what the hell to do with it.” his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “but losing you for real? watching you walk away just now?” his voice wavered. “that’s worse than anything i was afraid of before.”

you stared at him, your heart slamming against your ribs, your breath catching somewhere between disbelief and something dangerously close to hope.

felix loved you.

and all this time—through the confusion, the hurt, the way he made you think you were the only one feeling this way—he had lied. he had let you believe it wasn’t real. that it was one-sided. that you had been foolish to hope.

it was too much.

your chest ached, too tight, too full, and your mind swam with everything he had said—everything he hadn't said until now. your hands trembled at your sides, and you felt the sting of tears press against your eyes, but you refused to blink them away.

your voice was barely above a whisper. “say it again.”

felix’s lips parted slightly, his brows pulling together like he hadn’t expected that. because those were the exact words mabel had said to him once. 

but you weren’t mabel.

“i need to hear it again.” your voice wavered, something raw and unsteady slipping through. “because you made me think i was wrong. that i was stupid for thinking you could ever feel this way. and i believed you, felix.” your breath hitched, and you looked at him, pleading, desperate. “so say it again.”

you weren’t asking to hear it so you could tear him apart, to humiliate him, to throw it back in his face like it meant nothing.

you wanted to hear it because you cherished it. because you wanted him to know that his words weren’t wasted this time.

that showed him the difference between you two.

a slow, almost breathless smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and when he spoke, his voice was steadier than before.

“i love you,” he said again, firmer this time. like if he said it enough, it would erase all the times he didn’t. “i love you so much, and i hate that it took me this long to tell you.” his voice cracked, raw and pleading. “but if there’s even the smallest part of you that still wants this, still wants me—” he exhaled shakily. “then stay.”

your breath shuddered as the weight of his words settled deep in your chest. it was stronger now, fuller. it sounded like something he believed—like something he knew he wouldn’t regret saying. and when he saw the way you nodded, the way you practically melted against him, he knew—he had never meant anything more.

your suitcase slipped from your grip, landing on the pavement with a dull thud. neither of you cared.

you stepped forward, closing the space between you in one heartbeat, then another, until your arms wrapped tightly around him. your fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, holding on as if you’d lose yourself if you let go. and felix—he didn’t hesitate. his arms came around you instantly, locking you against him like he had been waiting for this, terrified it wouldn’t come.

his hand slid up your back, gripping the fabric of your shirt, like he needed to feel every inch of you there, solid and real. his other hand cradled the back of your head, pressing you closer as if he could make up for every second he had spent pushing you away. his heart pounded against yours, a frantic rhythm that matched the breathless way he whispered your name.

you buried your face in his neck, breathing him in, letting the warmth of his embrace settle deep in your bones. his arms tightened around you, as if he could somehow pull you even closer, as if he needed to prove to himself that you were real, that you weren’t slipping away.

slowly, you pulled back just enough to look at him, your forehead pressing gently against his. his breath hitched. his hands slid down to cradle your waist, grounding himself in your touch. and for the first time, there was no fear in his eyes. no hesitation. just you. just this.

your fingers brushed against his jaw, tracing the way his lips parted, the way his breath mingled with yours. a soft, shaky smile played at your lips as you whispered, “oh, felix… i love you too.”

day 7 - 22:00

love is terrifying.

not in the way people talk about in books and movies, not just the fear of losing someone or the ache of longing. no, the real terror of love is in the surrender. the moment you give yourself over completely, when your heart is no longer just yours to protect. when you look at someone and realize they have the power to destroy you, to unravel you with a single word, a single choice.

and yet—you still love them.

despite the risk, despite the fear, despite the way your heart stumbles at the thought of what could go wrong, you let yourself fall. because love is also the only thing that makes the fear worth it. it is the only thing strong enough to make you stay when everything in you is screaming to run.

with felix, it felt like the easiest thing in the world.

the bathroom was quiet, save for the soft hum of the fan and the rhythmic brushing of your toothbrush against your teeth. the mirror was fogged up from the shower felix had taken before you, and the scent of his shampoo lingered in the air—clean, familiar, and grounding.

he stood beside you, shirtless, his damp hair curling at the ends. he’d already finished brushing, leaning lazily against the counter as he watched you in the mirror. without a word, he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his chin onto your shoulder. 

"i saw how nicely you made your bed this morning," he murmured, voice slow and deliberate. his lips grazed the shell of your ear, though it was casual—like he wasn’t doing anything other than speaking. "like you knew you were leaving."

you rinsed your toothbrush and set it back in the holder, rolling your eyes. "i was leaving. that was the plan, remember?"

felix hummed, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your skin. "right. but now you’re staying for one more night."

there was something knowing in his voice, something that made your stomach flutter just a little. he pressed his chest more firmly against your back, his breath warm against your neck. you met his gaze in the mirror, and his smile was soft—amused, teasing, and utterly confident.

"wouldn’t it be a shame," he continued, his fingertips dancing lightly across your sides, "to go through all that effort just to sleep in it again?"

you huffed a laugh, tilting your head slightly. "what are you saying, felix?"

he sighed like it was the most obvious thing in the world, nuzzling his nose into your shoulder. "i’m just thinking practically. why mess up two beds when we could… consolidate?"

you raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. "consolidate?"

"mm." he shifted his hands to your hips, his thumbs pressing lightly into your skin, sending a wave of warmth through you. "efficient. environmentally friendly. and, you know, convenient. since i’d probably just end up dragging you into my bed at some point in the night anyway."

you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips, despite trying to remain indifferent. his charm always got to you, no matter how hard you tried to pretend you weren’t affected. his teasing was contagious, and you found yourself grinning, the warmth from his hands on your hips settling deep into you.

"consolidate, huh?" you said, "sounds like a very felix solution."

he grinned in return, clearly pleased with himself. "it’s a genius solution," he teased, his voice low and coaxing as he leaned closer, the proximity of his body sending a shiver through you. "so, yes? you’ll sleep with me tonight?"

his question was soft but undeniably hopeful, the weight of it resting between you like a promise and a challenge all at once.

you met his eyes, trying to keep your tone playful but firm. "yes, but," you added, lifting a finger to emphasize your point, "this better not be a regular thing." you gave him a mock glare, your voice softening.

felix chuckled, eyes warm with something deeper than amusement. “i know,” he said, his voice gentle but certain.

you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. it was easy to forget, sometimes, when he looked at you like that—like you were the only thing in the world worth waiting for. but you both knew where you stood, and that mattered more than fleeting temptation.

he gave you one last grin before stepping back, stretching lazily as he turned toward his bedroom. “i’ll be good. promise.”

“mm-hmm.” you narrowed your eyes at him, pretending to consider his words. “you better be.”

you watched him go, shaking your head at the small bounce in his step.

the moment felix was out of sight, you let out a slow breath, pressing your palms against the bathroom counter. the mirror was still fogged, the scent of him still lingering in the air, wrapping around you like a presence you couldn’t shake.

your fingers curled slightly against the cool surface, your pulse steadying. you should be happy. you were happy. today, felix had finally told you he loved you. soft. certain. like he meant it with every part of him.

and yet.

you swallowed, staring at your reflection—at the way your expression had shifted now that he was gone. the doubt was creeping in again, just like it always did when you were alone with your thoughts.

why had it taken him so long?

it wasn’t that you doubted his feelings. you felt them in the way he looked at you, in the way he touched you like he was memorizing every inch of your skin, in the way he always found some excuse to keep you close. but love—real love—wasn’t just in the moments that felt easy. it was in the hard ones too. and felix had waited. too long.

your mind drifted back to what chris had told you yesterday, like he wasn’t sure if he should bring it up at all. the words had stuck with you, curling into the back of your mind like a whisper you couldn’t shake.

he had mentioned her offhandedly, but the way he said her name—the way his expression darkened, the way he hesitated—made it clear that she wasn’t just an ex-girlfriend. there was something heavier there, something left unsaid.

you hadn’t asked for more. maybe because you didn’t want to know. 

but now, standing in this quiet bathroom, your mind wouldn't let it go.

what if there was something there?

you closed your eyes, inhaling slowly. you didn’t want to ruin this. you didn’t want to doubt him. you swallowed hard, your fingers twitching against the cool porcelain of the sink.

asking him outright would be the easiest thing. the right thing.

but something inside you hesitated.

felix had never given you a reason to doubt him—not really. he had always been patient, always looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth seeing. but this? this was the one thing he hadn’t told you, the one piece of him that felt just out of reach.

you had to do something.

your hand slipped into the pocket of your pants before you could think better of it. the smooth surface of your phone pressed against your palm as you pulled it out, staring at the screen like it might give you an answer before you even asked the question.

this felt wrong.

you told yourself that immediately. you weren’t the kind of person who did this. you weren’t the kind of person who went looking for things they weren’t meant to find.

but girls did it all the time, didn’t they?

how many times had you heard the stories—friends scrolling through messages, checking followers, searching for the proof they needed before they could believe in something? and if they found nothing, wasn’t that just as much of an answer?

so why couldn’t you?

your heart pounded in your ears as you unlocked your phone, your thumb hovering over it.

instagram. felix’s account. search bar.

mabel.

and then, there she was.

mabel whitmore.

your stomach tightened as you tapped on the profile, barely breathing as her page loaded.

her account was public. and she was stunning.

the kind of stunning that made your breath catch in your throat. golden hair cascading in soft waves over tanned shoulders, sharp cheekbones, full lips, the kind of eyes that could level a person with just one glance. a total bombshell—effortless, untouchable. the kind of girl people wrote songs about.

you scrolled down, taking in the perfectly framed snapshots of her life. beaches, city lights, sunlit selfies, arms slung around groups of friends. and felix—

your thumb froze over the screen.

you almost didn’t recognize him at first—his hair was a little shorter, falling messily over his forehead, his face slightly softer with youth. he wasn’t the focus of the picture, just sitting off to the side on some worn leather couch, arm draped lazily over the backrest, a bottle dangling from his fingers. but it was him.

and she hadn’t deleted it.

you knew how these things usually went. people erased their exes like wiping fingerprints off glass. they archived the memories, pretended they had never existed, let time do the rest.

you ignored the way your stomach twisted and kept scrolling.

her most recent post caught your eye.

it wasn’t anything flashy. just a candid shot—her sitting on a picnic blanket, sunlight spilling over her, a half-empty wine glass in her hand, laughing at something outside the frame. carefree. beautiful. alive.

the timestamp at the bottom read that it was posted two years ago. she hadn’t posted since.

your brows knit together. that didn’t make sense. a girl like this, someone who lived in front of the camera, someone so effortlessly captivating—why would she just stop?

you flicked to the comments, looking for a reason. an explanation.

"miss you every day, mabel. fly high, angel."

"thinking about you always."

"not a day goes by where i don’t wish we had more time."

your breath caught in your throat.

no.

your thumb kept scrolling, scanning through comment after comment, but they all said the same thing. miss you. love you. wish you were still here.

mabel whitmore wasn’t just felix’s ex.

she was gone.

your chest felt tight, like the air had been sucked out of the room. you should stop. you should put your phone down, walk away, pretend you never saw any of this.

but you couldn’t. because now you had to know.

you swallowed hard and did the one thing you knew you shouldn’t do. you opened your web browser.

your fingers moved on their own, typing mabel whitmore into the search bar, the letters blurring together as your vision wavered. your heart pounded, your pulse echoing in your ears as you hit search.

it loaded instantly.

her name appeared at the top of the page, bold and unmistakable. but it wasn’t an article, or a social media profile, or anything remotely normal.

it was a memorial site.

your stomach dropped.

the header at the top read in loving memory: flight 417

you stared, unable to process it.

a list of names stretched down the page, each one followed by a small candle icon, flickering gently as if trying to soften the harsh reality of what they represented.

your eyes skimmed past name after name, and then—

mabel whitmore. age 16. 

the world around you seemed to tilt.

a flight. a plane crash.

your brain scrambled to catch up, trying to recall if you had ever heard about it. it must have been in the news. it must have been something people talked about. but for some reason, right now, it felt like a secret. a quiet, buried tragedy you were never meant to stumble upon.

a trembling breath left your lips.

your chest tightened as you scrolled back up, rereading the words, like maybe they would rearrange themselves and tell you a different story. but they didn’t. the truth was right there, staring back at you in flickering candlelight.

a deep breath shuddered through you, but it did nothing to settle the nausea curling in your stomach. you felt dizzy, like you’d stepped off the edge of something without realizing it.

your fingers clenched around your phone, your breath shallow and uneven.

sixteen.

she was only sixteen.

your mind reeled, the pieces snapping together too fast for you to hold onto them. 

mabel whitmore had never broken up with felix. she had been taken. just gone, ripped from the world like a page torn from a book, leaving only silence where she should have been.

and felix—

oh, god.

felix.

you had completely forgotten where you were.

the bathroom was too quiet, the soft hum of the fan the only thing keeping you tethered to the present. your reflection in the mirror looked different now—your skin paler, your eyes too wide, your lips parted like you were about to say something but couldn’t find the words.

felix was out there.

just a few steps away, waiting in his bedroom, probably sprawled across the sheets like he always did, looking at his phone or staring at the ceiling, lost in some thought he’d never say out loud. he was waiting for you.

but you couldn’t go back.

because how could you look him in the eye now, knowing what you knew? knowing that you had dug into his past like it was some puzzle to be solved instead of a wound that had never fully healed? he would hate you. he would think you were awful. nosy. invasive.

and maybe he’d be right.

you squeezed your eyes shut, gripping the edge of the sink.

you weren’t supposed to know this.

you weren’t supposed to find this.

but now, you couldn’t forget it. you couldn’t erase it, couldn’t pretend you hadn’t seen her name on that list, hadn’t read the comments, hadn’t imagined what it must have been like for felix to wake up in a world without her in it.

a deep breath shuddered through you.

you couldn’t even begin to imagine that kind of pain.

you glanced at the door.

you had to go back out there. you couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever. but for the first time, being near felix felt terrifying. 

you shoved your phone deep into your pocket like that could somehow bury everything you had just uncovered. screw it. you turned off the bathroom light and stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, your heartbeat still uneven, your breath still not quite steady.

felix’s bedroom door was open.

and there he was.

he was lying back against the headboard, one arm folded behind his head, the other resting lazily across his stomach. his shirt had ridden up just slightly, exposing a sliver of skin, and his legs were sprawled comfortably like he owned the space.

the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast warm shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the curve of his lips.

felix turned his head at the sound of you stepping inside, his eyes finding yours instantly. smiling like seeing you was the best part of his night.

“hi,” he said, voice warm.

you hesitated for just a second, but then you forced yourself to move, to push away the whirlwind of thoughts still spinning in your mind. you had to—at least for now.

felix's smile softened as he lifted a hand, beckoning you closer with a slow, lazy gesture. "come here, baby," he murmured, his voice low and coaxing. the way he said it—so easy, so sure—sent warmth curling through your chest, unraveling you before you even reached the bed.

you exhaled, pressing a small smile to your lips as you crossed the room. you couldn’t let him see the weight of what you had just learned—not yet. not when you didn’t even know what to do with it yourself.

when you reached the edge of the bed, felix reached for you. his fingers brushed against your wrist first, then slipped up to your elbow, tugging you forward. you let yourself go, let yourself sink into the space beside him, the mattress dipping beneath your weight.

he shifted, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his side. "much better," he sighed, content. his hand found the small of your back, tracing slow, lazy circles against the fabric of your shirt, grounding you in the warmth of him.

your feet brushed against his legs, ice-cold against his skin, and he tensed for a second before letting out a dramatic groan.

“you’re so cold,” he grumbled, which made you chuckle.

felix huffed a laugh, but then he did something that made your heart stutter. he reached down, wrapping his fingers around your ankle, and pulled your leg over his, tangling them together under the blankets. his palm smoothed up the back of your thigh, rubbing slow, lazy circles into your skin.

"there," he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. "i'll warm you up."

your stomach flipped.

he wasn’t even trying. that was the worst part. felix had this effortless way of touching you, of making you feel wanted without even thinking about it. like it was second nature. like it had always been this easy for him.

and then—like he could still sense the tension in you, the hesitation you hadn’t quite managed to shake—he pulled back just enough to tilt his head and look at you.

his eyes were soft in the dim light, his expression open in that way that always made it impossible to hide from him. his fingers found your jaw, tracing the line of it with the lightest touch before tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

"hey," he said, his voice quieter now, steadier. "what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?"

you swallowed hard. "nothing," you lied.

felix studied you for a moment, his thumb brushing absently over the corner of your mouth, like he was committing the feel of you to memory. then, with an infuriatingly knowing look, he murmured, "liar."

your breath caught.

there were those questions lingering at the back of your mind, but you decided they could wait. for now, it was enough to be here, wrapped in his warmth, his fingers tracing over your skin like you were something precious.

