s-9in

[s-9in]

KIDULT 2/2 | J.CM

꒰ synopsis ꒱ changmin always believed he was never fond of children, especially when he took the job at your daycare. little did he know the child in him was playing hide and seek, finally revealing itself after growing to love the kids. oh, and you too

꒰ pairing ꒱ daycareworker!changmin x genderneutral!reader

꒰ genre ꒱ strangers to lovers, daycare au, slow burn, fluff, angst, features hyunjae and the rest of the boyz as children

꒰ warnings ꒱ children, car accident, major character death, descriptions of blood, sprinkled bits of profanity and capitalization, and an overall merry bad ending

꒰ word count ꒱ 14.3k+

꒰ perspective ꒱ 2nd person omniscient

‘ playlist two ›› spotify, youtube

‘ author's note!! 🍃 — this fic is for @junjungsunwoo 's merry bad ending collab!! biggest thanks to @pjmaparty , @fullsunfluff , @bbanghoonie , and @heejojo for beta reading!! this is the second part out of two <3

‘ taglist ›› @nilesig @reniqt @sunfics @wooyoung-a @kimaya2209 @frickyratz @deputyjuyeon @stealanity @hwallswrld @kyu-rious @changminurheart

NAVIGATION | TBZ MASTERLIST | PART ONE

The jingle from the front doors makes your ears perk, rushing out the playroom and into the entrance. The sight of Changmin never fails to bring a smile to your face, and you immediately wrap your arms around his waist, greeting him with a kiss on his nose.

“You’re here later than usual.”

He sets down his umbrella after closing it and returns the kiss by pressing one onto your cheek. “It’s only 6:10am, dummy. I was struggling to find my umbrella.”

“It just felt way longer since Hyunjae has been here for an hour.”

The statement causes Changmin’s smile to vanish, his lips being slightly parted due to the shock.

But before you allow him to speak, you release him from your hold, dragging him inside the playroom to say hi to the eight-year-old.

“Teacher Changmin!!” the boy squeals, dropping his pencil onto the table before running over to the taller male, engulfing him in a life threatening hug. “I was so bored.”

The statement makes you scoff loudly, standing by your desk as you watch the two. “I said we could watch a movie if you wanted to.”

Hyunjae happily allows himself to be brought into Changmin’s arms, giggling at how he’s now taller than you. “We can’t watch a movie without popcorn.”

Changmin nods, shifting his gaze from Hyunjae over to you. “He’s right, you know. No movie is ever good without popcorn.”

All of a sudden, the male gasps loudly, remembering the plan he had for the day. “Hyunjae, want to go shopping with me? Let’s get some popcorn.”

“Shopping?” Hyunjae’s eyes light up, struggling to remain still in Changmin’s arms after hearing the suggestion. “Shopping??” he repeats.

“Yes, shopping.” Changmin laughs at Hyunjae’s enthusiasm, the corner of his lips tugging slightly upwards. “Teacher Y/N can’t come though.”

He looks over at you, fully expecting your eyebrows furrowing at his response.

“Why can’t I come?”

“The daycare’s opened, remember?” He sets Hyunjae on the ground, urging him to clean up his belongings. “We’re going to be gone for a while.”

“I’m assuming you’re not just going to buy popcorn, are you?” A frown makes its way to your face, slowing your breathing in the process.

“Perhaps.”

You sigh, not wanting to question him any further. You know Changmin has his reasons; he always does, and regardless of what explanation he gives you, you’ll still have to stay within the daycare to look after the other boys.

“You’re going to miss what I have planned for this morning, though…” Your words trail off, your gaze falling to the ground. It’s an understatement to say that you were excited for what you had planned, especially since it relates to one of your ‘dates’ in the past.

“We won’t be gone for long, okay? I’m just going to be stealing him for a few hours.” He cracks a smile and goes to stand in front of you, taking your hand in his. Changmin easily reassures you with a kiss on the lips while his thumb unconsciously rubs the back of your hand. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

Feeling his plump lips gently pressed against your fingers is what convinces you to let him go for the time being, nodding. “...Okay okay, don’t take too long. I’m going to miss the two of my favorite boys.”

“We won’t.” A cheeky smile is brought to his face when he goes back in to kiss you once more, subtly linking his pinky with yours. “We’ll miss you more.”

The kiss would’ve lasted longer if Hyunjae didn’t finish cleaning as fast, running over to Changmin with a loud ‘I’m done!’.

“Have fun, okay?” You wave Hyunjae goodbye as Changmin picks him up again, walking the two outside the daycare.

//

“My butt hurts,” Hyunjae whines, desperate to leave the car.

“A thirty minute ride is not that long,” Changmin mumbles, unbuckling the boy out of his seat.

“Yes it is!” he counters, stretching his limbs. “If my butt hurts, that means the car ride was long!”

“Your butt is fine.” Changmin gives Hyunjae’s butt a gentle pat after helping him out of the car, closing the door shut behind him.

“We could’ve just walked to get popcorn,” he huffs.

Changmin looks up at the sky, glad they no longer need an umbrella due to the rain lessening immensely. He takes Hyunjae’s hand into his, tightly holding onto it as they cross the street over to the line of stores. “We’re not only here for popcorn, you know.”

“Then why are we here?” Hyunjae asks, looking up at the male.

“To buy a special something for a special someone.” A smile grows onto Changmin’s lips when he gives the explanation, not including any more hints for the sole purpose of wanting the boy to figure it out himself.

It finally clicks when Hyunjae is brought to the outside of a jewelry store, shaking Changmin’s hand aggressively while jumping up and down. “Are you buying a ring for Teacher Y/N??”

Changmin laughs, pushing the door open for the two to enter. “Bingo.”

Hyunjae bites back a squeal, letting go of Changmin’s hand to run over to the shelves of rings displayed behind glass panels.

Changmin heads over to the counter, greeting the worker with a warm smile before explaining his situation. Meanwhile, Hyunjae is busy roaming around the store in awe at the amount of diamonds he was seeing. Constant oohs and aahs are heard from the child while the two adults are conversing about the upcoming planned proposal.

“When do you plan on proposing?” the young worker asks, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as she looks at Changmin dreamily.

“Soon, actually. Maybe next week? This kid’s birthday is soon, and I want it to be sort of a gift to him, you know?” Changmin gestures over to Hyunjae before peeking over his shoulder, seeing the eight-year-old on his tippy toes with his face pressed up against the glass.

“That is soon! I hope you find your special ring here, then.” She follows his gaze and spots the boy, her lips forming into an ‘o’. “Is that your son?” she asks, her gaze flickering between Hyunjae and Changmin to see if she could spot any resemblance.

The layer of pink forming on Changmin’s cheeks show how much the question caught him off guard, stutters falling past his lips. “Oh- uh, uhm, n-no, no he isn’t.”

“Teacher Changmin!!” Hyunjae exclaims immediately after, waving to the teacher to come over.

The worker is able to connect the dots after hearing the call and nods, the smile on her lips never faltering.

Changmin goes over to Hyunjae and crouches down by his side, peering into the glass. “What’s up, Hyunjae?”

“Look! That ring reminds me of Teacher Y/N!”

The worker behind the counter joins the two boys, checking to see what the little boy was referring to.

“That one?” Changmin asks, pointing to one of the rings.

Hyunjae shakes his head, adjusting Changmin’s finger by taking it into his own fingers and pointing to the one he was talking about. “That one! The one with the twisty thing.”

Changmin lets out an ‘ah’ at the sight of it, admiring the ring for a few seconds before speaking.

“It’s simple. I like that.”

“That’s our twisted halo ring,” the worker introduces, grabbing the two boys’ attention. “I’d love to bring an extra out to show you if you’d like.”

Changmin puts his hands on his thighs and stands up, nodding. “That’d be wonderful, thank you.”

Hyunjae begins to tug on Changmin’s hand, pulling the teacher back down to his height. “Halo ring??” he whispers.

When Changmin shows his confusion by tilting his head, Hyunjae moves to reach for the paper in Changmin’s back pocket, knowing that it would be there. Ever since he received Hyunjae’s painting from you, he makes sure to always bring it everywhere with him, considering it good luck. Hyunjae only found out about it recently when Changmin flaunted it off one night, saying that the painting is why he won a certain carnival game.

Considering it’s been two years since Hyunjae has painted it, some of the paint has definitely chipped off, but the halo continues to remain on the top of your head, always managing to bring a smile to everyone’s faces at the sight of it.

Hyunjae unfolds it and points to the halo, shoving the painting in front of Changmin’s face. “See? Halo!!”

“Some things are just meant to be, aren’t they?” Changmin sighs, taking the paper into his own hands. He admires it and the little details Hyunjae has managed to add, reminiscing the day he saw it for the first time ever. Little did he know he would actually get to be with you. “Dang, Hyunjae. I can’t believe you painted this when you were six.”

“Can I paint a better one?” he offers. “With a brush? That one looks terrible because I used my finger.”

Changmin ponders the idea, tucking the piece of paper back into his pocket after refolding it. He decides to mess around with the boy, patting his head. “I don’t know, Hyunjae,” he murmurs, cupping his cheek. “This one means a lot to me…”

It hurts his heart when he sees Hyunjae’s face fall, but he keeps up his act, grazing his thumb over his skin.

Shortly after, the worker returns with a box in her hands, placing it onto the counter, and before it could drag Changmin’s attention away, the teacher goes to lean into Hyunjae’s ear.

“A new painting would make a great wedding present, by the way,” he whispers.

And with a wink, he leaves the boy to head over to the counter, unable to stop smiling after seeing Hyunjae’s happy demeanor return.

//

“We’re back!!”

Although Changmin announces it to the class, his eyes are strictly locked onto you. You’re sitting by the teacher’s desk, writing something. You don’t pay attention to him whatsoever, the pen still moving in your hand.

Hyunjae greets the other boys and runs over to Juyeon’s table, joining him and Hyungseo to see what they are doing.

Changmin frowns at the lack of a reaction from you and makes his way over to your desk, but by then, you are hidden, doing something fairly quickly below the desk before revealing yourself to him.

“It’s about time you noticed my presence,” he huffs, setting the grocery bag on the table.

“I was doing something, Jichang.” You roll your eyes and sit up from your seat, eyeing the bag Changmin just sat down. All it has is a box of popcorn packs inside, making you raise a brow. “It took you five hours to only buy popcorn?”

“Let’s just say we got distracted.” He grins, turning his head to face the other children only to realize the amount of flowers within the playroom.

The counters with sinks are decorated with flowers in vases while the rounded tables are full of scattered petals and leaves. The boys are playing with the flowers, some of them making flower crowns while the other ones are sorting the petals into piles by their colors.

Younghoon grins at his finished product and rises from his seat, walking over to Changmin. “I made this for you,” he explains. He brings the linked daisies up into the air, revealing a flower crown with the heads tucked into the stems.

“You made one for Changmin and not me?” you gasp, dramatically throwing a playful fit that Younghoon was surely used to.

“Chanhee is making yours right now, Teacher Y/N. He broke it, so he’s restarting.”

Changmin leans down and tilts his head forward, allowing Younghoon to crown him with the daisies. He gives Younghoon a tight hug and whispers a thank you before waving him off.

“Still can’t believe you got yours first,” you mumble, and Changmin chortles. He leans in to kiss the top of your head, unable to go ten minutes without showering you with affection.

“You’ll get yours soon. Don’t worry, honey.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, humming.

“Honey? That’s a new one.”

“It’s cute. I’ll try to use it more for you.”

You smile, resting your head against his shoulder as you gaze at the boys, all ten of them doing something completely different.

“You know, I was going to have them clean up for lunch, but they all wanted another half hour to finish.” You reach to wrap your fingers around his pinky, holding onto it. “They wanted to wait for you and Hyunjae.”

“What did you have them do? Make flower crowns?” He uses his free hand to play with your hair.

“Kind of.” You look up at Changmin while wearing a crooked smile, one that made his heart burst. “See the vases of flowers on the counters? The boys made those themselves. I actually got a majority of the flowers from the field a few miles away, remember?”

He raises a brow, letting his hand drop to the side. “The one where I got stung?”

“Precisely. Also!!-” You remove your head from his shoulder and move behind your desk, bending down just like you were earlier. You take out a white vase with purple flowers shoved into it, and the sight almost makes Changmin laugh.

“I may or may not have cheated a bit and bought a few extra purple flowers from a nearby flower shop, but I’d say it’s worth it, don't you think?” You smile at the assortment of flowers, but when you turn to look at Changmin, he has a hand over his mouth, truly trying his best to contain his laughter.

“You can laugh, you know,” you sigh, setting the vase onto the table. You fully expected this response from him, especially with how messy the assortment came out to be, so you aren’t at all offended.

“I’m sorry it just- Y/N did you make that?”

“Kind of? The other boys helped me with it, and we all kind of struggled, but purple is your favorite color, right?”

He nods, bringing the vase into his own hands.

“In all honesty, I would’ve fixed it, but the messiness is kind of what makes it- special. It reminds me of how we met too.”

Your sheepish tone softens Changmin immediately, gazing at the flowers. “How so?”

“Well,” you begin, “if you think about it- our first impression of each other wasn’t the best. I thought you were incompetent.”

He shoots his head up to look at you, snorting at the comment. “Then why did you hire me?”

“I was desperate, but that’s not the point,” you grumble, taking the vase from him. “It’s just….the way we met- it’s like, well, it wasn’t perfect, but it...it was real, nonetheless.” You started playing with the petals, running your fingers across the smooth surfaces. “Just like these flowers. They’re not the best looking bunch out there, but they’re real.”

You set the vase aside. “I considered buying fake ones so they would last longer, but I decided against it.” You then look at him. “They look pretty regardless, don’t you think?”

He looks at them and smiles. “They do.”

“But, all that aside, what had you gone for five hours, Mr. Ji?” You look at him skeptically, teasing him through your tone.

He grins, playing along with your words by teasing you in return. “Nothing in particular. Why do you ask?”

“You’re not keeping something from me, are you?” You cross your arms over your chest, pouting.

“Hm...maaaaybe.” He has his arms behind his back, looking at you like a kid that’s hiding a secret from their parents.

“Teacher Y/N!!” Chanhee interrupts, erupting from his seat. He waves the chained daisies in the air. “I finished your crown!!” he yells.

Changmin urges you over to the boy, forcing you to forget your previous conversation.

“Don’t think I’ll forget about this,” you mutter.

“I’ll tell you in a few days, okay? Now go over to him to be crowned the love of my life.”

//

The day has finally arrived, and Changmin’s worry is constantly bubbling up within him, unable to stay in one spot.

While the rest of the kids are in the parking lot, you, Changmin, and Hyunjae are in the playroom to gather last minute items.

Well, only you are doing so.

Changmin is busy pacing around behind you, gaze constantly shifting between the box in his hands and your back turned to him. He’s always been confident in whatever he did, but to be proposing was just on another level Changmin wasn’t used to.

Thoughts flooded his head, clearing his throat every few seconds. You would turn around to see if he was alright, but he would shrug it off, saying that he was just excited for Hyunjae’s birthday.

Hyunjae snorts loudly when hearing Changmin’s lame excuse, leaving the round tables to grab Changmin’s hand. He pulls Changmin away from you and to the other side of the room, explaining that he needed help with putting on the party hat.

He brings Changmin over to your desk, making him crouch down before asking him the question he refused to stop pestering Changmin about.

“You have the ring, right?” he asks, furiously shaking his hand. The excitement radiating off of Hyunjae causes his whisper to be way louder than intended, making Changmin’s eyes widen.

The teacher hushes him, praying that you hadn’t heard what Hyunjae ever so carelessly asked.

He looks at you standing by the sinks, and thankfully you haven’t reacted whatsoever. You are too busy moving around the playroom to even care about what the two were talking about, much less doing, taking the utensils out of the plastic bags you put them in.

“I do, Hyunjae, and no, I’m not showing you for the nth time.” He rolls his eyes, tightening his grip around the navy blue box.

Hyunjae frowns, taking note of the fist Changmin’s creating in his right hand. The teacher grabs one of the party hats off of your desk and snaps it onto the birthday boy’s head, eliciting an ‘ow’ out of him.

“It’s your birthday,” Changmin reminds, booping his nose with his finger.

“Yeah, but-....but still!!” Hyunjae begins to whine, throwing an unnecessary fit.

Throughout the two and a half years of knowing Hyunjae, Changmin learned that Hyunjae doesn’t really make a fit out of anything unnecessary. It was a change from the other boys you two watched over, but it didn’t settle correctly within him.

So despite how loud Hyunjae got with his whines, Changmin could only smile, glad that the boy is comfortable enough to throw a playful fit over something that doesn’t even have to do with him.

He sets the box onto the ground to cup both of Hyunjae’s cheeks, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. Being with the young boy really calmed his nerves, especially when he takes the box back into his fingers with ease.

“C’mon Hyunjae, let’s go outside. The other boys have been waiting for you for a while now.” Changmin extends his left hand, wiggling his fingers.

Hyunjae grabs it after sniffing loudly, adjusting the hat on top of his head as the two begin to make their way to the door.

Changmin peeks over his shoulder to look at you, his eyes becoming locked onto your figure. His heart is pounding against his chest as he’s reminded of how today is the day. The day you’ll become more than a tango duo that has been sharing sweet little nothings and kisses for the past two years.

You’re dressed beautifully, as always, but your fits for special occasions never fail to make him extremely flustered, truly taken aback by your beauty.

“You coming, Y/N?” he asks, garnering you attention by amplifying his voice.

“One sec!” you call out, informing the two. You dump the remaining utensils into the paper plates and rush over to the boys with the stack in your hand. You reach out to hold onto Hyunjae’s other hand, looking down at him with a warm smile that has resided on your face. “Excited?”

“More than ever,” he responds, nodding furiously. He then resumes to pull the two of you out the playroom and outside the daycare, harshly tugging onto your hands.

“Let’s go!” the now nine-year-old commands.

With how much Hyunjae is tugging on your hand, it almost makes you drop your plates, and Changmin laughs at how cute you are when you stumble over your feet.

“Careful, Hyunjae,” Changmin warns when beginning to cross the street, constantly looking both ways before allowing the boy to walk over to the parking lot.

Hyunjae continues to lead the two teachers to the nine other boys occupying themselves by the tables in the parking lot, loud music blasting through the speakers you displayed earlier.

Hyunjae releases both of your hands when Youngjae tosses a balloon at his face, charging at the six-year-old when the younger boy cackles.

“Can you lower the music? I’ll light the candles.” You approach him with a gentle kiss to his cheek, setting the plates down by the cake Sangyeon helped you place.

Changmin does exactly as you say, and by the time the music is lowered, you have gotten all nine candles on the cake to light up. Sangyeon is the one who initiates the birthday song, singing it very loudly for others to join in.

And unlike Karaoke Sundays, you join along in the singing, clapping your hands along to the rhythm while you’re watching a bouncy Hyunjae make his way over to the cake.

He blows out the candles once the song ends, causing everyone to clap.

“Should we do cake first or presents?” you ask, letting the birthday boy decide.

“Cake!!” Haknyeon shouts, bringing the attention over to him.

You’re playfully sending a glare towards the interruption while Hyunjae smiles brightly, agreeing. “We can do cake,” he affirms.

As you’re busy cutting the cake, Changmin has unintentionally drifted to the opposite side of the parking lot, resuming his pacing in his spot. His fingers fiddle with the box in his hand, wondering how he should come across this proposal. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t even asked you (much less anyone else) out before, so to be proposing gave him another level of anxiety.

Changmin has already celebrated Hyunjae’s birthday twice in the past, but this one certainly proves different. This one is special. The present he has for Hyunjae is something he’d never be able to outdo in the future years to come, and even Hyunjae knows that.

So it explains why the youngster sprints over to Changmin instead of standing in line for his slice, tugging on his shirt rather aggressively.

“Now??” he whines, practically begging Changmin to get it over with.

Changmin feels his breath hitch in his throat, growing hesitant with every passing second. His mind is running with countless thoughts, unable to organize them. This causes his brain to malfunction, realizing that this maybe wasn’t a good idea after all.

“Hyunjae, maybe-...maybe this isn’t a good idea. I haven’t even asked Y/N out. It’s too early, I don’t think I can do this. I’m- I don’t know, I’m sorry Hyunjae. Maybe another time?”

But Hyunjae completely disregards every word that leaves Changmin’s mouth and reaches for the male’s closed fist. He pulls the teacher’s fingers open to retrieve the box, running away with it in his hold.

Changmin stares at him in disbelief, his arm still being extended outwards with his hand empty of the box. Changmin has been holding onto that box ever since he arrived at the daycare, and for it to be taken from his grasp for more than ten seconds made his heart plummet. He wants to chase after Hyunjae, to take it back, and never show his face again due to the embarrassment shooting up his neck.

Hyunjae’s party hat falls off his head when he reaches you, but he doesn’t care, panting as he reaches to poke your side.

“Hyunjae!!” you yell, flinching at the touch. “You can’t surprise me when I have a knife in my hand,” you frown, setting it aside after handing Haknyeon his rather large slice of cake.

Without saying a word, Hyunjae raises the box into your view by presenting it in the palm of his hands, looking at you with wide eyes.

Meanwhile, Changmin’s suffering in the background, his feet unable to move as he bites on his fist. His mind is constantly running with thoughts of grabbing Hyunjae and tossing him across the world for doing such a thing. He wants to reverse time and never have bought the ring in the first place, the idea of rejection stabbing at his heart repeatedly.

You raise a brow at the sight of the unfamiliar navy box, bringing it into your hold.

Changmin starts to sob internally when seeing you open the box, moving to hide behind one of the set out unfoldable chairs. And just like a kid, he brings his hands over his ears, preparing himself for the worst possible outcome with his knees pressed up against his chest.

But his self-deprecating state doesn’t falter Hyunjae’s smile in the process; if anything, it only made it grow impossibly wider, bright eyes anticipating your reaction.

All the boys have stopped whatever they were doing to look at you, only now realizing what was happening.

Your eyes finally fall onto the ring in the box, and your heart nearly stops in your chest. Although your lips are parted, you’re left with no words to speak.

You have no clue what to feel.

But you know your answer. Your mind is chanting ‘yes’ repeatedly in your head as you think of the future the diamond ring holds, but the most important man is missing from the scene.

You scan the parking lot for Changmin and spot him instantly behind one of the chairs.

If it wasn’t for his white shirt flowing through the breeze, Sunwoo and Youngjae pointing at him definitely gave it away.

With shaky fingers, you close the box. You’re nervous yourself; hell, this is the last thing you were expecting on a day like this. You make your way over to the chair with slow steps, Hyunjae quick to tail after you.

You’re finally able to bring the entirety of Changmin into your view when you approach him. His eyes are closed incredibly shut with his arms wrapped tightly around his legs, slowly rocking back and forth in his spot.

The sight makes you melt in your spot, and seeing him only confirms the fact you want to be with him. You want to be with him until the end, until your very last dying breath, and you need him to cooperate with you. Just like the day Changmin confessed, you are now basically begging for a response from him, wanting to hear that he does want to get married to you.

He senses your presence and peeks an eye open at you, closing it immediately after at the sight of you holding the box.

“Peek-a-boo,” you whisper, removing the chair so you could see him clearer.

You can hear Sunwoo snickering in the background, but it quickly turns into wheezes when Chanhee elbows him in the chest.

Changmin opens his eyes again at the sound of your voice, slowly allowing his gaze to meet yours. He smiles warmly, slightly waving his hand up towards you. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” you laugh, grabbing one of his arms to pull him up onto his feet.

He immediately breaks out into incoherent rambles, fixing his dress shirt. “I- uh, well Y/N, heh, you see, uhm...funny story, actually-”

You cut him off by waving the box in his face, handing it to him. “I’m assuming this is yours.”

Changmin drops it like it’s fire, raising his hands up in the air defensively. Hyunjae groans at the teacher’s stupidity, and Youngjae is giggling in the background, shortly joined by Sunwoo and Juyeon.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about!! That- that isn’t mine, uhm, yeah. Who-...who told you it was mine?” His nervous laughter trails off when he scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks being completely flushed with a bright shade of pink.

“Who knew Teacher Changmin could be this embarrassing?” Haknyeon grumbles, shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth. Sangyeon reaches over the table to slap the blonde boy’s head, telling him to shut up.

You’re sending daggers towards Changmin’s way through your gaze, bending down to pick up the box. Thankfully, you’re easily calmed down by Haknyeon’s comment, laughing to yourself.

Changmin has his hands dropped to his sides, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he eyes the box in your hands. He doesn’t say anything else, knowing the situation will only turn out worse if he utters another word.

Because of this, you understood that this won’t be going anywhere. Changmin will continue to deny his possession being his, and it would be no use just standing there, trying to hand the engagement ring back to him.

So you take matters into your own hands, heart racing as your mind impulsively makes you move down onto one knee.

You certainly weren’t expecting to propose on Hyunjae’s birthday, but regardless of that fact, your hands move on their own accord, opening the box to present the ring to him.

Hyunjae is holding back squeals in the background, you could tell, and he’s grabbing onto Juyeon’s hand, holding it tightly as he anticipates what’s going to happen next.

And with a whisper, you finally ask the awaited question.

“Changmin, will you marry me?”

He, along with the other boys, gapes at your response, and Hyunjae screams ‘YES’, shaking Juyeon by his shoulders.

The smile lingering on your lips shows Changmin that you already know his answer, but you continue to stay on one knee, waiting for a reply.

Changmin feels like screaming, wanting to say ‘yes’ instantly just to reassure you. He wants to pull you up onto your feet and press his lips against yours, keeping you in his arms until the world ends. He wants to scream ‘we’re getting married’ and show you off to the world, but he does none of it as he stands there in shock, growing weak at the ever so pretty sight of your smile.

“Oh brother,” Hyunjae mutters, letting go of Juyeon’s shoulder to run over to the two of you.

He pulls the ring out of the box and knees Changmin’s thighs, getting him to react. “Say yes,” he demands, grabbing his hand to shove the ring onto his finger.

Changmin wheezes out a ‘yes’ in pain, rubbing his thigh as Hyunjae figures out how to get it to fit. The ring was too small for all of his fingers. Well, all but one.

So he slips it onto his pinky finger, giving you a tight hug once you thank him.

He runs back to where he was previously standing, and you get onto your feet, brushing off any dirt that remained on your knee.

You finally look at Changmin and notice the way he’s gazing at the ring. It was meant for you, so to see the ring on his finger only made his mind go dizzier.

Before you could say anything, Changmin looks up and doesn’t hesitate to bring you close against him, linking the pinky with one of yours.

“I’d say yes a million times. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, I’ll be your husband. Yes, I’m yours.” He uses his other hand to cup your cheek, making your eyes lock with his. “Holy fuck, I’m yours.”

You laugh loudly, happiness filling up your lungs. You swing your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“You’re real,” you whisper against his lips, half hooded eyes looking into his. “You’re real, and you’re mine.”

“I’m forever yours,” he murmurs, “and you’re forever mine.”

That’s the last thing you hear from him before he pulls you into another kiss, pressing a hand up against your back.

//

You have a book in your hands when Changmin exits your bathroom, purposely having his entrance to your bedroom go unnoticed as you continue to ‘read’.

He’s about to flaunt how good he looks after moisturizing when you don’t even spare him a glare, sending him into a pout when he reaches your bed. “You’re not even reading that,” he mumbles.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re reading it backwards,” Changmin points out, referring to how you keep flipping the pages into the opposite direction. He adjusts his flannel pajamas before joining you on your bed, letting out a content sigh at the fluffiness of your blankets.

“I have powers you’re not aware of,” you hum matter-of-factly.

A ‘hey!’ escapes you when Changmin snatches the book from your grasp, confiscating it for the time being.

He reaches over you to set the book on the nightstand, taking note of the time displayed on the alarm clock.

“It’s-...nine pm, Y/N,” he states before looking back at you. “It’s our first time together in your apartment at this time. I’m not letting you ignore me with a book.”

When you think about his words, he isn’t wrong. For the past year, you’ve been inviting Changmin to stay the night in your apartment whenever it got too late (an example being Hyunjae being picked up in the middle of the night). But otherwise, he’s never been here earlier than 11pm.

The crack of thunder accompanies the silence that washes through the atmosphere, and Changmin moves to bring the blankets over both of your torsos, making sure you’re comfortable. He doesn’t even question your lack of words, knowing you’re thinking about something whenever creases form on your forehead.

He rests on his side with his head propped up onto his hand, waiting for you to notice him staring at you while the rain patters against the windows.

It takes a few minutes before you finally notice him, heat shooting up to your ears when your eyes unintentionally lock with his. He smiles at your shyness, pulling you to lie down with him.

“What are you thinking about, honey?” Changmin has you close to him when he runs his fingers through your hair, fluffing it up.

The pet name never fails to calm you.

“About us,” you respond simply.

“Us?” He helps to untangle the knots in your hair, gently loosening them.

The room is dimly lit, but that changes only for a mere second when the lightning decides to be present. Though, it only adds to your comfort, knowing you’re safe in Changmin’s embrace.

“We entirely skipped the dating stage, didn’t we?”

His movements stutter at your question. “...Kind of? I mean yeah, basically, but I don’t mind.” Changmin pauses, shifting his gaze from your hair and down to your eyes. “Do you?”

You shake your head, pulling his hand out of your hair. “The thing is- I just never really got a chance to call you….my boyfriend.” The last part becomes a whisper, focusing on interlacing your fingers with his.

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, the sounds of the rain eventually drowning out as he makes you his focal point.

And out of nowhere, he sighs dramatically, letting go of your hand to look at the ceiling. “Alas, it’s a loss.”

You slap his chest for talking like that, a throaty cackle escaping him shortly after. He brings an arm over his forehead, continuing to stare at the ceiling and the shadows of the window panel.

“But honestly? Y/N?” He turns his head to look at you. “I prefer fiancé.”

You giggle at how he’s always managed to be so smooth, rolling your eyes. He goes back to turning his entire body to have it face yours, sticking out his pinky. “Can you believe we’re engaged?”

The question makes you scoff, laughing. “Can you believe we’re going to be married?” you counterattacked, linking your pinky with his. “Us?”

He raises his brows. “Wow, I’m hurt. Personally, I think I look stunning in a suit.”

Your toothy smile shines through the dark when you look at him. “I actually don’t doubt that one bit.”

The playful atmosphere seems to fade when you’re given time to just get lost in each other’s eyes, slowly retracting your pinky from his.

He looks down at his fingers, and reality finally settles in.

“We’re going to get married,” he whispers.

Changmin then realizes there’s something he’s planned on doing yet never did earlier that day, so he gets you to sit up with him. You’re confused, as expected, but you slowly start to understand when he wiggles the ring off of his finger.

He asks for your hand and slowly slips it onto your ring finger, and the added weight takes a toll on your heart. It stops beating in your chest, and only now do you understand why Changmin was looking at his finger ever so lovingly earlier at Hyunjae’s party. This time, you’re the one that’s finally able to admire the diamond and the curves of the ring, finding it absolutely gorgeous.

“When are we going to get married?” you ask, looking up at him. “Where? And our honeymoon? There’s so many things we need to plan-” you pause. “We’re making Hyunjae our best man, no exceptions.”

“Definitely,” Changmin affirms, clicking his tongue. “The boy is one hundred percent mature enough to make an entire speech about our relationship.”

You laugh, agreeing with the nod of your head. “Okay, but seriously, Changmin. How are we going to plan all of this? We’re just- two losers working at a daycare.”

“Two soon-to-be-married losers,” he corrects. He brings you into his lap, allowing you to rest your forearms on his shoulders while he rests his hands by your sides. He then lowers his tone, whispering. “Let’s worry about everything another time, okay? We have so many years ahead of us.”

He continues his rant while his fingers play with the fabric of your shirt. “We don’t have to get married this year or the next. Hell, we don’t have to get married the year after that. As long as you’re always by my side, we’ll be together forever.” He leans in to press a fluttering kiss against your jaw.

“Okay okay,” you murmur, reassured by his words. You bring your hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks, and he immediately falls into the warmth of your palms, an unbearable amount of butterflies forming in his stomach especially when you whisper ‘my fiancé’ before kissing his nose.

The comfortable silence returns, and all you two do is hold each other while the storm crashes down onto your windows. But no single clash of thunder makes either of you two flinch, too lost in each other’s touch to even notice.

“Y/N?” Changmin croaks, voice lower than usual.

“Yes?”

He hesitates, his words coming out breathy.

“Y/N?” he repeats.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

The name causes a smile to bloom onto his face, laughing as he shakes his head. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“So you just like saying my name for fun now?” you tease, squishing his cheeks with your fingers.

The playfulness dials down eventually, and you rest your head against his shoulder with your eyes fallen shut. The tranquility wrapped around the two of you brings Changmin confidence once again, repeating your name for the third time.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“...I lov-”

He’s cut off by your ringtone blaring throughout the bedroom, causing both of your heads to turn to the direction of the noise. You apologize through a murmur after rubbing your eyes, leaving Changmin’s lap to check your phone. You’re immediately kicked out of your tiresome state when you see the caller id, accepting the call.

Changmin watches you curiously, and he doesn’t get a chance to hear a single word from the other line since you brought your phone up to your ear. He shrugs it off as a personal matter but notices how you don’t speak a single word into the call, making him confused when it ends.

Your face is now far from the cheerfulness you were feeling earlier, standing up from the edge of your bed.

“Who was that?” he questions, crawling over to the edge of the bed. “Why were they calling at this hour?”

You toss your phone into his lap and make your way over to the closet in hurried steps, taking out your raincoat.

Changmin grows worried at your silence, and it isn’t until he notices the bright light illuminating from your phone, taking a glance at the caller id.

Hyunjae’s mother.

//

“There he is,” you whisper, freeing yourself from the buckle in Changmin’s passenger seat before exiting the car.

Throughout the entire drive to the daycare, Changmin’s face remained completely void of emotions, his jaw clenched as he sped through the storm.

He slams the car door shut when leaving, and the two of you run across the street without sparing a glance to oncoming cars, racing to the entrance of the daycare.

Usually, Changmin would be complaining about the storm being ever so heavy in the middle of autumn, but with how focused he is on the situation at hand, he doesn’t give one single damn about the rain crashing down onto the two of you.

The boom of thunder doesn’t startle either of you in the slightest; if anything, it was the sight of Hyunjae sitting under the roof of the entrance that makes your heart drop, the boy trying to gain warmth by hugging his legs.

He’s facing the ground until he hears the sound of running footsteps his way, his heart pounding hard against his chest. Maybe it’s a sense of a relief that washes over him when he sees you two, but the tears that were pooling up in his eyes finally rush down his cheeks in streams, breaking the dam that he’s been holding up for so long.

He sobs when you crouch down to his level, quick to pull him into your embrace.

“We’re here, Hyunjae, we’re here,” you murmur.

The warmth of being in someone else’s embrace only makes him cry harder, little fingers clutching onto your wet coat.

After pulling out his keys and unlocking the doors, Changmin nearly breaks the glass doors down when shoving them open, ushering the two of you inside.

He’s the first one to enter the playroom after flicking on the lights, and you pull Hyunjae to the side, making him look at you.

The boy is breaking down in front of you, having his tears fall into the palm of your hands when you cup his cheeks. He’s holding onto your wrists, fingernails digging into your skin as he continues to sob. He’s growing weaker each second, unsure if he’ll be able to stand for any longer.

The sight of seeing your favorite boy like this rips you apart, choking up on your own tears as you do your best to reassure him, reminding him that both you and Changmin are here and that he’s okay.

Through his tears, Hyunjae is looking at you like you’re completely unreal, and his tearful, broken gaze pierces your heart.

Changmin returns with a roll of paper towels and sets them aside before taking Hyunjae from you, one knee on the ground as he makes the crying boy look at him.

“What happened?” he interrogates, showing no sense of pain as he stares at him. Fury continues to boil up within his chest when Hyunjae doesn’t respond, amplifying his voice throughout the daycare.

“What happened, Hyunjae?” he repeats. The question is more of a hostile demand with his fingers wrapping tightly around the boy’s wrist. His tone only makes Hyunjae cry even more, unable to keep himself up for any longer.

You rush over to Hyunjae and take him back into your arms, letting him curl up against your torso while you stare at Changmin.

Changmin doesn’t ease up in the slightest, only growing even more furious as he allows his hands to ball up into fists. His eyes are constantly flickering between Hyunjae and the storm outside, mind running with possibilities of what could’ve happened if you two didn’t get to him sooner.

“M-my m-mommy-” Hyunjae croaks, trying to get words out of his throat before falling right back into his sobs, burying his face in your chest with his fingers bunching up your shirt into a fist.

“That’s it,” Changmin spits, not regretting a single ounce of hatred he has for Hyunjae’s mother.

“Changmin,” you say sternly in hopes of calming him down, knowing how out of control he could become when unsupervised.

Changmin rises from the ground and makes his way behind the front desk, yanking the drawer open. He flips through the files and comes across the one he wished he never thought he’d have to take out, slapping it onto the desk so hard that it makes your nerves jump.

“Changmin,” you repeat, raising your voice this time.

“No, don’t say another word,” he orders. Just like the storm outside, his voice is thunderous, stinging you with how cold his demeanor had become.

“Enough is enough. How can a mother be so heartless? How could someone leave their son outside an empty building in the middle of a storm?” He flips the file open, scowling. “On his fucking birthday too,” he mutters, pulling out his phone.

He scans the list of phone numbers on the paper before finally catching sight of the one he’s been seeking. Changmin begins dialing in the number, mumbling ‘I should’ve done this two years ago’ under his breath.

You know exactly what he’s doing, and you let go of Hyunjae to stop him from calling Child Protection Services by grabbing his wrist, taking the phone away from him.

“Please,” you beg, desperation present in your tone.

You’re looking at him with eyes he’s never seen before, trying to convince him through your gaze.

But it doesn’t work, and Changmin yanks your arm away just to take the phone back from you. He fails as you continue to hide it from him, eyes frantically searching for a way to have him do otherwise.

Then you give in, remembering all the scoldings he’s given you in the past.

“I’ll talk to her!” you blurt, freezing his actions. “I’ll say something to her, okay? I promise.” You set the phone face down onto the surface of the table, allowing yourself to breathe before continuing. “I’ll work this out with her when she returns. I’ll tell her how this isn’t right, and that we will call if she ever does something like this again. Just for now, let’s just focus on Hyunjae.”

You slip in another ‘please’ after your rant, and it makes him look back at the crying boy in the corner. He looks back at you, and you’re brought to tears yourself, letting one slip down your cheek as you look at him.

So Changmin gives in, finally understanding that Hyunjae deserves to be their first priority at the moment.

The sounds of Hyunjae continuously sobbing is something Changmin has never wished to hear. He allows his shield to lower before rushing back over to him, bringing the trembling boy into his hold. Hyunjae rests his head against his shoulder, having his tears fall onto Changmin’s flannel.

“It’s okay, Hyunjae. We’re here,” he whispers, rubbing his back.

You’ve disappeared into the playroom and come back with a blanket, wrapping it around the two boys after joining them. The warmth and attention brings Hyunjae to ease, his tears lessening as he calms himself down.

Changmin is looking at him with a weak, gentle smile, staying silent when you start whispering little nothings to the boy.

Hyunjae becomes mentally capable of explaining what’s happened after an hour of you two holding onto him.

“M-mommy, she-...she-” he stops when his voice cracks, and Changmin reassures him with a kiss on his forehead, telling him to take it slow.

Hyunjae has a bit of trouble breathing while explaining, but he manages to sort his thoughts. “I-I had a nightmare, and the storm s-scared me…” He flinches at the rumble of the thunder, working up the courage to continue.

“She—she yelled at me,” he whispers, sniffing loudly.

Changmin stiffens with every word that Hyunjae stutters, but he remains quiet, letting him go on.

“She yelled at m-me when I told her I was s-scared, a-and she-” The boy starts choking on his tears again at the memory, and Changmin helps him through it.

Everything clicks for the two of you after that. Hyunjae doesn’t need to say another word for you two to understand what happened, so you convince Hyunjae to take deep breaths.

Another hour passes, but this time you’re with Hyunjae in the bean bags, reading him his favorite book as he dozes off to sleep beside you.

Changmin’s left to clean up the water outside the playroom, tossing all the paper towels into a nearby trash can. He eyes the paper on his desk, staring at it. You’d be too busy to even notice if he calls, but he fights against his own beliefs.

He trusts you. He trusts you and your word, so he shoves the paper away back into its file, putting it back into the drawer.

You’ll finally talk it out with his mother, and things will be better.

//

The playroom is filled with silence once the storm has subsided. The dark clouds still remained in the sky and the winds were still causing the trees to thrash around, but the rain has stopped and you can no longer hear any bursts of thunder.

You look over at the two sleeping boys in the bean bags, smiling warmly at them. Although the playroom is dimly lit, you can see Hyunjae snuggling up against Changmin’s chest, holding onto his arms. They looked comfortable, but you haven’t gotten an ounce of sleep.

For the past few hours, your mind has been constantly thinking of things to say to Hyunjae’s mother when she arrives. You’re thinking of the anger she’s given Changmin and the pain she inflicted on Hyunjae, but you’re still left with no words to say.

You hate to admit it, but you came to terms with the fact you’re scared. You’re scared for what’s to come, knowing that she could lash you out at any minute. She’s done it before, and she’ll certainly do it again.

It doesn’t help that she reminds you of your own parents, feeling the balance in power when she stands in front of you. Although she manages to muster up sweet words to you with that warm smile of hers, you know she is anything but. She is manipulative and easily has you wrapped around her finger.

Hell, she knows she does. It comes as no surprise when she called you, stating that she’ll be dropping Hyunjae off at the daycare. She doesn’t ask you because she knows you’ll drop everything for her son.

She knows how much you love him, and she holds that over your head like you’re a little kitty, enjoying the way you try to take away what’s hers.

Your face is buried into the palm of your hands as you try thinking of ways to confront her, but you’re given no more time when you hear her car pull up into the parking lot. Your eyes shoot up to the only clock in the room, acknowledging how it was 3 in the morning. With sluggish steps (and a defeated sigh), you remove yourself from the chair and make your way over to the two boys.

“Wake up,” you whisper, gently shaking the two boys awake.

Hyunjae is the first one to react, rubbing his eyes open with a confused expression worn on his face. “Huh?”

“Your mother is here,” you explain, bringing the small boy to his feet.

Changmin stretches his limbs before standing up. He shoots a look towards you when hearing the jingle from the entrance.

It hurts to see Changmin ever so expressionless, especially when you know what’s about to come; it’s why you prevent him from leaving the doorway of the playroom.

“Don’t- don’t say anything, okay? Just stand here. I’ll work this out on my own.”

He tries going against your words but you shoot your gaze to the ground, avoiding all eye contact with him. “T-trust me for once. Fighting with her will only makes things worse.”

His eyes soften at the sight of you, and he gives in with a nod. He does as he was told, standing by the doorway when you go to approach Mrs. Lee with Hyunjae.

She looks exhausted, but it doesn’t cover up how her eyes are darting into her son’s skull when he walks over to her, showing no remorse for what she had done.

The lady clears her throat and faces you, plastering the same kind smile she’s shown you ever since day one.

“Thank you, Y/N, for watching over him.” She glances over at Changmin, clearly noticing the other teacher in the room, but says nothing.

“Yeah, o-of course,” you whisper, peeking over at Changmin. You’re unsure how to continue, and he could easily tell, but he doesn’t make a single attempt to step in, repeating your words in his head.

“Mrs. Lee!!” you call out, stopping Hyunjae’s mother from leaving. Not only don’t you want to disappoint Changmin, but you know Hyunjae’s well-being is also on the line.

She turns around on her heels, furrowing her brows ever so innocently at you. “What’s the matter, Y/N?”

The question serenades you, making your mind run blank.

Changmin stares at you, breath caught up in his throat as he waits.

“I-....I never got to hug your son goodbye.” Your voice turns into a squeak, and you could feel Changmin’s eyes burning into the back of your head.

She looks down at her son, visibly holding back a scowl. “Well then….you heard them, Jaehyun. Go give Teacher Y/N a goodbye hug.”

Hyunjae stumbles over his feet as he makes his way over to you, hugging you tight. “Goodbye,” he whispers.

“Goodbye, Hyu-...J-Jaehyun.” You pull away from the hug to look at him, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

He nods, repeating you through a murmur. “Tomorrow.”

Mrs. Lee’s phone begins to ring, and she picks it up, glaring at her son. “Let’s go, Jaehyun. It’s late.” She’s the first one to exit the doors, leaving while Hyunjae struggles to follow after.

When the door shuts, Changmin moves to reveal himself to you, and saying that he was fuming would be an understatement.

“What was that?”

You turn to him with your teeth latching onto your lower lip, not daring to meet his gaze.

“Look, Changmin-”

“No, don’t ‘look, Changmin’ me. You said you’ll tell her. You promised you’ll do something about it this time.” His voice breaks at the end of his sentence, disbelief washed over his features. “I-I trusted you, Y/N. I fucking trusted you to fix this for us, and you just let her go.”

He shakes off your apologies, pushing you away from him as he goes to pull the glass doors open.

“An ‘I’m sorry’ means nothing, Y/N. I thought you’d learn that by now,” he scoffs, gritting his teeth. He mutters a ‘pathetic’ before leaving you alone in the entrance, exiting the daycare.

The word takes a stab to your heart, and you feel your entire world crashing down on you. You follow him out, ready to beg for him to come back, but he’s already chasing after Hyunjae’s mother, taking matters into his own hands.

But you two stop in your steps when you see what was happening.

Mrs. Lee is talking on the phone, completely oblivious to how Hyunjae was falling behind her.

The boy is yelling out for her and telling his mother to slow down, but she doesn’t listen.

Changmin spots the car racing towards Hyunjae on the road, and he runs. You tail his steps, sprinting over onto the street to save Hyunjae from the car.

Changmin is faster when it comes to running, reaching Hyunjae in a quicker amount of time. He picks the boy up and tries to run, but it’s already too late.

The sound of the horn blaring fills up his ears, and the headlights blind Changmin’s vision.

He shuts his eyes and holds onto Hyunjae with his life, but nothing happens.

The car had swerved, and it struck you instead.

The vehicle comes to a halt, and the sound of your head colliding with the pavement fills the air.

Everything has gone silent, including Mrs. Lee’s voice when she sees what happened. Hyunjae is left in too much shock to process anything that he just witnessed, causing him to be handed over to his mother shortly after. Changmin no longer cares about what Mrs. Lee does with her son, rushing to the scene with pleas falling past his lips.

The driver has left their car, countless apologies pouring out of them as they stumble to call for emergency.

All Changmin could see was blood covering your figure. The liquid continuously pours out of you and into the puddles left by the storm, coloring the water a dark shade of red.

“No no no, Y/N.” He frantically pulls you into his hold, hugging you close against him with his hand patting your cheek. “Y/N, please talk to me.”

But you’re not moving. He feels for a pulse and finds it wavering, unsure if you were still with him. He begs for you to wake up, and the driver only watches with a hand over their mouth, in complete disbelief at what they had just done while informing the dispatcher.

Changmin is screaming your name, shaking you repeatedly as he sobs into your chest. He’s hugging onto the hand he kissed only hours ago, trying to not only reassure you but himself as well.

“We’ll—we’ll get through this together, o-okay? C-come on, Y/N, stay….s-stay with me. I know you’re there—I know-....I know you’re holding on. I-I believe in you.” His voice croaks as he utters the last sentence, his tears filling up his vision.

He doesn’t curse when blood seeps into his pajamas, praying as he tightly squeezes your hand. “S-stay with me, Y/N.”

//

One of the nurses gives him a fresh set of clothes when he enters the hospital, telling him they’ll do all they can to save you.

He nods and takes the clothes, going over to the bathroom. He locks himself inside and turns on the lights. He refuses to look at himself in the mirror, and he couldn’t tell if it’s because he would see his tear-stained cheeks or your blood drying up in the fabric of his pajamas.

The clothes he was given were nothing too special. It’s just a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, and surprisingly they somewhat fitted him. He takes one last glance at the pajamas before tossing them into the trash can provided within the bathroom.

Changmin tries to calm his anxiety by setting the toilet lid down, sitting on it. Unfortunately for him, his mind refuses to stop racing with possible outcomes of the situation, leaving him irritated.

He stops thinking when realizing he left something in his pajamas, taking them out of the trash. He searches his pocket to find the thing that appeared in his mind, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of the paper. He takes it out and drops the pajamas back into the can, sitting back down on top of the lid.

With shaky fingers, he unfolds the blood-stained painting. He doesn’t shed a tear at the sight, only praying that you’ll be okay with the luck the painting has always given him.

It always brought him the most luck out of any scenario, and he knows he needs it now more than ever.

After minutes of staring at it, he tucks it back into his pocket. He looks into the mirror and tells himself that everything will be okay. He forces himself to ignore any other signs telling him otherwise, clearing his mind before leaving the bathroom.

His footsteps echo throughout the hallway as he walks past the doors, hating how quiet the hospital seemed to be in the middle of the night.

Earlier, he was told not to enter your door, so when he came across the door numbered two, he sat down in the chair opposite from it.

He rests his elbows on his legs, closing his eyes as he tries to block out any sounds of the incident that wouldn’t stop ringing in his ears.

The sounds go silent at the click of the door in front of him, making him rise to his feet.

The nurse quickly shuts the door behind her, standing in front of it as she’s met with Changmin’s presence. A saddened, solemn expression takes over her features, but Changmin dismisses it when approaching her.

“How’s Y/N?” he asks, desperate to know about his lover’s condition. His eyes have a glint of hope in them, one that the nurse knows will vanish.

She hesitates to speak, fumbling with her fingers as she avoids all contact with Changmin. “You’re-...you’re the one who’s engaged to Y/N, correct?”

He nods, confirming his identity, and her eyes start to fill with sorrow. She parts her lips as if to say something but closes them shortly after to process her thoughts.

“Sir,” she begins. “Y/N-...in the incident, Y/N….Y/N lost a lot of blood.”

Changmin doesn’t hesitate to cut her off from continuing any further. “I can donate mine,” he offers. “We share the same blood type! AB, right?” He thinks back to when you found out about sharing the same blood type, jokingly declaring the two of you destined with fate after squealing about it.

The nurse pauses, and then shakes her head. “I’m afraid that’s not the case, sir-”

“Does Y/N need surgery?” Changmin asks, frantically pushing out his words. “I have the funds for everything, and I’ll pay anything just to make sure Y/N is alr-”

“Sir,” she says sternly, forcing him to cut off. After minutes of avoiding Changmin, she brings herself to have her gaze meet his, and only does Changmin now notice the tears prickling at her eyes. He shuts up, allowing the nurse to speak.

She looks down while digging for something through the pocket of her coat, slowly pulling the item out. “I-I came to return this to you,” she whispers.

“...What?”

The nurse hands the item to the male, and Changmin is finally able to tell what it is.

“...No. No, no there’s no way. Why-...would you give me the ring...Y/N-”

“We lost a pulse, sir,” she whispers, hanging her head as she drops the information.

Changmin’s entire body freezes and the ring in his hands falls, filling the empty hallway with the sound it makes when it hits the ground.

In complete denial, Changmin pushes past the nurse and pulls the door open, bursting into the room. His eyes search the room, and that’s when his gaze settles on the flat line presented on the monitor.

He stumbles back a few steps, and the only doctor in the room turns to look at him. She’s just as speechless as Changmin is, and she steps away from your bed to walk over to him.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she murmurs, leaving him alone with your lifeless body in the room

Although you’re covered head to toe with a white sheet, Changmin manages to get a glimpse of the blood dripping from your fingers, your now empty fingers, noticing the puddle that has been created on the ground.

The scene makes Changmin dizzy, and he feels like passing out as he uses the door frame as support. Too much is going on in his mind to have him fully comprehend what he is seeing; that it’s your body he’s looking at.

The nurse remains with him in the hallway, picking up the ring he dropped seconds earlier to hand it to him.

Just like the doctor, she apologizes as well, but Changmin doesn’t get to hear the end of it when he leaves with the ring. He storms past the staff walking through the hallways and leaves the hospital, not willing to have strangers witnessing his tears.

All Changmin does is get in his car and drive.

He drives to the daycare, refusing to let the reality dawn on him because when he reaches the daycare, he’ll be able to see you.

He’ll see you working at your desk, planning the activity for a day with a smile on your lips as you think about Hyunjae. He’ll see you twirling around in your swivel chair, telling him to join you.

But none of that happens when he enters the daycare, turning on the lights to the playroom. All he is met with is the vacancy of the room and your raincoat tossed onto one of the round tables.

And for the first time that night, Changmin realizes he’ll never see you again.

//

Growing up, people have always told Changmin to think about what he has rather than what he doesn’t have.

But how could he think about what he has when he no longer has you?

He doesn’t have you sitting in the passenger seat of his car, rating each song in his playlist or your smile that would wish him good morning whenever he enters the daycare. He doesn’t have your hand to hold and caress or your forehead to kiss.

He doesn’t have a reason to smile, so what was there to think about?

He didn’t even get a chance to say I love you.

It was such a foolish mistake to not say it to you everyday. If he had the chance, he would say it whenever you drift off to sleep and wake up beside him. He would say it after you slap him on the back for saying something stupid and kiss him on the cheek to make up for it.

But he never did. He never once uttered those cursed three words to you.

He was too lost in love to even acknowledge the lack of the three words being shared in the first place, and it doesn’t help that the world has taken you from him shortly after.

Changmin walks around the playroom in order to calm down the inferno burning up his insides, but that all fails when he drives his fist in the wall, wishing that the pain will replace the emptiness in his chest. He tosses all of the children’s paintings into the trash, along with the purple flowers you arranged for him a week ago.

With the only light in the playroom being the moonlight, he pulls out Hyunjae’s painting without thinking and tears it into pieces, ripping it until it could no longer be torn. The pieces fall onto one of the round tables like confetti, and his hands meet the table, letting out the sobs he’s been holding in ever since he’s heard the news from the nurse.

This place became his home in only two years, and he blames the stupid smile that would always reside on your face when you greeted him into the daycare. You and the kids were always the reason why he looked forward to waking up everyday, creating memories that would bring comfort to everyone in the room.

He sits down in one of the chairs, wiping away his tears as he pulls the ring out from his pockets, watching the way it glistens under the light illuminating from the moon. Carelessly, he tosses it onto the paper he’s ripped apart, pushing the table away from him.

You didn’t even get to wear it for a day.

Through his tears, he sees a paper on the ground, one that hadn’t been there when Changmin had entered the room. He quickly realizes that it fell out of the vase when he trashed the flowers away, picking it up between his fingers.

He hesitates to read what it says. He’s already dealing with too much pain that his heart is unable to handle anymore, but his fingers can’t help but move on their own, opening the paper to reveal the purple ink written all over.

Dear my (second) favorite person on earth,

I know you’ll throw these flowers away when they die. After all, that’s the classic Changmin I’ve grown to love so when you do, when you find this letter, I hope you read every single word I’m about to write.

I love yow.

I didn’t think my letter would get that fucked easily. Hyungseo tried peeking over my shoulder to see what I was writing, and I accidentally wrote a ‘w’ instead of a ‘u’ because of him. Honestly speaking, I hate it here. (No I don’t).

That reminds me. Did I ever tell you how much I love writing? We should write each other notes while we have the kids do an activity. You know, like highschoolers in love. I think it’ll be cute seeing you get caught writing mid-sentence by Hyunjae.

I should really stop rambling because Haknyeon’s starting to eat the petals from the flowers and Youngjae and Sunwoo refuse to stop hyping him up. Can you believe these boys? This is what you and Hyunjae are missing out on. I can’t believe you’ve been gone for hours now with him,, why’d you have to steal him from me >:( kidding, by the way. I hope you two are having fun without me. (Yes, I’m still petty).

I love you, Changmin. Two years with you, and I’ve never gotten to say it. It’s not like it matters because our love language is anything but, but it wouldn’t hurt to say it every now and then because I truly do mean it when I say I love you. I would say it to your face if I wasn’t such a wuss about it so here I am, expressing my feelings through a stupid letter. You better enjoy reading after this, by the way. I’m not going to write essays about how much I love you just for you to not read them.

Anyways, I bought this purple pen yesterday! It’s pretty, isn’t it? It isn’t the exact shade of purple you like, but the same could honestly be said about the assortment of flowers the boys and I made for you.

….Okay listen, I know you’re going to laugh when I show them to you. I swore the flowers looked beautiful when I bought them, but somehow when I gave them to the kids, they all managed to fuck them up and have them all bent in all the wrong places. So as an apology, I’m hoping this note makes up for it. Shit, I went off topic again.

I love you, Jichang. I love you more than words can do any justice, so instead of writing I love you a thousand different times…

Changmin, would you like the honor of being my boyfriend?

Shut up, I know you’ll say yes regardless, but I’ll still be expecting you to pick me up and twirl me around in the air, declaring yourself as my official boyfriend. It’d be nice, wouldn’t it?

Changmin sees how your handwriting trails off, figuring that was when he entered the playroom with Hyunjae and the popcorn. He wishes there was more to read, more to hear from you, but this is the most he’s ever going to get.

His sobs return, and he’s crying like Hyunjae except Changmin is in the arms of no one; no one to hold him, no one to tell him they’re there for him.

His mind is flashing images of you, reminding him of the memories he’s shared with you.

He’s reminded of the roll of your eyes when he would make a snarky remark and of your cuddles whenever all the kids have finally left the daycare. He remembers the way you would smile at him whenever he’s playing with the kids and how you always manage to unintentionally daydream about him when he’s sitting right beside you.

All those moments that made him fall in love with you are now memories that took turns taking a stab at his heart, crushing the organ until there was no more.

He wanted to scream at the world for taking you away from him so soon, but his throat is raw and he’s barely able to whisper. He’s craving your touch, your lips against his, and he’s wishing he could hear the jingle from the glass doors, signifying that you have arrived.

He wishes he had the chance to dance with you at least once in the middle of the empty playroom, maybe even practice the one you’ll share at your wedding.

The idea of the wedding makes Changmin look at the ring on the table, bringing it back between his fingers.

“I feel so lost,” he whispers, his voice breaking as he clutches onto the ring. “Y/N, what-...what do I do without you?”

He has no one to guide him, no one to tell him to believe in himself, and no one to love.

//

Changmin carries the last box into the trunk of his car, stacking it on top of the others. He wipes the sweat off his forehead, looking up at the sun shining bright in the sky despite it nearing winter. He pulls out his phone to check the time, realizing he has another thirty minutes before he has to leave.

In the past two months, Changmin has closed the daycare and called the dance academy. It took a few paperworks to be filled out before he’s officially accepted, and today is finally the day he’ll be leaving.

Changmin hears a car pulling up next to his in the parking lot, looking over to see who it was.

He regrets doing so, especially when Mrs. Lee leaves the driver’s seat.

“Ch-”

“The daycare’s closing, Mrs. Lee,” Changmin states, closing his trunk shut. “I have to leave soon too.”

His tone would’ve been more bitter if it wasn’t for the fact that Changmin is drained. For the past two months, Changmin has been drained of his tears and pain, causing him to be left with only soreness and a throbbing heartache.

“I know, I know, but Changmin, please listen to me.” She follows him across the street, tailing after his steps to the daycare. “My son keeps getting constant nightmares, and all I ask for is for you to give him all your time before you leave.”

“Your son?” he scoffs, stopping when he reaches the glass doors. “I owe you nothing.”

He wraps his fingers around the handle of the door, ready to push it open before hearing Mrs. Lee.

“Jaehy- Hyunjae. Hyunjae wants to see you. He wants to say goodbye.”

Changmin shuts his eyes at the name he’s been avoiding for so long, turning around in his spot to face his mother.

“Please, Changmin, talk to him one last time, I beg of you.” She’s distraught, not knowing how else to get her desperation across.

His mind runs over the idea of talking to Hyunjae for the last time, heart wrenching at the thought.

“Alright. Tell him to enter alone and make it quick. I don’t have all day.” Changmin’s just about to enter the daycare before realizing something, turning back around to look at the lady.

“Oh, and Mrs. Lee? Don’t bother ever stepping foot into this building ever again. I mean it. You’ve already inflicted enough pain.”

He pushes the door open and makes his way into the playroom.

The emptiness of the room engulfs him as he enters, looking at how lifeless the walls looked after taking down the colored posters that had the abcs written all over them. Truly nothing remained in the room except for the counters with sinks. The bookshelves have been donated along with all of the books, and the bean bags have been given to Sunwoo and Youngjae’s families. He looks around the room one last time, unable to pinpoint how he used to call this dinky place ‘home’.

A few minutes after roaming around the place with a hollow heart, Changmin hears the front two doors jingle, tiny footsteps making their way into the daycare.

Hyunjae peeks into the playroom and when he catches sight of Changmin, tears begin to fall down his face. He runs over to the male, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist as he breaks out into full-on sobs.

Changmin hesitantly crouches down so Hyunjae is able to hug him better, remaining emotionless as the young boy wets his shirt with his tears. His little fingers desperately cling onto his sleeves, and no words are exchanged between the two boys for minutes. Though, to Changmin, it feels like hours, holding the boy in his arms as he stares off into the void.

Hyunjae is the first to speak up, voice quivering. “Don’t leave,” he whispers.

Changmin struggles to find the right words to use in the moment but gives up, deciding to just be blatantly honest with the boy. “I have to, Hyunjae. I can’t stay. I’m leaving.”

Hyunjae looks up at him, redness tinting his puffy eyes while tears continuously pour down his face. “You can’t- you just can’t-” he sobs, going back to hiding his face in the teacher’s chest. “What w-would I do without you?”

Changmin pats the back of his head and thinks, smiling back at a memory. “Hyunjae, do you remember that book you always liked? The one Y/N bought for you two years ago?”

The nine-year-old stiffles his cries for only a second, nodding.

“The main character...He dies in the end, right?”

Again, Hyunjae nods.

“But you’ve read that book how many times?”

The boy frowns. “What does this have to do with anything?” he hiccups, wiping his tears away.

Changmin sighs. “Life is kind of like, well, a storybook. Whatever is written is permanent, and there’s nothing you can change. You can keep flipping the pages back and forth, wishing that you’ll be able to change the outcome, but you can’t because the ink has already seeped into the paper.

So it’s hard to, you know, turn the page when you know someone you loved ever so dearly won’t be in the next chapter, but you do it regardless. You come to accept the fact they’re gone because you’ll have to move on with the story, and eventually you’re able to turn that page.”

He cups Hyunjae’s cheeks in his hands, reassuring him. “You’ll move on, Hyunjae. Just like how you’ve gotten over the boy’s death in the book a trillion times. Trust me.”

“But that’s different,” Hyunjae reasons, removing Changmin’s hands from his face. “I-In the book, they still get their happy ending. In the book, the people still live happily ever after, even with the death of the boy.”

“Yes, ‘in the book’, Hyunjae. This is real life.” He looks at the ground. “Not all couples get happy endings.”

“But we could get ours.” Hyunjae makes Changmin look at him, tears being brought back into his eyes. “You’re here with me right now, and you can stay. You can stay with me, and we could write our own story with a happy ending.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that easy, Hyunjae,” the male whispers.

“Teacher Y/N already left,” Hyunjae mumbles. “I can’t-...I don’t want to lose you too.”

With shaky hands, Hyunjae reaches up to cup Changmin’s cheeks, tears cascading down his cheeks as he tries to speak. “P-please, please don’t leave me,” he hiccups through his tears.

Changmin closes his eyes, preventing himself from falling vulnerable into the hands of a nine-year-old. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

“B-but we’re family, and family....family sticks together, right?”

“We’re not family, Hyunjae.”

Changmin’s words pierces into Hyunjae’s heart, and the boy no longer says anything else, the two allowing the young boy’s sobs to fill up the room.

Changmin opens his eyes to look at Hyunjae, and he knows this image of Hyunjae will forever be engraved into his mind.

And out of nowhere, Changmin smiles. He smiles because he knows they’ll be okay.

“Thank you.”

Hyunjae sniffs loudly, still holding onto Changmin’s cheeks. “F-for what?” The boy is biting back his upcoming batch of tears, but it fails when Changmin starts to speak.

“Thank you, Hyunjae, for being the sunshine that always brightens the daycare’s day and being the shooting star that glitters the dark skies at night. Thank you for your little surprise hellos and your comforting goodbyes. Thank you for the happiness you’ve brought to not only me, but Teacher Y/N as well.” Changmin finally allows his tears to fall, not breaking eye contact with Hyunjae. “Thank you for being so fucking strong for the both of us and growing up to be the angel Y/N will always love and cherish.”

Hyunjae’s sobs even harder after hearing Changmin, unable to contain himself. “Please-...don’t go.”

But the male continues. He removes his face from Hyunjae’s palms and moves to rest his forehead against the boy’s, working his words through his own tears.

“Thank you for being your bestest self in front of everyone. Thank you for bringing a smile to everyone’s faces every single day, and thank you for always giving me a reason to wake up. Thank you for being the first person to give me hugs and loving me when no one else would. Thank you for making me feel like a kid again these past two years. Thank you, Hyunjae, for being the gift in my life.”

Changmin pulls away from the young boy and presses a sweet, gentle kiss to his nose, hugging him tightly afterwards. “I love you,” he whispers.

The teacher then stands up and doesn’t take another glance at the boy he had only broken further, leaving the playroom. He walks out the glass doors of the daycare and heads for his car, looking ahead towards the path he was always meant to take.

The kid inside him once played hide and seek for twenty three years, and during those twenty three years, Changmin refused to play along.

Now, the only person that remains inside the vacant daycare is the kid Changmin grew to love and eventually left behind; the boy that led him to his inner kidult.

Maybe, just like in Hyunjae’s painting, Changmin was the devil after all.

As always, you’re reading a book despite how late it is at night. Your legs are sprawled out on top of the blankets, waiting for Changmin to exit the bathroom as usual.

He’s dressed in his usual flannel pajamas, a bright smile on his face. You close your book and set it aside before spotting a piece of paper peeking out from the pockets in his pants.

“You bring that thing everywhere, don’t you?”

“Huh? This?” Changmin pulls it out of his pocket and waves it in the air, making you confirm his words with a nod.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he snorts, raising his brows. “If you had this gem, you’d bring it everywhere too.”

You roll your eyes and grab a pillow, tossing it at his face. “Yeah sure, but I wouldn’t shower with it, dummy.”

He stumbles back due to the hit and picks it up from the ground, tossing the pillow right back at you. “I don’t shower with it!” he exclaims.

Changmin joins you on your bed after setting Hyunjae’s painting down onto the nightstand, yawning loudly.

“Whatever you say, Jichang.”

You put the pillow back into its spot and bring the blankets over both of your bodies after turning off the lamp, leaving the two of you in complete darkness. Though, the lack of light doesn’t stop Changmin from bringing you close against him, snuggling up to you.

It’s silent, and you would think he’s asleep until he shifts in his spot.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Isn’t it crazy how like...Hyunjae painted that thing when we only knew each other for, what? Two days?” He scrunches his nose at the memory before turning to look at you to see what you thought.

“It is,” you respond. “Kids do the darndest things.”

Changmin laughs at your word choice but agrees nonetheless. “Don’t you think it somehow links with fate? The two of us ending up together?”

“Mmm, perhaps. Depends on how you put it.” You shift in your spot, turning to face him. “Hyunjae’s special like that.”

You reach to hold one of his hands, playing with his fingers. “Together forever,” you sigh, pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

“That includes Hyunjae, right?” Changmin asks, lazy eyes watching your every movement as a cheeky smile makes its way to his lips.

You laugh, nodding. “Yes, that includes Hyunjae. All three of us...together forever....Oh my god, Changmin, remember that pinky promise you had the three of us do before you left?”

He grins at the memory, remembering how grim that day turned out to be until he asked you out. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

He pulls his hand away from you to tuck his nose into the crook of your neck, growing drowsier with each hum that escapes you.

“The three of us and our happy little ending,” Changmin murmurs, that being the last thing he says before drifting off to sleep.

NAVIGATION | TBZ MASTERLIST

[s-9in]

and regretfully, not attempt to read the second time again.

KIDULT 1/2 | J.CM

꒰ synopsis ꒱ changmin always believed he was never fond of children, especially when he took the job at your daycare. little did he know the child in him was playing hide and seek, finally revealing itself after growing to love the kids. oh, and you too

꒰ pairing ꒱ daycareworker!changmin x genderneutral!reader

꒰ genre ꒱ strangers to lovers, daycare au, slow burn, fluff, angst, features hyunjae and the rest of the boyz as children

꒰ warnings ꒱ children, car accident, major character death, descriptions of blood, sprinkled bits of profanity and capitalization, and an overall merry bad ending

꒰ word count ꒱ 26.8k+

꒰ perspective ꒱ 2nd person omniscient

‘ playlist one ›› spotify, youtube

‘ author's note!! 🍃 — this fic is for @junjungsunwoo's merry bad ending collab!! biggest thanks to @pjmaparty, @fullsunfluff, @bbanghoonie, and @heejojo for beta reading!! this is the first part out of two <3

‘ taglist ›› @nilesig @reniqt @sunfics @wooyoung-a @kimaya2209 @frickyratz @deputyjuyeon @stealanity @hwallswrld @kyu-rious @changminurheart

NAVIGATION | TBZ MASTERLIST | PART TWO

As the seconds on the clock progresses with every tick, you are already starting to lose hope in your only recruit arriving at all.

Not many liked to work at daycares, that much you knew, considering they didn’t like the idea of loud cries and touchy fingers from kids they weren’t even acquainted with, so it was nearly impossible to find anyone in the small town you lived in willing to help out. Changmin was the only person that approached you at the front desk without a kid of his own, stating that he saw the hiring post on Facebook and wanted the job.

Ecstatic by the news, the interview took place right then and there immediately, and you began spurting out questions for him to answer. Though, while answering, he seemed so uninterested in the job, making you wonder if he really even wanted it in the first place. Unfortunately, your desperation took over your conscience, hiring him on the spot once the short interview had ended.

Now, here you are, waiting for him to come through the front two doors so you could show him around the playroom and help him understand the activities you plan on having the children do. But you were left with little to no hope as the seconds tick by, starting to believe that he bailed on both you and this job.

Right as you begin to sulk, the jingle from the glass doors rang through your ears, making your ears perk.

“I’m here.”

The familiar voice makes your head shoot up, looking at the person who had just entered. Your smile widens at the sudden sight of him, relieved that he chose to come after all. You fix your posture by the desk and bring the clipboard with your written notes into your hands, welcoming him.

“Sorry for being late,” he mumbles. Although he apologies, he doesn’t seem to be apologetic at all, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweater with half hooded eyes, looking like he had just woken up. “I slept in.”

It was impossible to prevent the snort from leaving you, but it didn’t even alarm Changmin in the slightest, the boy looking like he just wanted to get everything over with.

“Well if that’s the case, just make sure you don’t sleep in on your first day on the job,” you hum, walking out from behind the desk. “We really need you here.”

“We?” he asks, letting out a snort of his own.

Thrown off guard, you stutter. “Y-yeah...me and the kids…”

He then nods, keeping his mouth shut as he stands there.

The happiness you received minutes earlier from seeing him is quick to vanish into thin air, making you press your lips into a firm line. “Well then, follow me.”

He does as he’s told, watching you open the only door that stood not so far from the front desk.

“Unlike most daycares, ours only has one playroom,” you sigh, pressing your clipboard up against your chest as you lead him inside. “I’m basically the only person that works here, from what I told you previously, so I truly do appreciate the extra help you’re offering this summer.”

Changmin, the only person deemed ‘interested’ in the job, trails after your steps with long, heavy strides, lazy eyes roaming around the new environment.

You show him around each and every nook and cranny of the room, from the round tables and the circle of big bean bags to the massive reading rug surrounded by bookshelves. It was hard to miss the way he pretty much yawns after every explanation you give him, but you ignore it to maintain your pride.

“These are the sinks that catch the paintbrushes after an hour-long painting session,” you introduce, obvious disappointment featured in your tone. “I always tell the kids to never put their brushes inside the sinks when they’re done rinsing them, but they never listen. It often results in me shoving my hand in and digging the brushes out of the drain.”

And for the first time that day, you notice his eyes widening from the corner of your vision at the sudden information. He peeks over your shoulder to get a glance at one of the sinks being completely covered with dried up splatters of paint, scrunching his nose. “You’re not giving that job to me, are you?”

His grimace made you laugh, shaking your head disapprovingly. “Trust me, I’d love to say no, but I’m afraid I’d be lying.”

He grunts, clearly expressing how much he really didn’t want to do any of the work you plan on assigning him. You brush it off, knowing that he is very much needed for the upcoming summer wave that will be hitting the daycare.

You gesture for him to sit down at one of the round tables, joining him a few seats adjacent. “Okay so, we’re going to have ten kids for the summer. Specifically ten boys. Doesn’t sound like a lot, but they’re quite the hassle when they’re together,” you explain, eyeing your notes while Changmin is just staring, maybe even spacing out, as you speak.

Despite this, you continue, speaking as fast as you could to get this entire thing over with. “We’ll be having four six-year-olds: Sangyeon, Joonyoung, Younghoon, Hyunjae. Three five-year-olds: Juyeon, Hyungseo, Chanhee. And three four-year-olds: Haknyeon, Sunwoo, Youngjae.” Creases form on your forehead when you notice that Hyunjun wouldn’t be attending this summer, but you don’t mention anything about him to Changmin. Hell, you aren't even sure if he even got the names considering how fast you spoke, but it isn’t like he was paying attention in the first place.

“I think that’s-...actually all I have for you today,” you murmur, flipping through your notes to see if you truly have concluded the tour and introductions. You then pass the clipboard over to him by sliding it across the table, making him flinch and stumble to catch it. “Can you check to see if I missed anything? I’m kind of exhausted after all of this prepping.”

He shrugs his shoulders and skims through it in an instant before giving it back to you. “I think you’re good,” he deadpans, not giving you much of an expression to work with as he slides it back over to you.

You cock your brow at how quick he was with searching through everything but chose not to question it, bringing it back into your grasp. “If that’s the case...do you perhaps have any questions?”

He slouches in his spot and averts his gaze out one of the bigger windows, attempting to suppress a yawn by raising a hand over his mouth. “...Not really,” he finally responds.

You eye his features, tilting your head in the slightest as you stare. You then stop when realizing that he caught your gaze, the male growing visibly uncomfortable afterwards. He was shifting in his seat, not sure what to say considering he doesn’t want to opt for a ‘can I go now?’.

“Sorry,” you apologize, straightening your back. “It just seems like you really don’t want to work here.”

“I do!” he counters with his eyes darting over to you, copying your actions by sitting up straight. It then clicks when he realizes that you saw right through him, giving up and allowing himself to surrender. “...Okay fine,” he mumbles, falling right back into his seat. “I really don’t, but I need the money.”

“That’s understandable.” You end the conversation by standing up and putting out your hand. “Even so, I am very excited to work with you.”

“Same here,” he blatantly lies, giving your hand a weak shake after rising onto his feet. “Uh, so when’s my first day here?”

“This upcoming Monday.” You pull your hand back and grab the clipboard, hurried steps making their way back over to the door. “Make sure you arrive at 6 in the morning. Sharp, please. I truly need all the help I can get.”

He takes one last look around the room with pursed lips before wearing one of the fakest grins you’ve ever seen when you open the door for him. “I’ll see you then.”

//

After aligning all the boxes onto the shelves, you exit the playroom to find Changmin resting against the front desk, elbow propped up against its surface as he scrolls through his phone.

“You’re here!!” you exclaim, making him startled at your sudden appearance. “And-...early?” You look at the clock, noticing how it was ten minutes before the designated time.

Unexpectedly, his laid-back attire has been replaced with a casual button-up shirt that is partially tucked into his jeans, looking quite presentable for someone who would be working with preschoolers, but the same uninterested expression from a few days prior still remain on his facial features, barely being able to remove his gaze from his phone screen.

“I couldn’t really sleep,” he sighs out, setting his phone face down onto the desk. He hums, tapping his fingers against the surface, allowing the silence to fill the room before continuing. “Hope I didn’t scare you, by the way. The doors were unlocked.”

“Oh uh, no you’re fine. I just really wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” You smile warmly towards him before walking behind the desk, pulling out one of your drawers to search through your nearly empty files.

“Is there anything you’d like me to do?” He peers over the desk to see what you’re doing, watching your every movement as you hum in return.

“Could you go into the playroom and check to see that everything is organized? Just tidy up anything that looks out of place before our first kid gets here. After that, you can start greeting all the boys when they arrive.”

He visibly cringes at your last sentence but affirms your words with a nod, picking himself off the desk before dragging his feet over to the room, leaving the door wide open.

Meanwhile, your fingers tap against every file within the drawer in search of the one that would be needed for today, taking and setting it out onto the table once you retrieved it. You open the file to reveal a sign in sheet, making sure the paper will be facing the front door for when the parents and their sons start to file in.

You are bending over to find a pen to provide when you hear your name being called with a loud shriek, making you nearly scream.

“Teacher Y/N, Teacher Y/N!!”

The childish voice makes you look over your desk, gasping at the sight of the little six-year-old standing there with the brightest smile.

“What th- how’d you-...? Hyunjae?!?”

The door slams open and presents a disheveled mother panting, breathless concerns pouring out of her. “Oh dear, he’s here. Alright okay, oh my. My apologies, Y/N. Jaehyun got so excited to see you that he rushed out of the car when I was on the phone with my husband.” She frowns and walks over to her child to pick him up, holding him in her arms as she starts interrogating him.

“How on earth did you get inside??”

“I followed a man in,” he giggles, making grabby hands towards you before becoming distracted at the sight of a curious Changmin leaving the playroom to check on the disruption that was happening outside.

Though, he immediately regrets doing so when Hyunjae points at him, clapping his hands loudly. “Him!!”

His mother’s head turns toward to face Changmin, confused at the presence of another adult since she would always be the first one in the daycare with her child.

“Oh!! Mrs. Lee, this is Changmin, Teacher Changmin. He’s going to be helping me out at the daycare for the summer,” you introduce with a warm smile, urging Changmin over by motioning him your way.

Hyunjae’s quicker though, jumping out of his mother’s arms to race over to him. “Hi!!! I’m Hyunjae!!!” He reaches up and extends his hand, wearing the brightest smile Changmin has ever seen.

“Uh-...hi.” Changmin slowly brings his hand to Hyunjae, and the boy grabs it, shaking it aggressively.

“I’m six!!”

“I’m, uh, twenty-three…” His words trail off when he sends you a worrying look, one that said ‘I don’t know how the fuck to deal with kids’, but you ignore it, turning back to face Hyunjae’s mother.

“I’m really glad you have a helping hand this summer,” she comments. “I remember the amount of chaos you had to deal with last year.” A frown works its way back up to her lips when she pulls out her wallet, paying you beforehand. While she continues talking, you go back to looking for a pen, handing it to her in the middle of her sentence.

“I really do appreciate all the work and love you’ve given my son, especially since his father and I barely have time to even talk to him nowadays. It makes me so happy to see him continue being the bright and sweetest kid from the crowd ever since he’s joined this daycare.”

Her words make you grimace, knowing a majority of what she said was a lie. “Of course, but it’s really nothing,” you respond quietly, playing with your fingers.

“Ah, but it’s true!” she reasons, her frown disappearing as it’s replaced with a gentle smile, signing her name into the sign in sheet before reaching to hold onto one of your hands. “Trust me when I say this; many people who work at daycares absolutely despise being with children, but it’s clear that you absolutely love what you do, and I couldn’t be more grateful.”

Your eyes smile at her words, wishing her a warm goodbye when she leaves. You turn to see what Changmin and Hyunjae were up to, seeing the elder crouched down while Hyunjae plays with his cheeks, endless rambles leaving the child.

A grin forms on your lips at the sight of them together, and it took the two a while to realize that Hyunjae’s mother had left. Hyunjae halts his actions with Changmin and runs over to you, grabbing onto your hand to pull it. “Can we go into the playroom now? Pretty please??”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to ask Teacher Changmin about that. He’s going to be the one in charge of you little guys.” You point back over to Changmin, flashing the teacher a bright smile.

Changmin raises a brow at this and holds back from scowling at you, eyes piercing into yours when Hyunjae sprints back over to him with a loud squeal. The boy grabs one of Changmin’s hands, looking up at him when Changmin walks him inside.

“I’m six!!”

“Yes Hyunjae, I know. You said that already.”

//

“You really weren’t lying when you said there would be ten boys.”

“Ten chaotic boys,” you correct, shutting the door behind you when you enter the playroom. There you could see all of them chasing each other, aside from Sangyeon and Joonyoung. The two were playing with dolls and action figures, making up a story while mindlessly ignoring the other kids nearly running over one another. “But why would I lie?”

He shrugs, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he watches the kids, making no effort to stop their violence. “Just seems unlikely that you wouldn’t end up with at least one girl here.”

“Small town, I guess.” While Changmin stood around and did nothing, you went over to untangle Sunwoo’s fingers from Chanhee’s hair, apologizing each time Chanhee cried out of pain.

“Right.” He watches you from afar, analyzing the way you handled the situation and allowed them to carry on with their chaos. “How do you even manage?”

“Honestly?” Your feet walk themselves back over to where you were standing with Changmin previously, accompanying him. “I don’t,” you respond casually. Only then did the adults notice Youngjae chasing Hyunjae towards you two, a plastic toy train being held in his hand as he charged towards the elder boy.

“TEACHER CHANGMINNNN!!” Hyunjae screeches, begging for help as he ducks behind the male’s long legs in order to avoid the toddler.

Changmin just stands there, watching how Youngjae’s waddles come to a stop before shooting a smile up at the teacher ever so innocently. He waves the toy train up in the air for Changmin, showing it off. “Look!!”

Not knowing what to do, Changmin looks over at you, wanting you to control the situation at hand. He could feel Hyunjae wrap his arms around his legs, planting the teacher into the ground while letting out repeated whines about Youngjae chasing him. By now, you already had walked away to watch the scene unfold from across the room, amused with the predicament Changmin was brought into.

“Uhm, Youngjae,” he starts, turning back to the newly turned four-year-old in front of him, crouching down to talk to him properly. The young boy lightens up at him and his train being acknowledged by the new teacher, presenting the toy to him by holding it out in his hands. Hyunjae, on the other hand, resumes hiding behind Changmin, his arms wrapped around his back as he peeks his head out from the side, eyeing the boy that had just terrorized him seconds before.

“Youngjae,” he repeats, slowly taking the toy train out of his hands. “We shouldn’t, uh, chase other kids with toy trains and say you’re going to run them over with it…” His cheeks flush up, truly unsure if he had handled the situation correctly.

Meanwhile, you burst out laughing, making all the kids look at you for only a millisecond before resuming whatever they were doing previously. Youngjae is pouting, his bottom lip jutted out as much as it could, and yet surprisingly, he hasn’t started crying, nodding to show that he understood.

Satisfied, Changmin hands the toy back to the boy, giving him a small pat on his head. It takes a second for it to hit that everything from Youngjae was an act, Hyungseo becoming the boy’s next target.

It makes your burst of laughter return, especially when Changmin’s face drops at the sight of Youngjae tackling Hyungseo while ramming his train into the poor kid’s cheek.

“Well, at least you got him to stop doing it to Hyunjae,” you comfort, walking back over to him. Changmin rolls his eyes with a huff before telling Hyunjae to scurry off. As Hyunjae does as he was told, Youngjae catches sight of your presence, screaming loudly while removing himself from Hyungseo. You chase after the small boy, hands being outstretched in order to pick him up.

When you did, his legs started flailing in the air, not even noticing that he had been raised from the ground.

“I still don’t get how you do this entire daycare thing,” Changmin mumbles, making his way over to you. Youngjae has resulted in whining loudly when you refuse to put him back down, making him apologize to both Hyunjae and Hyungseo from across the room.

“Trust me, I don’t either, but amazingly, it’s pretty easy to calm them down.” You gently set Youngjae back down onto the ground after hearing his cries of ‘sorry’, mentioning that you’ll be taking his toy train for the time being. He doesn’t fight back, only sulking when Sunwoo laughs at him.

That’s when Changmin goes over to one of the round tables, bored out of his mind. He sits on the edge of the table with his toes grazing against the ground, analyzing every kid within the room in order to memorize the other half of their names.

“You know, Teacher Y/N says we should never sit on the tables,” Hyunjae points out after approaching him. Changmin dismisses him off with a wave, not willing to listen to whatever a child was saying.

“I’m not a kid,” he grumbles under his breath, not giving a care if Hyunjae even heard him. Though, he doubts the younger kid did. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to him, you heard Changmin say it loud and clear. With a scoff, you made your way over to the two boys, standing opposite from Hyunjae and adjacent to the teacher with your arms over your chest.

“Off the table,” you demanded.

“What?”

All the kids in the room stopped whatever they were doing to look at the commotion happening. Though, Changmin chose not to budge from his spot, rolling his eyes.

“You heard what Hyunjae said. Loud and clear,” you click your tongue. “You’re being a bad role model to the kids by sitting on the table.”

“There’s nothing wrong with sittin-”

“Changmin, off.”

It was then when humiliation suddenly hit him, especially since he was the one that was being scolded in front of a bunch of preschoolers. He takes one last glance around the room while avoiding your stare before removing himself from the table. What you didn’t expect was for him to storm out of the room, pulling the door open just as fast as he slammed it shut.

“God, what’s his problem?” you mutter. A loud wail is then heard throughout the room, everyone’s attention turning to the person sitting down on the rug by the box of toys. That was what made you realize the severity of the situation, knowing that you had possibly gone too far.

“No no, Joonyoung, don’t cry,” you whisper after rushing over to him, bringing him into your arms. You rub his back, easing him down after the loud sound that had scared him. “I’m so, so sorry.” His hands are bunching up your shirt when you press him close to your chest, finding comfort in your hold.

You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the door, wondering if Changmin would return.

//

After one week and three very tiresome days, you knew that Changmin wouldn’t be coming back.

It wasn’t like he had called to confirm that he would be quitting or any of that sort, but it was pretty obvious with the lack of his presence. It came to a point where you didn’t even bother checking outside the playroom ever so often anymore, knowing that he would no longer be the one entering those two glass doors.

It saddens you, in all honesty. The one person that was willing to help is now gone, and it went back to just you and the ten kids you cherish the most. Though, all of them but one didn’t really mind, or more like comprehend, the lack of assistance in the playroom since you basically had all of their backs, but Hyunjae’s been alone, sitting by the bookshelves.

He would have his arms wrapped around his legs, curling up into a ball as he leans against the shelves, gazing off into the distance.

You did have to admit that the idea of him contemplating his life choices was kind of amusing, especially with him curled up into the fetus position, but you still approached him occasionally throughout the day, asking him if he was alright. It didn’t help much though, the boy turning away from you whenever you did so. After moments of silence, you decided that it would be best to give him space, apologizing each time before leaving to focus on the other kids.

Without a doubt, Hyunjae has always been the brightest one out of every kid you knew, getting along with absolutely everyone due to his expressive persona, and considering he was the mood maker, it did bring down the happiness within the daycare. Joonyoung and Sangyeon were both old enough to understand what Hyunjae was feeling, joining him in the middle of their free time to give the boy a hug. They have always been the sweetest kids in the class so you were more than positive that Hyunjae would be okay in a week or two, but it still took a major toll on your heart.

In around ten or so minutes, it would be time for Hyunjae to arrive, so here you were, preparing everything. While searching through your drawers, a piece of paper falls out of your grip and onto the ground. You reach to pick it up and realize that it’s Changmin’s phone number written down, and you debate whether you should call him or not. It wouldn’t hurt to check up on him and see if he was doing alright, maybe even ask if he would be quitting for good. You could also toss in that Hyunjae has missed him immensely ever since the incident, but you decided against it all, figuring that it’ll be for the best for both sides. You tossed the piece of paper back in the drawer, closing it shut.

Out of nowhere, you could feel small fingers wrapping around the hem of your shirt and you are about to let out the loudest scream, turning around on your heels to face the culprit.

“Holy sh-”

“Hi Y/N.”

You calm down your racing heartbeat by having a hand over your chest, taking a couple of breathers before facing the poor boy. The dejected look on Hyunjae’s face doesn’t falter, his fingers gently tugging on your sleeve.

“Y/N?” he tries again, so you prepare yourself for a talk and get onto your knees in order to reach his eye level, hands on your thighs.

“Is everything okay, Hyunjae?”

“Will Changmin be here today?” he asks, his voice breaking as he speaks softly.

The way he gazes at you with glossy eyes made you realize that even though you had lost all hope for Changmin��s return, Hyunjae was the one who still had some within him.

Without letting you answer, he continues, his fingers bunching up the fabric of your shirt into a fist. “You said he will be here all summer, right?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you nod. “Yes, Hyunjae, he should be.” You pause, shutting your eyes as you utter the next few words. “But I don’t know if he will.” Your voice trails off into a whisper, but he pulls you into a comforting hug, knowing that he isn’t the only one missing your co-teacher.

“It wasn’t my fault, was it?” he mumbles, hiding his face into the crook of your neck.

“What? No, of course not. It isn’t your fault, okay?” You tighten your grip around him, tenderly rubbing his back with your hand.

He sniffs loudly, pulling away with a nod. He tentatively puts out his hands to cup your cheeks, the warmth of his hands bringing you tranquility. When you don’t pull yourself away from his grasp, he squishes your cheeks, just like how he did with Changmin when he first met him, a small smile forming on both of your lips.

“Jaehyun?? Y/N? Are any of you guys here??”

You mentally curse to yourself at the voice, having your eyes meet the preschoolers. “Please don’t tell me you ran away from your mommy again.”

He only grins at you, making grabby hands. With a sigh, you pull him into your arms and stand up, revealing both yourself and Hyunjae to his mother. “He’s here, don’t worry,” you reassure, removing all the visible distress featured on her face.

“Surprise!” he squeals, tossing his hands up in the air.

His mother rolls her eyes playfully. “He really keeps running off without me knowing.” Her playful demeanor turned into a sorrowful one, taking the pen from the desk to sign in. “But I guess that’s a good thing since he really adores it here.”

“I guess he does, doesn’t he?” You glance back at Hyunjae, taking a mental note of his fingers becoming entangled in your hair. “He’s made a lot of wonderful friends here, you know.”

His downturned expression is still present on his face but was easily missed by his mother, too busy talking as she wrote down the date. “He has! He’s always asking me if Joonyoung could come and visit someday. Sweetest kid, if I remember correctly.” She sets down the pen back onto the paper, looking up to see her son. “Stay safe, Jaehyun!! Don’t cause too much trouble for Teacher Y/N today, okay?”

He perks up and goes to wave his mother goodbye but with his fingers caught up in your hair, he accidentally pulls on it, making you yelp.

//

Maybe having the boys paint with their hands was a really, really bad idea. Especially since you are the only one in charge.

“Haknyeon, no- no Haknyeon,” you snatch the tube of paint out of his hands. “We do not eat the paint.” He starts crying due to your glower, but your attention is diverted elsewhere when you hear your name being repeated.

“Teacher Y/N, Teacher Y/N!!” Juyeon calls, waving you over. “Look, look!!” He raises the printer paper up to show you his painting, bouncy on his feet.

“Oh Juyeon!! That’s a very nice-...uhm, cow-?” You tilt your head while squinting your eyes, trying to see it from a different perspective, but Juyeon’s already frowning, bringing the paper back down onto the table.

“It’s an airplane,” he mutters, slouching back into his seat. Youngjae and Sunwoo leave their chairs and rush over to Juyeon, taking a look over his shoulder at what he painted. Sunwoo brings a hand over his mouth to contain his laughter but fails when Youngjae loudly cackles, joining him in a fit of giggles. Juyeon whips his head around, glaring at the two younger boys while they practically trip over their feet due to how hard they were laughing, hands clutching onto their abdomens.

You put the tube of paint next to his artwork before crouching down besides him, bringing a hand to his shoulder. “It’s a really, really beautiful painting of an airplane. I mean it. I’m just legally blind.” You crack a smile before looking around the room, choosing to lean in and whisper into his ear. All sadness washes away when he hears you, perking up at the suggestion. He nods eagerly and claps his hands. Then he reaches to hold onto one of your fingers when you stand up, holding his painting in the other.

Youngjae and Sunwoo stop laughing when they see you bring Juyeon over to the bulletin board, their curiosity bubbling up within.

“Teacher Y/N?” the youngest hiccups, holding onto Sunwoo’s hand before following after you two.

You ignore his call and bring Juyeon up into your arms, giving him a push pin. “Now be careful,” you whisper, watching his every movement cautiously in case something bad happens. Thankfully, Juyeon was careful enough to pin up his painting, dancing happily when you place him back onto the ground.

Sunwoo gasps loudly and sits on the ground with a huff. Youngjae does the exact same, letting out a gasp of his own before seating himself right next to his friend, crossing his arms angrily.

Juyeon skips over to them, proudly puffing out his chest. He used both of his hands to ruffle up their brightly colored hair, regretting the action immediately after. It really wasn’t the greatest idea because one, his hands were covered in paint, and two, he only angered them further, so you didn’t bother saving him when the two boys started chasing him around, Juyeon screaming in terror.

Your attention was brought over to the calmest table in the room, at least from what it seemed, only to find Younghoon and Chanhee purposely shoving their paintbrushes down the drain, acting ever so innocent when you caught them red-handed.

“Now why would you guys do this? Where did you guys even get the paintbrushes? You're supposed to be using your hands to paint,” you groan, pulling the pair away from the sink.

“It was Chanhee’s idea!!” Younghoon blatantly accuses, pointing at his best friend. Chanhee rolls his eyes and doesn’t say another word, claiming the blame as the two head back to their seats in giggles.

With an exasperated sigh, you look into the sink. They are most definitely shoved in there, at least from what you could tell, so you rolled up your sleeves, prepared to have your hands dive in to collect the dollar cheap paintbrushes.

“I could help you with that if you’d like.”

In your head, you fully expected a kid to offer their help, but you knew you couldn’t risk having a preschooler helping you out with something stuck in the drain, but to your surprise, the voice wasn’t squeaky or obnoxious like the others. It was barely a whisper that could’ve been missed if it wasn’t for the sound of the door falling shut, making the entire room turn their heads to the familiar voice.

Hyunjae’s mouth falls agape at the sight of your co-teacher, not believing his eyes considering how long it’s been. He drops the tube of paint that was in his hands and onto his painting, running over to engulf the teacher’s legs within his embrace.

“Teacher Changmin!!”

“Hyunjae!!- wait, no don’t-...C’mon man, these jeans are new,” he whines.

While he tries removing the boy and his hands from his pants, you resume to stay in your state of shock, unable to move a single limb as you look at him. You blink multiple times to see if you are truly just imagining things, but you are proven wrong when more of the boys gather around him, greeting the teacher with happy smiles.

He gives up when many fingerprints of paint end up on his jeans, his distress being replaced with a smile of his own when he sees the rest of the kids. He then locks eyes with you, freezing in his spot before leaning down to whisper something Hyunjae’s ear, earning himself a nod.

Hyunjae and the rest of the kids go back to their seats, obediently continuing what they were doing earlier, but Hyunjae couldn’t stop looking at Changmin in awe, eyes glued onto him. The male makes his way over to you and brings a bag into your view. “I hope you don’t mind, but I bought us lunch.”

He sets it down next to the sink you were standing by, hands on the counter as he looks in. He grimaces at the current state of the sink you had your hand buried in, almost regretting what he offered earlier but folded up his sleeves regardless. “I meant it when I said I’ll help you with it, so I’m going to help you with it,” he mutters lowly, hoping that you didn’t hear him talking to himself. He takes one last look into the sink before shoving his hand in, pulling out the brushes individually with a chuckle. “Who buried these in the drain anyway?”

“We did!!” Younghoon yells out, waving over to him and then proceeds to point to himself and his seatmate. Changmin laughs at his boldness and sets the brushes aside before reaching for more.

Meanwhile, you are too occupied with gazing at him, looking at him with so much adoration. The smile he’s wearing today is genuine, and the sleep deprivation is nowhere to be seen on his face. Heck, it even seems like he did his hair, truly wanting to look presentable in front of the children.

“You okay?”

His voice snaps you out of your daze, struggling to find the right words. “Uh, I- yeah, I’m just- you...you came back.”

He falls silent, focusing on pulling the last few brushes out while his mind wanders elsewhere. When he finishes, he nods, finally allowing his eyes to meet yours. “Yeah, yeah I did.”

Even with the laughter and screams from the surrounding students, the silence between you two overtook it, struggling with who should be speaking first.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, being the one to break the eye contact.

“No, no, don't apologize. It wasn’t your fault at all. I’m the one that should be sorry…” He takes in a deep breath, making your eyes meet his before he continues. “I’m sorry for not realizing that I’m now practically a role model to the kids. I know now that I shouldn’t do anything I wouldn’t want them to do.” He clasps his hands together, having them hang over the sink as he stares straight ahead. “I’m sorry for disappearing these past few days too.”

You smile, pursing your lips. “Hyunjae missed you a lot, you know.”

He laughs, and for the first time ever, it wasn’t bitter. “I missed him too.”

“Hyunjae!! Teacher Changmin misses you!!” Sunwoo yells, capturing the said boy’s attention.

You turn around to see that he and Youngjae had been standing behind you guys all along, eavesdropping on your entire conversation, but it truly didn’t matter because the look on Hyunjae’s face made up for it. He was really eager to get out of his seat, his legs bouncing up and down with excitement but something Changmin must’ve said earlier had made him stay put.

Changmin shortly gives into his desperation, outstretching his arms for the young one. Hyunjae squeals and leaves his seat to run into them, laughing loudly when he’s picked up.

Youngjae, being the jealous one he was, frowns and starts poking Changmin’s leg repeatedly. “Did you miss me too??” he asks, mustering up the biggest puppy eyes for your co-teacher.

Changmin looks down, and the grin he has on his face, along with Hyunjae’s, is something you wish to see for the rest of your life, truly not being able to describe how much happiness you were feeling in the moment. “Of course I did. I missed you and your little train,” he coos, reaching down to boop his nose.

Youngjae lets out an exaggerated gasp at the newly found information, running away to grab his train for Changmin.

“Now look at what you’ve done,” you chortle. Seeing the way you laugh only made him happier, praising Youngjae when he comes back with his toy. He then faces Hyunjae to pinch one of his cheeks, bringing his gaze back over to you.

“I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

//

“I can’t believe you made them paint with their hands before lunch,” Changmin guffaws, bringing all the dried up paintings from the tables into his hands.

“Clearly not one of my brightest ideas,” you sigh.

Your attention was brought away from Changmin when noticing two students that stood far from where they were supposed to be: by the sinks. Your eyes narrow at the sight of Joonyoung carelessly wiping the paint off of his hands with Hyungseo’s shirt, covering the fabric in stains of the nauseating brown that were the result of multiple colors being mixed together.

With a groan, you place the paint tubes that were in your hands onto a nearby table before calling Joonyoung out for his action.

“Hey hey hey, none of that, Joonyoung.” You walk over to where he stood by the bookshelves and drag him away from Hyungseo, and only then did the younger boy realize what Joonyoung did to his shirt, gasping loudly for the entire class to hear.

“Come on you two, let’s wash your hands before we eat.” You bring both of their hands into yours in order to tug them over to the sinks, having them join the other boys that were already cleaning up.

Hyungseo being on the brink of tears shouldn’t have made Changmin laugh, but it does. He picks up the tubes of paint while smiling to himself, dropping them into a nearby basket that sat on one of the tables before heading over to the table with all the paintings he hasn't collected yet. He picks them up one by one, analyzing each one while acknowledging who painted what. Right when he picks up the last painting, he isn’t even given a chance to look at it when Hyunjae immediately sees him holding it, running over to him. “Do you like my painting?” he hiccups, gazing up at the teacher.

“Hm? Oh this is yours?” He looks back at the painting in his hand. “Are these your parents?” he asks, though he was left confused considering none of the people presented on the paper resembled Hyunjae’s mother, at least from what he remembers.

“Nope!!” he quips. He brings Changmin down to his level by pulling onto his sleeve so he’s able to see the painting as well, bouncy in his spot. “It’s you and Teacher Y/N!!”

“Really? Then...why does it say family at the bottom of the paper?” Changmin turns to look at the boy, confused.

“Because you and Teacher Y/N are my family! Well, kind of. In my dream you guys were!!” Hyunjae is looking at Changmin with the brightest set of eyes, smiling brightly. “You guys were married.”

Changmin coughs loudly at this newly found information, looking away from the painting to see if you had heard anything that came from the boy’s mouth. Thankfully you hadn’t, too distracted with helping Sangyeon wash his hands to notice him talking to Hyunjae.

He barely knows you, and yet here Hyunjae is, dreaming of you two as a married couple.

“I wanted to add the other boys and the daycare in the painting,” Hyunjae continues, kicking at the ground with his crocs, “but I didn’t have enough paint.” He frowns, eyes wandering over his painting.

Changmin turns back to look at the artwork, furrowing his brows. “Wait, so if this is me and Teacher Y/N, I’m guessing that’s Teacher Y/N?” Changmin points to the figure on the right before directing his finger over to the figure on the left. “...And that’s me?”

“Nope!!” Hyunjae repeats, snatching the painting out of Changmin’s hand. He then pointed to the figure on the right. “That’s you, oh and that’s me in the middle, and that’s Teacher Y/N!” he exclaims.

“Really?” Unable to hide the shock in his tone, Changmin lowers his voice so he wouldn’t bring any unnecessary attention to the pair.

“Yeah! Oh! And you see these wings behind Teacher Y/N? Those are angel wings! Oh! And you’re the devil.”

“...What?”

Changmin reaches to take the painting back into his grasp, glancing at it, and surely enough, there are poorly drawn devil horns adorning the top of his head in the painting.

“I got bored,” Hyunjae explains nonchalantly, truly finding no issue with what he drew. “And they make you look cool!!!”

“You are terrible,” Changmin sighs out, but Hyunjae’s frown at the comment made him completely switch up his words. “...-Terribly adorable!!” He coos, giving one of Hyunjae’s cheeks a pinch.

Your voice rips the two out of their momentary fit of giggles, adding to the ruckus being caused around the sinks. Not only were Youngjae and Sunwoo splashing water at each other, but two other boys were huddled up by the sink in the corner of the counter, their backs hunching over the sink.

“Not again!” you cry out loud. “Younghoon, Chanhee, away from the sink, I beg.”

Both Hyunjae and Changmin turn to look at you out of curiosity, watching how you pull the pair away from the sink. The action reveals the bunches of paintbrushes gripped in their hands, giggles escaping the two boys. Changmin chuckles at the sight, shaking his head in disbelief at the two boys’ repeated antics before turning back to face Hyunjae.

“Do you want to help me hang these up?” Changmin raises the paintings in his hands, presenting them to Hyunjae. The boy brightens up at the sigh, rapidly nodding his head in response. Content, Changmin stands up and gives Hyunjae his hand to hold onto, leading the boy over to the bulletin board.

“That’s Juyeon’s painting,” Hyunjae points out, referring to the painting that was already pinned up. “Youngjae and Sunwoo were bullying his plane, so Teacher Y/N helped him put it up.”

“Youngjae and Sunwoo were bullying him?”

Hyunjae shrugs, not really caring. “They’re mean.”

A laugh escapes Changmin when he hands Hyunjae the painting, moving on from the topic by bringing the boy up into his arms, picking him up. When he feels like he has a firm grip around Hyunjae, he uses his free hand to open the box of push pins. “You’ll hold the paintings up to the board, and I’ll pin them in, okay?” he hums, looking at Hyunjae for confirmation.

Surprisingly, Hyunjae proves to be very cautious when holding the paintings up for Changmin. With every painting they successfully pin up, Changmin let’s out a ‘woo!’ before scooting over a few centimeters to pin up the next one.

Once the two are finished, Changmin tells Hyunjae to hurry and wash his hands. The boy complies, running over to join you and the rest of the boys by the sinks.

Changmin follows after him with a satisfied grin, picking up the baskets of paint tubes on his way over to you. He sets them by the counter with the rest of the baskets before running his hands under the faucet. While all the boys rushed to take their lunch bags out of their backpacks, you had your arm buried in the drain, fishing out the paintbrushes the two rascals shoved in there for fun.

“Want me to help again?” he chuckles, drying his hands with a paper towel after turning off the faucet.

You shake your head, rejecting his offer. “You did a lot already,” you explain, turning your gaze back to the sink. A thin paintbrush was pulled out of the drain and set aside before your arm dived in once again, checking to see if there were any remaining ones left. You turn to look back at Changmin, eyeing him. “Thank you, by the way.”

“I’ve barely done anything,” Changmin pouts, leaning against the counter as he watches you.

This time, you pull out a slightly bigger paintbrush, that one joining the tiny one to the side. “Well, it’s the most help I’ve ever gotten since I opened this daycare,” you snort, avoiding eye contact.

Changmin notices the way your face falls when the realization of the lack of help dawns on you, feeling his heart drop as he knew he was part of that cause.

But before he could apologize for the nth time that day, you smile, slowly moving your head over to look at him. “You should go eat with the rest of the kids, by the way.”

Changmin bites the inside of his lip, his gaze flickering between your struggling hand and the kids scurrying to sit with their friends. “I mean...are you sure? I bought lunch for the both of us,” he reminds you, taking a glance at the plastic bag of take-out ramen placed by one of the sinks earlier. “It’d be pretty rude of me to start without you…”

“Oh,” you murmur, recalling the gesture. You’re unable to stop the heat from shooting up to your cheeks, trying to avert your attention back to the paintbrushes in the drain. “Right, uh, it’ll be okay. I’ll join you in a bit, then.” You send him a warm, reassuring smile and turn your attention back to the sink.

He nods and leaves you to bring the plastic bag into his hands, taking it over to one of the vacant round tables within the room, setting it down.

All ten boys are quick to crowd Changmin in a matter of seconds once he has taken a seat, intrigued with what the teacher had brought for lunch. Specifically, Haknyeon was interested in the styrofoam cups being pulled out of the bag, scurrying his way through the elder boys to catch a glimpse of Changmin’s lunch.

Not being used to receiving this amount of attention, the teacher easily grows flustered with the number of kids surrounding him, not really knowing how to have them get back to their seats. So he opts to continue what he was doing, removing the lids from the cups and setting them to the side whilst ignoring the oohs and aahs coming from the children. It truly makes him flustered with every word that leaves the kids, avoiding eye contact with all of them.

“Boys, go back to your seats.”

Their heads shoot up towards you, doing exactly as you say in an instant at the sight of you. You are drying your hands with a paper towel as you approach Changmin, giving the relieved male a playful wink. Laughter escapes you when he avoids having his gaze meet yours, too embarrassed to send you a thanks.

But the remaining smile on his lips and the faint blush on his cheeks already does all the thanking, especially when you pull over a chair to sit right beside him.

Shyly, he slides over one of the styrofoam cups and gives you a set of chopsticks before focusing on his own meal. He pulls the chopsticks out of its paper covering, snapping the wooden sticks apart while you’re quick to dig into the ramen, eating happily while watching the other kids begin their lunch.

There are multiple conversations happening in the room, but with only ten other students, it isn’t hard to differentiate each one. Sangyeon, Joonyoung, and Youngjae are all talking about their older siblings while Chanhee, Hyungseo, and Sunwoo are talking about cheese. Why? You don’t know, but somehow the conversation ends up being way more interesting than expected, and it makes you tune in, listening to each word that leaves that certain table’s mouth.

Meanwhile, the last table consisted of Juyeon, Hyunjae, Haknyeon, and Younghoon. Hyunjae was the one who did most of the talking, but only two boys were listening.

Before Changmin is able to dip his chopsticks into the ramen, Haknyeon somehow manages to slip away from his table unnoticed and makes his way over to the male with quick steps. He stands right next to Changmin when he’s about to take his first bite, staring at him. His eyes do all the talking, begging for Changmin to share it with him.

Changmin sits there, frozen as the noodles hang from his chopsticks. He locks eyes with Haknyeon, and only then does the four-year-old open his mouth, pointing to it.

The ‘ahh’ that leaves Haknyeon is what makes your attention from Sunwoo’s rant about melted cheese shift over to what was happening between Haknyeon and Changmin, almost choking on the noodles due to the sudden presence of the young boy. A burst of sudden laughter erupts from your throat, letting your chopsticks rest in your cup as you bring a napkin up to wipe your lips.

You’ve been used to Haknyeon always approaching you whenever it was lunch time ever since he started attending the daycare. You reacted the same way Changmin is reacting currently, but as time passed, you eventually learned how to say no to his puppy eyes. Though there have been times when you gave in, but you made sure that he would ask politely before doing so.

But clearly, he forgot to do as such when it came to Changmin.

Well, either that or Haknyeon just didn’t care about being polite since Changmin was the new teacher.

“He wants to eat your food,” you hum, your insight snapping him out of his frozen daze. He notices the way you pick up your chopsticks and point them at his cup before continuing to finish whatever you had left.

“I figured,” Changmin mumbles. He isn’t even sure how to explain to a four year old that he himself was starving and truly needed this cup of take-out ramen to himself, so he gives up and easily caves in.

He sets the chopsticks aside before bringing Haknyeon into his lap. Carefully, he twirls the noodles around his chopsticks and brings it into the four year old’s mouth, feeding him while his free hand is placed below his mouth in case there would be any spills.

You watch the two’s every movement, continuing to stuff your mouth as you speak. “Do you not plan on eating?”

He loudly sighs with a pout overtaking his features, subtly shaking his head. Changmin then looks at Haknyeon, watching the boy eating his oh so precious ramen with the happiest smile on his face. The sight eventually brings a smile to the teacher’s face. “I’m sure this little kiddo is starving way more than I am, so I’ll be okay,” he reassures.

As Haknyeon chews, Changmin notices the sounds the boy was making while eating. He pokes his cheek with his index finger, the grin on his lips making his cheeks hurt. “Good job,” he praises after feeding him another bite. He then looks at you, deciding to mimic the noises Haknyeon made while chewing seconds earlier. “Nyam nyam nyam nyam nyam.”

You snort, holding yourself back from smiling. “Did you just- did I hear you correctly?”

The smile on his lips doesn’t falter when he brings his chin over to rest on top of Haknyeon’s head, leaning against the small boy in his arms with the cheekiest look on his face. “Nyam nyam,” he responds.

“...Oh my god, don’t start talking like that,” you groan, feeling embarrassed when he lets out a laugh.

Changmin continues to feed the boy in his lap, playing with him in the process. As continuous ‘ahh’s leave both of their lips, you choose to bring your attention back to the rest of the boys in the room. You watch as a majority of them become immersed into trading their snacks with one another, Chanhee breaks out into whines when Hyungseo scams him out of a bag of gummies.

Youngjae hears the commotion going on and seeing Chanhee triggered tears of his own, bailing while hitting his hands against the table.

With a sigh, you quickly pat your lips dry before standing up, ready to go over and calm the boy down. This easily captures Changmin’s attention in the middle of him playing airplane with Haknyeon, freezing with his chopsticks being held up in the air.

“Wait, Y/N.”

His words stop you from proceeding further, the wails only getting louder within the playroom. Joonyoung is basically slapping Youngjae’s back at this point to calm him down, but the action really doesn’t do much justice.

Changmin quickly turns to face Haknyeon and whispers a question along the lines of ‘you know how to use chopsticks, right?’ to him before having the boy occupy his seat despite Haknyeon shaking his head no. While Haknyeon starts creating a mess with the chopsticks he was given, Changmin goes over to you. “Just finish eating, I got it.”

“What? Wait what, no, Changmin it’s okay.” You remove yourself from the table, but he stops you, warily holding onto your shoulder.

“I’m serious. I want to redeem myself, I got this.”

Without giving you a chance to respond, he leaves you and rushes over to Youngjae.

You are hesitant since Changmin really doesn’t know how to deal with kids, at least from what he’s told you, and you are debating whether to join him or not. You eventually ease back into your seat, wanting to make sure Haknyeon wouldn’t choke himself with the chopsticks.

By now, Chanhee has fully shut up because of how loud Youngjae was, the boy covering his ears as he no longer cares about Hyungseo eating all his gummies. A loud groan comes from Sangyeon, telling the boy to shut up.

Changmin goes to stand in front of Youngjae, crouching down to reach his level. There is visible panic that fills his vision, mind racing with ideas on how to calm a crying toddler.

You’re about to stand up again and step in but Changmin is quick to make a decision, taking action shortly after by grabbing the toy train from the table. He dashes away from Youngjae as fast as he could with the train, running to the opposite side of the playroom.

Youngjae’s cries come to an immediate halt when seeing how his train has been stolen, sprinting after the poor teacher.

It leads to Changmin being tackled onto the reading rug by not only Youngjae, but his best friend as well, the two youngest boys falling into fits of giggles when Youngjae dances in victory after stealing his train back.

Sunwoo continues to lie on top of Changmin, having the teacher in a chokehold, but the male makes no attempt to move, lying down on the rug with a satisfied grin resting on his lips. He shoots you a smile when he catches your gaze, making you look away in an instant.

But in the midst of Youngjae dancing, the boy accidentally trips over Changmin’s ankle, falling right back into his sobs when he hits the ground.

//

“Not really fond of kids my ass,” you grumble after recalling Changmin’s attitude given on the day you showed him around. You are standing by one of the round tables while analyzing the way Changmin picks up the boys one by one to give them a warm hug as they begin to leave.

“Y/N!” he exclaims after hearing you, pressing Sangyeon’s head against his shoulder as if to cover his ears. “There are kids here!”

Sangyeon is too immersed in snuggling up into Changmin’s embrace to even care about you saying a curse word while Hyunjae is glued to Changmin’s side, holding onto his shirt while looking up at the two, or well, three, of you.

“Teacher Y/N always curses around us,” the one on the ground explains, making your co-teacher shoot daggers your way. “But it’s okay! Teacher Y/N even lets us curse!! Just not around our mommies and daddies,” Hyunjae hiccups, reassuring Changmin with the ecstatic smile on his face as he finds no issue with what he just uttered.

Changmin thanks Hyunjae for the newfound information, setting Sangyeon back down on the ground so the two boys can go off and play for a bit before having to leave.

“You let them curse? Seriously?” Changmin cocks his brow at you. “What do you teach these kids?”

“A lot,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders. “They’re my world though, remember? They’re all I really have in life, but trust me, they’re all very respectful. Plus only Hyungseo and Sangyeon curse! The rest just don’t care, and even so, none of them could hurt a fly.” You pause, your eyes looking around the room for the only blondie in your room. Both yours and Changmin’s gazes trace after Haknyeon’s actions when he removes one of his shoes from his feet, an excited Sunwoo and Youngjae tailing after him when he walks up to one of the bigger windows in the playroom.

“Except for Haknyeon,” you add. “I don’t really know about Haknyeon.”

Haknyeon tosses his shoe at the window, scaring the fly away that was there previously.

“Mommy!! Daddy!!” Younghoon exclaims, running over to his parents that have just entered the playroom.

You urge Changmin to follow after him, having him meet Younghoon’s parents as you watch over the rest. One by one as the children leave, Changmin waves goodbye to all the parents that enter the playroom to pick their sons up, sending a warm smile and a hug to the boys leaving.

“You like the kids, don’t you?” you ask when Changmin returns from the front door, joining you by one of the tables as you both supervise the last two boys in the playroom, watching Hyunjae excitedly show off the small building he’s made with legos to Sangyeon.

The smile on his lips doesn’t falter at the question, giving you a jest as a response. “Maybe I do.”

Though, the grin contradicts his teasing words, especially when Sangyeon leaves his spot to run over to Changmin, pulling the teacher over to meet his parents and older sister that have just arrived.

When the playroom is finally rid of all the children, except for Hyunjae, you and Changmin begin to clean up, starting with washing the surfaces of the tables first.

“When will Hyunjae’s parents pick him up?” Changmin asks, curious since it has been ten minutes since Sangyeon has last left.

“That,” you sigh. “I don’t know.” You wipe the sinks clean of their paint, washing it all down the drain. You frown when you reach the last sink by the corner (the sink that keeps being choked with paintbrushes that Younghoon and Chanhee manage to pull out of their asses), noticing that the water wouldn’t go down the drain. “God damn these kids,” you mutter, making a mental note to call the plumber.

Once every table has been wiped down and all the sinks have been cleared of paint, you and Changmin move to the small shelves that hold the countless number of toys you had bought recently for the summer wave. As you help one another put the toys back into their respective plastic bins, Hyunjae is by the bookshelves, browsing through them for a book that he wants you to read to him.

“They really do adore you,” you comment, breaking the silence. You stay focused on organizing the toys rather than Changmin’s reaction to your sudden words, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

“Do they?”

“Of course they do. You’ve only been here for what, one full day? And it’s clear you’re wonderful with kids, or at least with the kids we have here. I don’t know why you said otherwise a week ago.”

His cheeks flush up at the compliment, shyly rubbing the back of his neck after snapping the lid shut onto one of the bins. “I, uh, never really worked with kids before. Not like this, at least. I’ve always just assumed I’d be horrible with kids because I guess I always found them irritating, like, very, so today was quite the surprise for me too,” he coughs out, darting his gaze anywhere else but you.

“Well, for someone who has never worked with kids, you did really, really well with handling the situations and getting along with the boys today. I mean it,” you hum as you stack one of the bins on top of the other, pushing them back into the shelves. “You brought so many smiles to their faces when you arrived.”

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

The silence that has returned would’ve been deafening to both of your ears if it wasn’t for Hyunjae singing along to the song Kidult by Seventeen while skimming the shelves. It’s the only sound that accompanies you when you two finish cleaning up whatever was left with the toys, but the question lingering in your mind threatens to break the tension between you two.

“Changmin, if you don’t mind me asking, what-...what made you decide to come back?” you whisper.

His head shoots up to look at you. He stands up when he sees that you both have finished with the toys, hesitant on how to answer. His mouth is repeatedly opening and closing every few seconds, unable to form any words as he thinks. “Uhm…”

He looks over at the boy by the shelves, watching him struggle to reach for one of the books on the top shelf while standing on his tippy toes, pausing his singing to focus on grabbing it.

“Hyunjae,” Changmin finally answers. “Hyunjae’s the reason.”

And you. He came back for you too.

“He’s the sweetest, isn’t he?” you sigh, walking over to one of the tables to sit down.

Changmin nods along to your words. “He definitely has my heart,” he adds.

Changmin does the same, choosing to sit in the seat next to yours as you both watch Hyunjae flip through the pages of the book, a frown making its way up to his face when he realizes that he’s already read it. He goes back to singing Kidult after putting the book back on the shelf, continuing to look for one that catches his attention.

You look over at the door of the playroom, it being wide open as it waits for Hyunjae’s mother to walk through the doorway. When you look at the clock, you frown, taking note of how it’s been an hour since Sangyeon has left, and there has been no message from Mrs. Lee about arriving late.

“You know how his name is Hyunjae?” you ask, sparking up a conversation about the little boy. You continue when Changmin nods. “Well, I don’t know if you heard his mother when she arrived on your first day here, but his actual name is Jaehyun.”

Changmin’s face morphs into pure shock, but he stays silent, urging you to continue with your ramble. He stares into your eyes while you look at the boy by the shelves, a smile making its way to both of your faces when you hear him attempt to reach Dokyeom’s high note in Kidult.

“When he first started attending the daycare, I mistook his name as Hyunjae. I always called him that in front of the other kids, and soon enough those kids also started calling him Hyunjae because he never corrected any of us. I didn’t actually know his name was Jaehyun until I had a proper conversation with his mother.

When I brought this up to Hyunjae, he explained that he preferred being called Hyunjae. He liked it especially because it brings him a sense of comfort and inclusivity. His parents never gave him a nickname growing up, always referring to him as ‘Jaehyun’. He says he always wanted someone to call him ‘Jae’ or ‘Hyun’, so when he heard me calling him ‘Hyunjae’, he assumed it was a nickname I’ve made up for him. He said it was the first time since someone had ever given him a nickname like that and stated how special it was to him. So because of that, I never stopped and neither did the kids. I don’t think half of them even know that Jaehyun is his real name, but I doubt Hyunjae would like them to know anyway.”

Changmin listens to your story in awe whilst Hyunjae was completely oblivious to the talk you were having about him.

“The name Hyunjae really does suit him, though. As much as I love the other boys, he truly stands out. One of a kind, if you ask me. Like his name, he’s a gift to the class. Then again, more so a gift to me, if anything. I couldn’t ask for anything better. He’s always making the other boys smile, being the absolute mood maker of the daycare. Sometimes he appears out of nowhere and scares the shit out of me, but it all doesn’t matter in the end because I’m always thankful for his presence. ‘Surprise, it’s Hyunjae, your surprise present!’ used to be his catchphrase, but it’s been a while since I’ve heard it from him...” You chew on your bottom lip, heart already aching at the reason behind why he had stopped saying it.

“Hyunjae’s mother caught him saying it to me once and told him to never say it again-...Why? I don’t really know.”

With a gulp, you’re hesitant to continue, but you push forward, wanting to dump all your thoughts out, even if Changmin was still considered only a co-worker to you.

“His parents- they’re sweet, I’m sure, but they never give Hyunjae the time of day. In the years I’ve had Hyunjae here, I’ve only met his father once. Crazy, isn’t it?”

Your laugh is bittersweet.

“I love them, but there are days when I wish I could take care of Hyunjae myself, you know? Take him back to my apartment, feed him, read him a few books, tuck him into bed. Just do anything instead of having him go back to a home where he’s barely acknowledged. If he wasn’t at the daycare, he would be at home with a babysitter...It’s not only that his parents work a lot, but they also do everything without him. Shopping, partying, hanging out with friends of their own whenever given the chance, and a year ago, the babysitter quit. There really hasn’t been any changes in their habits except they would call me to ask if they could drop him off at the daycare in the middle of the night, treating me like I’m the new babysitter. I’m honestly positive they’ll do it again in the next few months.”

Changmin finally speaks up. “Have you tried talking to his mother about it?”

You bitterly suck in some air, eyes roaming around the playroom as you nod. “Yeah, I have. Multiple times actually, stating that a child needs attention from their parents, even if it’s only every once in a while. She honestly...didn’t really appreciate me talking about it. Says it’s none of my business.

His mother has always been the sweetest to me and still is, but whenever I bring the topic up, she gets angry. She lashed out the last time I mentioned how important it was for her to be there for him and eventually yelled at Hyunjae for telling me about his personal life…H-He cried about it to me the next day, running into my arms to tell me all that had happened the night before, so ever since then I do my best to shut up about it around her.”

Tears start pooling up in your eyes when your mind replays what happened that day, wiping them away instantly. “It’s a shame, really, how she speaks so highly of him but treats him otherwise from what I’ve been told.” The topic saddens you the more you talk about it, resting your head in your arms on the table. Hyunjae has stopped singing, flipping through the pages of another book. “Your heart isn’t the only one Hyunjae owns.”

Once again, Hyunjae is shoving the book right back into the shelves, looking for another one that he would think you’d read wonderfully.

“I really do wish there will be a day where I can adopt him. I know it’s impossible, but it’d be a dream come true: to have a son like him, to give him the parenting he deserves. Though, Hyunjae’s mother loves him too much to give him to someone else, and it’s completely understandable.

I just wished that even if they couldn’t spare him a second of their time, they’d at least treat him well and call him by what he wants to be called instead of ignoring what makes him happy. He once tried getting them to call him Hyunjae, but they ignored it, sticking with Jaehyun, and we both know how that turned out. I guess that’s why Hyunjae’s mother didn’t like it whenever he used that catchphrase around me. ‘Jaehyun is his birth name’ is what she used to reason with.”

Throughout your entire rant, Changmin’s gazing into your eyes as you speak with so much love in your tone, resonating with the pain you’re feeling. He listens to everything with a broken heart of his own, wishing that he could pull you into your arms and tell you it’s alright. He fights back from doing so, allowing his hands to rest in his lap as listens to you continue.

“I really can’t express how much I want to be there for him when he isn’t at the daycare. I wish to be there for him on the weekends, but I guess this is the most I could do for him.” You suck in a sharp breath, slowing your breathing in order to calm your bubbling anxiety.

“Hyunjae—really means a lot to me. I’d honestly save him from the world if I’m ever given a chance. I’d gladly take a bullet for him any day, you know?” And for once, you finally turn to face Changmin, a weak smile being brought onto your lips as your eyes connect with his. “I saw the painting he made on the bulletin board earlier,” you add, “and it’s clear you mean just as much to him as he does to me, so thank you. Thank you for coming back. Thank you for making him so incredibly happy.”

Changmin is left speechless, especially when your eyes hold the starry nights in them. You look at him with such sincerity and vulnerability, truly thankful. The pain from leaving you and the boys has stuck with him ever since he slammed the door on you guys, making his heart drop to the pit of his stomach every time he thinks back to it.

“Of course. I’d do anything for him.” He looks right back into your eyes, reaching to bring one of your hands into his. The intimate moment causes the both of you to fall silent, and it has Changmin’s mind racing. He wishes that he had done better and had been more mature about the situation, but after a week of thinking about his actions, he knew he wanted to better himself. Not only for Hyunjae, but for you as well.

“I’d do anything for you too,” he adds through a whisper. He shortly realizes how weird it sounds for him to say that to someone he barely even knew, clearing his throat loudly before correcting himself. “I just feel really bad for ditching you...too.”

You sniff, laughing at his words. “It’s pitiful, isn’t it? How this is my job? I’m barely making a living out of it.” With a sigh, you gently pull away from his grasp and lean back into your seat. You shake your head, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. “I’m sorry for becoming so vulnerable in front of you. Everyone always becomes so- hateful when they hear about children, and it hurts my heart because these ten boys own my everything. Even if it would only be me taking care of their chaos this summer, I couldn’t be happier. I’m just, really glad to have finally found someone that cares just as much for these boys as I do. Even if you don’t verbally admit it, I see it. Something changed you this past week.” You look at him with hope, wanting him to confirm your words.

And he does as so with a nod, eyes darting down to his fingers. “Yeah, something did.”

Before you could ask him what had changed him, Hyunjae is running over to you with a stack of books in his hands, making you shut down the conversation you were having with Changmin.

“Five books today?” you ask after counting the number of books he was holding, confused.

Hyunjae hugs the books close to his chest as he looks at the clock, creases forming on his forehead. “I don’t think mommy is coming soon,” he mumbles, setting the pile of books onto the table. He chooses one for you to read and hands it to you, climbing onto your lap. He waves to Changmin with a grin before getting comfortable in his spot by shifting into your embrace, clapping his hands excitedly when you open the book.

Changmin understood everything you said earlier, but he understands how you feel about Hyunjae even more as he watches you read the book out loud with the boy pointing to every picture that you two come across. He also notices every single detail about you as you continue reading. He sees the way your eyes glimmer when you look at the boy between your arms and the smile on your lips when Hyunjae perks up at the plot twist of the picture book. His loud gasp and commentary make both you and Changmin grin.

By now, Changmin should be at home on his couch, relaxing while scrolling through a list of shows because he no longer had a use at the near vacant daycare, but he refuses to leave you and Hyunjae alone.

So he continues to listen to the way your voice glides across the pages of the book, becoming immersed in the stories made for children.

And for the first time in forever, Changmin feels at home. Your voice brings him into so much ease, and he knew at that moment he would never want to leave either of your sides.

Soon enough, two hours have passed, and within those hours, you have read eleven books to the two boys. Although Hyunjae has fallen asleep against your embrace, you continue reading the twelfth book in your hands.

Your words come to a stop when you feel a head gently falling onto your shoulder, turning to see that Changmin has fallen asleep as well.

The snores that came from the two boys accompany your silence, and you decide that you’ll stop reading for the time being. You do your best not to move much so you don’t wake either of the boys up, placing the book back onto the stack of books Changmin organized on the table.

You move to rest your head against Changmin’s, letting your eyes fall shut after tightening your grip around Hyunjae.

//

You aren’t given one single apology when Hyunjae’s mother comes to pick up her son, and Changmin’s pissed.

It is one in the morning when she pulls the glass doors open, the jingle waking you up from your slumber. Hyunjae remains fast asleep in your arms while Changmin is standing by the bookshelves, occupied with putting the books back into their respective spots. He almost drops the few books left in his arms when Hyunjae’s mother rushes into the playroom, gritting his teeth at the sight of her.

She doesn’t give you nor Changmin a single explanation as to why she was late. She doesn’t give you a ‘thank you for keeping him safe for me’ or an ‘I’m sorry for arriving this late into the night’, and instead she dismisses it with a tired gaze washed over her features.

All she says is ‘I’m here for my son’, and before Changmin could speak up, you already have Hyunjae up in your arms, holding him close against your chest as you leave the room with his mother.

Changmin fumbles to get the last few books back into the bookshelves before rushing to follow after you, stopping in his tracks right when he exits the glass doors. He watches you intently, noticing how you give Hyunjae a kiss to his forehead while his mother wasn’t looking after buckling him into his booster seat. You wave her goodbye when the car drives off, turning to look back at Changmin.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” His lips are pressed into a thin line after pushing out the words, arms crossed tightly over his abdomen with an intense gaze locked onto your eyes.

While it seems like you’re used to it, Changmin is extremely irritated with how the situation turned out to be.

Both of you knew this isn’t how a mother should be when picking up her child in the middle of the night.

Your rant about Hyunjae’s mother didn’t help Changmin’s thoughts whatsoever, his hatred for Mrs. Lee only increasing when you don’t give him a response.

The tears from before start returning to your eyes, your eyes becoming extremely glossy under the moonlight. You rush to push past him, ignoring the way he frustratingly tails after you inside.

“There’s no way you’re letting her do this to you. Y/N, seriously?? She’s basically using you to hold Hyunjae and chooses to pick him up whenever she feels like it. The daycare closes at a certain time, and she should know that. Hell, Y/N, she does know that.” You swing the door to the playroom wide open as Changmin speaks, blocking out his words.

“It’s whatever. It isn’t like this is the first time it’s happened,” you grumble, walking over to your desk.

Changmin stands by the doorway, leaning against it as his arms make its way back over his chest. “Doesn’t mean it’s right. You’re exhausted, and you know damn well she’s the cause. How many times has this happened??”

“It’s fine,” you spit, shoving your belongings into your bag. You don’t want to discuss the topic any further, knowing that it’ll break you if you continue, but Changmin doesn’t stop.

“You should’ve been home eight hours ago, Y/N. Eight hours ago, the daycare closed. Eight hours ago, Mrs. Lee was supposed to be here to pick. Hyunjae. Up.” You dismiss his words with the roll of your eyes, slinging the bag over your shoulder as you storm out of the playroom, Changmin trailing right after you once he turns off the lights. “And eight hours ago, both you and Hyunjae would’ve had dinner. But guess what? None of that happened.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter.

“It’s so clear. If only you would open your eyes and see how fucked up this entire situation is-”

“Oh please,” you interrupt, stopping in your steps. You turn on your heels to face him. “You’re making a fuss right now because you didn’t get to go home earlier, aren’t you? Is it because you didn’t get to eat all day? Seriously, Changmin, knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s not my fault you were the one who chose to stay.”

Your words make his features scrunch up due to confusion. “What??? No- what? It’s none of that. Y/N, don’t you understand? I’m concerned for you.” He stops to take a deep breath, calming himself down in front of you. “I care for you.”

You just stare at him, the expression on your face being unreadable.

You’re about to leave when Changmin speaks up once again, his question having you rooted to the ground beneath your feet.

“You- you walk home, right?” he asks, unsure. “I’m just assuming because...well, my car is the only car in the parking lot right now…”

Your feet kick at the ground whilst you let out a somewhat inaudible scowl, slowly turning back around to face him again. “I do,” you mutter.

“Then can I at least drive you home? It’s late.” His eyes are begging you, and you notice the sincerity his past few sentences held. “I don’t- want you to get the wrong idea, I just- please? Can I? You’ve already had to deal with so much, and I don’t want you to wear yourself out this late in the night.”

An exasperated sigh escapes you, and you give in with the nod of your head. Changmin is more than ecstatic when you accept his offer, helping you across the street and to the park. He surprisingly opens the door to the passenger seat of his car for you, and you’re given no choice but to thank him.

While Changmin moves to settle in the front seat, you’re busy pulling up the directions to your apartment complex, putting your phone up on the dashboard for him to see.

The car ride is mostly silent, the radio being set on a low volume to accompany the two of you. It takes a while for the both of you to calm yourselves down, avoiding looking at each other at all costs.

You allow Changmin to accompany you on your way up the flight of stairs and to the door of your apartment.

He whispers an ‘I’m sorry’ when you enter your apartment, and you look at him with a warm, forgiving smile when you respond with an ‘it’s okay’.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Changmin,” you murmur, giving him a small wave goodbye. He reciprocates the action with a ‘goodnight, Y/N’ before finally leaving, preparing himself for the hectic summer he’ll be having in front of him.

//

You’re busy gathering materials for the next activity you plan on having the children do when Changmin calls out for you, running over your way with Joonyoung in his arms. “Y/N!!”

“Do you need help with something?” you ask, on your tippy-toes in order to grab the baskets of colored pencils from the cabinets above the sink.

A huge grin is worn on his face when he approaches you, showing off the sleeping Joonyoung on his shoulder. “Look,” he murmurs, keeping his voice quiet in order to not wake him up. He leans his head against the boy’s while proudly smiling at you, feeling ever so giddy within.

Your gaze shifts between Joonyoung and Changmin, perplexed. “Is something wrong? Is he okay?”

“Wha- oh, him? Oh yeah, he’s fine.”

“...Then what’s the issue?” you question, closing the cabinet shut before bringing the small baskets into your arms, bringing them to the rounded tables.

Changmin follows after you, gently bouncing Joonyoung in his arms as he watches you place two baskets in the middle of each table before moving onto the next. “Nothing! There’s no issue. I just think the boys are really starting to like me.”

Once you place down the last basket in your arms, you turn to face Changmin, searching his face for any sign of a teasing demeanor, but the dimple adorning the bright smile plastered on his face makes you doubt he’s messing with you. The smile doesn’t even leave when he sees the two preschoolers behind you; if anything, it only makes his smile wider.

“You’re just figuring that out? It’s been a week since you’ve been here, Jichang, of course they like you.” You take a few steps closer to him before jabbing a finger into the middle of his chest, making him look at you. “They’ve liked you ever since your first day here, dummy.”

“Teacher Y/N just called Teacher Changmin a dummy!!” Sunwoo shrieks, alarming the class with his voice. Youngjae cackles evilly, enjoying how his best friend is the tattletale of the class.

The two kids run away when you turn around, joining the rest of the boys by the circle of bean bags.

“Were- were they always there?” you stutter, slowly turning back to face Changmin.

He nods with a laugh. “Yeah, I didn’t want to say anything though.”

Changmin glances at the sleeping boy in his arms, bringing a hand up to the boy’s face to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “And in response to what you said earlier, sure, some of the boys liked me on my first day here, but it took a while for the rest to like me, like Joonyoung!”

He then gently presses his hand up against one of Joonyoung’s ears as if to deafen him temporarily (despite him already being fast asleep), leaning forward in order to whisper to you through the loud laughs coming from the bean bags. “Do you know how superior I feel?”

You chuckle, gently pushing him away from you. “I’ve told you many times that you work really, really well with kids. Honestly Changmin, you’re even becoming a kid yourself.”

Sunwoo interrupts your conversation by running back to the two of you, but instead of Youngjae tagging along, it was Haknyeon. “Teacher Y/N!!” Sunwoo screams, waving up in the air to grab your attention. “Teacher teac- oh-” he stops making a fuss when he sees Joonyoung stirring in Changmin’s arms, one of the boy’s hands reaching up to rub his eyes open.

Changmin mutters a ‘darn it’, but wishes Joonyoung a good morning, quietly asking him if he had a good nap on his shoulder.

“Teacher Y/N,” Sunwoo repeats.

“Is there something wrong?” you ask, looking to see where the two boys came from. You realize that the room went dead silent, frantic gazes presented on both Sunwoo’s and Haknyeon’s faces. Your eyes trail back to the bean bags, seeing Youngjae’s body sprawled out while the other kids poke at his cheeks.

“Youngjae fell asleep,” Haknyeon explains, raising the water bottle he’s been holding in his head.

“Then let him sleep,” you sigh.

“Wasn’t he awake just two minutes ago?” Changmin wonders, setting Joonyoung down on the ground so the boy is able to join the rest of the children.

“He knocks out randomly,” Sunwoo explains.

Haknyeon starts shaking the bottle in your face. “Teacher Y/N,” he pouts, finally garnering your attention.

“Oh what- holy hell, no Haknyeon, we are not doing that again-”

“Pretty pleaseeee,” Sunwoo begs, Haknyeon being quick to join his pleas.

“A no is a no,” you explain. “The last time we did that, Youngjae threw a fit and caused all of us to go hide in the bathroom while he-”

“Thank you, Teacher Changmin!!” the boys thank in unison, running back over to the bean bags with the now opened water bottle.

You look at your co-teacher in disbelief, mouth fallen agape. His hands were on his hips, satisfied with what he had just done and the cheers heard throughout the playroom from the other boys.

Only then did he realize your wide eyes were staring into his soul.

“What?”

“T-They’re going to pour the water on Youngjae,” you sputter.

“Yeah, I guessed.”

“...He’s four. He could drown.”

“I know CPR….kind of. But hey, YouTube exists!!” he beamed.

Both of your heads snap over to the group of boys when Youngjae gasps for air, his piercing gaze darting towards the boys that had poured water on him.

“You really are a kid,” you mutter, taking his wrist in your hand before dragging him over to the closet in the corner of the playroom.

Changmin is too busy locking eyes with Sunwoo, giving the young boy a thumbs up before returning his focus back over to you. “Am not! I’m just the cooler teacher between the both of us.”

“You’re the bratty one if anything.” You pull the closet open and grab the mop after releasing him from your grip.

“Sounds like someone’s jealous,” he coos, letting out a huff when you hand him the mop. “Also, I’d prefer playful, not bratty.”

“Changmin? Playful? Well, isn’t that new?” You mimic his coo, shoving an empty bucket into his chest. “Fill it up with water.”

“Wait- how does cleaning water with water make any sen-”

“Oh just do it, Changmin.”

//

You’re busy playing bingo with Hyunjae, Sunwoo, and Haknyeon when Hyungseo walks up to you, shyly standing next to you with his hands behind his back. “Teacher Y/N...I have a question,” he begins.

“Oh? What is it?” you ask, pulling Hyungseo away from the table in case it turns out to be something personal.

You can hear Sunwoo saying ‘awh man’ in the background, and it makes you assume that Hyunjae won with the loud ‘HAH’ that follows afterwards.