"i couldn't be better, felix," you murmured.

his brows lifted slightly, like he was trying to decide if he believed you. but then his lips curled into a smile, and whatever hesitation had been there melted away.

"good," he whispered, his voice all honey and warmth.

and then, just as effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he said, "i love you."

you swallowed around the warmth rising in your throat, your heart pounding against your ribs.

"i love you too."

the words had barely left your lips before felix was kissing you. a soft, almost relieved sigh slipped from him, like he had been waiting to hear you say it, like those words had settled something deep inside him.

his lips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate sweetness at first—like he was savoring the moment, letting it sink into his bones. his fingers curled at the nape of your neck, keeping you close, tilting your head just the way he wanted.

when he deepened it, the shift was subtle, but you felt it. the way his hand tightened against your back, pulling you flush against him. the way his fingers slid into your hair, his grip just firm enough to make you shiver.

your hands found his shoulders, sliding up to tangle in the fabric of his shirt as he kissed you deeper, his lips parting against yours, his tongue teasing at the seam of your mouth. heat pooled low in your stomach, making your head spin.

you kissed him back without thinking, without hesitation, matching the slow, desperate rhythm he set. each press of his lips was intoxicating, like he was drinking you in, like he had no plans of letting you go anytime soon.

his fingers traced your spine, dipping beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing over bare skin. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver rippling through you, a soft gasp slipping from your lips.

his hand splayed across your waist now, his palm broad and warm as he smoothed over your skin, his touch deliberate but unhurried. it was different tonight—he was different. softer in some ways, more certain in others. like something had settled between you after yesterday morning, after the way you'd lost yourselves in each other, tangled up in sheets and heat and need.

and now, that need was creeping in again, simmering just beneath the surface.

felix shifted slightly, the movement subtle, but you felt it—the press of him, firm against your thigh, unmistakable. your breath hitched, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt, and for a second, neither of you moved. the moment stretched, heavy with something unspoken, something thick in the air between you.

his lips lingered against yours, barely a breath away, his forehead brushing against you. and then, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, exactly what you were feeling, his fingers tightened against your waist.

"feel that?" he murmured, his voice lower now, rougher.

your pulse pounded. you nodded, not trusting your voice.

felix's fingers flexed against your waist, his touch grounding, steady—but your heart was anything but.

normally, you’d want this. you’d want him. you’d be pulling him closer, melting into him, aching for more. but tonight, it felt different. wrong.

not because of him.

because of what you’d learned.

the weight of it pressed into your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs, making the warmth between you feel like something you weren’t sure you were allowed to have. his ex-girlfriend was dead. and you didn’t know what that meant, not really, but it sat heavy in your stomach, twisting and knotting, making everything else feel distant.

felix kissed you again, softer this time, coaxing, like he could sense the shift in you. his thumb traced slow circles against your ribs, patient, unhurried. "hey," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. his eyes searched yours, their usual warmth still there, but now there was something else, too—concern.

"you okay?"

you swallowed, trying to find words, but your throat felt too tight. you weren’t okay. you weren’t sure how to be.

felix’s hand moved to your cheek, cradling it gently, his thumb brushing over your skin. "talk to me, baby," he coaxed, his voice so soft, so careful, like he already knew something was wrong. "what’s going on?"

your chest ached. you wanted to tell him. you didn’t want to tell him.

because once you did, it would be real.

and you weren’t ready for real. not yet.

felix’s brows knit together, the warmth in his eyes shifting into something deeper, something worried. you tried to blink back the sting in your eyes, but it was useless—the guilt was pressing down too hard, too fast, and before you could stop it, your vision blurred.

his thumb brushed over your cheek again, softer this time, like he was afraid you might break. "baby," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "did i—" he hesitated, his throat working around the words, his fingers flexing against your waist. "did i make you uncomfortable?"

you shook your head quickly, but the movement made the lump in your throat tighten, and then—

the first sob broke free.

felix inhaled sharply, his grip on you loosening, like he was afraid of holding on too tight. "shit," he whispered, his other hand coming up, hovering just over your arm, like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you. "hey, hey, it’s okay—just tell me what’s wrong. i—" he swallowed hard, his voice going unsteady. "do you want me to leave? i can take the couch. you can stay here, and if you don’t want this, if this feels wrong, i’ll—" his voice cracked slightly. "i’ll do anything. just tell me what you need."

you shook your head again, harder this time, and before he could pull away any further, you reached for him, your arms wrapping around him tight, desperate.

"no," you choked out, pressing your face against his shoulder. "it’s not that. it’s not you."

felix went still for half a second, like he was trying to understand—but then, without hesitation, his arms came around you. he held you close, pressing his cheek against the top of your head, his breath uneven as he tried to steady you, or maybe himself.

your fingers curled into the back of his shirt, clinging to him, like you could hold onto him tight enough to keep the guilt from swallowing you whole. "i’m sorry," you whispered, voice breaking.

felix exhaled slowly, his hands smoothing over your back, grounding. "for what?" he asked, voice careful, like he didn’t want to push too hard. "talk to me, baby."

you just shook your head, burying yourself against him, unable to find the words.

felix didn’t press. he just held you tighter, rubbing slow, soothing circles over your spine, letting you break apart in his arms, even though you knew he didn’t understand why.

even though you weren’t sure how to tell him.

felix’s arms tightened around you, as if he was anchoring you to him, trying to keep you from slipping away into the storm of thoughts you couldn’t escape. his voice was a soft murmur against your ear, the words tentative but filled with care. "do you want to stay here?"

you nodded against him, your breath shaky, the tears still hot on your cheeks. the question wasn’t a surprise—it felt like he knew you, like he understood without needing you to say the words.

his hand smoothed through your hair, gentle, almost reverent. "it’s okay," he whispered. "you can tell me about it tomorrow. just... breathe."

you squeezed your eyes shut, the sound of his voice a lifeline, grounding you in the moment, pulling you back from the edge. "i’m so sorry," you said again, almost in a whisper, your voice thick with the weight of everything you couldn’t explain.

felix shushed you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "it’s okay," he repeated, his voice low and soothing, the words a balm for the mess of emotions you didn’t know how to deal with. "you don’t have to apologize. i’m here."

his fingers traced along your spine, slow and steady, as if giving you the space to breathe, to feel what you needed to feel. there was no pressure, no rush—just him, holding you, letting you break if you had to.

felix exhaled softly, his hand moving in slow circles over your back as you rested against him. "it’s okay," he said once more, his tone gentle, reassuring. "we’ll be okay."

and for the first time that night, you believed it.

[pixiefelixie]

it’s not even funny

remember this summer is actively healing me from my traumatic first love

please please PLEASE keep writing you are so incredibly at it 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

aww tysm you have no idea how much this means to me im so happy for you 💕💕

[pixiefelixie]

loreli | 18 | she/her

about me (coming soon). masterlist. requests open!!

[pixiefelixie]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ pixiefelixie's masterlist

index: fluff (f), angst (a), suggestive (s), drabble (d), headcannon (h)

ot8

coffee and charm (f, s)

chan

home, sweet, home (d, f)

lee know

peach to my mario (f)

soft hours (f)

the seams between us (a, f)

changbin

coming soon~

hyunjin

coming soon~

han

coming soon~

felix

remember this summer (series, a, f, s (see link for details))

untitled (f, d)

hurt people hurt people (a, f)

thinking bout you, thinking bout you (f)

seungmin

my valentine (a, f)

a series of phone calls while seungmin is on tour (a, f, s)

remake? (f)

jeongin

i wanna show you off (a, f, s)

college dirtbags (f, s)

[pixiefelixie]

#he is insufferable I need him #bang chan fic

counterpoint chemistry...

...the one where you and chan turn a debate into a flirting match

you’re in the middle of a very serious academic debate.

or at least, it was serious before bang chan decided to turn it into his own personal rom-com.

"automation is creating a dangerous overreliance on technology," you argue, voice steady, eyes locked on your actual opponent and not on the annoyingly attractive man smirking at you from across the room. "people are losing problem-solving skills, critical thinking, basic human interaction-"

"basic human interaction?" chan interrupts, tilting his head. "you and i seem to be interacting just fine."

your jaw tightens. "academically, bahng. stay on topic."

"i am on topic," he counters, leaning slightly on his podium. "your whole argument is about losing human connection, but here we are, connecting. seems a little counterintuitive, don’t you think?"

his teammates snicker. your teammate visibly facepalms. the moderator sighs deeply, as if regretting every decision that led to this moment.

you take a steady breath. "you're missing the point. this isn't what the motion is about."

"or maybe," he says, tapping his fingers, long and slender and adorning a simple bracelet, against the podium, "you just don’t like that i have a point."

your eyes narrow. "oh, please. the only point you have is the one you’re trying to make about yourself."

he grins. "if you think i’m that self-absorbed, why do you pay so much attention to me?"

"i don’t."

"really?" he raises a brow. "because every time i talk, your eyes go straight to me."

"that’s called participating in a debate, bang. gets me the point you lose every time you're being stupid."

"that’s called being interested," he fires back.

you clench your jaw. "in proving you wrong."

he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. "you’re fun when you’re all riled up."

"and you’re turning this debate far too personal," you mutter, flipping through your notes. "if i wanted to waste my time, i’d debate a brick wall."

"but a brick wall wouldn’t flirt back," he quips, eyes twinkling.

"oh, so you admit this is flirting?" you shoot back, raising a brow, a slight smirk adorning your lips. you got him.

his grin falters for a second, no, half a second too long. "wait. no, that’s not-"

"moderator," you say smoothly, turning away from him, "i'd like to formally request that my opponent get deducted points for flirting instead of debating."

the moderator looks exhausted. "if i start deducting points for flirting, we'll be here all night."

"can we please be here all night," chan mutters under his breath.

you turn to glare at him. "i heard that."

he smirks, completely unapologetic. "good."

your teammate groans. "can we please just finish this debate before one of you confesses?"

"i'm waiting on them," chan says, nudging his chin toward you.

"in your bloody dreams," you fire back.

his smirk softens, just slightly, in a way that makes your heart stumble over itself.

"you have no idea."

[pixiefelixie]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ MY VALENTINE KIM SEUNGMIN

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis your 17-year-old dog, who had survived chocolate poisoning, a bicycle accident, and a raccoon fight, finally passed away peacefully—proving that even the most legendary warriors must one day retire. in your grief, you completely fell apart, only to realize your usually sarcastic boyfriend might actually be capable of being soft and supportive—something even more shocking than your dog’s immortality finally running out.

pairings: menace!seungmin x menace!reader warnings: death of a pet, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, seungmin is a sweetheart i need a seungmin for valentines day thank you very much, they're in love your honour

before seungmin was your boyfriend, he was your best friend. there was no messy talking stage, no drawn-out situationship—just years of friendship that seamlessly shifted into something more. it happened on prom night, after one unexpectedly deep conversation that peeled back layers neither of you had ever touched before. from that moment on, everything changed.

your friends had seen it coming long before you did. they used to roll their eyes and exchange knowing glances whenever you and seungmin bickered, convinced that it was only a matter of time before one of you caved. it wasn’t hard to see why. your friendship with seungmin was filled with smacking, bullying, and calling each other mean names. naturally, that dynamic carried over into your relationship as well. 

but sometimes, you wondered if seungmin ever really took you seriously. saying serious things—things that mattered—never came easy for either of you. the words always got tangled in sarcasm, deflected by jokes. even kissing was often a game, a teasing challenge where he’d lean in just to pull away at the last second, smirking as you huffed in frustration. it wasn’t that he didn’t care. it wasn’t that you didn’t care. it was just easier to dance around the depth of your feelings than to dive straight in.

one evening, after seungmin had spent nearly an hour tormenting you with relentless tickles, leaving you breathless from laughter and weak from squirming, you huffed in exasperation.

“why do you always have to be such a menace?” you asked, still catching your breath.

he grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned back. “because i only act like this with you.” his voice was quieter now, softer, like a secret he was finally ready to share. “you’re special to me.”

for once, you didn’t have a comeback.

the city lights blurred outside the bus window, distorted by the tears welling in your eyes. you blinked rapidly, willing them away, but the tightness in your throat only grew stronger. with every stop, every jerk of the bus, your composure cracked a little more. you clenched your jaw, staring hard at your reflection in the dark glass. just a little longer. just until you got home.

finally, your stop came. you shuffled off the bus, stepping into the cool night air. the walk to your apartment felt longer than usual, each step heavier than the last. your breaths were shallow, uneven, as you swallowed back the lump in your throat. the world around you moved as if nothing had changed—cars rushing by, a couple laughing in the distance, a stray cat darting across the sidewalk—but inside, you were unraveling.

by the time you reached your door, your hands were trembling. you fumbled with the keys, cursing under your breath when they slipped from your fingers. picking them up, you took a shaky inhale and forced yourself to steady your grip. just get inside.

the lock clicked. the door swung open. and the moment it shut behind you, the weight of it all crashed down.

a broken sob slipped from your lips before you could stop it. your legs gave out, and you sank to the floor, pressing your back against the door. tears spilled over, hot and relentless, as you buried your face in your knees. your shoulders shook with every quiet sob, the sound muffled in the empty apartment.

you had held it together for so long. but now, there was no one to see. no one to hear.

you had known this day would come. you had prepared yourself for it—at least, you thought you had. but no amount of knowing could have made it hurt any less.

seventeen years. that was how long he had been by your side. longer than some of your friendships, longer than any relationship you'd ever had. he had been there for every scraped knee, every heartbreak, every lonely night you spent crying into his fur. you had practically grown up with him—your childhood, your teenage years.

he was ancient. seventeen, as a reminder. practically immortal by dog standards. he had outlived all expectations, defied every vet’s cautious prognosis. he was ancient, crusty, and had the worst breath imaginable—like a mix of old socks and something you didn’t even want to identify. his teeth were a disaster, barely hanging on in his later years, and he had been blind in one eye for the past three birthdays. and yet, somehow, he had powered through everything.

there had been that one time he ate an entire bag of chocolate chips when he was seven and walked it off like it was nothing. then, at twelve, he somehow got hit by a bicycle and bounced back as if he had merely tripped. at fourteen, he got into a fight with a raccoon over a slice of pizza (and won). he had survived stomach bugs, a tumble down the stairs, and countless other incidents that should have been his undoing. but no—he had refused to go out in some dramatic, action-packed way. 

instead, he had peacefully fallen asleep like the stubborn little shit he was.

he was gone.

you let out a shaky breath, a tear-streaked chuckle slipping past your lips. of course, that’s how he would go. no theatrics, no grand exit. just quietly, in his sleep.

it wasn’t fair, though. he had survived so much—how was he not invincible?

you wiped at your face, but the tears kept coming. you had always known this day would come, but losing him felt like losing a piece of your childhood. 

you hadn’t been there for his last moments. that was what made it worse.

moving out for university had meant leaving him behind, but at the time, it hadn’t felt like a real goodbye. it never even crossed your mind that one day, you’d walk out that door and never see him again. it was impossible to imagine a world where he wasn’t waiting by the door when you came home, tail thumping lazily against the floor, his cloudy old-man eyes lighting up at the sound of your voice.

but time had finally caught up with him, and instead of being there to hold him one last time, instead of pressing your forehead to his like you always did, whispering, you stink, you had gotten the news over the phone.

you hadn’t heard the footsteps. hadn’t noticed the faint creak of the floorboards or the quiet rustle of movement in the room. you had been too lost in your own wreckage, sobs wracking your body as you sat crumpled against the door, drowning in the weight of it all.

but then—something made you look up.

seungmin was standing there, just a few feet away. his eyes were wide, his expression frozen somewhere between confusion and alarm. his lips were parted slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out where to start.

you hadn’t expected him to be here. but of course, he had a spare key. and from the way he was standing there, it was obvious—he had been in the apartment the whole time, long before you walked through the door and completely fell apart.

the realization sent a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over you. you weren’t sure how much he had seen, but judging by the way he was looking at you—like he was seeing you for the first time—you knew it was enough.

seungmin had never seen you like this before.

he had seen you annoyed, frustrated, even stressed to the point of snapping. but never this. never crumpled and shaking on the floor, barely able to catch your breath between sobs. never so completely wrecked that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to throw out a sarcastic remark or tell him to get lost.

and you knew what was about to come.

like the absolute asshole he was, he was going to crack a joke. probably something about how ugly you looked when you cried, or how your face was so red it could stop traffic. any second now, he was going to open his mouth and say the exact wrong thing, because that was just who he was. that was how he dealt with anything remotely emotional—sarcasm first, actual feelings second.

you almost wished he wasn’t there. right now, you had nothing in you to deal with a seungmin-style remark. not today. not when everything already felt like too much.

you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself, but nothing came.

no snarky comment. no teasing jab.

but instead, seungmin walked over to you and he sank to the floor.

he didn’t fidget, didn’t sigh like he was uncomfortable. he just sat there, his body close but not overwhelming, his presence solid and steady. his eyes never left you, his usual sharp, mischievous gaze replaced with something softer, something that made your throat tighten even more.

another sob tore through you, and you curled in on yourself, burying your face in your knees. you felt exposed, raw in a way you had never been before. you weren’t used to this—falling apart in front of someone, letting yourself be seen like this. and seungmin… he wasn’t used to it either.

to him, you were always either a ray of sunshine or a little menace who pinched his cheeks just to annoy him. you were the one who smacked his arm when he teased you, who gave as good as you got. but now? now you were shaking, struggling to catch your breath between broken sobs, completely undone in a way he had never witnessed before.

seungmin hesitated for only a second before reaching out, his hand barely brushing against your back at first—like he was testing the waters, making sure you wouldn’t flinch away. when you didn’t, his touch grew firmer, his palm pressing against the fabric of your shirt as he slowly rubbed circles between your shoulder blades.

your sobs didn’t stop right away. they came in waves—some stronger, some weaker, but always there, shaking through you, making it impossible to catch a steady breath. you tried to quiet them, tried to swallow them down, but your body refused to cooperate.

at some point, you lifted your head, your cheeks damp, your lashes clumped together from tears. seungmin’s hand stilled, but he didn’t pull away.

and then—his eyes met yours.

there was no teasing glint, no smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. just seungmin, staring at you like he was seeing every crack, every broken piece, and accepting them without hesitation.

he didn’t say anything. he didn’t need to.

instead, he gave you the smallest smile—soft, quiet, a silent i’m here.

seungmin let out a slow breath, his fingers pressing just a little firmer against your back, grounding you. his other hand hovered for a second before he reached up, brushing his knuckles gently against your cheek. his touch was warm, deliberate—like he was trying to memorize the shape of you, trying to let you know in the only way he could that you weren’t alone in this.