“Why hasn’t Teacher Changmin read us anything yet? Is he not going to read to the class?” Hyungseo is kicking at his feet when he speaks, avoiding eye contact.

“That is a...very good question, Hyungseo.” You look over at your co-teacher and find him brushing a doll’s hair with Chanhee, the two looking like they were in a very deep conversation. “Should we go over to him and ask?”

Hyungseo nods and follows you over to the pair. You have Hyungseo join Chanhee before taking Changmin into your grasp, pulling him up onto his feet before bringing him out of earshot.

Changmin still has the doll in his hand with the brush tangled in its hair, waving it in front of you. “I don’t know if you can see, Y/N, but I was busy playing salon with Chanhee.”

You roll your eyes. “Guess what Hyungseo just asked me.”

“What?”

“‘Why hasn’t Teacher Changmin read us anything?’” you repeat Hyungseo’s plea word for word.

His face falls blank at the question, pushing away from you in order to avoid the question. You laugh loudly and pull him back.

“C’mon Jichang, he’s not wrong.”

“Says the one who calls me Jichang,” he grumbles, setting the doll aside on one of the tables.

“It rolls off the tongue easier,” you shrug. “But that’s not the point. July is almost approaching, which means you’ve basically been here for around three weeks, and you haven’t read a single story to the class.” You frown, loosely hugging yourself as you continue with your eyes slowly drifting away from Changmin. “I know you’re only here for the money, but it wouldn’t hurt to read to them, you know?”

Changmin internally flinches at the mention, wishing he wasn’t reminded of why he was here in the first place. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he explains. “It’s just-...well, okay yeah, it’s because I don’t want to.”

“Exactly, but at least try it once! Just to see how it goes, and if it turns out traumatizing, then you don’t have to do it again for the rest of the summer.”

“I’m not reading a story-”

“STORY!” Youngjae squeaks, running out from behind Changmin’s legs and over to the bookshelves to grab a book.

Sunwoo awkwardly steps out too, waving to the both of you before leaving.

Changmin’s left in shock. “Were they always there?”

“Yep.”

He sighs, rubbing his temples.

Youngjae trips over his feet when he runs back over to you two with a book in his hands, reaching up to hand it to Changmin. Changmin takes it and stares at the cover, his distressed eyes turning into shocked ones.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Nope. Not doing this. The Three Little Pigs? More like not today!-”

“Great!!” you exclaim, clapping your hands. “Everyone, gather by the reading rug because Teacher Changmin has a story he’s going to read to us.”

Changmin glares at you, but you’re too busy moving the kids to the rug. You have them all sit down while facing the rocking chair you bought recently, motioning Changmin to come over.

Out of all the kids, Hyungseo is the one most excited despite having already read The Three Little Pigs on countless occasions. He’s the one sitting closest to the chair, hand in hand with Joonyoung as they anticipate the new reader.

Seeing him makes Changmin give in with a sigh, walking over to sit in the rocking chair. Changmin’s never been a fan of reading, much less a fan of reading out loud, but considering they’re only kids, he convinces himself that it can’t be too bad. Not to mention it’s a children’s book and not a presentation.

Though, it doesn’t help that all ten boys are staring at him in silence, waiting for the teacher to start.

You pull one of the chairs out from under a table, bringing it over to the rug to join the rest. You give him a warm smile to reassure his anxious state, gesturing for him to begin.

Juyeon catches your presence from the corner of his eye and stands up, almost stepping on Youngjae as he makes his way over to you. The preschooler reaches out his hands, hesitantly asking if he could sit in your lap through a whisper.

A laugh escapes you as you nod, pulling him up into your lap. While you’re checking to see that Juyeon is snug in your embrace, Changmin is constantly clearing his throat in order to spare himself some time from reading.

“Oh hurry up,” Younghoon groans loudly, earning himself a slap from Hyungseo.

“I will throw this book at you,” Changmin threatens, eliciting a laugh out of the younger boys of the group. The teacher clears his throat once more before opening it up to the first page.

When he begins to read, his voice comes off as shaky, but as time passes, Changmin grows to naturally read the words off the pages with ease, making sure to project his voice loud enough for the boys.

It all goes smoothly until Haknyeon stands up in the middle of the story to head over to you, asking you through a whisper if he could go use the bathroom. You nod as a response and give him the ‘go ahead’.

You turn your attention back to Changmin and notice his eyes looking into yours, the story coming to a halt.

‘Is he okay?’ he mouths, gesturing towards Haknyeon with a worried expression.

You reassure him by mouthing ‘he’s okay’ in return, and the stiffness in his posture fades.

So Changmin continues and even tries making it fun for the boys, mimicking the wolf by lowering his voice to the best of his abilities. The kids burst into a fit of laughter when Changmin starts to choke after attempting to recreate the wolf’s blow in the story, pulling a chuckle out of you as well.

The room is then filled with the sound of the phone ringing, making everyone’s head turn to the direction of the sound. You bring Juyeon down onto the ground in order to stand up, making your way over to the phone.

“It’s Teacher Y/N’s boyfriend!!” Youngjae screams, causing him to be shoved over by Chanhee.

Changmin hears this and perks up.

“Boyfriend?” he murmurs, setting the book down before jogging over to you out of curiosity. “Since when do you have a boyfriend?”

“Since never,” you snort. “They just like teasing me about it because I’m single.”

When Changmin parts his lips to respond, you bring a finger up to your own, motioning him to hush as you bring the phone up to your ear.

“Hello, this is Y/N speaking.”

“Y/N! Goodness gracious, I’ve been stuck in traffic for the past hour now, and I’m nowhere near home. I’m afraid I won’t be able to pick Chanhee up in time today.”

“It’s no problem, seriously,” you respond while eyeing Changmin. “Thank you so much for calling in advance.”

The playroom goes back to being filled with the children’s laughter, but Changmin is still tuning into your conversation, leaning against the cabinets.

“Chanhee is doing great here...Mhm, yeah, seriously, it’s no worries...You too! Have a wonderful day, Mrs. Choi.”

The phone call ends with a smirk on Changmin’s face, and you blatantly ignore it while putting the phone away.

“So, you’re single?”

“You stayed here during the entire conversation just to ask that?”

“No, actually. I also wanted to bring up how that is exactly how a situation should be handled—unlike what Hyunjae’s mother has been doing for the past few weeks. She’s never consistent with picking Hyunjae up and never calls to inform you.”

“Yeah yeah, I know.”

You’ve heard enough of Changmin’s scolding for the past three weeks, and he’s used the excuse that although he has never taken care of children in the past, he knows enough about the rights and wrongs of parenthood.

‘Were you ever a parent yourself?’ was what you had asked when you wanted him to shut up, but it only made him point out that he doesn’t have to be a parent to know human decency.

“Hey, I’m just saying.” Changmin shrugs and follows you out from behind your desk, hands behind his back as he looks at you from over your shoulder. “So...no boyfriend?”

He’s grinning brightly, teasing you when you continue to groan loudly.

//

“You really enjoy the fact that I’m single, don’t you?” you say as you mop the floors.

“Huh? What makes you say that?” Changmin is also mopping with you; ever since Changmin started allowing the boys to pour water on Youngjae in order to wake him up, you bought another mop just so he could help you clean the floors.

While you two were cleaning after the long day of making paper airplanes, Hyunjae, the only boy left in the playroom (again), is on the beanbags, humming to himself while reading a book you bought specifically for him.

“You haven’t stopped teasing me about it ever since Mrs. Choi’s phone call from a week ago.”

“I mean I just didn’t know you were single until then. I never thought about your relationship status, but if I ever had to think about it, I’d assume you were seeing someone.” He shrugs, setting the mop aside to pick up the bucket of dirty water.

“Why would you assume that?” you ask, curious. You set the mop aside as well, sitting down on one of the chairs to relax your feet.

“I don’t know. I guess because you work with kids.” The impact of the water from the bucket hitting the sink makes Hyunjae squeak at the noise, the book dropping from his hands.

“I lost the page I was on,” he frowns, picking it back up.

Changmin apologizes to the boy and brings the empty bucket back over to you, hugging it.

“Are you single?” you question.

He smiles at your sudden interest in his love life, nodding. “Yeah, I am.” He then gasps, putting the bucket down on the ground before leaning over the table to look at you. “Wait if you’re single, and I’m single, can I take you out on a date?”

If you were drinking water while he spoke, you would’ve definitely spat in his face.

“I- excuse me? Huh? You want to take me out on a date?” Your question is loud enough for Hyunjae to hear it, the young boy tuning into your conversation.

“Well it sounds weird when you say it,” Changmin huffs, scrunching his nose. “I mean since we’re going to be working with each other for the next two months, why not? It wouldn’t hurt to get to know each other more. It doesn’t even have to be the romantic kind of date, just something platonic between two friends.”

You can’t help but smile at his words, glad that you aren’t the only one that considers each other ‘friends’ instead of ‘co-workers’ now. The teasing grin on his lips also makes it incredibly hard to decline his offer.

“Okay, fine.”

His grin turns into shock, not expecting you to give in so easily. “Wait, really? You’re serious, right?”

“You guys are dating?” Hyunjae asks, voice raising as he shuts the book. He leaves it behind when he runs over to you two. “You guys like each other?”

The sudden question from the kid makes the both of you unintentionally flustered.

“No,” you deny. “Go back to reading your book.”

He frowns, sulking on his way back to the bean bags.

“Is that a yes to the date?” Changmin asks, his voice a bit lower so Hyunjae is unable to hear.

“Your enthusiasm is telling me you’ve been wanting to ask me out for the past three weeks,” you tease, standing up from your spot to gather the mops into your hands.

“Again, when you say it, it sounds really weird, but hey, it isn’t wrong for me to want to get to know you better.” He picks up the bucket and leads you over to the closet, pulling it open.

“I guess you’re right there. I kind of want to learn more about you too.” You set the mops inside of the bucket once it has been placed down on the ground, going back to sit at the table.

“Really? Am I that interesting?” Changmin pulls out the chair next to you and sits down, letting out a satisfied sigh after being finally done with cleaning the playroom.

“Yes, in fact, you are,” you scoff.

Despite working with Changmin for the past three weeks, you knew absolutely nothing about his life outside of the daycare. You don’t know the person he was (or is), and what he even needed the money for.

Though, you did learn about how cocky he could get, but you blame that on the boys in the daycare. If it wasn’t for them, Changmin wouldn’t be so comfortable teasing you whenever given the chance.

“What do you want to learn about me, then?”

“That-” you stand up when hearing the jingle from the front door, “-I’ll answer when we’re on our ‘date’.”

Hyunjae scrambles to put the book on the shelf when you go to greet Hyunjae’s mother, inviting her inside the playroom. She takes her son back into her arms with ease, rushing to leave the place right after.

She barely even gives you and Changmin a chance to say goodbye, but you shrug it off, knowing you’ll see him early in the morning tomorrow.

With everyone finally gone, you are about to go relax when you see Changmin already gathering his belongings, set to leave for the day.

The sight makes you feel uneasy, unable to stop the frown from appearing on your lips. Even when all the kids are gone, you and Changmin tend to hang around the playroom and have little talks before parting ways. Never has Changmin been this eager to leave the daycare, the corner of his lips turned upwards as he shoved his belongings into his pockets.

Your first impression of Changmin was that he was a dick, only here for the money, but he surely proved himself otherwise the past few weeks, causing him to not only grow on you but grow closer to you as well. He has been all smiles whenever he was around you and the boys, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t affect you in the slightest.

And perhaps your heart did flutter when he suggested the date earlier.

You wouldn’t say you have fallen for Changmin just yet; it has only been three weeks, after all.

But in those three weeks, he’s always brought a genuine smile to your face and helped you whenever you needed it. You felt like a preschooler again with the crush you had on him, and it was hard not to perk up whenever you heard his voice.

So to see him not wanting to spend any more time with you did unintentionally create a pit in your stomach.

“Going home already?” you ask, hesitant.

“Hm? Oh, no.” He laughs. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m stuck with you all summer, remember?” Changmin makes sure to check that he has everything before walking towards the doorway. He suddenly freezes, turning around to look at you.

“Wait, you’re available right now, right?”

“Huh? What- right now? Yeah...why do you ask?”

“...Holy shit, did I forget to ask?”

Your forehead creases, completely puzzled. “What?”

“The date. Let’s go on it. Right now. I meant to ask if we could go before Hyunjae leaves, but I guess I forgot.”

“O-oh....Right now?”

He sighs and re-enters the playroom. “Yes, right now. I remember seeing a diner on the way back to your apartment, and I was thinking we could have it there before I drop you off. I could also use a burger.”

You’re heated and at a loss of words, unable to move from your spot.

Changmin finally sees the expression you’re wearing, the excitement from his face washing away. “Uhm, I-I didn’t get the wrong idea, did I?”

His words snap you out of your daze, pushing the chair back as you stand up. “Not at all! Sorry I just-...I’d love to go on that date with you. Right now.”

//

Changmin stops you from pulling the door to the diner open, leaning against it as he looks at you. “So, what do you want to know about me?”

Your disbelief is evident in the scoff you let out. “Seriously Changmin? We haven’t even entered the diner. The date doesn’t officially start until we’re sitting.”

Changmin exaggerates his frown, becoming all pouty. “You’re no fun.”

He pulls the door open and follows you inside, looking around at the interior. There were only two or three other people in the diner, all sitting alone while on their phones.

“Table for two,” you hum to a waitress, soon being led over to a booth in the corner.

Changmin sits across from you and the excitement is back on his face, leaning over the table while you pick up the menu. “So, what do you want to know about me?” he repeats.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” you laugh, skimming through the menu to see what you would like.

“I got it from Youngjae,” he gloats, flashing you a smile before picking up the menu himself. He already knows he wants a burger so it didn’t take long for him to choose which one, but it takes you a few more minutes to finally decide on what you wanted to eat.

After telling the waitress what you both wanted, you answer the question that he couldn’t stop asking.

“Well, for one, I want to learn about what you did before working at the daycare. Or is this your first job? Oh! I also want to know about what you need the money for and why you took the job.”

He cracks a smile at your rambling curiosity, slouching back into his seat with his gaze settling outside the window.

“You see, after graduating college, I applied for this elite dance academy. One of the best of the best. They accepted me in a heartbeat, but it turns out I didn’t have enough funds.” He tucks his hands into his pockets before turning his head back to look at you, deciding to maintain eye contact while explaining.

“So I worked many small jobs. Fast food, cashier, pizza delivery. Then last year, I finally found a decent paying job, and I was close to reaching my goal before it went out of business a month ago. Luckily, I saw your job offer and realized that the pay by the end of the summer is the amount I need left.”

He taps his foot against the ground, tilting his head as he looks at you. “So that means when summer ends, I’ll be off across the country, attending the dance academy I’ve always dreamed of going to.”

“Ah.” you nod, understanding. “So, dance is your passion?”

He clicks his tongue. “Bingo.”

“Okay okay, my turn.” Changmin then fixes his posture by sitting up straight, going back to leaning over the table with bright eyes gazing into yours. “What made you decide to open the daycare?”

Thrown off by the sudden closeness, you gulp, stuttering as you try to form your sentences. “Uhm, well, uh, I don’t know. I opened it a few years ago after uh- kind of running away from my parents. I always loved kids, so I figured a daycare would be perfect for the town we live in.”

A look of adoration takes over Changmin’s features. “You ran away from your parents?”

You sigh at the memory, nodding. “Yeah. I cut ties with them once I graduated high school and moved here after college.”

Changmin smiles lightly at your response, finally pulling away when he sees the waitress arriving. “I’m the same! Kind of. My parents never supported my passion for dancing, saying it was useless, so I left. Haven’t heard from them since.”

The crooked grin plastered on his face makes you laugh, shaking your head. “I guess we are similar in some aspects, huh?”

“Definitely.”

The waitress sets down the plates in front of the two of you, leaving after receiving your thanks. Changmin digs in instantly, having not eaten lunch yet once again due to feeding Haknyeon everything he packed.

“Do you like dancing?” he asks with a stuffed mouth.

You twirl your spaghetti with your fork, playing with it as you hum. “Never tried it.”

His jaw drops. “You’re lying,” he accuses, setting his burger down to pat his lips clean.

“God, I wish. I just never had a reason to.” You finally start to eat what was on your plate, ignoring the bewildered look Changmin has on his face.

“Let me change that.”

“Hm?”

“Let me give you a reason to dance. You see, Y/N, a life without dancing is like-...is like, uh- it’s like a life without kids!”

You gasp dramatically, dropping your fork onto your plate to bring your hand over your chest. “You did not just go there!”

“Indeed I did!” He huffs proudly, going back to eating his burger.

“How would you give me a reason to dance?”

Changmin leans back into the booth and thinks, eyes wandering around the ceiling. “Hm. That’s a good question.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, resuming to eat your spaghetti.

After five minutes of thinking, Changmin begins to whine. “I mean, aren’t I enough of a reason?”

“Not really,” you tease. “I mean, what? Are you going to pull me out into the middle of this diner just to get me to dance?”

“...I mean do you want me t-”

“No.”

“We could be living the life of the main couple in a movie, Y/N,” he sighs.

“Who says we’re not?” you retort, stabbing one of the meatballs on your plate with your fork.

Your words throw both you and Changmin off guard, becoming silent after hearing what you had just said.

“I did not mean to say that out loud,” you mumble, covering it up with a cough.

But a smile slowly grows onto Changmin’s lips, looking down at his burger as he can’t stop himself from feeling giddy inside.

//

July and August pass like a breeze. Because of this, it barely spares you a moment to even think about your developing feelings for your co-worker.

Your summer isn’t that eventful considering it was the same thing every day: go to the daycare at 5:30am, leave with Changmin at 6pm (or later if Mrs. Lee chooses to pick up Hyunjae later than usual), eat dinner with your favorite show playing at 7pm, and then sleep at 9pm.

Both you and Changmin have boring lives because of this set schedule, and there were no longer any talks about having a second date.

Maybe the first date was just platonic after all.

But you know your feelings for Changmin aren’t platonic whatsoever. The way he mimics Youngjae’s lisp as the preschooler learns to form words always manages to give you a boost of serotonin, and the way he protects Juyeon from the others whenever the five-year-old does something to piss Chanhee off has you melting.

In all honesty, with how Changmin was able to steal your heart in only two months, you would’ve already confessed.

But something held you back.

You can’t tell if it’s because Changmin would be leaving or if it’s because you don’t want to be left heartbroken.

It’s been years since you last fell in love (yes, in love) with someone, so it comes as no surprise when you finally realize that you’re head over heels for your co-teacher.

On Changmin’s last day in the daycare, you and the boys threw him a surprise farewell party after having it in the works for weeks, and thankfully it was one that completely caught Changmin off guard.

And if you remember correctly, he did cry a bit as well.

So now, after Changmin has wished all the boys goodbye, the only people remaining in the playroom are you, Changmin, and Hyunjae.

At least this time you received a call from Hyunjae’s mother, stating that she wouldn’t be able to pick him up until later in the evening.

Changmin was quick to insert a quip when you hang up, joking around by saying ‘that’s her gift to me for finally leaving, isn’t it?’.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay longer for Hyunjae.” Changmin slings his backpack over his shoulder after zipping it up.

“I understand. You need all the time to go pack.” You walk over to him with an envelope in your hand, passing it over to him. “As promised.”

He slowly brings it into his hands and takes out the final check he’s been waiting for, and he’s unsure if he wants to smile or frown. “Thanks,” he murmurs.

Changmin doesn’t move from his spot, continuing to stare at the paycheck while his fingers fiddle with the paper. You took the opportunity to head to the bulletin board, removing one of the paintings.

After a minute of silence, Changmin sighs and puts it back into the envelope, holding it in one of his hands.

And yet he’s still unable to move, but that’s mainly because Hyunjae has his arms wrapped tightly around his legs, unwilling to let the older male go.

“You’ll come back one day, right? To visit us?” he asks, looking up at him.

He leans down to give his head a pat, running his fingers through the boy’s hair afterwards. “Of course I will,” he whispers, smiling warmly.

“Promise?”

Changmin laughs and crouches down onto the ground, putting out his pinky. “I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you tease, returning with Hyunjae’s painting in your hands. You crouch down to join the other two just so you could poke at his shoulder.

“Who says I can’t keep promises?” Changmin cocks a brow at you.

“I was just testing you,” you coo, laughing when Changmin shakes his shoulder away from your finger.

“Once I graduate from the academy, I will come back to visit the daycare, and maybe I’ll get to see Hyunjae all grown up.” He brings his attention back to the five-year-old, noticing how Hyunjae has been tearing up. Changmin wiggles his pinky, urging Hyunjae to link it with his.

Hyunjae sniffs loudly and wipes away his tears with his sleeve before linking his pinky with Changmin’s. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” the teacher whispers, gently tugging on Hyunjae’s pinky to bring him closer. He presses a small kiss to Hyunjae’s forehead.

Changmin then looks over at you. “Link your pinky with ours to seal the promise.”

“Hey!” Hyunjae exclaims, making the both of you giggle.

Your dejected smile doesn’t go unmissed when you wrap your pinky around theirs.

Changmin gives Hyunjae one last, comforting hug before you’re walking him out the doors to the entrance.

As always, he pulls the glass doors open for you to walk out first, joining you shortly after.

Instead of walking to the parking lot, you two head for the bench that sits by the only active street in front of the daycare, watching the cars speed by while you sit there in silence.

The wind runs through his hair, and yet it still manages to look gorgeous as ever.

“You will come back one day, right?”

Changmin laughs at the question. “Are you really doubting my ability to keep a promise?” he looks over at you and cracks a wide smile. “Of course I will. For you, I will.”

You give him no response, and he clears his throat, going back to look at the cars. It takes a while for you to give him Hyunjae’s painting, falling right back into the silence as he stares at the paper in his hands.

A few minutes pass and you realize that you shouldn’t be leaving Hyunjae alone in the daycare for this long, so you stand up.

He shadows your action, standing up with you with both his paycheck and Hyunjae’s painting in one hand. Changmin doesn’t stop looking at you, like he was waiting for you to say something.

You knew it was now or never.

“...Changmin.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

And you chose never.

“Give me a call when you make it to the academy. Just so I know you made it there alright.”

If you were looking, you would be able to see the sparkle in his eyes vanish, his gaze no longer holding a glint of hope for what he wanted you to say.

You have your back facing Changmin, refusing to even spare him a glance. You never did too well with goodbyes; it’s the reason why you always run from people in your life or ignore the people that had to leave.

“Goodbye, Changmin,” you breathe out, and just like that, you’re gone.

//

The knock on your door grows increasingly louder each second, proving the person on the other side impatient.

Before stumbling out from under your blankets, you manage to capture a glimpse of the time on your alarm clock.

Who the fuck could be at your door at 2 in the morning?

It’s hard to keep your eyes open as you feel around for the lights, flicking them on before heading over to the front door.

You’re so tired that you forget to check who was outside your door, swinging it wide open just to get the knocking to stop.

And there stood Changmin dressed in his plaid pajamas, his chest heaving after running up the sets of stairs. His glasses look like they were put on at the last minute, and the mess on the top of his head is something you don’t even want to talk about.

Before you can even part your lips to speak, he raises a hand up to your face, shutting you up with just that one gesture.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, trying to catch his breath.

“T-that has, oh my god, that h-has got to be the most exercise I’ve done in months.”

“W-what are you doing here?” you stutter, having your eyes frantically scan him all over.

“Sleep, I-I coul-couldn’t sleep.”

“Changmin, do you want to come inside to rest? Is everything okay? Why- why the fuck are you at my apartment at 2am???”

“Wait just- give me a few seconds,” he wheezes, bent over with his hand on one of his knees. “Holy shit I’m so out of shape.”

You glare at him, judging eyes burning straight into his skull. You’re now completely wide awake with your heart beating against your chest, still in disbelief how your crush was standing in front of you.

“Fuck, okay okay, I-I’m better. Listen Y/N, I’ll just say everything here, in front of you, okay?”

“Say what?”

“Just listen.” He pauses to stand up straight, leaning against the doorframe as he fixes his glasses. “Y/N, I couldn’t sleep because it’s bothering me. I—I don’t know how else to say this, but fuck it’s been bothering me so much, and I just–god, I really need you to tell me.” He has his fingers wrapped around the doorframe, gripping it tightly as he continues to breathe heavily. His eyes are searching through yours for some sort of confirmation.

You remain completely oblivious to what he means, your eyebrows furrowed as you try to figure out what he wants from you. “You...need me...to tell...you? Tell you what??”

Changmin shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing it between his fingers as he speaks.

“Tell me...tell me I’m not the only one who wants something….Us. I want us, Y/N. I wanted us for these past two months, but I was so stupid to hold off on confessing because I was afraid it was too early. I keep thinking I’ll eventually move on from this stupid crush on you, but I can’t, and I don’t think I will until you tell me straight to my face that you don’t like me.”

You try to interrupt him, but he doesn’t allow you to do so.

“Two months, Y/N. I’ve been feeling this way for two months, and I don’t want to move on from these feelings. I don’t want to. I can’t, and I came here to see if you feel the same about me before it’s too late.”

He’s biting the inside of his cheek as he waits for you to respond, but when you’re left speechless, he continues.

“Just—just tell me whether you like me or not, and-” he gulps, frustratingly running a hand through his hair, “and if not, if I completely misunderstood the hints you’ve been giving me in the daycare, then I’ll be on my way back. I’ll go pack my suitcases and prepare to leave for tomorrow. I’ll leave, I’ll go to the academy, and come back to the daycare in the next few years. Ju-just like I promised, but Y/N, if you do like me, please, please just tell me because I don’t know how long I can go on without knowing how you feel, and it’s bugging the fuck out of me.”

“I- Changmin-”

“Y/N, please, I’m begging you. I need closure before I leave.”

When you stare into his eyes, the desperation is clear. You’re struggling to figure out if this confession is real or not; if this wasn’t just some stupid dream you’re having.

So without thinking, your fingers reach to tug at the collar of his flannel, pulling him in to smash your lips against his.

The impact and the actual touch of his lips causes your eyes to shoot wide open, realizing what you’ve done. You push him away in an instant, gaping at him. “Fuck, holy fuck, this is real. You’re real.”

He stares at you in disbelief after stumbling backwards, blinking multiple times.

“...I didn’t run up seven flights of stairs just for you to say I’m real.”

“Holy shit, you’re real!” you exclaim. Your hand reaches for the door, slamming it shut with your back pressed up against it.

Now you’re the one left breathless, frantically looking everywhere as you try to process what the hell just happened.

It takes Changmin banging his fist on your door for you to finally open it up again, and you’re not even given time to think when he pulls you in by cupping your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I’m real,” he whispers once he pulls away, grazing his thumb over your skin.

You mirror the smile that formed on his lips, moving to wrap your arms around his waist to pull him in closer. “Are you sure?”

“...Do you need confirmation again?”

When you nod with the brightest look on your face, he doesn’t hesitate to bring you back in for the third kiss of the night.

//

“Good afternoon, darling.”

You roll your eyes at your co-teacher’s greeting after entering through the glass doors, setting your bag down onto the front desk.

“One night, Changmin. We’ve only known about how we felt for each other for one night, and you’re alr- wait. How the fuck did you beat me to the daycare?”

You shoot your gaze over to the open door leading to the playroom, entering the room to find Changmin standing on one of the round tables with something in his arms.

“I came here at 6am, actually. Forgot that the daycare opens later now because the kids have school, so instead of going back home, I went to go buy a projector!” He turns to face you and stretches his arms out towards your way, presenting it to you. “Look!”

“You sound exactly like Youngjae whenever he wants to show off his toy train,” you chuckle, standing right next to the table he was on with your hands on your hips.

“Oh shut up. Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing with a projector? Or why am I standing on a table?” He becomes pouty due to your lack of curiosity, hugging the projector close to his chest.

Unfortunately for him, you just find him incredibly adorable. “Okay okay, fine. Changmin, why are you standing on the table with a projector?”

“Great question! I’m trying to mount it up onto the ceiling.” He brings his gaze up to the ceiling, pointing up at it. “I already got the wires taped up and the base screwed in, see? I just need to hook this thing up to that thing, and yeah—yeah it should work.” He gives the projector a gentle pat before looking back at you.

Skeptical, you narrow your eyes at him. “...Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Nope!” he strangely replies enthusiastically. “But I’m sure the guys on YouTube know what they’re doing. YouTube is very helpful, you know.”

“Yes, I’ve heard….Are you sure that thing is sturdy? What if it falls onto one of the kids?”

“Easy. Just don’t put the kids under the projector.” Changmin tries to bring the projector onto the hook he’s connected to the ceiling, struggling to make it line up with the screen he hung up.

“Okay, fine. What if it falls on me?”

“...Don’t stand under the projector.”

You continue to pester him with questions as he adjusts the position of the box.

“Okay, but what if the projector flies across the room and then hits my head?”

Changmin bites the inside of his cheek, slowly removing his hands from the box before smiling proudly at himself. “Flies? I don’t think that’s possible, Y/N.” He turns to look down at you. “But if it ever does happen, I’ll kiss your head better.”

“...I kind of miss the old Changmin.”

He hums, taking the wires into his fingers as he tries to connect them to the projector. “No you don’t.”

You move to sit on the table Changmin was standing on, continuing to look up at him with a smile creeping onto your face. You couldn’t even get mad at him for the way he’s behaving; not when he’s here with you and not at the dance academy.

However, he notices this, and being the petty person he is, he nudges your butt off the surface of the table with his foot. “Y/N, off,” he mimics, reminding you of his first day here.

“We’re not in front of the kids,” you reason, watching him get him off the table.

He stares up at the projector to see if it would fall before looking at you. “Oh, so we’re going to play that game now?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

To Changmin, the question was taunting, so he doesn’t hesitate to peck your lips, catching you off guard.

“What was that for?” you ask, blinking when he rests his hands on your thighs.

“Just taking my chances while we’re not in front of the kids.”

“Gross,” Sunwoo deadpans, making your head turn towards the direction of the voice. Both he and Youngjae are standing in the doorway, staring at what you two have just done while holding onto their backpacks.

“Cootie alert,” Youngjae yawns, and the two make their way over to their designated baskets, tossing their backpacks into them before sluggishly waddling over to the bean bags.

You turn to look back at Changmin with wide eyes, and his expression mirrors yours.

“Do you- do you think they noticed?”

“Noticed the fact you’re back or the fact we kissed?”

Changmin huffs at your response before facing the two kids, noticing how they’re already knocked out with Youngjae’s snore filling the playroom.

“School tires them out,” you explain, removing yourself from the table to join the two, crouching down in front of them.

Changmin goes over to your side and sits down on the ground, poking Sunwoo’s cheek. “Hey buddy, no hello for Teacher Changmin?”

Sunwoo peeks an eye open and shuts it right after, shifting in his spot to face the other direction. “Later, ‘m tired.”

After a minute or two, Youngjae shoots up in his spot, wide eyes searching for said teacher. “Teacher Changmin?!?”

The laugh that escapes you warms Changmin’s heart instantly, unable to remove his eyes from you while Youngjae runs over to him, repeatedly poking his dimple.

“You’re here?? What are you doing here?”

By now, Sunwoo has also jerked awake, finally able to connect two and two. He excitedly wraps his arms around Changmin’s neck, almost choking him when he tightens his grip.

You watch as Changmin plays with the two boys after settling in Youngjae’s spot on the bean bag, unable to prevent the smile from forming on your lips.

“How was school?” Changmin asks, holding onto Sunwoo’s arms when the four-year-old starts jumping up and down.

“Terrible!”

“I like my teacher.” Youngjae smiles.

The difference between the two voiced opinions makes Changmin laugh, pulling both of them into his grasp. He then starts to attack them with tickles, calling it revenge for not being spared a single glance earlier.

Slowly, the other boys start to file into the playroom after being dropped off by their respective buses, many sharing gasps and screams at the sight of the returned teacher.

Hyunjae is the one who arrives last, kicking at the ground when he makes his way inside the daycare.

He stops when he sees Changmin, and the happiness that explodes within him is indescribable. He’s left speechless at the sight of his favorite person, and his backpack falls onto the ground when he stands frozen by the door. Hyunjae’s wide eyes are glued onto Changmin’s every movement, mouth falling agape.

The six-year-old rubs his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, but surely enough Changmin is actually standing right in front of him, waving.

“I cried over you yesterday!” he accuses, pointing his finger at the teacher.

But Hyunjae doesn’t hesitate to run over to him when Changmin crouches down onto the ground with open arms.

“I thought you were going to come back when I’m all grown up,” he whispers, burying his face into the crook of Changmin’s neck.

“I mean it’s your first day of first grade, isn’t it? I’d say you’re all grown up.” Changmin holds the boy close in his embrace, and Hyunjae pulls away, bringing the teacher’s cheeks between his hands.

“It was scary,” he whispers, squishing his cheeks.

“Well I’m here now, so you can tell me everything that happens in class.”

You’re pettily watching everything unfold from your seat on the bean bag, cuddling a tired Youngjae to sleep while the other boys are scattered throughout the playroom.

“Where was this energy when I was sick for two weeks?” you mumble.

“I missed you when you were sick,” Youngjae mumbles, unintentionally slapping your chest with his hand due to being half asleep.

//

“Bye Teacher Changmin!!”

Changmin waves Hyungseo and his parents goodbye and returns to the playroom.

You have already begun cleaning up, and Hyunjae has his nose buried in the book you bought him, silence overtaking the room.

He walks over to you and sees that you’re dusting the cabinets, wanting to see if he could be of any use.

“There’s not much to clean today since we barely did anything.”

Changmin agrees, bobbing his head up and down. He chooses to lean against the counter, watching your every move.

This causes you to start a conversation, asking a question that Changmin hasn’t answered.

“You never explained why you bought a projector earlier.”

He tilts his head tenderly towards you, beaming at the topic you brought up. “Right! Remember when I said I’ll give you a reason to dance?”

You nod, slowing your movements just so you could spend more time listening to Changmin speak.

“I thought it would be a nice idea if every Sunday, we could have the kids do karaoke! I’m sure they’ll enjoy it. Right, Hyunjae?” He turns to look at the boy, but Hyunjae is so immersed in the plot of his book that he’s unintentionally blocking out the conversation you’re having with Changmin.

Changmin’s face falls. “He likes that book too much,” he mutters.

“It was one of my favorites as a kid,” you explain. “It’s a bit more advanced for a six-year-old, but his reading comprehension is pretty up there. Not to mention he’s mature enough to understand the topic it’s about.” You stop what you’re doing to bring the duster over to Changmin’s face, tickling the tip of his nose with it. “You should read it out loud to him one day.”

You laugh when Changmin gags, pushing the duster away from his face. “That’s disgusting, Y/N!”

“Anyway, we went off topic. So basically you’re saying you planned karaoke every Sunday without me? When this is my daycare?”

“Basically, yeah.”

You set the duster aside and fake a pout. “I’m feeling very betrayed right now, Changmin.”

“Hey, it’s a great idea! You would’ve accepted it anyway. I bought the microphones and speakers online, and I’m waiting for them to arrive.”

“...Where the hell did you get the money?”

He looks elsewhere, shifting his weight between his feet when he blows a raspberry. “The paycheck…”

You look at him concerned, your voice falling softer as you speak. “You’re really not going to the dance academy, huh?”

“...Not anymore, no.” His gaze falls to the ground, acting like a kid that’s afraid to admit wrongdoing. “I have no reason to attend when I want to share a future here….with you. Cheesy, isn’t it?”

His words bring a shy smile to your face. “Pretty much, yeah. Also, since when did you become so lovey dovey? We’re not even officially together.” You lean along the counter with him, wishing he would look up so your eyes could gaze into his.

“It’s hard to resist saying stuff like that around you,” he admits, scratching his nape. He looks up to find the cabinets still open. “Are you done dusting?”

“Oh! No, not yet.” You take the duster back into your hands and pick up where you left off, a blush forming on your cheeks when you feel Changmin’s eyes on you.

“So....how is karaoke going to give me a reason to dance?”

“Simple. We’ll give the kids the microphones and have them sing while we dance.”

You glance over at him. “You’re crazy.”

“What??” He stands up straight, getting defensive. “How? It’s a wonderful idea, if you ask me. They’ll be too busy singing to even notice us dancing.”

“Yeah, and my ears will be too busy bleeding.”

“Y/N!!” He looks over at Hyunjae to see if he’s heard anything.

“Listen, have you ever heard kids sing? Specifically, have you ever heard Youngjae sing??” You shove the duster into the cabinet before closing it shut.

“In fact, yes I have,” Changmin bluffs, tilting his chin upwards.

“It’s horrendous.”

“It is not!” Changmin defends. “He’s only four!”

You roll your eyes playfully at him, walking over to join Hyunjae by the bean bags. “And I’m only being honest.”

Changmin scoffs, crossing his arms as he follows you. “You don’t deserve Youngjae and his toy train.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Hyunjae asks, making a mental note of the page in his book before closing it.

Changmin sighs and plops down next to Hyunjae. “Teacher Y/N is being very disrespectful towards Youngjae’s ability to sing.”

“...But Youngjae can’t sing.”

“See!” You sit across the two, bringing your knees up to your chest. “I’m not the only one who feels that way.”

Shifting the topic, Changmin’s eyes dart down to the book in Hyunjae’s hands. “What page are you on?”

“I finished the book already,” Hyunjae says nonchalantly. He gives it to Changmin while you’re looking at the kid with wide eyes.

“Already??”

He nods. “The boy in the story, he….he dies, right?”

“That’s pretty much what’s implied, yeah,” you confirm. You lean over to ruffle up the boy’s hair. “I knew you’d catch on!”

“Great, you just spoiled it for me,” Changmin frowns, mainly messing around.

Due to his playful tone, Hyunjae slaps his arm, resting his head against it afterwards.

Changmin pouts and sets the book aside, wrapping an arm around the boy. “Are you tired?”

Hyunjae nods.

So Changmin brings Hyunjae into his lap, allowing the small boy to curl up in his embrace. “I’ll sleep with you,” he comforts, caressing one of his cheeks.

Changmin sends you a warm smile, and you give Hyunjae a small kiss on the head before standing up, leaving the two to fall asleep together.

//

“Can you believe today’s the last day of school for the boys? Time goes by fast, doesn’t it?” Changmin swings your intertwined hands as you walk down the sidewalk together.

“It does. Excited to have Hyunjae being the first kid at six am again?”

“Kinda. I’m really going to miss sleeping in and hearing stories about how Juyeon accidentally spilled paint on a girl.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Not only that, but the microphones haven’t arrived yet!! It’s been nine months since I’ve ordered them. Nine months!”

You cough loudly, immediately changing the topic. “Yeah, uhm, honestly? Nine months, and I still can’t believe–this–is a thing.” You gesture to your hand being held by Changmin’s, waving your finger.

“Hm? What? The hand holding?” He raises your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss onto your knuckles.

“I meant us, silly. I’m surprised none of the kids noticed a change in our relationship yet.”

“I mean there is a possibility that they’ve always seen us as a couple since the beginning. We do make a great one, if I do say so myself.” Changmin shrugs his shoulders, adjusting the glasses he was wearing.

You look over at him. “Are you considering us a couple?”

“...Are we not?”

“I mean not officially, no.”

He exhales loudly. “Nine months, and we aren’t even official.”

“I mean us being official won’t really change much.”

“Hey! Yes it will. I’d be able to show you off.”

“To who? Sunwoo and Youngjae? They’ve seen us kiss, stupid.”

“I have friends!” he retaliates. “Albeit friends I haven’t talked to in years, but friends nonetheless.”

You giggle, reaching over to pinch his cheek once you both stand outside the entrance of the bowling alley.

He pushes your hand away and grabs the handle of the door. “Ready to go bowling with your favorite person?”

“Oh you wish. Hyunjae still takes the crown as my favorite person.”

He pulls the door open with a huff, knowing he can’t beat Hyunjae in any aspect.

You both walk in, impressed by the neon lights illuminating off the glossy floors. The loud music is blaring through your ears, but it’s easily overridden by Changmin’s voice.

“There’s a roller skating rink here too,” he whispers, pointing over to it. You can easily tell by the pout on his face that he wants to go roller skating, so you choose to remind him why you two are here in the first place by turning him away from the sight.

“Another time,” you reassure.

You walk him over to the counter and give the worker both of your shoe sizes, clutching onto Changmin’s arm as you wait for your bowling shoes to be handed over. “It’s a nice place, isn’t it?”

“Definitely. Have you been here before?” He looks at you, bringing a finger up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. The tiny gesture doesn’t fail to bring a smile to your face, making you hum in response.

“Only once. Sangyeon had a birthday party here when he was four, and I was invited.”

Changmin thanks the worker once they have returned and collects the bowling shoes given, handing you your pair before leading you over to an empty alley.

“We should take the boys out for bowling one day. All of them. That’s possible, right?”

“This is supposed to be our date, Changmin, not you wanting the rest of the boys here,” you jest. “We already see them on a daily basis.”

“I’m just saying! Imagine if Haknyeon was here with us.” He sits down on the bench and starts removing his shoes. “He’ll honestly beat both of our asses. His precision is incredible.”

“That’s because he’s a five-year-old, and five-year-olds use the bowling ramp.” You copy Changmn’s actions after playfully punching his shoulder, taking your time with putting the bowling shoes on.

He rubs his shoulder and looks at you with a pout, dismissing your words with the roll of his eyes. Changmin then begins to input both of your names into the screen while you search for two bowling balls, choosing a purple one for him.

You come back with the two balls in your arms, and he looks at you worriedly, quick to grab the purple one from you.

“They weren’t heavy,” you pout, hating how Changmin underestimated your strength.

“You looked like you were going to drop them on your toe. I put my name first, by the way. I hope that’s okay.” But he doesn't allow you to respond, already walking up to the alley to begin.

“Oh it’s on, Ji Changmin,” you mutter, taking your seat on the bench.

Out of the past year with Changmin, you’ve never once seen each other’s competitive side during your dates. Sure, there have been times when you two fought over who was the more liked teacher in the daycare, but it was mainly you two joking around and having fun.

Today proves differently, especially when you two are constantly neck in neck with each frame that passes.

Your desperation to beat Changmin is what makes you mess up on the ninth frame, knocking down seven pins instead of eight and it causes you to become tied with Changmin.

“May the best player win,” he yawns, sliding his fingers through the holes of the bowling ball.

The way he intensely stares at the pins doesn’t intimidate you in the slightest, a smirk cockily resting on your lips. You know he is going to mess up the last frame, he has to, so you’re not too worried.

But when he doesn’t and gets two perfect strikes in a row, you know you’re completely fucked.

He zooms over to you and bends down to shove his face in front of yours, gloating. “I won!!”

You shove his face away with your hand, standing up with a huff. “You don’t know that.”

“C’mon Y/N, there’s no way you’re going to get two strikes!”

And to your dismay, he’s right.

When you see your ball shift to the right, you know you're completely done for.

Changmin runs up to hug you from behind while you’re moping over your loss, pressing your back up against his chest.

“See? I know you too well,” he coos, planting a kiss on your neck.

You whine, pushing away from his grip to make your way back over to your shoes. “You’re treating me with ice cream after this.”

“I was the one who won! That’s unfair,” he grumbles. He runs to catch up with you, beating you to the bench.

His smile returns, and his eyes are bright when he looks at you. “Want to know my secret to winning?”

“What?” you groan, plopping yourself down next to him. You rest your head on his shoulder as you wait for him to pull out something from his pocket.

Between his fingers is a folded piece of paper, and when he unravels it, you see that it’s Hyunjae’s painting of you three.

He gazes into your eyes while he shows it to you, whispering.

“It’s my lucky charm.”

//

“Are you sure it’s hidden?” Hyunjae questions, a frown forming on his face when he comes back after searching the shelves.

“I’m positive, Hyunjae. Help me keep looking. There’s no way the microphones aren’t here.” Changmin is searching high and low when it comes to your desk, opening every single drawer.

He groans and goes back to searching, wanting to be of some use for Changmin.

“I’m telling you, I don’t have them!” you shout, putting legos together on the ground with Haknyeon in your lap.

“Liar,” Changmin mutters to himself. He takes one more check around your desk before moving to the sinks.

Sunwoo is tailing the teacher around, mirroring Changmin’s exact movements.

“They’re not hereeee,” Hyunjae informs, referring to the bookshelves.

You laugh, shaking your head as you grab a handful of legos to dump onto the rug in front of Haknyeon.

Changmin pulls open one of the cabinets under the sink, and that’s when he finds a box (and it’s one he doesn’t recognize). He pulls it out and brings it onto a nearby table. He takes the lid off, and lo and behold are the missing microphones presented before him.

“I knew it!” he shouts. “I fucking knew it!”

“He fucking knew it!”

“...Go away, Sunwoo.”

The new five-year-old runs away and over to Chanhee and Younghoon, joining them with their puzzle.

“Y/N!! Hyunjae!!”

You mutter a ‘shit’ and remove Haknyeon from your lap, taking your time before finally making your way over to Changmin.

Hyunjae trudges his way over to the teacher. “Do I still get my five bucks?”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He takes out his wallet and takes out five one dollar bills, handing them to the boy before turning his attention over to you.

“You’re paying him?”

“Oh don’t try changing the subject. What is this?” He picks up the box, showing you what’s inside.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you sing-song, whistling as you look around the room.

He stares at you in disbelief. “You-...How long have you kept this here?” He kicks the cabinet door shut, referring to it.

“For like eight months,” you snort. You lean against the counter, nibbling on your lower lip to prevent a snicker from escaping you.

But it’s hard when Changmin is being brought into despair. “For the past eight months we could’ve been listening to Youngjae’s angelic singing,” he whines, setting the box back down onto the table with a thud. “Eight months, Y/N!”

“It’s not my fault you couldn’t find them.”

He exaggerates a groan, slamming the lid back onto the top of the box. “I didn’t even know they were here to begin with!”

“I know,” you giggle, bringing a hand over your lips. “Honestly? I’m not even mad you’ve found them.”

Your collected composure and failed attempt to hold back your laughter makes Changmin fall against you, resting his forehead on your shoulder. “I can’t believe you’ve had them all this time,” he whispers, allowing his eyes to fall shut.

“I know I know.” You pat his back, resting your head against his. “I’m quite the secret keeper, aren’t I?”

“He fucking knew it!”

Changmin picks his head up from your shoulder to glare at Sunwoo, watching the boy run away from the two of you and back over to the puzzle duo.

“If his parents start asking us why Sunwoo won’t stop saying ‘he fucking knew it’, you’re taking all the blame,” Changmin grumbles, going back to keeping his head on your shoulder.

“I wasn’t the one who swore!”

//

“Personally, I think this is the greatest decision I’ve ever made.”

You look at him dubiously, swinging your connected hands as you make your way down the sidewalk with the ten boys skipping in front of you.

“Wouldn’t that be the Karaoke Sundays idea?” you ask.

“...Okay, second greatest decision.”

You roll your eyes and let out a sarcastic ‘mhm’ as a response.

“What??” he looks at you whilst feigning offense, trying to read whatever is on your mind by staring straight into your eyes.

“How do you know this is your second greatest decision yet? I mean, we aren’t even at the park yet.”

Changmin points at the boys in front of you, raising his voice. “Look at them!! They’re already having so much fun. Not to mention how the day is gorgeous! the sun is gorgeous, the weather is gorgeous, you’re gorgeous-” He covers up his last few words with a forced cough but doesn’t hesitate to peek at your reaction.

“Didn’t know I signed up to be with a flirt,” you sigh.

Before Changmin is given a chance to respond, you hear Sunwoo screaming.

“We’re here!!” he calls out, and he’s the first one to run out into the open field.

All the boys follow after him, starting an intense game of tag while you’re figuring out a spot to sit with Changmin.

He runs over to a tree and places himself under the shade, urging you to come over.

And you do so only to realize how far you two were from the boys, concern growing within you. “How are we going to watch over ten boys?” you murmur, resting your head on Changmin’s shoulder with your hand still in his.

“You’re going to be watching them, not me.”

His nonchalant response throws you completely off guard, quick to pick your head up to stare at him. “What? You’re not leaving me, are you?”

Changmin doesn’t miss the way your grip around his hand tightens, and he clears his throat, distracting himself from the gaze that’ll only make him fall again for you once more.

Then again, he’d fall for you a thousand times, and he still wouldn’t mind.

“I’m not going to leave, dummy,” he says, flicking your temple.

“Then why would I be the only one watching them?” You rub your temple, pouting at him.

Changmin releases your hand from his grasp and chooses to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you close against him as he stares at you. “Because I’ll be too busy watching you.”

You gasp loudly and shove him away from you, crossing your arms while he’s laughing his ass off.

Eventually he notices how you turn your back towards him and starts attempting to receive your attention, resting his chin on your shoulder while looking at you.

“I’m sowwy,” he whines, and when you don’t respond to his antics, he makes an impulsive decision to litter kisses all over your face after making you look at him.

“You guys are gross.”

“Hello to you too, Hyunjae,” Changmin greets, removing himself from you in order to wave the boy over.

The boy seats himself between the two of you, bringing his arms around his knees while pressing his back up against the trunk of the tree. Without saying anything, Hyunjae scoots over to lean against your side, and you immediately bring him into your arms.

“You okay, little man?” Changmin asks, looking down at him.

“No. Sunwoo tripped me.”

While Changmin’s laughing, you avert your attention over to the group of boys still playing their game of tag. Juyeon’s currently made the tagger ever since he fell face first into the grass but hasn’t moved a single inch. It’s the reason why Hyungseo and Sangyeon start poking his sides with their toes, evoking a reaction out of the boy.

“I knew this wasn’t a good idea,” you mumble.

Changmin calms himself down and moves to rest his chin over Hyunjae’s head, his eyes meeting yours. “Is now the time to say I suggested this idea just to spend time with you?” he whispers.

“Again, ew.”

Changmin removes his chin from Hyunjae’s head to gently slap a hand over the boy’s mouth, momentarily shutting him up.

Unfortunately for the teacher, Hyunjae is quick to lick his hand, bringing the two into a playful yet physical fight.

Changmin wins by capturing Hyunjae within his arms, falling onto the ground. He looks over at you, prepared to boast about his win, when he sees you watching the other kids instead.

Regardless, the bright smile on his face doesn’t falter, and he almost forgets Hyunjae is in his arms until he bit him.

“Okay, now that was uncalled for,” Changmin whines, rubbing at the teeth marks imprinted into his skin.

“You were choking me,” Hyunjae huffs, going back over to your side.

“You could’ve told me!”

“I did!”

“Okay shut up, you two. I’m tired.”

The two heads turn to look at you with worried expressions, noticing how you’re struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Want to lie down?” Changmin asks, scooting over to sit next to you. When you nod, he allows you to have your head in his lap, telling you to close your eyes.

He runs his fingers through your hair, playing with it as Hyunjae moves to hug one of his arms. The boy begins to ramble about the shapes of the clouds in the sky, and Changmin listens to every word with a smile on his face, agreeing with every single thing Hyunjae’s mentioned.

Because of his mini ramble about clouds, the sounds from the other boys start to drown out, and minutes later they’re joining you three.

Sangyeon was the first one who got tired of the game of tag after being considered ‘it’ more than five times, inserting himself into the conversation about clouds by sitting next to Hyunjae.

All the boys are wiped out after constantly running and screaming, so none of them seem to question Changmin’s ever so loving gaze towards you. Either they don’t notice or don’t care enough to comment on the way he’s unable to stop looking at you, but it wasn’t like it mattered anyway.

Even if everyone in the world pointed it out, he still wouldn’t take his eyes off of you.

//

A year of Karaoke Sundays never gave you a reason to dance with him.

Changmin couldn’t tell if it was Youngjae’s so-called ‘horrendous’ singing with Sunwoo hyping him up or Joonyoung huddling into the far corner of the playroom due to his fear of loud noises.

You were always there to comfort the poor boy by pressing his ears up against your chest while Changmin occupied the others, hand in hand with Juyeon as they all sang their hearts out into the crappy microphones Changmin had bought. Chanhee and Hyungseo definitely dominated every Sunday with their vocals, and eventually Joonyoung grew comfortable enough to sing with the two.

But even with Joonyoung gone as an excuse, you still remained by the bean bags, watching all of them have fun with a goofy smile adorning your face.

Occasionally Changmin would visit you and bring you up onto your feet, urging you to dance. He once even tried swooning you over by having Romantic Sunday playing in the background, whispering the lyrics into your ear while he tried to get you to sway with him.

Obviously, it didn’t work.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to; you were just too embarrassed to do so.

You’re afraid you’ll pull a Juyeon and trip over your very own feet, so you refrain from moving a limb, only choosing to lean against Changmin’s touch when he brings you into his arms.

Because of this, he would never force you into joining him, even if it was just the two of you.

He would ask only once if you’d like to join him in a small dance, and when you give him the shake of your head, he’ll opt to pull you in for an intoxicating kiss, having your lips dance against his instead.

Hyunjae was always the main witness of the kisses you two shared, visibly cringing by scrunching up the features of his face, but deep down inside he’s happy for the two of you.

How could he not when he has wanted you both together since the very first day? It’s the dream of any kid to have their two favorite people together.

Not to mention Karaoke Sundays isn’t the only new idea that has been introduced the past year; you and Changmin have gotten so used to having Hyunjae around that the three of you would leave the daycare and hang out elsewhere, creating new memories.

Shopping, eating, exploring: the three of you did it all (without the consent of Hyunjae’s mother).

It was kind of like sneaking out, and the three of you would never stray too far from the daycare in case Mrs. Lee comes back early. If she ever called to ask where her son was, you would tell her that you three were on a walk and would come back immediately.

The fun little dates you all shared are the only reason why Changmin has given up on pestering you about talking to Mrs. Lee and her habit of picking up her son later than the designated time.

He taught both you and Hyunjae how to roller skate only for the young boy to skate faster than the teacher, leaving both you and Changmin confused about how Hyunjae managed to learn so quickly.

While your favorite place with Changmin and Hyunjae was the ferris wheel, Changmin’s personal favorite was the field of flowers hidden a mile or two behind the daycare.

You never saw the beauty in flowers after taking care of children for nearly four years, but that completely changed when you watched how Hyunjae and Changmin ran through them. Their sparks of happiness would always change into pure fear whenever catching sight of a bee, running far from you to the point where Hyunjae would start crying at the lack of your presence.

Changmin even got stung once, but he showed no sense of pain when taken back to the daycare, constantly making flirty remarks while you aided him.

Moments like these have always made Changmin think (something you would say he rarely did).

Silly as it is, these dates never prompted Changmin to ask you out. It wasn’t like either of you cared, but it would be nice to put a title on the relationship you both shared.

But rather than wanting to ask you out, the idea of proposing came to his mind.

Two years of being head over heels for you led him to meet every single side of you. You were great with kids, obviously, and he’s been there when you’ve brokedown or lashed out. You were real just like any other human being, and there was no doubt in his mind that he would love to be with you for forever.

He’s definitely joked about marrying you in the past, but he knew it was time.

It was time to finally give you a reason to dance.

NAVIGATION | TBZ MASTERLIST | PART TWO

[s-9in]

twenty four masterlist

the story is set around 200 years ago, on a small island still ruled by their royal family. the island was split into two, thousands of years ago, when the families who ruled had a major fight that ended with them both taking a vow to never speak to each other again. in the modern day, the king and queen of each kingdom decided to set aside their differences and become civil.

pairing choi yeonjun x fem! reader

genre angst, fluff, drama, action, royal au, prince! yeonjun, princess! reader, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage

warning alcohol, violence, weapons, non-human death, blood, injury, cursing, mature conversation, heated scenes, arguing

instalments

twenty four | 1

summary | everything about yeonjun was infuriating to you. the way he assumed he had the right to toss other women aside simply because he was arranged to marry you, the way he didn’t care for the kingdom he was going to one day rule, and most importantly, the way he didn’t love you the way that you loved him.

dragon slayer | 2

summary | as newlyweds, you allowed your relationship to overshadow your responsibilities when it came to the kingdom. and when you’re tasked with restoring peace, once again, the realisation of how hard it would be to rule hit the both of you square in the face.

[s-9in]

THE FIVE PRINCES | A TXT COLLAB.

Five princes. Five kingdoms. Five domains controlled by elemental forces. In the right hands, such power can create beauty and wonder, awe inspiring sights and heart warming adventures. In the wrong hands, such powers can cause fear and desolation, as the search for absolute control over the elements is enough to drive any prince to madness—or beyond.

COLLAB PARTICIPANTS: @bffsoobin @soobmint @gyuluster @juunnies @honeyju

NOTE: Hey everyone! This is the masterlist for my first ever collab project, and I’m so glad that so many lovely and talented writers were willing to join me! We’ll be releasing five oneshots total for this collab over the course of five weeks. Once each oneshot is released, it will be linked here on the masterlist. You can find the update schedule below! We really hope you enjoy this project!

HUENING KAI: THE PRINCE OF AIR

For as long as you could remember, you had been enamored with the sky and all the things it contained. When you find yourself leaving the home you grew up in, you rely more than ever on the growing comfort of the glimmering sky. Finding a home among the clouds you’d always admired seemed far from reality until you met Hueningkai.

Written by Sara | @bffsoobin

KANG TAEHYUN: THE PRINCE OF ICE

The rumors of the Ice Prince, Kang Taehyun, that run throughout the kingdom of Glacies are nothing short of terrifying. Known as a spoiled boy who does nothing but take advantage of the horrors bestowed upon the kingdom by his grandfather, the late king, Taehyun is feared and despised by nearly all of his subjects. When you decide to take matters into your own hands as the kingdom’s greatest thief by plotting to steal the crown that harnesses the prince’s unjustly earned powers, you are surprised to find out that perhaps the Ice Prince is not exactly who everyone fears him to be.

Written by Chae | @soobmint

CHOI BEOMGYU: THE PRINCE OF EARTH

In the Kingdom of Terrae, you, a metalbender, believe in the deforestation to modernise the land. As a member of the Lumberjackals, you thrive on cutting down trees and stealing resources until you get caught by the Crown Prince, Choi Beomgyu, a lover and embodiment of the nature you wish to destroy. However, instead of imprisoning you for your crimes, Beomgyu decides to show you the beauty and wonders of nature, leaving you to doubt your beliefs, your identity, and your very feelings for the certain boy determined to change you for the better.

Written by Fia | @gyuluster

CHOI SOOBIN: THE PRINCE OF WATER

The epitome of all good was found in the heart of your old childhood best friend and the crown prince, Choi Soobin. However, you also knew that corruption ran in the veins of the Water Kingdom’s hierarchy. It was only a matter of time until Soobin would grow up to become the dark, cruel prince he was, ignoring your existence and seeking vengeance on the Kingdom of Ignis.

Chaos was a ladder and its rungs were slick with blood. If you couldn’t save Soobin, he was bound to fall.

Written by Alice | @juunnies

CHOI YEONJUN: THE PRINCE OF FIRE

As the only son to the King and Queen of the Kingdom of Ignis and heir apparent to the throne, Choi Yeonjun had always grown up sheltered from the outside world, consumed by a loneliness that no amount of riches could satisfy. You, on the other hand, grew up in a crowded village in the outskirts of the kingdom, led to the castle by your magic only to be hired as a servant. It wasn’t until you met Yeonjun that you learned of the depths of your power, as well as the immense dangers that came with it, sparking a desire within the prince to protect you by teaching you how to protect yourself. Amidst vengeful attacks upon the kingdom and the realization of just how sublime your abilities were, you began to discover the origins of the force that brought you and Yeonjun together, but the one thing you hadn’t prepared yourself for was just how quickly you’d fall for him.

Coming soon. Written by Addy | @honeyju

[s-9in]

in my renjun feels. this was absolutely, an astonishing written fic far from what i've been reading.

it was great, slow pace of the obvious romance between the mc and renjun and i'm here kicking my feet whenever they stumbled upon each other like... uh renjun is so??? i am so whipped for this.

the trojan horse (hrj)

original gif

↳ pairing: huang renjun x reader

↳ word count: 19.6k

↳ genre: royalty!au, historical (late 1700s)!au, arranged marriage!au, heavy angst, fluff, smut

↳ summary: in which the boy you fall in love with isn’t who you think he is.

↳ warnings: character death, political unrest, violence, nudity, explicit sexual content (oral, penetration, switch!renjun, switch!reader, cum play), may contain historical inaccuracies

↳ a/n: influenced heavily by the events of the french revolution.

1791

Ominously, the large, mahogany doors of the Royal Court open. Two guards tightly grip the arms of a shadow, and as the three slowly approach the center of the room, you realize it is a middle-aged, disheveled, pitiful-looking man who wouldn’t put up much of a fight against the guards anyway.

Across a large table sit the Members of the Royal Court. They include some barons and earls, along with religious leaders. Your father, the King, sits at the center, looking especially royal in his brand-new purple robes, and you sit by his side, your fingers intertwined together neatly.

“Order!” Your father announces loudly to the Court. The barons and lords’ chatters die, and the room is silent. 

“Name?” Asks the King. 

“Kim Donghyun,” the man says. He is practically just skin and bones, and it makes you think about how you’ve never gone a day without having three exquisite meals. 

You guiltily avoid his gaze; he doesn’t notice. His attention is toward the King. Due to the days of sitting in a dungeon in utter darkness waiting for his trial and sentencing, he has to blink a few times to get adjusted to the bright light in the Court. 

“What is your crime?” 

Kim Donghyun takes a deep breath. You observe him intently, and you notice how he is practically quaking in fear at being in front of the King. The only time a peasant like him would ever be graced with the presence of the King is when it is nothing good at all. 

Being tried in front of the Royal Court constitutes as ‘nothing good at all.’  

“Theft,” he says in a small voice. At his fear, the King looks at him in disdain. Kim Donghyun knows that his time is limited, and he won’t die without a shred of dignity.

He raises his voice. “I did it for my family.” 

“Only describe the crime,” the King interjects.

“I work in the farming district. In an apple orchard. Instead of turning over all the apples I collected to the cart that takes it to distribution centers, I kept some hidden in my home.” 

The King turns to look at the rest of the Court and discusses quietly, avoiding your gaze. You’re able to make out some words, such as ‘sin’ and ‘infestation of the poor,’ but you don’t interact. Of course, he ignores you, as if you don’t have an opinion. As the only woman on the Court, you were only there after you convinced (more like begged) your father. Deciding a man’s fate wasn’t apt work for a royal woman, whose responsibilities lie in producing a legitimate, male heir for the Kingdom after your father chooses your husband, who is the next in line to the throne – not you, who is your father’s own flesh blood and has a right to the throne. You told your father that Queen Elizabeth I more almost three hundred years ago took the throne of England and ruled through a golden age, dismantling your father’s claim that women weren’t fit to rule, but your father argued that was why England didn’t have a direct, legitimate heir, and why England fell into turmoil after Queen Elizabeth’s death in 1603.

“There is only one suitable punishment for thieves,” The King says in a sure, kingly voice. You gulp harshly. You knew the next words that would come out of his mouth, after sitting in the Royal Court’s proceedings, which all practically ended the same way, no matter how big or small the offense is. He doles out this punishment like it’s nothing. There used to be other punishments for thieves such as cutting off their hands, but the only places those punishments are described in history books.  

“Death by The Dragon’s Fang!” Your father declares. Through the ornately decorated window, you see the chopping block where executions take place. The Dragon’s Fang, the family sword that has been an important symbol of Justice in your Kingdom, cuts cleanly across the neck of whoever has done the Kingdom of Ambrosia wrong. Sharpened every day by the Executioner, it never gives anything but a decisive end to someone’s life. 

“Please,” the man pleads. The chains around his wrists rattle as he folds his hands together tightly in desperation. The two guards accompanying him hold him even tighter, creating small impressions on his skinny body, but your father gestures for them to let go of Kim Donghyun. He falls to his knees, tears forming at the rims of his eyes. 

You’ve sat through hundreds of proceedings, and every single one of them rips a new hole in your heart.

“I never intended to steal,” he explains. “My family, we’re starving. Starving!” He screams in anguish. The guards come closer to him but do not hold him like they once did; desperate this man is, but not desperate enough to run.

“It’s no excuse,” the King says firmly. 

“I had to do it. Come to the farming district yourself! We’re all suffering before dying of starvation and disease. Reeking dead bodies are everywhere and we have no medicine and no food! How are we supposed to live?”

At his anguished voice, you decide that you’re not going to let this be yet another proceeding that you will watch and do nothing about the result. After all, this is supposed to be your kingdom in the future, not your future husbands, even though it doesn’t seem like that.

“He’s right,” you say. Stunned gasps echo through the room. Not a single member of the Royal Court has second-guessed any of the King’s decisions. But you do not let that affect the firmness in your voice.

“How are the working class supposed to serve us if we cannot give them enough resources to live?” You spin it another way. You don’t truly mean what you say, only giving the situation in this light in order for your father to understand; he only understands when things affect him; the rest of the Court are the same way, almost medically unable to expand their cold, selfish hearts to show a little compassion. 

“If we show mercy to this one man,” your father says patiently, “then others will start doing the same thing. We need to make an example of the misdeeds of this man, to prevent further law-breaking.” Your father knows of your compassion for others, an un-queenly trait that he thinks you will outgrow when you get a little more experience with royal affairs, the only reason why he let you take part in the proceedings of the Royal Court. Being that you’re only a child, twenty years old, you have not the same maturity as a seasoned King. But to you, it’s not just a phase.

Whatever happened to the great leaders of yesteryear who knew when to show compassion and when to rule with an iron fist? Your father’s ruthless punishments are what earned him the title of ‘The Mad King’ by the commoners, according to the King’s spies (aptly called his ‘Ears’) everywhere. It is even rumored that the Resistance, an organization whose goal is to destroy the royal family, is real. After hearing about the American Revolution and the Revolution in France, common people hold out hope for a democracy, where everyone’s voices are heard. The writings of Thomas Paine and John Locke started circulating in the Kingdom of Ambrosia and have stirred up more political unrest than what could be imagined.

Your father afterward made it his mission to find every copy of Common Sense and Two Treatises of Government and burn them, as well as execute anyone with a physical copy of those books. He could not have that sort of insolence from his subjects. However, that did nothing; the words were still in peoples’ minds, spreading to others orally, and who knows how many illegitimate copies there are, the words printed on cloth or in their minds? This made people want to get bootlegged copies even more. If the commoners had enough food on the table and compassionate leaders, then their cries for revolution are quieter. If the Gods chose you to be a ruler, then that means that the Gods see leadership potential in your lineage, and you should follow that.

“I’m not saying to spare Kim Donghyun any punishment,” you explain cooly with your hands in your lap in a lady-like fashion, just as your governess taught you when you were little. “There are other means of punishment which will get the point across.”

“Other means of punishment?” Your father echoes in a tone that makes you feel small. “Stealing is a sin and sins are punishable by death.” 

“Can’t he get a whipping? I’m sure that he learned his lesson. He’s frightened to death and needs to feed his –”

“Quiet, girl!” The King declares. Instantly, you feel your father’s palm connect with your cheek, and a stinging sensation burns your skin. This immediately makes your tear ducts tingle with the need to let hot tears roll down your cheeks, but you will not let the Royal Court see you as a little girl being chastised by her father.

You are a young woman and one that is to be the future queen at that.

At the way you take a painful slap, Kim Donghyun meets your gaze with a resigned, yet thankful look at your efforts. He already knows that in a few short minutes, his blood will be pooling on the floor in the adjacent room.

“The Royal Court here rules that Kim Donghyun is sentenced to death by the Dragon’s Fang.” He bangs the gavel against the table loudly, glancing at you before locking gazes with Kim Donghyun. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t scream. He knew he took a massive risk with those apples. He only wished that he stole more because the look of satisfaction when his wife and children ate was intoxicating. 

The two guards grab Kim Donghyun’s elbows before escorting them out of the Royal Court and into the next room. The window gives a clear view of the large chopping block stained with dry, brown blood where Kim Donghyun is supposed to lean, his knees on the floor, his neck and the edge of the block lining up. Then, the Executioner takes the Dragon’s Fang and raises it above his head. He doesn’t close his eyes at the sight he is about to see, a ritual he has performed thousands of times, only asking the victim for any last words, as you can tell from seeing this proceeding many times. Kim Donghyun says something, but you are not sure what. Then, the Executioner swings the sword, and Kim Donghyun crumbles to the ground in two parts after a sickening crunch (that you’ve heard so many times, it echoes in your head).

You think you’re going to be sick.

-

Just like there were many court proceedings before the trial of Kim Donghyun, there are many afterward. The Resistance is growing larger, according to the King’s Ears, and is ready to plan something large. Normally, your father would not tolerate this insolence against the royal family. He would have liked to nip it in the bud and hang the bodies of all the rebels in front of the streets to make an example out of them, but the King is running into a huge problem: he is close to bankruptcy. He barely has enough resources to pay guards and mercenaries to protect the current palace, as well as cooks and maids and servants. He doesn’t have enough resources to pay for a large army and create a special task force to get rid of the rebels. After spending his money on clothes and shoes, brand new wings of the palace and concubines, he was spending money faster than he was receiving it. 

Obviously, you knew that this was a serious problem, and it was information that select people had access to; Royal advisors were trying their best to make sure that this information was kept under a tight lid and wouldn’t find its way to the Resistance. Royal advisors suggested that the King find a source of needed materials without raising taxes yet again, and that’s where you come to play. Your father arranged for you to meet a suitor to set up a much-needed marriage alliance.