“you know,” he murmured, his voice quiet but steady, “boyfriends are supposed to help with things like this.”

you blinked at him, your chest still rising and falling unevenly, your throat tight.

“this whole… carrying everything by yourself thing?” he shook his head slightly, his thumb smoothing over your cheekbone. “yeah, i’m not letting you do that.”

your lip trembled.

as if reading your mind, seungmin exhaled, his thumb brushing against your cheek again, slower this time. “you’re allowed to let me be here for you. you know that, right?”

something in you cracked at that.

a fresh wave of tears welled up, and seungmin didn’t even flinch. he just shifted closer, his hand finding yours, threading his fingers through yours, squeezing lightly.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “so cry, tell me to shut up—whatever you need. but don’t shut me out.��

seungmin’s fingers tightened around yours, firm but careful, like he was anchoring you to him without holding on too tight. his eyes never left your face, searching, waiting—until finally, he spoke again.

“come here?”

it wasn’t a command. it wasn’t even a suggestion. just a question, soft and open, giving you the choice.

your breath hitched.

you weren’t used to this. him, like this. and maybe that was what made your throat tighten even more.

you nodded, barely a movement, barely a breath. but it was all he needed.

seungmin let go of your hand only to wrap his arms around you, pulling you in like it was second nature. you barely had time to react before your face was pressed against his shoulder, the warmth of his hoodie soft against your cheek. his arms settled around your back, firm and unyielding, his fingers curling against the fabric of your shirt.

your hands hovered for a second before you clutched at the fabric of his hoodie, gripping tightly, your body still shaking with uneven breaths. seungmin only held you closer, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head.

seungmin didn’t say anything for a long time. he just held you, his fingers tracing absentminded circles against your back, like he was letting you take your time, like he wasn’t in any rush to hear whatever was weighing you down.

but eventually, he shifted slightly, just enough to glance down at you. his voice was quieter now, softer, like he was trying not to break whatever fragile thread was holding you together.

“do you… wanna tell me what happened?”

your throat was tight with the weight of it, and when you swallowed, it felt like trying to force down something solid. you wanted to tell him. you had to tell him. but how were you supposed to say it? how were you supposed to explain why you had completely fallen apart, why your entire body had given out the second you walked through that door?

your heart pounded, your throat burned, and for a moment, you considered lying. saying it was stress, a fight with a friend, anything that made more sense than the truth. you were afraid that he would find it stupid that you were sobbing over your dog who was always on the brink of death.

but you couldn’t keep it in.

your vision blurred again, fresh tears rising as you forced yourself to swallow the lump in your throat.

“my mom called,” you said, barely above a whisper. “after my lecture.”

seungmin said nothing, but you could feel the way his grip on you tightened ever so slightly. he was listening. he was bracing. his jaw tensed. you could see it, the quiet dread settling behind his eyes.

and then, with everything in you screaming to keep it in, you let it out.

“my dog.”

two words. that was all you could get out.

but seungmin understood right away.

his breath hitched—so slight, so subtle, but you caught it. his fingers stopped moving against your back, and when he blinked, it was slow, like the weight of what you had just said was pressing into him, too.

“oh.” his voice was quieter now. 

you knew what he was thinking.

this was stupid. it was just a dog. people lost pets all the time. you weren’t supposed to cry like this, to feel like something inside you had been ripped away.

frustration bubbled up through the grief, your throat tightening even more. you pulled back slightly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeve as you forced out, “i know it’s dumb.” your voice was thick, shaking. “but i grew up with him, seungmin. what am i supposed to do—just smile and move on?”

his brows furrowed instantly. “no—”

“i mean, it’s just a dog, right?” you let out a bitter, shaky laugh, but it barely even sounded like you. “that’s what you think. that i’m being dramatic, that it shouldn’t hurt this bad—”

“no, no, no—what?” his hands tightened around yours, his voice firm now, almost urgent. “y/n, don’t even—”

you froze.

his expression had shifted completely—no teasing, no softness diluted by hesitation. just pure, unwavering certainty.

“you have every right to feel like this,” he said, his voice steady, his grip grounding. “this isn’t stupid. you aren’t stupid.” his brows pulled together slightly, and for a second, he looked almost upset—not at you, but for you. “you loved him. of course it hurts.”

your breath hitched.

seungmin was looking at you like your grief mattered, like it was valid.

you didn’t know what to do with that.

a fresh wave of emotion crashed over you, tangled and overwhelming, pressing into your ribs until you could barely breathe. your fingers curled against his wrist, gripping onto him like he was the only thing keeping you from unraveling completely.

“i don’t know, seungmin,” you whispered, your voice barely holding together. “i just—” your throat tightened. “i don’t know.”

his face softened, but he didn’t rush to fill the silence. he just waited, his presence steady, unwavering.

your chest ached. everything ached.

your next breath came out shakier than the last. “i’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice breaking. “i—”

“hey.” his hands shifted, firm but gentle, like he could hold you together if he just held on tight enough. “none of that.”

you swallowed hard, but the lump in your throat refused to go away.

“don’t be sorry,” he said, quieter this time.

you sniffled, shaking your head as you wiped at your face with the sleeve of his hoodie. “i don’t even know why i’m crying so much,” you mumbled, voice thick and uneven. “it’s just—he was so old, you know? like, ancient. i should’ve been ready for this.”

seungmin didn’t say anything right away. he just watched you, his expression unreadable but steady.

“i mean, seventeen years? that’s… that’s insane for a dog,” you continued, half-laughing through your tears. “he was supposed to go out dramatically—choking on something stupid or picking a fight with another raccoon, not just…” your breath hitched. “not just fall asleep and never wake up.”

“i used to joke about this all the time.” you sniffled, rubbing at your nose. “like, literally all the time. i’d always say ‘on my dog’s life’ like it wasn’t a big deal, and now—” your voice wavered, and you took a shaky breath. “now i can’t say that anymore.”

seungmin exhaled sharply and nodded. “yeah. you did say that a lot.”

you groaned, leaning back against the door and covering your face with your hands. “god, that’s so messed up.” you exhaled sharply, rubbing your temples. “i don’t know, seungmin. i don’t even know why i’m crying this much. i really really knew this was coming.”

seungmin tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to read between the lines. “so what?”

you blinked at him. “what?”

“so what if you knew it was coming?” he shrugged, shifting so that he was leaning a little closer. “that doesn’t mean it’s supposed to hurt any less.”

you let out another wobbly breath, staring down at your hands. your fingers still trembled slightly, the weight of everything pressing down on your chest.

seungmin sighed and reached out, hesitating for just a second before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “you don’t have to justify why you’re sad,” he said quietly. “you loved him. of course this sucks.”

you swallowed, your throat tight again. “yeah, but it’s not like he was—” you paused, exhaling. “it’s not like he was a person.”

seungmin’s lips pressed together, and for a second, he just looked at you. then, shaking his head slightly, he said, “so what?”

you huffed. “you keep saying that.”

“because you keep acting like you need a reason to be upset.” he gave you a pointed look. “you don’t. he was family. that’s all the reason you need.”

your breath caught.

family.

you hadn’t said it yourself, but hearing seungmin say it so plainly—like it wasn’t even up for debate—made your chest ache even more.

you bit your lip, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, but it was useless. your vision blurred again, and before you could stop yourself, you were crying all over again.

“gosh, i hate this,” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. “i hate crying this much.”

seungmin exhaled through his nose, then—before you could react—he reached out and flicked your forehead.

you yelped, your hands flying up to rub the spot where he’d hit you. “ow! what the hell, seungmin?”

he just raised an eyebrow at you. “you hate crying, but you’re crying anyway. so what’s the point of hating it?”

you glared at him through your tears. “what kind of messed-up logic is that?”

“the kind that makes you stop talking nonsense.” he leaned back against the wall, stretching his arms behind his head. “look, if you’re gonna cry, then cry. don’t fight it.”

you sniffled, pouting. “easy for you to say. you don’t cry.”

seungmin scoffed. “that’s not true. you think just ‘cause i’m a boy, i don’t cry?” he shot you a fake offended look, crossing his arms. “that’s kinda sexist, don’t you think?”

you rolled your eyes, sniffling. “no, that’s not i meant. you’re just… seungmin. that’s why”

seungmin tilted his head, lips pressing together. for a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. “well, i’ll tell you right now… looking at you like this is making me kinda—”

but he stopped.

your breath hitched. “what?”

“nothing.”

“seungmin.”

“drop it.” he huffed, looking away so fast it was almost comical.

and that’s when you saw it—the telltale redness creeping up his ears, the way his eyes looked just a little too glossy, like he was barely holding it together.

your mouth parted slightly. “wait, seriously?”

seungmin exhaled sharply through his nose. “don’t push it.”

but you weren’t even teasing anymore. you just stared at him, chest tightening, because somehow, knowing that he was feeling this with you—that this was hurting him, too—made the grief just a little more bearable.

you exhaled softly, the last of your resistance slipping away as you leaned against him, your head resting against his shoulder. seungmin didn’t move at first, but then—slowly, almost hesitantly—he turned back to look at you.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. you just sat there, breathing, the weight of everything settling between you. then, without a word, he shifted slightly and rested his head against yours, his warmth pressing into you in a way that made your throat tighten all over again.

you felt him move, just barely, and when you glanced up, you caught the way he wiped at his eye with the sleeve of his hoodie—like he was trying to be discreet about it. like he wasn’t supposed to be feeling this much either.

the realization hit you all at once: you and seungmin, two of the world’s most unserious people, were sitting here—silent, exhausted, crying into each other.

and somehow… it didn’t feel sad. at least, not just sad.

it felt real.

it felt like something deeper than grief, something bigger than just missing your dog.

it felt like you weren’t alone.

"please never leave me," you whispered, your voice barely a thread, fragile, like you're afraid if you speak too loudly it might shatter something between you two.

he tilted his head, his expression gentle, but there’s an edge of confusion in his eyes. “why would you ever think i’d leave you?” he asked, his voice calm and steady.

but you couldn’t stop the words that rush out next. they spilled from you in a torrent, raw and vulnerable, as if you were confessing something you’ve been holding inside for too long. "it’s only a matter of time before you die too. everyone is going to leave. i don’t want—” your voice cracked. “i don’t want anyone to leave.”

seungmin didn’t say anything. his silence wasn’t empty—it was heavy, filled with something unspoken, something that lingered between you like the last notes of a song fading into quiet.

“can i just… go first? like—die.”

seungmin stilled beside you. his head turned, his gaze sharp, his expression unreadable. for a second, he didn’t say anything—just studied you, like he was trying to figure out if you were joking.

then, he scoffed. “no.”

you blinked, startled by how immediate and certain he sounded. “what do you mean, ‘no’?”

“i mean no. that’s dumb. don’t say stuff like that.”

your chest tightened, and your fingers curled harder into the fabric of your sleeves. “but i wouldn’t be able to handle it if i didn’t,” you murmured. “if i had to be the one left behind. i just—” you took a shaky breath. “i don’t want to be the one who has to keep going without everyone else.”

seungmin’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. he just sat there, letting your words settle in the quiet between you.

then, with a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “do you think i would?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

you hesitated. “…what?”

he turned his head slightly, glancing at you. “do you think i’d be fine if you went first?”

the question caught you off guard. you stared at him, struggling to process the idea, the weight of it pressing against your ribs.

seungmin let out a soft, humorless laugh. “you’re not special, you know.” his voice wasn’t harsh, but there was something sharp underneath it. “you think you’re the only one who’d be wrecked? you think i’d just—what, move on?”

your breath caught.

“don’t be stupid,” he muttered, shaking his head. “i’d be pissed. and sad. and probably really, really pissed at everyone around me.” he huffed. “so no, you can’t go first. because i don’t want to deal with that.”

you stared at him, your throat tight. “seungmin—”

“too bad,” he interrupted, like that was the end of the discussion. then, softer, “you’re not leaving me either.”

you let out a small, breathy laugh against his hoodie. “god,” you mumbled, voice still thick with the remnants of your crying. “how are you so bad at comforting, ” you sniffled, shifting slightly against him. “but… somehow, i feel better anyway.”

there was a beat of silence before you felt his chest rise with a quiet sigh. “sounds like a you problem.”

your lips parted in disbelief. “are you serious right now?”

he hummed, completely unfazed. “you’ve just got bad taste in comfort.”

you pulled back slightly, just enough to glare up at him. “that’s not a thing, you ass.”

he raised an eyebrow. “then explain why you’re still clinging to me.”

your face heated, but you refused to let him win. “because i need it. and you just—” you swallowed, your fingers tightening slightly around the fabric of his hoodie. “happen to be here.”

you exhaled softly and, without thinking, slumped forward, resting your head against seungmin’s chest. his hoodie was warm, the fabric slightly worn, and beneath it, you could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in. his chin rested lightly on top of your head, and his hand found the small of your back.

seungmin blinked at you, then—without warning—let out a quiet laugh. it wasn’t mocking, not really, just a small, breathy chuckle. “why are we like this?” he asked, shaking his head slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes.

you frowned. “like what?”

“like…” he gestured vaguely between the two of you. “this. one second, we’re crying, and the next, you’re calling me an ass. it’s weird.”

you huffed. “it’s not weird.”

seungmin gave you a pointed look.

“…okay, maybe a little,” you admitted, sniffling. “but i don’t know. it just works.” you hesitated for a moment, your fingers still curled into the fabric of his hoodie. then, softer this time, you murmured, “and i don’t want that to change.”

seungmin stilled slightly, his head tilting just enough for him to look down at you. his expression wasn’t teasing anymore—just calm, steady. “it won’t.” then, without any hesitation, seungmin added, “as long as you know i love you.”

your breath caught, warmth spreading through your chest. you looked up at him, surprised but not really, because of course he’d say it like that—so casual, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

and maybe it was.

you exhaled softly smiling slightly, then leaned up just enough to bump your forehead lightly against his. “i love you too.”

then, before you could process it, he leaned in and kissed you.

it wasn’t rushed or urgent—just slow, steady, like he had all the time in the world. like this was something he’d thought about before but never quite let himself do until now. his hand found your cheek, fingers warm against your skin, tilting your face just enough to deepen the kiss.

you melted into him without thinking, your hands gripping the front of his hoodie to keep yourself grounded. the warmth of him, the quiet steadiness of the moment—it made your chest ache.

when he finally pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, you let out a soft, shaky breath.

“i’m glad you found me like this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

seungmin didn’t hesitate. “i’ll always find you.”

your chest tightened, something deep and aching curling in your ribs. you opened your eyes to meet his, and for once, there was no teasing, no playful sarcasm—just him, just seungmin, looking at you like you were something worth holding onto.

“i mean it,” he continued, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “no matter what. no matter where. i’ll always be with you.”

you let out a quiet breath before he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. then, he pulled you in again, arms wrapping around you like he could shield you from the world, like he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

and for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him.

epilogue.

the scent of vanilla lingered in seungmin’s room at the dorm, mingling with the faint chill of february air slipping in through the window. the soft glow of fairy lights bathed everything in a golden hue, casting flickering shadows against the walls. it should’ve felt like any other night. but it didn’t.

because you were here with him.

seungmin turned the baseball cap over in his hands, his fingers tracing the stitching of a little heart next to his name. it was his present for valentine’s day, simple and classic—just his style. you’d been nervous about whether he’d actually like it, but judging by the way he kept admiring it, you had nothing to worry about.

“this is so nice,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. his thumb brushed over the small embroidered heart hidden on the inside, and a slow, satisfied smile tugged at his lips. “really nice.”

your stomach did an embarrassing little flip. “you like it?”

seungmin scoffed, glancing up at you with a look that made your breath catch. “obviously.”

and then, with that effortless ease of his, he slipped it onto his head—backwards, of course. like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. like he knew that the casual way he ran a hand through his dark hair, adjusting the fit, was going to make your heart trip over itself.

you swallowed. hard.

“that’s not how you’re supposed to wear it,” you muttered, if only to distract yourself.

seungmin let out a soft laugh, adjusting the cap one more time before pushing off his desk.

you barely had time to process the way he closed the space between you before he was kissing you—soft, sure, like it was second nature. his hands found your waist, tugging you just a little closer, and you barely managed to catch your breath before melting into him.

when he pulled back, his lips still ghosting over yours, he murmured, “thank you, y/n.”

your heart squeezed at the sincerity in his voice. you met his gaze, your hands still gripping the fabric of his sweater. “of course,” you whispered.

his lips curled into a smile. “you ready for yours?” seungmin took a step back, tilting his head toward the door. “come on,” he said, nodding for you to follow.

you frowned. “where are we going?”

he didn’t answer, just grabbed your wrist gently and tugged you along. his grip was warm, steady, and despite your confusion, you let him lead you out of your room and into the dimly lit hallway.

before you could ask again, from felix’s room, you heard a hushed, “shh.”

you blinked, confused, and turned to seungmin. without a word, he nudged the door open, and the sight inside made your breath catch. felix was crouched on the floor, his hands cradling the tiniest, cutest puppy you had ever seen. 

a soft golden ball of fur with round eyes blinked up at felix, its tiny nose twitching as it snuggled closer into him. the moment it spotted movement, its little tail wagged.

your heart squeezed, and you gasped, stepping forward on instinct. “oh my goodness.”

felix grinned while walking over to you, then carefully—almost reverently—placed the tiny puppy in your arms. you barely processed the movement, too busy marveling at the warmth and softness of the small body now curled against your chest.

“oh my goodness,” you whispered again, cradling the little thing like it was made of glass. the puppy let out a tiny sigh, its nose nudging your sweater, already settling into you like it belonged there. you tore your gaze away just long enough to look up at him. “he’s perfect. he looks just like—”

felix nodded. “seungmin made sure of that.” he glanced over at seungmin, who was standing beside you with his hands in his pockets, watching your reaction with a satisfied smirk. “i don’t think you realize how picky he was about this whole thing.”

you blinked, looking at seungmin in surprise. “really?”

felix scoffed. “oh, absolutely. he made me visit like five different places with him just to find one that looked exactly like your old dog.”

your heart squeezed. you looked back down at the puppy, feeling an overwhelming rush of emotion. you turned to him, eyes soft. “you did that?”

seungmin rolled his eyes, like he was trying to play it off, but his ears were tinged pink. “well, yeah. i wasn’t gonna get you just any dog.”

you let out a soft laugh, still in awe. “i can’t believe you.”

felix then chimed in. “he’s got a ton of energy, you’re gonna have your hands full.”

you glanced down at the puppy, who was now settled in your arms, and smiled. “i don’t mind.”

felix grinned. “didn’t think you would.” he patted seungmin on the shoulder before stepping toward the door. “alright, i’ll leave you to it.”

you looked up. “felix, seriously. thank you.”

felix waved a hand. “yeah, yeah, just make sure seungmin doesn’t pretend he did all the work.” he shot seungmin a pointed look before slipping out of the room, leaving you alone with him—and your new puppy.

overwhelmed, you looked up at seungmin, your heart racing. he was watching you with that familiar, amused expression, lips twitching before he rolled his eyes.

“happy valentine’s day, you freak.”

you made a sound that wasn’t quite human, still in shock. “thank you, thank you, thank you! i love him!”

seungmin barely had time to react before you surged forward, wrapping your arm around him—careful not to squish the tiny dog between you. you pressed a quick, eager kiss to his lips, catching him slightly off guard, but he recovered fast, letting out a small laugh against your mouth.

“you’re so welcome,” he murmured, his hands finding your waist.

still buzzing with excitement, you pulled back just enough to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. he smelled warm and familiar—like fresh laundry and something unmistakably him.

“i can’t believe you did this,” you whispered against his skin, voice thick with emotion. “you’re actually the best.”

seungmin scoffed, though his grip on you tightened. “obviously.”

“i don’t know how to thank you,” you murmured.

he shrugged, his fingers slipping under the hem of your sweater, just barely grazing your skin. “just don’t forget who your favorite is.”

you blinked, then smirked. “between you and the dog?” seungmin gave you a warning look, but you only hummed playfully, tapping your chin like you were seriously debating it. “i mean… he’s really cute, seungmin.”

seungmin narrowed his eyes, pulling back slightly. “alright, that’s it. i’m returning him.”

your jaw dropped. “what? no!” you clutched the tiny puppy closer to your chest protectively, like seungmin was actually about to pry him from your arms.

“take it back,” he demanded, arms crossing over his chest.

you blinked at him, tilting your head slightly, all wide eyes and innocence. “take what back?”

seungmin inhaled sharply, as if willing himself to be patient. “don’t play with me, y/n.”

you barely held back a grin, feigning confusion. “i’m sorry minnie, i really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were doing this. “last chance,” he muttered, stepping closer.

you bit your lip, letting the anticipation build. then, just to push your luck a little further, you whispered, “never.” you giggled, reaching out to poke his cheek.

seungmin swatted your hand away. “i surprised you with the cutest valentine’s day gift ever, and you’re over here debating whether the dog is better than me.”

still cradling the sleepy puppy, you tilted your head, grinning. “you’re really worked up over this, huh?”

“i am not—” seungmin cut himself off, exhaling sharply before dragging a hand down his face. then, quieter, he muttered, “i just want to hear you say it.”

your heart clenched at how utterly serious he sounded, despite the dramatic display.

softening, you reached out, wrapping your free arm around his beck and pulling him close. “you are, you idiot,” you murmured against his chest.

seungmin stilled against you for a moment before pulling back just enough to look at you, his expression unreadable. “i’m what?”

you blinked up at him, already biting back a smile. “my favorite.”

his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to decide whether you were messing with him again. “say it again.”

you rolled your eyes but indulged him anyway, pressing a hand against his chest. “you’re my favorite, seungmin.”

a slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. “damn right, i am.”

you huffed, laughing softly. “god, you’re so annoying.”

seungmin rolled his eyes like you were being slow on purpose. “i love you too, idiot.”

you opened your mouth to argue—just out of sheer principle—but he kissed you before you could, effectively shutting you up.

and, really, you weren’t complaining

[pixiefelixie]

𓆝..°°𓈒 ⋆ (필릭스) : REMEMBER THIS SUMMER "FRIDAY" MDNI!!!

𓆉 °°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ synopsis felix is living the summer every teenager dreams of, with a perfect beach house on the east coast of australia and an even more perfect girlfriend. by taking the best of both worlds, felix invites her to experience the world he grew up in to make this the best summer ever. amidst bonfires, romantic sunsets, and seagulls, felix has one goal this summer: to finally tell her he loves her. with just one week to do so, felix is met with a challenge to make his feelings known before time runs out. 

pairing: nonidol!felix x fem!reader, series warnings: this work is NSFW so minors do not interact!, established relationship, fluff, angsty chapter important notes: The content of this work is purely fictional and is not intended to endorse or encourage any behavior, especially among minors, that may be deemed inappropriate or unsafe. This story is created solely for entertainment purposes and should be understood as fiction. Reader discretion is advised.

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nsfw warnings and chapter under the cut ~17k words

warnings: underaged sex, non-penetrative, suggestive themes, making out, marking, dry humping, orgasm under clothes

day 6 - 8:00

the first thing you felt was warmth.

it wrapped around you like a soft cocoon, the heat radiating from the body pressed against yours, steady and unwavering. your cheek was resting against smooth skin, your fingers curled lightly against felix’s bare chest, rising and falling with his slow, even breaths. the room was still bathed in the quiet hush of early morning, the air cool, but his warmth surrounded you, keeping you nestled in a pocket of comfort.

blinking sleepily, you stirred just a little, enough to lift your gaze without moving too much. felix was awake, his head resting against the pillow just inches from yours, his eyes slightly focused on the screen of his phone. he held it out in front of him with one arm, his fingers scrolling lazily. his other arm was still wrapped securely around you, his palm resting against your back.

you stayed still for a moment, just watching him. his hair was a mess of soft waves, tousled from sleep, the strands falling slightly over his forehead. his lips were slightly parted, and his skin carried the warmth of sleep, golden in the early-morning light. 

you sighed softly, the breath leaving your lips in a slow exhale as warmth settled deep in your chest. without thinking, you shifted slightly, your arm sliding up and wrapping gently around felix’s waist, pulling yourself closer to him. his skin was warm beneath your touch, radiating heat that felt grounding, safe.

at the movement, felix blinked down at you, his scrolling pausing entirely. a small smile tugged at his lips as he locked his phone, setting it aside without hesitation. his attention was fully on you now, his gaze soft and full of something unreadable—something deep. you hoped it was love.

“good morning,” he murmured, his morning voice raspy, still husky around the edges.

you smiled up at him, eyes barely open, sleep still tugging at your limbs. “good morning.”

everything felt so domestic, so natural. felix’s fingers traced light patterns against your back, his hand still resting securely against you, and you let your body melt into his warmth.

“that was the best sleep i’ve ever had,” you murmured, your voice soft but sincere, your cheek still pressed against his bare chest.

felix let out a quiet chuckle, his chest vibrating gently beneath you. “yeah?” 

you nodded, letting your fingers trace slow, absentminded circles against his skin. “mhm. thank you.”

felix’s gaze softened even more, his eyes flickering down to your lips, and before you could even process it, he was leaning in. the warmth of his breath fanned against your skin for a split second before his lips brushed against yours—soft, slow, deliberate.

but then, as your brain finally caught up with what was happening, your eyes widened slightly, and you pulled back just an inch, pressing your palm lightly against his chest.

“i didn’t brush my teeth,” you mumbled, half embarrassed, half amused.

felix just chuckled, low and lazy, his arms tightening around you as if to keep you from even thinking about moving away. his forehead bumped gently against yours, his smile never fading.

“mm,” he hummed, his voice still thick with sleep, “but you’re always as clean as…” he trailed off, eyes twinkling with playful mischief as he pretended to search for the right words.

you raised an eyebrow, waiting. “as what?”

felix’s lips quirked into a grin before he finally finished, “as a fresh-out-the-shower angel.”

you let out a laugh, shaking your head. “that’s the worst comparison ever.”

felix only smirked, pulling you even closer until your bodies were completely pressed together. “you’re mean,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours. 

your laughter faded into a smile, soft and full, as you looked up at felix. you closed the small distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a slow, deliberate kiss. felix responded instantly. his breath hitched slightly, but then he melted into you, his lips molding against yours in a way that felt utterly natural, utterly right.

felix’s lips moved against yours with an aching slowness, the kind that made your stomach tighten and your skin tingle. the kiss was warm, deep, and deliberate. his lips were so soft, perfectly against yours, and parting just enough to let you taste the heat of him. every slow drag, every slight tilt of his head sent a fresh wave of warmth cascading down your spine, pooling low in your stomach.

his hand, still cradling the side of your face, tilted your chin just slightly, giving him better access as he deepened the kiss. his thumb traced delicate circles just beneath your jaw, coaxing you to relax, to melt further into him. his breath was warm, mixing with yours, and every slight shift of his lips sent another pulse of sensation through you, another flicker of electricity that made you lightheaded with the sheer intensity of it.

"you deserve everything," he whispered against your mouth between kisses, voice firm like it was an undeniable truth. his hand slid down to your waist, fingers pressing just enough to make your stomach tighten. "i hope you know that."

his fingers spread slightly, palm pressing firmly as he mapped the shape of you, lingering just at the dip of your waist before traveling lower. the heat of his touch bled through the thin fabric of your shirt, making your stomach clench, your breath hitch ever so slightly against his mouth.

felix smirked against your lips, as if he could feel the way your body responded to him. his fingers grazed your hip, tightening briefly before he continued his path downward, his palm gliding over the outer curve of your thigh. his touch was slow, teasing, deliberate. he traced light, absentminded strokes down your leg, fingertips grazing over your skin in a way that sent goosebumps rippling up your arms.

without thinking—without even meaning to—you lifted your leg just slightly, an unconscious invitation. felix reacted instantly. his grip on your thigh firmed, his fingers pressing into the softness of your skin, and in one smooth, effortless motion, he scooped your leg up and hooked it over his hip.

a shiver ran through you at the motion, at the effortless way he handled you. butterflies erupted in your stomach, a wild fluttering that made your breath catch, made your head spin. the new position pressed you even closer against him, the heat of his body seeping into every inch of you.

felix groaned softly against your lips, his grip tightening on your thigh, his other hand slipping back to your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as if grounding himself. his lips parted against yours again, and he kissed you deeper, slower, his tongue brushing teasingly against yours before pulling back just enough to make you chase him. his fingers traced slow, lingering patterns along your thigh where he held it in place, his touch sending another wave of warmth curling through you.

your heart was pounding, each beat echoing through your body, your senses drowning in the feel of him—the way he held you close, the way his hands moved over you with careful, deliberate reverence, the way his lips pressed against yours with a slow-burning hunger that sent heat coiling low in your stomach.

felix felt like he was sinking—drowning in you, in the warmth of your body against his, in the way your lips moved with such effortless tenderness against his own. he didn’t want this to end. not this moment, not this morning, not this feeling. he wanted to wake up every day to this—to you curled against his chest, to the lazy heat of your body pressed against his, to your lips parting so willingly beneath his own.

and the way you responded to him… it was making him weak. every little shift, every subtle press of your body against his, the way your fingers trembled slightly as they splayed across his bare chest—it was unraveling him piece by piece. he could feel it in the way your breath hitched when his fingers flexed against your waist, in the way you lifted your leg just a little more, pressing yourself closer to him, your thigh hooked over his hip as if you never wanted to let go.

felix could feel it happening, creeping up on him like a slow, inevitable tide. his body’s betrayal to himself, exposing just how much he wanted you. heat flooded felix’s face, spreading down his neck, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration knotting in his chest. his throat felt tight, his pulse hammering, each beat thick with tension. his pulse thundered in his ears, his breaths coming just a little heavier against your lips as he fought to keep himself composed. don’t get hard.

but his body didn’t give a damn what his brain wanted. it was already happening, the stiff pressure growing against the fabric of his sweatpants, making his whole body tense. he squeezed his eyes shut, as if willing it to disappear, as if sheer force of will could stop the way his body was responding to you.

the way you were kissing him, soft and unhurried, completely lost in the moment—it meant you probably hadn’t felt it yet. yet. he had to do something. anything.

and because he was a certified idiot, his next move sealed his fate.

felix reached down, slow and subtle, trying to adjust himself—just a quick shift to make sure it wasn’t as noticeable. but the moment his fingers brushed against the fabric, against the already uncomfortable strain pressing against his pants, he realized he had just made it ten times worse.

his entire body went rigid, and just as he was internally cursing at himself, you suddenly stilled against him.

the kiss stopped.

everything stopped.

you pulled back just enough to look at him, brows furrowing slightly, and in the soft morning quiet, your voice came out hesitant.

the second that hesitant uh left your lips, a sharp jolt of dread shot through him, coiling around his ribs, squeezing tight. felix’s throat felt tight, his pulse hammering against his skin, each frantic beat echoing the sharp spike of panic clawing through his chest. his fingers flexed against his waistband as if he could somehow will the situation away, erase the last five seconds, undo the unbearable heat of getting caught.

his breath hitched, and then—"i’m sorry," he blurted, voice hoarse, strained.

the moment the words left his lips, he moved, trying to scramble out of your grasp, his body tense, desperate to escape the weight of his own embarrassment. his hands fumbled against the sheets, his movements jerky, uncoordinated, like he didn’t even know what to do with himself.

but before he could pull away, you caught him.

your hands found his shoulders, your fingers gripping just enough to hold him there, to stop him from retreating. the warmth of your touch seared into his skin, grounding, steady. his body went rigid beneath you, his chest rising and falling too fast, the heat in his face unbearable.