Today, you would be meeting the Prince of Neo, Huang Renjun. Neo is a small kingdom a few days journey from you by the sea, and they are known for their ample craftsman class who commission some of the finest weapons. They are also a source of skilled fighters, and they will be more likely to ship off their people and provide resources to Ambrosia if they have a suitable marriage alliance.

As much as you hated being auctioned off like an antique vase, it was something that couldn’t be helped as a royal woman. You only hope that this Huang Renjun isn’t like the other suitors you have met, who are snooty and stuck up, ruthless as if they are miniature versions of your father. More importantly, you wish that they won’t cast you aside, using you as a pawn to get their hands on the better prize, the Kingdom of Ambrosia, the largest kingdom in the area.

There’s already tension in the air when you are escorted by your mother and lady’s maids into the drawing room where you first lay eyes on Huang Renjun.

His raven-colored hair is neatly gelled and combed, and his skin is pale in contrast. He stands up politely at your presence, and you get a good look at his clothing: rich, exactly what you expect for a royal from another kingdom. He wears red robes with delicate, intricate yellow designs, and you suspect the material is velvet. He has white frills at his neck, and milky white socks that compliment the black shoes at his feet, which have a gold flower at the center of the foot to match the gold designs on his robes. 

You’re thankful that the suitor you’re meeting is actually in the same age range as you, but it’s an additional bonus that he’s one of the most beautiful men you’ve met without even trying.

He is also observing you with the same tenacity as you do with him: You’re wearing a crown of pink flowers on your head, which matches the pink flowers on your sky-blue dress. Your skirt is large and trails at your behind, which shows your royal standing, and the sky-blue sleeves of your dress slowly become white lace as his eyes follow from your shoulders to your wrists. The sleeves of your dress are cone-like, and the edges are able to reach your knees. 

For a few seconds, you meet Renjun’s gaze. His eyes are a beautiful dark brown, and they offer you a friendly look, which puts your heart at slight ease. 

“Princess Y/N, this is Prince Renjun of Neo,” your mother introduces in a voice that makes it seem like she has known Prince Renjun for a long time (which she hasn’t).

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, your Highness,” Renjun says. His voice is absolutely magnificent, song-like, and dreamy. He steps forward and bends down on one knee, taking your right hand and kissing the back of it. 

His lips feel warm against your skin. 

There are a few other men by Renjun’s side. There are his personal guards, who came with him on the carriage ride from his castle to yours, and another man in fine clothing, someone you failed to notice due to your observant study of Huang Renjun. 

“And this is the King of Neo,” your mother continues, gesturing. He bows down and takes the time to bend down and kiss your mother’s hand (which has her bubbling with pleasant words) and your hand, which you give a curt greeting. His black robe shuffles as he steps back, and you study Renjun side-by-side with his father. 

“Pleased to meet you, Your Highnesses,” he says. 

A few maids come in bearing silver trays piled with bite-sized sandwiches, in the shape of a pyramid. You and your mother take one, while Renjun and his father take one each, all four of you being overly courteous to the help in an effort to keep appearances. 

“Your daughter looks like a lovely young lady, perfect for my Renjun,” the King of Neo comments, giving your mother a gracious smile. “So elegant and full of grace, she will make a fine queen and wife, Your Highness,” he addresses your mother. 

“Thank you for your kind words,” Your mother responds back, her eyes crinkling as a part of her practiced genuine smile. “May I escort you to the King? He has some matters that he would like to discuss with you.” 

“Of course, my good lady,” the King of Neo responds back courteously. Your mother leads the way out of the room, and a few maids look like they are going to follow her, to make sure that she is okay, but she only needs to give a flick of her wrist for them to disperse back into the drawing room. Now, you and Renjun are alone, except for the help, but they don’t count. You’re grateful that your mother has left you both alone because you absolutely hate being chaperoned during meets with suitors – it makes you more nervous having that extra company. That just shows how important this alliance is for the Kingdom that your mother understands your weakness and tries to put you on the best possible foot to make a good performance for Huang Renjun.

Performance. The word has the connotation relating it to a game, which is what this whole suitor business is. 

“Please have a seat,” you say to Renjun, gesturing at the plush pink-and-green sofa that he abandoned when you entered the room. There is a small ottoman opposite of the sofa, and there is a glass table in between with the pyramid of sandwiches that the maid brought a few minutes ago. You’re ready to bring up something about the weather and other practiced lines you have prepared for occasions like this when something catches your eye on the table, a leather-bound book. It is a copy of The Oresteia by Aeschylus. You remember reading it back when you were still taught by a governess. 

“Excellent choice,” you start off, gesturing to the volume on the table.

Renjun smiles at you, a pretty sight just as beautiful as his voice. 

“Thank you. You have a wonderful library, larger than the one I have at home,” he says in awe. The library room is in the next room, and it is dark and paneled with fine wood; it would not be a good choice to meet a suitor, for it is a major turn-off if a woman is too well-educated, enough that she would love books more than making an heir for the family.

Personally, the library room is your favorite room in the house.

“You don’t have Oresteia in your library?”

“No,” Renjun says sheepishly. “It’s been on my list of books to read for a long time, but I just haven’t had the chance to get a copy with all the suitors my father forc–” Renjun suddenly stops, realizing who he is talking to. His face turns into a bright beet red, thinking that he has messed up more than he ever thought he could.

Your face doesn’t shrivel with offense the way Renjun thought it would. He met a royal woman once who after he said he didn’t like blueberry scones, escorted him out of her castle. Instead, he is greeted by a smile. You experienced the same feeling.

“It’s okay,” you say lightly. “I wasn’t exactly that happy to meet you too.” You’re glad that your mother isn’t chaperoning, or anyone in your Court is either because hearing those words from your mouth would earn you a slap across your face. ‘A lady isn’t supposed to tell someone what she thinks,’ you can hear your mother’s and governess’ voices ringing in your ears (they practically had the same voice… all high-class women had a high pitch, sultry yet innocent voice). 

Renjun finds your words refreshing; this is the first time he’s met a royal who actually says what she thinks, and that sort of directness is what he craves in someone – he hates having to analyze every little word in a woman’s sentence in order to find out what she truly means.

“How far are you?” You ask. 

“Not very,” Renjun sighs. “I wished you came later so I would have had more time to read.” You titter a little, and Renjun is glad that he is able to see a real, genuine smile from you.

“But Clytemnestra has just killed King Agamemnon and Cassandra.” You nod, remembering yourself all those years ago holding this same volume. You’re trying to think of something to say that will contribute to the conversation when Renjun’s voice becomes lower. 

“Do you think he deserved it?” 

Initially, you’re not sure if you should answer the question. On one hand, you do want to answer the question because you can’t believe that you have a suitor who wants to intelligently discuss literature with you, a complete dream that you can’t believe is happening in real life, but there is another part of you that wants to follow your mother’s advice she gave you a long time ago when it came to meeting suitors: to not let him know too much about your opinions too early. 

“I apologize,” Renjun says hesitantly. He just broke all rules when it comes to meeting suitors. He is also not supposed to ask questions like these. Questions like “what are your favorite sweets?” or “what is your favorite city?” are more appropriate for someone you just met. 

“You don’t have to,” you say more confidently. “I think I understand Clytemnestra’s fury. Imagine finding out that your daughter was sacrificed so that your husband can help his brother get his wife back. There’s a line that has to be drawn between your family and someone else’s family, and Agamemnon failed to do so. Menelaus had other allies from various kingdoms that could help him, and Agamemnon could help in other ways than sacrificing his eldest daughter to Artemis. But Iphigenia only had Agamemnon. She was his daughter. He was supposed to protect her. He wasn’t supposed to auction her off to her death. So he must pay with his life,” you explain rationally.

Renjun is pretty sure that you’re not only talking about Oresteia anymore. And he’s right. Maybe you feel a little like Iphigenia, but the free will that you are sacrificing is for the good of your kingdom and not someone else’s. 

After your father overspent his money, even after charging ridiculously high tax rates and has no means to quell the Resistance by force. 

The way you passionately discussed literature was endearing to Renjun. He didn’t want to be stuck with a bimbo for the rest of his life, who was only interested in parties and pleasure. You have substance. 

The two of you continue to discuss other Ancient Greek literature since much of the literature includes myths that are implicitly referenced in other works that people in those days would have understood. The conversation is entertaining, and you freely give your opinion and Renjun does the same, and you appreciate the candidness more than anything in the world.

“I’m glad for one thing,” you say during the conversation.

Renjun raises an eyebrow. 

“That the Greek Gods don’t meddle in our lives.” 

-

Sometimes, just sitting around in the castle got boring – no, a lot of times, just sitting around in the castle got boring. You didn’t have much of a say in the Royal Court and you didn’t have much of a say in royal decision-making either, so you decided a few years ago that there would be something that you would have control over. 

Every weekend, you went into the cities of your Kingdom and practiced healing with the royal healer. A maximum of four people knew about this, and you wanted to keep it that way because if your family found out about this arrangement, they would serve your head on a platter. But so far, no one unnecessary knew about this. The royal healer, the cart driver, and your head maid were the only people who knew. It was your way to give back to the kingdom since so many were dying of diseases or were injured and lamed forever, and these tragedies could be avoided if there was a better spread of healthcare across the kingdom. 

Your head maid has clothes prepared for you, a maid’s outfit that you go into town wearing. With how the people feel about the royal family now that the Resistance is trying to spread their message, it was better if your deeds went unsaid; you didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention to yourself, or else the people in your care could get hurt.

So here you are, sitting in a prepared cart filled with medicine, along with the royal healer. The hot late-summer sun burns your shoulders as you sit, but you’re glad you’re only wearing a maid’s outfit and not the eight different skirts you have to wear all day as a royal; wearing all that clothing in this heat is the definition of hell on Earth. 

Maybe you’re being dramatic when you say that because when you see the capital city, Ciel, it certainly looks like hell on Earth. A little part of you is glad that you’re safely tucked away in your castle in the countryside because you’re not sure you could ever bear calling what is now Ciel, home. Sick people decorate the well-trodden streets, orphaned children scour waste for food, wails of anguish fill the air as people cry over the dead, and the stench – oh, the stench! How pungent and repelling it is, you almost want to gag. Thankfully, you have a flower from the royal gardens tied to your wrist, and you harshly press the flower against your nose, breathing in the fresh scent.

But the saddest thing on the street is the people who are wholly unaffected by all the events happening. They are residents no doubt, with tattered, stained breeches that have probably never seen a wash, but the resigned look on their faces is what breaks your heart into a thousand more pieces. They accept that this is how life is going to be. These people are usually able to hide among the crowds of people, but to you they stick out like a sore thumb.

Speaking of people, there seems to be less than there was last week. Everything seems a tad quieter, and people don’t seem to be sporting angry, belligerent looks on their faces against the royals, just the resigned, sick, and anguished seem left.

But this doesn’t stop you from setting up shop. With the royal healer Doyoung, you both find an abandoned building – a building that you have kept under a different name using some royal funds you’re able to get out of your father’s hands – and set up medicines, table cloths, bandages, and other tools needed to properly heal the masses. After seeing your appearances, people start coming in. It was an unspoken thing with the people of Ciel, the most poverty-stricken people in your kingdom, living in shanty towns because the capital is where all the work is. It spread around to others that a healer and his assistant would come every week to try to relieve them. They didn’t know anything about the healer or the assistant, or why they only came once a week (many people have requested that you and Doyoung make your presence known more often), but you would simply sigh and shrug your shoulders, that you could only ever manage once a week. In your heart, you knew that your family wouldn’t notice you gone for at least six hours in a day, but if you tried six hours in two days, that’s asking for problems. Although, you never say that. 

However, you and Doyoung have trained others in town who want to heal some basic hygiene and herbs that can be found around Ciel, such as poppy seeds for sleeping and ginseng for preventing inflammation of wounds (but sometimes a cure-all for desperate people). However, due to how populated Ciel is, it’s hard to find even find these plants since medicinal plants need care to grow. They aren’t like dandelions that can grow among the trash and ruin. Which is why you and Doyoung bring a decent stock of other plants from the royal medical gardens and teach others how to store them. But even still, basic training and plant stocks are not enough to keep people alive, and many times, you need a trained medical opinion or experience.

As some patients take rest on the blankets that are scattered in this makeshift hospital, other helpers (practically employees) come in as well. 

The first to come is the brother-sister pair, Soobong and Sooyoung. They were always the most punctual, and they live for healing and helping others – with enough medical training, they were good enough to work at the castle.

“Good, you’re here,” Doyoung says brusquely. “More and more people are coming. Sooyoung, ask patients what their ailments are, and Soobong and Y/N, help me unload the stock.” Doyoung commands confidently. 

Kim Doyoung had been at this for a long time, as you notice through his weathered, experienced face. He’s been doing this before you knew about it, and when you caught him, you told him that you would join him or you would tell the King, and he gladly took the former option. Doyoung himself grew up on the streets of Ciel, orphaned, but he met a man who helped him learn the art of healing, and he became a revered healer in Ciel before going to the castle. As much as he loved being generous, most of the people who came to him had no money but were only able to exchange favors. He gladly accepted favors – fresh honey, a wonderful story, a beautiful flower, but he also liked recieving a salary. 

Still, it doesn’t seem like the streets of Ciel were angry with him for wanting to get paid for his skill; they were only thankful that he was generous enough to continue sharing it with them after all these years.

As Sooyoung socializes with the patients, she is courteous as she asks about their ailments. She can take fifty people’s troubles and tell you every single one – she just has that sort of memory. She would write down all the conditions if she knew how to read or write; only now have you taught her how to count, so that she can refer to each patient as ‘patient at blanket number x’ so it is a more efficient way of describing them.

You and Soobong along with Doyoung are going out to the cart and bringing in jars and wrapped packages of medicinal herbs, from marigold to milk thistle to goldenseal.

When the last of this week’s stock is brought in, Sooyoung approaches you and tells you what conditions people have today. 

“The man at blanket thirty is suffering from diarrhea and his wife is very worried about him,” she reports, ending her interactions with all the patients. All of these conditions you’re too familiar with after years of healing. Diarrhea from eating contaminated meat. Cholera from drinking contaminated water. Itchy skin due to a poor personal hygiene regiment. Infection after a metal bucket scraped skin. Sleeplessness after the violent death of a loved one. All of these conditions, you were able to easily escape due to your high status. And you were the one with the best healthcare in the Kingdom after you rarely did anything. When was the last time you picked up a bucket? Or had itchy skin? You live such a good life that half the time, you didn’t need a healer. 

But these people do. And they don’t have a healer.

You, Soobong, and Doyoung crush some marigold leaves for the man with the infection, valerian for the sleepless woman and others, handing the paste to Sooyoung who would administer the herbs to the patients. Thankfully, as more and more sick people came in, more and more help was arriving, including Na Jaemin. 

He and a few others were bringing injured-looking people. You rushed to their sides, helping them out after abandoning the leaves you were crushing. Before Soobong could do anything, Doyoung ordered him to stay and that you and Jaemin were taking care of whatever needed taking care of.

“What happened?” You gasped, carrying the people to empty blankets. Jaemin follows you, carrying a heavy-looking older man. 

“T-There was a riot,” Jaemin says breathlessly. 

“A riot?” You echo dumbly. Jaemin nods. 

“The Carcel,” he says as if he explained the whole story. At your confusion, though, he continues. 

“There was a storming. Weapons were stolen, and the place was trashed before it started burning.” Your blood runs cold. 

The Carcel has served as a fortress, armory, and political prison for as long as you can remember. Erected by your great-great-grandfather to protect the castle – the old castle that your family used to reside in before picking a different, more luxurious location in the countryside that gave plenty of room to expand; that castle burned in an earlier, angry riot. Now it looked eerie in the capital, and it was moderately reconstructed as an armory and a prison for prisoners that your father decided not to kill on the spot before his killing spree started.

Knowing this information, Ambrosia was teetering closer and closer to ruin. You gulp. You thought that if your father gave more freedoms to the people and modernized, there would be a higher chance that you would still be in power for generations to come, or at least… your lives. Now, that hope is all gone. People are angry, and they won’t stop until the Royal Family is gone for good. You know what that means. The people won’t rest until your heads are hacked off by the Dragon’s Fang.

“A-And these are,” you take a deep breath. “Insurrectionists?” You ask. No matter how much sympathy you had to the people of Ambrosia who have been wronged by the royal family, you still feel a chill crawl down your spine

You wonder how Soobong, Sooyoung, and Jaemin would react if they knew your true identity – or anyone in this room except Doyoung knew.

“Not all of them. Some of them were just caught in the crossfire.” 

“What were you doing there?” You ask accusingly. You bite your lip in shame, hating how transparent you seem. Jaemin looks at you with a brow raised. For all he knew, you were just Y/N, a maid to a nobleman who knew Doyoung as a child on the streets of Ciel.

Immediately, you clear your throat. “It could have been dangerous. Are you hurt anywhere?” You ask with concern, taking his bare forearms in your hand to inspect. You furrow your brows at a fresh-looking mark, but it’s just a smudge of red dirt. 

Jaemin smiles. “No. Clean as I’ll ever be.” He chuckled in a hearty way that put all your worries at rest. He continues. “And I was there because my cousin was there. I didn’t want him doing anything stupid, but he wouldn’t listen to me, so I went to watch him.” His expression hardens. “Where his stupidity took him,” he grunts, pointing to another boy carrying a younger boy, maybe fifteen years old, to a bed, with bleeding on his arms and his leg twisted. 

“Jaemin!” A voice shouts. You and Jaemin whip your heads to see Doyoung, still crushing leaves into paste and squeezing the juice out of roots. “I need some help over here. Y/N, work with Sooyoung to get the ailments of the newcomers.” 

“Yes, Doyoung,” you say and shuffle away. To Doyoung’s perceptive eye, he could see slight cuts on your fingers from all the crushing, and he couldn’t possibly return you home like that. So, he gave you a less taxing job. It was a shame though – you were one of his most skilled apprentices.

Sooyoung takes care of half of the newcomers while you take care of the other half. As you ask them what is ailing them and inspect their injuries, you can already see yourself writing a mental list of needed herbs: marigold, garlic, echinacea, aloe vera, poppy seeds. All of these were anti-inflammatory plants with poppy seeds bringing patients to sleep to help cure their wounds. 

But there is a face, an unmistakable face attached to a body that is sitting on a blanket. Despite the contusions on his face and body, as well as his twisted leg at an odd angle, the boy sitting at blanket number thirty-seven is Huang Renjun, Prince of Neo. 

As shock finds its way to settle into your face, so does suspicion. What was Huang Renjun doing in a rebellion against the King of Ambrosia?

Every part of your royal instincts tells you to tread carefully. If Huang Renjun is an enemy, then it’s best to keep that information to yourself so you can give yourself an advantage.

Before you can decide whether you should pretend you don’t know him or acknowledge his existence, Renjun speaks first. 

“Y/N,” he says softly. You look around. Soobong, Jaemin, Sooyoung, and Doyoung all look preoccupied, and the others that you know are hurriedly applying salves to injured people or offering them edible medicine. You didn’t want to explain how you knew this stranger. 

Renjun, like you, is dressed in a commoner’s clothes. He wears a casual set of commoner’s breeches and a faded, light-blue shirt. He has a brown hat next to him that smells oily and full of sweat, and his jet-black hair is disheveled, compared to when you met him. Renjun has been staying at the castle, and your father and his father are trying to strike a favorable deal when it comes to providing an army to quash the Resistance. During the past two days, from what you can hear behind the door, it is a long deal, with both men throwing numbers and getting others to write a contract of this agreement. Renjun has been sitting in the negotiations, to learn the art of negotiation, but you aren’t allowed to sit in. And when they aren’t negotiating, the three of them go hunting together, for your father to get to know the man that will marry his daughter and take over his kingdom. So, you haven’t seen the boy ever since you talked about Aeschylus and other Greek authors and myths together, only seeing him in passing at dinner, which you are almost always joined by the Huangs. Other invitees at dinner seem interested in this stranger, leaving almost no more time for you to know him.

At this moment, your chemistry is undeniable. 

“What are you doing here?” You blurt out. 

Renjun smiles in pain. “I’m injured obviously. But I could also ask the same for you.” He eyes you in your maid’s outfit. 

“I mean, what were you doing at the Carcel?” You inquire. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You see him reach for something, and you tense up. Your instinct thought it was a knife, a plan to kill the Princess of Ambrosia since he is the only one in this crowded room who knows your true identity. 

The object Renjun was reaching for was his dirty messenger bag, and he struggles to open the latch. You take the bag and look inside. Paints, and a smeared painting of roses. You’re not sure if it’s red paint or blood.

“I was painting at the Square.” He says simply. The town square is still a bustling place, in viewing distance to the Carcel, cobblestoned and filled with a rose garden that is sometimes known as the envy of the land, the only place in Ciel that doesn’t look hopeless thanks to various people in the area who consider those roses a part of Ciel’s character. It’s the only greenspace in the center of Ciel, minus a small wooded place two blocks away where helpers gather poppy seeds and milk thistle. 

“I was painting roses since it was the only time I could get away from everything,” Renjun starts. “But then I heard people screaming and there were people with weapons and then a stampede ensued.” Renjun shivers thinking about what happened in the past thirty minutes, and at this movement, his twisted leg twitches and he bites his lower lip to contain a scream.

You’re about to scurry off and get something for the pain, but Renjun grips your wrist tightly, an uneasy smile on his face. 

“You didn’t tell me what you’re doing here.” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you scoff.

“Enlighten me.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m here as a healer. I come every week with Doyoung.” 

“And I can imagine that it’s not what you’re supposed to be doing?” Renjun asks, knowing what the obvious answer is. 

You don’t answer him. 

“Well, I was here doing what I wasn’t supposed to be doing.” He chuckles. “If my father found out I was painting, he would rip me in half.” Renjun wasn’t lying. The life of a royal was restricting, no matter if you were a man or a woman. For a man, hunting was seen as an appropriate, manly hobby, but painting isn’t.

“Apparently, painting is only for indecent people who ogle naked women and sleep with their muses.” 

You almost want to gasp with how crass Renjun sounded. Renjun only laughs at your shocked expression before sucking in a breath due to his pain. With a wet cloth on a tray nearby, you dab the wounds on his arms, and Renjun’s face contorts at this gesture. 

You hurry back to the shelves of herbs and grab some marigold paste and some thin, bandage cloths. Gently, you apply the salve on Renjun’s wounds and bandage them with a precision that you have been perfecting for a long time. Renjun only focuses on you as he tries to forget about the pain, admiring your expertise. It wasn’t every day that a royal knew a skill that didn’t include commanding others to do tasks for them.

Looking at his awkward leg, you make direct eye contact with Renjun. 

“This is going to hurt a lot,” you say. Rushing to the counter at the front, you grab a stick and give it to Renjun. “Put this in your mouth,” you say in a commanding voice that Renjun doesn’t want to argue with.

Carefully, you hold the side of Renjun’s knee with one hand, and with the other hand, you yank his leg, locking it back into its correct place. 

The twig in Renjun’s mouth snaps during the process. 

“You were right,” Renjun says breathlessly.

“Say,” Renjun says after a while of watching you apply a salve of milk thistle on the cuts on his legs before bandaging them. 

“I won’t tell your father that you were out here healing the poor, not once but weekly with Doyoung unless I get to paint you.” The request is shocking, and you look at Renjun, puzzled for a split second before you make an offer of your own, a smile on your face. If there’s anything a royal is good at, no matter a man or woman, it was negotiating.

“And I won’t tell your father that you were painting unless you come and help out with me here,” you counteroffer. 

“An eye for an eye,” Renjun recalls, remembering how you passionately defended Queen Clytaenmestra for making King Agamemnon to pay for his life after leading his eldest daughter to her death. In this case, one favor each to keep you both doing what you loved doing.

“Yes. This knife cuts both ways,” At how solemn you both sound, you two look each other in the eye to seal the verbal contract that you have just created.

For once, your parents made a good match for you.

-

It’s another few days before you see Renjun again. It’s at dinner, but this time the air of tension, filled with encoded thoughts is gone, and both your father and the King of Neo look jubilant. That can only mean one thing: they both have reached a deal that they are both happy with. It’s surprising, given that at the end of such long deals, one side is unhappy in ‘giving in too much’ while the other believes that they have won a match. 

Nonetheless, dinner is no less than fine. Renjun’s father sits at the end of one table with Renjun at a seat nearby, while your father is seated at the other end of the table, with your mother accompanying you. You sit in between your mother and Renjun, while on the other side, the King’s advisor is facing you directly. Joining you tonight are a couple of earls and marquis who your family has always been particularly close with, enough so to share such an important meal as tonight’s meal. 

“We have some exciting news,” The King of Ambrosia says. You think everyone in the room already knows what the news is due to his expression, but that doesn’t stop him from sharing. 

“King Huang and I have reached a suitable deal. They will provide a sum of armory and mercenaries to help us with our problems with rebels. Just in time after the incident at the Carcel. He has been so agreeable due to the arrangement that Princess Y/N and Prince Renjun have. Our grandchildren will be certainly powerful!” Your father cheers. You smile pleasantly and find Renjun’s face beside you, and he also stares at you with equal fondness. The others in the room are pleased that you two have gotten on well. Although they only know of one meeting between you two, no complaints have been made by either of you against the other. For the two of you, suitors are a touchy subject, and you both have a hard time getting along with others that you are arranged to marry, but this time, it seems like two kindred souls have met. 

Your father’s prayers have been answered; Ambrosia won’t fall to ruin after his overspending. Of course, that doesn’t stop him from having lavish, excessive meals every night while the people of his kingdom are starving. 

King Huang starts speaking. “The King and I have started talking about something to celebrate the upcoming marriage. We have discussed a tourney in Princess Y/N and Prince Renjun’s honor.” 

Your mother claps gleefully, and the King’s advisor looks thoughtful. He hoped that Neo’s resources were in plenty, so he wouldn’t have to impose more taxes. 

Your mother looks at you pointedly for you to make a response, but Renjun speaks first. “On behalf of myself and my betrothed, I thank you both for your generosity.” His voice is crisp, sincere yet formal. He looks at you with a smile. “I’m sure that we both are going to enjoy it.” You both know that if there’s anything that you’d enjoy, it would be a room full of books and paints. 

The servants arrive with plates and plates of food, freshly and expertly cooked by the castle chef. You eat the creamed lobster, poached eggs, meat-stuffed bread, carrot purees, chocolate souffles, and wash it all down with red wine. The table is filled with content eating sounds, the clacking of forks against ornately designed china. 

As the last plate is collected by a kitchen maid, music fills the nearby ballroom. 

“A night like tonight should be celebrated with music!” Your father announces. The dinner party follows him and the King of Neo to the ballroom, where there is a live orchestra filled with the best musicians in Ambrosia. They play waltzing music, so the earls and dukes start dancing with their wives, and their children find people to dance with. 

“May I have this dance?” Renjun is on one knee, his hand held out as he waits for you to accept his invitation. You scoff a little at how ‘noble’ he is acting, compared to the boy painting in secret and stating that he hated meeting suitors. 

“Of course, my betrothed,” you say smoothly, taking the boy’s soft hand. He stands upright, and you look almost eye-level with him. He gingerly puts a hand to your waist and the other clasps your hand as he dances with you. You think that you probably learned to Walz around the same time you learned to walk, and the steps feel familiar as you follow the compound beat. 

“One, two, three, one two three,” Renjun murmurs to himself. If you hadn’t been listening carefully enough, you wouldn’t have heard him count to himself. You only did so when you were a beginner of the walz, counting to make sure that your steps were correctly timed as your dance instructor danced with you. 

You can’t help a giggle bubble up your throat. 

“What’s that?” Renjun asks. 

“What’s what?” You reply, feigning ignorance. 

“I know you heard me.” Renjun confronts you. 

“I’ve never heard anyone our age counting during the Walz.”

“What’s wrong with counting? I like to be precise.” Renjun challenges in that playful way that you can’t get enough of. You exhale. 

“Only children count when they Walz.” 

“Can I make a confession?” Renjun asks. His voice is quiet, and his lips are close to your ear, his breath hot and smelling of spices. At this moment, he looks absolutely ravishing. 

He doesn’t wait for you to reply. “I only learned to Walz last week. Your mother taught me. She thought it was improper that I didn’t know how to dance with a lady.” That did sound like your mother. You take a second to see her dancing with your father in a perfect Walz, from years of hosting and attending events that are similar to this one.

You sigh, bringing your body closer to his and correcting any of his missteps. You loved the way that his body deliciously brushed against yours, and the way that his hand moved down your back, not entirely gentlemanly. You keep your voice quiet, closing some space between your faces. “She knows I don’t care about that.”

“Does she?” Renjun questions. You don’t answer. The royal breed wasn’t exactly the best listeners. There were a lot of ideas that your parents liked to push into your head, such that a woman should be the type devoted to her husband and her life’s work is creating an heir to the throne. And there is one thing for sure: women were supposed to be pure. They didn’t have sexual urges, they were subject to the will of their husbands. 

You’re not going to pretend that thoughts wouldn’t enter your brain as Renjun’s length brushes your leg…  

You and Renjun keep dancing for a few more minutes, but neither of you is really feeling the mood anymore. It’s always a surprise how the upper class can keep dancing and dancing and dancing.

“Does this dance ever end?” Renjun groans. No one seems to hear him, trapped in their own worlds. 

“It does now,” you say. You stop dancing and gently yank Renjun’s arm. Without an eye on either of you, the dull Walz music becomes a distant memory as you both walk into the dark castle corridors. There are a few guards here and there, but you and Renjun walk up the stairs and stop midway through the staircase, on the flat piece of floor that proceeds another swivel staircase. A large window is on the wall, and you can see the moon, a small crescent. 

There’s something so romantic about the dark, something that makes you want to unleash your inner feelings. Huang Renjun is thinking the same thing. 

You can barely see each other’s faces as your lips meld into his. Renjun was different, and you wanted him, you think as you taste his lips from every possible angle, his nose bumping into yours. His hands feel intoxicating as his hands find your waist, his grip deceptively tight as if he never wanted to let go of a woman like you.

At the sound of echoing footsteps, you and Renjun jump away from each other and search for the source of the footsteps. It’s a few guards, and they make brief eye contact with you and then with Renjun. 

You press a quick kiss on Renjun’s lips. It was the perfect time to stop. You haven’t given up your chastity just yet, your dress was still on! Now you would leave him wanting more. It was the strategy your mother gave you when you were meeting suitors, but you can find other ways to keep that statement relevant in your life.

“Until later, my sweet,” you lean in, murmuring those sultry words against his lips. You leave him standing by the large window as you find your way back to your chambers on the other side of the castle, becoming a smaller and smaller shadow in Renjun’s vision.  

-

The next time you would visit the streets of Ciel is sooner than you think, for this week has gone by rather quickly. As per your agreement with Renjun, he would help you out in the makeshift apothecary with Doyoung if you kept his secret that he paints in his spare time. This week, the apothecary is not less active than it was last week since the spread of disease is rampant in these areas, so you’re glad that you’re able to bring some forced labor with you.

Renjun is also dressed in servants’ uniforms, getting it from your lady’s maid, who covertly got this from the washerwoman. However, before you got out of the cart bringing you, Renjun, and Doyoung into the city, you still felt like he had a ‘noble’ look to him. Finding some dirt on the ground, you take a handful and rub it on Renjun’s cheek. 

“There,” you say, admiring your handiwork. “You look more like Y/N the maid’s friend.” Renjun just laughs a hearty, carefree laugh. 

The story behind Renjun was easy to fabricate when you were explaining his presence to Soobong, Sooyoung, and Jaemin. He also worked at the same nobleman’s house that you did but as a server, and he wanted to find out what you were hiding when you disappeared one afternoon every week. You made him swear that he would never tell since you were supposed to be working, and after he promised he wouldn’t tell, you brought him here. Sooyoung looked a little suspicious after you told your story, and you felt like your heart was beating in your throat as you waited for her to say or do anything, that maybe she recognized him from the last week after the storming of the Carcel, but she doesn’t say anything. You were more than relieved. 

She probably didn’t care anyway, given that your group needed more help than you could imagine. More healing apprentices showed up, mixing salves and administering medicines, but most of Ciel has been under strict curfew. After the storming, your father demanded that there be soldiers on the streets, prowling for any rebels, courtesy of the deal made with the King of Neo.

They were given the right to shoot if they even looked dissatisfied with how the people were behaving.

Although you were (somewhat) safely tucked inside the abandoned building that you have been paying to keep as a hospital for the sick of Ciel, you can still feel the tension outside, as if they are waves licking at the windows. People walk stiffly, their eyes darting before they say something, trash litters the ground, hastily-built huts and pieces of wood serve as many peoples’ homes as they inhabit the slums for their work. 

Of course, only when there is dissent are the royals actually thinking of the people of Ciel.

Soldiers stand outside, backs straight, yet some squirm in their thick uniforms under the bright, hot sun. It’s not like they can do anything to an apothecary, so they stand, looking around. The thought of being watched makes you feel almost breathless, and you just hope you don’t look like royalty enough for them to notice. As your heart beats a little faster, you tightly wrap a bonnet you found around your head, focusing your vision only on the sick.

You show Renjun to the table where Doyoung is, and show him how to crush leaves and efficiently save all the healing juice, how to wrap a bandage, how to clean a wound, where to get some water to soak cloths, and where the stores of poppy seeds, milk thistle, and other anti-inflammatory herbs are. Those, you think, are the most important training to learn first. 

Renjun watches as you talk to Sooyoung, the girl who chats with new arrivals and diagnoses their conditions. Then you grab herbs, bandages, and wet cloths and work around the room with the help of Jaemin, who is now administering medicine since Renjun is supposed to be crushing leaves and filling the water bucket.

If you haven’t noticed, life was getting harder at Ciel. Just as you were curing more sick people, more and more people were coming in, needing treatment. Not to mention that not everyone survives treatment; every week, you’re surrounded by death. On top of that, with the current instability in Ciel, Renjun was surprised that you were dead-set on coming with Doyoung because it wasn’t really your job to care. Sure, it wasn’t really Doyoung’s job to care either, but since he grew up in Ciel as an orphan, he always would feel the need to give back to his hometown. But you? You were the child of two royals, who had everything you could ever possibly need in the castle. But that wasn’t enough for you. You had to know that your subjects were okay, and if they weren’t, you wanted to do your part and help even if you have no say in most royal affairs. 

Every day, he has more and more reasons to fall in love with you.

For a while, Renjun admires your work from afar, but he continues to work himself; just being surrounded by such productive people makes him want to be productive as well. 

Finally, he’s able to get a moment alone with you. 

“Why do you even care?” Renjun asks. You both are in a back room alone as you lead him to the borage supply to help cure a family’s fit of coughs. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” You challenge. Renjun voices what he has been thinking while he observed you working yourself to the bone. 

“Because you have everything you need in this life and in the next. What is a reason for doing this other than you’re probably the kindest person I’ve ever met in my whole life?” 

You smile. “You know how our families were picked by God to rule? To conquer?” 

“Of course.” 

“There’s got to be a reason, right?” You question. “To give us such a high position in power over so many people.” 

“He must have seen potential in our families. We need to live up to that.” You say simply. 

“Have you ever told anyone your opinion?” Renjun asks quietly. 

You snort a little before looking at your feet. “Once. To my father.” You turn your head to face Renjun, the smile widening on your face. “That was probably the hardest slap I’ve ever received.” 

Renjun closes the space between you, and his face is so close that your noses are brushing. “Probably not as hard as the whipping I got after getting out of our palanquin to give a homeless man a few crackers in my pocket.”

“I guess we’re two soft-hearted people.” You giggle, finally closing the pesky gap between your lips. You pull away, letting your finger trace his lips. Renjun’s nostrils twitch at this feeling. 

“We’re going to be different rulers when we get the throne, right?” You ask as you study his soft, pink lips that look deliciously kissable. 

“Of course,” Renjun says after a long pause. “If there was a way to tell the people to wait for a little while longer…” Renjun trails off as he presses his forehead against yours. Immediately, he feels the dampness of your skin, how you’re sweating in this hot building, but he doesn’t care.

Renjun thinks he loves you now at this moment more than he ever thought he would even though your appearance is less than exemplary. But because it’s imperfect, it makes you feel more real. 

“We’re going to give people more freedoms, like in other countries. We’ll share our resources better. And we can build schools to educate people and help them learn how to make the right decisions,” Renjun says. The word ‘we’ echoes in your brain. For the rest of your lives, Huang Renjun would be on your team, and together you would try to undo the oppression that your families have facilitated through generations. 

“Would you rather be loved or be feared?” You ask Renjun as you absorb the warmth of his chest. It’s a pleasant sort of heat, not the heat that prikles your skin.

“I hate that question.” Renjun chuckles. 

“Just answer it,” you pout. 

“Fine.” Renjun sighs. “Feared.” You raise an eyebrow curiously.

“Why?” 

“I only want to show love for my people. But I want my people to fear what will happen if they take advantage of me.”

“Interesting take,” you say softly. “You already know my answer. Love. I want to be loved by my people, no matter what.” 

Renjun takes your cheeks into his hands as he stares into your beautiful eyes. 

“Just be careful, my darling,” Renjun says. “You’re so trusting, too trusting for a royal.”

“Isn’t that what you love about me? That I’m different?” You ask playfully, poking his chest with your index finger.

Renjun doesn’t answer, only placing a kiss on your warm cheeks 

You take Renjun’s hands and wrap them around your body so you can be held in his embrace. The future together seemed so sweet, but now, you need to focus on the present. 

“Right, the borage,” you say, pulling away reluctantly.

-

If there was anything that your royal parents would disapprove of, it’s letting a man into a young maid’s bedroom, especially if she is unmarried. 

But you’re not for one with the status quo, and as per the deal, you were going to let Renjun paint you. The only place that wasn’t crawling with servants and event planners trying to organize the tourney celebrating your’s and Renjun’s upcoming wedding that would be held on the royal grounds was your bedroom. 

If there was anything you yourself would disapprove of is not keeping your word. 

You’re sitting on the ottoman by the window of your bedroom, one leg over the other and your hands knit over your knee as you pose for Renjun’s painting. You’re wearing a long turquoise dress, one that doesn’t have a million underskirts. Renjun wanted you to wear a dress that was so undeniably you, and this turquoise gem was it. The soft blues complimented your pacifist nature, and it was incredibly simple too. It is one of those dresses where the top is laced up, creating a ‘v’ on your chest, and underneath, to keep you modest is a white under-dress. The sleeves are conical and long, which is one of your favorite styles. Your parents didn’t like this dress after you requested the seamstress to make it because it looked like something a working-class girl would wear, which after that, was the reason why you weren’t allowed to request dresses anymore and your mother would do that. You were only available at the dress fittings, which bored you beyond end. 

It was just another way for your mother to silence you.

After some ten minutes of Renjun painting, you had a hard time remaining still, and that was when Renjun asked you to focus on something. You thoroughly focused your gaze on him, at his furrowed eyebrows at how he paints, dipping his brush in water, mixing new paints on his wooden palette. It’s as if the rest of the world is drowned out as he paints, and he exists only with you, his canvas, and his brushes. The way his eyes would drink in your appearance to replicate on the canvas made your heart rise to your throat; not so hidden in his eyes is his lust. 

Renjun stops for a few moments. His fingers are at his chin as he looks pensive, looking between the canvas and you. His eyes are glazed, and his lips are pursed when he suddenly says something in a raw voice.

“Take off your clothes.” 

“Excuse me?” You shoot back, stunned. 

“You heard me.” 

You’re not sure what’s happening in your chest, if your heart completely stopped beating or it’s beating so fast that you can’t even tell its keeping you alive.

You’re finally able to regain your composure when you say back wittily, “I guess you’re turning into the kind of painter that ogles naked women and sleeps with their muses.” 

“I guess so,” Renjun smirks. 

Your simple dress slips off your shoulders and falls to the ground when you unclasp the hook resting at the nape of your neck, and the following hooks that went down to your mid back. You’re left in your underdress, and your corset is beneath that. 

“Beautiful,” Renjun murmurs. At the way you stop, reveling in his attention, Renjun chuckles. “Now take it off. All of it.” Renjun says. He watches how you untie your white underdress that is fastened by a thin bow on your waist, and he watches how the string comes undone, and the dress comes to your feet. You untie your corset in the same way and discard it carelessly to the side. 

“I never liked that thing anyway.”

Renjun’s eyes travel down your body, to the way your waist is curved, beautiful with an hourglass shape and a cute paunch. He watches how the nubs of your breasts become hard at the way they are exposed too long, and to a man for the first time. 

You sit back down on the ottoman. You think about re-creating the pose you were doing but think against it. As a caterpillar comes out of its cocoon to become a butterfly, you shed your cocoon of clothes and become this butterfly.

And you love how your nakedness weakens the man in front of you. 

You reposition yourself on the ottoman, the expression on your face playful and carefree as you let your breasts hang on your chest shamelessly, plaching your arm between your narrowly-open legs to cover your womanhood. At the way your shoulder hunches, you create a cleavage on your chest.

It’s as if you’re Medusa, turning him into stone as he not-so-secretly ogles, the strokes of his brush against the canvas more sparse. 

All of a sudden, you leap from the ottoman and saunter to Renjun, who stares up at you from his sitting position. 

“You know you’re supposed to stand when you’re in the presence of royalty. That’s basic manners.” With a coy smile on your face, you swat his shoulder, your breasts jiggling and almost hitting his face. 

“Y-yes Your Highness,” Renjun says, bashfully looking away. He stumbles as he stands, and you can see even through his thick breeches a large erection. You can’t stop yourself from giggling as you grab him. Your bed is barely a meter away from where Renjun is, and you grab his shoulders and push him backwards, forcing him under you on the bed. 

You have both of his wrists in his hand as you animalistically kiss him, your womanhood searching for his manhood underneath his clothes. You can feel his rough stubble from his cheeks after maybe two days of not shaving, and it feels delicious, that you’re being touched, fucked by a real man. Renjun passionately enjoys your kiss, biting and sucking your lips as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues war inside your mouth, sliding against each other in a slobbery way that is normally disgusting, but beautiful if it is done with the right person. You gasp as his tongue reaches further and further down your mouth, almost entering your throat. Your second of shock allows Renjun’s wrists to slip from your grip, and he places them on your naked side, squeezing the softer part of your body, his hands slowly climbing up and down your back until finally, he gives your rump a delicious squeeze. Panting, you finally find his hard dick under his clothes, and you hump him as hard as you can, moving your hips along Renjun’s body, shaking your bed.

“Slower, Your Highness. You don’t want to break the bed,” Renjun chuckles. 

Renjun audibly moans at how you’re riding him, but slowly, the pleasure comes to an end. Renjun opens his eyes (that he didn’t realize was closed) to see you slide off of the bed, reaching from the side to pull off his breeches. 

“You’re reading my mind,” he says. You’re able to pull his thick breeches and pull up his tucked-in shirt to find his cock hidden in his underclothes. You pull it down to Renjun’s mid-thigh, watching with excitement as his cock springs out, large and erected at how much your humping aroused him. You reach out and excite his member some more, moving the delicate skin up and down, squeezing his hard length.

Leaning forward, you decide that it is time to suck, and you wrap your lips around his cock. You move your head up and down his length, your lips following, shielding your teeth from coming in contact with his sensitive skin. Your tongue swirls around his member, creating obscure saliva designs, and you can hear Renjun above you, turning into puddy by the minute as you pleasure him. 

Your mouth starts to fill with seed suddenly, and you gulp it down, tasting the sweet cherry pie that was for desert tonight in his cum. You close your eyes blissfully, and you don’t even realize that Renjun is sitting up. With a strength you didn’t even know he possessed, he pulls you up to his side, and he climbs on top of you. 

He’s ready to take charge. 

Renjun takes your lips into his mouth as he freely moves his hands on you as if he’s never going to touch you again. He hands travel from your cheeks to your jawbone, moving down to your collarbone and then your nice, plush breasts. He spends a few moments there, letting his hands massage the soft flesh, and you can feel moans leave your mouth. After a few moments, he focuses on your nipples, pinching them until you yelp. Then, his hands travel down your body, to your slightly paunchy stomach and your curvy sides. His hands wander to your throbbing womanhood, and his lips wander to the side of your neck. 

You’re overcome with more pleasure than you think is possible. 

“You’re so beautiful, like art.” Renjun murmurs as he pulls away from your neck, starting lovingly at your ruffled hair, at your smooth skin, at your bruising breasts and neck that will surely yield black and purple marks from tonight’s activities. 

You smirk at him. “Then you should be looking, not touching.” 

Renjun’s eyes glow at how you use your wit, how mischievous, how playful yet serious you can be. He’s lucky to consider a woman like you his betrothed. 

“You’re the exception.” 

Once those words slice the air, you feel Renjun’s fingers force themselves inside of you. About to scream, Renjun takes his other hand and places it over your mouth. 

“You don’t want the world to hear how good you’re getting fucked, hmm?” Renjun asks in a soft voice. Your screams remain trapped between your lips and his palm as Renjun forces one, two, four fingers into your womanhood. Your legs are flailing, but Renjun’s position on top of you keeps him steady on your body. 

Everything that comes out of your mouth is just a jumble, but you can hear yourself whimper and moan while saying “please.”

“You’re so well-mannered, Your Highness,” Renjun coos. “Oh, look,” Renjun notices. “Something came,” 

You don’t realize the white-ish, clear-ish liquid that came out from how fucked you were getting until you look down. 

As Renjun leans down for a taste, you suddenly close your legs. Renjun’s hands travel to your upper thighs, his knees on the ground since he hopped out of the bed. 

“Please please let me taste it, Your Highness,” Renjun begs from underneath you. His eyes become larger, rounder, and you realize that the power has shifted to you. For you and for Renjun, you realize that you both don’t fully take control of the bed, but it comes in waves. As Renjun becomes more submissive, you can feel yourself inflate, becoming more dominant. 

“Beg some more,” you command. 

“Please please please,” Renjun says in a string, the word jumbling more and more as he repeats his desire. He nestles his chin between your thighs and looks up at you with wide, innocent-looking eyes. 

It was these same eyes that watch you flail around as he inserted digit after digit of his right hand into your vagina. He’s a lion in sheep’s clothing, and you can already feel the little sheep start to suck the skin of your inner thighs, pressing loud smooches. You watch him graze your legs, his nose becoming covered with a dollop of his own saliva as he uses his mouth to convince you. 

You don’t realize that you’re opening your legs to fully enjoy the pleasure that Renjun is giving you when you feel his head between your thighs, licking your vagina. 

“Mmmhm” Renjun rumbles to himself, enjoying your sex. You can feel loud moans catch in your throat at how skillful his tongue, how sinful this pleasure feels. Renjun moves up your body, to your lower stomach, trailing your skin with your own cum until he finally meets your jawline. He presses more than ten loud smooches to that small piece of your body before surrendering his lips to yours, his mouth tasting like the cherry pie that you ate also that was present in your cum. 

Renjun’s hands still linger by your pussy, taking your cum in his hands. You feel slightly ticklish at what he is tracing along your stomach, and you look down, only to see his name written on your skin in your cum. 

“Mine,” Renjun says possessively, quickly taking your lips into his mouth. You bring Renjun closer to you, crushing him against your body because you want to become one so badly. You tangle your legs with Renjun’s, feeling his bare, naked member rub against your clit. Renjun decides to drive you crazy, rather than relieving you and your throbbing walls with his large dick, he decides to keep rubbing himself against you. 

“Please, please go in, Your Highness,” you address your betrothed, properly. “I need you I need you,” you mumble to yourself. 

“Have you got enough room for a future king?” Renjun asks coyly. 

“Yes, Your Highness. King Renjun,” you reassure him. 

With that, Renjun pounds his length into you, in and out, in and out repeatedly until you start feeling your head spin with delicious pleasure. 

Yet at the same time, you feel adrenaline coursing through your veins. You feel like you could lift a mountain with how much energy Renjun’s dick puts inside of you. Renjun shakes a little, roaming his body along yours so that his penis could explore inside of your walls. You gasp at how good that feels, how your walls squeeze his member, craving for his seed that dried up after you gulped it down like a hungry child.

As your mind wanders, the whole world turning into background noise as Renjun’s dick pounds into you, you whimper at the pain, how Renjun is tearing at your hymen. Yet, you still feel pleasured at the sensation, satisfying Renjun’s manly needs, and your needs for new experiences. 

You look down at your stomach, and maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear you see the outline of Renjun’s penis in your stomach as it roams around. You gasp and whine at how good the feeling is, how rough Renjun’s hands are while he grips your sides, and Renjun pulls out, his member dripping with his seed, arousal that coursed in him due to being inside of you. He pounds his length into you more and more as he looks into your eyes. 

You feel as though you could be trapped in this moment forever, of just you and Renjun panting to a rhythm that only you two know, completely naked as Renjun puts a little more of himself in you, making you both into one person. You think that all your problems being a royal, the daughter of your father, the impending stress of taking your kingdom and enforcing a newer, freer, more modern rule that hasn’t been seen or heard before. Certainly your royal advisors would be against it, only interested in perpetuating the old ways. 

Those problems feel elevated knowing that Renjun is by your side. Fucking your brains out every night. 

Renjun heaves a breath as he finally pulls out of you completly for a second time, lying down next to you. His member is still seeping with cum, and with a mischevious glance, you climb on top of him, your nipples barely touching his chest with how you’re positioned on top of him. You grab his penis, pleasuring it for a little bit before squeezing out more cum from your betrothed. He moans at your touching, and you can feel him shifting his position so he can enjoy you on top of him more. Pulling yourself away slightly, you trace your name onto his skin. 

“Mine,” you say with a cheeky grin, admiring your handiwork under the moonlight that filtered into your bedroom. 

All of the animalistic urges are gone from you two, and you both are panting heavily at the activity of the last hour, staring into each others’ eyes, shocked that you both were capable of such passion. You bring your face a few centimeters away his chest and kiss his heart. Renjun coos at you, gently placing his lips on your jaw. He trails soft kisses along your collarbone until he kissing the soft flesh of your breasts. He sucks on the nubs of your breasts, this time he is the infant, and he places his head between your breasts. 

“I suppose we were overenthusiastic about our jobs, and made a male heir too quickly,” Renjun murmurs between the mounds called your breasts. Your laugh only causes them to jiggle, causing Renjun to laugh too. 

“We’ll find out if we were successful if I skip my period.” 

“The birth date would certainly raise some eyebrows among the Royal Court,” Renjun chuckles. 

“It would, but then I would remind them that their wives are waiting for them at home, waiting for them to finish their work in the castle and nothing else,” you have a cutely evil look on your face, and Renjun picks up what you try to hint. 

There’s silence between you and Renjun. He pulls his face away from your breasts, and your faces are so close, you can feel the shadow of his nose on yours. 

“I love you,” Renjun says quietly. “From our first conversation in the library, I’ve known you’re the one.” Renjun waits in anticipation for your answer. You trace the outline of his face with your index finger. 

“I love you too. I’m glad that if I’m allied with anyone in this cold world, it’s you.” 

Renjun sighs, and your faces slide against each other. Completely naked under the romantic silver moonlight that pools on your’s and Renjun’s flesh, you act as though cuddling with your beloved like this is the most normal thing in the world.  

“I’ll never let you down.” 

-

The day of the tourney has arrived. Your father and Renjun’s have spent the greater part of two months preparing for this tourney, providing your mother the funds to put it together. If there’s anything a royal woman loved is party planning, and a tourney is just in your mother’s wheelhouse. 

All of your noble friends have been invited, dukes and earls, barons and other landlords that your family is on good terms with. They are said to bring their families, that this was one grand party. 

You’re seated with your mother and father, and Renjun is by your side. The King of Neo would be arriving late today, discussing some terms of the agreement he and your father came up with to his weapons suppliers, and he would be joining you later.

Together, your family and Renjun are watching a fencing match between two men, but the stakes are raised higher in this match: the two competitors must fence on horses. Until one man is unhorsed, the match will continue.

You never understood the point of watching two men fight on horses, but it is something you’ve gotten used to attending hundreds of matches with your family. What was the point in all this when the kingdom needs help? 

Sighing, you keep your thoughts to yourself. Renjun is sitting beside you with equal boredom, and you can tell that he probably has the same opinion as you. However, neither of you suggested leaving for some alone time because after all, this whole event was held in your name. Together, you would imitate the cheers of the other dukes and earls sitting with you, agreeing when they would talk about fencing strategy. 

The man in a dark horse and slim, fitting steel armor is Jung Jaehyun, a knight that was trained in Ambrosia. His father was a lower baron, but his status increased the second that his son was accepted into the King’s Guard when you were just a little girl. With his helmet and his clean strokes to his opponent, you’re reminded of the girlish crush you had on him as he ingratiated himself with your father. However, he married the daughter of an earl and had a daughter that was a few years younger than you. 

Normally, a man can be unhorsed by Jung Jaehyun in the matter of minutes, but his opponent is not giving up. The other man is someone you do not recognize after your years of attending tourneys and matches. He must be some new talent if he is able to be on the roster for the tourney and face of Jaehyun for this long. 

From the others around you, this man’s name is Qian Kun, and he’s from a different kingdom (those around you are throwing around more names than you can keep up with). He’s on a white horse, wearing minimal armour and determination on his face. His name is whispered as if he’s a forbidden secret. If one thing’s for sure, he’s keeping the audience interested – even you and Renjun are focused. 

Every thrust that Jaehyun throws, this Kun is able to block it, moving his body with a flexibility that you know for sure Jaehyun has. Jaehyun has brute force, from what you learned watching him, and he’s able to break down his opponents by being relentless. Most don’t have the skill to dodge. 

After multiple dodges and audience gasps, Kun starts attacking in his own right. You think that Jaehyun took the phrase ‘the best defense is offense’ too seriously because he struggles to dodge Kun’s shots. He’s so used to being on the attack that he doesn’t know how to defend himself properly. Being a big fish in Ambrosia make his skill in taking a strong opponent weak. 

It doesn’t take long for Kun to unhorse Jaehyun, and Jaehyun falls unceremoniously to the ground. The umpire calls it a match and races towards Kun, pulling his hand up in the air to signify to the audience that he really won. The audience is in shock before a few people start clapping, and then the rest. Kun gets a standing ovation from you and Renjun, and the others in the tourney follow in suit. 

The winners of matches get to enjoy the fruits of their rigorous training. There’s a cash prize, and for a boy like Kun, who wears homemade-looking armour and has a tan on his face and neck from rough outdoor work, the cash prize is something that can alleviate his and his family’s pain. 

Finally, you see Renjun’s father, the King of Neo, appear after all the hoopla that Qian Kun’s victory was for this torney. Another match would be taking place between two different knights or other sportsmen. 

“What a match you missed!” Your father says to Renjun’s in a light tone. 

There’s something different in the air with the King of Neo. All of a sudden, you feel as though the eyes of the world are around you. While you’re surrounded by a few of the nobles that your family is close with, the others are scattered around, and if you really think about it, the others sitting around you beside them are completely unfamiliar. They are people that Renjun’s father brought from Neo who are allegedly very close to his family, who would want to honor the marriage of their prince with the princess of Ambrosia. 

The King of Neo nods, and then hands grab your father and mother, as well as your family friends. You feel the tight grasp of familiar hands on your forearms, and you look behind you, to see it’s Renjun. 

His gaze isn’t recognizable. He only looks to his father, waiting for his instruction. 

Your father is cursing, spitting, while your mother’s face is drained of all blood as she stares in horror around her. 

“Renjun?” You ask, looking at your betrothed, hoping this was all some sort of game or mistake, but a part deep down in you knows that it’s not either. 

“Where to, father?” Renjun asks, avoiding your gaze. His grip on you becomes tighter. 

“Take them to the cellar.” 

-

You feel almost stupid as the story is unfolded in front of you. Renjun and his father are the Resistance, and their identities have been cloaked well. Ambrosia, as the largest kingdom in the area, was vulnerable, and the people were struggling and starving. All the King of Neo had to do was inject the idea of revolution by distributing literature that cried for revolution, and educate people that life could be better than being a peasant. Declare independence from your ruler, like those in France and America few years before. That worked as a recruiting process, and made his organization stronger. It gave him ears everywhere and a wonderful plan to destroy Ambrosia and take the fertile land for himself.

The information that your family is almost bankrupt passed to the Resistance through maids that were seen and not heard, and Renjun’s father set up a match that your father could not refuse. It was a perfectly crafted offer that would make any normal man suspicious. You guess your father was just despirate to make his money problems go away.

So Renjun came, his father got what he wanted from your father, and now you were trapped in a cell, your castle sieged. Wooing you or no wooing you, your father would have forced you to marry Renjun, but in the time that you’ve been locked up, you concluded that Renjun enjoyed watching you fall for him.

Huang Renjun was one hell of a trojan horse. Always be wary if a deal is too good. And always be wary when someone is just too perfect. 

You’ve never felt so stupid and childish before. Thinking that after the tourney, you would start seeing dressmakers who would taylor your wedding dress. Hire musicians, cooks, cleaners, and waiters. Tasting delicacies that will be present at the wedding meal. You thought that you were going to be with Renjun forever, but you now realize that forever was just a fantasy. 

Instead, you were starving. Compared to the delicious, decadent three meals per day that you were used to seeing, the mysterious mush that gaolers presented you did not sit in your stomach well, and sometimes, your meal times were skipped. You never knew when your next meal came. 

You guess you now understand the life of the poor people of Ciel. 

One day, out of deliriousness and anguish, from the lack of sleep you were getting on the floor of a wine cellar, you threw your hot mush at the guard who opened the door to give you one of your meals. He hit you across the head and you fell over anticlimactically like a rag doll. 

Furious at this insolence, the higher-ups of the Resistance decided to tortue you some more. Forcing your head into a bucket of ice cold water. Ripping open your skirt. Beating you with anything they had on them; once a gaoler beat you with a spoon. You’re chained to the floor as the door opens, and your new gaoler is in front of you. 

It’s none other than Huang Renjun, the same way you met him but different. His hair is combed back, and he wears a warm overcoat, trousers, and long boots. He has a small book in his pocket. It’s Oresteia by Aeschylus. The weather has been getting colder in the few weeks you’ve been trapped under the castle that you’ve always called your home.

Renjun drops the plate in front of you. He can’t even bear to look at you. 

“How are you enjoying Oresteia?” You challenge, venom in your voice. God, what you thought you would do after you saw Renjun on that fateful day at the tourney. You thought you would slap him and kick him and hurt him in the way that you have been hurting in the past few weeks.

Since you’re too weak to do any of that, you settle for some ‘dull’ conversation about a book, a book that brought you two together. How apt. 

“It’s good.” Renjun says simply. He looks away. He doesn’t say anything more than that. Where is that spirit that impressed you when you first met? You wonder if that was a sham. 

Renjun is about to leave when he stops himself. He turns around and faces you. You, out of all people, deserved an explanation. He shuts the thick door of your cell. He doesn’t face you as he clears his throat.

“You know, I didn’t want to do any of that.” He struggles to say any of this, to verbally disagree with his father. His father is the seed he came from. You are not his blood at all. Words made this whole fiasco more real. 

“Really?” You ask, unimpressed. The dark circles under his eyes tell you that he needs your forgiveness so he can sleep at night. 

“It went too far. Why couldn’t he just be happy with what he had?” Renjun grovels, not speaking to you in particular anymore. 

“I want to speak with my father. Or my mother,” you command icily.

Renjun sits down. “They’re dead. Beheaded two days ago.” His voice is dry and cold. “My father went with them.” 

You gulp. This information isn’t that shocking, yet you feel bile rise in your throat. You knew any news of your parents would mean death. They represent everything that the proletarians hated about the upper class. They would be the first to be kill. Yet still, knowing that the people who raised you, the people who you didn’t always agree with, were erased forever from this world makes your heart sink. 

You don’t have any other siblings. You are now truely alone in this world. 

But then the second part of the news sinks in your brain. You raise your brow. Renjun explains. He finally has someone he can process these events with. 

“Once the other members of the Resistance found out that my father only gathered them so that he could take over, they killed him.” He choked. “Knowing that their cause was manufactured so that another king could rule them made him just as bad. I swore my fealty to the new Resistance in exchange for my life. The organization has decided on a new leader today. A man named Bang.” 

“Just a few hours ago, five of your dearest earls were killed. The ones at the tourney. Bang and his cronies are scouring the records of anyone who was friendly with your family.” 

You snort a little. Renjun looks at you, and he knows that he deserved it. 

“Poetic justice, I guess,” you say, speaking about the deceased King of Neo. Renjun shrugged his shoulder. After a silence ensues between the two of you, Renjun gulps in a deep breath. 

“You know, they want to kill you next. Who better than the offspring of the Mad King?” He asks rhetorically. You were prepared for this. It’s not like you were going to be held in a dungeon until the end of time. You were going to have to face the music for your father’s crimes against his people. It felt so unfair, but it couldn’t be helped. 

“I’ve been postponing it. I tried to postpone your parents’ execution too.”

You didn’t even realize that you were holding your breath. 

“Even after all of this, I still care about you.” Renjun says. His voice is small, as if he’s afraid of someone hearing his declaration of love. After all, there is still a guard posted outside these echoey cellar walls.

Who you thought was a sweet, sensitive, artistic man was one who was always under the thumb of someone else, be it his father or this Bang character. 

“You’ll care about me until your new master calls,” you say derisively. 

Renjun pursed his lips. 

“I deserved that. But I want to be better for you.” 

You bite your lower lip. 

“How?” 

Renjun’s lips are close to your ear; you can barely hear the words he’s saying. 

“My men found a network of tunnels down here. One of the rocks on this wall is movable and will open a passage inside. I will give you a map. When you are done reading, eat it up, so there’s no paper trail.

“When I give you a lantern, you know that that is the time. I’ll give you a watch and a slip of paper about the time that there are the least guards watching the outside of this castle. I’ll distract anyone else. All you have to do is run. Got it?” Renjun asks. 

You’re stunned. Immediately, you want to tell him that you’ve got it, but you’re now suspicious. After all, your family’s demise was being too trusting to the wrong people. 

And Renjun has proven that he’s the wrong person. 

“How do I know if I can trust you?” You ask. 

“It’s the only choice you have. If you don’t escape using this plan and try to run off any other way, then you will be caught, tortured, and beheaded. The Resistance is scary business. You want my help. I’m their inside man. And I love you. I still do, even after all of this.”

You sigh. You could be fooled again. But it’s better than rotting in a wine cellar at the mercy of the Resistance, living every day hoping it’s not the day of your beheading. At least running gave you an iota of control that you lacked your whole life, as a royal or as a ragged prisoner.

And there’s something else. His eyes. His eyes were able to fool you once, but there is something truthful to it this time. 

You don’t have to say anything for Renjun to understand your agreement.

-

The lantern comes only a few weeks later. Since Renjun came to you with a plan of escape, you’ve felt more lively, and Renjun notices that as your gaoler for a few weeks. Due to the “good behavior” that Renjun vouched, you were unchained once again in your cell. 

Your first small step towards freedom. 

Renjun is able to slip in a few delicacies that Bang and his cronies are eating upstairs in the dining room that you used to eat your whole life. One day an apple pie, another lamb stew with herbs. While you gobbled down that food – the only food you’re actually able to stomach – he would engage in a brief conversation with you; it was the only social interaction you’ve had since the Resistance took over and placed siege on the castle, yet he would only stay long enough that Bang would not grow suspicious of him. 

Renjun handed you the map only a few days before the true escape, which was when you knew that the biggest moment of your life was coming. He wanted you to learn by heart the tunnels in the castle, enough so that you can reproduce the map in your head, and he didn’t want to give you the map too early in case you forgot. Obediently, you learned the map as best as you can, associating certain turns as if you were walking above ground in the castle that you were raised in. Once you were done, you ate the map, as Renjun said so no evidence would be left behind. 

“180 degrees, vertical” was all he said. You knew what that meant; 6pm. You had no way of keeping time in your little, windowless cell, so Renjun gave you a pocket watch. It wasn’t just any pocket watch, but your fathers that he always kept in his breeches. Overwhelmed with emotion, you dismiss the man who is saving your life, and clutch the pocket watch. 

A few minutes to six, you start palming the stone walls of the cellar, hoping to find the notch that will open a door that is your entrance to the secret passage. Your heart is in your throat as you claw the walls like a despirate animal, until finally you hit the right one. Using the minimal light and the small, hidable lantern that Renjun gave you, you trudge through the secret passage, remembering the map he gave you clearly, each step you take being another “dash” of your path on the map. You successfully navigate until you see a trapdoor. It requires a key for it to open, but you have a beautiful hairpin still in your hair from the day of the tourney. As you wiggle the pin into the lock, you take a deep sigh. This is a side exit that shouldn’t reveal your escape quite immediately. 

Your heart is pounding restlessly as the open air touches your skin. The warm sun and fresh, cool air feel good against your skin, where in the past few weeks, you’ve been entombed in stale air. You gleefully inhale the scent of the garden’s orchids, which is wafting from the garden that is north of your estate. 

You linger a little longer than you should. Renjun didn’t have to say it for you to know that this will be the last time you will see your beloved home ever again. Nothing will ever be the same again. You won’t be a high class woman (not that that mattered much to you anyway), you won’t have your excursions with Doyoung (what happened to him?), you won’t have your exquisite library anymore. 

Your love for Renjun is a distant memory. Today, you will be leaving everything behind. 

Your lingering turns to loitering when you feel a bright flash hit your face. 

“The prisoner!” A guard shouts. He rushes towards you, and you are just quick enough to slip away into the large woods in your estate. You used to play here as a child, and you know the woods like its the back of your hand, and just as Renjun’s map promised, the areas you ran through were sparse of guards. 

You can feel more footsteps thumping the ground as more and more men join the first man that noticed you loitering, and you feel nauseous. You can feel yourself screaming in your head that this is your one last shot, you can’t afford to mess up, and Renjun can’t even help you if you were caught. 

Wading through the creek nearby with your bare feet, you run into a ditch, taking scrap leaves from the ground and covering yourself with the debris. You’re too out of breath to keep running anymore; the gruel has not been doing you any favors. You hide in a nearby ditch, clothing yourself in debris and the shadow.

“Sir, she went through the water,” you hear one man say.

“Then get into it!” Another man said, more likely the head of this security unit. “You all are a bunch of pussies, a little water doesn’t hurt anybody!” 

You hear some reluctant groans as the men trudge through the creek, and you hear the shuffling of various feet at various positions, making it impossible to pinpoint where the noise is truly coming from. 

You’ve never been more terrified in your life. You’re honestly not sure how you’ll react if one of the men on that security team find you. Will you scream? Will you cry? Will your heart break into two pieces knowing what lies in wait for you when you’re sent back to the Resistance? To another, worse cell burrowed deeper into the castle cellar than your previous cell? Tourtue would surely be a staple if you were caught. These are thoughts you want to filter out of your mind, but they seem to be infesting your thoughts. 

“I don’t see her,” you hear one man say. 

“I don’t either,” another man says. You feel slight relief coursing through your veins. 

“What should we do, sir,” one man asks his superior. 

He takes a deep breath. He shuffles through the woods, causing the anxiety and adrenaline to spike in your veins, and he takes a look around once more. 

“Here’s what we will say,” you hear feet shuffling as the men get closer to their commander. “The girl died. She fell down that cliff over there,” he points to the cliff at the distance, the cliff that gives you a view of the Kingdom of Ambrosia. “We don’t mention what really happened here. Understood?” You can imagine that all the men are nodding. 

As you hear the mens’ footsteps receding, you wait for ten minutes before your head peaks from the ditch. The sun has fallen, leaving the world pitch black. 

Quietly, you shed off the debris from your pitiful dress as a snake sheds its skin. 

Now begins your new life. 

-

1802

You think you have seen the sun rise and set almost four thousand times since you escaped from the Resistance’s clutches. You haven’t seen or spoken to Renjun in the past eleven years, and he’s as good as dead. In the end, he righted his wrong, and you are not as bitter as you were when you were thrown into that cellar. 

That night, you traveled tirelessly north from the woods of your estate, going somewhere you didn’t know yet. All you saw were woods and woods and woods. Maybe a racoon or two. Plenty of squirrels. You tried to talk to some, but that didn’t work very well. It was the loneliest period of your life. 

Towns you considered settling in littered the landscape once you crossed Ambrosia’s boarder. Every day, you became a little less fearful that you were being searched for by the Resistance, and eventually, your quest for a new home came to an end after three months of searching. The peaceful little town you would be settling in was called Heaven’s Gate, called because of its high, rocky shores well above sea level. 

From the newspapers, you observed the rise of the Resistance, with more and more bloodshed every day that Bang was in power. Eventually, he was beheaded, and the whole Resistance fell apart. From then, Democracy slowly rebuilt the area. In honor of its roots, the state that is your old home is now the Democratic State of Ambrosia.

The switch into democracy didn’t stop peoples’ fascination with the former royal family that was wiped out. There were public records of the death of your mother and father with images of their bodies and eyewitnesses of their death, but none of you. This lead many scholars to believe that you were still alive somewhere. 

It’s a nicer alternative to the current narrative. 

You smile at the few books and pamphlets you found in your new home’s library detailing the reasons why people think you are alive and where you are now. The common theory is that you boarded a ship to America as a stowaway, living your best life.

It occurred to you that if you walked a little longer, perhaps a few weeks, you could get to the coast and become the stowaway like the stories said and land yourself in America. That would truely be a fresh start. But to leave your homeland? Never.  