"it’s okay," you murmured, voice soft, firm, so goddamn gentle it made his stomach twist even tighter.

felix let out a sharp breath, his jaw clenching, his fingers curling into the sheets beside him. his heart was slamming against his ribs, his body locked in place, caught between wanting to believe you and the sheer, suffocating embarrassment threatening to swallow him whole.

"fuck," he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. his eyes squeezed shut, his brows knitting together, frustration and mortification tangled in the tightness of his expression. "i just—"

your fingers tightened slightly against his shoulders, grounding him, keeping him there. felix’s breath was shallow, his chest rising and falling too quickly, his entire body wound tight like a live wire. the heat radiating from him wasn’t just warmth anymore—it was something else entirely. something that made the air between you feel charged, electric, humming with a tension that neither of you knew quite how to navigate.

"felix," you murmured, your voice soft, but sure.

his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching. he still wouldn’t look at you. his eyes were squeezed shut, his hands curled into the sheets, his whole body rigid with tension. but he didn’t move away. he didn’t pull back. he stayed.

you shifted slightly, your fingers tracing soothing circles against his skin, feeling the way his muscles twitched beneath your touch. his body was betraying him, every inch of him caught between the unbearable weight of embarrassment and the undeniable truth of how much he wanted you.

"look at me," you whispered.

a muscle in his jaw ticked. he hesitated. but then, slowly—so fucking slowly—his lashes lifted, and his gaze met yours.

his eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, his irises caught somewhere between desperation and restraint. he looked wrecked. completely undone. and fuck, if that didn’t send another pulse of heat straight to your core.

"it’s okay," you repeated, softer this time, your voice carrying the weight of quiet understanding.

felix let out a breath, shaky, uneven. "it’s not," he rasped, his fingers twitching where they gripped the sheets. "i didn’t—i wasn’t trying to—"

"i know," you cut in gently, your hands sliding up his shoulders, fingertips tracing lightly over the curve of his neck. his pulse thundered beneath your touch, hammering against his skin like a drumbeat.

felix’s breath came out in a ragged sigh, his fingers twitching against the sheets like they couldn’t decide whether to let go or hold on for dear life. his cheeks were flushed a deep pink, spreading down to his neck, and his eyes flitted anywhere but at you, as though maybe if he didn’t see you looking at him, this whole situation would just vanish into thin air.

felix swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he tried—and failed—to steady himself. his grip on the sheets twitched, his body still caught between the lingering embarrassment and the undeniable heat simmering beneath his skin. 

a slow, breathy chuckle left his lips, his fingers finally releasing their death grip on the sheets as he let his head fall back against the pillow. "man," he sighed, voice still rough around the edges, but now laced with something playful. "this is the worst way to start a morning, huh?"

you blinked at him, taken aback for half a second before a small, surprised laugh bubbled out of you. "it’s only bad if you make it bad," you mused, tilting your head slightly. 

he chuckled, the sound low, his hand on your hip squeezing just the slightest bit. a beat of silence stretched between you, filled only by the soft sounds of your breathing, the lingering weight of everything that had just happened.

"i mean…" your voice was barely above a whisper, shy, and felix stilled instantly. his fingers paused against your hip, his expression shifting as his eyes flickered up to meet yours. your stomach twisted, nerves and something deeper intertwining as you forced yourself to hold his gaze. "if you want, we could… try something."

felix didn’t move for a second.

his breath hitched.

his grip on your hip tightened just a little, but he said nothing—just stared at you, like he was trying to make sure he hadn’t misheard you, like he was waiting for you to say it again just to be sure.

felix’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. "you…" he exhaled, shaking his head slightly as if he was trying to clear it. "you wanna…?"

your cheeks burned, heat spreading down your neck, but you nodded, your fingers curling slightly against his shoulders. "i mean, we’ve talked about it." the words felt heavy and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected.

felix’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening on your hip, his other hand still resting beside your thigh, warm and steady. his expression softened—not in pity, not in hesitation, but in something else entirely. something that made your stomach flutter, made your chest feel tight in the best possible way.

"you don’t have to—"

"i want to," you interrupted, your voice firmer this time, sure. "i… i trust you."

that did something to him. you saw it in the way his lips parted slightly, in the way his pupils darkened, the way his whole body tensed before softening beneath your touch. his jaw twitched, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns along your hip as he let your words settle in.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, but it wasn’t awkward—it was heavy, thick with something unspoken, something electric. felix wet his lips, exhaling slowly before tilting his head slightly. "okay," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "okay."

your heart pounded, anticipation curling through you, leaving your limbs tingling. the reality of this moment, of what you were both admitting to, settled in your chest like a slow, rolling wave.

felix’s hand slid up slightly, his thumb brushing over your ribs, just beneath the hem of your shirt. the touch was light, teasing, barely there, but it sent a shiver racing down your spine. "we don’t have to rush," he murmured, his voice softer now, lower. "we figure it out together, yeah?"

you nodded, your fingers tracing the curve of his shoulder, the warmth of his skin beneath your touch grounding you. "yeah," you whispered. “we can try something that’ll make us both feel good.”

felix exhaled sharply, something between relief and something else, something deeper. and then—slowly, carefully—he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours again, softer this time, unhurried.

"yeah?" his voice was even lower now. “like what?" 

your stomach twisted, heat curling at the base of your spine as you bit your lip, trying to push past the shyness creeping up your throat. you weren’t sure why it felt so hard to just say it outright—maybe because it felt so intimate, so deliberate, like stepping over an invisible line neither of you had ever crossed before.

you swallowed, shifting slightly against him, feeling the way his breath hitched at the movement.

felix’s breath stalled in his throat the second you moved. his fingers twitched against your waist as you reached for the covers, slowly peeling them back, the cool air of the room washing over both of you. his gaze followed your every movement, dark eyes flickering with something heavy, something deep, as you shifted, lifting yourself just enough to climb over him.

he didn’t stop you.

didn’t even breathe.

his hands hovered near your hips, like he was fighting the urge to grab hold of you, like he wanted to let you lead.

felix was wrecked. completely, utterly, devastatingly wrecked.

the moment you settled over him,  straddling his waist, something in his chest clenched so tight it hurt. his breath hitched, and he knew—knew—that he was beyond saving.

you looked unreal.

like something he wasn’t meant to touch.

like something too soft, too good, too—fuck.

the floral tank top clung to your frame, the soft fabric brushing against your skin, rising just slightly where it met your matching thin shorts. golden morning light kissed every inch of you, tracing over your skin like it worshiped you, pooling in the dip of your collarbone, sliding down the curves of your thighs where your shorts rode up just slightly. your hair was still tousled from sleep, loose strands falling over your face, and your lips—plush, swollen from his kisses—parted slightly as you exhaled. you were staring down at him with those eyes, those goddamn eyes, and he felt like he was unraveling beneath your gaze.

heat crept up your neck, the intensity of his stare sending a shiver through you, but you didn’t look away. instead, you slowly lowered yourself, hovering just above him, your hands resting lightly against his bare chest.

"just… like this," you murmured, your fingers brushing lightly against his side. “just… feeling each other."

felix blinked.

it took half a second for the realization to settle in, but when it did, something in his expression shifted—his lips parted slightly, his fingers twitching against your hip, his jaw tensing like he was processing it all at once.

and then, slowly, his face softened.

a slow, knowing smile spread across his lips, but there was nothing cocky about it—just warmth, understanding, something safe. "you sure?" he murmured, his thumb rubbing soft circles against your hip bone.

you nodded, heart pounding. "it’s… safer. right?"

felix exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head just a little. "yeah. yeah, it is." his fingers flexed against your skin, his voice turning softer, more serious. 

felix studied you for a long moment, his fingers resting lightly against your waist, the warmth of his touch steady, grounding. his expression was softer now, the teasing edge from earlier fading into something deeper, something more careful. his eyes searched yours, dark and full of things left unspoken.

"you’re okay with this?" his voice was quiet, low, like he wanted to make sure, one last time, that this was something you truly wanted.

your heart pounded, warmth creeping up your neck, but you didn’t hesitate.

"i trust you, felix."

that was all he needed.

his breath hitched, his fingers tightening against your waist for the briefest second, and then a slow exhale left his lips, something easing in his expression. his eyes softened, and then—he nodded. just once.

and that was all you needed.

a small smile tugged at your lips, your hands resting against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your palms. felix’s own lips curled slightly, matching your expression, and then you moved—shifting your weight just enough to lower yourself down against him, pressing your body flush against his.

and that was when you felt it. the hard, undeniable pressure nestled right between your legs, separated only by the thin fabric of your shorts and his sweatpants.

both of you sucked in a sharp breath.

your entire body went rigid, heat rushing to your face as the realization hit you all at once. the pressure, the warmth, the way your pulse pounded between your thighs—it was overwhelming. immediate. your hands clenched slightly against his chest, your body tensing instinctively at the unexpected intensity of it all.

felix’s reaction was just as instant.

his breath stuttered, his fingers digging slightly into your waist, his body stiffening beneath you. a low, barely-there sound caught in his throat, a mix between a sharp inhale and a quiet groan, quickly swallowed down.

your face burned. the heat creeping up your neck felt unbearable, too much. you ducked your head, pressing your face into the curve of his neck, your breath warm against his skin, your body going still against him.

felix’s chest rose sharply beneath you. his hands twitched on your hips.

"...are you okay?" his voice was soft, careful, a little breathless.

you nodded against his neck, but your voice was small when you mumbled, "don’t want you to look at me."

a quiet chuckle rumbled through felix’s chest, deep and warm, and he squeezed your waist just slightly, fingers trailing light, reassuring patterns against your skin.

"that’s okay," he murmured, amusement laced in his voice, but no teasing—just understanding, just him letting you be in this moment however you needed to be.

you exhaled slowly against his neck, letting yourself relax against him, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his pulse beneath your lips. felix’s hands on your hips were steady, firm, holding you there, grounding you. he didn’t rush, didn’t push, just let you settle into the weight of him, let you feel him.

you shifted just slightly, pressing down against him, testing, feeling.

the friction sent a sharp, unexpected pulse of sensation through you, a slow roll of warmth pooling low in your stomach. your clit brushed against the hard press of him beneath all the layers, the pressure perfectly, maddeningly placed.

a quiet gasp left your lips before you could stop it, muffled against his skin.

felix wasn’t unaffected either.

his breath hitched, his grip on your hips tightening, and then a soft, quiet gasp of his own slipped past his lips, hot against the shell of your ear. his whole body tensed beneath you, every muscle going rigid, his hips barely, barely pressing up in response before he caught himself.

"fuck," he breathed, his voice strained, wrecked already. his forehead dropped back against the pillow, his fingers pressing into your skin, his restraint evident in the way he held himself still beneath you.

you swallowed hard, heat curling in your stomach, breath coming faster now. your fingers clenched slightly against his chest, your body buzzing from the sensation, from the way felix had gasped against your ear, from the way he felt beneath you—warm and hard and completely at your mercy.

felix let out a shaky breath, his hands smoothing slow, steady circles against your waist. "you okay?" his voice was lower now, rougher, laced with something thick, something dark.

you nodded against his neck, voice barely above a whisper.

"yeah."

felix exhaled sharply, his hands sliding a little lower, gripping just beneath the curve of your hips.

and then—he moved.

his hands tightened against your hips, his grip grounding, firm, and in one slow, deliberate motion, he pulled you down against him.

the friction was immediate, sharp and warm and devastatingly good. the pressure of his cock beneath all the layers pressed right against your heat, the slow, controlled movement making your breath catch, making your legs clench instinctively around his hips.

felix groaned, low and wrecked, the sound vibrating against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. his head fell back against the pillow, his lips parted, his hands holding you in place as he did it again—pulling your hips against his, rutting up to meet you, the fabric between you doing nothing to dull the heat.

you inhaled sharply, your fingers digging into his chest as the sensation hit you, your body instinctively pressing down against him, seeking more, needing more.

felix’s breath was uneven, his grip on your waist growing just a little tighter, his movements a little more deliberate. he wasn’t holding back anymore—he was guiding you, controlling the rhythm, his hips rolling up into yours with slow, controlled precision.

you squeezed your eyes shut, your breath coming faster now, heat curling low in your stomach as the pressure built, as the friction sent little sparks of pleasure rippling through your body.

then, unable to help yourself, you moved too—grinding down against him harder, meeting his movements, your body falling into rhythm with his. felix let out a sharp, shuddering breath, his grip faltering for a second before he caught himself, his fingers pressing harder into your hips, helping guide you, matching your pace.

"fuck," he murmured, voice strained, rough, like he was barely holding himself together.

the pleasure between you was growing, steady and relentless, the rhythm becoming constant, your bodies moving in sync, finding something that felt both slow and desperate all at once.

felix’s breath was ragged beneath you, each slow grind of your hips making his grip tighten, his fingers pressing into your waist like he was afraid you’d slip away. the friction was maddening, the layers between you teasing, amplifying everything, making it all feel somehow more intense. your bodies were moving together now, falling into a steady rhythm, the pressure of him hitting just right, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

felix breathed, his voice rough, strained. "this, this feels good."

you nodded against him, unable to form proper words, your lips brushing over his collarbone as you rocked against him again, chasing more of that delicious friction. "mhm…"

felix let out a quiet, breathy grunt, his head tilting back against the pillow, exposing the length of his throat. "i didn’t think… hngh—" he broke off as you rolled your hips a little harder, his grip twitching against your skin. "—i didn’t think this would feel this good."

you swallowed, your breath shaky as warmth coiled low in your stomach, tightening with each slow, deliberate grind. "me neither," you admitted, your voice coming out softer, more breathless than you intended.

felix chuckled, though it was weak, barely holding up under the weight of his own pleasure. "this is… kind of dangerous," he murmured, his hands sliding up your sides, smoothing over the fabric of your tank top before settling just beneath your ribs, his touch hot, grounding.

you shivered at his touch, your hands pressing against his chest for balance as you rocked down harder, feeling the way his cock throbbed beneath the layers between you. your face burned, but you couldn’t stop—wouldn’t stop. it felt too good. too intoxicating.

"not too dangerous," you whispered, voice teasing, but your breath stuttered as felix suddenly bucked his hips up into you, adding a new kind of pressure that sent heat shooting straight through you.

a quiet sigh slipped past your lips before you could stop it, muffled slightly against his neck.

felix groaned in response, his fingers tightening under your ribs, his hips rutting up into yours again, more deliberate this time. "shit—okay," he gasped, a breathy laugh slipping between the edges of his words. "maybe just a little."

you nodded quickly, your body trembling against his, overwhelmed by the slow, steady pleasure unraveling between you. "a little," you echoed, though your voice faltered on the last word, your breath hitching as his cock pressed just right against you through your shorts.

felix cursed under his breath, his hands sliding down, gripping your hips again, guiding you in slow, controlled rolls. his movements were precise, calculated, dragging more friction, more pressure, and every time you moved, it sent another pulse of pleasure right where you needed it.

"baby," he gritted out, his voice nearly breaking on the word. his head tipped forward slightly, lips brushing against your shoulder. "you’re so—" he cut himself off, exhaling sharply as you pushed down against him again, feeling him pulse beneath you.

your stomach tightened, pleasure building, curling hot and insistent. your breath was coming faster now, your body rocking against him with more purpose, more need.

felix’s voice was lower now, rough, his words barely more than a whisper. "keep going."

your hands moved without thinking, sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed and flexed beneath your fingertips. the heat of his skin was intoxicating, each slow drag of your palms leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. felix shuddered beneath you, his breath catching as your fingers traced over his collarbones, then down again, pressing lightly against the firm ridges of his stomach.

"shit," he breathed, voice thick with something unfiltered, raw.

he lifted his hands from your hips, his touch hesitant for just a second before he let himself move—his palms smoothing up your sides, fingers grazing over the thin fabric of your tank top before slipping under. the warmth of his hands against your bare skin sent a sharp jolt of heat down your spine, making you inhale sharply, your movements faltering for half a second before you pressed down against him again.

the friction was maddening—slow and constant, a steady, delicious pressure that had your bodies completely locked into each other, moving in sync.

felix groaned softly, his head tilting back against the pillow, his hands gripping your waist beneath your shirt, his thumbs brushing slow, teasing circles against your skin. his hips rolled up into yours again, dragging another sharp wave of pleasure through you, and before you could stop yourself—a soft, breathy whine slipped past your lips.

felix froze. 

his grip on your waist tightened, his jaw clenching, his eyes fluttering shut for half a second before he suddenly leaned in—his lips pressing hot and open-mouthed against your neck, right against the spot where your pulse pounded.

a small gasp caught in your throat, your body shivering under the sensation, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance.

felix barely noticed.

all he could think about was the sound you had just made—the quiet, desperate little whine that had slipped from your lips, unfiltered, raw, fucking perfect.

his lips dragged lower, kissing, sucking lightly at your skin, and before you could stop yourself—another soft noise left you, muffled slightly as you tried to suppress it. your face burned instantly, heat crawling up your neck, and you squeezed your eyes shut, mortified.