The people of Heaven’s Gate were quite unassuming. Nobody asked many questions about your life before Heaven’s Gate. You took on a new identity, and the role as the town’s healer. At the ripe age of thirty-one, you have decided that Heaven’s Gate is your children and that you will repent for the sins of your father against his people. 

You operate your healing out of your home, and thanks to healing a construction worker’s mother, you got an extension for your practice built for practically free. There is an entrance to your office from directly outside, a little waiting room, and an operating room for you to examine the sick. Definetly much better than your travelling medic act in Ciel. 

As you sweep the floors of the operating room, you hear a knock on the door. 

“Come in!” You shout. 

In comes your apprentice Yoona, who has a strange man limping, leaning against her for support, his messenger bag dragging against the dirt. 

“I found him by the creek. He’s already rubbed some marigold paste on his wound, but I wanted to see if you could do anything else with it.” 

When you look at the man, it’s like you’ve seen him before. He’s around your age, wearing shabby, dirt-trodden clothes of someone who has begged for their whole life. He hasn’t looked like he’s showered in days, and he’s thin like a stick, but at the same time, he looks… content? 

Nothing about this man made sense. Beggars didn’t know that marigold stops infections. Where could he have learned that? A friend? He looks like he’s been wandering alone for a long time. 

Deciding not to much further thought into those observations, you notice how Yoona looks at you for a way to proceed. 

“Right,” you say, hoping to hide how taken aback you are. “Any sickness? Headaches, sniffling, coughing?” You ask. 

“None yet,” the man says grimly. “Although that bread looks very nice.” His gaze falls to the bread pan you have in the kitchen next door to your wing, fresh out of the oven. Despite how content this man looks, there’s a glint in his eye that betrays the hunger that gnaws at him, from days of starvation, running off of whatever he could find, most likely berries on the land. The man in front of you doesn’t emanate skill in hunting either, or else he would have a bow and arrow with him.

Out of pity, you take the bread from your kitchen and bring it into your operating room, letting Yoona shoulder the man into your extension. She lays him down on the bed, and nods out. She will be getting the standard items — water from the well, a few blankets, and spare clothes that you kept washed to give to anyone that came to you for medical help — sometimes, just being clean helps cure the illness more than medicine. 

Once she leaves, it’s just you and this stranger. You curiously watch him as he gnaws on the bread, a look of relief in his eyes at not having to forage for this food. Something about this stranger though feels so familiar. But you don’t know how. Any associates of your family were wiped out during the violent period of the Resistance, so no one you love from your old life is left on this Earth. 

Since the man already used your standard cure of marigold leaves, the only thing left for you to do is to rub a fresh coat, wrap a bandage around his wound, and hand him poppy seeds to put him to sleep faster since he has no signs of infection. Sleep is also an excellent cure. 

When you hand him some poppy seeds, the man shakes his head. “I can take that in a little bit. Really I’m fine,” You look into this deep brown eyes, and the feeling of you knowing this man is gnawing at your brain. “Can you hand me my bag?” He asks. You look dubiously at him and to the poppy seeds still in your hands. “I promise I will take them.” 

Knowing that you’re not going to breech this patient’s stubbornness, you grab his bag and place the poppy seeds into a small piece of cloth. The flap on top of the bag is pulled back, revealing a sketchbook and a small canvas. Memories, painful memories haunt your conscience of the boy who fooled you and then saved you. 

Watching the man take his sketchbook, he opens to a page of roses. Immediately, the storming of the Carcel rushes back to you. At the way you’re watching the canvas peak out of the man’s messenger bag, he breaks the silence between you. 

“I can show you what’s inside too.” He says. But you already have an idea what it is. Putting his sketchbook aside, the man pulls out the slightly dusty, smudged canvas. 

It’s you. Naked. That fateful night. 

“Huang Renjun?” You ask, finally able to find your voice. 

The man smiles, confirming his identity. “I was beginning to think I would have to reintroduce myself.” 

You’re completely flabbergasted. “W-What are you doing here?” You ask, your jaw practically dropping to the ground. 

“Getting healed. Remember?” He points to his wounded leg. 

“I know that,” You snort. “What I mean to say is how are you alive? Wouldn’t Bang have had your head since you let me escape? And then the ending of the Resistance. You were extremely high-profile. How did you avoid death all these years?” 

Renjun stares into the distance, recounting his life in the past ten-ish years. “I wasn’t as high-profile as you’d think. I was the Resistance’s painter, painting portraits of high-profile Resistance members. And I was a gaoler. Something about my presence,” Renjun gestures. 

Smiling, you agree. “You do have a power over people. Quite a comforting jailer.”

“I was close to the action, but was never really involved in it. I was more of a servant to Resistance members, if you will. And then the Resistance was overthrown. Any “close” members were taken into an interrogation center. I gave up everything I knew in exchange for a presidential pardon on War Crimes. That lead to the execution of Bang and his lackeys. Their over-the-table chatter led me to know about a little residence they have in Corsica where they went when things got too tough,” Renjun says ruefully.  

You nodded, absorbing every part of this story. 

“And then I heard rumors from old associates from my former kingdom. Neo is now a democracy. And then the papers. That you were alive somewhere. Deep down in my heart, I know you’re a fighter, you’re the strongest person that I know, and I just knew you couldn’t have died somewhere. I would have felt it.” Renjun places a fist against his heart. 

“As I searched for you, I completed this canvas of you with the last of my expensive paints from my time with the Resistance. That’s how I felt so connected to you, so sure you were alive.” Renjun smiles at the painting, letting himself get lost in time. 

He slowly moves his gaze from the painting that provided him condolence and guidance, his eyes glassy. “And here you are in front of me. Living your life. This is the life you always wanted, isn’t it? No royal chaos, no backstabbing and plotting. Just healing.” 

You nod. “I’m happier in this little house in this nowhere town, paid mostly through favors and the peoples’ love of me,” you smile. “I’ve always wanted to be loved.” 

“I remember,” Renjun says. 

Your hand finds Renjun’s. You study the sight. With the dirt caked under Renjun’s fingernails and all the creases in your hands from the mashing and plucking of herbs from questionable places, you can hardly tell that you both experienced a royal life. Genuinely, it feels like it was a lifetime ago. 

“There were times that I wanted to give up finding you, though. This is a big, wide world, and you could be anywhere. The rumors could have been right, and you could be on a boat to America, and I wouldn’t know better. My intuition could only tell me that you’re still alive.

“After seven years of being the Resistance’s little puppet, I was ready to find a purpose in my life again. As cliche as it might sound, my life had meaning when you were in it. Otherwise, I was always working for someone else, whether it was my father or Bong. This was the one thing I wanted to do in my lifetime.

“I had been wandering around for a while, visiting village after village, town after town, never staying too long. I wanted to settle down, but I was also attached to my mission to find you again. So I’d move on. Then your assistant found me. When I walked into this town, and then your house, it screamed of you. After all these years, I was finally sure of something.” 

You’re silent for a long time after this monologue, processing every single word, racking your brain to say something, anything. 

“The period of my life with you was the happiest. I wasn’t meant for the royal life, but having someone who felt the same way felt as though we were meant for each other. And then the Resistance happened. And then you saved me. You corrected one bad deed with one good deed. I don’t miss the old Ambrosia and my old life which is what made me able to forgive you after I escaped. I miss my parents sometimes, though. But if it wasn’t your family and the Resistance, it would have been something else — monarchies are growing out of style.” You chuckle. 

Another silence between you two. You’re out of words to say to each other, enough of the small-talk. Without you realizing, you come closer to Renjun, closer and closer until your chests are pressed together, and you can smell Renjun’s breath. A thin layer of dirt and sweat cover his face, and you take your thumb to brush his cheek, making a visible mark on his face. 

“I never thought I’d be in this moment with you, but the Universe is kind. I love you Y/N.” The fat tears falling from his eyes make tracks along his skin. You feel the stinging sensation of tears developing your eyes. You don’t realize how much you’ve suffered. Townspeople have tried to set you up with their sons, uncles, friends. But you’ve always rejected. At first it’s because you wanted to be a dedicated healer, and it would be difficult to do that with children. But now you know the real reason, and he’s standing in front of you. 

Huang Renjun. He is the reason. Despite all that has happened, despite how he expedited the end of the Kingdom of Ambrosia, you loved him more than you ever realized. Enough that it seems like that love is about to burst. After all these years of being alone, you finally feel complete. 

Grabbing Renjun’s cheeks, you pull him impossibly closer to you, letting your lips land on his and suck his dry, parched lips, but you don’t care. Renjun grabs your waist as he kisses you back.

Your breaths hitting each other’s noses, you finally pull away, your noses touching, as if your bodies can’t bear to be apart any longer.

You were finally going to have your happy ending.

tagging: @peachjaem00 @infnteen @zennymeow-blog @shwizhies

a/n (2): if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! as my longest fic yet, i've spent countless hours on this fic, and i'm glad to publish the final results. i hope you found this fic enjoyable, and let me know what you thought in the comments or in an ask :3

[s-9in]

LOVE VOMIT [n.] — the term when you become too full with your feelings too quickly and too frequently that you end up spitting everything out before even getting the chance to digest. this happens to you more often than you’d like to admit— every quarter, actually, ever since starting college. but what can you do when the prospect of falling in love is just too good to say no to? what can you do when maybe the next desert might actually stay inside your system this time?

or, wherein you fall in love with a different guy every season but fail to notice the one that’s been looking at you the whole year.

PAIRING. choi soobin x female! reader (ft. the rest of txt x reader). GENRE. college! au, orgmate! soobin, strangers to friends to lovers, slice of life, romance, humor, mild angst, comfort (no hurt), SLOWBURN, featuring some members of seventeen, enhypen, and le sserafim. WARNINGS. reader is shorter than soobin, swearing, drinking, kissing, unrequited feelings, annoying org jargon. WORD COUNT. 36k. TAGLIST. @stellz581​ @michipan​ @goldennika​​ @taekwondoes​​ @cerealdreamwriter​​

NOTE. this fic is a five-in-one but it’s obvious endgame is (hint: look at the header). thoroughly enjoyed projecting all my past crushes into my dear tubatu boys haha i hope no one i know personally reads this haha.

some of the scenes were lifted from my own personal experiences HUAHAH have fun guessing which ones are real (but embellished) and made up for the sake of the story 😎. anyhow, this is long. this is slow. but i do hope the payoff at the end is worth watching soobin’s year long suffering when he finally gets the girl 😭 hope to hear your thoughts on this. enjoy!

reposted because tumblr is an ass.

THE TIME IS SPRING. A soft musk in the air, freshly bloomed flowers lining the sidewalks, and the start of a new semester. There’s something gentle about springtime, reminiscent of crisp blankets straight from the dryer with lavender seeping into its cotton folds, and sunlight leaking through pleated sheer curtains. The season is for cherry blossoms and picnic baskets, outings and first loves. You’ve always associated these things with spring, however none of these sensibilities are present tonight.

Keep reading

[s-9in]

TXT LOVE ISLAND. the teaser!

ᯅ̈ synOPSIS : in the latest season of the hit, and controversial love island, five men are pitted against each other to aquire the heart of one damsel, but the catch? they are stuck on the island until one of them gets stuck in love instead. may the best lover win!

%! WARNINGS! this is shot like a mockumentary.... txt! ot5 + fem!reader. ADDITIONAL contains a lot of kpop idols who aren't really idols in this, well some of them. THIS BRILLIANT IDEA HAS BEEN REQUESTED!

KANG DANIEL /the host/ "please welcome our third panelist master key! KIM KI- "

[Kang Daniel's ear piece starts screeching and lets him know that Kibum has fallen over in the green room after finding out the snacks provided for the panelist's snacks aren't organic.]

KANG DANIEL/the host/[currently doing informative motions with his hands to the audio director to not start the trumpets and launch the biodegradable confetti made from fruit loops.]

KANG DANIEL /the host/ [switching on to his professional smile in front of the audience]

KANG DANIEL /the host/ "Before that! Let's enjoy a contemporary dance performance on the dying art of bird watching by our participant number 5, KAI KAMAL HUENING!"

[the screen shows a confused huening kai being ushered on top of the stage with a huge bird cardboard by a crew member before panning the camera to participant number four, Kang Taehyun, visibly side-eyeing the participant on the stage who began his performance by running across the spotlight lit up stage with the cardboard provided.]

+

INTERVIEWER

"you didn't seem too pleased by Mr. Huening's performance."

TAEHYUN

[crosses his legs and shrugs his shoulders]

"my grandmother on her deathbed could have put on a better performance."

COMING SOON.

aN on GOD IT'S COMING SOON!!!!!

©ITGIRLGYU 2023 all feedbacks, and reblogs are appreciated!

PERM TAGLIST / @full-sunnies @wonioml @impureperhaps @1921choi @jisungsdaydreamer

[s-9in]

……… i was drifting away to sleep when i stumbled upon this and now i’m fully awake

HOW IN THE WORLD?!! the words? i aspire to write like you,, a great fic wouldn’t able to describe how good this was. AAAAAAA pls i need a potentially long written fic by you right.at.this.moment

boxer!kang taehyun had me all kneeling on the hard ground floor (bc i am that serious n dramatic), and him ??? in this ?? NO I CANNOT GET OVER WITH YOUR WRITINGS PLS WRITE MORE WTFSJSSJS

TIP TOE ! kang taehyun.

ꪆ୧ boxer! taehyun x fem!reader....ʬʬ synopsis : on a stifling summer day, you ask your friend to teach how to punch, but he might not be the best tutor to go to... WORD COUNT. 1240.

Tip toeing wasn't going to work in Taehyun's favour.

Clementine heat persisted in the afternoon air in the nameless summer of that year; a little cynical, tasting of slight bitter you had found him perched on a wooden bench underneath the cerulean shade of the persimmon tree. His bandaged knuckles supported his chin—your incisive eyes zeroing onto the rubies that embellished the ivory canvas hidden by that book he had been reading, his eyes following the flow of all those foreign words, lost in the universe that belonged in those many pages.

Not for long though.

You had always resembled a storm to Taehyun; mercurial, and merciless. A bittersweet remuneration for all the adventures you had presented him with, awarding him with a joy he had never dared to dream. Like summer, you rushed in with the fury of a thousand suns; a sun-dazed lopsided smile always hanging off your face. Your messy hair, the sweat glimmering like diamonds on your face, and the chip on your teeth—wearing a golden courage on your sleeve, you entice him.

"Teach me how to throw a punch!" You announced with an adolescent alacrity.

Taehyun blinked his eyes in surprise. Your baffling request threw him for a bit before he collected himself and batted his eyelash to get a grip on reality, and assess the situation. Putting his book beside, he rested his chin on his knuckle, silently beseeching you to state the reason, or why you seeked him out specially for this outlandish task.

You shrugged your shoulders—the glimmer in your eyes dimming for a bit before it resurfaced: and he realised you weren't letting this go.

Taehyun stood behind you—a decorous gap between the two of you as he instructed you on how to position yourself properly. Despite the cordial distance between the two of you, Taehyun could rudely feel the sultry heat that radiated off your back through the ridiculously thin layer of cloth you had been donning; your uncoordinated strut as he instructed had not been in his favour either. Those accidental caresses of your back on his chest resembled zaps of electricity that ran through his body every time, and it only got harder, and harder to put on an act as if it had no effect on him.

"Keep your knees bent! " Taehyun hissed, and you followed his instruction, all while maintaining the prior instruction he had drilled inside your head. Your left hand in front of your face to guard it, and your right hand in a fist. Looking at him from the corner of your eyes in a mute attempt to seek his approval. Subtle notions of anxiety etched over your features that only smoothed out with a nod of his head.

Missing the modest smile that slipped through Taehyun's strict instructor demeanour only by a few ill-starred seconds as he wiped his face of any unkempt genial emotions, and focused his keep eyes on your stance, and the elbow that kept jutting out. Taehyun's finger ghosted over the elbow—hesitation dripping from his finger tip as his eyes gazed at the side of your face, you still remained unfazed by the close proximity the two of you shared.

Iridescent pearls made their abode on the softness of your skin. With the sweltering summer heat as their excuse, they touched you so shamelessly. Taehyun's heartbeats picked as did the race between the beads of sweat from your cheek to your jugular; Taehyun's keen eyes followed their movements so meticulously, as did his breathing; It was getting too hard to breath so near you.

"Tuck in your elbow, and assume the right position." Taehyun instructed, stepping backwards to make it seem he was looking over your positions. You nodded enthusiastically and did as he said. One foot above the other, knees get down, and your elbow tucked.

"Now when you punch, you have to use your entire body. The power does not just come from your arm," Taehyun explained, moving in front of you to teach you properly, "but legs, hips and torso. You have to rotate your entire lower body as you swing, like this—"

Taehyun stood beside you, with his right hand near his chin to guard his face, and his left hand in a fist; he turned around to make sure you were listening to him but he had not expect to come across the look on your face—beaming enthusiasm tucked beneath your apple of the cheeks, as they blushed underneath the rays of sun and those sparkles of stars abandoned in your eyes—causing Taehyun fumble with his own thoughts; taken aback by the mirthy radiance.

Taehyun gulped down, and blamed it on the heatwave, and continued his explaining, assuming his position once again, "You have to keep this elbow slightly bent—" He demonstrated with his lead hand, which happened to his left hand, "and your wrist has to be straight."

You nodded, copying his movements with Taehyun watching over you as if he is going to be your coach in the Olympics. Only when he had been satisfied by your wrist, after calling it a limp wrist a few times, he moved onto the next part.

"Rotate your arms as you extend-" Taehyun studied as you did the same as him with his hawk-like eyes, "And when you punch, your fist has to have the palm facing down." He languidly adhered to his own instruction, before turning his focus onto you as copied his action, albeit clumsily. With his hands on his hips, he told you to the sequence once again, but while exerting the force with your lower body instead of the arm.

"You look like a flailing duckling, come on with more power!" Taehyun yelled once more from his seat atop of the bench. His teeth breaking through the soft surface of the peach he had gotten from god knows where, as he 'encouraged' you to do better. Despite the sweet taste dancing on the top of his tongue, the words laced in the syrup that tumbled down his lips felt acrid to you.

"I'M TIRED!" You whined, throwing one more punch with your right hand before matching towards Taehyun and snatching his half eaten peach away from him. Biting near the place he had bitten into without an inch of doubt delaying you—you had tangled your fingertips into the string of his hearts, pulling onto it with such ease, and causing him such an unnecessary dilemma. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he jumped down—further closing in the gap that you were the first one to walk into.

"Didn't know I had such a loser for a student." He enunciated each word with the intention to dig into your ego, bruising it much like your pale fingertips were burrowing onto the softness of the peach you had hijacked from him. If you were going to get under his skin, he had every right to get under yours.

Donning a smug smile on his succulent lips, he took back battered fruit from your hands before sinking his teeth right into where you had been, Peering into the incensed allure that marred your juvenile splendour, the heart strings tugging once again when he noticed how cutely your furrowed brows shook as you tried to control yourself from jumping on him and giving him a taste of your fury.

If tip-toeing wasn't going to work in Taehyun's favour, why should he persist?

©ITGIRLGYU 2023,, feedbacks and reblogs with thoughts are greatly appreciated!

PERM' TAGLIST / @full-sunnies @1921choi @impureperhaps @wonioml @minhosdaydreamer @ox1-lovesick

[s-9in]

COMBUSTING ALL SORT PART OF MY SELF !! letting jake being the most spiderman-coded ever with his fellow australian accent made me all kicking my feet,, and him waiting for months to finally able to do the upside-down kisses are so adorable? so much clear vision of characters between jay and (villian/venom) heeseung, and hello? the epilogue? are we getting venom park sunghoon in his defeated venom suit?

i’ll save you (again)

❝ held hostage again? y/n, at this point, maybe you should just write ‘live bait’ across your forehead. ❞

PAIRING ▸ jake sim x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, angst, enemies to lovers, spider-man au, college au, journalist au, action, hurt/comfort

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, making out, depictions of violence, lee heeseung as venom, that one cute upside-down kiss, a few more kisses after that, playful banter, mc is failing chemistry (this is a plot point i swear) 

SUMMARY ▸ you’re one of new york city’s most well-known news reporters despite only being an intern; unfortunately, that’s a result of being constantly kidnapped and held hostage by an infamous supervillain. lucky for you, spider-man!jake is always at your rescue. what you don’t know, however, is that jake is also your very annoying coworker who can’t seem to leave you alone.

WORD COUNT ▸ 14,120 words

PLAYLIST ▸ i’m ready by jaden • jopping by superm • sunflower by post malone, swae lee • i think by tyler, the creator • invincible by aminé • 777 by joji • industry baby by lil nas x, jack harlow • stay alive by jungkook (prod. suga) (♡)

TAG LIST ▸ @mmsriza​ @fiantomartell​ @iconjaeyun​ @maknaechu​  @13isacoolnumber​ @from-xero​ @yangrden​ @acciomylove​ @sakuracoffe​ @nyujjan​ @honeyju​ @goldenhypen​ @bbanggami​ @lvsunq​ @msxflower​ @baekhyunstruly​ @mykalon​ @heelariously​ @hobistigma​ @simplyxlea​ @wntrsgf​ @person-standing​ @ja4hyvn​ @choibinn3 @bat-shark-repellant @fairyjjuniee @shmooooo @cheonsacheol @jaylaxies @dnyamight @danyxthirstae01 @notmangojuice @rae-blogging @ryuflix @lazycursedchild @killyoselff @luv3iza @stressed-but-still-a-kpop-blog @hotgirlsunoo @luvrjn @heysukecore​ @miedei​ @aeonghaseyo @90sni-ki @itsapapisongo​ @euphorecore​

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! some references + allusions to the spider-man movies in here <3 also, note that tycoon is a made-up villain but venom is in this !! thank you so much for checking out this fic! i hope you enjoy !! ♡ 

IF YOU KNEW YOU WERE GOING TO GET KIDNAPPED AGAIN, YOU WOULD HAVE AT LEAST PACKED SNACKS.

“Mr. Supervillain,” you complained, “do you really have to hang me upside down over the edge of a skyscraper?”

This was about your sixth or seventh time getting abducted, and you were starting to get sick of it.

Said supervillain, infamously known as Tycoon, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. The man had absolutely no interest in you, only using you as bait for luring in Spider-Man. You couldn’t understand his obsession with the superhero. It wasn’t like he got any satisfaction out of it considering Spider-Man kicked his ass every single time.

Keep reading

[s-9in]

so lissie,, i am once again the person of this particular fic (all of your fics combined in general) and living as in the person of it.

this was actually a read by the time it was released but i’ve never gotten the time to post about it entirely as it took me few business days to recollect myself and think again. yk at this point i might just letting this account as one of your biggest fan of all your works, because that is the only thing i could’ve done to show how effective and good your stories are.

so first of all, isobel?

soobin? in this? greatest present someone could’ve give to me. from the beginning of the story plot, i am already hooked around the neck. i’ve always let myself to spare for thoughts and open discussions about peter pan from internet based and mainly few fairytale(s) itself. and fully knowing the truth that holds within the peter pan, for all the manipulative things and wishes (which had been widely use in this, so i am little to no surprise and happy you hadn’t thought to change even the slightest) and an innocence character to that matter! pls lissie give me your brain..

all of the resemblance of the characters for the reincarnation part, brilliantly written, cute accuracy for each of them. soobin’s character as pan, the most descriptive amounts of what actually pan is to the public eyes. the plants, the island, neverland, the gasp i let out as i read the twist (though i can actually see it’s coming) and every little detail i could spend hours to discuss.

you’re just out of this world and your unending talents? nothing more i would’ve like to say.

9.5/10 for the pace, story plot, soobin, dark fantasy but 10/10 for you ;)

cast: soobin ✗ fem.reader (ft. le sserafim's chaewon, billie's suhyeon, nct's jaemin, treasure's jihoon, txt, and other idols)

synopsis: a story of you, a girl from the forest, and the crowd you meet as you move to the city. all of them pique your curiosity, but one stood out the most. a blond boy who you’ve never met, but it’s as if you’ve known him all along. in between the familiar and the unknown you have entered, the said boy will do anything to keep you alive and by his side; for now and forevermore.

genre: magical realism, psychological thriller, slice of life, slow burn, reincarnation au, angst, a tiny bit of fluff, mature content (obsessive behavior, corruption of innocence, drug(s) consumption, explicit smut)

based on: music björk's "isobel" (1995) (genre: art pop) and literature peter pan

word count: 43344 (43.3k) (wow!)

warning(s): deaths (this is a reincarnation au), amnesia, disassociation, reality warping, recreational drugs consumed and mentioned (cigarette, alcohol, cannabis), blood, gore, murders, insects (specifically butterflies and moths), morally gray characters, toxic relationship, obsessive and possessive behaviors, stockholm syndrome, mention of missing person incident, mention of parental abuse and neglect, explicit sex, unprotected sex (safety first!), oral job (f & m receiving), handjob (f & m receiving), marking, manhandling, creampie (if there is something that i forgot, let me know!)

message from the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

it was the end of january 2023 when lissie was on her way home from her relative’s house, her parents in the passenger seat as she drives out of the residential area. the radio was playing a fm that specifically plays 80s and 90s music. a song came on. she didn’t recognize it but she knew she heard it before—a style of an artist so unique embedded in her memory. “this is definitely a björk song” she states, her mom sitting shotgun replied, “of course it is.” the song stayed in her mind until she came home, still obsessed with the newest txt comeback, especially the daydream concept photos, the peter pan-esque story, and the track “farewell neverland”. that was the spark that created this brainchild, an ambitious one, and much more abstract than ashen.

after about 4 months in the making, it is here! i struggle with writing this story because there is no clear path beginning, middle, and end when i was writing it + college is hectic. but i’m proud of how it becomes! this is also part of my milestone open collab "discover: 200" which you can check out! hope you enjoy :D p.s. (y/f/n) = your full name

soundtrack / moodboard

there is a glimmer of light in the darkness.

slowly.

slowly.

it’s falling away from your embrace.

“don’t leave me.“ a voice calls. a voice that you’ve never heard. but it’s like you’ve known it ever since the start of what you are.

“i’ll find you.“ the voice faded past as fast as the blowing wind.

the light became a speck before being enveloped in the vast nothingness.

-

the stumbling of the floor comes to a slow and fading halt. the scenery behind the vertical glass stops. the people inside the small space stand up and grab their stuff from shelves hanging from the ceiling. any time they take a step, the floor sways. they’re heading the same way: to the exit.

a suitcase landed on the platform of the train station before its handle is being pulled up and dragged the weight above and underneath it. the suitcase moves along with its owner, weaving through the legs of the passengers that arrived at their destination. wheels trailing along the concrete floor where people have stepped on, the owner heaves in the noonday. the suitcase sat on the pavement as its owner tried to text the taxi driver they ordered from an app. multiple cars passed by before one arrives in front of the owner, their suitcase, a hand-carried bag on top of it, another one slung on their shoulder, and a backpack on their back.

one taxi stops nearby. a man steps out from the driver’s seat before looking at the pieces of luggage. the owner reads the taxi’s plate number, the same one from the order on their app.

“miss (y/n)?” he said a name.

“yes, i am,” you answered.

the man helps to put your luggage into the boot of the car, leaving you with your backpack as you enter the backseat. stickers and other paraphernalia greets you as it’s the first time you ride a taxi. the seat you’re sitting on is much softer than the one the train has, not believing it has only been hours since you left.

the solemn atmosphere makes you look at the concrete towers around you much more calmly, admiring the walls of it that are made of tinted glass. the sun’s reflection is on the layered surface of the towers as the vehicle moves. rumbles coming from cars, vans, and motorcycles along the road muffled by the thick body of the taxi. eyes never fail to widen when seeing colorful moving pictures on a large screen—advertising a product you’ve never tried.

“first time here?” the taxi driver says. you glance at the rear-view mirror, his smiling eyes meeting you underneath his salt-and-pepper hair.

“yes. i’m moving here,” you answered.

“well, good luck, young lady. moving to a city is hard.” the driver added a small comment, making you nod.

your head looks behind you to the road you are passing; recalling the land vehicles you rode to be here. the station you departed from and the house you left to go here. the house that another tenant has bought at the price that was offered, well, at what your grandma had offered to be sold in the will she gave to you.

none of your parents was there when you were little—your father left and your mother died in childbirth—your maternal grandmother took you in as there is no other living relative. yet, even with decades between both of you, she still has the energy to care for you. you recalled one time when she mentioned how you resembled her daughter back when she was young, telling you stories of your mother’s shenanigans back when she was your age and older.

“it’s as if her presence is in you.“

“i’m raising my daughter again through you.”

every time she says those words, you see her eyes glisten under the light before she holds them back and swallows them.

your grandma was always a green thumb. having a house near the crowded trees lets her have her own backyard—a gift from her husband when searching for land to build a house on. when you went home from school, you always found her in the backyard garden, watering the flowers and vegetables she grew or having tea by the terrace. your curiosity led you to see her doing her activities in the garden: cleaning weeds, putting manure for the nutrients and even letting you put seeds in the soil when you were just a wee little human—helping her plant another patch in the bed of dirt.

“you should always be grateful for nature, darling.“ you recall what she said, seeing the ends of her clothes covered in the dirt she didn’t bother to clean. “without it, our species might not even survive.“

your distinct memories of her landed when you catch grandma humming and singing in the garden as she cared for her plants. they danced, moving their stalks in rhythm with how she vocalised each note. she turns around to see you, letting out a small smile—as if they told her you’re there. she taught you the same thing and more when she realized you could do the same, seeing a sprout moving along with you as you dance around it on the emerald grass, its leaves waving in your direction following your jumbled hands.

the backdrop of the forest is always there when you help your grandma with her garden, doing the heavier labor as she picks out the seed and nurtures the plants in whatever she tries to make them happy and grow. the rustling sound of leaves by the breeze makes you lift your head, letting the moving air grazes your face. grandma has always taught you that the forests have something in them she connected with, a communion of fairies, magical animals, a pack of boys living in the woods who stayed together because they were ‘lost’—led by one of them. those were the connection she made while she read the fairytale books to you, making it as if it happens in real life. but the story of that lost boys always stuck with you as she reminded you that you might meet them someday.

“they’re nice boys, (y/n). all of them have sacrificed something to live in the forest. magic and perseverance help them continue living their lives. i can see you being friends with them.”

shivers will run down people’s spines if someone tells them there are things inside the forest where their house sits near, but you always think that it means new friends, new and interesting people to meet because you don’t have many friends—chastise from your lack of parents and social skills. the only friend you have is your grandma, but you always have an inkling that the lost boys your grandma told you are your friends, especially the leader that she called pan.

you and your grandma lived your lives in harmony before her old age gets to her health. while you were there beside her, sobbing your eyes out, you remember what she said that night.

“you will call mr. jung, the mail carrier who helps us send the flowers and vegetables we sell, and tell him to come here. he will help you with who to call and your next steps.“ you looked at the wrinkled skin on your grandma’s hand, holding yours in it with your warmth transferring to her slowly cooling touch.

“i, i don’t know what to do, grandma.“ you sobbed.

“you don’t need to worry. mr. jung will help you on how to be an adult, (y/n) my darling. i’m satisfied with my life and i’m glad you’re my granddaughter. i apologize if i’m not the best parent in your life, making you live this lifestyle with me…“ you don’t find a sorrowful person on her deathbed. instead, you catch a glowing smile on her face, a woman satisfied with her life.

“promise me, (y/n).“ you see her lift your hand onto her stomach.

“i promise, grandma.“ her hand lets go of yours before cupping your cheek, the warmth from her palm dissipating more and more.

“spread your butterfly wings and don’t stay here, darling.” your eyes widen at her words.

“live your life somewhere in the city and make her dream a reality. sell this house, sell the furniture in it so you have enough extra money along with your will. mr. jung will help you how to take care of it. your mother, your grandpa, and i will follow and guide you from the skies.“

you couldn’t rebut what she said. but you can only nod your head, letting her thumb brush away the fallen droplets from your eyes. your breathing is shaking as you felt the weight of your responsibility and your promise to her on your shoulders.

the dream of living in the city has always been a dream of your mother’s ever since she was together with your father—grandma relayed. but when he left, her footing crumbled as she tried to survive so the baby inside her live to see the world. your grandma told you the story the day of your graduation, but you didn’t take it in you that you will have to do it. even if you could, you’ll always want someone near and dear to you by your side.

“i- i promise. i’ll do that.“ you continue nodding your head as you stand up to call the man with your phone. hand trembles as you turn around to focus on the call, letting her close her eyes. the air seemed heavier as you talked to mr. jung, telling him to come to your home. your figure turns around when the heavy air lifted away, something reminds you to lift your shoulders and chest—a reminder to be confident. your grandma sleeps on the bed peacefully. stepping towards her figure and holding her wrist, you find no pulse as you let go of her for the last time.

the will she gave you read the same thing: “go to the city and live your life there.“ and you do just that. you learned lessons upon lessons about how to be an adult with mr. jung, who your grandma considers a partner that helps her with her business—a long-time friend of your family as his mother is friends with your grandma. he was the last person you recognized as you enter the station, hugging him tight as you left him, a streak of tears trailing down his cheek as the last person of your family left your little village.

“here is your apartment.” your landlady opens the door as you enter the open space, daylight coming in from the windows and balcony. boxes upon boxes litter one side of a wall of the living room, tracing the sticker with your fingers to recognize a few of them to be from your old home address.

with the will she gave you, you can afford a one-room apartment near a college campus. you liked how your bedroom splits from the living area as you want to divide your privacy if you ever have someone visit you here. she shows you the pieces of furniture she received from your orders based on recommendations by mr. jung—considering the size of the room and the look you want it to be with his and the landlady’s consultations. she is a sweet lady from the conversations you had with her on call or chat. and she can’t help but sympathize with your situation when you told her why you move here, making her help with your moving and even buying decorations for your first apartment.

“i didn’t unpack what you order or send here so that you can arrange it yourself.” the landlady spoke as you entered the bedroom. it is as spacious as you thought from the picture she gave you. a mattress rested on the floor with unassembled frames of a bed near it right by where the bathroom is supposed to be. you dropped your pieces of luggage right in front of a covered oval mirror leaning beside the wardrobe. a small smile emerges with your eyes marvelling at the unit back and forth, making the landlady giggle with joy. you walked to the living area when she holds your hand and give you a note on how to reset the keypad lock for the front door.

“take care of the apartment like how you want to take care of yourself. rent is due at the end of the month. and if you have settled, you can come to my apartment for dinner. my treat.” she said as you both walk to the front door.

“i, thank you so much,” you spoke in disbelief.

“you’re very welcome, (y/n). i hope you enjoy your stay here.” the landlady said as she waves you goodbye and left to go to the lift. your eyes scan the other five doors in the hallway of your floor before following the instructions to reset the code to your home on your own. she mentioned how all the tenants living on this floor are also young adults like you when she brought you here.

hearing the clicking of the closing door, you turn around to gaze at the space that you can call your home. one thing, in particular, catches your eye; the only thing on the balcony. the same little sprout who danced with you is now in a clay pot, white petals tilted towards the soil as if a dark cloud is resting above it. as you walk closer, it notices your presence—letting you see it straighten its stems with a little wiggle signalling to you “i’m okay!“ from the journey it went through as you shipped it here along with your other belongings.

after picking up the swiss army pocket knife from your backpack—a gift mr. jung gave before you part ways—you open the boxes one by one. pulling out the little racks that you’ve bought online but also the items you’ve shipped from back home. specks of dust are flying everywhere and even making you sneeze as you note to wipe the items one by one with a washcloth. you open a box full of story books grandma used to tell you as you put them on your dining table, fairytales that you’ve remembered from every cover of the books before the word “pan“ meets your eyesight.

you gaze at the cover as the memories are coming back to you. how you remember to look towards your forest in your black outfit, coming back from your grandma’s funeral as you sat on the back porch—the floras she took care of are wilting without her presence. a mix of determination and fear mixed into your head as you say goodbye to the boys that come into your dreams and imagination, specifically pan.

a bell ring startles you.

you glimpse towards the door before going to the small monitor that the landlady showed you, putting your pocket knife on the table. you didn’t expect her to come back faster as she seems to be busy with other errands. but when you see the grainy footage from the front door camera, you were startled at seeing people around your age. five people, to be exact.

are they the neighbors she mentioned who lived in the other five rooms?

you thought about it as you walked to the door and unlock it, letting a small crack enough for you to gaze at the five figures.

“hello, neighbor!” one girl said. she has a short hairstyle with the inner layer bleached—a black tank top decorating her figure. your eyes widen as you let the door ajar, glancing at them one by one. beside her is another girl with her long black hair straight down, and three guys with variations of hair colors. one of them stood out, having blond hair and taller stature than the other two.

“h-hi…” you stammered as the other girl lets out a small laugh.

“the landlady told us that there’ll be a new neighbor moving in on our floor a few days back, so we prepared a welcoming gift for you. she mentioned that you’re our age so i guess it’s proper for us to welcome you here since all of us are college students and buddies.” the other girl said, holding a cake that is sliced so you can see the colorful flecks inside it, as one boy who wears a red bomber jacket nod at you.

“well, thank you. i didn’t expect any welcoming gift. you can put the plate on my dining table.” your words reached their ears, leaning away as you let the people come into your messy apartment. you block the mess from their view with your body, making them stand on their own shoes after pulling them off by the door.

“i just arrived here an hour ago. so, i’m really sorry for the mess.”

“nah, don’t worry. i relate to you so much right now.” another boy said. you give a glimpse to identify the boy as the one with the green oversized t-shirt, colorful tattoos scattered on their forearms.

“crap, we haven’t introduced ourselves.” the boy in the red jacket as all of them line up.

“i’m jihoon.” the boy said before nudging the girl beside her.

“my name is suhyeon and the other one is chaewon.” the girl with long black hair continued before nudging the short-haired girl.

“i’m jaemin and this is…” the boy with the green t-shirt said to the blond one.

“i’m soobin.” he lets out a small smile before looking away. the intimidating aura coming from him makes you cower before you regain your courage and take in everybody.

“nice to meet you, everyone. i’m (y/n),” you speak as they all look towards you, even soobin turns his head back when you said your name. the other four seem to nod their heads at each other before shifting their focus to you.

“you know what? we can help you, (y/n).” jihoon spoke as he stray from his group, moving to the makeshift path you made from the floor that is full of bubble wrap by its side.

“i guess-“

“i agree. more workforce to help you around doesn’t feel wrong, isn’t it?” jaemin continues what jihoon is thinking as both boys let out a small smirk at each other.

“then after this, we can chat about you and us too, if you want. introducing one another.” suhyeon answered as you turn your body to find the four already scrambling the living room full of boxes and plastic-covered furniture, other than soobin who is standing with an unreadable expression.

“okay, but- wait.”

“guys…” you heard a booming voice beside you as you turned toward the source. soobin has his forearms on his back as he stares at the others, all of them facing him—including you discreetly.

“chaewon and suhyeon can help in (y/n)’s bedroom. jihoon, jaemin, and i can help here. i’m also guessing that you haven’t made your bed frame?” his head turns to you, making you instinctively nod your head before soobin continues, “we assemble it at the end, got it?”

the other four said a ‘yes’ as you turn to soobin, stunned. soobin seems to notice as you catch him taking a peek from the corner of his eye.

you walked to your bedroom following the two girls as they stood around your luggage. it feels weird to know someone so easily tells others to do things. but you realize if it’s not you, the owner, how will they arrange your stuff in your apartment?

“well, i’m thinking of putting the clothes in this suitcase into this wardrobe, then the shirt and pants on the shelves inside.” with that comment from you, all of you get to work.

the two girls nod their head from your guidance, opening the suitcase and bags of clothes you brought as you glimpse outside the room to view the boys opening the boxes with anything that they could of. you wanted to help your new acquaintances, but when you turn to grab your pocket knife off the table, you were met with an empty one. the search for red knife goes one by one, lifting the leftover bubble wrap and empty boxes then glancing at both jihoon and jaemin’s hands who are helping you unpack your orders—assemble if needed. lastly, you land your eyes on the blond boy’s, the blade folded as he grips it in his palm. you tried to approach him, finding his head drooped while looking at his other hand. the same fairy tale book you saw is now in his grasp: the one with the lost boys and pan.

though you can’t see how he looks at it, his vision lingers there—a beat too long—before he shook his head and turn to the side, letting him glance at you from the corner of his eyes. you give a brief tight-lip smile before you look at your pocket knife in his hand, the one that he holds so tight.

“i’ll do the box opening. you can do the arranging.” his voice, soobin’s, said as he give the book to you before pulling away and following what the other boys do, letting you stand there, collecting your thoughts before you arrange the stuff you’re putting in your new home.

the sky has moved from a light blue to an orange as you all rested in your new living room. empty boxes stacked near the entrance and dust still gathered on the floor as you told them you’re alright to sweep it by yourself. the toolbox that jihoon brought from his room saved the assembling part of the bed frame as he sat near suhyeon. chaewon lets out a victorious cheer as she rests her head on the cushion near where jaemin is sitting. you and soobin sit side by side on the floor as you held back a wide smile whilst looking at the tidy room, imagining any other decorations to be added if you have the money and time, and certainly a friend for your little flower on the balcony.

“i-“ you let out a small giggle. “i can’t thank any of you enough.” your heart palpates as you heard the chorus that came from the others.

“you’re welcome, (y/n). it’s the least we can do for our new neighbor.” chaewon reaches for your hand, giving it a small tug.

“not the least, if i consider it. you’ve all done so much yet i don’t know enough about any of you.” you chuckled, staring at the rest of them and how you were the only one out of place in terms of fashion and style. you’ve noticed how each of them are stylish in their own way, urban streetwear being the main look that you’ve connected between all five of them—making you feel left out once again in your hand-me-down overalls and shirts. the sense being left out coming back after a long time it has disappeared since the day of your graduation.

“well, now that we’re done.” suhyeon stands up and grabs the fruitcake she brought and nudges it to you. “we can get to know each other more.”

you give a small gaze at the cake and tea spoon right beside it before retrieving it from her. “okay.” you replied.

“i don’t know if mrs. bae is kidding or not, but you are around our age, right?” jaemin asked. you chuckled as you cut the fruitcake.

“i am 21. all of you are too?” you said, knowing deep down what they will mention after it.

“yeah. we are!” chaewon enthusiastically said, earning a head shake from jaemin as she continues, “oh, did you move here to go to college here? you’ve transferred your credits, right?”

“i-“ you hold on to the plate, hand on the spoon as you scrape the cake into it. “i don’t go to college.” your shoulder shrugs down as the rowdy atmosphere is now unnaturally quiet, making you able to make out the distant sound of engines running down the road from fathoms below the floor you are in.

“i couldn’t afford college. i move to this area cause i find it the cheapest and i could blend in, you know.” you give a taste of the fruitcake, letting the sweetness melt onto your tongue as if fairy dust was sprinkled on it—reminding you to one of your fairytales where the fairies eat cake like what you’ve described. it tastes like something your grandma bakes, letting the memories simmer in your thoughts that you hope none of the people in front of you notices how the mix of emotions you’re feeling makes your eyes tear up.

“hey…” jihoon leans forward from his seating posture. “you don’t have to be ashamed for not going to college…”

you nodded your head, remembering your grandma’s message on how college doesn’t equate to success. but, when you found out you were the only graduate of your high school year to not leave the small town for college, you were devastated. you wanted to be equal with your peers, though not in a friendship sense. but the resources you have couldn’t afford it and you don’t know if you can repay a loan if you take one out. so you gave it up and let yourself be until grandma told you to live here.

“thank you. i risk everything to be here. i don’t have a safety net until i got a job and i haven’t applied to anything.” you then continue to eat, wallowing with yourself as you realized how unprepared you are. how you want to punch your brain for not thinking of any plans once you came here. sporadic is a word that can be defined for you, but grandma always reminds you that life is an adventure, no matter how planned or unplanned it is.

“wait.” you heard suhyeon exclaimed. “speaking of a job, all of us are working at the same place. and they overloaded us with customers that we may open a position up to help and cover more.” she added, making your eyebrows raise.

“you do?”

“yeah, soobin knows, right? we need more people?” suhyeon asked the boy beside you.

“uh yeah, but i don’t think that is (y/n)’s cup of tea.” soobin replied. you tilted your head towards him, eyebrows furrowed.

“why? where do you all work?”

“it’s a pub near here called neverland.” jihoon answered.

you’ve never seen yourself working at a pub. you don’t even recognize what job prospect is available here in the city because you only ever see yourself as either a gardener or a florist—most of the time you spend is with the floras in your house. but you guess it’s much better than working somewhere unsafe and you could use the cooking skills you learned back when you replace your grandma to care for your household’s everyday meals. you desperately need money and grandma asked you to spread your wings—try new experiences—and it’ll be much better if you work with people you know rather than complete strangers.

“i could work there.” you said, “but one of you has to teach me how to mix the drinks if i’m being put at the bar…”

“of course, we will.” chaewon said, a warm smile on her face as the light outside shone on her. the dark has shown up as they pushed the light of the day away. one by one, all of you looking outside the window to figure out the time that has passed. “i guess it’s our time to go, right, guys?” she added.

the chorus of agreement sounds as all of you stand up and you brought them to your front door. you replied to their farewells as they scurried one by one in the hallway, doing whatever they planned to do, leaving you alone with the blond boy.

“i guess i’ll get going?” he asked as he turned to face you, his figure leaning against your doorframe.

“yeah, i have to sweep the floor and clean myself up because the landlady asked me to join her for dinner.” you lick your dry lips. “it’s, it’s been a long day for me.” you exhaled.

“you definitely deserve a rest,” soobin looks down at the floor, “and can i ask for your number?”

“m-my number??”

“yes, for the job and for joining our group chat. we love for you to be there.” soobin replied. your mind recalibrated from thinking outside of the realm. he wants you to join in as a friend, not whatever imagination that shows up.

“yes, yes, definitely.” you grab soobin’s phone and insert your number, giving yourself a small “test” message as you catch a chime coming from your phone deep inside the living area. when you looked up to give the phone, you catch how soobin nips his bottom lip. a look of something radiating in his eyes: warm and sweet. a slight shine that you’d seen before. but you shook your head as a sting suddenly surges in your head.

“you okay?” soobin asked, noticing how you grimaced even though you tried to not show it if possible.

“i’m fine. sorry for concerning you.” soobin shook his head, letting out a smile as you notice how dimples form on his cheeks. he stepped backwards as you step closer to hold your door open. you examine the five other doors on your floor and how each of them is where the friends you made today live. soobin walks to the door right next to yours as he punches the code into his keypad.

“see you soon enough, soobin.” you peeked behind the small space of the ajar door of your new apartment as soobin stepped in and turn around to close his door, giving one last glance at you.

“it’s good to see you, darling.”

the door close as your mind is stuck on the last word he said. a word you haven’t heard in a long time from a voice you’ve newly identified, yet you get a recollection that you’ve heard that same voice before.

closing the door of your apartment, you rush to go to the balcony and fling yourself on the railing that splits you from the outside world. your heart thumps as you collect yourself, dropping yourself to your knees as you breathe the open air. eyes staring at the buildings littering your view and one open space of shaded green that is the campus where your new friends go to.

you know you’ve listened to that voice before, but every time you tried to dig deeper, the sting comes back.

resting yourself down on the floor as you leaned your back against the railing, your eyes landing on the pot with a flower you’ve known all its life wilted as if it recognizes the sentiments you’re feeling. you let out a small smile as you stick your hand out, smoothing its petals to soothe it from a distance, seeing how your fingertips turn green just like your grandma’s.

your fingers sway in the air as the flower and leaves follow you. another leaf grows as you trace it from a stem and two shadows come into your vision. a butterfly comes and rests on your flower, but there is also a moth sitting by the side of the pot.

the way their wings contrast the shade coming from the darkening sky behind you, you let out a small smile as you watch them together. but as you stare at them closer, your head spins as it gets heavier. shaking it away, you step inside your apartment and brought yourself to clean up after a long, tiring, yet exciting day.

-

“i’ve never seen a butterfly and moth at the same time, you know?” your spoken words fly into the vast space. the bustling sound of moving leaves enters your ear, masking the waves of the ocean behind it away.

you gape at the beautiful butterfly and moth pairing under the faded illumination of the purple and orange sky—letting the day go by once again in this place. all the magical things that you’ve seen mesmerized you, making you think back on how you are here in the first place. the sensation of nature that you haven’t felt in a long while, associating it with the freedom you had without the weight of expectations.

“you could see more of this island, darling…” a warm touch rests on your shoulder and the ends of your flowy dress graze your calves. turning your body around, you gaze at the being that brought you here. his blond hair all over the place, the outer garment he wore stretches down until his covered legs, leaving the middle of his torso bare as you view how his skin glistens in the sunlight.

“if, you stayed with me here, in neverland, with the boys too.” one of his hands grazes the apple of your cheek with his knuckles. a confident gaze in his eyes with doubts speckling in. the ground crunches under both of you from the dead leaves he stood on as he steps closer.

“pan, you know i can’t stay, right?” you reminded him as he answered with a small nod that is so short and fast, you almost didn’t notice it if you hadn’t focused on him.

you can’t count how long time has gone for you back in your home, but it has been three days since you arrived in neverland. on that day when pan arrived, you were struggling to do your homework. you were mad at yourself to succumb to your adolescent life. the life you now realized is full of limbos as you can’t seem to define yourself. how your parents expected you to be proper and poise and teachers expect you to do well in your studies.

all you wanted to do was to play as you used to after seeing your younger siblings play with their friends by the street while you have to do your chores—haven’t experienced that euphoria when you are forced to face adulthood. you miss seeing stains on your dress from playing at the park where fancy-looking people also enjoy themselves, trailing down a path full of beds of flowers as you grazed your fingertips against their petals, feeling them coil to the touch. how only on this island that you can touch them again and they reciprocate by wrapping their petals around your fingertips; missing you, as if they learn about you from the plants you sightsee back home.

you wish you didn’t grow up.

it sticks into your mind as long as you remember it by the time you’ve entered secondary education. when the thought of it showed up as you detect the ink dried out from your quill—blotches of them leaving a stain on the paper you were supposed to collect to your teacher, that was when pan arrive. the boy who gave you the choice to escape your routine.

“you can stay young with us, darling,” he spoke the words that has formed in your mind to combat the specific sentence showing in your head. the corner of his mouth slightly raised as the mischievous yet sweet small smile he shows when he sets down at your bedroom door appears once again. you can’t help to be enamored by it.

pan is the most enchanting boy you’ve ever seen, much more than what the girls at your school called handsome. he is a tad bit shy but when the boys pry him to open up to you, he is the sweetest, even sweeter than your younger siblings—which you can’t believe as they are as sweet as honey. yet, he also has a sense of dauntlessness in a way, especially facing the pirates and other beings you’ve met days before as he travels with you throughout the island.

“but i can’t let go of my family either, pan,” you respond, eyes glancing at the sky above as if you can look at their phantoms back home. it is how you came here anyway, recalling caressing the cloud as the magic dust he brought levitated you to bring you here.

“aren’t they worried about me?” you sighed, speaking your mind before closing it, bracing for the answer from him.

“you know they aren’t.” you clenched your eyes. “they have not been ever since your younger brother was born.” pan told you the painful truth that is lodged into your consciousness.

you never wanted to be the oldest child in a patrilineal world. the consequences of the period you lived in where men are seen to be the wisest, even if they have older sisters. you love your siblings. you do. but you wished you were an only child so that your parents won’t set you aside.

you have told none of that information to him.

“how’d you know that?” you open your eyes and glance toward him. pan lets out a knowing smirk, eyes glinting at how you’ve caught something that he didn’t notice. it impresses him how intelligent and careful you are.

“i’ve tried to see if there are people who are similar to me, similar to the boys too. people who just want to escape the world and stay in peace, even if we have pirates such as hook who barges in.” he chuckles before continuing. “then i come across you and i saw myself in you. how you wanted more than the world had to offer to you now. when you live in that city block with your pot of flowers beside the windowsill, you’ve always looked out as if adventures are waiting for you to start it.”

and adventures did indeed start when you came here to neverland. you remembered seeing a moth resting on one of your flowers as pan introduces himself to you, witnessing you floating in your room before he grabs your hand and take you away. other than the pirates you encounter—the ink-covered captain hook and his mates, you recalled how the boys helped you save yourself from a siren’s song when you play by the beach. as they describe it to you that very night, they’re holding your body back and put rolled-up leaves to plug your ears, muffling its melody as you slowly gain your consciousness back. pan got so furious that he even encounter the siren itself, similar to what he did to the captain of the pirates. he lets you sleep with your head on his shoulder by the campfire—the only one that stays awake as his other boys are also asleep—warming you up after having 2/3 of your body submerged in the wavy ocean as you follow the siren’s melody.

you knew there were unrecognizable auras as he stares at you when you regain your consciousness, hands cupping your face as your trance falls away similar to the water by the beach, only seeing him in your sight as it clears out. your muffled hearing still helps you listen to the ocean waves as he checks all over your body for any injury you could’ve got. his eyebrows furrowed and creases formed on his forehead before you soothe him with your palm behind his back and on his shoulder blade, letting him hug you to calm him down; while he wraps you tight in his arms.

“i used to live in your world too, but circumstances in my household left me no choice but to escape. that’s how i find the boys, how we came to neverland, and how i got this magic after volunteering myself as the leader.” he stares at you with known sadness in his eyes. one part of the look he gave you is the same one as when he saved you from the pirates and the siren before the flame of anger seems to take their place as he faces them on behalf of you.

“you wanted to save me, then?” you questioned him.

“i don’t want you to be alone. you will not be when you have us. when you have me, darling.” he replies, blinking away that sadness as that unrecognizable gaze from the rescue and campfire yesterday came back. the shattered light coming from above the leaves you’re under shines on pan in the best way possible. his eyes look more alive because of it, while a few of them land on his cheeks and the area where you can catch his dimples forming.

you nodded your head, “i understand now from what you said earlier.” your hands rested on his forearm as he catches yours in his.

“nobody understands me as you do. it’s a terrifying choice for me to take, pan. but…” you wet your lip as you paused.

“i’ll stay. but you also have to let me visit them if i can.” you propose to him, to which he replied with a wide smile that makes his dimples show up. he tugs you closer to him and you felt his arms around your back, making your head fall onto his shoulder. his warmth against your skin makes your heart swell, how it can only be heightened if you’re hugging each other skin on skin. the tightness of the grip lessens as he pulls back from you but then pushes his head near yours, his forehead touching yours when you realized something plump is on your lips. his lips.

your body froze when he leans back, licking his own lips as you see his eyes looking down at your face. your cheeks started to heat up as you try your best to glance at him—eyelids fluttering—before the lights on his face faded. turning your head, you see the slowly descending sol touch the ocean surface.

“i’ll promise to take care of you, darling.” he declares, a small smile on his face. you lean your figure forward, making you have to tilt your head back so you can catch his eyes.

“it’s (y/n). my name is (y/n).” you correct him, a small smile embracing your appearance as he follows. you never told him your name as he also calls you darling, akin to how your mother called you. if you want to stay with him, surely you can trust him with your name, correct?

“you know, my name isn’t actually ‘pan’”. his reply making your eyebrows rose. pan always introduces himself as pan. even the boys call him pan every time they’re with you. but his story of staying in your world catches your attention once again. yes, his name is different compared to the boys, yeonjun, beomgyu, taehyun, and kai. it is as if pan is a title of some sort, a title given to a person who will take care of neverland and balance them. you’ve heard that name before from your world, maybe even read it in a book you’ve read, but you forgot which one is it and what it means.

his hands embrace both of your cheeks as he told you something sacred, only for you and the other lost boys.

“my name is soobin.”

-

“hey, (y/n)!”

you shake your head when someone calls your name. in front of you is a silver long table mirroring a distorted reflection of you wearing your apron and uniform for work. your eyes cast towards the source to see jihoon at the other side of the counter where the bar is, pushing his hand that is holding a piece of paper.

“order for table 6,” he told as you step towards the divider, scanning in the hand-written order for the table—you recognize is jaemin’s handwriting—and turning around when you listened to the water running and dropping into the sink as it pierces the mostly quiet room. the blond boy lets it run as he cleans a few of his kitchen utensils whilst he shifts to look at you.

“divide and conquer, (y/n)?” soobin stated which you nod, letting the note slide into his vicinity as he scans it.

“i’ll do club sandwich,” you tell him as you heard clinking coming from the bar jihoon is tending.

after the night that soobin left your unit, you received a notification from a group that is named “the lost children“, recognizing the names of your five neighbors in the member’s list. they gave you the name of the manager and co-owner of the pub, jungkook—or, as the others like to call him “kook”—to you. you expected little when you texted the manager, thinking he’ll have a much more crowded pool of candidates that are waiting to get a job too since it is one of the more popular hot spots near the campus. that’s when he called you in a few hours after you reached out and interview you the next day, meeting the tattoo-covered man with his menacing piercings resembling the appearance of pirates that your grandma has described in the fairytales you’ve remembered. he tests you on your cooking skills and many more before he then hired you on the same day, especially interested in you joining when you said you can work full time.

“our pub is full of part-timers for a reason. but we need a full-timer who can be versatile as well. help the kitchen, tend the bar, facing the customer. though your skills are rough, polish them enough and you can work here effectively.” kook said as you nodded, secretly cowering from his enormous presence. indeed, he also gave you more trust because of your scheduling, holding onto the list of ingredients and ledgers full of business numbers that you have learned to identify yourself.

students from the near campus come and do their shifts, most of them are around your age like felix, aeri, lia, and jongho. but in night shifts, your friends are your saviors. ever since you’re here with them, you’ve been following their guide on the art of serving food and beverages, rotating each of your position so you could try it all and gain every information you could get. but especially in night shifts, you’ve noticed how you—coincidentally—have been with soobin most of the time. either in kitchen staff, bar staff, or servers.

and the boy, well, he reciprocated it as if it was a pleasure for him to be with you most of the time. as if he planned this with jungkook or mingyu, the other co-owner and kook’s second in command, to put both of you together.

with a few gazes at him, your headache also comes back from time to time, bracing yourself against the nearest surface if the dice rolls and lands on the chance it happens. and each time it came, soobin is the one mostly on your side. the throbbing pain you suffered against your head piercing even your skull before his touch on your shoulders soothes you down. but now, more and more are forming as you rather waited at the kitchen staff, where only a few heads can notice than let the customer see how “unwell” you are. even with the rotation of staff, soobin is the one that stayed with you the most, with suhyeon and jaemin having a few rotations with you too.

each time, more things trigger you. seeing jihoon and his skills with his tools, seeing jaemin slouching down with a book in his hand, seeing chaewon and suhyeon giggling with each other, and even kook and his second-in-command with his hands wrapped in front of his torso. it’s like experiencing déjà vu from time to time. but you are being bombarded by them one by one. it doesn’t even feel like one to you anymore. yet, you struggle to find the right words to describe it. the memories that are being brought up come from within you, but whose memory is it from, and when did they burn them into your mind?

many nights have gone since you moved. you’ve decorated your apartment much to your liking and much more with your friends’ contributions. a lava lamp rests on the coffee table—bought by jaemin and chaewon, suhyeon gives you a scrapbook that you filled with journals and small doodles, jihoon gives you a set of kitchen utensils, and soobin gave you a music box that plays a song with a mermaid? siren? perched on top of a boulder, singing a song to you. it’s so familiar like you’ve heard the song being blown with the wind before, entrancing you before your conscience falls back.

your plants also react to your joy and pain in ways that you’ve never seen before. sprout now having friends of its own—though not much as the plants back then. they decorate the balcony of your apartment as if it’s a sanctuary that reminds you of your old house, grandma’s garden, and the forest as its background. vines grow even from the cracks of the wall as you try your best to accommodate every flora that grows in your small area. but you also see dead leaves falling onto the soil as time only moves forwards. yet even that, your green thumb helps to heal them, telling them they’re amazing as you visibly look at them repairing themselves from your energy.

in those many nights too, you’ve tried to join in on the activities your new friends do. walking around the night, eating street food in a busy neighborhood, looking at the rows of racks at thrift shops that are cheap enough for your budget, and many more. you stand at the back with soobin most of the time, trying to blend in with his street-style ensemble, reluctant to join your friends who are openly having fun. yet even being your usually quiet self, you still have fun and try to open up more.

as time goes on, you learned the dynamic of the group much more. sure, all of them are mature in their own ways, but soobin gives off a sense of dominance within the group, not just when you hang out but also when you all are working. his domineering demeanor resembles a father figure, something you experience little in real life but can also pinpoint from the many stories that you’ve learned and faded memories that have shown up.

your relationship with the others is as smooth as a sail, but with soobin? you sensed something unusual. the air around both of you is heavier than it is. how his round eyes are cold as you can feel them biting your skin. how his blond hair stands out so much it pulls out a vivid memory of yours—like you’ve seen it in an illustration before. a cartoon, maybe. all of them becoming blurry to you.

but, you also see something with soobin when you hang out with him and your friends. how he laughs with them freely. how he openly talks to them about his struggles with his homework—you learned all of their majors and found out that soobin is a literature major. how he blends in well with the thrown teases within the group, including a few thrown to you, which you tried to come back as good as they are. yet you could detect that shield he puts on whenever he nears you. it’s as if there is danger for him when he is with you, or danger for you when you are with him.

the door of the walk-in fridge needed both of your hands to be pulled, the gushing cold air coming out into the kitchen as you step inside. produces like vegetables, fruit, and meat stacked on shelves. there are the ones you have cooked with before but also ones that you are still learning to cook based on the recipe book kook gave to you; complete with instructions on how to cook it. the recipe of the club sandwich is nudged into your memories—a staple food that many came here to consume—as you pull out the fresh ingredients that you needed. each step of your movement echoes in the medium-sized room, yet it is masked by the hum of the cooling fans above, not letting you pick up anything or anyone stepping closer to you.

“hey.” you flinched from the voice as you shift to meet soobin’s towering figure beside the shorter rack—hugging your ingredients close to your chest. soobin’s eyebrows raised as he looks at how you huff and puff to let the shock out of your systems.

“soobin, don’t scare me like that.” you nudge him with your elbow as you heard his giggles before returning to scan the shelves for any missing produce you might not have grabbed.

“you know what i see this walk-in fridge like?” soobin hums as you turn to watch him with a cut of beef on his, waiting for his answer.

“a cave by the ocean.”

your eyes stayed on his figure as he picked up the ones he needed effortlessly with his long limbs, “the cold air is like the wind blowing from the sea. the ocean has an inlet into the cave that is right below a small hole in the ceiling, letting the sunshine in and reflect the blue on the walls of the cave, like how the white light of this room creates a sort of blue tint to the metal walls.” soobin gazes towards you, “anyone that likes the beach would love to stay there.”

“have you been to one?” you turn to face him, the door of the fridge at the wall across from you, eyeing him curiously.

“i have. you also, right?”

your body stiffens from his words as unidentified memories swirl up once again. closing your eyes to shake it off, you find yourself in that cave instead, overlooking a beach that stays halfway into the mouth of a wide cave. the walls reflecting the rippling water as you gaze up to find a hole that lets in a ray of sunshine. it’s like an illustration. an illustration that you’ve seen before in the fairytale book you’ve read where you finally remembered where it is from. pan.

you thought your ears were deceiving you as you didn’t mean to catch the noises in the memory. but your ears picked up the sound of laughing as you turn around to find people sitting by an unlit campfire. five figures all wearing battered clothes with ripped fabrics on their top or by their calf-covered pants. stepping closer, you felt the softness underneath you as you stare down to see yourself bare-footed on the sand and the white skirt of a dress sticking to your calves from the blowing wind.

it felt real. too real.

“darling!“ someone calls as you lift your head, seeing one of them turn head towards you. the face is fuzzy but you note how bright their hair is.

blond.

darling.

“darling.” you close your eyes and shake your head as you open to see soobin now right in front of you. the ingredients he held now gone, replacing it with your shoulders on each of his palms. his eyes in line with yours, close enough that you can look at the creases on the outer corners on both, how his bottom lip slightly jutted out—creating a discreet pout. his irises move to watch all around your face, not landing on your sight at all. you receive a light rhythmic brush on the sleeve of your upper arms, letting your breath follow the rhythm that you captured.

“fuck…” he looks down. you never heard him curse before in the weeks you have moved here, and that’s with how you, he, and the others almost hang out every night outside of your work hours. but, by the looks of it, he didn’t say it as a usual exasperation. how soobin’s face twitches to different emotions in microscopic ways amazed you. but it creates something heavy in your heart as well. soobin is very much concerned about you if he is feeling this way. his head turns away, facing the shelves nearest to you both while trailing his eyes down the ingredients inside. that’s when you picked up his mumbles, catching a few cut parts of the sentences that he spoke in rapid fire.

“- that’s too far.”

“shouldn’t push too hard.”

“she’s in pain again.”

“i knew she remember.”

“almost there.”

“soobin!” your call reaches his consciousness as you stare into his eyes, reflecting the expression he gave to you before right back to him. his rambling’s sudden stop is what you predicted as his wide eyes stare towards you. how panicky he seems like he knew what you’ve experienced is coming before you do. putting down the ingredients you held on the shelf, you turned towards him.

“i’m okay…” soobin hears you sound as you soothe him down more than when he soothes you, something that seems so natural to you even though you never had this kind of interaction with him. his figure relaxes from every caress you give. your hand rubs onto his upper arm as you sense goosebumps forming on the exposed skin of his sleeves. the hum of the walk-in fridge filled your hearing sense as you stare at his face. his tousled blond hair disarray as you trail your eyes down his apron-covered front.

a second too long. feels like millennia of knowledge injecting into you who you don’t know how to decipher.

retracting your fingers back to your own figure, you immediately pick up the ingredients and retreat toward the warm doorway. soobin not following you as you let him collect his thoughts while you quickly prepare the ingredients.

“customers are waiting, soobin,” you said to him as loud as you can from behind the counter.

“coming,” he replies as you went back to work, shaking your head from the weird yet recognizable look in the boy’s eyes.

hours pass as you both do your job, the sun already set from the glimmer of light you can see through the hole between the kitchen and the dining area. suhyeon greets you with a small smirk as you both stand by the employee’s locker room. her hand holding onto your shoulder as she asked, “you’re coming right? it’s not that often that kook has to close the pub early for the match in a few days.”

“yeah, i heard from him we could work until the latest of nights especially if your college won.”

kook’s strategy to cut your work hour for today in preparation is admirable to others. his lip and eyebrow piercings shining under the light from the ceiling as he told all six of you so. but you still can’t believe what the others said about him. how they describe him as a manipulative boss that is slowly lowering the supply cost the pub needs and the reason the ingredients are sometimes not enough. you thought he might be saving for something, but even with your limited business knowledge and scanning the sheets full of numbers he trusted to you, it shouldn’t have to cut the cost of supplies. right?

every time you checked the ingredients and brewery, you count how the quantity has dwindled more. you wanted to check on it with mingyu, but you remember he said “just trust him” every time you tried.

other than that, whispers fly between the part-time workers about how kook is a gambling addict and womanizer—even hitting up on lia at some point. you want to give the benefit of the doubt, but you remembered mr. jung’s advice to you in one of your adulting lessons that are always sticking in your mind.

“play hard to get with your trust. not everyone is as trusting and reliable as your grandma.”

a hand wraps around your shoulders as you see chaewon letting out a cheeky smile, “what took you both so long? the boys are waiting.”

you heard the chain strap from her bag clinking against her side of the body. your eyes glance between her, yours, and suhyeon’s outfit. how you’ve blended in with all of them with your own style too. the color is still your signature earthy tone, but you are confident enough to wear something a little tighter and expose more skin but with a baggy outer that they suggested to you as you all thrift shopped. the black tank top you’re wearing sticks to your torso and you felt the lightweight earthy green coat covering you from the chilly night air as you all walk out to the empty area full of dining chairs stacked on top of the table.

the boys are waiting behind the glass windows when you can catch the usual white stick already in between jaemin’s lips; clouds of smoke flowing out of him. suhyeon lets you and chaewon out as the boys turn towards you, jihoon showing an annoyed voice as he nags on why it takes so long for the three of you. your vision glance at soobin, who is in a black ensemble, sweater, jean pants, and a black beanie that accentuates his blond hair. a tight smile formed on his face as he saw you, letting you reply with your own before chaewon and suhyeon pulled you to be by their side.

your eyes still haven’t adjusted to the neon lights and signs that the city has offered to you even with the days you’ve settled here. the many heads you can’t even count by the street, especially the ones full of shops and restaurants. faces you pass by seemingly familiar in ways that you might see them or feel their presence, mindlessly live their lives that you are curious with too. the lights shining in blue, white, and pink illuminate all of your friends’ dark attires as you all approach a street that is famous for its restaurants. jaemin leading all of you into one that is full of people, the crackling sound of the grills filling your ear as you smelt the smoky aroma before seeing the rising gray cloud.

the six of you sitting face to face, three on each side with suhyeon and chaewon not wanting to let you go. jihoon orders what all of you want as jaemin and soobin talk about something you can’t understand because of how rowdy the place is. you like to make homemade food, but with your work schedule, you don’t have time for dinner, so you went out a lot and eat the cheap street food that is offered on your way back. you still like to read the recipe book you inherit from grandma and want to cook each of them up. even using the fruits and vegetables that you grew yourself like what grandma has someday in the future. but you don’t feel right to exploit your savings that way, so you try to keep it for yourself, mostly.

“how many bottles do we want?” jihoon’s voice heard.