"oh my god," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. "this is so embarrassing."

"no, baby," he murmured, voice low, firm, full of something dangerously soft. his hands smoothed up your sides again. "you could never be embarrassing."

your heart slammed against your ribs.

slowly, you lifted your head, your face still burning, and felix took the opportunity—leaning in, pressing his lips back to your neck, kissing slowly like he wanted to erase every ounce of hesitation left in your body.

you melted against him.

the rhythm between you didn’t stop—if anything, it only grew deeper, the slow, steady grind of your hips against his sending little waves of pleasure curling through you, building higher, sharper.

felix groaned against your skin, his lips trailing up, back to your jaw, before resting his forehead against yours, breath hot and uneven. his fingers gripped your waist again, guiding you, pulling you down against him harder, until—

a sharp, blinding rush of pleasure shot through you, sudden and overwhelming.

"felix—" his name left your lips in a breathless whisper, half a gasp, half a plea.

felix groaned, his grip on your waist flexing as he pushed up to meet you, matching your rhythm, moving with you, his movements just as frantic, just as desperate. his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot, ragged, his lips brushing against your cheek as he murmured—

"yeah, baby?"

your breath shuddered out of you, your head falling forward, your hands fisting in the sheets beside his shoulders. "i’m—" you swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper.

felix sucked in a sharp breath as he understood.

his fingers flexed against your waist, his grip tightening, and then—his body shuddered beneath you, his hips rutting up harder, more urgent, the friction between you pushing both of you closer.

"me too," he rasped, voice wrecked, his hands sliding up your sides, pulling you against him like he needed you, like he couldn’t bear the space between your bodies anymore.

his lips brushed against your jaw, his breath hot and uneven. "don’t stop."

the friction between you both remained relentless—eager, desperate, and just a little bit ridiculous. there was no finesse, no practiced rhythm, just a mess of frantic movements and needy sounds, both of you too lost in the sensation to even think about doing it right.

felix let out something between a groan and a breathless laugh as your hips stuttered against his, the pressure just right but the motion clumsy, uneven. his grip on your waist tightened as he tried to guide you, but the moment he pushed up again, his breath hitched—his whole body shivering beneath you like he’d just touched a live wire.

"fuck, i—" his words cut off into a strangled sound, his head falling back against the pillow, lips parting, brows furrowing. his hips jerked up on instinct, the friction so intense, so good that he couldn’t control it anymore. his fingers twitched against your skin, his body tensing beneath yours like he was barely hanging on.

you weren’t doing much better.

your breath was coming fast, uneven, your fingers digging into his shoulders as heat coiled low in your stomach, sharp and insistent. every accidental grind, every miscalculated movement, only sent another wave of pleasure rushing through you, growing stronger, more unbearable.

felix sucked in a sharp breath, his hands slipping up beneath your shirt, palms hot against your sides. his fingers flexed, gripping, guiding—trying to help, but he was just as lost as you, his movements desperate, erratic. his lips parted, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as his hips twitched up again, searching, chasing.

"shit—" your voice broke, your forehead dropping against his as a sharp, overwhelming pulse of pleasure tore through you. it was too much, too intense, and before you could stop it—

your whole body tensed.

felix felt it happen.

his eyes fluttered open, wide, lips parting as he realized, as he felt you stiffen against him. your thighs clenched around his hips, a soft, broken sound slipping from your lips—a sound that sent a violent shudder through his body, his fingers tightening on your skin.

"are you—?" his voice cracked mid-sentence, the words trailing off into a strangled whimper. you barely heard him. you were lost—still shivering, still caught in the aftershocks, the lingering heat pulsing between you both. your body felt like it was still chasing something, even as it trembled from the high. "oh my god—"

his whole body trembled beneath you, and then—

his hips jerked up sharply, one last, desperate movement before he broke.

a wrecked, helpless groan tore from his throat as his body shuddered, the tension snapping all at once, pleasure flooding through him so fast and hard he couldn’t even breathe. his hands scrambled against your waist, like he was trying to hold onto something—onto you—as his body rode out every pulse, every wave, every moment of pure, overwhelming sensation.

you were both breathing hard, your bodies still pressed flush together, the weight of what had just happened sinking in way too fast.

felix was the first to break the silence.

"oh, shit." his voice was hoarse, wrecked, almost disbelieving. his eyes flickered open, his pupils blown wide as he stared up at you, his lips parted slightly, his breath still shaky. "did we just—?"

your face burned so hot you thought you might actually die.

you let out a tiny, strangled whine, immediately dropping your forehead against his shoulder. "don’t talk about it."

felix peeked through his fingers, his ears completely red. "i literally just—"

"felix."

"—in my pants."

"felix, stop!”

day 6 - 14:00

ever since what happened that morning, you’d been all over felix. your fingers drifted to him constantly—tugging at the hem of his shirt when he stood next to you, absentmindedly smoothing a wrinkle in his sleeve just for an excuse to touch him. you bumped into him more than strictly necessary, brushing against his arm, nudging his knee under the table, leaning in closer than needed just to hear him speak.

and the worst part? you weren’t even trying to be subtle about it.

you had a spring in your step, a glow on your face, and constantly clinging to felix like a koala on a eucalyptus binge, you still would’ve been exposed. the world looked better, food tasted better, even the birds sounded less annoying.

and felix knew.

oh, he knew.

he hadn’t said a word about it, hadn’t teased you—not outright, anyway—but the way his lips twitched whenever you reached for him, the way his fingers skimmed the small of your back just to watch you shiver, the way he leaned in close when he talked to you, his voice a little lower than usual—yeah. he was enjoying this. way too much.

when jake heard chris was here, he and his sister invited the three of you onto his yacht again for a drink in the afternoon.

the sun hung lazily in the sky, casting golden streaks over the calm water as the yacht rocked gently beneath your feet. the salty breeze tousled your hair, warm and steady, carrying the distant laughter of other boats scattered across the bay. jake had gone all out again—bottles of expensive liquor lined up on the sleek white deck, cushions thrown carelessly across the built-in seating, music humming low from the speakers.

chris was leaning against the railing, a drink in hand, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he talked to emma, the girl who was secretly—not so secretly—obsessed with him. felix stood beside you near the snack table, surveying the fruit with all the seriousness of a man making a high-stakes decision. felix took a blueberry from the bowl and popped it into his mouth. then, without missing a beat, he grabbed another one and held it up to your lips.

“here,” he said, voice warm.

you smiled at the gesture, the simple sweetness of it making your chest feel just a little lighter. “thank you.” you whispered with a smile

you leaned in to take it, and right before you could, he swiftly ate it himself, just like he did on the first day.

the audacity.

you stared at him, deadpan, as he chewed with the utmost satisfaction. “felix.”

he grinned. “what?”

“you just—” you gestured vaguely at his mouth, betrayed.

“i was taste-testing,” he said, completely unbothered. “quality control.”

“oh, were you?”

“yeah. very important.” he reached for another blueberry, holding it up again. “okay, this one’s definitely for you.”

you narrowed your eyes but leaned in anyway—

and at the last second, he popped that one into his mouth too which prompted you to lightly smack his arm. 

he just laughed, dimples on full display, looking way too pleased with himself. “okay, okay, i’m sorry,” he said, still chuckling as he grabbed another blueberry. this time, he held it up properly. “here. for real this time, i promise.”

you eyed him suspiciously. “mm-hmm. sure.”

“i mean it.” his lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh again. “scout’s honor.”

“stop saying that,” you commented while laughing. you just shook your head, reaching for a blueberry yourself instead and you put it into your mouth, watching as his face twisted into exaggerated offense.

“hey,” he protested. “i’m supposed to do that for you”

“too bad.”

before you could say anything further, his hands were suddenly at your waist, fingers digging in just enough to send a shock of ticklish laughter bursting out of you.

“felix—!” you squealed, twisting away, but he just laughed along with you, relentless as he kept going.

“this is what happens when you steal my job,” he teased, his grin absolutely wicked. “actions have consequences.”

you were laughing so hard now that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. finally, you managed to grab his wrists, breathless. “okay, okay! truce!”

felix grinned down at you, eyes bright with amusement. “say ‘felix is the best boyfriend ever.’”

you groaned, still catching your breath. “you’re so annoying.”

he just ticked you again, making you jolt with another squeaky laugh. “say it.”

“fine! felix is the best boyfriend ever.” you huffed, rolling your eyes but unable to keep from smiling.

felix grinned, victorious, then leaned in to press a quick, light kiss to your cheek. “damn right.”

felix was still looking way too smug, his hands finally resting back at his sides as you caught your breath, shaking your head at him. before you could retaliate jake’s voice rang out across the yacht, loud and animated.

“i’m just fucking saying,” he declared, waving his drink for emphasis and very nearly sloshing it over the side of the boat. “if a dude orders a mojito at a dive bar, you know he’s about to say some unhinged shit. like, ‘oh, you have house-made mint syrup? yeah, my ex-girlfriend faked her own death and now lives in ohio under the name barbara.’” you turned your head just in time to see him take a dramatic sip of his whiskey, his eyes narrowing in deep, suspicious thought. “ohio, man,” he muttered. “that’s where people go when they wanna disappear. it’s sketchy as fuck.”

you shot felix a look before subtly jerking your head toward jake and the rest of the group, silently communicating the obvious. felix smiled, nodding in agreement, and the two of you made your way over. you sank onto the cushioned yacht seating, stretching out comfortably, while felix dropped down beside you, his arm naturally resting along the back of the couch behind you.

jake, meanwhile, was deep in his rant, his drink dangerously close to sloshing over as he gestured wildly. “i swear,” he continued, eyes slightly glazed over, “if you ever meet a guy who just casually brings up ohio in conversation, run. run. that man has secrets.”

emma, sitting across from him, sipped her drink with a look of pure amusement. “what if he’s just from ohio?”

jake scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “then he’s seen some shit. probably involved in a disappearance or two. i don’t make the rules.”

felix chuckled, shaking his head. “you talk like you’ve got firsthand experience.”

jake turned to him immediately, pointing. “i fucking do, man!” he leaned in like he was about to drop the biggest revelation of his life. “there was this one time—i shit you not—i met a dude named doug in a cincinnati parking lot at three in the morning. guy had, like, thirty-five thousand dollars in cash and a single pet bird in his car. he told me he was ‘starting over.’” jake sat back, shaking his head as if the memory still haunted him. “a pet bird, dude. you don’t run away from your past and keep a fucking parrot.”

“okay, but seriously,” felix said, tilting his head at jake. “why are you in the states so often, anyway? i swear, every time we talk, you’re either talking about l.a., new york, or apparently—" he gestured vaguely, "sketchy-ass ohio."

jake smirked, swirling the ice in his drink. “ah, mate, it’s ‘cause i’m internationally beloved.” he spread his arms wide, like he was some kind of goddamn celebrity, and took a lazy sip of whiskey before adding, “and because i have horrible financial habits.”

felix huffed a laugh beside you. “yeah, no shit.”

chris chimed in dryly, “you know, most people go to america for, like, work or actual business. you just seem to fuck around.”

jake pointed his glass at him. “hey, fucking rude, mate. i do business.”

jenny snorted from her seat. “no, you don’t.”

jake gasped, dramatically placing a hand on his chest. “wow. my own blood turning against me?” he shook his head, muttering, “i do business, you know. i dabble.”

chris lifted a brow. “dabble in what, exactly?”

jake grinned. “having a fucking great time.”

you rolled your eyes, kicking his foot lightly. “so you are just fucking around.”

jake rolled his eyes, leaning back into the cushions as he took another sip of his whiskey. “whatever, you lot just don’t appreciate my lifestyle.” then, as if the thought had just struck him, he turned his attention to felix. “yo, felix—your ex, the one you were dating a year ago, she was from the states, yeah?”

felix, who had been lounging comfortably beside you, suddenly stiffened. it was slight—just a brief pause, a barely-there shift in his posture—but you felt it. his fingers, which had been idly drumming against the cushion behind you, went still.

chris tensed, too, his expression going from vaguely amused to carefully neutral in an instant.

jake, oblivious as ever, kept going. “where was she from? hopefully not ohio.”

felix cleared his throat. “uh—” he glanced at chris briefly before giving a tight smile. “boston. she was from boston.”

you frowned slightly, glancing between the three of them. that reaction was… weird. it wasn’t like felix to get cagey about anything—especially something as minor as an ex’s hometown.

jake, completely unaware of the sudden shift in energy, just grinned and lifted his glass. “if there’s one good thing about the states, it’s the women, right?” he let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “absolutely unreal over there.”

felix let out a stiff chuckle, barely more than a breath, and took a long sip of his drink. you felt the way his shoulders remained tense, the way his fingers twitched slightly before stilling altogether. he wasn’t looking at anyone in particular now, just staring down at his glass like it held all the answers to life’s problems.

chris, meanwhile, didn’t say a word. he just shifted slightly, looking down at his own drink with a jaw so tight you were surprised he hadn’t cracked a tooth.

you mentally scoffed.

as always, felix was not at all big on talking about the one girl before you. mabel. that name was barely even a whisper in his life. he had mentioned her maybe twice since you’d known him—both times in passing, both times vague, like the name coming out of his mouth did something to him. if you had ever asked anything beyond the bare minimum, he’d steer the conversation elsewhere with that easy charm of his, like she was nothing more than a minor footnote in his past.

but this? this just proved it even more. watching the way his jaw tensed, the way chris was doing a horrible job of pretending he wasn’t also uneasy, you weren’t so sure anymore.

whatever had happened with mabel, whatever boston meant to him—it wasn’t just something he’d moved on from. it was something he avoided.

and now, as he sat there, noticeably rigid beside you while jake kept rambling on about american women, it was clearer than ever.

jake let out a laugh, shaking his head. “man, americans, i swear. wildest people i’ve ever met. you date one, you know you’re in for some kinda ride, huh, felix?”

felix forced out another laugh—too short, too flat. “yeah. something like that.”

you forced a small smile, but your mind was already elsewhere. something about felix’s reaction stuck with you, settling uneasily in your chest. you weren’t mad—this wasn’t some jealousy-fueled spiral. you suddenly felt the need for some air. not because you were mad, not because you were overreacting to the mention of felix’s ex—but because felix was reacting badly. and that was what bothered you.

felix was open about almost everything—quick with a joke, always willing to tease, always so casual about life. but the second mabel came up, even in passing, he shut down, just like he did last night. and today had just proven that even more. it was the way he was still tense beside you, even as jake had already moved on to whatever nonsense was spilling from his whiskey-fueled brain. you just needed a moment to think.

so, as casually as you could, you stood up. “i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” you said to felix.

he moved almost instantly, just the smallest shift like he was already prepared to follow you. he just assumed he was coming with you, like he thought you wanted him to. but you didn’t. not right now.

you caught his movement before he could stand and gave him a quick, reassuring shake of your head. “no, it’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice light.

felix hesitated, his brows furrowing just slightly, but he didn’t push. he just gave you a quiet nod, even though he didn’t look entirely convinced. as you turned to go, you let your hand brush over his shoulder, fingers trailing softly down his arm before slipping away completely. a small gesture, just enough to let him know you weren’t upset with him.

as soon as you disappeared below deck, felix’s shoulders stiffened. he tried to play it off, keeping his expression neutral, but his mind was already racing. his eyes immediately flicked to chris.

chris, who had been watching him carefully the whole time, just shook his head.

felix clenched his jaw, gripping his drink a little tighter.

then chris glanced toward the direction you had gone. a silent question that felix could understand immediately. felix exhaled sharply and nodded. he wasn’t going to sit here and spiral about this. if there was something wrong, he was going to find out. 

even if you had brushed felix off, maybe you wouldn’t brush off chris.

chris took a sip of his drink, then set it down and turned to emma with his signature smile, showing his dimples, his charm. “be right back,” he murmured, before standing.

felix barely had time to react before chris walked past him as he tensed, watching him go.

downstairs at the yacht’s bar, you leaned against the counter, swirling the ice in your glass as you chatted with the server—albert? alfred? you definitely didn’t remember, which was a little awkward considering he was the one who got you absolutely wasted the other night.

“so, you work on the yacht?” you asked, raising a brow. “like, full-time? or are you just here to see jake sim fall apart?”

he chuckled, wiping down a glass. “bit of both, really. pays well, keeps life interesting.” he smirked. “especially when i’m serving people like you.”

you narrowed your eyes playfully. “what’s that supposed to mean? the other night was my first time drinking that much.”

“i could tell. but you make my job fun.” he tapped the counter lightly, grinning. “and you still don’t remember my name.”

you opened your mouth to respond—defend yourself, really—but before you could, you spotted movement from the corner of your eye.

chris.

he stepped into the bar area, his eyes landing on you immediately. he didn’t even have to say a word—albert-alfred-whatever took one glance at him, and immediately moved to give you two space.

you watched the server disappear before turning your attention to chris, raising a brow. “hey.”

chris slid onto the stool next to you, elbows resting on the counter. “you good?”

simple. direct. no messing around.

you swirled your drink idly, letting out a slow breath. “yeah.” then, after a beat, you added, “just needed a minute.”

chris nodded like he understood, like he wasn’t about to push you for more than you were willing to give. “jake’s an idiot,” he said casually, like it was just a fact of life. “and felix… well.” he paused, tapping his fingers against the counter. “he’s felix.”

you let out a short laugh at that. “yeah. he is.”

chris tilted his head slightly, studying you. “you’re not mad at him.” it wasn’t a question.

“no,” you admitted. “i’m not.”

“then what is it?”

you hesitated, glancing down at your drink. chris waited, patient as ever, letting you take your time.

"i'm just... confused," you admitted, your fingers tightening slightly around your glass. you weren't even sure how to put it into words.

chris nodded, waiting.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “it’s not like i didn’t know felix had a past. we all do. but whenever mabel comes up—even indirectly—it’s like something in him just locks up. he barely ever talks about her, and i never push, but…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “it’s not just avoidance. it’s something else.”

chris was quiet for a moment, rolling his drink between his hands. then, finally, he exhaled. “yeah,” he said simply. “it is. and your feelings are valid, he should be more open, even if it isn't easy.”

your stomach dipped slightly.

that was the thing about chris—he wasn’t the type to sugarcoat things. if he didn’t think there was anything to worry about, he would’ve just said so. but the fact that he wasn’t denying it, wasn’t brushing it off like it was nothing? that meant something.

you leaned forward a little, lowering your voice. “chris… what happened?”

chris’s jaw tensed. not in the way felix’s had upstairs—not as sharp, not as closed-off—but still wary. “it’s not my story to tell,” he said finally.

you exhaled through your nose, nodding even though it frustrated you. of course he’d say that. it was the right thing to say. the loyal thing to say. but it didn’t make this any easier.

chris sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before turning toward you. “look,” he said, voice quieter now. “all i can tell you is… mabel messed him up. more than he lets on. more than you’d think. and felix, he—” he stopped, considering his words carefully. “he doesn’t let people see the things that hurt him. not really. he covers it up with jokes, with that whole ‘nothing bothers me’ thing, but when it comes to her…”

he didn’t finish the sentence. he didn’t have to. you swallowed.

“felix cares about you,” chris continued, his voice firm now. “you know that, right?”

you looked up at him. the sincerity in his gaze, the certainty in his voice—it was enough to make your heart clench.

“yeah, i know. i mean how could i not?” you said, almost scoffing at the thought that you could ever doubt it. “he’s the most caring person i know. he always notices the little things. he makes me feel safe without even trying, and he—” you stopped yourself, exhaling sharply. “goodness, chris, i don’t know how to explain it. it’s just… like it’s second nature to him to care.”

chris was watching you now, his expression soft, a small knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“he always puts others first,” you continued, your voice quieter now. “like, even earlier—he noticed i needed space before i even said a word. he didn’t push, he just—let me go. even if he didn’t want to.” you swallowed, shaking your head. “i don’t know. he just cares so much. i’ve never had that before.”

chris let out a small huff, shaking his head in amusement. “damn,” he murmured, taking a sip of his drink before setting it back down.

you frowned slightly. “what?”

chris smiled, tilting his head at you. “you’re good for him.” his voice was warm, assured. “i mean it. and the way you talk about him—the way you see him—it’s exactly what he needs.”

your chest tightened, emotions swelling up all at once.

then chris’s smile shifted, turning just a little mischievous, a little teasing. “and,” he added, lifting his drink to his lips, “he loves you, you know.”

you froze, your heart coming to a complete halt.

chris took a slow sip of his whiskey like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb in your lap.

your breath caught in your throat. “he said that?”

chris set his glass down, shrugging. “basically.”

your stomach twisted. “chris—”

he held up a hand. “relax, i’m not messing with you.” his voice softened. “he really does.”

you felt like the floor had tilted beneath you. like the weight of the ocean surrounding the yacht had suddenly pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe.

chris saw the look on your face and huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “c’mon, y/n. you had to know.”

you blinked at him, your fingers tightening around your glass. “i—” you cut yourself off, because what were you supposed to say?

chris gave you a look. “he’s not exactly subtle. the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you to me.” he smirked slightly, but it softened almost immediately. “look, i’ve known felix for a long time. he’s like a little brother to me. felix isn’t the type to throw words around. but he doesn’t have to say it, because everything he does screams it.”

your throat was suddenly dry.

chris exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “and i’ve seen him go through some shit. but you?” he tilted his head at you. “you make him happy in a way i don’t think he’s ever been before.”

the words settled over you like a wave, rolling into your chest, leaving you breathless.

chris studied your expression, then smirked. “damn, you really didn’t know?”

you swallowed thickly. “i—i guess i just didn’t think about it like that.”

chris shook his head in disbelief, chuckling under his breath. “man. you’re both idiots.”

you rolled your eyes, but before you could say anything, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make you suspicious. “so… have you two, you know—” he wiggled his eyebrows. “gotten really close?”

your body went stiff. “what?”

chris smirked, swirling the ice in his drink. “come on. you know what i mean.”

your mouth opened, then closed. heat rushed to your cheeks as the morning flashed in your mind—felix under you, his hands gripping your waist, the way he groaned into your mouth—

you blinked rapidly, clearing your throat. “how did you know? did felix tell you?”

chris’s smirk widened. “you just did. felix didn’t tell me shit, you gave yourself away.”

your stomach dropped. “i—” a high-pitched squeal escaped you as you smacked your hands over your face, absolutely mortified. “oh my god.”

chris leaned back, grinning. “only if you wanna say—when did this happen? felix just said you two were taking it slow.”

you shifted awkwardly, looking away. “this morning.”

chris blinked. then his eyes widened. “oh no.”

you frowned. “what do you mean, oh no?”

“was it bad?”

your mouth fell open. “chris—”

he winced dramatically. “i mean, first time stuff can be awkward—”

“chris,” you hissed. “we barely did anything.”

his expression shifted instantly. “oh.” then, after a beat, he grinned again. “guess i’ll have to ask felix for details, then.”

you gasped, smacking his arm. “i’m going upstairs.”

chris just laughed, shaking his head as you turned to storm away. but before you could leave completely, his voice softened slightly. “hey.”

you glanced back over your shoulder.

chris gave you a knowing smile. “felix will tell you he loves you, alright? i can see it. he’s itching to tell you. it’s only a matter of time before he does.”

your heart skipped.

felix loves you.

felix loves you.

felix loves you.

then why won’t he be open about his past?

day 6 - 19:00

you had a plan.

tonight, under the sunset, you would tell felix you loved him.

the thought had settled in your chest like a quiet storm all afternoon. after what chris had said, after realizing that felix loved you too—even if he hadn’t said it yet—you couldn’t hold it in any longer. you didn’t want to.

and really, what better time than now?

this was your last full day here. tomorrow, you’d be finished packing up, saying goodbye to this beach house and everything it had come to mean to you. the golden mornings filled with lazy cuddles, the afternoons spent chasing each other through the waves, the quiet nights where you’d sit on the deck with your feet propped up on his lap, listening to the ocean hum in the distance.

felix had shown you so much here—his favorite hidden cove where the water turned impossibly blue, the little bagel shack at the harbour, and all his friends here. he’d shown you how to skim stones across the water and how to make a bonfire without completely embarrassing yourself.

but more than that, he’d shown you himself. the way he scrunched his nose when something was too sweet, how he’d rest his chin on your shoulder whenever he was tired, how his fingers would search for yours without even thinking.

and maybe, if you said it, if you put it out into the world, he would finally let you see the parts of himself he kept tucked away. he would tell you about his past he never talked about, something he carried with quiet restraint. but maybe—just maybe—loving him out loud would mean he’d trust you enough to let you in.

and you wanted to say it.

you wanted to tell him you loved him while the sky burned orange and the waves kissed the shore. you wanted to see his face when you said it, wanted to feel the weight of the moment settle between you, warm and safe.

it would be perfect.

you were curled up on his bed, scrolling through the hundreds of pictures you’d taken this week. a snapshot of felix, kissing your hand at beautiful cove. another of him squinting at a bagel like it had personally offended him. one of your intertwined hands, his rings catching the sunlight just right.

you smiled to yourself. every moment of this trip had been carved into your heart, and tonight—you’d make it real. you’d tell him.

but for now, you just watched.

felix was in full gamer mode, legs sprawled out under his desk, fingers dancing over his keyboard like a concert pianist about to demolish a grand finale. his headset was crooked, one side slightly lifted so he could hear both you and chris, who was currently on the other end of the call right across the street, swearing up a storm.

“bro, you’re actually trash,” felix barked, his accent thick, laughter laced in his words as he mashed at his keyboard. his fingers moved with a speed you’d never understand, the mechanical clacking of his keys blending with the occasional pop of gunfire from his headset. 

a pause. then a wicked grin split across his face.

“boom! get fucked.”

chris groaned into felix’s headset. “oh, fuck off!” although you couldn’t hear it, you could imagine how furious he was. 

felix only laughed harder, head tipping back slightly, leaning back in his chair with that shit-eating grin he always got when he was winning. felix sat cross-legged in his gaming chair, completely in his element. his tongue peeked out slightly as he focused, knee bouncing, fingers drumming against the desk between rounds. he was so completely himself like this, and god, you loved him.

felix let out a sharp laugh, “maybe if you weren’t built like a bloody traffic cone, you’d actually dodge a shot for once,” he shot back, eyes crinkled at the corners, boyish and flushed with adrenaline. 

the headset sat snug around his messy blond hair, his black hoodie fitting perfectly against his frame, and the silver chain he always wore glinted under the soft light of the monitor. he looked so felix, so yours, and it made something in your chest tighten.

you pushed yourself off the bed, moving toward him. he was still half-laughing, half-taunting chris when you reached up and slipped your fingers under the mic arm of his headset, gently pushing it away from his lips. his voice cut off instantly. his head snapped toward you, eyes locking onto yours like gravity had just shifted, like you had become the only thing in the room that mattered.

everything else—the game, chris, the entire world—ceased to exist.

his lips were parted, a soft breath escaping as he took you in, the way you’d moved closer, the way your gaze flickered down to his mouth. his hand fell from his mouse, resting on his leg, but you could see the way his fingers twitched—like they wanted to reach for you.

leaning in, you pressed your lips to his, slow at first, hesitant, like you were afraid he might pull away. but felix never would. he inhaled sharply, surprised, but the moment his brain caught up with his heart, he melted.

a quiet sound rumbled from his chest as he kissed you back, one hand coming up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek. the taste of spearmint gum lingered on his lips, and the warmth of him—his skin, his breath, the way he was already tilting his head to deepen the kiss—made your heart stutter.

somewhere in the background, chris was still talking.

felix pulled back slightly, barely an inch, his forehead pressing against yours. his breath was uneven, but his voice—low, rough, like he hadn’t quite recovered—was steady.

“oi, chris,” he muttered into the mic, his eyes still locked onto yours. “i’m off, man.”

chris scoffed. “what? you scared now?”

felix’s lips curled into a smirk. “nah. just got something more important.”

“oh?” chris’s tone shifted, teasing, laced with that knowing edge only a best friend could manage. “ohhh.”

felix’s smirk deepened, his eyes never leaving yours, dark and shining with something that made your chest tighten, your stomach flip.

“bye, chris,” he said, dragging out the words just enough to make his point. then, with a swift flick of his wrist, he yanked the headset off, letting it fall onto the desk with a soft thud. 

you let out a breathless laugh, “you could’ve kept playing, you know,” you murmured. your fingers traced the edge of his hoodie absentmindedly. “i would’ve been quiet.”

felix’s hands found the bottom of your shirt, pulling you closer until your knees brushed against his, and his breath fanned across your face. his eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up.

“yeah,” he whispered, his voice low, almost like it was a secret just for you. “but i wouldn’t.”

felix’s eyes fluttered shut just before your lips met, his lashes dark against the warm flush of his cheeks. you could feel the faint hitch in his breath, the way his fingers tensed slightly at the hem of your shirt like he was grounding himself in the feel of you, right here, right now.

and when your lips touched it wasn’t rushed. it was deliberate. careful. 

his lips closed around yours like the feel of your mouth was something he’d been craving without even realizing it. you could feel the way his breath hitched again, his chest pressing into yours as his hands slid higher, his thumbs grazing the skin just beneath your shirt, sending a shiver down your spine.

the kiss deepened, his tongue brushing lightly against your bottom lip before retreating, like he was testing, teasing, waiting for you to meet him halfway. and you did. your lips moved in sync, slow but deliberate, like you were both trying to etch the memory of this moment into your skin. you felt his fingers tighten slightly at your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, until there was no space left between you. his mouth opened again, coaxing yours apart, and the gentle slide of his tongue against yours sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

you pulled away, but you didn’t go far—your forehead still rested against his, and you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, the ghost of his lips still tingling on your skin. his hands stayed at your waist, thumbs brushing soft circles into your sides like he wasn’t ready to let go. you pursed your lips for a second, trying to push it down, but the words slipped out anyway, soft and a little sad.

“i’m gonna miss you when i leave tomorrow.”

felix’s eyes opened slowly, and for a second, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. but then he exhaled, this quiet, almost defeated little breath.

“i’ve been trying not to think about it,” he murmured, his voice low.

you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh and felix smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek. his gaze softened, the sadness in his eyes tempered by something steadier, more certain.

“i’ll only be staying here with my parents for a few days after you leave,” he said quietly, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, like he needed to touch you while he said it, like that would make it more real. “and then… once i get back to sydney, we can see each other again.”

the way he said it—like it was a promise, like there was no if in the equation, only when—made your chest tighten in a different way. you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of his words settle over you.

“it’s not just that,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “i just… i don’t wanna leave this place.” you glanced past him toward the window, where the faint outline of the beach was just visible, the waves still whispering against the shore. “i’m jealous you get to stay.”

felix’s brow shot up, and for a second, he just stared at you, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. then he let out a sharp scoff, shaking his head as a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“oh, wow,” he drawled, his accent thicker now, laced with disbelief. his hand dropped from your jaw to your waist, squeezing gently as he leaned back just enough to get a better look at you. “so it’s not because you’ll be apart from your poor boyfriend?” he arched a brow, lips twitching as he fought to keep a straight face. “it’s just ‘cause you’ve gotten attached to my vacation house?”

you burst out laughing, the sound spilling from your chest before you could stop it. his mock-offended tone, the way his eyes sparkled like he was enjoying every second of teasing you—it was impossible not to. you swatted lightly at his chest, but he didn’t budge, his grin only widening as he leaned in closer again, his nose brushing against yours.

“i mean…” you teased back, your voice soft but laced with the same playful energy. “have you seen this place? the beach is right there, and the boat, and—”

“oh, my god,” felix groaned dramatically, letting his head fall back with a loud, exaggerated sigh. “you’re unbelievable.” but he was laughing too, that deep, warm sound that always made your chest feel too small for your heart.

you watched him for a second, the curve of his smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, and that ache in your chest shifted. it really wasn’t about the house. it was him. and he knew that. you reached up, letting your fingers tangle in the loose curls at the nape of his neck, and his laughter softened, fading into something quieter, more tender. 

“but seriously,” you whispered, your thumb brushing along his jawline. “i’m gonna miss you.”

“i’m really gonna miss this,” you breathed out again, but the words kept coming, tumbling out like you couldn’t stop them even if you tried. “i’m gonna miss the sunsets, and getting drunk whenever we’re near the sim twins, and tanning until i’m almost sunburned…” you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly at the memories. “but only because you were there. because you were with me.”

his lips twitched, but he didn’t say anything. he just kept looking at you, nodding, like every word was something precious he didn’t want to miss.