“soju?” chaewon asked. “maybe three for now. different flavors. get the original one.”

your eyes trail to chaewon, enlarged as you lean into her ear. “i never tried alcohol before.”

“never?!” she turns as you nod your head. the three boys seem to notice chaewon’s exclaim as suhyeon leans in.

“you should remember, chae. she’s literally an independent woman who moves to the city for the first time. i don’t expect her to drink any kind of alcohol,” the long-haired girl said as you watch jihoon lean in.

“yeah. not only that, we can help guide her to her first time drinking,” he said, weirdly enthusiastically that jaemin who sits two seats away has to lean in and rebut his friend.

“wait, (y/n). do you actually plan to drink?” the four turn their heads to you as your eyes move between them before landing on soobin’s who sits across from you. something nudges your shoe-covered foot as you lean down to see soobin’s shoe on yours, smoothing it down slowly as you face all of them. grandma’s phrase rings in your mind once again.

“i’ll try. maybe just one glass. i don’t know what will happen but i’m with you all and i trust you. so, why not?” you replied as chaewon shook your body as you all waited for the food you order.

by the time the food arrived, you helped grill the barbeque as they trust you to cook it well—a perk of being placed in the kitchen most of the time. when you met the green bottles full of alcohol, you see jihoon picking up one bottle and giving them to suhyeon as each of you passes the small glass that came with it. hearing the small crack, you view suhyeon with the bottle and cap’s seal broken, waiting to be opened and drunk.

“this is the original flavor. it’s gonna taste like water but bitter and you’re gonna feel something hot after drinking it in your stomach. that’s the alcohol.” you listened. then chaewon gave you the small glass which you hold carefully as suhyeon helps pour it. raising your glass that is nearly full of liquid, you put it against the light beside the cooker hood, analyzing how clear it is. it does look like water, you thought as you see suhyeon pouring the soju into her own glass; the others holding onto their own filled glasses.

“we can’t let the meat too overcooked. let’s do a toast.” jihoon says as chaewon giggles beside you. “soob, give ‘em”

“ahh okay…” soobin said as you watch him smile, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. “i don’t know what i’m thinking about letting (y/n) be part of us, the lost children. but i’m glad to see her with us now. we listened to your stories as well as we share ours, though you heard more of the other than mine—but i listen and i care. we all are glad to be your friends, (y/n). and fuck the people back in your hometown for not seeing you that way.”

“hear, hear,” suhyeon exclaimed beside you, yet you continue to gaze at soobin as he continues.

“let’s give a toast to our new friend, (y/n), and for her new life here with us.”

“cheers!!!” the words bouncing from one person to another as you follow, clinking your glass with the others as they throw their heads back and drink the liquid in one try. your glass meets soobin’s last, pursing your lips as you stare at the object in your hand before returning to him.

“slowly, darling,” he mumbled even from across the table as soobin drinks his shot before putting the glass on the table. there’s a sound of a knock on the wooden table from his glass before he returns to the tongs he used as you both cooked with the grill.

letting the rim of the glass close to your lips, you lean the glass as you get the taste of alcohol. the liquid is so familiar yet it also isn’t as it tasted weird on your taste buds. you familiarize the bitterness that suhyeon mentioned but didn’t expect the subtle sweetness in the aftertaste—the glass was half empty. you notice all of them expecting your reaction before your mind said, screw it, and down the other half down. the soju arrived cold at the table so it refreshed your esophagus before you put the glass down on the table before you. your face grimacing from the weird taste as you look at jihoon’s concerned expression.

“it’s… okay. i’ll try the other two flavors too but only one shot,” you comment as you caught the four loudly sigh. you continue to get your own tongs and help soobin cook, who is staring at you with an unreadable expression.

for you, it was another two shots of two different flavors of soju. but for the others, they order two other bottles. even with that, you can perceive how tipsy you’ve become, almost similar to when you’re lacking sleep. but you were awake enough to see all of your friends unhinged, seeing their bodies wobbling and drunkness overcoming them. yet, when you look at soobin, he’s not like the others. sure, he drank more shots than you, but you notice that he never pours his own drinks again after a while as the others scramble around to get the green bottles until they’re empty.

after putting the food in your stomach, you feel the fullness from eating but the tipsiness from the alcohol as you let your eyes wander. glancing at soobin, you see him giggle, watching the way suhyeon and chaewon are leaning their head against your shoulders.

“we should end the night, shouldn’t we?” jaemin mumbles as jihoon picks up his belongings, not saying anything before soobin lets out a nod.

the other four leans near your body as soobin pays for the food before all of you scurry away into the streets. the walk to your apartment building comes in variations of volume—from the crowded street full of people—before it slowly fades away as you all walk towards the residential areas.

the other four are at the front of the group as you and soobin stay behind, giggling to yourself as you see them doing their usual shenanigans, but more hyper and chaotic than ever before. you knew with your mostly sober mind, you’ll probably be the one to help them if you could. but you are glad soobin is here without you, not letting you wallow in your thoughts about what is happening right this instance, what happened in the pub, and what happened between the two of you: senses are more hyperaware than ever.

you always thought that the soobin you met—a colder and intimidating guy—was really him. but at the barbeque restaurant, you now recognize that it is a mask. and it’s slipping more and more as he drinks. soobin becomes a bit more talkative with you under the influence of alcohol. usually, he only does small talk with you and it’s jarring to hear that compare to his dynamic with the rest of the group. though you both just met the day you move, you always knew that there might be something more than a cold and calculated demeanor. but why is he hiding it from you out of all people?

“it feels like we’re playing parents here and they’re our children.” soobin exclaimed as you walk behind your friends, facing your head to him.

“we cook for them. we pay for them. we take care of their drunken selves.” he continues then faces you, letting his words fade into the night.

“they’re not that childish. but when you think of it… yeah. why is it always us, though? i, i know they trust you and you seem to know how capable you are. but why me too?” you let out a small chuckle as you hear jaemin’s waves of laughter that you never caught before filling the air from suhyeon tickling him. the background slowly moves as you identify the tower that all six of you live in. the shining dots on the floor each has a tenant inside, living life the way they do.

“i mean you are the most responsible out of all of us. maybe that’s why many young adults go to college.” he trails off as he speeds forward. you turn your head to the front to see your friends already meters away as you stride as fast as you can to keep up with soobin.

“what is that supposed to mean, soobin?” his figure stops when both of you are closer to them and the tower.

“it’s…” you see him nibble his lips before continuing. “young adults attend college—which is technically a school that is not mandatory—because they want to stay young. making friends again and doing club activities. it’s what a child learns to do in school.” soobin turns to you, “they don’t want to realize they’ve grown up.”

eyebrows furrowed, you continued the step toward your other friends before looking behind you. “and how’s that relate to me being responsible?”

“you moving here on your own with no preparation other than your savings and the roof to live under. you knew you had the skill and level of responsibility to take care of yourself in a new environment if you are ready enough.” soobin’s eyes cast down, and he blinks rapidly, processing each word that he spoke to you.

“you knew you had to grow up.”

soobin pokes his tongue to his cheek as he follows you and you walk to your tower. your hands following his and put it in your coat pocket to not let the cold win.

you had no choice but to grow up when you graduate high school and especially after your grandma passed. with the limitation of your actions and wealth, grandma always helps you grow into the person you are. ready to face anything, even if it’s intimidating. she told you to be positive as people can reciprocate it back, but slowly in the city, arguments are thrown to hold it back. people are crafty in the city and lies are thrown everywhere, even near you.

yet you still seem optimistic. the story of pan and the lost boys were also the story of facing your coming-of-age and how people want to stop it. you can vividly remember the five boys in the book and the girl they brought from the real world to stay with them. yet she leaves because she realizes she has to grow up. what if she stays? what if you stay back at your town and do not move to the city?

the elevator’s ding signals the opening door as all of you step and disperse to get out. all of you move haggardly, knowing the painfulness of a tired body coming to you all and especially the ones who are very intoxicated.

“i’ll try to make a hangover soup for all of your breakfasts, okay?” you speak as they nod their heads. chaewon and her pouty face reach to you and hug you as the other follows, crushing you into a tight grip as soobin smiles until his dimples show.

“thank you so much, (y/n). you’re the best” jihoon says as he hiccups. raising your shoulders, it signals them to let you go as they say your good nights with jaemin being the last one as his unit is right near soobin and yours. as the door closes, the hallway’s silence enveloped you and soobin. your eyes moved to see him rubbing his head, pushing his beanie off before he holds it in his hand.

“you’re also gonna give me a bowl of the soup even if i’m not as drunk as them?” he asked as you let out a small smile, nodding. awkwardness flies between the two of you as you sway your body, hyping yourself to talk to him, but you don’t know what to talk with him.

“i’m sorry, by the way.” you hide your startled self as soobin pushed forward to speak, shifting to face you. “for worrying you back at the pub.”

“oh… yeah.” you lick your dried lips, nudging the fallen coat on your shoulders up. “sorry for worrying you too. from my daydreaming session precisely.”

“you had a lot of that since you arrived here. even holding onto your own head like you’re in pain. are you really okay?” soobin steps near you as you look away. it is always with soobin that it’s painful. but when it’s with your friends, you also had moments when you disassociate. seeing not your friends, but different boys wearing clothes that have tears on them. yet you recognize them too.

but it’s always with soobin that your “daydreaming session” becomes more prominent. though not as sore as the first one, you can still feel something press on your memory, telling you to process and remember something. but what?

“uh…” you shook your head, teeth biting your lower lip. “it’s like my brain is trying to tell me something, especially with you five. i have this weird memory recall suddenly where i am by a beach or in a forest whenever i’m with you five, especially with you, soobin.” you heard him inhale after you call his name.

eyes meeting his, his eyebrows creased as he steps closer, your feet almost touching his as you recognized how confidential this piece of information might be to just give away. but because he is the reason you feel this way, maybe he could have an answer.

“it’s like… i know you before, but from where exactly?” your hand animately moves as you try to express your thoughts. “i could label it as a déjà vu or maybe it is a coincidence. i, i don’t freaking know…”

“hey…” soobin reaches out and holds your shoulder. “thank you for trusting me. i don’t know how i can help you but you can definitely rely on me.” he nods with you following.

gulping down your saliva, you look towards soobin who is giving you a small side smile before you give one of your own. the light from the ceiling cast a shadow where you can only see his silhouette—like a sun does near the horizon. something pulls you in and as if soobin knows too, his head moving forward slowly towards yours. you can feel his breath meeting yours, eyes staring at his with brief glances make as you’re taken into a black hole that is him, pulling you in more and more.

“don’t you have class tomorrow morning?” you asked, finally able to pull away as you catch his mumble “fuck“ as he retreats to his front door. pushing his code in, he twists the door handle and pushes the door open with his back.

“i owe you one. good night, darling.” he nonchalantly spoke, didn’t think about anything he said, and stepped into his unit.

“good night, soobin,” you replied after the door closes as you return to your own.

the suffocation of the room is prominent as you feel every pump of your heart from what happened. you don’t care if it’s nighttime, but you need to calm down and process everything. the leaves from the plants—especially sprout with its daisy flower blooming—whirl when you arrived. you sat in your usual place against the back of the wall beside the railing: a favorite of yours where you can glance at your plants but also view the city. you curled your knees up to your chest as you peer towards the plants, seeing them reflecting your expression with their posture animately, even the nuances of the flusteredness you tried to push away. your heart beats not from fear, but because of the fluttering sense that you had.

you never asked why soobin called you darling. the first time you heard it, it overwhelmed you until it broke you down. but him calling you by your nickname even if he doesn’t know it is comforting. as even if you walk towards the future, the past is still there to remind you who you are. the little reminder of grandma and your storybooks help, but someone calling you darling is different.

one of your hands rested beside your curled-up body so you can hold it up. the tile floor is cold to your touch with a little softness coming from the plants growing in the cracks. your mind runs high on what happened. but what happens next? soobin now knows why you’re like that. but shivers still ran down your spine from his figure as if you met him before, that he is someone you cherished.

you don’t know how long time has gone but you feel something touching your hand on the floor. looking at it, you see a vine wrapped around your forefinger, not in an intimidating way but a soothing one as it caresses your skin. when your finger moves, it immediately retracts from your touch and follows your movement, left and right, and even growing and shrinking.

you’ve watched grandma do that before when she wants to decorate the house, even telling the trees that are planted in your garden to follow her guide. yet you don’t know if you also get that ability before now. your fingertips revert to your skin color from the green chlorophyll pigment, a smile form on your face as you feel grandma’s presence soothing you—even an unfamiliar yet identical one who you can only conclude is your other family member—as you pick yourself up and prepare to drift into slumber.

-

the grass gets greener beneath your touch, feel it being refreshed from the energy you gave to them. the sound of the waves crashing to the shore filled your ear as you turn towards your little cave opening where you reside. a little cave you call your home.

the boys left you alone as you wander near where you live, a dagger strapped onto your thigh for safekeeping or if you want to drink coconut water from the fallen fruits on the sand. you look down when you see the grass leaves wrap around your fingers. they do seem to love you here, the plants. it’s as if you’re the calling of mother nature visiting neverland for the first time. your ability seems to grow more as time goes on with you staying on the island, even forgetting what is going on in the faraway place you used to call home. will they remember you? will they question your existence? you don’t know unless you visit there. but the thought of leaving always leaves your mind as you are already too attached to the boys here, especially to pan.

you learned how to craft basic things through yeonjun’s lessons, finding the right herbs to eat with taehyun, hunting and fishing fish with beomgyu, and exploring the island with kai. soobin, well, he is always busy with things relating to his position as pan.

by the campfire, you heard all of their stories, excluding soobin’s who is somewhere on the island. when they came back at sunset a few hours ago, they brought a crate of things they stole from hook and his mates. all you do is talk and let each other talk as you can see the moon reaching the peak of the sky right at the open ceiling in your cave as you ate dinner from the fishing pile. you sensed beomgyu and kai leaning their heads against each of your shoulders as yeonjun and taehyun take turns drinking the rum that is inside that crate. their stories were your realization as to why they are called lost boys.

“soobin told you how all of us came from the same world as you, but we all have the same tune of problems. adolescence expectations and targets, pleasing the parents with studies and their results after it. some are more dangerous than the others but we know they ostracized us in a way.“ taehyun speaks the tell-all as yeonjun pushes his hand out with the bottle of rum that is near empty—not caring about what happened right after as you grab and drink the bottle until the last drop, licking the sweet residue off your lips before you wipe them with the back of your hand. all of them telling their stories one by one, opening up and showing you their most vulnerable side as you listen intently—understanding them more because most of the time you spend here is with soobin. all of that conversation spoken between all of you lasted until the pile left only soot and faint smoke flying up. the four boys rise up from the logs as they lay down on their respective spots with you helping to clean up the cave.

“thank you, mother.“ you heard beomgyu teasingly mumble, his voice slurs away as you let out a giggle. it is a jest for them that they see you as their mother figure—being the only female in the commune yet also helping clean and arrange things in it. but the more you think of it, you seem to like it. you’ve always cared for your younger siblings a lot back home. but the connection is a tad clearer, especially with your blooming relationship with their leader, who is a much more authoritative figure.

putting the utensils and other things in the right place, you look at the night sky illuminated by the surface of the sea. candles lit up in a few corners of the commune to help in navigating. your hand traces down your exposed skin by your neck and collarbone, pressing it down to feel the pain from where soobin marked you as his a few nights ago. both of you don’t know exactly what to do, but it felt right to explore more—and a little more explanation on the education side from what you learned at school. your legs are still sore but it’s slowly masked by how heavy your head is, both from the soft and relaxing atmosphere but also the substance flowing in your body. it tells you to rest up but you don’t want to, letting your steps take you outside the mouth of the cave.

you inhale the clear air you are now much more used to than steams coming out of the running machines outside of your previous house. the wind caressing your skin and rustles the plants. your thought returns to soobin and how mysterious he is slowly becoming. he promised to tell you everything, but he disappears into the day until the middle of the night, hasn’t returned and he didn’t tell you about it at all. you wanted to pry the boys, but your guilt showed up first before you take action.

sitting down on the sands near where the water crawls, you let your eyes droop. you couldn’t lie—you wanted to—but you seemed lonely. isolated. yes, you live with five other people, but when words have different meanings depending on the layer of connections you get yourself into, you are slowly getting ostracized in a group full of ostracized people. you’ve contemplated speaking about it to soobin but your guts tell you to not do that as he then went away more and more because of his pan duties. he told you what does his nickname come from as you both lay beside each other nights ago.

“pan is a title that this island’s deity gives me and makes me responsible to protect neverland, the species who live here, and the island’s nature from evil or any other dangerous parties. but i gave it another reason to help children from back in our old world to face their fears even for just one night, as an imaginary friend that brought them to neverland. there will be mythos written about me and my actions, which i don’t mind.” soobin rustles beside you as you felt his knuckles caressing your cheek, “you’re the first adolescent i had to help. the boys and i are stuck in this age as we grow up slowly, sneaking to see people our age outside the island knowing what to do with their lives. all but you.”

sure, he promised you adventures—which you had. but he never seems to bring you to his adventures. the other species on the island like fairies and sirens were told by soobin to respect you. but when you wanted to get closer, they back up and left you behind as the vines crawl to comfort you without you telling them to do so. yet, you don’t understand why they should fear you that much. you are the same as the humans here, including the pirates.

that’s when an epiphany struck you. a bolt of lightning in the bottle.

you remembered how soobin promised to bring you back to your family once in a while. but you never did—even with him flying away there for hours, gone until he came back.

you also realized that he never brought people to neverland again after you though he tells you it is one of his “jobs”. as if even with how young they are if they come here, they could recognize you from their world. it is as if he is done with his pan tasks outside of neverland, like he is satisfied to take care of other things. all after, you stayed. but he still went to your old world, doing whatever tasks he does without even considering your ultimate wish to visit your family.

hooded eyes are covering your vision when you tried to stand up by yourself. your balance is off in a way that you misplace your legs when you walk. but you can feel the underwhelming rage growing inside you as it slowly sheds away with every heavy step you took from the wet sand that sucks you down.

you needed to go home to your family, no matter what it takes. you don’t know what is beyond the horizon from the island but with a ship or boat, you could try. every step you take—no matter how sporadic—is heavy but agile with the growing fury that is flowing through your veins.

you could see the opening of the cave, planning to cut the rope and steal the boat that the boys have by the little sheltered cove you called home. but your body is pulled backwards, and something heavy covers your mouth and nose. with your intoxicated body, you were too late to get the dagger as darkness enveloped your vision.

-

“what do you mean you know nothing about her whereabouts?“

the boys cowered as they stare at their leader with a look so unnatural than his usual. his clothes were cleaner and tidier than his usual tattered ones as he left to visit the town where you used to live. papers were scattered beside his feet as the boys stare at him.

“we don’t know, soobin. we swear,“ kai mumbles as soobin strides towards him before lifting him by his collar. his teeth grinding against each other as he lifts himself off the ground with his power, dragging the other boy.

“when is the last time you see (y/n)?” kai struggles to swallow his saliva and answered as soobin’s grip rested near his throat, struggling more to breathe as soobin caught the sound of the boy’s clothes tearing little by little.

“when did you last see her?!“

“l- last night,” kai mumbles as soobin float closer, sniffing something weird on his friend before he realizes, dropping him onto the sand where taehyun is waiting to pull him up to his feet.

soobin scans the commune to find anything out of place, observing each and every part of the commune when he sees an unfamiliar wooden crate near the ones he knows. he drops to the sand before striding towards the crate and opening it to find a few empty bottles of rum.

“did all of you drink last night?“

“yes.“ yeonjun doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“did she drink any last night?“ soobin sends a follow-up answer, hoping they say “no” before turning to them and they meet him with silence. returning his gaze, he sees how emotionally down they are as they haven’t recovered from the substance, but it is much worse when you’re in recovery from how drunk you are especially when you’re not used to it. he caresses the wooden surface for any clue where they got the bottles of alcohol. that is when he felt a small indent near the bottom of the crate, which he recognizes in his waking mind. soobin shook his head in disbelief before bracing himself.

“hook. she’s with hook.“ he turns around and strides to shake his friends.

“this is all your fault. if you let my love get away like this, i-.” soobin didn’t finish as he shake his head in disbelief. he returns to his pile of loot, picks up a machete he hasn’t used in a while, and straps a sheath behind him to put it in. the other boys stare at their leader in various states of mind: guilt, tiredness, fear, and nauseous. soobin heard the rustle coming from the side, peeking to find taehyun taking a glimpse of the papers before the tall boy got up and returned to the others’ presence.

“prepare yourselves. we’re going to raid their ship,“ soobin said as he lets his pouch full of magic dust strap on his belt as the others scurried away to pack up what they need. you could’ve escaped with the dagger he gave you, but with your drunken state that he guess you had, the likely chance for you to escape is abysmal. his hands clench and unclench from the overwhelming emotions he is having, pouring out of the vase that is his mind. he has to punish the boys somehow. he will do that after he gets you back from those nasty hands of the pirates.

the boys stuck to his behind as they traverse through the forest instead of following the coastline—a much faster way to reach you. but even with the path cutting their time, the jungle’s topography is dangerous and unexpected. the usual clear path that he and the boys took now blends in with the rest of the forest grounds, obscuring his way. pulling out his machete from behind his back, he cuts the thick vines as best as he can. no spoken word is needed. his focus is only on getting you back in his arms.

but the jungle seems to fight back as he can only see the small glimmer of the light outside. with every hack of the machete, he sees the butterflies and moths going out of his way—a few fallen from not being fast enough. not minding the other four, he lets the machete whack the last few vines before meeting the beach where the pirate ship docks. the masks of the chirping birds cover the boys’ whisper as they trail the sand to the behemoth of the ship where you are. not wanting to wait anymore, he flies to the bow of the ship.

soobin’s eyes landed on your figure that is being tied at the bottom of the mast. your dress sticks to your skin, the ends of it flowing with the ocean’s wind even with your hand tied behind your back. head lulling down as you tried to rest, seemingly too tired to fight any longer. that’s when he sees the pirate captain, hair long until his nape, piercings adorning his face, tattoos littering his hand, and knuckles, with a hook on the other wrist.

“captain hook!“ soobin drops on the bow as hook turns his head towards his voice with you raising your head. the frown on the man getting deeper, pulling out his sword from his side.

“seize pan!“

the crewmates climb and crawl to the boy’s figure. all holding melee weapons of various shapes and sizes that it became too hectic for him. but using his machete, he blocks the incoming metal as the clanks touch every part of it. every lesson he learned with his friends on sword-fighting lies on this. the remnants of cuts from the training are a reminder of his loss. but he held on and continue to train until he can fight with it. but even with his magic as part of his arsenal, his skill plummets from the overwhelming amount of crewmates trying to stop him.

soobin clench his fists so tight that veins show up near the surface of his skin, sensing his power succumbing and creating a chamber inside him where it collects. he hasn’t seen the backup of his boys, adding it to the wrath that is filling him up. soobin fights and deflects as hard as he can until his magic is too hard to handle. the dust he held in his pouch falling out to his skin as they fuel his anger.

“AGHH!” soobin shouts, exploding the outrage as all things near him are pushed away and landing on places on the ships. blood splatters onto the wood and his tidy clothes as his body holds on, his nerves reacting to a sting with a liquid form a little running stream on his cheek. brushing it with his thumb, he finds the crimson liquid that is from his cut vessel.

bodies fall limp as they ran out of blood. the mast and other shrapnel of woods stick out of their fleshes as the blood pools the path between him and you. yet, pan smiled. he smiles as he steps towards your shaking body. you’ve probably never seen this much blood and all he wants is to come and comfort you from it. his footsteps covered in blood as the living crewmates cower from his moving body. you spoke nothing as the emotions overwhelmed you, eyes glistening from the tears threatening to fall. hook disappears with no trace, blown out by his magic burst.

his hands hasten to cut the rope that binds you in one slice. dropping his machete down as he holds you tight, staining your white dress with the blood on his hands—hugging you and resting his hands around your upper back. he felt you crumble under his arms as he closes his eyes, hearing your gasps before letting loose a small whine from the overwhelming emotions. your hands grasping his body in a tight squeeze.

“it’s me…“ he spoke lowly into your ears, letting the creaks of the moving wood on the ocean waves fill the space. pulling away to open his eyes, he sees your wide eye face and furrowed eyebrows as he smoothes down his thumb across your cheekbone, blood smearing on your face.

soobin’s body is pulled back when he felt a hook under his jaw and something sharp pierce the outer texture of his forearm. he heard the haggish breath of the captain hook in his ears, even felt the cold metal from his piercings touching the boy’s earlobe. yet, you didn’t seem to hurry and stop the pirate, standing there as your body is quivering.

“sweet dreams, pan,“ the pirate whispered as soobin’s eyes trail down your white dress and the blood stains he gave you before going down to your legs. that where he sees it: drops of blood landing in a small pool beside your right heel.

your body slumps down as your skin is losing its colors fast. soobin’s body thrashes against hook before he punches the pirate’s gut with his elbow, letting him go as he rushes to grab you as you fall. your mouth lets out whimpers as soobin sees behind you, seeing your dagger pierced into the lower black with blooming red on the white fabric.

“no… NO!“ soobin shouted as he turns to hook who don’t have any remorse to help you up, an unintelligible look on his face. holding your body as best as he can, your whimpers haunt him as he listens to footsteps finally arriving at the ship. turning to see the boys walking towards your laid body on soobin’s arms, pulled by gravity as your head hangs down. not strong enough to lift it yourself.

“why aren’t you doing anything?!“ the boy continued to scream. he tried to stop the bleeding, covering near the cut as best as he can, and not pulling the dagger out; knowing that more blood will flow out. but he felt a cold touch on his warm hands.

“i…“ your voice is so little only he could pick up. soobin’s tears fall on his cheek as your life fades away.

“don’t leave me.“ soobin cries, your body already limp as you don’t have control of your own agency anymore. his hands push your body up as he hugs your fading warmth. the last time he cried this hard was a long time, something he never wanted to talk about with anyone but allowing you to hear it. you were the only person he trust. you’re his world and here you are, being ripped away from it by the dagger he gave to you.

“you believe in another chance at life?” he remembers you asking, seeing the sunrise on the beach after he came back home from returning a child back to their home. “well, i do. i hope i get a chance,” you answered, drawing in the sand between where you both sit. small circles that are similar to the foams coming from the waves.

“i will like it and even with another chance at life, i want it to be with you.” soobin spokes as you stop drawing and let hold on to your hand with his.

“i promise. i’ll find you.“ he whispers into your ear when he sees your face empty of life. his jaw is locked tight as something dangerous is filling up inside him. everyone was stunned yet none was helping you as he lets himself let go.

the last thing he sees was red as he opens his eyes.

soobin’s body folds up on his bed, sweat forming on his face and his bare torso as he stares at the morning light filling up his bedroom. the digital clock on his bedside table showing the hour with its red lights. he rubs the creases form on his face, even the tears that have fallen from the corner of his eyes.

the past few nights were full of this specific dream he had over and over again, as if he is there in purgatory. yet, when he met the refreshing outside morning air on his way to his college class, his step springs into motion as if nothing happened—pushing it back with his usual memories. well, that and all the sacrifices he made to be here. the gallons of blood he had to step into at that ship deck doesn’t scare him, but he embraces it instead. getting to know each motive and detail that make him feel that enraged that day.

his open laptop obscures the way his hands move on his notebook. the flowing ink draws on the lined papers with the mention of words he heard in the dream and more he recognizes. but two are the most prominent: pan and darling with the lines between each other. the writing is unintelligible for others but him. and there is also a certain word that is flooding onto the sheet of paper, creating a reminder to not let him forget why he is here now.

(y/n).

(y/n).

my darling, (y/n).

when he found out another tenant move in into the apartment next to his, he didn’t expect to see his long-lost lover’s face; though different because your more timid side is shown. soobin had prepared for the day when he agreed to do it—to tell you who he is, who his friends are, and more—but he always thought he had to shield himself from you. he doesn’t know if the (y/n) he recognized is his love, the (y/n) that left him amid a maroon-colored deck all alone, bodies were thrown everywhere even with his lost boys and the captain not surviving. blood dripping down the side of the ship and drops into the salt-filled waters.

he realized the moment that he, jihoon, suhyeon, chaewon, and jaemin met, they are this life’s version of his boys—jihoon and his handiness skill like what yeonjun had; jaemin and his vast knowledge like taehyun’s; suhyeon’s friendliness like kai; and chaewon’s aloofness like what beomgyu has. all of them need a friend who can guide them and take care of them. they don’t hesitate to nominate him even with his humble excuses.

soobin also didn’t expect to be born in the same situation he had back in his earlier life. ignorant father and abusive mother that he had to cope with every time he can. he didn’t have a youthful life like what his neighbors have and that increases his childishness, which he learns to masquerade under his mother’s tantrums. the rum he used to steal from the pirates is being replaced with cigarettes and occasional recreational drugs that he doesn’t hesitate to do even in his teenage years—no one cared for him as a person anyway back before he met the lost children.

after reading a book about pan and the lost boys in a library back when he entered his pre-teen years, all the memories locked inside him are out of the boundaries and flood his memory. how at the mention of a dangerous siren, he remembered saving you from it. how pan first met darling is a more simple explanation when he met his darling and take her away to his home: neverland.

but when he read the ending, he had to pause as he read to find the decision of her leaving neverland and growing up to finally let pan see her as an older woman—a mother to her children—which he can’t bear to read more because it remembers it to his own mother. his darling wouldn’t leave him that way, right?

when soobin needed to get more money, he never expected to stand outside a pub called neverland near his campus. he braves himself and does observations when he met face to face with jungkook—remembering that the hook he fought was named captain jeon like the last name of his boss that conducts his interview with and make him rely on him for his income. everything was set in place—a group of friends, an abode, a neverland. all he could do is wait until the day he found darling, or when darling moved to find him and his friends.

you seem to still have your affinity to plants and he observed how plants follow your guidance with just a flick of your finger. it is something he admired you for, especially when you told him you had that gift before and it became stronger in neverland. he remembers seeing how the tips of your fingers turn green every time you influence the floras. he remembered you calling the group to help you move the pots of plants you bought for your balcony garden; just like how you teach the boys how to garden back on the island. but he can’t lie. he felt intimidated by them and how they can care for you where he can’t. how your attention stays on them but not to him.

he used to experience the same headache, but because of his resilient soul from all the pain he bears, he lets it embrace him. the length of it becomes so short that it is now so swift and disperses instantly as his old life’s memories come back again. and with the small reminder of your life with him back on that island, he notices the head-crushing headache you’ve experienced. but by the way you cower. it’s much more painful than what he experienced—just like what he was told. he wanted to pull that pain away from you because you’ve had too much, letting him feel it instead. after all, he is already numb to it. but when you start to only get a few swaying heads instead of the difficult headaches you’ve gotten days before, he can’t help but to smile to himself—and how happy he is you’re embracing your memories back.

it will not be long until you remember him again.

when you arrived here, he played a more passive part to integrate you into the lost children. even protecting you at a point because you might not be his love that he recognizes. but when the headaches arrived, he lets you in into their culture, ways, and style—how he remembered you embrace the lost boys’ way so fast back in neverland. your own clothes blending in with their new street style, like your white dress combined with a leather corset that he stole from the pirates. he stands back and gazes at how your behavior joins in with the rest of his friends, shopping sprees in thrift shops, walking in the night with them, and now, alcohol is your recent interest. he lets out a small smile when your caring side shows up and takes care of the rest of the friend groups, giving your homemade recipe to try, helping in discussing the homework he and his friends have with your knowledge, and taking care of them when they’re sick.

just like how a grown-up is.

as he heard your story on why you have to grow up fast, he is furious. when you said you had no choice but to be like that, letting your adolescence envelop you, he wished he could have his magic back and pray to the altar before the deity that gave him the second chance to also wished for you to have a regular childhood where you can let your childishness stick within you.

he remembered the phrase “the great pan is dead“ chanted by the beings he met on the island as they see him sacrifice himself to rest, letting him succumb to his wish to be returned to you whenever it could be. he will wait an eternity just to be with you again, and that time has come.

soobin stayed at the sidelines as one of the servers, looking at the large crowd full of familiar faces dining and enjoying his campus’ victory in today’s match—a step closer to the semi and final matches. the part-timers who work here are all being brought because of the many patrons that have come, letting him finally meet the few workers you had worked with. he listened to jihoon's grunt as he returns from his run around, giving the boy a small smile as soobin gave him pats on his back right after. the music playing from the speakers is loud and booming, rattling the whole bar area where the girls are serving, including you. he grimaced when sees your tank crop top as you served college guys drink, seeing their lusty eyes on you as kook told you to have fun.

his eyes stayed on you who is having a great time, even having your own gin and tonic at the side to drink. kook wanted to let the “big guns” out for tonight that he predicted, letting the boys and girls wearing similar revealing shoes and having the island and forest vibe from the main interior thematic to stand out more—castaways having fun eating, conversing, and dancing the night away; just like he and his mates did back in his neverland. that’s when he sees more people crowding the bar area. soobin walks towards it after taking care of a few orders to see the crowded front of the bar with chaewon dancing on the bar top. she pulls suhyeon up as they walk around the bar top, seeing your wide smile from the ground before they pull you up.

he walks closer to the counter between the kitchen and the front as his eyes can’t look away from you who is dancing on the bar top, letting the alcohol break your restraints just for the night as more of the bartenders are getting busy with the many orders. you sway and dance with the music as best as you could, the yellow lights illuminate the bar reminding him of how you and the boys dance the night away back on the shore of neverland—the campfire create a perfect lighting as you and the boys dance around it.

the night went crazier. even he was brought into the craziness when he step behind the bar to see if another order is done, seeing you turn around and face him at the area as you dropped and walks towards him, speaking no words when you get him into your embrace and dance around following the music blaring from the speakers.

the crowd fades out like the sound of the waves he used to hear, his hands embracing your waist like he used to remember. the lights creating stars in your eyes like the one he remembers seeing. your hands wrapped behind his nape, bringing him closer to you. he wishes he could save this moment even under his hesitation and your forwardness because of the alcohol. he lets you go as you have to continue your work and he does too until late in the night of today and early time of tomorrow.

his back hurts from cleaning the place up, swiping the trash away with his broom as he can see all the workers lookingmessy all around, yet he couldn’t find you. soobin turns his figure towards suhyeon at the bar, cleaning up the spilt-over drinks on the wooden top, eyes blank as the alcohol effect fades out.

“suhyeon…” her eyes glance at the tall boy as she lets out a sheepish smile. “you’ve seen (y/n)?”

“uh… yeah…” she slurs. “i think she is in the restroom. she mentioned that her stomach’s hurting. probably puking from drinking too much.”

“okay. thanks…” soobin answered, hearing her teasing “for sure, papa.” before he went away.

he remembered how his friends have called him “dad” while also calling (y/n) “mom”. something he remembered the boys also called you and he in your previous life.

stepping inside the kitchen for the first time in hours, he saw felix and lia focusing on cleaning the plates first as he found the room to be much cleaner than what he expected. the door to the employee lockers—where the restroom is also located—is ajar as he steps closer, hearing his footsteps clearer before he heard a thud on a metal.

“move back, please…” soobin caught a small familiar whimper. peeking through the door, he finds someone being covered by a large man with tattoos. seeing the man move, he finally sees the person he was searching for. you.

“kook!” soobin calls as kook turns his head towards his voice with you raising your head. the frown on the man getting deeper.

“let her go.” he steps closer. your eyes widen, seeing the boy’s disorganized hair and clothes with a frown on his face. even with nearing a meter in front of him, soobin can smell the stench of alcohol on his manager much stronger than on yours.

the man lets out a wicked smile where his facial piercings make him more menacing than ever; so similar to the captain he fought against. your body is cowering more than ever before he heard you grimace. he sees your eyes wandering between the two males as soobin steps forward more and more.

“not again. i won’t let you get away with this.” soobin picked up the murmurs of kook harassing his female employees once in a while. it is only suspected that the girls in his group might be his next victim. he didn’t think it could be you. the regrets he built for letting you in with his and his friend’s way are showing again. but he won’t let the man win twice.

the drunken kook slides forward, fist high up, and soobin shielded with his forearm. punches were thrown as soobin tried to defend himself from him, getting a few cuts from the rings on his hands. the boy’s eyes drift to the papers flying as kook is thrown near it, writings on the paper, and a table full of numbers and a few lines of ink on it as soobin continue to fight against your assaulter. the man’s fist hit soobin’s nose and his head is thrown back with his body stumbling. he could feel the blood coming out of his nose as the memories of combat he learned back in his previous life come back. that’s when he picked up your whimpers as you covered your head, getting heavier and heavier.

soobin tried to reach for you as kook grabs him from behind, letting him see you scream in excruciating pain as you drop to your knees. the image of you kneeling and falling on the ship’s deck flickering in his eyes as he punches the man’s gut with his elbow before giving one last punch to his face, knocking him down onto the empty cardboard boxes that their ingredients came from.

he rushes to hold your body as your body becomes limp and your breathing shortens. the tears falling from soobin’s eyes as he sees you becoming unconscious in your white tank top work outfit. the blood running on his face drops to stain the white as he brought you up, letting your head in the crook of his neck as he sobs.

“no…” soobin begs.

“not again please, darling.” he soothes your back as he recalls what the deity said upon his wishes.

“the memories she will get of you will be accompanied by the sense of stabs being pierced into her body. she will become strong enough, but don’t bombard her with too many things as she might die from too much pain.“

“(y/n) please.” soobin sobs, resting his face on the crook of your neck. your skin is cold against his warm touch.

that’s when he sensed something caressing the side of his body, rubbing the side of his abdomen before he leans away. your hand smoothes down on his red-splatted white tank as he brought his eyes to yours, hearing you mumble unintelligible words when you open your eyes, seeing the tears flowing down the corner of your eyes when he sees your eyes enlarged.

“it’s you,” he heard you mumble, raising the hand that startled him to his face, letting it caress his wounded cheekbone as you can’t close your mouth tight. your body shook as you mumbled.

“it’s you, pan.”

“you remember me? do you remember us, darling?” soobin whispered as he sees you nod.

-

it’s weird to learn again about someone you used to love, especially with your fragmented mind now being whole with the epiphany that you’ve experienced in soobin’s arms. in pan‘s arms. as you remembered everything, even with your current situation close to his warm figure, your knowledge of the world transforms from within you. you couldn’t rebut anything as the doors of your memories are unlocked one by one.

but you can’t bear to let it out to the boy holding you. could you trust him? is he the boy that you knew? the boy that brought you to the island? the boy who held you in his arms as your light dims along with your fading life?

your trembling body sat up against soobin’s thighs. you try your best to wipe the blood off his face before he hugs you so tight, it took your breath away. in the circumstances that you live in, memories of your moments with him show up more and more when you let soobin hold your face in both of his palms. you now recognized why you’ve felt a certain way with the forest in your grandma’s back garden, the boys you adore in your fairytale book. it’s because of him. it’s because of him and the boys you lived with on the island that your grandma read and you imagined in your mind.

his eyes glisten with tears as he leans in and give you a peck on your cheek. yet you don’t know how to react. should you wrap your arms around him? should you pepper his face with kisses? should you grimace away as you try to collect yourself, hurting him instead?

soobin leans back as you stare into his eyes before letting them fall away, turning to see kook’s body laying on the floor. he follows you, hands unclench from your body as he relieves you.

“did kook touch you? i swear if he did then-“

“he...” licking your lips, you compose yourself. pushing your thoughts to the ones created before memories of him come back. “he is drunk, soobin. it’s- he is trying to tell me something but in a jumbled way. then my head hurts once again. i tried to tell him to give me space. he then pressed forward yet he couldn’t articulate his words to me. that’s when you came.” you look towards soobin before back at your boss.

soobin lets out a sigh as he helps you stand up and lean against the surface. he goes to his locker to take out his phone and call someone as you stare at the scattered paper on the floor that is supposed to be your job to analyze—papers that kook pushes for you to hold. you see something in his eyes grow like a person just realizing something out of horror. it's as if he was forcing you to pick it up with his unintelligible voice. or that he could be in danger. with your weak body but subsiding pain, you scoot down and gathered the messy papers in your hands so that you could put them in your bag and analyze them back home.

footsteps are heard on the floor above you, approaching the stairs. mingyu steps down from his office area, seeing his friend hammered on the floor before gazing at soobin’s battered face and you behind your locker door. your boss shakes his head as he helped pick his friend up from the ground. soobin approaches to help as you look at kook’s hair covering his face, the rings that decorate his hand covered with a tiny bit of crimson coming from being in contact with the younger boy’s face.

“he will forget this the next day.” mingyu juts his chin to his friend. “close the pub for me tonight, okay?”

you and soobin nodded as mingyu lets his friend be held upright by the boy before going up the floor and packing their stuff. the room is too quiet that you can even hear your breathing, even kook’s who you know is alive but unconscious.

the rest of the workers stare as they watch both of the bosses walking out with soobin helping kook into a cab before it goes into the dead of the night. a few of them give a glance at you and how you also have blood on your white top as chaewon approaches you, not as sober as you are now who has conflicted thoughts.

“did- did he touch you in a way? cause if he did, i’ll punch him in the nuts for y-“

“he didn’t.” you’re piecing the long story into a short one to tell her in that short moment. “he’s drunk and soobin stopped him before he did anything that threatens me,” you replied, feeling another hand wrap around to find jaemin trying to hold you up as soobin returns inside, telling the others to continue cleaning up. you just want to think about anything else other than your newly discovered memory of your fairytale-like life.

when all six of you went home, soobin stayed beside you at all times as your brain sobered up, you see jihoon and jaemin helping chaewon and suhyeon each. your heart beats inside you as you don’t know what to say to the boy that “save” you late in the night—you’re not going to be surprised if dawn is approaching minutes away.

staying back from the crowd, you perceived soobin’s hand wrap around your shoulders, his defined muscles resting on them as he guide you home while the others stayed at the front.

you and the rest of the girls giggles as you stood in the moving elevator with the rest of the boys just letting out a small smile between the reflective interior of the walls. all of you helped each other settle one by one as you visit their apartments, you’ve visited chaewon and suhyeon’s before—when all of you tried the clothes you’ve bought—but you’ve also now seen the living areas of jihoon and jaemin for the first time. each of them having a distinct style that is so “them” respectively before you said goodbye and return to the hallway of your apartment along with your next-door neighbor.

when you see pan after a long while with your rowdy friends, you can’t help to feel a tug in your heart as soobin’s shoulders sag when he faces you. you stood in the middle of the hallway when you step towards your door.

your thoughts wrapped around each other. but you want to straighten up one by one and make your faint pain stop. and you knew who can.

“can i stay with you? today has been overwhelming and i just realized who you are and such. it’s…” your voice trails out as soobin steps and wraps your wrist with his hand.

“of course, you can.”

“okay,” you replied with a faint voice.

“i think you should put your stuff back at your place before you stay at mine,” he spoke out.

you look between him and your door as you nod and step away from him to go to your home. putting your shoes on the rack, you immediately go take a shower and scrub away the blood stain seeping into your top as best as you could. staring at yourself in the mirror, you wear a loose oversized t-shirt and pyjama pants that you always wear for the night. your footsteps take you towards your front door before you heard a rustling behind you. turning around, you find the plants’ leaves hitting the glass barrier of the inside and the balcony.

almost forgot. you said to yourself as you approached your watering can and poured water in it before you walked to your balcony. letting the water hydrate them, you let out a hum that grandma usually sings to make them happier and more energized. you recognize sprout’s moves as it takes the lead to dance like how you see grandma’s plants also do, making you giggle as the other plants try to follow it. not recognizing the notion, but at least attempting to.

“grow well for me, okay?” you mumble to them as you spot a moth landing on top of one plant, seeing its beautiful yet aggressive-looking patterned wings fluttering before resting on the leaf under the moonlight. looking as familiar as ever that you’re going to pin it to your mind to take a picture of it so you could identify its species. as you silently greet it, you then step inside and turn your lights off to let the moon shines inside and return to soobin’s front door. it is always a thing that grandma also teaches you as a moth travels with the moon lighting the night sky as its point of navigation. with all the unnecessary lights off at your grandma’s home, it won’t let the moths be attracted to other light sources—their biggest killer.

hearing the muffled ring from behind the door, your eyes switch between starting at the camera lens on the door and the wooden material of the door before you heard the familiar yet faint sound of the beep. the door opens into the small silver of a dark hallway.

“darling.” you heard the recognizable voice calling you as you could see soobin emerging from the darkness in a more loose white t-shirt and sweatpants. the short sleeves covered his shoulder, unlike the sleeveless tank he wore back at the pub. your eyes wander before staring at the wounds on his face which looks untreated and a dark-purplish area around his nose

“can i patch you up?” you murmured. it has always been second nature to you to heal something like healing plants from their sickness with the knowledge grandma taught you. yet, a certain push comes as your vision is cut off by a memory of you patching him and the lost boys up—pushing you to ask.

“yeah, you can.” he then pushes his hand forward for you to hold, which you put yours in carefully before he pulls you into the darkness.

when you enter, only small patches of light cover the living room, resembling fireflies you’ve regularly watched in your backyard garden since you were a child. and the fireflies you encounter back with pan as you both travel the forest under the raven sky. but it’s lit enough for you to see the sheer size of the main area. his apartment is bigger than yours as you scan the room filled with his paraphernalia that makes it pretty homey but youthful as well. your head turns towards him as he stayed quiet, letting you take a few minutes following empty walls to find the kitchen and a small dining table that is also larger in space than yours.

you knew about his childhood back in your “previous life”; the painful story that came to mind with a sense of concern. but you don’t know if he lives the same one in this life as well. if so, how did he get the money to buy all this stuff here?

footsteps follow him as he opens a door to his bedroom—all the units here only have one bedroom each—as you can find it is decorated in a more natural-looking style. a slab of wood sticks onto his wall, combining it with a few posters of musicians you recognized. his room looks a like a forest with the dark green accent wall behind his bed. the swirls of darker green created a shadow that looks like trees are planted and standing tall in his room. you view soobin, who is walking to his bathroom and opening its door.

“wait for me. i’ll search for the first aid kit.”

“i will,” you said back as you see the stream of light coming out of the bathroom.

your eyes travel onto the decorations littering his room. the way you recognized a few of the neverland-themed items is amazing: conch shells, glass bottles filled with colored sand, and a framed map of “neverland” like the one he had before with him, even to the way the map pictured the geography. you notice a pretty large piece made of glass shaped like a vase near the window of his room, hoses connecting to as it lets more than one people can use them in a single try. they continue to wander to his wardrobe and tables, clothes thrown on the floor but collected in a pile—reminding you of his pile back in the cave you called home.

you glimpse at his upright laptop of his on the desk with a notebook and an open book he marked on. stepping to approach it, you stepped onto something small as you look down at the night-lighted room to see something red. picking it up, you recognize it immediately. a swiss army pocket knife just like what you have; or what you had because you haven’t found yours in a while now.

as you placed the pocket knife on the desk, you heard the bed creaking, making you turn around to gaze at soobin sitting at the edge. his eyes go to you as he lets out a wide smile, the cuts and bruises on his face obscured by the small light source by his bedside table. your footsteps gliding you in front of the boy as you looked at the first aid kit beside him on the mattress.

“you didn’t patch it up on purpose, did you?” his eyebrows raised hearing your words, and his smile widen before he lets out a nod, earning a giggle from you: grinning like a child would when they’re caught doing something. you lean in to get the first aid kit and open it to pinpoint the basic medicines to help remedy his cuts. his bruise might need to be compressed with ice to let it heal later.

grabbing the antiseptic, you squeeze it out onto his cuts in tiny bits. his teeth gritting and breath hitches as you brush the medicine around with your fingers and let it spread to cover the wounds. you found three cuts on his face, one on his left cheek, one on his right jaw, and one on the bridge of his nose as you patch them up one by one. your heart palpitates inside of you when you caught soobin’s eyes staying on your moving ones—letting you catch him multiple times and he catches yours if you’re curious enough. soobin let his legs open to make it easier for you to stand closer to patch him up, his hands hanging near your waist.

“you know.” your eyes landed on his. “this reminds me of when you put those leaves on me to help with the sunburn on my face.” soobin spoke as you paused your action of smoothing down the strip on his nose. remembering clearly the moment he mentioned.

you were sitting underneath the coconut tree when you watch him and the boys playing kick the empty coconut. the sun was so bright that day, unnaturally bright as sweat even shows on your skin. yet, they played with no complaints. but when the boys return to the cave, you went to check on soobin to see him frowning. his cheeks have darkened a few shades.

“it’s stinging me,” you remembered his comment as you realized the sun had burnt him. your mind instantly thinks of one plant you remember that has a soothing component in its moisture that could help him.

soobin follows you as he puts on his signature white outer garment into the nearby edge of the forest you and taehyun forage in. the plants greet you as you asked them the specific plant you’re searching for, pointing the way to the specific plant you need as you stood in front of it. asking it permission, it lets go of two of its leaves as you help it grow back the leaves with your green fingertips.

pan was sitting on the small boulder as he stares at you doing your own thing before you step between his legs, letting his hand hold you by your lower waist. so intimate, you thought. you remembered as you can hear his sighs from the cooling sensation meeting his burning skin, letting both of your thumbs caress the leaves down on his cheekbones as he looks at you with love in his eyes.

just like what he is showing to you now.

you smooth the strip to let it stick before tilting back to see his face clearly. his eyes still hold that familiar loving gaze at you that is giving you a shiver, but you don’t know how you can reciprocate it with everything that is crossing your mind now.

nibbling your bottom lip, you move to sit beside soobin as you help pack the first aid kit back before putting it on your lap. a long sigh comes from you as something grasps onto your hand, looking down to see his on yours. with the way he touches and soothes you, you want to reciprocate so badly. but the doubt comes in once again as your mind is still in a mess from tonight’s incident and your unanswered questions are answered all at the same time, at the same moment.

“i…” you sucked your breath before turning your head towards the blond boy. “i miss you so much.” his fingers tangling with yours.

“i miss you too,” he replied before you shift your head towards him. the emotions you’re experiencing are overwhelming. the way each memory now comes to you is not with pain but with ease is perplexing when you now remember who he is.

“i should’ve remembered you when i heard the name soobin and your blond hair, realizing it was the same blond hair being represented in a book with the title pan,“ you whispered, letting giggles out from him. the sky is dark outside but it calms you both down when a yawn emerges from you. turning around, you listen to his chuckle as you let him pull you.

soobin opens his duvet to let you in as you lay down on his bed, which is bigger than yours. your body was stiff as you stare at the dim and now dark ceiling as soobin turns the lamp off. your eyes adjusted to the room as the light from outside the window helps you to see. movements on the bed making you more alert as you can feel your heart wanting to jump out of your chest. your hands are tugged above the duvet when you perceive his now familiar touch grasping yours once again, making you turn your head towards the boy who has his body turned sideways towards where you sleep.

following him, you let the light from the outside caress the side of his body. his face relaxes as you lean in closer towards him, letting your free hand reaches to him and caress his face—the different texture of his soft skin to the strip that covers his wound.

“you must be waiting so long for me to remember if you knew about us,” you speak your thoughts as he replied with a hum.

“i was. but it was worth it. i want to have you back in my arms again when i finally knew who moved next door. but when you don’t react the same, i knew i should take a long route.” soobin replied, leaning his cheek into your palm.

“i feared that you won’t remember me.” he lets out a sentiment before he lets go of your hand and let it trail up to place underneath your jaw, letting him caress your neck as he can feel how your pulse is so quick because of him.

“is it only us who knows this? i’ve been putting a peg on the lost children and how similar they are to the lost boys. even kook and mingyu too with hook and his first mate.” you questioned. soobin’s eyes cast downwards as you waited.

“only we know. their aura and demeanor resemble them, but i don’t think they remember anything. maybe it’s because their look is not the same as us who are, piece by piece, the same person,” he answered, hearing the rustling on his bed as you scoot closer. wanting no one to hear about this, as it is only both of you who know this deep secret in your life.

every memory of him comes back right this instance and how you spend many nights like this. talking instead of sleeping as your curious mind melts in with his curious mind; child-like curiosity that lets you figure out the world with open eyes.

“how do you know this could happen?” you let out a question you were dreading. with all the things you have faced in your life, you didn’t know you also have one before it. that’s why you’re so attracted to pan and the boys, because they are your friends. after all, they are your family, and because pan is yours to call.

“do you remember how you believe in another chance in life?”

your breath hitches and your eyes widen as you stare at soobin.

“this is it. isn’t it?” you mumbled as soobin lets out his signature dimpled smile.

“and i knew that i’ll find you again, right?” soobin replied as you nod, letting him move you closer as you rest your forehead against him. letting his warmth combine with yours and envelop both of you as your tired body can finally rest.

“how do i know i should trust you?” you mumbled as you felt soobin’s breath combining with yours. finger trace your jaw before cupping your cheek.

“may i kiss you?” he asked gently before you let out a small nod, letting your nose tip touch his before he tilts and slot his lips into yours.

the kiss was gentle, yet familiar. the memory of your first kiss in the middle of the forest comes back as he asked you to stay. the memories of neverland from the joy to the sorrow coming back, as it finally landed on the time you die in his arms. recognizing the distinct warmth that is his once again.

you close your eyes as you sleep near his face—letting your nose and lips near his, you listened to the sound of calm rolling waves once again for the first time in your life. the sound that always comforts you when you sleep in soobin’s arms.

“you can always trust me.”

-

“i knew something was going on between the two of you.” suhyeon pointed with her forefinger at you who was sprawling on the couch of chaewon’s apartment. your t-shirt sticking to your skin with your legs almost giving out on your way home. a tired smile shows on your face as you gaze at the boy sitting beside you, letting out his sheepish smile and resting his arm around your shoulders. the sound of ice cubes and lemon in the glass of gin and tonic on your hand shakes as you giggle with your other three tipsy friends.

you trusted soobin’s words as it was the last vibration you heard before you push into your next phase of sleep. you believe that he’s telling the truth as you woke up from a great slumber and greet him to see he made your breakfast that day. and since that day, you try to rekindle your love for him back.

it’s admiring, really. how patient soobin is with your relationship as he helps you remember things and reminds you of things he did with you back on the island, even exchanging mementoes you recall with each other. you really want to tell the others how they are back on the island, but soobin stops you as he doesn’t want them to hurt you if they say they don’t remember.

“i’ve tried hinting it to them but there’s no use. they won’t remember.“ soobin complained.

so you let go of that notion and let your relationship with soobin bloom once again.

he has taken you on three dates where only the two of you are present. one of them is at his campus. he lets you stay with him at the library while he is doing an assignment—letting you chime in with your opinions that could help as you give him a few kisses on his head for encouragement.

your second date was when he took you to watch a play hosted by his campus theater club. the handbook they gave you says it’s a rendition of a midsummer night’s dream and soobin rambles more because this play is the one he analyzed last semester. you let out a chuckle as you see how his eyes gleam in glee as he stares at the actors performing on stage, even mumbling out a few lines he remembered. you kiss him on his jaw as you try to stop his jaw from dropping from the performance, lighting, sound effect, and many more.

the last date was when he and you set up a picnic at the park after both of your shifts at the pub is finished for the day. you finally discover the food he was making as you weren’t allowed to enter the kitchen—your rotating job that day was as one of the servers.

back when he and the rest of your friends visited your unit for dinner, you told him how the foods you made are from your grandma’s recipe book she wrote for herself and for you to keep—showing them the book as they discover the various foods in them. you didn’t realize that soobin took pictures of a few of the recipes to be your menu for the picnic. you were in awe at how similar the taste it before soobin showed it to you, letting laugh in the middle of the night at the empty park.

then, he lets you try a few puffs of his cannabis vape too as you share a bud of his earphones. psychedelic music playing.

“it’s gonna be trippy but you should relax your mind and let it take you away,“ he chimed.

your mind flew to other places with your hyperawareness. the touch of the grass is much sharper but you sensed something more as it energized you, letting the sound of the music enters one ear and the other hear the rustling wind against the leaves. soobin’s giggles almost all the time as your mind calms down before you’re being brought into a giggle fit you don’t know how to stop. letting your head rest on soobin’s shoulder as you stare at the view of the empty lot and the sound of a running stream from the bridge near where you sat.

remembering the nights you had with him just like this, even with your friends.

your plants seem to recognize the blooming feelings you have been feeling, and it surprises you how your potted plants and even the vines have flowers on them. some of them even grew a fruit which they let you pick.

that was the first time you recognized just how strong your emotions influence your connection to the plants and how with them in their flowering phase along with you, more butterflies and moths have gathered at your balcony as they eat the pollen and help spread it. you can’t help but also connected to the critters too as more and more came, remembering what grandma said, “you are one of them too, darling.”

and the thought that maybe they’re your ancestors crossed your mind as you see three distinct monarch butterflies always resting in your sanctuary.

this morning, before you went out with your friends, you find the three monarch butterflies you give the plants their nutritional needs when one landed on your hand as the other two follow. one of them is sitting on your green fingertips as if it knows how it does too.

“hey, grandma,” you spoke to the critter as it flutter its wings, happy that you recognized her too. you speak around with the butterflies—your mom and grandpa—when you see another color on the sprout. taking your attention away, you stare at the sight. its body larger than butterflies, a moth. you’ve seen this moth before with its distinct colors. a moth that you now recognized after getting help from a forum. the same moth that shows up in your backyard garden when you and grandma are drinking tea together, seeing it perched on top of the kettle.

“grandma, what is this one?” you point your fingers to the creature as it flutters its wings, greeting you.

“oh, this one.” grandma’s eyes glance upwards as she thinks. “i believe this is the garden tiger moth. you can see how its wings have a pattern similarly shown on a tiger’s or panther’s fur, right?”

you nodded as it flies and landed on your thigh. “hey, little one.”

“hey, little one,” you muttered as you look at it moving around on sprout’s petals. you have never seen this one in a while since that day and you surely don’t understand how it goes to your balcony in the morning sun where it should sleep with its companions. maybe, it has visited your balcony more than you know as it’s comfortable with it.

“i’ll let all of you stay with the moth, okay?” you push your hand out as the butterflies follow your others and rest on the leaves, saying your farewell before going with your friends.

you had a great time going to a music festival together as soobin stayed by your side at all times, openly telling the others that you are together right. which you both silently confirmed as you rested in chaewon’s apartment for another round of drinks.

“is that why soobin pushed me to cook up the other orders a few days ago? you were preparing her a meal?” suhyeon jokingly groans as jihoon nudges her, winking to let them know he knows.

“i was the one beside him when he took a picture of (y/n)’s grandma’s recipe,” he said before jaemin cuts him.

“then why didn’t you tell us? we could help be your wingmates, you fuck,” the tattooed boy comments, making all of you laugh as you put a hand on his shoulder.

“it’s okay. we’re both happy together now. with and without a wingman helping us.” you reassure him as you heard suhyeon’s mumbling “but i want to be your wingwoman, soob.”

“okay, i owe the four of you something now.” soobin replied as the others giggle including those who sees soobin slapping his forehead.

as you finished the rest of your glass, you finished your time together as all of you retire to your abode. you wanted to walk to yours when you sensed soobin tugging your arm, letting the force bring you to him as he wrapped his hands around your clavicle for a tight hug.

that’s when you perceived something hard against your lower back.

his breath brushes your earlobe as he traces it with his lips. your eyes enlarged as your hands reached his arms and grasp them, feeling something bubbling inside you. soobin’s lips trace your exposed neck before going up once again to the side of your ear as he whispers.

“i need you.”

your eyebrows are raised as you tug his hands off your body, letting you turn around as you tilt your head. you and soobin didn’t drink as much as the others, you are mostly sober with a slight buzzing on your head. yet his hooded eyes stare at yours with something different igniting inside him. his hand trails down to rest behind your shoulder as he pulls you into his vicinity.

“you need me?” you questioned as you let yourself get influenced by him, putting your palms on his biceps as your body rubs against his. the way your black graphic t-shirt blend in with his—the lost children’s style influence yours as you put away your light green and beiges to use darker greens instead. if you let your old self sees you, you might have been a much different person. almost unrecognizable. a gin and tonic lover who went out almost every night and hangs out with a crowd who are not in your realm. but this is what you understand as “spreading your wings.”

and you are spreading yours to embrace soobin.

“i want you. i need you. i crave you. i-“

you slammed your lips to his. your hands climbing up to his shoulder before pulling his head closer, tugging his soft blond hair as he nibbles your bottom lip, earning a quaint whine from you. your hands trail to cup his face as his tongue infiltrates inside your mouth to greet yours, letting it dance with each other as you can’t help about your muffled moans.

both of you are heaving as you let go. soobin’s lips are smeared with your purple matte lipstick—courtesy of jihoon’s recommendation as chaewon and suhyeon are arguing between the two swatches they chose for you. his hair and t-shirt are dishevelled from your grip as he jutted his chin between your door and his door, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“yours,” you replied as soobin lets out a smirk and wrap his hand around your wrist before pulling you to him as he punches the numbers in.

both of you stumble in as you tried your best to take your shoes as fast as you can, hearing soobin’s giggles as you throw your bag on his couch before you turn around to his gigantic silhouette illuminated by the few lamps on in the living room. he strides toward you and encompasses you in his arms, letting his lips return to their rightful place on yours. you perceived how his touch is seeping through the fabric of your top as he holds you where your ribcage is. you patted your hands down his front before meeting the end of his shirt. pulling upwards, soobin stretches his arms up high as you finally see his bare chest and abdomen after a long while.

you remembered viewing the exact thing as in neverland—especially with his signature dirty long white outer garment draping on his shoulder. his muscles are there and it’s enough for anyone to realize how fit he is without added effort and making him bulky. his figure looks more ethereal under the faint moonlight and yellow light coming from the lamps, making him look much more inhuman, especially with his unnaturally blond hair. your hand trails down his pectorals as he is trying his best not to push away from shivers, instead he lets his forehead and nose rub against yours as you trace the ridges on his body, in between his muscles on his abdomen and side.

it took you too long to admire his body quietly as you sensed his hands holding onto your hip, tugging your oversized t-shirt out of your pants. he gives you a peck before lifting the material as you let him. his eyes trace how your chest is covered in a sports bra—your favorite type of bra because of the freedom movement you get. you knew how unsexy it is but he didn’t care as he leans in to kiss your lips before trailing down to your jaw, neck, collarbone, the expanse of skin right above where your breasts are. biting your lip, both of your hands tug lightly on his hair as he bits lightly on your skin, seeing faint darkness form because of him and the dark purple makeup leaving a trail because of your lipstick stain on his lips. you let out a breathy moan as he trails his nose back up to the junction between your neck and collarbone.

“remember how i mark you here?” he whispered before giving a small kiss.

“yeah…” your hands trail down to hold his hands in yours before you felt him suck on the exact spot he gave to you in your previous life. a moan left out from you as your head remembers the memory simultaneously as he did it to you now. the night’s darkness masked both of you as the bonfire burns the remaining firewood when your curiosity caught you. you never told your parents how you knew about this stuff but it seems it’s a natural phase if you love someone. soobin lets the boys sleep elsewhere—something he rarely allows as he wants all of them to be secure—just to get you both alone and make love.

“can’t wait any longer,” he groans, pulling away as he caught you by surprise. soobin lifts you from the floor and carry you in a bridal pose. you let out a quick shriek, almost falling off before looping your hand around his shoulder.

his foot pushes the open bedroom door wider as best as he could before the sound of it slamming against the frame shocked you from the force of his foot, making you frown as he puts you to the ground before he lets out small apologies, peppering more kisses on your face. soobin smiles when you reciprocate and attached your lips back to his as his warm palm caress your bare skin. his hand tugs the end of your sports bra as he pulls it up. the tight yet flexible material is gripping onto your skin as he pulls it away, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

“i miss these two,” he mumble before attacking your left boob and cupping the other one with his free hand. your giggles subside as the pleasure wins once again. soobin continues his attack on your breasts with your hands helping his own trail down your body before cupping your jean-covered cheeks. your breathy moans are getting more rampant as he pushed more, one of his hands moves forwards to cup your core at the front as you rub it against him.

“it feels good to know you want me too.” soobin muttered. his touch, even with the layers, makes shivers run down your spine.

“i miss you too, pan. so much,” you replied, his hands unbuttoned your pants before he pushes you to the edge of the bed. your hands pushing your upper body up so you could see him crouching down and pulling your jeans off of you. your legs automatically helped, straightening them as your skin meets the room’s temperature. you lean your head back as his lips trail kisses from your ankles to your knees before to your inner thighs, your body jitters from the tickles and shivers. your hands fell out and now holding your body up by your forearms, you gaze down to watch him getting closer and closer to your core, squirming in his hold when you sensed his breath touching your wet underwear. he leans in and gives a small kiss to your covered core when you felt yourself gushing more.

“so wet.” he lets his nose tip caress your covered slit and clitoris before he sniffs. “you smell like flowers.”

his thumb rubs onto your nub—“he remembered” the words came into your thoughts—before looking up to find your face casting down on him. your body turns putty in his hold as your jaw slackens from how good it is

“darling. my darling,” you whine as he called you by your nickname, a faint slap of your underwear band that he pulled meets your skin as you catch his smug and darkened eyes resembling a much stronger look you hope you are showing to him. soobin’s hand encases your body between the bed and his body as he pulls your panty down, expecting him to throw it before you see him tugging it into his back pocket. his nose scrunches as he looks at your stunned face before he leans down as gives you a short yet satisfying kiss.

“go up the bed,” he commands. you scoot yourself up to his bed, sitting cross-legged as you wait for him who is standing by it. his gaze lands on you as if you were a piece of sculpture in the middle of a museum. he unfasten his pants as fast as he could and you notice his dark gray boxer with an outline and a dark spot at the end of it. you swallow your drool as you remember the first and only time you ever had a man’s member inside you. it was his. and you can’t even wrap your palm around him fully.

you exhale as he pulls his boxers off and his cock sprang up; the blood rushing down to his member as he senses the arousal all around him. soobin leans in and crawls onto the bed with you. you thought he was going to push you down and trap you under him like the last time you had intercourse on the island. he chuckles at your bewildered face as he lays down with his head on his pillow, facing up along with his cock standing tall. your mouth opens as you wanted to ask before he cuts you.

“come sit on my face.”

“i- what?” your eyebrows crease as soobin leans up and grabs your waist, handling you as you sit scoot closer to his head.

“please? you smell so good and i want to devour you. i couldn’t forgive myself if i don’t.” soobin said as you bit your lip.

“i don’t want to suffocate you, soob-“

“you will not suffocate me. i’ll hold your hips up.” he nods his head, trying to convince him. your gaze continues downward as you see his length twitch, the blood pumping into it. you as you let out a nod before you sit on your knees.

“face my dick, darling.” he returns to command. you carefully hover above his face, placing your other knee on the other side of his head. soobin’s hands come to resting on top of your thighs as he drags you down. you let out a breathy moan as his nose tip grazes your lower lips, making you lean forward and rest your hand on his abdomen.

“just like that, yes.” soobin murmured as you lean your body more forward, almost meeting his curving long length. your body trembled when you felt something wet against your lower lips. you tried your best to turn around, yet your physique doesn’t allow it. your jaw slackens and moans come out in a quiet and timely manner. as his tongue moves around and he gives a suck on your clit.

you leaned forward and trail your hand up to his erect cock, a hum coming from him as the slurping sound continues. you wanted to focus on pleasuring him too. that’s when you catch the drops of pre-cum coming out of him. this turns him on. this is also a pleasure for him.

your thumb reaches for the tip of his dick as you rub the liquid down on the tip. your body wants to grind on his face because of how sensitive you are as he holds your thighs down, not helping you at all. you lean down and see how the liquid looks like a bead of pearl, letting the tip of your tongue touches his head as you picked up his muffled groan from between your thighs. one of your hands reaches to wrap around his member as best as you can—still as big as ever as you remember it with how there is a gap even in your hold. you lean forward more as soobin’s grip on you slacken to let you rest your tummy against his skin, trailing your tongue up from the base to the tip of his head.

“hmm… fuck…” you mumbled as something pierced through your lower lips before his tongue returned. his digit pushes in then pulls out in a small rhythm as you tried to follow it with the hand stroking his dick, resting your lips against his tip before you wrapped them around it, enveloping the very top of it as soobin continues.

the build-up gets higher and higher as time goes on. edging closer and closer.

your body quivers as he added another finger in, making you cum without even warning him. but soobin’s groan tells you otherwise as he devours your release. as he pushed deeper and scissors you to prepare for him, you swallow more of him as best as you can, the edge of your mouth hurting from stretching it so much. your tongue caressing the side of his cock as you felt it at the back of your mouth. when your gag reflex reacts, you pulled him out and focus on breathing as soobin enters one more finger.

“ahh, soob-“ you moan. your nails gripping his skin creating crescent-shaped marks on his thighs as you lean forward and help stimulated him. soobin’s muffled howl continues as you finally hear him clearly. his head leans back on the pillow as he finally let you focus on him.

“fuck. i need to feel you more,” he spoke, pulling you off of him as you place yourself beside him. your hand is still stroking his cock. his face tilts to you as you continue. the way the pre-cum falls and mixes with your saliva is perfect lubrication. your eyes gaze and meet soobin with the same lustful gaze looking back at you.

you move around and straddle his lap. your folds touching his exposed skin, caressing the side of his cock. sitting on it enough so it stays in between you and his abdomen.

“shit. you’re so beautiful,” he commented as you tilt your head and enjoyed yourself grinding on him. your face turns as you sensed the sensation of the caress before it lands on a mirror sticking to the door of his wardrobe. even with how small you are from how far it is, you can see how you look like. well, how unrecognizable you are with your melting eye makeup and smeared lipstick combined with saliva and drool, resembling soobin’s lips under you as he left a mark on yourself, staining your thighs with the color on your lips.

you gnaw your bottom lip as you hold yourself up with your knees, grabbing soobin’s length as he reaches his hands out to caress your thighs.

“i love you, soobin,” you murmured. fly high much more above the clouds.

“i love you too, (y/n),” he replied as his tip nudge your prepared core and you let it slip in you. soobin’s hands move to your waist as your body trembles. the familiar feeling you recognize will only subside if you continue. and how you want to continue because of him. only him.

you felt him deeper as you let your butt touches his thighs. the way his grip on you tightens as you hold yourself up, both of your hands on his chest now. his eyes looking at you with stars in them, the moon shining perfectly on the side of his face, with the lamp’s color combining into a beautiful hue. you let out a muffled whine from how full you are because of him. the desire scouring inside you makes you want to bounce on him. but as you prepare, soobin’s eyebrows furrowed.

“you’re okay with this? it’s been a long time since we did this.” his gaze is full of lust but also cautious, rubbing your butt as it trails to where he can trace your lower lips widening to let his cock in, making you squirm.

“i don’t want to hurt you.” his ever-changing demeanor makes you melt in his arm.

“i- i can,” you spoke, moving on him slowly as his hold moved to your waist. even with the slow drag of you lifting your hips up and down on his shaft, both of you enjoy it. his thumb reaches up and caresses your right nipple, making you move your hands to his shoulder as you lean forward, letting your hips move on his length.

soobin reaches for your fallen hair and pushes it away from your face, letting his palm cup your cheek as his thumb caresses your lips before he pushes it in. you moaned around his digit as you continue to move on him, feeling his tip right at the edge of your entrance before falling down onto him in quick succession.

“that’s right. you feel so fucking good,” he mumbled as you nod your head, sucking on his thumb as you felt the other one rubbing your clit.

“ah! fuck!” you squeal. soobin moves his free hand to your upper back to push you closer. his tongue pushes out and circles your areola before sucking one nipple. your head turns down to see him marking your breasts. his blond hair tickles your nose as you sniff it, smelling a faint wood scent as you are being stimulated by many things. his shaft filling you, his thumb rubbing your nub, and his tongue and teeth giving dark spots on your chest.

your hips faltered as you let out a louder moan than usual, facing the headboard as you breathe as best as you can.

“hold on to me,” soobin whispered as you lower yourself on him and looked at his face. your hands grip his muscled arms as he bucks himself into you. his heels on the mattress and knees touching your thigh as he thrust up into you. you let your body succumb to him.

“that,” you reach to hold his jaw. “fuck. that feels so good.” you moan as you stare at soobin’s smirk, a dimple on his cheek as he reaches his hand to pull your hair back.

“you’re clenching on me so good. make this pussy mine. made it just for me,” he mumbled before slackening his hold. your forehead touches his as you lean down and kiss him hard. your moans are muffled as he quickens his pace, breathing and groans mixing with each other. eyes only focusing on his face.

“you’re mine,” he spoke, changing his pace into a slower one, but he slams deep in one push. your spent body taking him in as it gets deeper and deeper. his hand rubs your lower stomach and pushes it, feeling his enormous cock inside of you.

“say it back,” he said with a lower register.

“i’m yours.”

soobin groans as he pushes himself up and sat up with you on him. he attacks your neck as he lifts your hips up, thrusting upwards as you felt your g-spot being hammered multiple times and becoming much more sensitive. your eyes gaze at the mirror, meeting soobin’s backside as his muscles contort to hold you and push into you. his lips take bites into your skin as your nails caress down the expanse of his back.”

“say it again.”

“i’m yours. i’m yours,” you mumbled those words like a mantra as soobin expertly moves your hips with just his strength. more marks bloom on your torso and your neck as your nails scratch his skin, claiming him as yours too.

you pull soobin’s head from your body as you face his determined and lusty face. his eyebrows furrowed as you trace it with your thumb.

“you’re,” a thrust makes you moan. “mine too, r-right?”

“darling. i’m always yours forever.” he gritted his teeth as he said that, more determined than ever as you push your lips to him. your mouth slotted open as he pushes his tongue with yours. drools fall out of the edge of your lips as you chase your high. his thrusts continue as you meet your hips with his with the energy you still have.

“fuck!” you shriek. “i’m gonna cum!” you warned him unlike last time as you pant along with him.

“cum with me. i’m following you,” he mumbles as his eyes glance straight to yours and nowhere else. your hand resting on his nape as you look at how purple soobin’s lips are from your lipstick, faint black streaks are there too from your melting eyeliner from swear and tears.

your mouth slacken as a loud pornographic moan came out of your voice, clenching onto his cock as your eyes roll back from the immense pleasure as you felt your cum gushing out. soobin’s thrusts faltered as he lets out a moan, your hands holding his face as he cums right after you. your inside is warm as he fills you up, pushing you down to fit him inside. but even with that, you feel both of your mixed cum leaking out of you.

both of your breathing match each other. the room is filled with your breathing sounds and sounds from you moving against him because of the moisture between your bodies. you can't hold yourself to let out a smile as you lean down and kiss him, seeing him by the beach with the sunset behind him as memories of him gushing into your brain. his hands caressing your back and trailing down your spine. foreheads sticking to each other as you let the atmosphere come down and seep into you.

you lean your body close as soobin hugs you tight on top of him. chest on chest. breath by breath as you let your eyes wander on his face. how both of you blend in with each other. how both of you are the same.

“stay with me.” his voice rings. a memory of yours rekindles, both of your feet on top of the leave-covered dirt of the forest.

“hmm?”

“stay with me. move in with me. we can live together. sleep in this bed together. cooking each other food. all of those domestic shit we can do together. we have the floor for us as our cave in neverland but i wanna be closer to you.” his tangent stops as you stare at him, your mind conflicting with the smaller voices in you. so small that it isn’t noticeable as the doubt gets bigger.

“i’ll keep you here by my side. safe. happy. until forever.” his eyes let out those same eyes you see back in neverland. soft yet determined. but something spoke to you in the back of your mind, indecipherable, but you note it.

“how about my plants? my other stuff? i can’t just let go of that after having it here for months.” you voice out the doubt as his lips pouted.

“you could always stay back to them. i’m not gonna stop you from taking care of your apartment. i want to see you wake up and go to sleep every day beside me,” he reassured, caressing your cheekbone.

“please, my darling?” he pleaded.

your furrowed eyebrows soften as you lean into his touch, and let out a hum as your mind finally made the choice.

“i’ll stay."

-

that sentence rings in your mind until it became subtle and vanishes into thin air.

you kept your word. you stay with him.

a month has passed since you agree. clothes moved to be put beside his in the wardrobe. apartment left unattended with only unneeded stuff inside and your plants you still take care of. the status of your apartment changes from a home and became more of a sanctuary, bleeding its influence of only the balcony to the inside of the clean and tidy four-walled rooms.

yet, even with you not living there, you promised yourself that you didn’t let it go. the evidence of your hard work ever since moving here will still be there. but the time you spent there isn’t as much as it used to be. you now live with soobin. and now, your apartment has become a secret garden just for you and sometimes for your friends too. if you remember it, you went. but a secret can also be forgotten.

another month has passed. moments upon moments between you, soobin and the others have become one-on-one similar to how all of you were in neverland. even you can see some similar physical traits between the others and the boys who you could now name from memory. yeonjun, beomgyu, taehyun, and kai.

and yet, you don’t have that many human connections anymore outside of them. your other co-workers seem to ignore you even though they used to be friendly towards you. you used to take a break with them during lunch break—especially with aeri and jongho—but it changed. they seem to stare at you with caution and you don’t know why.

all of that becomes more prominent when you can’t seem to go outside without the other five with you. at least one has to stay by your side as soobin allows it. you trust them as you listened to stories of thugs bothering chaewon and suhyeon, making all of you promise to stay with each other and not go out alone. soobin kept his promise to keep you safe even if he always has to be beside you.

kook only talks small words to you at work. he gives no more ledgers for you to read after the incident. mingyu also greets you with a few words before taking care of his work. it was depressing to experience that, but when you come back to your new humble abode, soobin is always there to take care of you, either by cuddling you or pleasuring you in every inch of the living room.

and now, another month later, here you are alone on the balcony of soobin’s apartment as you see the light blue swallowed by the horizon; drinking your favorite gin and tonic with only a few droplets of it left. your mind is still reeling when you heard the news that he has laid you off from neverland. kook doesn’t even bare to tell you why and you wanted to guess it is because he is ashamed for the things he treated you to but months have passed since that. there goes your safety net.

“i’ll help you pay for your living costs,” soobin replied after you confide in his safety from the layoff, wetting the work dress that he still uses from the pub a few hours ago. you didn’t understand any better—non-city native playing the game to live in the city—so you confide with the people you trust, especially soobin.

and with you having no job and being under soobin’s care. you stay around the tower most of the time, helping the other four to clean their apartment units, buying groceries for the fridge and your “family” dinner at jihoon’s place, and taking an interest in drawing from the scrapbook you remember suhyeon gave you along side taking notes—resembling the few pages you’ve filled in from months before. you’ve tried your best to draw your friends, but you knew you could do more and so you continue with that, taking it as a full-time hobby, and might become a job opportunity too. besides, what is your other hobby you love and are passionate about other than drawing and journaling?

yet even within the six of you, you can’t relate to any of their struggles anymore. college, work, getting their own money, clubs, and many more. cause of it, you felt as if you are straying away. you wanted to connect more with them, but you don’t know how to connect it, especially with the other four and all the things they have that you don’t. you tried your best to reach out to them other than hanging out. you tried, but everyone seems to ignore you. no one answers your text in the group chat and no one answers your call until your data ran out. unless you’re the one replying to them, they never replied to you. it’s like you’re in a vacuum where no one recognized you existed. yet, you don’t know how to escape the bubble.

you’ve tried to confide in soobin again but he is busy focusing on his exams coming and you don’t want to bother him for something so trivial. if soobin is nearing an exam, the other four must also be doing that. and it makes sense if they ignore you. it just makes you feel more ashamed being so clinging.

yet, even with that, it doesn’t answer why’re you feeling weird.

it feels like you've fallen out of the world, realizing it doesn’t call or care for you.

sitting by the balcony with the near-empty glass, you consider sucking the lemon to have the taste of gin and tonic in your hand again. but if the drink you were drinking represents the world you live in—no matter how uncaring it becomes to you, you will not consume it and you rather leave the slice alone; just a tiny glimpse of what the world that you used to feel again. your phone is always near you as you waited for any notifications to come and ask for you, but no one reaches out to you unless it is necessary. you are now all alone as you could only look out to the unfamiliar view.

you’re forgotten by the world. and you just realize it now.

everything was normal. but what is this?

your vision is clouded by the sense of unfamiliarity with the view behind the fence of the balcony. but that is all you could do while waiting for soobin to get home from the college’s library for a study session with the others. the food you made is laid on the dining table that is meant for the two of you. the sun sinking down from this view is not the same as the one from your sanctuary.

your sanctuary.

an epiphany crosses your mind as you stare back into the living area straight to the front door of the apartment. how could you just remember it now? you should’ve visited there if you can. but the thought of that didn’t even cross your mind for the last month you’ve been living.

thoughts also clouded your mind as doubt comes in. doing the others’ services and taking care of them didn’t make time for you to even visit your sanctuary. you don’t want to lie to yourself, but is there a reason they made you forget?

the urge for you to stay being fought with the way your heart pushes you to go back to your place. rain hasn’t come since forever as you were under soobin’s sweet words last month. words full of love and care, even with his soothing gesture to calm you down as you got your last paycheck. words that let you cling to him as a rock and the way your other four friends lift you up too.

but it doesn’t feel right.

you push yourself up as you walk and walk, ignoring his pieces of furniture as you put the glass on the coffee table and you walked out barefooted. everyone was outside, no one can stop you now.

every conversation for the last three months is running in your mind. and you found a thorough line to it: everyone on this floor seems to stop you from getting back to your own apartment. hypnotize by a force to make you stay with soobin. and they succeed. they comment in bad ways but all of them have said the same thing.

“soobin will be disappointed.”

and you didn’t want to disappoint soobin. you didn’t want to disappoint your love.

but why should you visit your sanctuary disappoint him?

yet here you are standing on the door right next to it. the alarming beep rings into your ear as you tried your best to find a hint in your mind of what the passcode is—it’s been so long since you’ve been here. your mind buzzing with worrisome before a memory knocks on its door.

“the group chat,” you mumbled to yourself, recalling a message for all of your friends’ passcode in it. opening the chat, you type the right keyword as a list of six appears. the list of passcode for all six units on the floor. you stare at yours as you make out six digits that are so familiar.

the birthdate of grandma.

“grandma…” you mumbled. it’s been a long time since you hear the word too.

the hesitation comes as fast as a shooting star as all the memories that were pushed back of yourself and your home are pulled into the limelight once again. you put the passcode in as fast as you can before barging the door open wide as you see the glimmer of the sun still enter the room from the outside. hoping to look at your clean living room and area that you left.

but what you find is different.

vines crawling inside your living room on top of your couch and all over the tiled floor as they all are reaching towards the front door. but when you inspect them closer, you didn’t feel any sense of liveness from them. all of them are dry, crumbling under your touch. your feet carefully step between the empty spaces of the growing vines as you step into your sanctuary. the sky is still lit enough to see the leaves' silhouettes, but dark enough that you didn’t instantly notice that they lost their signature green colors.

your beige pants blend in with them as you turn yourself around, seeing all the plants in the pot have wilted. strong stems and leaves crinkle with no nutrients and water. their dried leaves under you every time you took a step—inspecting how badly you’ve treated them that they’re lacking on things to live. you picked up a small shake piercing through the sunset’s wind sound, shifting to detect the source from a daisy flower with most of its petals fallen on the soil. a gasp emerges as soon as you see it and you approached the flower. you touch its stem lightly—none of the green shows up on your fingertips.

“sprout?” you mumbled to it, eyes stinging as your vision blurred from the tears after seeing what happened to your precious plant. it waves its leaf to you—a small force from anything and it will fall. you pushed your might to make your green thumb back, to at least redeem yourself helped it after having it under your care for a long time—your first plant. but after the reduced usage of it for the past three months, you didn’t know it will affect your skill this way.

these plants were supposed to be under your care and you failed. your palm opens under sprout’s leaf and a small blow pushes the leaf to fall to join the composting petals, landing on your hand. the tears break out and streak down your cheek as the magical feeling of the sanctuary dims along with the sun down the horizon. your eyes trail the vines that have entered from the balcony door when you realized what they wanted to do.

they all wanted to reach for you. to come back. but their anatomical limitations failed them.

you failed them.

your knees buckle as you sat among the plants you promised to care for, their lives dissipating from you as you didn’t care about the soil on your fingers staining your cheeks. you rub your face to wipe the tears as your guilt cascades out of you. just realizing what your carelessness has gotten to them, and what the others have stopped you from doing. breathing becomes unbearable as your head hurts. that is until you felt something caressing your hair-covered cheek.

turning towards the source, you find a moth gliding next to you. its wings flutter as you can trail the intricate motives on it.

the garden tiger moth.

it flies into your open door of the unit as your eyes watch. the urge to make you follow the critter is pushing for you to stand up and observe what is it doing in your apartment.

you pursued its silhouette as best as you can but you realize how agile it is as it enters the bedroom quickly. when you approach it slowly, you see its shadow on the wall across from you as it lands on pieces of paper on the desk. pieces of paper that used to be the ledgers you get from kook. the last one was from the day of the incident.

stepping closer, you approach it as you met its white-colored back of the paper. your hands pick the paper up as you search for what is interesting on the paper before you turn it around. your eyes catching the numbers printed with scribbled notes. all of them are crossed out multiple times as you find one that is clean. weirdly clean,

“i have to tell (y/n)…“ you read it loudly to yourself.

“go on.“

your head lifts as you searched for the voice that sounded familiar but then find no one around except for you. your eyes continue scanning the paper you find now before returning to the stack of paper. he gave you more than one sheet that night, you recalled. you pick up another one as you flipped the paper over, finding it full of marker scribbles as a few of them are readable enough for you.

i’m here to tell you, (y/n)

please believe me.

you pick up another paper to examine readable writing that you need to decipher longer before you pick up more and one last one as you turn it around. words written crashing down the ink from the printer, the numbers swallowed by the black marker’s ink as you were met with a phrase.

soobin is not what he seems to be

“soobin is not what he seems to be.” the voice sounded once again as you look back up, still finding no one as you gathered the paper in your grasp.

“who are you?” you mumbled, sniffing your runny nose from the leftover emotions you let out. you walk around your room as you near the mirror you bought along with the wardrobe. walking past it and giving a small glance, you didn’t find yourself in your beige pyjama pants and soobin’s oversized t-shirt. instead, you were met with a figure wearing a long flowy white dress. you see them barefooted as specks of red are on the ends of the dress. letting your eyes trail up, you finally discover the figure’s face.

it’s you.

you jumped before stepping closer, seeing the moth now resting on top of your head before you see yourself smile.

“i didn’t think this would work.“ you see yourself speaking from the mirror, but you didn’t even move your mouth in real life, only your reflection. the moth landed on your head as you return to the frame.

“i’ve been watching over you ever since you lived with your grandma, darling.“ you put two and two together

“who are you? and are you the moth?”

“i’m you. well, you from the past life. where we flew to neverland with pan and meet the other boys.” you let out a small smile as you lean down to peer at the bloodied dress.

“well, yes, i am the moth that you’ve found where you were a child. the moth that visit you in your first day here. the moth that stays here at night to take care of you. it’s been fun befriending your ancestors. especially your grandma and mom.”

“you mean the butterflies?” you nod.

“it’s your family, all of them even outside of the monarch species. there is a reason your grandma said to you to spread your wings. she always knew your lineage is connected to the butterflies just like i do with the moths. similar but not the same.” your eyes are trying to read your face as you search for the right words to continue.

“she is so proud of you and everything you face. adulthood is hard and even i could say that when i didn’t even live past 20 years of age. but after what you’ve become from the last three months and how you left the plants alone. she didn’t visit as much. i was mostly alone trying to help the plants but there is not much you can do in a body of a moth.” hearing it, you stare down at the floor as the guilt pushes you, your movement heavy because of it.

“why are you telling me this?” you said, nibbling the inside of your cheek as you glance back at your reflection.

“though you have your memories back, not all of them are there. i’m here to help you open them. there is a reason you see me like this. there is a reason that your last moments with soobin were with you in his arms.” you showed the bloody dress and dishevelled hair.

“because of kook stabbing my back, right?”

you recalled the memory of it in your mind as you and soobin had a pillow talk. just another night for him and you to open up about yourselves and your memories coming back. that night, he mention how you died in his arms. how hook stab your back as he kidnapped you. your memory of that time was chopped into parts you don’t know how to assemble them. and even with you pushing yourself to remember, it’s not there and now you’re hurting yourself too much.

“no. we’re the one that is asking him to do that.”

what?

eyebrows raised, you stare at yourself as you see your reflection’s sullen expression.

“why is that?” you continue.

“i will help you but brace yourself. this is going to be painful. please close your eyes, (y/n).“

the tear pooling from your eyes falls as your eyelids close. lasting words echoes in your voice.

“trust me, (y/n). i am you.”

you heard waves and your body swaying, standing on a not-so-stable foundation. you tried to move your body when you lean back and met a sturdy beam. wooden creaks masked the crashing waves as footsteps come closer.

something lifts from your head as you grimace from the sunlight hitting you directly even with your closed eyelids. they’re blurry as you opened them. your head is pounding as the sun hits you when you take the salty smell. a specter standing before you as it slowly taken its more recognizable shale—a triangle shape on the top of human figure.

“good morning,” an familiar voice calls out to you. your gaze focuses on their tattoos peeking out of the sleeves before they rise to see the piercings decorating their face.

“who are- ah gosh!” you exclaimed from your aching head, looking sideways as you recollect your thoughts back one by one. the captain in front of you lets out a chuckle as you hissed away, shaking your bounded hands as best as you can.

“hope you had a good sleep. you being drunk last night makes our job easier,” the pirate answers as he stood still, seeing you recover yourself before your eyes focus on the moving commotion behind him. the pirate crews all are moving items here and there on the deck: tying the ropes of the sail, preparing gunpowders and cannonballs—your eyes travel above your head when you see the ripped sail from the mast you are tied to. all the pieces culminating in your head as the cogs in your brain move to put them into place.

that’s when it hit you.

they’re leaving. and they will be leaving with you.

“why am i here, hook?” you said with your gritted teeth, rubbing the rope against the wooden beam as best as you can. you knew that it might work as yeonjun taught you to cut a rope with a rock, even showing you how to do it when you helped him cut a trapped animal from one of the traps he use to hunt.

“that’s captain jeon to you, miss. i suppose because you live with those lost boys you called me ‘hook’ too.” the captain spits out as your gaze continues moving to observe the hectic ship’s deck. the urgency growing inside of you as you don’t know if you can conceal your hands from moving faster than they should be. the faster it will be, the better the chances of you returning to your commune.

but did you want?

“answer my questions or i’ll scream my heart out so the boy-“

“you’re here because you’re in danger!“

the captain’s words cut yours off to a halt. eyes narrowing as you stare at the captain, noticing the paper on his only hand with the arch of his hook nudging against your forearm.

“right as we want to talk with you about something. i heard you grumble to yourself about not being able to go home.“ the captain continues as your gaze on him is full of caution. but you don’t want him to know that when he spoke the words about going back home, you remembered your thoughts from last nights before going unconscious, even in the middle of the rum’s influence.

“we saw pan flying back from the other world holding a stack of papers. fortunately, a few of them were caught by the wind and fall to our area.“ hook looks down at the paper he holds before pushing one towards your vision.

“you couldn’t believe what we read.“ his words fade as you stare at the writings and a drawing on the paper.

MISSING

(y/f/n)

Description: Last seen in a white dress...

your eyes gaze down at the words before you stare back at the illustration above the name. a sketch of your face that resembles as close as you look. looking down once again, past the big words of where to report and the informations of your appearance, you see words written in cursive. an afterthought that someone might have wrote as you read the words one by one. eyes widen when you understand what is implying.

please bring our darling back.

your heart tugs within you making you bite your lip. the leftover emotions from last night come again as you look elsewhere, shaking your head to not internalize the words.

“how, how should i trust you that soobin brought this back here? you could be lying and made, and-“ your running thoughts stopped you from talking. your gaze returns back to the captain, seeing a slight frown in his expression before he looks away.

“mingyu, bring the other ones.“ hook spoke loudly to his first mate, mingyu, when you heard the wooden sounded behind you—the area of the upper deck you could vividly identify from memory. footsteps rapidly approaching where you were tied as you notice around ten more sheets of paper identical to the one the captain showed you in his hands. some of the ink streaks makes the words larger and some of them crinkled under the sun—must’ve been picked up from the ocean’s surface as you might guess from a sheet of paper falling from the sky.

you scoured the papers one by one as your breathing becomes short. finding the exact same information even to the small cursive writing that is littered in different areas of each posters. not believing what you figured out may be true before you even see scratchier handwriting that a child must have written—one of your youngest siblings.

“they’re searching for me.“

your thoughts from last night came back to you as your drunken rage determines you to make the choice of going home because of how lonely you are feeling. even after staying here for longer than you remembered, you still miss your family back home. you can’t help but be to envious of your younger siblings as your mother and father spare you, but that doesn’t mean that you hated their guts because they live. if the posters said anything, they’ve missed their oldest sibling too.

the thoughts reminds you back to soobin’s plea to make you stay. doubts still are within you as you wanted to go home before he tells you how much they don’t worry about you. how he told you stories of his own parents and why he now lives here with the boys. pan’s arms are around you as you cry your heart out from how much you miss them. the unfulfilled promise he still owes you that made you that drunk last night.

how he convinces you so much that you believe him.

“is everything pan told me a lie?“ you said with a resolute voice, the rage making the vase inside your splinter into smithereens as you can’t help but let the tears that were prickling your eyes out and stain your cheeks. the muscles on your face contort as you felt folds forming from how you frown and blare your nostril until it became numb to your nerve how sore it is.

“we- we don’t know, (y/n)-“ his voice got caught off as a familiar moth flow to land on the paper. a moth you remember staying by your pot of flowers by your windowsill. its wings flutter as you stare at it, vision got blurry as you covered them.

instead, you were greeted with a white fog as you gazed at an intersection that you recognized to be where your home is located. you were idle as you stare down to see the end of the paper gushing from the night’s wind. you’re seeing the road as part of the poster itself, sticking onto a pole while being blown by the light gush of the night’s wind.

that’s when you notice a shadow rushing around the lamppost across from you that you see also have the same posters. the silhouette gets clearer and clearer until you take in colors on a person right under the streetlight. the familiar outer garment turned into a white coat as did with his tattered pants became clean, but their unnaturally blond hair stood out.

pan.

soobin.

his eyes gaze at the poster right across the street from where you at as you see him ripping it off and tucking it beside his other hand—where you can see how thick the stack is. he does that multiple times on the posters on poles and beams, picking away other people’s effort to search for your whereabouts. and as he pulls them off more and more, you realized just how much he doesn’t care about your status to the people back at your home.

his mumbling voice gets closer to where you at before he’s standing in front of you. you couldn’t say anything even if you want to. at this state, you were the paper that he will be ripping from where they stick you in a few minutes.

shivers run down your body as you met soobin’s dark gaze while he stares at the poster—you. when you look down on his image, the sleeves of his white coat are littered with maroon petal-like patterns. too unnatural to be done by a tailor. you can even smell the iron-like scent exuding from the patches.

“this world doesn’t deserve you, my darling. you’re mine to keep in neverland. and i’ll do anything to make you stay.“ soobin monologues to the drawing of you; his cold demeanor is something you recognized from the first months you lived as his neighbor.

“if it means i have to kill the people that spread these posters,“ he said with his clenched teeth before ripping the paper off.

the sound of it rings in your ear as you heard the rustling of trees from the shore beside the pirates’ ship. your gaze returns from the leaves as you see your bloody self between the captain and his first mate as you gave a nod.

“we need to get out of here.“ you find your resolution as you were met with a saddening gaze of yourself before you perceived something surging in your body. an alert of some sort playing in your head as your vision returns to the forest. the trees are moving from above, the branches getting tighter to form a barrier of some sort. that is until you feel something hurting you from the inside in a form familiar to a lightning strike, quick in succession. a few more painful slashes you felt within you as you can feel plants losing their links to you. all the plants that you have connected with throughout the island is telling you the same thing as more and more hits come to hurt you.

“he’s coming. pan is coming.“ you said with your might as strong as you could, holding the pain inside to not let the pirates panic. hook’s eyes widened along with mingyu before the captain commands his mates to hurry up. a slap on the skin is what you felt when the island’s plants are being cut off one by one, all of them are there to protect you and to let you leave with the pirates as fast as you can.

the captain is turning around when you call, “captain jeon.“

he turns towards you as your limp body leans forwards from exhaustion. but you held your head up high as you said to him, “if he comes closer to me, i want you to kill me with the dagger i brought.”

you knew about the dagger’s disappearance as you felt how light the sheath of it wrapped around your thigh. you remember it falling from your grasp when you wanted to attacked who kidnapped you. and so, you knew that they have it their possession. it will be a haunting memory for the boy to see if he is not careful enough.

“what do you mean, miss-“

“you know what he is capable of.“ you sniff your runny nose as the emotions are pouring out of you. “he won’t stop until he gets me back. and i rather die than be with his manipulative self.“

your vision reverts as you stare at yourself in the mirror. the weights on your words echoes in your thoughts as you finally recalled the whole truth that is also hurting yourself from within you. fists clenched as you try to bare it.

“then soobin came flying to the top of the ship’s deck with a machete. slashing every crewmate that fought for us before his powers explode around the human barrier.“

your eyebrows furrowed, listening to you talking as the exact memory is playing into your head. on how you tried your best to look away at the brutality and the truth of the boy you love so much. you soothe yourself from the pain in your head for learning the ultimate truth. a force within yourself is pushing back on something powerful to make you not remember. something that must have come from a being as strong as pan.

“blood and flesh splatter everywhere as soobin approaches us. he had a manic look in his eyes before untying us. i was numb in wretch and disgust for the boy i love to be as ignorant to other people. the blood of the crewmates stains our white dress as he hugs us. but you remember what i said to hook, and we felt something pierce through our skin from the lower back. the dagger he gave to us.“

you stare at yourself as you were given a bird's eye view of your memory. you remembered mentioning the dagger you talked about with soobin before he was being put off of it. but you called him out about his pocket knife as he immediately reply with “i don’t have a pocket knife.” something that makes you squint your eyes as you remember a certain swiss army knife in his possession.

your memories continue to play in your mind as you see yourself slump on the deck where you see soobin being held back by captain jeon. the pain surging through your body and your head getting heavy from the blood loss. that’s when soobin hits hook in the stomach before reaching for you, wrapping your weaken body near his own.

“i almost spoke our last words to him before death comes to pick us up in his arm as we lose so much blood, staining his already bloody hands to add more to his kill list.“ you continue to tell.

“i…“ your voice is so little only he could pick up. soobin’s tears fall on his cheek as your life fades away.

“you know what i wanted to say to him as i died in his arms?“ your old self asked as you stare at her in the mirror.

i love you?

i’m sorry?

those were what you thought before you hear the actual answer.

“i won’t forgive you.“

the words caught you off guard as you make sense of it. for sure, that is what you will say to him after everything that is done between you and him on that forsaken island. his restrictions to you to visit home even when he flew there to do his errands, his hold on you so tight that he won’t let you go until he needed too. the way he trusted the boys to take care of you, to be your guard in both positive and negative way. and also, the other beings on the island hating you might be one of the evidences of that—he doesn’t want you to be close to other beings.

“why didn’t these memories come to me when i remember?” you muttered as you stare at yourself, seeing the sagging of your shoulders as a tear dropped from your eyes.

“you don’t know. i know you don’t because soobin did something to stop you from remembering that.” you give a solemn smile.

“i was given a chance to see myself and neverland for the last time before death take me away to the afterlife. that’s when a sudden burst came from him. it killed those on the ship: hook, yeonjun, taehyun, kai, and beomgyu who arrived at the beach, and more people that i knew won’t have a chance to live because of his first outburst. but it is bigger in scale than i thought.” you inspect the blooming trauma in your eyes before continuing.

“every living being on the island was dead because of him and his selfishness. and it turns neverland into a lush island full of crimson.” you let out a frown, continuing to listen.

“so he take our dead body to the island’s deity’s altar and beg for it to give him a second chance to be with us, but he failed.”

your legs wobble, especially from the known information about him as you hold on to the mirror’s frame. how can he be so cruel to other beings? he is the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. but now, you don’t know if what he told you is the truth or not. what his actions is really from him or just something he want to portray to make you believe him.

“that’s when he purposed something. he’ll get us back and rip our memory of bad things involving him and our captivity by his side. in return, he gave up his powers, immortality, and the neverland island.”

“he’s immortal?” you then got a reply with a hum.

“all of the lost boys are immortal, especially with his responsibility to be the imaginary friend to children who is scared to grow up. he never wanted to do that in the first place, right?”

he never wanted to grow up. that’s true. all the lost boys never wanted to grow up beyond 18. beyond the cusp of adolescence and childhood. maybe he wanted you to be like that too, but you were mortal and you were knew to the place. the other boys got killed by his powers—maybe his power set transcends immortality.

“‘the great pan is dead’ was what everyone was chanting as he sacrifices himself. i watched from the nearby tree with clenched as the island lost its protector; all of them not knowing that he is sacrificing them too, just to get you back.”

and that’s why you’re back with your ability to connect with plants coming naturally—your gift of loving them back your home is embraced by the island’s magical rules. the lost boys are back but not in the same body. hook and his first mate is back and so are the pirate mates who are your other co-workers in the pub. maybe there were even more people like you back then who had elemental powers on the island. maybe they are there but soobin’s selfishness holds you back to discover and learn from them.

but what you are disappointed about yourself is how you can easily believe him after all of that. and now you’re here, getting back into the same cycle when he even made you forgot to take off the plants that you have promised to yourself, especially daisy sprout who you have been given since you were child living with your grandma. you didn’t have any choice to fight against the forces that pushes you to forget, before you helped by uncovering the truth.

“how about the rumors about kook at the pub?”

“it’s false. he might be the only other person to realize the reincarnation. the poor man was having paranoia as he tried his best to approach you and tell you about this as fast as you can. he forces himself into his subordinates’ vicinity so that they can remember about soobin. his hoarding of the money for the ingredients is his pirating tendency going on. but after that incident at the locker room, he might not even be sane with your layoff—wanting to get rid of you for his and his crews’ safety.” you sounded, rambling about the information as if you witness it yourself—maybe you did and that’s why you can articulate it so well.

“some foul play might also happen that even make you more dependent on pan. i would guess that he even convinced the two owners to let his rotational shifts be with you most of the time.” you continued as your mind runs in hyper-speed, connecting the dots one by one.

you breathe heavily, head in your hands as you try to soothe yourself as best as you can. but it’s not working. doubt always comes in like someone spying on you and you rid yourself of the mirror.

“what should i do?” you ramble on and on the same words, walking out of your room as your legs buckle and make you fall on the dead plants. your emotions are overwhelming you so much that it pains your body.

your body curling into a fetal position is natural for you. you let your tears wet the dead floras that you let down. breathing becomes hard as you hug yourself, regretting everything about the life you had now. the moth crawls on your figure as you heard yourself mutter sweet words to encourage you.

what should i do?

what should i do?

you sensed another thing on your skin as you open your eyes to stare at the hand in front of you, laying on the bed of leaves. you see a monarch butterfly moving about on top of your hand. one that exudes such a familiar aura as you can’t help but to greet it.

“grandma…” you muttered. it turns to face you.

“let us help, darling.” you heard the familiar timbre echoes to you.

more shadows of winged insects enters your balcony as they all land on you. yet, you don’t feel ticklish, you embrace them. they open their wings to protect you like a shield, covering your body from danger, temperature-wise or maybe physical danger.

as more of the lepidopterans rested on your body, more information came to mind. a highway of them built up as quickly as it can as you gather the information in your brain and process it as fast as you can. you couldn’t articulate each and every one of them but a few through lines were made: how everyone in this city is a reincarnation of every being on the island. sirens, fairies, and other beings you aren’t close with back on the island, even if you push yourself to before they pushed back. you find the fact more reliable as more moths gathered and introduce yourself to your network of information. most of them were the beings in the previous lives on the island. their apologies reverberate in your mind, them not being there with you.

“pan said awful things about you that we can’t help but believe. now we know we were wrong. he was trying to make us stay away to keep you all to himself.”

they all rested on your figure as you sense something wrapping around your forefinger. your eyes glance down as you see glowing green shining from beneath, repairing the dead plants as they move to wrap you around and even grow flowers for the insects to help, spreading life and information.

you are connected with both of them.

“how can we help?” you heard you ask, the garden tiger moth hover near your face as your antennae moves to capture what you were going to talk about.

“if what the moths said are true, that all of the people here are reincarnated from neverland too. we will deliver them a message. the truth. stealthily.” you sounded as resolute as ever, a tear falling from the corner of your eyes and landed on the plants that are healing themselves.

your antennae move as it receives your command. the critters and the plants now joining under your command as they surround you like a cocoon—finishing your metamorphosis.

-

for about two months, you dwell on your task to deliver the people of the city a message. the truth about their existence and the cause of the world they live in. butterflies and moths work in tandem to uncover the memories suppressed by the brain and the force that also holds you back. and every time you succeed, the plant life will overgrow and tackle the glass and/or concrete walls.

acting on intuition is becoming such a normality for you ever since everything changed, especially when it comes to your matured abilities. knowledge is coursing through your brain from the pieces of information you get, sending them to your plants to store and sort. getting even stronger with every overgrown plant that has grown because of people knowing the truth.

you play soobin well for someone that has been untruthful about your well-being in the past few months now, decorating his apartment unit better with a few trinkets that remind you of him and neverland. all of that is to not let him sniff the stronger flower scent exuding from you, the flower scent that might have been with you all this but elevated as your influence grew stronger.

waking up late at night is now a habit of yours. you crawl away from soobin’s arms and greeted the lamp-lit living area before you go to the balcony. you used to only gaze at the nightlife that is happening but now; you let your arm out across the barrier. the time to wait doesn’t take as long as when you started when an eclipse of moths gather and land on the length of your arm. the overflowing news makes you close your eyes. they dash behind the lids: gathering all the information that benefits you before you send them out once again. the prickling sense on your skin still lingers as you return to soobin’s sleepy figure in your shared bed.

“can’t sleep?” someone asked, startling you. you find the boy you were thinking of sitting up against the bed’s headboard, his blond hair in disarray. even from the entrance of the bedroom, you can see him squinting his eyes. goosebumps unconsciously form on your skin.

“ah, yeah… i went to get a drink.” you blatantly as you stepped closer, gnawing the inside of your cheek as you approach him. he didn’t greet you with his usual small smile before you practically kneel on the mattress as you crawl closer. he grabs your body into his, something so natural to him. a searing kiss follows as you reciprocate the best you can, feeling his tongue trying to push in between your lips as you reciprocate. soobin leans away as you breathe heavily before he sniffs the crook of your neck—the hickey he gave you just hours ago is still burning your skin.

“you smell like a bouquet of flowers more and more,” he mumbles. you can’t help but rub his blond hair, giving a hum as he continues to sniff your accented scent. yet your gaze tells otherwise. if one can see, they recognized that worrisome is growing in you.

even though you are trying your best to not question the changes in things that occurred and settle into your “new life” that is nagging you, you’re worried that soobin seems to figure something out. a day could pass and a new piece of information can change your standing. soobin might be glad you’re not as curious as you were back in your previous life, but you exchanged it with how meticulous you are now.

why does this bother you? that’s because soobin never wakes up while you’re awake to receive your messages and each time that has passed, he is getting more aware—exceptionally faster than the first month of operation. you can figure it out with how tight he holds you more and more, then how much he marks you as his on any occasion he can, even in visible areas so people could know you are his. the ring of messages is approaching the campus area you lived in and his awareness seems to get more explicit every minute.

but didn’t you like it that he holds you like his world? should you?

you rub his blond hair as he drops on the mattress along with you. his hands wrapping and pushing your torso to his so it stays close. you felt him nibble on the skin of your neck, which makes you let out a breathy moan before he murmured.

“wake me up if you’re gonna leave the bed. i don’t want to be left alone.”

your vision stares at the sunken pillow as you slip away from him before giving him a long kiss. his lips linger on yours as you give a small hum before resting your head on his chest. shifting your head to the side, you couldn’t hold back the guilt and disgust showing in your facial expression.

with your ability to know everything, you, the plants, and the lepidopterans work together to gather intel whilst you gave out the message. and as the edge of the city is successfully influenced in one try—letting the plants grow and fight the city itself. but as it comes closer to the campus area and your tower, the stronger the force to make them not remember is going, making you have to do more than one visit to each person. and you hated that it could let your critters get damaged, how you can even sense the minuscule pain from them just because they got slapped away for being too close.

after waking up from the cocoon, you felt more potent than ever when you see the chlorophyll green trails along the beds of your fingertips before arriving at your knuckles as you use more and more of your ability. the flower scent coming from you is getting more prominent in every iteration of new information, new messages successfully carried, and new buildings occupied under your supervision of spreading plants.

every time the whole five of them left the tower to do what they were doing—classes, their shift at the bar, et cetera; you returned to your sanctuary and only your sanctuary. you changed your passcode to something only you know. opening the door, you are greeted by the growing vine that is a few meters away from your door, a glow of green running about like ocean waves that illuminate your living area. your home became so lush that it inspired you to draw them in your notebook. the plants instead elevate your pieces of furniture so that it gives out a new aesthetic. and every time you return, you immediately rid yourself of the dirt-covered clothes so the others couldn’t suspect you of returning to your apartment, especially because of soobin’s biased opinion on what you can and can’t do that still makes your fist clenched.

you let your head rest on soobin’s chest as you can hear his heart thumping beneath you in a steady beat. calming you as you close your eyes, receiving many signals from the spreading insects and plants that help spread your message: to make them think intuitively and to make them remember the neverland island.

receiving so much news about people thanking you is overwhelming, to say the least. hearing their call of missing neverland and who they were made a bubble inflating inside you about how they could have just lived their lives without pan intermingling them into his wishes. how he took their lives away from them just so he has you back again. you thought the overgrown plants will receive complaints from around the city, but with your now-connected hive mind, you realize just how much they missed the greenery and the whole atmosphere of the island. because they aren’t weird, they are part of your lives.

you kiss soobin’s pouty lips goodbye as you see the others waving with their hands holding their various styles of bags before all of them step into the elevator to do their days full of classes and work around noon. as you heard the moving machinery carrying them down the tower, your smile falters as you paced to your apartment and press in your new passcode.

the glowing greenery decorates the entire apartment as you stepped inside, seeing the flowers and vines growing around with butterflies and moths resting on them as they turn to greet you in their own way. you pull off your slippers as you strode onto the bed of leaves that formed in your home, letting the plants welcome you as you let your refreshed energy transfer to them. your eyes transfixed on the large wall behind your couch full of vines bordering its side and smaller stems connecting in the middle of a large open patch. the plants illustrate an intricate map of the city, the vines growing slowly as your messages continue to be successfully sent from the edge to the center of the map: where you reside. where the resistance is the strongest.

the patch is slowly getting covered as you can identify the recognizable layout of the campus area. a small flower pinpoints the epicenter of the influence before it’s complete. you observed the vines approaching the block where the neverland pub stands, only in a few hours that their occupants will understand the truth.

kaleidoscopes of butterflies and eclipses of moths gather under your unspoken command before flying away to deliver your message, to make them remember who they are in the past and what their guardian did for the sake of himself. more of them left and come back to aid in your revenge as you isolate yourself for hours n a meditative state as the sun passes the threshold of the afternoon approaching sundown. very different from the isolation that soobin gave you. you’re more alive.

your bedroom is mostly left untouched by the growing vines as you walked inside it, replacing soobin’s clothes he told you to wear with your own overalls and a shirt that is grandma’s hand-me-down. you felt more like yourself with it, but you don’t know if you are yourself given the consequences of who you are. you aren’t the innocent (y/n) that first arrived at the city, but you are not the (y/n) that the lost children are trying to portray. the new isolated adventure you have indulged in has created a new you, resilient and intelligent.

however, when you spot the music box soobin gave you on your desk, your foundation makes new cracks. what will happen to him after all of this? you still care for him but you learned that by doing this, you might indulge his dangerous self more and more. his childish, possessive self that claims you like a toy in his possession. pan has good in him when he volunteers to be the island’s protector, but he should know that nothing lasts forever in reality.

maybe this detour adventure of yours will let him and you see who both of you truly are.

you picked up the music box and open it to see the recognizable siren song playing in an orgel-like style. the melody and harmony twinkle into your ears. you hold the music box and place it on the dining table as you look at the boulder with the siren spinning. your thoughts return to that incident by the beach where pan and the lost boys helped naïve you to fight the siren song. soobin’s eyes spoke so many things as the influence died down, but only now could you recognize an underlying rage in it. maybe he had that rage since he was a child, and that is why he can’t fully let go of his childhood.

your phone that is tucked in your pant pocket rumbles against your thigh. your eyes gaze at the open balcony door to watch another group of critters enters and exit from the sanctuary. pulling it out as you pushed the melody of the orgel away, you glance at the screen to find the name you didn’t expect. kook.

“hello?” you answer the call, eyes glancing sideways as one moth landed on your hand.

“(y/n), i’m sorry for laying you off. i-“ you heard the men sigh. “i’m sorry to worry you that much and for the papers.”

the moth confirmed what your suspicion is. “we have got through captain jeon.”

“thank you for making me remember.” he lingers on his last words a second too much before the line is cut. your eyebrows creased when you gently drop your phone onto the table beside the music box. you see the vines climbing up the table’s feet and intertwining with both of the items. your head turns towards the wall when you detect the greenery has reached where the campus is, already covering the location of the pub as it crawls faster towards where you are.

you should be glad, but his lingering worries you.

the end is near for your two-month journey of establishing the truth. the plants grow from your might as your worries making them glow in the early evening. your skin has an underlying tint of green that is climbing up to your elbows in the shining sun that is sinking. the strength to push is tiring. but you want to say that all of them deserve to rest knowing the unjustness they’ve faced, including yours.

you move to rest your hand against the fence that separates you from the outside, gazing at your doing that you can detect only a few meters away, approaching the tower you live in. greenery stands out from the grey concrete as the sky becomes darker, sun shining on them giving out a trim highlights to the dull buildings. some plants travel slowly but some are fast—some even make the already available grass patches more lush as you see from the campus yard from where you stand. yet nobody questioned it as you watch small specks of shadows flying about, landing on one person before flying away. you assure them through the critters that it is normal, they’ve seen it neverland. that they should be grateful for nature because, without it, a species might not survive.

but doubts come back once again—ethically. is what you’re doing too much?

you have let revenge and justice push you to act against what soobin has done to you and you let the world pay for it. the world he made so you could be together. so what if you destroy it? destroy him? just one shot and you can make it, but will finishing this take away your humanity too?

you didn’t pick up the frantic footsteps outside of your apartment before you heard the beeps from the incorrect passcodes entered. exhaling your breath as the green light radiates more of the room each second, you turn towards the small monitor that list up when you heard bangs on the door.

“darling!” you recognized the familiar tone muffled with the door. glancing at the monitor, the blond hair peeks from beneath the screen as he is getting more and more desperate, trying to break the door away if he could. beeps replacing the sound of air as you stare at the door with an empty face, approaching it with the hint of green still left on your forearms.

with a small click of the door and a small gap between you and him, soobin pushes and immediately captures you in his arms. the casual street-style black outfit he wears for class today is in shambles as he cups your face. you were met with a frantic, noisy face full of many emotions where you could identify two that stood out. rage and panic.

“(y/n), darling,” he calls as you remain in your blank expression, pushing your emotions elsewhere to your plants and influence so they could grow even under these circumstances. but even deep inside you, you’re trembling—one slight change and you can break down in his arms once again. your heart is beating under your skin as you push with your might. you felt one vine travel up your overalls and wrapped around your finger when your body suddenly moves from soobin’s hold as he pushes you behind him.

the sound of a rip cut through the vast air in the room as you caught a silver of his expression change from the boy before you were being pushed back. your expression instantly changes when you see him brandishing the swiss army knife he had to cut the growing vines that are closing to both of you when before he cuts them off in a swift motion, hurting you too. you hold on from groaning in pain as you listened to the ripping sounds and hurting voices within you, pushing yourself up to watch soobin cuts the sentient plants more and more. hands wrapped around his front, you hold him back with your strength as best as you can. yet, he didn’t stop even if you might claw his skin off.

“let me go! let me fucking go! they’re influencing you, darling!” soobin screams as you put all your weight to the floor to stop him from moving, wincing in pain as he gets a few slashes on them because of his long and unrestrained limbs.

“these plants deserve me more than you.” you spit out as he continues to try to move even under your grasp. looking away to focus on holding to him, you didn’t see soobin pulling something out of his pant pockets when you hear the sound of a click. a familiar click.

“i knew i should have burned these plants when i helped you move them here.” eyes widen from his doing, you watch the lit lighter dropped onto the bed of leaves in front of both of you as they ignite—combining the few dried materials along with your flammable apartment parts. you could feel them aching from within you. the moths and butterflies are flying to get to you, but they’re caught by the fire and its crackle that flew as it spreads.

your eyes glance at your fallen friends as you let go of soobin, pushing him away as you stare at your work all being demised. the walls started to burn as you can’t bear the pain, making your legs buckle under you as you rested on the patch that are unlit. you still sense the slashes from the pocket knife as an underlying pain, seeing soobin doing so—the cold demeanor returning to him with an expression of satisfaction.

“STOP IT! YOU’RE HURTING ME!” you yelled, curling your head into your hands. peeking between your fingers, you see soobin pausing his movement before turning around, approaching you with his hand tight around the handle of the knife.

“you should’ve never gone back here. i told you so.” his timbre is unrecognizable.

“and for what? punishing me? stopping me to know the truth about us? about you?” you shouted back as you lift your head and stare at him. the heat of the fire is surrounding both of you as you see the vines turning into ashes, reaching for you so that they could stay alive.

“you sacrifice everything back in neverland to have me back and yet you didn’t tell me the whole truth about what you’re doing on that ship. how could you?” you shake your head as you felt sorry for how he manipulates your thoughts about captain jeon from his recalling. how he also manipulates your perception of kook in this life.

“you could’ve just brought me back to let me meet my parents-“

“they won’t fucking believe you’re alive after you went missing for months, darling.” your breath hitches as he kneels to get closer to you. “you’re mine. no one deserves you more than me. and if i brought you back, they’re gonna claim you back.”

“because they are my family, soob-“

“and if they did so, you’re not going back to me. i know it,” he continued. his jaw is tight as he tilts his head. his eyes pierce into your trembling soul. “i rather ignore your wish instead so you’ll stay with me.”

“you’re fucking cruel. fucking selfish,” you spoke behind your gritted teeth. one stem seems to crawl out to you as you place your palm on them, trying your best to heal them. but it was too late as you felt the life dispersing from it, because of the fire that spreads too fast.

“i’ll do anything to get you to submit to me. that also means hurting you. those plant powers of yours shouldn’t work to fight against me. they are neverland‘s powers, to begin with.”

you almost wanted to believe him where your mind is scrambling to find the right words to say against that. that’s when you remember a memory of yourself in your past life, long before meeting pan and him taking you to neverland.

you miss seeing stains on your dress from playing at the park where fancy-looking people also enjoy themselves, trailing down a path full of beds of flowers as you grazed your fingertips against their petals, feeling them coil to the touch. how only on this island that you can touch them again and they reciprocate by wrapping their petals around your fingertips; missing you, as if they learn about you from the plants you sightsee back home.

no. the gift you have isn’t neverland-owned unlike pan’s. yours were there in the first place. even in another life, you still have it. your grandma has the same gift as well. you being in neverland only enhanced it. pushing it more than your capability. maybe there were people like you who has those gifts too, on the island or not.

at the realization of that, you sensed something bloom inside you. it tickles you as you see the familiar green glow exuding in your veins before collecting in your palm. you push it against the floor as it is lit with a dim green glow beneath the orange flame. your energy being transferred one last time to get the grasp of the plants that are hurting to help you. to sprout who you can feel is still alive somewhere in this room. to the butterflies and moths who are there to deliver your message. the souls inside them, your ancestors, the reincarnations, and your old self.

you let out an exasperated laugh, “yet you didn’t count for this, huh?”

pushing yourself up, you stumble on the patch as the fire steps closer to your skin. rising above the flame, balls of fire also float out of the surrounding fire. their flames dispersed and you finally saw the small bodies of the butterflies and moths that were with you in this room. the wings replace with flames as you command them to go away from your apartment and spread the message. more passionate than ever while you face the being that causes this world and city to appear.

“that is impossible,” he muttered under his breath before seeing you let out an unnatural smirk. dark green shade blends in with the skin on your arm.

you replied, “nothing is impossible in this world you made. pan.”

your clothes were burnt on the edges as the plants create a path for him to come close, reminiscent of the bubble wrapping that litters the floor on your first day here.. the charcoal-colored vines pull him in as you stand face to face. you would gladly beat him, but punching isn’t your best skill as you remembered back from training with him on the shore of the island.

“i should be like the darling in the fairytale book about us. leaving neverland to grow up, letting you stay as their guardian. now you brought me here to this fucking hell hole to be with you. you who-“ your voice is strained as you let out all the pent-up rambles that have travelled inside your mind for months.

“you who don’t even respect me for who i am.” you pursed your lips and shake your head.

“i was protecting you. your family aren’t as different as mine back in that life. i have to live with them again twice before i push myself to lash out and get my inheritance from them early. you know what they are like. and even if i brought you back to them, do you believe they care?” soobin argues back when you caught a small implication between him and his parents that made you angrier, shaking your head in disbelief.

“you didn’t even fucking see the small sentence written on that poster. they do in that life. in this life, they also do. grandma does and always will care for me even until her last breath. and if you say what you’re doing is caring for me. you’re fucking wrong!” you shouted, clenching your fist as you hold on. your head is swaying because of how much you are exerting, but you drive forward.

“nothing in this world is black and white, darling. look at what you’ve done. and you didn’t even stop it.” soobin opens his arms as you gaze around. the flame that was only burning the room now ignites the ceiling and your floor—hurting the tenants above and below you who aren’t supposed to be involved. your vision lands on the building across from you. the building that is full of plants make holes in the wall as you see leaning because of the lack of foundation. because of your influence to let them recognize that nature will beat concrete and it endangers the people in them.

“i’m doing this so i can have a chance with you once again. you know you want to when you asked me the exact thing on the island.” soobin approaches you as you turn around to face him. his countenance mirrors yours, who has tears running down your cheek.

“you promise me an adventure in our previous life.” you swallow your breath and stabilize yourself as best as you can. “yet you kept me like an animal in a zoo. you kept me in this beautiful paradise of a cage and limit me from anyone.” your glare spears through to his barrier. yet he throws his face away and scoffed.

“then stop spreading the plants to make it better. you’re hurting people.”

“you hurt ME.” you pointed your finger to your chest as you stepped forward. “and you hurt them too when you sacrifice them to get me back.” you rubbed your hands against your hair, wanting to rip them off your scalp.

“these plants and my ability to connect with them help me stay sane back on the island. the same thing is happening now.” you step back to fully look at him as you continue. “i know that every person in the city is related to neverland. every siren and mermaid i never met. every fairy and magical being on that island that loathed me under your manipulation so i could stay with you. with what i’m doing, i’m telling them the truth, soobin.”

tilting your head, you sniff away your runny nose and let the tears streak down your skin. the flame produces the burnt smell you recognize. pan stood in front of a fire that frames him and it could be interpreted in two ways: the bad guy trying to keep things wrong or the good guy trying to make things “right”. and you are conflicted because of that.

you understood, deep down, you might be a lost cause. even with all the effort that you do to do justice for the people in the city—even jaemin, chaewon, suhyeon, and jihoon who are under his command—, you don’t know if you could find justice for yourself. because soobin has a special place in your heart.

he was the boy that found you at your lowest and helps you build yourself up. he was the same boy that keeps you safe with the adventures you, him, and the lost boys had. he was the most explicit person to show you how much he cared for you. without him and his selfishness, he might not give you and him a second chance. you might not meet your grandma without that second chance. you might not have these grand adventures with the lost children without it. and like what grandma reminded you: life is an adventure, no matter how planned or unplanned it is.

and you knew you only had one choice to end this. the one way that you and pan, the catalysts of all of this, will be satisfied; even if he’ll like it or not. besides, if he could be selfish, you could too, right?

your face held a stern expression of resolute, a mixture of emotions sprinkle in them to help you more. putting your foot carefully one after the other, your body is now inches away from touching his, eyes gazing at his who is frantically looking all over your face. trying to read the complicated message you’re letting out.

“if you want me to stop this.” you nip your bottom lip, hesitating to continue as the stake of what you’re doing. yet you pushed forward.

“if you do love me, let me go. let yourself go.” you reach for his right wrist and wrapped it with your hand.

“without the powers. without the memories. just you and me. let’s start over.” his previous gaze at you becomes large, facing you who has a determined expression.

“grow up, soobin.”

you pull his right wrist and rise it up before plunging the pocket knife into your chest. the pain you’re feeling is familiar to your body, because of what you get from the previous life and the aching your heart felt with every revelation. yet, the pain helps you subside everything as you can see the blooming maroon color coming from your chest.

soobin frantically tries to hold your limping body with his free hand as comfortably as he can. your grasp on the knife’s handle didn’t let go as you pull it out of your chest before pushing it into soobin’s. both of you taking part in killing one another.

you expected to see a look of disgust when he grimaced at the pain, but a smile formed on his face. his eyes shine with the light of the flame reflecting it. you also followed with your own smile as you stare at the red handle of the knife that shines along with the flames mirroring light. soobin’s eyes stare at you with his signature eye smile. you glance at the darker patch on his black t-shirt and the tool that causes it.

“i always knew that it was my pocket knife. no wonder i never found it here,” you mumbled as you and soobin buckled and landed on the floor, hands holding onto each other. he’s still strong enough to let out a chuckle.

“i was trying to-“ he cleared his throat, “to not let this happen again. yet here we are.”

“here we are indeed,” you reply. under the crackling of the flame, you didn’t hear the banging door of your apartment as you recognize the sound of your friends behind it. it’s admirable for them to still come and try to get you out even in this burning building. but with a look exchange between you and soobin, you know both of you won’t survive this.

soobin moves his hand and pushes your body to his, embracing you for the last. your blood staining his shirt along with his blood on yours. your eyes stare one last time at the burning plants around you as you see a familiar silhouette of sprout, its petals burning as it lets you carry on.

“i’ll see you on the other side, pan,” you mumbled to his ear, letting the flame consume both of you as you almost didn’t catch his whisper.

“see you on the other side, darling.”

-

the stumbling of the floor comes to a slow and fading halt. the scenery behind the vertical glass stops. the people inside the small space stand up and grab their stuff from shelves hanging from the ceiling. any time they take a step, the floor sways. they’re heading the same way: to the exit.

you step out onto a smaller train station from where you left as you embrace the air of the town. the suitcase you drag has a duffel bag on top of it while you sling another carry-on in one arm and a backpack on your behind. all you need to do is contact the number you kept.

you did so as you walked around the abundance of people that also step out from the same train as yours. all of them forming a line that you follow to the exit. putting your phone by your ear, you heard the beeps as your call is going through the noisy invisible waves. eyes open wide as you try to see the person you’re calling.

when you step outside, you caught someone calling your name. you couldn’t help to let the smile out as you face them.

“mr. jung!” you exclaimed, trailing away to the man as he comes and wraps his arms around you as best as he could with the luggage you carry. letting you go, he helped you carry pieces of your luggage into the boot of his van.

it trails down the road as you glance at the town you left after grandma passed away. but you always knew you returned here. that’s how much you miss her.

“how’s your detour in the city?” mr. jung asked you as your eyes stare out of the window.

“it was eventful, to say the least. i spread my wings like what grandma asked me to.” you heard him chuckle as he drops something on your lap. it glimmer under the sunshine when you take a peek.

“you were lucky there is one more condo empty when you needed my help. i knew your grandma would want you to live in a smaller residence rather than her house. she wanted life to be easier for you.” mr. jung speaks as you picked up the item, examining the key to your new home. you were glad the inheritance was enough, and you learned that you have to search for a job soon. mr. jung said that there is a new flower shop in the downtown area, maybe you could try applying there.

stepping out of the van, you were met with a five-story building as the older man helps you put down your luggage beside you. your eyes admire the clean building as you stare at the window of one condo on the third floor. the condo you can call yours.

the rumbling of the van fades away as you remember mr. jung has to pick up one of his children from school. your eyes glance at the amount of luggage you have to carry up to the third floor. if only he could stay here longer to help-

“need any help?” you heard a voice calling for you. your eyes followed the source to find a tall boy with a black sweater and jeans, his bag’s strap slung across his chest. you see the black color of his hair root under the bleached ones. he must have bleached it so much that it looks dry and burnt. but you are glad to see him embracing his natural hair color back instead of bleaching it.

“you must be the new tenant,” he announced, pushing his palm towards you. an invitation for you to shake.

“i am. my name is (y/n). and that would be so helpful- uh...” you reply and shake his hand. feeling something electric cruising between the two of you as you tried to guess his name.

“soobin. it’s soobin. you’re my next-door neighbor.” he replied, his gaze landing on yours longer than you expected with you reciprocating. his face is so familiar, especially with the way he speaks with his eyes.

you let go of his hand as he gestures towards the two pieces he could carry. both of you enter the lobby of your condo as you step into the elevator. your grip on the handle of the suitcase is tight as you sensed the awkwardness exudes between the two of you. that’s when you accidentally take a peek at his open canvas bag to see a few books resting inside.

“you must like your books.” you give a small comment as you heard him chuckle.

“the perks of working in a bookstore, i guess,” he replied as you heard the ding of the elevator when its doors opened. your eyes landed on the boxes put outside of the door that you could recognize must be yours. soobin puts down the luggage near your feet before he straightens his body. that is when you notice that there is a tower of open empty boxes at the door across from yours.

“you also just moved in?”

“yeah. two weeks ago and i settle in pretty fast,” soobin replies, his body swaying as he gives a shy look at you.

“how- how about you? where did you come from?” he returned, curiosity evident in his voice.

“i’ve been this town citizen for most of my life. but i tried going to the city for a detour of some sort,” you replied whilst a chuckle left your lips.

“what city, to be exact?”

when you thought about the city, your memories get blurry as you can only remember a few striking images of the city.

“it’s a city that is so lush, full of overgrown. it doesn’t look like a city, to be honest, it looks like-“

“a forest.” soobin cuts you with the exact word you’re going to let out next. meeting his eyes, you see a look of recognition in him as he does as well to you before it fades away.

“i came from that city too. i guess i knew it was my time to leave and say farewell to it.” soobin replied, a smile showing on his face as you see the dimples forming from it.

“yeah, me too,” you answered as you exude the same smile.

even with both of your blurry memories of said city, it is real.

somewhere deep between tree covering, lies an abandoned city. the concrete towers have crumbled down to its foundation as it lets plants grow on it. creating a dichotomy of grays meeting greens that looks menacing, yet fascinating.

neverland.

taglist: @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @stayzentiny @rebsmoonn @boba-beom @angelbythewindow @ttyunz @izzyexe @serendipityjaemin @elavin

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[s-9in]

cutest read and forever will.

DEAR DIARY, I HATE JUNGWON !

SUMMARY | you hate jungwon- like a lot. everyone at your school knows it at this point, so why is it the minute you see him shed a tear, you feel bad? with this new found guilt, you're able to see new sides of jungwon that your anger blinded you from before. it doesn't take you long to realise that you don't hate these new sides of him as much as you'd like to.

PAIRING | jungwon x fem!reader

WC | 18.2k

WARNINGS | profanity, violence, vandalism, mentions of alcohol & sex

FEATURING | second lead sunghoon, heeseung is mentioned & ITZY

TAGLIST | unofficial taglist i just need the hype pls @tyunni @geombyu @yjwfav @junityy @jaeyunverse @ijhyo @equalheart @odxrilove @iyeonjuni @fairybinie

A/N | before u come at me for plagairising I AM HYUKAAS OKAY THIS IS MY FIC AHAHA IT'S A REPOST initially i was going to rewrite this but u all loved the og version so i'm going to give u the og version i literally have not changed a word. u guys gave this a lot of love on my old acc so i hope u enjoy :)

-

you: wtf

jung_1: ?

you: chemistry club??? really?

jung_1: i wanted the piano club

you: so what? me going isn't going to stop u

jung_1: u think i wanna see your face every day after school? 

class is enough smh

you: so u signed me up for chem?

jung_1: it was the only one left lol

you: stfu

jung_1: k lol

From what you can remember, Jungwon hasn't always been like this. You've tried to sit down and pinpoint a date back to when this all started, but the best you could come up with was when he blew out your candle at your eleventh birthday party. That was the first and last time you had ever invited him over to your house.

The two of you are neighbours, and yet you've never had a single decent conversation with the guy in your entire life. Ever since the two of you were little, Jungwon always found a way to laugh at you, talk shit about you or do something to purposely annoy you. Your friends always warned you not to do anything back, that he was only doing it to draw out a reaction, but it was so hard not to whenever you saw his stupid face. The fact that he's so popular in school doesn't help either. Whenever you complain about him to anyone, you're always met with the same thing: "But he's so nice to me." "He's not like that with me." "You must have done something to upset him, Jungwon is the sweetest."

Yeah, sweetest pain in your ass. There is literally nothing about him that you like. It's clear to everyone that you hate Jungwon. 

-

Sitting on your chair, you rest your chin on your palm as you stare at the whiteboard. You're fuming, to say the very least. Written on the board are everyone's names under the club they'd be joining as soon as the bell rings. Yours is supposed to be under piano club but instead it's under chemistry with only one other person who signed up. You barely even know who he is.

"Who's Sunghoon?" Your friend, Yuna, whispers.

You recognise the name (being in the same school for 3 years, it would be kind of rude not to) but you don’t really know who he is. “I think it’s the guy that ice skates.”

"He's so cute," Yuna gawks, "you're lucky you're gonna be alone with him for the rest of the year." 

You scrunch your face at your friend, before letting out a long sigh. "Yeah, doing chemistry." Fuck Jungwon, signing you up for a club that you're already failing in class, just so he can go to piano. You purposefully ran to the piano club stand so that you could sign it before him, but that asshole must have rubbed out your name and written his instead. As much as you despise him, you have to admit that was a clever thing to do. 

Yuna slaps you lightly, "Maybe you can get him to tutor you for free. I heard he gets people to pay him ₩75,000 per hour."

"No, I'm pretty sure the point of chemistry club is to have fun. He's probably gonna be a nerd the entire time," you grumble into your palm, already miserable about the hours and hours you're going to have to spend with a science nerd. There must have been dozens of clubs with spaces still available; Jungwon could have picked another music club, a sports club, literature, art, history, debate, politics, or even maths for God's sake. But the boy chose chemistry. He knows that you're failing all three of your sciences, so not only did he remove you from your favourite club, he put you into your worst enemy—second to Jungwon. God, did you want to pull out his stupid black hair right then.

“You’re not going to let him win this one, are you?” Yuna deadpans, probably bored from your endless war with Jungwon. You don’t blame her, if the tables were turned, you’d probably say the same things she does. “Just leave it.” “If you ignore him he’ll stop.” “Be the bigger person.” Blah blah blah. It would be humiliating to let Jungwon get away with anything. You can’t even imagine it, coming into school everyday and hearing him laugh at you as if he has the upper hand. You would never ever let that happen, not even over your dead body.

Brushing your hair out of your face, you chuckle breathlessly. “As if.” There is absolutely no way in hell that you would let Jungwon get away with ruining your after school club for the rest of the year. You had to come up with something big, something that would make him suffer just as much—no, more—for the whole year, too.

-

Sadly, you didn't have enough time to come up with a plan.

"Okay, so why is a fluoride ion bigger than a sodium ion?" 

You groan loudly, whacking your head against the table for what feels like the fiftieth time. You've been in this room for ten minutes with Sunghoon, and he's already managed to make it boring as hell. Optimistic, you came into this room hoping that Sunghoon would come up with some cool science-y project for the two of you to do. Instead, his idea of fun is extra homework. The guy seriously brought question packs for you two to do for a whole hour. 

What a joke.

"Sunghoon, why are you asking me like I know?"

He gives you a judgemental look, and at this point you're too bored to care about how stupid he thinks you are. You should be practising the piano and making keyboard remixes on the iMacs, not memorising the periodic table with a nerd. 

"Come on," he breaks into a nervous giggle, "this is like, the third question. We haven't even gotten to the hard part yet."

No. There's no way he's taking this club seriously. Dramatically, you push back your chair and glare at him. "You know what, I'm going to go get something to drink. You answer some questions while I'm gone, yeah?" You fake smile at him, unable to look at his nerdy face any longer. God, you hate science kids.

Skipping out of the classroom, you make your way to the vending machine. You need a warm drink to calm your stress down but the cafeteria is too far away so a bottle of apple juice should do. Anything that gives you an excuse to stay away from Sunghoon so that you can focus on your plan to get your revenge on–

"Oh, Y/N! What a coincidence!"

There it is, that dreaded, child-like voice you've grown to hate. Turning around, you're met with his half closed eyes and grin so upturned you can see his baby teeth. If you weren't in the middle of paying for your drink you would have slapped that smirk right off his face. Okay, maybe not, but it's really pissing you off. 

"Yeah right, you probably came here to laugh at me." You grumble, fumbling with the vending machine that's choosing not to be on your side today. 

He smiles again, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging like the oh so innocent boy he is. "I just wanted to check up on how you're doing in your new club. I understand, Y/N," he puts a hand on his chest, pouting, "I really do. Chemistry isn't for everyone."

You whip your head at him immediately, causing him to snort into his hand and break into a laughter that echoes in the empty hallway. "Wow, Jungwon, you're so funny. Don't think for a second that I'm going to let you get away with this."

He comes closer and leans his elbow on the machine so that his head is right above yours, his eyes locking right onto you. Every time he gets close, you're reminded of when Yuna tells you to take a good look at him to see what all the girls in your school sees. But all you can see is an arrogant, stuck up piece of shit—his only entertainment being getting on your nerves. You can see why someone would find him attractive. But his personality is so strong that it practically covers all of his charm to you.

"Admit it," he laughs, "you can't beat me this time. This is one of the best things I've done, I'm kinda' proud of this one. I mean, nothing beats the–"

"Shut up, I am going to beat you. As soon as school's over, I'm coming up with something." You scowl, punching the vending machine so that it will let your bottle fall.

Jungwon coos at you, finding this whole situation amusing. "Aw, is it that hard that it's taking up all your brain space?" He asks in a baby voice. "You can't think of a plan better than mine because you're so busy trying to figure out what O stands for?"

Too focused on the stupid machine, you ignore the menacing voice coming from your left. You've smacked it, shaken it, kicked it, you're not really sure what else there is to do.