“i’ll miss falling asleep to the sound of the waves,” you continued, your voice quieter now, almost like you were sharing a secret just for him. “but only because it felt better with you next to me.”

you saw it before he even realized it himself—the slight glassiness in his eyes, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. instead, his chest rose with a shaky breath, and you caught the faint shimmer of tears welling up, clinging stubbornly to his lashes.

your heart clenched, and you whispered, soft and tentative, “felix?”

he blinked, like your voice had pulled him out of some deep, unspoken place. his lips twitched into a wobbly half-smile, like he was trying to hold it together, but it wasn’t really working.

“i—” he started, but his voice cracked just slightly, betraying him. he let out a breath, shaky and uneven, and scrubbed a hand over his face like that could somehow erase the emotion swimming just beneath the surface. “i don’t know why i’m getting so emotional.” his laugh was soft, almost self-deprecating. “you’re just… you’re such a sweet girl, and i…”

he trailed off, the words hanging there between you, heavy and unfinished. you knew what he wanted to say. you could feel it in the way his eyes searched yours, in the way his breath hitched like the weight of it was pressing against his ribs. but he didn’t say it—not yet. instead, he let out another shaky breath, like he was trying to hold something in that was too big to keep.

your hands moved before your mind even caught up, cradling his face between your palms, your thumbs brushing gently over the sharp edges of his cheekbones. his skin was warm, flushed, and the faint stubble under your fingertips only grounded you more in the reality of this moment.

without a word, you pulled him into you, guiding his head down until his face skimmed the crook of your neck, right where your shoulder met your throat. he didn’t resist. he melted into you like he’d been waiting for this exact thing.

your fingers moved instinctively, threading through his soft locks, nails grazing lightly against his scalp. he let out a quiet breath, the tension in his body easing just enough for you to feel the shift, like the touch of your hands anchored him in something safe, something solid. you tilted your head slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the damp skin of his cheek, right near the edge of his jaw. the salt from his tears mixed with the warmth of his skin, and the taste of that moment lingered on your lips.

for a while, neither of you spoke. the room was filled with the soft hum of the ocean outside, the distant cries of gulls, and the steady beat of his heart against your chest. but the sun was dipping lower, and you could feel time slipping through your fingers, faster than you wanted.

you whispered into the quiet, your lips brushing against his skin, “do you wanna go watch the sunset?”

this wasn’t just any sunset. you both knew that. it was the last one before tomorrow came, before bags were packed and goodbyes hung heavy in the air. you felt the faintest nod against your shoulder, the way his breath caught in his throat like he was still trying to find the words that wouldn’t come. but then he pulled back, just enough to meet your gaze.

his eyes were still glassy, rimmed red, but softer now, like the weight of whatever had been pressing down on him had eased, even if just a little. he nodded again, more certain this time. “yeah,” he whispered, his voice steady. “let’s go.”

you smiled, a soft curve of your lips that you didn’t even try to hide. felix stood up, his hand still wrapped in yours, and the warmth of his touch anchored you in a way words never could. then, without saying anything more, you both turned and stepped out of his room.

the hallway greeted you with the familiar creak of the old wooden floorboards, a sound that had somehow become comforting over the past days. the walls were painted in soft, sun-worn colors—sky blues and sandy beiges, kissed by the salty air and the years they’d weathered together. you let your eyes wander over the little details you’d grown to love in this house: the framed photos lining the hall, each capturing a different summer, the same faces smiling against the backdrop of this very beach. the faint scent of saltwater and sunscreen clung to everything, blending with the warmth of the evening air that drifted in through the open windows.

your fingers traced over the ridges of the whitewashed walls as you passed, each texture grounding you deeper into the reality of leaving soon. the house felt alive, like it had soaked in all the laughter, the whispered confessions, the quiet mornings and loud nights.

you reached the back door to the deck, felix’s fingers still laced with yours, warm and grounding. then, with a gentle push, you stepped out into the open air, and the house seemed to exhale behind you, releasing you into the waiting arms of the evening.

the door creaked softly as felix closed it behind you, the soft click of the latch sealing away the memories within those walls. the warmth of the evening wrapped around you like a second skin, the salty breeze rolling in from the ocean, tousling your hair and brushing against your cheeks.

the deck stretched out beneath your feet, its weathered wood cool against your bare skin. the soft golden light from the setting sun spilled across the planks, casting long shadows that danced with the rhythm of the waves. you took a slow breath, letting the familiar scent of saltwater and sun-soaked wood fill your lungs, grounding you in this moment.

felix’s hand tightened in yours as you moved toward the steps, his thumb brushing lazy circles against your skin. you both descended the wooden staircase, your steps slow and unhurried. there was no rush tonight. no teasing or laughing or sprinting to see who could reach the shore first. 

as your feet touched the cool, soft sand, the world seemed to open up before you. the ocean stretched out endlessly, its surface shimmering with the fiery hues of the sunset. the sky was a masterpiece, painted with streaks of orange and pink, deep purples bleeding into the horizon where the sun kissed the edge of the water. the waves rolled in slow and steady, their gentle rhythm a heartbeat that matched your own.

it was breathtaking—everything you could’ve hoped for and more.

you led felix a little further down the beach, the sand cool and soft between your toes, until you found the perfect spot. with a soft sigh, you lowered yourself onto the sand, the grains warm beneath you from the day’s heat. you patted the spot beside you, a silent invitation, and felix sank down next to you without hesitation, his knee brushing against yours, his presence a comforting weight at your side.

for a while, neither of you spoke. you just sat there, side by side, watching as the sun slipped lower and lower, half-submerged beneath the horizon. the sky burned with color, reflecting off the water’s surface in a dazzling display that felt like it was just for you two. the sound of the waves crashing gently against the shore filled the space between you, a soothing, familiar melody.

you turned your head slightly, stealing a glance at felix. the golden light of the setting sun bathed his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the curve of his nose, and the softness in his eyes. he was staring out at the horizon, his expression thoughtful, almost reverent, like he was trying to etch this moment into his memory.

“i’ve been thinking,” you murmured, the words barely louder than the waves. “about us. about how much we’ve changed this past week.”

felix exhaled a small laugh, shaking his head as he glanced at you. “you say that like it’s even a question.”

you turned, searching his face. “what do you think?”

his lips curled, soft and knowing. “i think it’s a given.” his gaze drifted back toward the water, the light in his eyes reflecting the last golden streaks of dusk. “on the first day, we barely knew how to kiss.” his thumb traced lazy circles against the back of your hand. “and this morning… we decided that we trusted each other.”

your fingers curled tighter around his. “i’ve never felt that way about anyone before,” you admitted, voice soft, like saying it too loud might break the fragile truth of it. “you just make me feel like myself.”

felix turned to you fully now, his brows knitting slightly like your words meant more to him than you even realized. then, without a word, he lifted your intertwined hands and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your knuckles.

the words left your lips before you even realized you’d spoken them aloud. they carried the weight of everything you felt, everything you had been too afraid to name until now.

“and i love you, felix.”

at that exact moment, the last sliver of the sun dipped beneath the horizon, plunging the sky into darkness. 

felix stilled.

completely.

he was horrified. not even speechless in the way someone might be when they hear something beautiful for the first time. no—felix looked like you had just ripped the ground out from beneath his feet.

his mouth opened, but nothing came out. his lips parted, pressed together again, then parted once more, like he was trying to form words and failing miserably. his pupils were blown wide, and even in the dim light, you could see the way his skin had gone pale, save for the flush creeping up his neck, staining his ears. his brows were drawn tight, his jaw clenched so hard you could see the tension ripple beneath his skin.

you furrowed your brows, the weight of his silence pressing down on you like a stone sinking into your chest.

you had expected something—anything.

a smile. a whispered, “me too.” 

even just his hand tightening around yours, reassuring you that he was here, that he felt it too.

but he did nothing.

absolutely nothing.

the silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating, drowning out the sound of the waves, the distant cry of gulls, even the steady rhythm of your own breathing.

slowly, you pulled your hand away from his and his hand went limp.

you forced a small, reassuring smile, though it felt wobbly at the edges. your voice came out softer than you wanted, but you tried to keep it light, tried to reach for him in the way he wouldn’t reach for you.

“felix,” you coaxed, tilting your head slightly, “say something.”

nothing.

his mouth was still slightly open, his lips parted like he was trying to find the words, but none came. his throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his adam’s apple moving with the effort. his hands curled into loose fists against his thighs, and you swore you saw the faintest tremor run through them.

your smile faltered.

then, slowly, it disappeared altogether.

the fear settled in first, threading through your chest like an unraveling string. not fear of him, no—never him—but of what this silence meant.

you searched his face for something, anything, but all you found was that same wide-eyed horror, that same frozen, deer-in-the-headlights look like he had just seen something he wasn’t ready to face.

“…felix?” you tried again, quieter this time, like maybe if you spoke softer, he’d hear you better.

the hurt settled in next, sinking deep into your chest like an anchor. you inhaled sharply, the sound almost too loud in the quiet between you. your hands clenched at your sides as you searched his face one last time, desperate for something—anything—to tell you that this wasn’t what it seemed. 

“i’m sorry,” felix whispered.

and your stomach dropped.

“no, felix, no” you murmured, shaking your head, like somehow that could undo it, could erase the weight of those words before they could settle in too deep.

you pushed yourself up, your legs unsteady beneath you, but you barely noticed. all you could feel was the aching pulse behind your ribs, the raw sting spreading through your chest like an open wound. felix reached for you, his hand lifting, fingers outstretched—desperate, pleading—even as he remained where he was, still sitting in the sand.

his fingertips barely brushed against yours, but you didn’t pull back. not yet.

“i’m sorry,” he said again, softer this time, almost breaking on the words.

your breath trembled as you exhaled.

“then say something, felix,” you whispered. “stop apologizing and say something.”

his hand tightened just slightly around yours, like he was clinging to the last bit of space between you. his lips parted, his chest rising with a sharp inhale, and for a second—a single second—you thought maybe, just maybe, he was about to say what you so desperately needed to hear. but then his breath hitched and that was all you needed to know. the last sliver of hope unraveled inside you as you pulled your hand away.

the night sky stretched endlessly above you, dark and infinite, stars scattered across it like delicate brushstrokes of light. it was beautiful—blissfully unbeknownst to the storm unraveling beneath it, indifferent to the weight of the silence you left behind.

you didn’t look back. you didn’t dare.

your steps felt heavy as you made your way back up the worn wooden steps to the house, the distant hum of the waves fading behind you. the deck creaked beneath your feet, the same sound that once felt comforting now just another noise swallowed by the ache in your chest.

inside, the house was quiet. you walked past everything—the hallway lined with framed summer memories, the couch where you and felix had tangled together, laughing over something neither of you could remember now. every space carried something, some fragment of him, some piece of you and him.

your fingers curled around the doorknob of the guest bedroom, and you pushed the door open, stepping into the darkness. you closed the door behind you, the latch clicking softly into place, sealing you in with the weight of everything that had just happened.

the bedside lamp flickered to life with a soft click, casting a dim, golden glow across the room. you sank down onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath you, and placed your hands in your lap.

and then—before you even realized it—your vision blurred.

tears threatened to spill, welling up faster than you could stop them, faster than you could pretend they weren’t there. a quiet sob escaped your lips as you brought your hands up to your face, pressing your palms against your cheeks. 

you wiped your tears with the heel of your hand, and your breath was shaky, uneven, your chest still rising and falling in stuttered, broken movements. you were almost angry. it was quiet, simmering just beneath the surface, bleeding into the sadness in a way that made your stomach turn.

because he had told you he loved you once. when he was drunk off cheap the night of the bonfire, he had said it. 

you were angry because he took care of you. last night, when you had woken up from a nightmare, body trembling, breath shallow—he had been there. he had held you, whispered reassurances into your hair, traced circles on your back until your heartbeat slowed. he cared.

you were even angry because chris—felix’s best friend, the person who probably knew him better than anyone—had told you that felix loved you. so why had that just happened? why did he look so horrified, so lost, when you said it?

your face crumpled as another sob broke free, raw and aching. you wrapped your arms around yourself, squeezing your own sides as if you could somehow keep yourself together. you then pushed yourself up from the bed, your legs unsteady but moving anyway, driven by something you didn’t fully understand.

you grabbed your suitcase from where it sat untouched in the corner of the room and dragged it toward the shelves. you had unpacked a week ago, placing your clothes neatly in the drawers, letting yourself belong here. now, you shoved them back into your suitcase with trembling hands, tears slipping silently down your cheeks, dripping onto the fabric.

it hurt.

it hurt so much.

felix was still on the beach, curled in on himself, the damp sand cool beneath him. the night had swallowed the last bit of sunlight, leaving the sky a deep, endless black, stars scattered across it like pinpricks of light, oblivious to the way everything inside him felt like it was caving in. the waves rolled in and out, their rhythm steady, constant—so unlike the chaos in his chest. his hood was pulled low over his face, the fabric bunched in his fists, like if he held onto something tight enough, he could anchor himself. but nothing could ground him right now.

because he had fucked up.

he had seen the way your smile faded, how the light in your eyes dimmed as the silence stretched between you. he had seen the hurt settle into your face, the confusion, the sadness, the way you had tried—tried—to get him to say something, anything. but he had just sat there, useless, his own fear strangling him. the deep, painful ache in his chest wasn’t just from what had just happened—it was from the weight of memories that still clung to him like a shadow, refusing to let him go.

mabel.

her name was a curse, a reminder of the time when he had believed in love with the same reckless abandon he’d once used to trust. his mind drifted back to that night with mabel, the night he had made the mistake of saying “i think i love you”.

her blue eyes had glinted in that same way they always did when she wanted something, when she wanted to twist him, break him just a little bit more. she had smiled, sweet and false, and as he sat there, trembling on the edge of her bed, she leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear.

“say it again,” she had whispered, her voice honey-sweet, but there was something darker underneath it.

“i love you,” felix had said, each word a strange, foreign thing in his mouth.

"again," she whispered, her lips curling into a teasing smile. 

he hesitated. a small spark of doubt flickered in his chest, but it was quickly drowned out by the overwhelming need to please her, to make her happy, to be enough. but as the words lingered on the tip of his tongue, his mind started to clear, and a knot formed in his stomach.

this wasn’t right.

but mabel didn’t wait. she leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear, and her laugh echoed softly through the dim room.

“do you need me to make it easier for you? because if you’re going to say it, i need to hear it loud and clear.”

felix’s heart pounded in his ears. the three words felt so wrong now, so meaningless when they were forced out of him. he could feel the pressure mounting in his chest as he forced himself to speak, as though the words were choking him. "i love you," he repeated, the words sour in his mouth, but he felt the need to say them, like some kind of duty, a demand he had to fulfill.

mabel’s smile widened, but it wasn’t the smile of someone who was moved, who was touched by the confession. no, it was the smile of someone who had just won, someone who had gotten exactly what she wanted.

her fingers fluttered lightly along his arm, her touch cold and distant, as she sighed theatrically. “i like hearing you say it,” she said, but there was no warmth in her voice, only a carefully veiled condescension. “now, if you really love me, felix,” her eyes narrowed, flicking up to meet his with that sharp, calculating gaze. "don’t you think that love should be about doing things for me, not just saying the words?"

her laugh, that soft, tinkling sound, was the final blow. she wasn’t cruel, not in the way that would make him immediately recoil. she was too careful, too precise in her cruelty. her words were always sugar-coated, like a gentle slap to the face, so that no one could accuse her of being mean. but that’s how she had always controlled him—by making him feel inferior, by manipulating him into believing that he needed to be more for her to love him. and the worst part? everyone else loved her. they saw the perfect, angelic girl who could do no wrong, the one who seemed to float above all the drama, the one who would smile at you and touch your hand, but who would leave you questioning every part of yourself long after she had walked away.

he thought she loved him when she’d tell him, with that same sweet, fake expression, that his insecurities were unattractive. that he’d never be good enough for her unless he changed, unless he made himself into something she wanted. he had thought he loved her when she’d turned every small argument into a war, talking down on him until he broke down, begging for forgiveness, even when he had done nothing wrong.

felix hadn’t told anyone about mabel. not his friends, not his parents, not even the people he spent the most time with. no one in his life knew that he had once been tangled in the mess of her, that he had spent months caught in the twisted dance of her manipulation.

the only one who knew, the only person who had seen the real mabel—who knew what she had done to him—was chris. chris, who had always been the one to watch over felix, who had always seen the cracks in him before anyone else did. chris, who had quietly become the one person felix could turn to, even if it meant acknowledging the things he tried so hard to bury.

he dragged a hand through his hair, his heart heavy with regret, with the sting of his own failure. it felt like he was drowning in it, in the knowledge that he had pushed you away when you had needed him most.

and he knew, deep down, that this wasn’t something he could fix with just words. he could apologize until his throat was raw, but the damage was done. you were already walking away, and no matter how much he wished he could take back that moment on the beach, it was too late.

he had lost you.