Jungwon pushes you out of the way and resets your order, making your jaw drop as you see your bottle that was so close to falling go back to its spot. You shove him back, annoyed that he thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he's stronger than you. "Hey, that was–"

Jungwon sighs dramatically, before bringing out his wallet from his pocket and pulling out a credit card.

"Show off." You mumble, crossing your arms as you watch him dial his order.

"The machine clearly doesn't like you." He smirks, as his coke falls immediately.

You try to hold back how shocked you are, and the urge to ask him to order for you. But with the way Jungwon snickers at you, you can tell he already knows. It isn't like he's going to order for you anyway.

And you're right, because here he is, popping open his can and sipping it right in front of you. He's acting like he's in a commercial for the drink, all just to wind you up. But you can't let him win, you'll never let him win. So you stay, and watch him drink until the last drop and walk away slowly. 

Absolute pain in your ass.

Dear diary,

I hate Jungwon.

You're starting to get sick of starting all your diary entries with the same thing. Jungwon isn't even here; you're in your room, alone. There's nothing to remind you of him. Yet every night, you sit at your desk and scribble in your diary. And every night, you start off each entry reminding you that you hate him.

You flip through your diary entries of the past few weeks, and they're all starting to blur together. Each entry is almost as similar as the last. It's all the same thing—you hate Jungwon. You see him in the morning of school, your mood changes. You're reminded of him in your chemistry club, you get angry. You walk behind him on the way home from school, the two of you are arguing. 

When the hell is this going to end? 

To be honest, thinking about this is just making you hate him even more. The worst thing about this is that you can't even walk it off like you usually do at school. You're used to pacing the school corridors or the track field whenever he makes you really mad. But outside of school, you always meet him. It's either him, or his annoying and inappropriate older friends, or his evil dog. You'd rather rot in your room than risk having to waste your energy fighting with him, or running away from his dog, or pulling your skirt down from his friends. 

You're trapped. He gets to enjoy his life while you're trapped at home, writing “I hate Jungwon” in your diary every single day. The power this guy holds over you is huge, and you just can't wait to move out to college to finally get rid of him.

Walking down the hallway, you bump into your chemistry partner of the past two weeks. To be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever seen this boy outside of the chemistry club, so seeing him now, walking tall, hands in his pockets and a lot of other students around him was quite a shock. You really thought he was nothing more than a nerd. 

As soon as Sunghoon lays his eyes on you, he smiles widely and you can’t help the way your heart flutters a little at that. Did Jungwon really make you so angry about chemistry that you never noticed how good looking Sunghoon is? Or are you just that bad at it that you had no time to focus on Sunghoon’s looks? As he walks away from his friends and towards you, you gulp, brushing down your hair and skirt with your palms that are starting to sweat. You see this guy every single evening, what difference is it now? 

“Hi Y/N,” he smiles, one hand sitting attractively in his pocket and another rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hi,” you reply, but your voice comes out as barely a whisper. You’re a little frightened at how shy you are in front of Sunghoon right now, when you were literally cursing him off in your head yesterday because he laughed at you for not knowing an equation. 

He chuckles, and you swear your heart flips at the way his eyes crease when he does. “You know, I was starting to think that you didn’t even go to this school. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”

Well, at least the feeling is mutual. “Yeah, me neither. I didn’t realise you’re kinda popular.” You say as you eye his large group of friends that are all waiting for him. “It must be the ice skating, right?” You joke, mentally slapping yourself for being rude.

Sunghoon laughs anyway, and he leans forward when does, making your heart nearly jump out of your chest. “Yeah, either that or my brain.”

“Nerd.” You playfully roll your eyes, finally being able to mix together the Sunghoon that gets all excited when he’s got a hard question right, and the Sunghoon that’s standing in front of you right now.

A voice interrupts the two of you. He always does. Whenever you manage to find a little bit of peace at school, Yang Jungwon always finds a way to ruin it. You’re so close to getting him charged for stalking at this point. Both you and Sunghoon turn around to see who was clearing their throat, and you almost growl when you do.

“What do you want?” You snap, not giving him the time of day.

Jungwon tilts his head with an offended look on his face and a hand on his heart like he always does. “That’s rude, Y/N, I was just–”

“She said what do you want.” Sunghoon deadpans beside you out of nowhere.

Jungwon furrows his brows, as do you. Nobody has ever come between the two of you bickering before, this was new to the both of you. You decided to stay quiet and see what Jungwon would say, a little nervous at how this might all play out. 

“What?” Jungwon chuckles, jutting out his chin to make himself appear taller. The two are practically the same height, but something about Sunghoon’s figure makes him seem so much taller than Jungwon. Are you about to witness an alpha brawl out?

Sunghoon doesn’t move, you don’t even think he’s breathing right now. His eyes are trained on Jungwon’s with a glare so intense even you’re a little scared. “Is there something you need to say to Y/N?”

Jungwon’s brows remain furrowed as his eyes narrow and an annoyed look spreads across his face. How ironic, he’s starting to look like you. You don’t think you’ve seen Jungwon this physically frustrated since the time his bike broke when he was thirteen and he tried to kick it but ended up spraining his ankle. He always looks amused. No matter the situation, Jungwon always has a smile on his face. Seeing him like this—threatened—caught you a little off guard.

“I can say whatever the hell I want to her, pretty boy.” He muttered, his face inches away from Sunghoon’s.

Someone behind you whispers something about their sexual tension, almost making you snort at the scene. You have to purse your lips together to stop yourself from laughing, because now you can’t unsee it.

“Well, too bad we have somewhere to be, don’t we, Y/N?” Sunghoon turns to you, and all of a sudden you can feel everyone’s eyes focusing on you.

You giggle awkwardly, before making eye contact with Jungwon. He’s never glared at you like this before, and for the first time you can think of, you feel small in front of him. “Uh, yeah, we should, uh, get going.”

Sunghoon grins at Jungwon as soon as you speak, and barges past his shoulder aggressively before pulling you by your wrist to go and follow him. For some reason, though, you can’t help but turn around to see Jungwon standing there, already looking right at you. 

-

“Sooo,” you sit on a desk as Sunghoon closes the door to the empty classroom the two of you are hiding in behind him, “you gonna’ explain what just happened?”

Sunghoon leans on the desk right in front of you and looks at you blankly, like what just happened didn’t happen at all. “What? You didn’t like it?”

“Like what? Jungwon’s probably going to be so mad because of this.” It’s true, the bike incident when he was thirteen led to him being extra rude for the whole time he was injured. You figure this time it’s his pride that’s hurt, so he’s going to lash out at you until he makes himself feel better. You haven’t even gotten back at him yet for the chemistry club situation, so you really don’t want to be dealing with a moody Jungwon; you’re scared of how creative he’s going to be.

Out of nowhere, Sunghoon lets out a dramatic groan, throwing his head back in vexation as he does. “Come on, Y/N, aren’t you bored of it?”

Confused, you answer. “Of what?”

“This whole cat and mouse deal you have going on with Jungwon? I remember being in the same class as you in our freshman year of high school, and everyone in the class was sick and tired of you two bickering everyday. I thought it’d blow over eventually. How are you still letting this go on?” 

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Of course you’re tired of it. Of course you want it to end. Of course you want nothing to do with Jungwon and you want a peaceful last year of school to focus on your exams and college. Of course you want to be able to hang out with your friends without thinking about Jungwon. Of course you want to write in your diary without mentioning him. Of course you’re sick of this all. But how the hell are you supposed to end it? You hate his guts and he hates yours. His pride may be thick but yours is definitely thicker.

This situation reminds you of the time you did try to be nice to Jungwon once, with the hopes all of this mess would end.

Your mum just got off the phone and suddenly bursted her way into the kitchen. A little startled at her fast movements, you followed her and sat on the counter. “Mum? What’s wrong?” Panicking, she gathered different ingredients and kitchenware to cook something, and you couldn’t be any more confused. “Mum! What’s going on?”

“The Yang family,” she started, already mixing away two eggs, “their son is sick. This is the only time she has ever asked me to do anything, Y/N. That family has looked down on us ever since we moved here, and not once has Mrs Yang ever asked for help. But she’s away, and her boy is at home sick without anyone to feed him. If I don’t make a good impression on that snobby little boy, they’ll think we’re incapable and cruel human beings. I have–”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, not really thinking much of it. As far as you could care, Jungwon could starve. “As long as I’m not the one delivering it,” you mumbled, leaving the kitchen.

Of course you were the one delivering it.

Releasing a long sigh from the pit of your chest, you tried to put aside your pride and hatred to drop off the tray of food for Jungwon. You tried to remind yourself to have some humanity, that he was sick and alone and needed some food. The only thing that managed to help you push through was imagining him begging on his knees for food from you and you holding the tray away from his sick hands’ reach. A little evil, but it helped you press his doorbell.

When Jungwon opened the door, you could feel your heart sink to the ground. All those mischievous thoughts in your mind about teasing him flew out of your mind as soon as you got a good look at his face. He was extremely pale, and his eyes were red and glassy. He looked frail, like a single touch could knock him over. You gasped when you saw him, and immediately took a step inside to go and help him anyway you could.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” You asked, placing the back of your palm on his head that was drenched in his sweat. “Oh, my God, you’re boiling. Jungwon, take your coat off.” Placing the tray on the ground, you tried to help him take off his coat but he wouldn’t budge. Looking back at him, he had a disgusted look on his face.

“What the hell are you doing? My mum said you came here to give me food, not baby me.” He shrugged his coat back on to stop it from sliding off his shoulder and snatched the tray up from the ground.

“What? I’m trying to help-”

“Who asked you to? Piss off, Y/N.”

Standing outside of his house, you were shocked. You were just trying to help him. You put aside the feelings you two had towards each other because he was sick. Even sick Jungwon is an asshole, you thought. That was when you made a mental note to never be nice to this guy ever again. He didn't deserve it.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon waves his hand in front of yours, forcing you out of your daydream. 

You shake your head, “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”

Sunghoon stares at you for quite a while without saying anything, letting you scan his features freely. His dark hair extends at the back of his neck, kind of like a mullet, and it suits him a lot. His eyebrows are sharp, and you inwardly frown at how they look better taken care of than yours. His eyes aren’t anything special, but they’re looking at you intently right now; they look heavy, like he has a lot to say. Sunghoon’s lips, however, God you could stare at them forever. They’re so pink and plumpy, he’s definitely a good kisser.

“Are you staring at my lips right now?” Your eyes snap back to Sunghoon’s eyes in horror that he caught you. He laughs at your reaction, so you follow, covering your mouth with a hand. “So what’s the deal with you and Jungwon?” He asks after the two of you have calmed down. 

You shrug, wanting to avoid his question since you already ask yourself that every single day. “Nothing, really.”

“So, you just argue for fun? Masochism, I like it.” He chuckles, and you dart your eyes at him. “No, no I’m just saying, if you can’t even tell me why you two argue, what’s the point of doing it?” 

It’s a genuine question. It’s a question Yuna has asked you, your teachers have asked you, the other girls in your friend group have asked you, your parents have asked you, but most importantly one that you’ve asked yourself countless times. And you’re annoyed because the answer is there is no answer. You don’t ever remember doing anything to offend Jungwon when he first moved into your neighbourhood or your school. You just remember him being a little shit, thinking he could walk all over and bully you. But your dad brought you up differently, to stand up for yourself. That’s why Jungwon’s always on offence, and you always seem to be on the defence.

“I never start anything,” you look at Sunghoon, and you find it heartwarming how he’s listening so intently, “He’s always the one that approaches me, so I just bite back. If I never did, I would be crushed by now.” You explain, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve.

“So Jungwon’s a bully?” Sunghoon asks, and your body suddenly feels tons heavier. You hate that word, it just doesn’t sound right. 

“No, not a bully.”

“Sounds like it.” Sunghoon shrugs. “He’s mean to you so you’re mean back. Except it’s been going on for years.”

You get up from the desk and sit on another, feeling a little uncomfortable with this situation. “Um, I guess? It doesn’t bother me that much. It’s just becoming repetitive at this point. Today’s the first day he didn’t say something stupid. It was relieving, you know.” You explain, a smile unconsciously growing on your lips. 

“Don’t worry,” Sunghoon comes over, his wide chest blocking your field of vision, “now that you’ve got me around, he won’t bother you as much.”

-

Dear diary, 

I had fun today.

It’s only half way through your diary entry that you notice you didn’t start it off with the infamous “I hate Jungwon.” Actually, reading the entry made you realise how little you even saw him today. The only time you spoke to him was when you were with Sunghoon. How long has it been since the two of you didn’t have a petty argument? You find yourself smiling down at your diary, a wave of relief washing over your body at the thought of Sunghoon being your first step to freedom. 

You also find yourself smiling when you started scribbling down how fun your chemistry club was today. You and Sunghoon barely even finished a question, the two of you talking and laughing the entire time. He even promised that if he was ever free, he’d give you occasional free tutoring for chemistry. Life would be so much easier if Jungwon was more like Sunghoon, wouldn’t it?

Somebody should have warned you that your happiness is short lived, because while you were giving Yuna a detailed update of everything to do with Sunghoon, Jungwon’s voice echoed behind you. You promise yourself that one day, you need to creep up behind him and his friends and cut them off because this was really starting to piss you off.

You and Yuna turn around, both you offering him the exact same defeated look. 

“That Sunghoon guy,” Jungwon starts, taking slow steps towards you. “Since when did you two get close?”

Yuna scoffs loudly, putting a hand on her hip. “Why? You jealous, Yang?” Yeah, as if he would be. He’s probably jealous of you, seeing that tension between them yesterday.

Jungwon laughs sarcastically before turning back to you so fast you had to flinch your head backwards. He was a little too close for your liking so you stepped back. “Yeah, you wish. No, I’m just asking because he’s an asshole, and I don’t want to have to talk to him every time I wanna annoy you.” 

You push his shoulder away from you and laugh in disbelief. “Well, why don’t you just stop trying to annoy me then, huh?” You could tell what you said threw Jungwon off guard a little by the way he twitched his brows. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him take a second to come up with something to say, usually it’s second nature to him. You smirked, thanking God for giving you the upper hand today. “Aww, are you insecure, Jungwon? Does Sunghoon make you insecure?” You ask in that irritating baby voice he always uses on you. “Are you jealous because you’ll never have hair as good as his? Or because you’ll never be as good looking as him? Are you sad that–”

“Y/N, I’m not the one that attracts the opposite sex through pity.” 

That shuts you up completely, and your confidence withers to bits. He’s got that same disgusted look on his face as that day you went to visit him. It’s not like he’s never said something as harsh as that before, so you’re not really sure why this is affecting you so much. As embarrassing as it is to admit, that really hurt.

“First, he has to witness how horrible you are at chemistry. Then he saw you speaking to me, and probably felt bad for you. And let’s not even mention your looks.” Jungwon continues, peeling off every layer you’ve been forced to wrap around yourself ever since you met him. Slowly, he’s stripping away your pride, your dignity, and even your self esteem. “You think I’m jealous of a guy that sleeps around so much he probably has STDs? I think our fighting has made you forget that I also get girls, Y/N. I just don’t flout them for attention like he does.”

“Let’s go,” Yuna whispers, tugging on your sleeve. Your eyes are on the ground, unable to meet Jungwon’s. You’ve never felt so insignificant and helpless in front of him before, your body is unable to catch up with all these new emotions. “Come on, Y/N.”

The two of you are walking down the hallway, making your way to the bathroom. Tears are pooling in your eyes, something Jungwon has never managed to make happen. You feel so stupid, so stupid for letting him break you after all these years. All these years you wasted arguing with him almost every single day of your life. For what? What did either of you get out of it? You’ve never even stopped for a second to consider the words that you two were saying to each other, how much you were hurting each other. Well, you doubt you’ve ever really hurt Jungwon. He’s probably jumping up and down right now, cheering at the thought of finally winning. You just hope this means that it’s all over. You’re exhausted.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon’s voice appears just as you’re about to follow Yuna into the bathroom. 

You feel your breath grow heavier at the sound of his voice, humiliation rippling throughout your body. Maybe that’s why this affected you so much. Maybe it’s because Jungwon was calling you an idiot for thinking Sunghoon liked you. Because apparently he’s just another popular boy. And because apparently, he's just been fooling you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Hurriedly, he walks up to you and places a hand atop your head, his doe eyes boring right into yours. You want to push him away so hard and tell him to go find another girl to play with, but all you can do is stare back at him. “Look, come here.” He pulls you away from the safe space of the female bathroom and right into the disabled ones. 

You don’t know why, but as soon as Sunghoon locks the door, your tears start falling against your will. On instinct, you turn away and bring a hand to stop yourself from sobbing audibly. If what Jungwon said is true, you cannot let Sunghoon see you crying. You’ve read enough romance books to know that bad boys love it when a girl is vulnerable. But Sunghoon doesn’t speak; you’re not even sure he moves. The room is silent, albeit your quick breaths and occasional sobs. At this point, you’re just letting your body move on its own. Your mum always tells you it’s best to cry it out, to let your emotions ride out their course. So you decide to stay there and continue to cry into your already soaked hands. 

Once you’re done wiping away your cheeks and rubbing your eyes, you make your way to the mirror to see what you look like. If Sunghoon wasn’t in the room you would have cried all over again just from seeing your reflection. “Ugh, I’m a mess.”

Sunghoon giggles, and lifts himself up from leaning against the door to come stand behind you. Gently, he brushes away strands of your hair from your face and fixes your collar for you. “I think,” he makes eye contact with you in the mirror, “you look just fine.” 

-

Dear diary,

Unfortunately, I still hate Jungwon.

“No, why are you starting it like that again?” Yuna huffs beside you, probably disappointed at your relapse. It’s been a week since Jungwon made you cry, and it’s been a calm week, too. You never told Sunghoon what happened, but he’s been staying by your side at school since. He likes to call himself your personal bullmastiff, and that he scares away Jungwon who’s only a sheep. Although you’re still terrified that what Jungwon said about Sunghoon being a manwhore is true, there’s still a part of you that hopes it isn’t. You’re hoping he isn’t just hanging around to get in your pants.

“Because I’m mad, Yuna. If we’re really ending this, I can’t be the only one that’s upset about it. I need to think of one final thing to get back at him. Something that will really hurt him.” You explain, really disappointed in how much you’ve been lacking this school year. You haven’t gotten him back once, and it’s frustrating you.

“Hm, what about his motorbike?” Yuna asks, an evil glint to her eyes.

“No.” You shake your head. “No way. I would love to, believe me–”

“So why not?”

“Because his parents would kill me!”

“Oh come on, that bike costs to them what a piece of gum costs to us, Y/N.”

“No, I heard him tell his friend. You know that pervert, Heeseung? Yeah, they were talking about it and Jungwon was saying that it’s from a limited series and that his parents had to fly out to Thailand to bid for it.” You whisper, for some reason you don’t really know. “Thailand, Yuna.”

“Okay, why don’t we wear masks? We can get Sunghoon to help us, too. You know, like them ski masks.” Yuna motions the mask with her hands, a persuasive look on her face. You’re tempted to, you really are. The thought of taking the only thing that Jungwon seems to have human feelings for away from him is very tempting.

“But wait, he wouldn’t know it’s me.”

“Uh, Y/N, that’s a good thing? If he knows it’s you, you’d be sued.” 

“Oh, yeah, true.”

“We can enjoy our victory from afar, okay?”

You suck in a deep breath. “Okay.”

-

This may be the worst idea you’ve ever thought of in your entire life.

Here you are, standing in between Sunghoon (who Yuna had to convince for hours to come along) and Yuna. The three of you are wearing your ski masks, but Sunghoon is too much of a cheapskate to buy a new one so he’s wearing his dad’s bright blue mask and making the three of you look stupid. 

“Okay, on the count of three–”

“No wait!” Sunghoon’s voice squeaks as he whisper-shouts.

You and Yuna whip your heads into his direction, stunned at his voice crack. “Sunghoon, you’re the only guy here!” You whisper-shout back. “You can’t be the scared one.”

“I have never broken the law before, if I get caught doing this my parents are going to kill me, Y/N.” He panics, yet neither of you can take him seriously with his idiotic mask on. 

“What are you talking about? I’m pretty sure you broke about five laws driving us here in your mum’s car.” You snap, before looking at Yuna. “But maybe he’s r–”

“No, guys it’s now or never.” Yuna whispers, before tugging on both yours and Sunghoon’s sleeves, running ahead. Your veins are booming so loud you’re worried someone will be able to hear it. Arriving at the tail of the motorcycle, you raise a trembling finger to touch it. You gasp when you do, already mentally hearing the sounds of sirens coming closer and closer.

Yuna pulls out a hairpin and shoves it into the keyhole of the motorcycle while you and Sunghoon crouch and cower behind her, failing to keep a proper look out. This feels so wrong, but it’s too late to go back now. Sunghoon’s stupid mask is probably plastered all over the CCTVs already. You’ll probably need a miracle to not get yourself landed in prison.

Yuna whimpers as she struggles to switch on the engine. You’re starting to panic even more now, the thought of this all going horribly wrong circling your mind repeatedly. “It’s not working!” She yells, and you and Sunghoon look at each other with wide eyes. 

“Go help her!” You motion at him, your heart drumming louder than it ever has before.

“What do you mean go help her, why don’t you go help her?!” Sunghoon doesn't budge and only tightens his hold on the tail of the motorcycle.

“No, I’m keeping look out!”

“No you’re not, you’re looking at me!”

“Will you two shut up and come help me?!” Yuna screams, and you shoot up to go over and help her. It’s useless, though. No matter how much the two of you twist and turn the hairpin, the engine doesn’t turn on. “Why isn’t it working? We practised this like a thousand times!”

“I don’t know! Maybe because it’s a limited edition?!” You scream back, the plan blowing up in your face. 

“Fuck!” Yuna slams the head of the bike in anger as you start to lose control of your breaths. “I think I’ve broken the keyhole.” 

You groan loudly, closing your eyes to think of a way to fix this. Trying so hard to calm yourself down, you attempt to come up with another plan. It’s either that or the three of you need to escape—now

But as always, Jungwon’s voice interrupts you. His timing is probably his only positive attribute.

“Hey!” He barks at the other end of the road, making you and Yuna look at each other like you’ve seen a ghost. He’s running as fast as he can, so much so you can see his forehead shining under the street lights. 

“Let’s ditch the bike!” 

“No! We can’t let this all be for nothing!” 

“Out of the way ladies!” Sunghoon’s voice appears out of nowhere, and you turn to see him standing over the bike with a large pole in his hands. Oh, my God. Instinctively, you and Yuna jump off the bike and run behind Sunghoon to watch him do his dirty work.

You poke out your head, trying to catch your breath and a glimpse of Jungwon. “He’s close, hurry up!”

“No!” Jungwon screams, reaching his arms out, dread written all over his little baby face. “Stop, please!”

Sunghoon ignores him and draws back the pole before slamming it against the metal of the motorcycle. He hits it again and again, parts flying all over the place each time. He yells at every impact, like he was beating up a person. 

Jungwon arrives, and you can't help but notice his breaths are shaky and the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. He pulls Sunghoon away from you and punches him right in the jaw, a roar ripping right from the bottom of his lungs. The light sensors of the neighbouring houses switch on, and some neighbours even come out to take a peek. With the rush of the scene flowing through your veins, and the fear that all of this is for nothing, you pick up the pole that fell out of Sunghoon’s hands and hit the bike yourself. Hearing Jungwon beg like that so helplessly for the first time in your life only fuels your anger even more. Each whack, each hit, your mind flashes back to the times Jungwon hurt you, the times Jungwon forced you to build another wall.

“What’s the point of going to the school dance? It’s not like anybody wants to go with you, anyway.” Whoops, there goes the headlight.

“Oh, my God, you might as well go home if you’re going to be dressed like that the entire trip. Stop embarrassing us.” Oh no, the brake is broken.

“You failed chemistry again? Look, guys, she got 10%! What a loser!” Aw man, now the gas tank is leaking.

Before you can damage the bike anymore, Yuna pulls you back into reality. She’s yelling something at you, but your eyes can’t help but focus on Jungwon struggling against Sunghoon’s hold. 

“Please! No, please stop! I’ll give you anything you want, just get away from my bike!” 

He’s crying. 

Your surroundings suddenly blur as Yuna pulls you towards the car you guys came in. She shoves you in while telling you something but you can’t shift your attention from Jungwon who’s now given up and is laying still on the floor. He isn’t even fighting Sunghoon anymore. He’s just still, the base of his palms rubbing his eyes as his tears roll off his cheeks and fall onto the floor.

You made Jungwon cry. You made Yang Jungwon cry.

-

You're ashamed. You can't even step outside your house without making sure your hood is well over your head, hiding your face for anyone to see. There's no way anyone in the neighbourhood could know that it was you, right? You were completely covered; it could have been any two girls and a guy who smashed Jungwon's precious bike and brought him to tears.

Literal freaking tears.

In all the years you two have fought, Jungwon only ever smiles. He grins, or laughs that really annoying laugh where he throws his head back and stamps his feet on the floor. He pretends to be upset by putting a hand on his heart and squeezing his eyes shut, letting out an exaggerated gasp. He pretends to be mad by putting his hands on his hips and tilting his head so far sideways his hair looks like it's about to fall off. Jungwon is expressive, he enjoys winding you up by acting out his emotions—real or fake—dramatically. You've always hated it, but now you're praying that you're going to meet him on your way to school and he'll pretend to whine about how much you hurt him last night.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, waiting at the end of the road for Jungwon to appear. You're not really sure why. What are you even going to say if you see him? You can't even apologise for what you've done, his parents would definitely put you behind bars. The wait is killing you, impatience stirring in your stomach at an outrageous speed. Gulping, you contemplate whether you should go knock on his door or not. Maybe he's oversleeping because he's tired from last night. Maybe if you knock, he'll wake up and nag at you for babying him like he did before.

Without really thinking, you head straight to his front door step with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Breathing in, you press the doorbell. His house is huge, and the noise the doorbell makes almost frightens you out of your skin. The loud ring echoes in your mind loudly as you tap your foot on the ground and keep your eyes locked onto the door. You press it again. And again. And again.

And then you wait.

But Jungwon never comes out. Nobody does. Not him, his sister or his parents. You're even hoping some sort of maid will come and open the door. But nobody does. You're trying not to overthink the situation: maybe he's just being a teenage boy and angry that his bike is broken so he's decided to skip school today. 

The thought calms you down a little bit, so you turn around to leave. While turning back to the entrance, something shiny catches your eye around the corner of Jungwon's front yard. Curious, you scuttle towards it and poke your head around to see what it is. Your heart drops when you do. There it is. Jungwon's motorcycle that you smashed to pieces last night. Laying next to it, is an open box of tools, an unfinished cup of coffee, and Jungwon's jacket that he always wears under his blazer. The guilt at the pit of your stomach spreads around your body, squeezing your heart and scraping at your throat. Did he really stay up all night trying to fix it all by himself? 

Did you go too far?

-

"Come on, you're being weird." Sunghoon crosses his arms, not shifting his gaze away from you.

Usually, you appreciate his attentiveness because it makes you feel special and gets you all shy, but today it isn’t doing you any good. You chuckle breathlessly and pull the sheet of paper towards you. "So I just need to calculate the mass of this mole, right? Using this equation?"

Sunghoon sighs, "Y/N, you know you can tell me what's wrong, right?" 

You look up to meet his heavy gaze, his face already so close to yours. "No? Just because you chose to follow me around at school doesn't mean we're best friends, Sunghoon. It doesn't mean I can pour my heart out to you."

His expression doesn't falter, a blank look sitting on his face. "Then what are we?"

You pause, not really knowing how to answer that question. You're aware that he gives you butterflies, and that you find him attractive. But what about what Jungwon said about him sleeping around? Hasn't Sunghoon stayed around long enough for it to be more than that? Or is that all you guys are - good friends? But then why would Sunghoon ask that question? 

Confused and already emotionally drained from your crime yesterday, you scrunch up the question sheet in your hand and get up from your chair. Without saying a word to Sunghoon, you leave.

-

At home, you’re lying on your couch, flicking through the channels on the television. Nothing is exciting you since you can’t seem to pay attention to anything. There are only two things on your mind right now. Jungwon and Sunghoon.

As for Jungwon, you can’t stop picturing him in that little alleyway beside his house—sweating away, hurting himself trying to fix his motorcycle. He’s probably not eaten any real food in awhile, desperate to get it back to how it was before you and Yuna came up with that stupid plan. You groan into your hands, thinking about how you never thought you’d live to see the day you’d feel bad for Jungwon. Doesn’t he deserve this? Why does this bike mean so much to him? He can just fly out to Thailand and buy another one, right?

Then your thoughts suddenly shift to Sunghoon. If he really is the manwhore Jungwon pinned him out to be, how come he’s been nothing but supportive since you and Jungwon stopped talking to each other? There are no girls, you can’t see them. The only way it would be possible is if he has this whole other life outside of school. The partying, drinking and sex type of life. He said he’s never broken the law before, but he seemed pretty confident driving his mum’s car with one hand on the wheel and another on the radio. Do you even know Sunghoon? Sure, he’s a science nerd and likes to ice skate. But what else is there to him?

You sigh when the sound of the doorbell interrupts your thoughts. It’s 10pm, who could possibly be ringing at this time of night? Groggily, you get up, fixing your bun so you look a bit more appropriate for whoever it is that’s ruining your free time. Peering through the peephole, you’re only met with a man in a black hood who’s purposefully hiding his face from the door. A little worried, you call your mum over. “Mum! There’s a creepy man at the door!”

She hops out of the kitchen with a meat knife in one hand, a frying pan in the other and a terrified look on her face. “You take the knife,” she whispers, “and hide behind me while I hold the pan and see what this guy wants.”

“Wait, why am I holding the knife?” You point at yourself, your mum’s behaviour starting to affect you, too. 

The doorbell rings again and you both flinch. “Because if he sees the knife in my hand he might attack. So you hide behind me, okay? I’m just going to open the door like an inch wide, don’t worry.” Her eyes are wide while she tries to convince you to follow through with her not-well-thought out plan. 

You do anyway. “Okay.”

You take the knife from your mum before the two of you sneak towards the door. Hesitantly, she opens it, and the thought of her life being taken right before you flashes in your mind for a second. Right before she lets out a relieved laughter, a hand on her chest. “It’s just the Yangs’ kid, Y/N. Don’t scare me like that again.”

Jungwon? What the hell is he doing here? You poke your head out from beside her and see Jungwon looking down at his feet that are awkwardly kicking the floor. “I didn’t know it was him, sorry.” You mutter, furrowing your brows at him.

“I am so sorry, Jungwon. Is there something you need?” Your mum asks, widening the door. When he looks up, you can’t help but cringe. His eye bags are heavy, and his lips are so chapped they’re peeling. Not to mention how red and sore his eyes are, he’s struggling to even keep them open. He’s worse than the time you went to give him the tray of food. You don’t even realise that you two are staring at each other silently until your mum speaks up again. “Is something wrong?”

His eyes quickly divert to your mum’s and he clears his throat aggressively. “No, uh, I just wanted to know if your husband is here.”

Your mum shakes her head, “No, he’s visiting his brother right now. He won’t be back for a few days.” 

“Can you call him?” You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungwon speak so meekly before. It’s odd, and the thought that you may have broken him makes your toes curl.

“Yes, yes, what do you want me to say?”

“How to fix a motorcycle brake. I remember that he had one a few years ago, so I thought he’d know.” 

“Oh! Was it your motorbike that got smashed by those teenagers?” Jungwon nods, his eyes falling to the ground again. “Ms Jung showed me her CCTV cameras and how horrible those kids were. Their parents really need to sort them out.” She tuts, pulling out her phone.

Even your mum is disgusted by your behaviour last night. Of course she is, what you did was way out of line. You play with your fingers as the guilt travels further, making you a lot more jittery than usual. “My dad’s break broke once and he showed me how to fix it. I can, uh, help if you want.” It’s the least you can do, an easy repair, indirectly apologise, and throw away this stupid guilt so you can focus on getting your school life back on track. Maybe after you help him fix his bike, the two of you can finally be even and put your pettiness in the past once and for all.

Jungwon only looks you in the eyes, not saying anything. They remind you of Sunghoons’; loud and heavy. 

“Oh, okay, that’s perfect. You go and help him. I’ll bring some snacks later.” Your mum pushes you out of the house, and you curse her for doing so when all you’re wearing is a hoodie, a pair of cycling shorts, and slippers. “Bye!” She waves, shutting the door in your face before you can even speak.

Well, this is awkward. Turning around, you try to put on a smile to Jungwon, but his eyes flicker straight from your eyes to your mouth before he storms back to his house. You follow him with a huff, realising that this is going to be a long hour. Catching up to him, you throw your hood over your head and stuff your hands in your pockets to try and stay warm. “So,” you start, trying to get straight to the point, “if we’re lucky, all you’ll need to do is clean the pistons. You know, those little metal things that open and close w-”

“I know what a piston is.” He grumbles, opening his gate. “I would have done that if that girl didn’t smash it off my bike.” 

Your eyes lower as he unknowingly mentions you, and try to shake off the feeling of guilt again. You never would have guessed this would have hurt him this much. But then again, isn’t that what you wanted? “Oh,” you chuckle awkwardly, “well then this is gonna take a long time.” 

The two of you arrive at the corner, and that’s when you notice there are three more cups of coffee lying next to the bike. You purse your lips, trying to throw away the imagination of him desperately attempting to stay awake, pushing his body well past its limits all in order to fix what you broke. 

“Okayyy,” you whisper, copying Jungwon by getting on your knees, followed by a hiss once you feel the cold rocky ground. Clearing your throat, you turn to him, who still has an emotionless look on his face. You really wish he would do something right now. You wouldn’t even mind it if he made fun of you. Staring at him like this, like an empty shell, is too much to bear. “So, where’s the brake?” You put out your hand, and Jungwon complies by giving it to you. Observing it, you’re relieved that it hasn’t been damaged too much, and that it’s okay to put it back on the bike. “First, we need to take the callipers off the bike.” You don’t explain what it is this time, since he got agitated when you did it before. “Should I do one side and you do the other?” 

He nods, so you crawl over to the other side, and together, the two of you start working on the bike.

After around twenty minutes of silent working, you decide to ask a question that’s been on your mind since the second you saw him cry. “Jungwon?” You ask. He doesn’t respond, but you know that he hears you. “Why don’t you just get your parents to buy you another one?”

It takes him a while to reply, you assume he’s just busy with the clamps. “They can’t. There’s no more on sale.” 

You’re aware that it sounds a bit harsh, but you still push. “Can’t they just buy another brand?” 

Jungwon’s eyes meet yours through the tiny gaps between the motorcycle parts. “I don’t want another one.”

You sigh at his vague responses. “Okay, what about hiring someone to come and fix your bike? Or getting a friend, literally anyone-”

Abruptly, Jungwon throws the clamp onto the floor, the ring of the metal bouncing around your skull. “I didn’t ask you to come and help, you know? You offered. If you don’t want to, there’s nothing stopping you from leaving.” He spits, his eyes piercing into yours angrily. 

You put your hands up in a feign defence. “I’m sorry, I was just asking.” You mutter under your breath, a little shocked at his reaction. “I’m okay with fixing the bike, it just looked like you didn’t wanna ask so I was telling you there are other options.” 

Jungwon sighs, before picking up the clamp and getting back to work. “I know.” He mumbles, and you can hear the piston creaking under the pressure of his clamp hold. “I know there are other options, but I don’t trust any of them with this bike. I’ve known your dad for a while and I remember how much he cared about his bike, so I thought I’d just ask him to help.” The thought of Jungwon trusting your dad over his creepy friends makes you feel a lot better, but the sound of the piston about to snap distracts you.

Crawling back over, you return to Jungwon’s side. You don’t even notice that your thighs are touching each other when you reach out to take the clamp from his hands. He looks at you a little alarmed, but you respond with an awkward smile. “You’re putting too much pressure. You have to unstick one piston at a time, if you do it like that it’ll snap.” You explain, opting to do it yourself to save some time.

“How come you know how to fix a break?” He asks randomly, startling you a little bit. 

You stay focused while you answer him, your eyes not moving from the clamp. “Sometimes my dad teaches me things like this. He says he does it because he doesn’t have a son.”

“What other things has he taught you?” 

Since this is the first real conversation you’ve ever had with Jungwon, you decide not to question why he cares about your relationship with your dad so much.  “How to ride a bike, how to play football, how to put up a shelf, how to fix a laptop that’s had water spilled on it.” You giggle at the last one, memories piling into your head. Jungwon doesn’t say anything else so you turn around to see why. He’s just staring at your hands working with the clamp, so you choose to fill in the tense silence. “The time he broke his break, he called me over while I was studying. I told him that it’s not important since a motorcycle break and a bike break are two completely different things and that this would never come in handy.” You face Jungwon again, and his eyes meet yours. “Turns out it did come in handy.” 

There’s a moment, a long moment of comfortable silence with the two of you staring at each other. For the first time, you notice the shape of his eyes and how delicately pulled out they are. They’re kind of pretty, in a boyish sort of way. You can’t really believe you’ve been staring at these eyes for the past eight years without ever finding yourself swimming in them until now. 

Jungwon scoffs, breaking eye contact before taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m surprised you didn’t turn out heavy handed since you were basically brought up as a boy,” he mutters against the cup.

With that, you unconsciously suck in such a deep breath of air. A wave of relief washes over your body as you let out an incredibly loud laugh at his comment. There he is, the asshole that is Yang Jungwon. You seriously thought you broke him, but hearing him say something so rude wiped away any and all of your doubt. 

He’s back. And you couldn’t be more than happy about it. 

-

Walking into school the next day, you’re a little bit anxious. You’re anxious because:

You might bump into Sunghoon and he might start asking scary questions again

You might bump into Jungwon and have to start fighting again

You don’t want either of those scenarios to happen. So when Sunghoon spots you and says goodbye to his friends, you panic and pull onto your friend’s sleeve. “Quick, pretend we’re having a really serious and private conversation.”

She panics and tries to think of something to say. “Uh, I made out with Sunghoon at Ryujin’s party!” With her eyes shut, in front of everyone in the hallway, your friend, Chaeryeong, admitted to sleeping with Sunghoon. You spot him from the corner of your eye, freezing once he heard what Chaeyoung said, and you wait for him to come over and ask why you two are making up shit about him. He doesn’t. 

“Are you being serious right now? I said pretend, Chaeryeong.” Your hand slips away from hers as you look at her in pure disbelief.

“I’m sorry, it’s been on my mind a lot recently because he’s been hanging out with you so much. So when you said say something serious, that was the first thing I could think of.” She rushes, clearly panicked by your response.

“Wait,” you take a step closer to whisper, “When was this? Recently?”

She gives you a worried look, before turning around to see Sunghoon and then turning back to you. “Last, uh, Saturday?”

Saturday. Last Saturday. That was only four days ago. Four days ago you were FaceTiming him while he was helping you with your physics homework. Four days ago was when you asked if he could help you finally get over the Jungwon situation, and he told you that he really wanted to help because he couldn’t stand to see you so hurt. Four days ago was when you told Yuna you think you have a crush on him.

Stepping away, you give one last glance at Sunghoon. “I can't believe you,” you mutter, before turning around and storming away. You tell yourself the reason why you didn’t go up to him and scream in his face is because of the attention you would have gained, but it isn’t; you’re too scared to face him because you were already warned about him ages ago. As funny as it sounds, you should have listened to Jungwon.

-

“What?! Chaeryeong? Our Chaeryeong?” Yuna chokes on her water, surprised.

“Yeah,” you sigh, scribbling away in your notebook. “I’m not really bothered about that, I mean she can sleep with whoever she wants. It’s just, I really thought there was something between me and Sunghoon.” 

Yuna kisses her teeth before shaking her head. “Even I thought there was. Why is he always with you if he’s sleeping with other girls?” Her body simultaneously shivers with yours. “That’s just gross.”

“Maybe he just sees me as a friend. You know in those romance books where the hot guy who gets all the girls appreciates the girl who doesn’t wanna have sex with him and likes hanging around with her?”

“Y/N, they always end up falling in love.”

“Oh. Well, that’s not happening, is it?” You slouch in your seat. 

Jungwon walks into the room, and you smile at Yuna, happy to know that he’s back on his feet. You wait for him to say the same thing he always does when he walks past you to get to his seat. Anxiously, your foot taps on the ground as you nibble on your bottom lip, your eyes not moving from Jungwon’s.

Yuna taps you and leans in to whisper, “You can see it now, right?” Her eyebrows giggle, a huge smirk on her lips.

You cringe at what she said, refusing to let her silly thoughts get to your head. “Shut up,” you mutter, before turning back to see Jungwon talking to another classmate. You hate to admit it, but your eyes do linger on him a little longer. You can’t help but notice the long, dark strands of hair that almost cover his eyes. His nose and jawline are sharp, contrary to his soft and small lips. Your eyes trail down to his Adam's apple as he speaks, and you watch as it bobs up and down attentively. It’s strange that you’ve known Jungwon for so long, yet you’ve never actually taken the time out of your day to really look at him. Because he’s actually really good looking.

“See?” Yuna giggles, slapping your arm playfully. “You’re staring.”

Your head darts to her direction with wide eyes. “I’m just waiting for him to come over.”

“Nu-uh, you’re finally listening to me. I told you he gets girls.” She motions for you to lean in closer while she whispers. “Last year, I peeked into his locker on Valentine’s Day, and I counted thirteen letters, Y/N. Thir-teen.” 

Thirteen girls gave Jungwon a love letter last year? You scoff, resting your chin on your palm as you look at him again. If they knew what you knew, that Jungwon is a total asshole, you bet they’d run far away from him. “I don’t get it. Is it just because of his looks? Are they that shallow?”

Yuna shrugs from beside you. “Well, I’ve heard a lot of good things about him.”

You laugh sarcastically, “Are you gonna talk about the time he helped that one new student when she dropped her books on the floor again?”

“Well, there’s that. But there are other things, too, that I’ve tried to tell you but you just turn down because you hate him so much. Like the time he stopped a boy from getting bullied. It was so cool, Y/N, he just shoved the bully in his shoulders and looked him right in the eyes and told him to fuck off.” 

Something twists in your stomach at that word. It reminds you of when Sunghoon asked if 

Jungwon is just a bully. You can’t be staring at him now, talking about all the good deeds he’s done and why all the girls in your school have a crush on him. He’s mean. He’s insulted you, belittled you, degraded you. You could go on and on about all the times Jungwon has hurt you and laughed in your face whenever he did. He’s a selfish, spoiled rich kid that derives entertainment from picking on you. And like all your friends warn you not to do, you react, dragging it out longer. Maybe if you just stayed silent in the first place, this would have never continued for so long. 

Blinking, you suddenly realise that Jungwon is batting his eyes at you right in front of your face. You gasp, furrowing your eyes and jerking back once you realise how close his face is to yours. Shit, you spaced out and he caught you staring.

“What you staring at, number 23?” He asks, his old grin back on his face.

“Number 23?”

“Class ranks are up on the board.” He explains, and your heart drops to your feet when you realise what he’s saying. “You know,” Jungwon gets up, hands in his pockets as he peers down at you with that familiar evil glint in his eyes. “I thought signing you up for chemistry club would at least get you into the teens. But you only moved up one spot? One?”

Okay, you may have wanted normal Jungwon back, but did his first strike have to be so harsh? Getting up, you realise your legs are trembling. Something inside of you is telling you not to bite back this time, that it’s not worth it. If you truly want this war to end, then you have to be the bigger person and back down. Pursing your lips, you simply walk past him to follow the crowd of students into the hallway to see the class rankings. 

“Oh. My. God, Y/N. You should have seen the look on his face!” Yuna laughs, but you can’t join her. It was embarrassing to let him talk down to you like that. You wish you said something, but this needs to end. This is the first step you need to take.

“Let’s just focus on our class rankings for now.” You say, approaching the wall. 

Although Jungwon made fun of your rank, you have to hide a smile when you see it. It’s not high at all, but at least you’ve improved. With everything that’s been going on recently, you need something positive to cling onto. You pull out your phone to call your mum about your improvement, excited to hear about how proud she’ll be. 

But a voice from behind stops you. You can feel the heat of his body so close to yours, and your heart immediately starts doing backflips. “23rd? That means I’m going to have to spend a lot more time tutoring you, right?” His voice is uplifted, and that pisses you off even more.

Turning around, you furrow your brows and fold your arms. “Really? Are you just going to pretend that–”

Sunghoon, with his hands buried in his pockets and his lips pursed, shrugs. “I asked you what we are, and you just left.” 

That is very true. You did, quite rudely, leave. You erased that part of your day from your mind, and even avoided writing it down in your diary. All you needed was time, because the following week was when you and Yuna figured out what your feelings are towards him. Sighing, you answer. “I know.”

“I helped you break–” he pulls on your blazer to drag the two of you away from the crowd as he leans in to whisper, “I helped you break Jungwon's bike. I know you think that that's a normal thing for a guy like me, but it isn't. I don't go around, smashing people's things, you know. I did that for you, and all I got was a little thank you text.”

Everything he's saying is true, and that's frustrating you further.

“You can't be mad about who I sleep with, Y/N. I've been hovering around for so long, and still, the only guy you think of is Jungwon.”

“What are you even hanging around for, though? Jungwon he-he told me that you treat girls like trophies. I thought–” The eye contact Sunghoon holds with you is intense, he doesn't turn away once. You're too scared to break it because you've never seen him this serious before. 

“So you believed him over me? Someone that you ‘hate’ over a friend? You didn't even bring that up with me, Y/N!" He whisper-shouts, pressing an arm against the lockers beside him so that he can lower his head to meet yours. “You need to ask yourself what's your deal with Jungwon, because I'm not sure you really know what it is.” Gently, he lets go of your blazer and dusts it down with his hands, causing you to blush intensely. 

“You're gonna keep me up all night because of this, now, you know that, right?” You chuckle sarcastically, keeping your eyes on his hand that's lingering above yours. 

He chuckles back, “I know.” His hand stops hovering, and goes back to his pocket.

Looking up at him, you smile endearingly. “We can still be friends, right? Even if whatever this is doesn't sort out the way we want it to, you'll still be my friend.”

"Ayyyyy,” Sunghoon laughs, but it seems forced, and presses a finger into your shoulder. “You're just saying that for the free tutoring lessons.” 

-

Dear diary,

I hate Jungwon.

You groan into your arms after you realise what you've just written, disappointed in yourself. It's embarrassing to admit that Sunghoon is right, that Jungwon is constantly on your mind. If it's not the awful things he's said, or the stupid pranks he's played, then it's the way he puckers his lips together when he snorts out a laugh, or the way he wiggles his eyebrows at you to try and piss you off. You've probably never even scratched the surface of Jungwon's mind, yet he somehow lives in yours constantly.

A ping from your phone distracts you from your thoughts.

jung_1: my tire popped

you: and?

jung_1:  use your daddy skills to come and fix it

you:  if u think u can jus tell me what to do ???? then you're vv wrong :/

jung_1:  u came before what's wrong this time?

you: im busy

jung_1: so am i but i can't get anything done without my bike

you: u need to get it checked out professionally

ik u have some weird attachment issues to it but fixing the brakes and tires isn't enough to get that thing up and running again

jung_1: well, miss 23, unlike u i have a brain

fixing everything one at a time v slowly will work eventually

patience is key

so can u jus come already

you: what's in it for me?

jung_1: idk wtf

food?

you: do i look like a dog to u

jung_1: idk??? u name it ill get whatever u want

you: ok fine whatever

After you get dressed to go to Jungwon's house, you scribble one last thing into your diary before you go. 

Let's hope that when I come back, I won't be saying that I hate him again.

-

With a bag of food from your mum to give to Jungwon's parents, you ring his doorbell hesitantly. You will never get over the difference between your house and his despite the fact that you two live just a few houses away from each other. While yours is small and cosy with a garden full of roses and apple trees, Jungwon's stands tall—so modern that it doesn't even have a front garden, it's all just rock hard concrete. 

Opening the door you're met with a sour face when Jungwon looks you up and down. “What's that?” He asks, pointing at your carrier bag.

You inwardly sigh, reminding yourself of the trouble he's putting himself through because of you. “Homemade kimbap.” You hand it to him and he takes it cautiously, eyeing the bag like you hid a bomb in it. “Relax, my mum made it.”

Jungwon's head pops right up when you say that, and you swear his lips are trying their best not to pull up into a smile. Clearing his throat, however, he returns to his normal bitter expression and brushes his hair out of his gaze. “Whatever, come inside while I get dressed.” 

It's only when Jungwon mentions it that you look down and notice that he’s only wearing a pair of underwear. Making a mental note to never visit a teenage boy's house unannounced again, you awkwardly hop inside and sit on the kitchen counter that he directs you to wait at. 

While Jungwon is away, you're left with the housemaid. You've always guessed that they had one, yet you've never seen her leave the house before. Anyone could mistake this for slavery, how scary. 

“Are you Jungwon's friend?” She asks, opening the bag of kimbap that you brought. You nod, deciding it's best not to explain your confusing and infuriating situation to Jungwon's housemaid, and she smiles endearingly, taking out the food. “I'm surprised. He's only ever brought those two hooligans over.”

“Jeongseong and Heeseung?” You ask, chuckling.

She laughs with you at the mention of Jungwon's awful friends who you are secretly afraid of. “They're like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, them two. It's nice to see that some of his friends are sane.” As soon as she unwraps and sees the food, however, the housemaid gasps, a repelled look on her face.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, worried.

“Jungwon can't eat this, it isn't fresh.”

You open your mouth to explain that it had only just been cooked a few hours ago, but choose not to. This is Jungwon's rich and snobby lifestyle, there's no point arguing with someone who knows him a lot better than you do.

“What a waste,” she sighs, “I'll just have to throw it away.” You really want to yell at the woman for disrespecting your mother's food, but the thought of Jungwon's parents catching you screaming at their trusted maid through a secret camera and suing you scares you too much to do so.

But just before she's able to throw it away, Jungwon appears in a zipped up coat and joggers, an arm in front of the bin. “No, no, no, no, Mrs Kim, it's okay.” He says softly, a hand resting on her back as he smiles at her.

Smiles. Like, really smiles. He's acting so gentle around her it's scaring you. Lightly, he takes the dish from her hands and settles it on the middle counter opposite you. He doesn't look up, he just opens the tinfoil and lets his jaw drop slightly at the kimbap your mum forced you to roll for him. You'll never let him know that, though.

“Jungwon, it isn't fresh, you'll get sick.” Mrs Kim retorts, but he's already digging one out. You and Mrs Kim both silently watch Jungwon eat his food contently, and you hate to say it but he eats in such a cute way. His cheeks puff out and he takes such small nibbles of the food, like he's savouring it all. 

“Your mum made this?” He asks, his eyes wide. 

A little thrown off by him, you play with the strings of your jacket. “Uh, yeah. She just told me to bring this when I said I was coming over.” You answer awkwardly. He isn’t throwing any insults at you, and that’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. 

He raises his brows while nodding, continuing to eat his food, leaving you and Mrs Kim standing beside each other in an odd silence. That is, until she leans in to whisper something to you. “He’s never eaten my kimbap so happily before, I wonder what your mum put in this one.” There’s a scowl on her face as bitterness lingers around her words.

You chuckle breathlessly, not really sure why Jungwon’s devouring your mum’s kimbap either. “It’s nothing special.”

Jungwon eyes the two of you before mumbling, “Stop staring.” and grabbing the rest of the food and making his way towards the door. You hesitantly scuttle behind him after giving Mrs Kim an undeserved bow. What a rude woman.

“How’d you pop it?” You ask, staring at the tire in horror as you realise the inner tube is punctured and this is going to be a very long job.

He chuckles, rubbing his hand at the nape of his neck, “Uh, I left my glass out and when I was pushing the bike it kinda just rolled over it.”

Sighing, you give him a defeated expression, “Seriously? You just added to the list of things that I’ve already broken.”

“What?”

You have to stop your breath for a second in order to hide the look of down right fear on your face as you almost slipped the crime you committed. “List of things that need fixing, I mean.” You shake your head and tut, trying to act out feign annoyance. Slowly, you peer over to Jungwon to see if he’s caught on, and he’s just staring blankly. Clearing your throat, you decide changing the topic is your best option right now. “Uhm, do you have a puncture kit?”

Jungwon, after a very long staredown, eventually replies and hands over the kit to you. You have to thank the skies for not throwing you under the bus because that was way too close. Even your hands are shaking a little as you open the kit and get on your knees, the nerves making you very tense. You don’t even have the courage to start up a conversation, and so the two of you work in silence like you did the last time. 

After about an hour in, Jungwon speaks up. “My parents bought this for me.” 

Ignoring the way you jumped at the way his voice suddenly appeared out of nowhere, you scoff. “Well, it’s not like you’ve had to work a day in your life to earn enough money to buy this.”

The dark haired boy huffs, clearly vexed. “No, I mean, they actually bought it. Like it wasn’t just a written cheque, or money into my bank account, or bought online. They flew to Thailand with me to buy it.” He explains, and when you turn to him, his eyes are boring into yours. 

“Okay, and?” You chuckle again, not really paying much mind to his words and focusing on your work instead. It’s just a bike, what is he trying to say that’s so important?

Abruptly, he brings his hand to his laps and flashes you an offended look. Worried that you’ve pressed the wrong buttons, you stop too, quietly letting him continue. “You asked why I only wanted your dad’s help. I’m answering you, okay?”

“Okay, I get it.” 

“It’s- they don’t do that, they don’t go out with me for..me.” You still don’t have a clue what he’s talking about, but you nod anyway. “This bike, it’s the only reminder I have at this point that my parents love- not love, but, ugh, you know what I mean.” He rambles, playing with the strings of his tracksuit bottoms nervously.

Trying your very best to put the pieces together, you tilt your head and ask, “You don’t think your parents love you?”

“I mean, yeah,” he panics, “I’m sure they do, but they’re not like your parents, for example.”

“My parents?” Well, now you’re really lost.

Jungwon sighs, averting his gaze from you to the bike. “You know, like my dad never taught me the things yours did. My parents never dropped me off to school like yours did. My mum doesn’t even know how to cook..” He mumbles, his voice slowly drifting off with each sentence. 

“Jungwon,” you furrow your brows, “Have you been..comparing your parents to mine all these years?” Now that you think about it, there have been many times where you would be talking to your parents, and from the corner of your eye you’d stop Jungwon staring. You’ve always brushed it off, not wanting to think about the boy any more than you needed to, but now you’re thinking that maybe you should have. It’s common knowledge that money doesn’t buy you happiness, and you and Yuna have always blamed Jungwon’s lavish lifestyle for his bitchiness. But loneliness? That’s something you’ve never associated with him. 

Jungwon lets out a groan, before picking up a screwdriver again. “No.” He mutters under his breath, before turning his back to you completely.

Not wanting to prod at the situation any further, you hesitantly get back to work, too.

It’s been three hours since the two of you started working on the bike. Out of fear that Jungwon had caught on to what you said about you being the culprit, you tried helping him fix the other parts of the motorcycle, too. (Albeit your lack of knowledge of how to do so.) The alleyway has been silent for hours, the only noises were your uncomfortable giggles, shaky breaths and your nails tapping against anything they could find. Jungwon didn’t ask about your slip up, so you are hoping to God that he has no doubt about you because that would just be a one way ticket to jail. 

You don’t even realise that it’s 8pm, dark, and absolutely freezing until you find yourself shivering and brushing up your hands against your bare arms. Jungwon probably hears your chattering teeth as he looks over and juts his chin out at you. “You cold?” He asks, expressionless.

You nod immediately, standing up to stretch your legs and shake them to circulate some warmth around you. The only light the two of you have is the spotlight above you and it’s wearing out a little, making it difficult to see. “Just a little.”

Jungwon eyes your outfit, “You should have brought a coat,” he mutters, before doing the absolute unexpected.

Slack-jawed, you watch Jungwon unzip his puffer coat and hand it to you like it was normal for him to do so. With furrowed brows, you stand still, trying to find the catch behind his actions. “What?” He grumbles. “You’d rather freeze?”

Crossing your arms, you laugh at him. Seeing your breath fog up in the air, you start to reconsider declining his offer. “The last time you offered me a coat, Jungwon, it was from a dumpster. Everyone laughed at me because I had no idea and I wore it the entire PE session.” You explained, hoping he’d catch on to your lack of trust in him.

“Well, this isn’t from a dumpster, so just take it.” His arm is still extended, but you can’t bring yourself to take it from him.

“Just because I’ve come over to help you a few times,” you glare at him, “it doesn’t mean we’re friends now. This isn’t enough for me to forget everything you’ve done to me, Jungwon.” Saying this out loud to him for the first time feels weird. Neither of you have ever confronted each other about your situation. It’s always been avoided. 

Jungwon pulls his arm back towards him, before taking a few steps towards you. ���I never said we’re friends, just take the fucking coat.” He curses aggressively, making you flinch a little.

But the two of you are fully aware that you won’t back down from anything without a fight. “I don’t want your coat, Jungwon. It’s bad enough that I’m here, fixing something that you have enough money to do yourself. I don’t need your stupid pity either.”

Chuckling in disbelief, Jungwon rolls his eyes and shoves the coat into your arms. “Again, all I asked was for you to fix the tire. You chose to stay longer. I told you last time that you’re more than welcome to leave if you don’t wanna be here!” He yells at you.

Jungwon has never shouted at you before. It’s always been snarky comments and childish insults. This is new, and you’re not really sure how to react to it.

“Fine! I will leave! I can’t believe I fucking rolled that kimbap for you myself because I was scared you hadn’t eaten anything.” You shout back, throwing his coat on the floor before storming to his gate. “You’re never going to change, are you?” You mumble, while trying to open his gate. 

Suddenly, you feel Jungwon’s hand belligerently pull your shoulder back so you can face him as his fingers tightly grip around your upper arm. His face is merely inches away from yours, eyes piercing right through you like a new found anger has lit inside of him. “I’ve not changed? I literally just offered you my coat.”

“Oh, wow, you’re such a saint, Jungwon.” You seethe, despite the fear running through your blood at the intensity of his glare. “What about me? Huh? I helped you fix half of your bike, I put up with the shitty chemistry club stunt you pulled on me, I helped make your food-”

“And I am trying my best to return the favour!” He snaps again, letting go of your arm.

It’s not until then that you notice a delivery driver parked right outside of Jungwon’s house. Looking over at him, you notice the bags of food in his hands as he awkwardly smiles at the two of you. Your gaze shifts between Jungwon and the driver a few times. “You ordered this?” You ask, pointing at the man who's given up smiling and is now impatiently waiting for you both to collect your food. “For us?”

“I don't like burgers.” He spits, picking up his coat off the ground to pull out his wallet.

While Jungwon is apologising and paying the delivery driver, you stare at your feet in regret. That was way too stubborn of you. Jungwon really was just trying to be helpful by giving you his coat, but you were too prideful to take it. You thought you were better than this, you thought you were better than him. Maybe this issue has always been a two-sided conflict and you've just been too angry to see otherwise.

“Here,” he hands you the bag, and this time you take it reluctantly. 

Pulling out the box to open it, you're met with a fresh little burger meal. It's not much. Hell, it's nothing at all since you're sure Jungwon can afford way more than this cheap rubbish. But it still warps a guilt around your body so twisted you feel too sick to eat the meal. 

A gasp falls from your lips as soon as it hits you; as soon as the realisation of why the bike Jungwon adores so much hits you. He’s connected to it emotionally. It’s the only form of love he’s ever gotten. And you broke it. You can’t believe you broke something so precious to someone. The silence is thick. You can't bring yourself to look at him. There's only one thing running through your mind right now.

He deserves to know what you did.

Your chest feels heavy as Jungwon goes back to sitting on the ground and working on his bike. Agitation punches at your heart while its beats echoes around your head.

He needs to know what you did.

Biting your nails, you turn around to face him. He's been working so hard for days, and it's all because of you. You went too far, and he's paying the consequences—when it should be you. Clearing your throat, you waste no time telling him. 

“I did it.”

Jungwon's hands stop moving, but his gaze remains on the motorcycle.  

“I broke your..I broke your motorbike.” You say hurriedly before nibbling on your bottom lip. He still doesn't move. “It wasn't just me, but I did pretty much most of it.” 

You wait for him to lash out and scream at you, to call the police and have you locked away for life. You wait for him to cry, or yell, or insult you. Anything. But instead he does nothing.

He just quietly says. “Get out.”

“Jungwon, I'm so sorry, I wanted to tell–”

“I said get out.” His voice is low and empty.

“I–”

He cuts you off by darting his head towards your direction and glowering at you. So you decide to leave.

-

Dear diary,

I messed up. Big time.

With not enough energy in your system to write anymore in your diary due to the hours of homework you’ve just spent, you pull out your phone instead. Opening Instagram, you decide to aimlessly scroll through your friends’ stories.

First up is Ryujin—dolled up and singing into the camera with a few other girls you mildly recognise. There must be a party, you think. Swiping, you see a picture of Yeji and her boyfriend with red paper cups in their hands, smiling really cheesily. You chuckle at the photo, swiping up and replying to her story with “couple goals fr”. The next video on Yeji’s story, however, forces you to sit up in your chair.

While it seems like a normal video of a normal high school party with Yeji and Jisu dancing away and screaming to the music, your eyes can’t help but wander to the person dancing by themself in the background.

Yang Jungwon. And he’s alone.

This throws you off completely, because from the few parties you’ve visited and from what you’ve seen on people’s stories, Jungwon’s always been one of the lives of the party. He’s always in his huge group of school friends, dancing in the middle of the room, screaming into the microphones, spraying people with water guns. Jungwon was in fact one of the reasons you don’t go to parties often, because you can’t escape his loud personality. So seeing him in the corner, alone, with a bland expression on his face, you feel your heart sink.

And for some reason, you find yourself throwing on an outfit, fixing your hair, putting on some makeup and rushing out the doors.

“Hey!” Yeji approaches you, squeezing your side. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, we would have got my man to pick you up!” She screams over the music, looking at you excitedly. 

Before you can answer her, Yeji’s dragging you further into the house. “It’s been so long since you’ve come to a party, Y/N!” She cheers, putting down her drink to hold onto your other hand and start dancing with you. Smiling awkwardly, you dance along a little, but your eyes keep batting around the room, searching for that one familiar face. Yeji leans forward to yell into your ear, “Is something wrong?!” 

You wince at the volume of her voice, flinching away in fear that she’ll damage your eardrum if she shouts any louder. “I’m fine! Have you seen-?!”

“Sunghoon?!” Yeji asks, both of your bodies still swaying along to the music. “Chaeryoung told us you broke it off with him! That’s why she’s over there with him now!” She points over to the kitchen where the two of them are. You watch as Chaeryoung giggles at whatever Sunghoon is saying, leaning into his taller frame and shyly touching his forearm. 

Well, that was quick of him to move on. 

Yeji holds onto both of your arms before looking into your eyes endearingly, “Do you still like him?! You know, we really need to talk about stuff like this more!” She explains as you squint your eyes, the LED flashing lights and blaring music making it difficult to focus on what she’s saying. “I miss our girly talks where we’d all talk about boys, and-!”

“Y/N!” Yuna appears from your left, immediately hugging you as she does. “You should have told me you were coming, we could have got Yeji’s boyfriend to pick you up!”

You and Yeji giggle at Yuna repeating the same phrase—realising that your whole friend group practically rely on Yeji’s boyfriend for travel. “It’s fine, I just came here for-!”

“Sunghoon?!” She asks, giving you an empathetic look. “He’s with Chaeryoung!” 

Now why does everyone assume you’re here for Sunghoon?

“No, I’m here for Jungwon!”

“What?!” Both your friends yell in unison, animating their confusion with their furrowed brows and cringed noses. 

“Jungwon!” 

Yuna eyes Yeji a little worriedly before she bends down to speak in your ear. “You’re not going to confess, are you?” Unfortunately, you haven’t given your best friend the news of what happened between you and your so-called-enemy, so you chuckle awkwardly when she asks. “Because my parents will kill me if they find out, Y/N.”

You shake your head and offer her a fake smile, “No, don’t worry, I just need to speak to him.”

Reluctantly, she lets you go and you search the house for Jungwon. But instead, you’re met with another distraction. Perfect.

You don’t even need to turn around to know that a certain black-haired tall boy is standing behind you as you recognise the feeling of his chest almost pressed against your back. Sighing aggravatingly, you turn around to meet him. “Hey.”

Sunghoon takes a few seconds to respond, his eyes roaming your face and outfit longingly. “It’s been awhile!” He shouts, giggling at the awkwardness of having to speak over the music before stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. “You look really nice!”

“What?!”

“I said, you look really nice!” He repeats, this time a beautiful smile washing over his strong features. He grins at you, smiling so wide you get a perfect view of his teeth and tiny eyes.

“Thank you! So do you!” You laugh, but your smile turns sour once you remember your last conversation with him and the reason why you’re here. 

Swiftly, Sunghoon pulls you by your waist, taking you by surprise. Keeping your attention on him distracted you from the shift in music from EDM to a much slower song, so when Sunghoon tugs you to dance with him, you’re panicking. His fingers hold you softly, barely touching you at all, and when you look up into his eyes, they’re already staring back down at you. He’s perfect; practically everything anyone wants in a partner. So why is Jungwon still the only person on your mind right now?

The room is a lot quieter now, so the two of you don’t need to scream in each other’s faces anymore. Thank God for that. 

“Who did you dress up for, pretty?” Your cheeks can’t help but flare up at the pet name, and you have to purse your lips from smiling like a child. “It definitely wasn’t for me, was it?” There’s a sad smile to his lips, causing you to break the heavy eye contact.

“I just didn’t want to stick out, that’s all. It’d be weird if I came in normal clothes.” Mumbling, you notice the way Sunghoon lets go of your waist with one hand, only to interlock it with yours. 

“So if you didn’t come here to party, why’d you come?” He asks, and all of a sudden the spinning is starting to make you a little dizzy.

You gaze up at him with round eyes, knowing full well that he’s aware of why you came here. You hate the fact that he’s forcing you to say it out loud—to come to terms with your emotions that you absolutely despise right now. Your life could be so much easier if you really did have feelings for Sunghoon (despite the fact that Chaeryoung likes him too, maybe that would have been a bit messy) because showing up to a loud, rowdy place like this for a boy who absolutely hates your guts is just too complicated for your heart to handle.

Liking Sunghoon would have been easier, and even though you’re dancing in his arms right now, you’re still choosing Jungwon.

“I need to tell him.”

“About the motorbike or about your feelings?” 

You gulp, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I already told him about the bike. So now I need to apologise.”

“He’s hurt you, Y/N, really bad. I don’t get why you picked him.” His face is stern, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth.

Slowly, you let go of Sunghoon’s hand, and take his other off your waist. Looking up at him, you offer him a heartfelt smile before resting your hands on his chest. You take in a deep breath before looking up at him directly and say, “Neither do I.”

And like the two of you are some characters ripped out of the pages of a novel, you break away from each other, time slowing down as you walk away from him. Seeing Chaeryoung latch onto him while you walk backwards puts you at ease a little, you hope he sees the charm in your friend, you really do. 

You’ve been searching for Jungwon for around ten minutes now, and you figure he’s left since you can’t go too far in a house, can you? You end up proving yourself wrong, however, when you walk into the upstairs balcony and spot him staring into the view. 

Quietly, you lean against the balcony beside him, keeping your eyes on him in case he makes an indication that he wants you to leave.

With his gaze locked onto the city, not even sparing you a glance, Jungwon sighs deeply. “What are you doing here?”

“I just needed some fresh air,” You lie, unable to muster up the courage to explain the real reason.

“Okay, well, I think you’ve breathed in enough and you can leave now.” He mutters through jarred teeth. He looks just as angry as the day you told him about the motorbike, the steam still whistling at the top of his head. His jaw is shut tight, making his jawline look sharp enough to stab you with, and his eyes are doing their own damage to the sky with how narrow he’s piercing them.

Turning to face him, you instinctively reach out your hand to hold his arm, “Jungwon, I’m sor-”

Of course he recoils his arm away and of course he gives you a disgusted look. It’s only natural—you kind of deserve this. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His tone flicks a switch inside of you unknowingly as you retort, “I was just apologising?”

“No, you don’t get to apologise,” He points at you with one hand, his other leaning against the balcony frame. His brows are lowered and his tongue is occasionally poking the inside of his cheek. “You broke my..you broke my bike.” His voice breaks, and you notice the way his bottom lip quivers. “My bike. Do you know…do you know how many memories me and my parents made in Thailand? My dad taught me how to ride it, and my mum sat at the back of it while I drove on the beach and..” He sniffles, bringing up his hand to wipe at his eyes before turning away from you. “And then out of all people you ended up helping me fix it. You’re messed up, that’s-that’s not normal.” He mutters, in between quick and raspy breaths.

Watching the scene unfold in front of you, your eyes begin to tear up, too. You made Jungwon cry again. That’s twice. That’s one more than he’s done. Just when you thought you brought the old Jungwon back you broke him again. Seeing his shoulders shudder as he cries quietly into his hands has you clutching onto your chest tightly in hopes you don’t break, too.

“I’m sorry..” You whisper.

“You don’t get to say that!” He repeats, shouting into his hands. 

“But, I mean it,” you say a little louder, wiping away the tears that managed to slip out to keep your voice as still as possible.

Hastily, Jungwon turns back around, “No, you don’t get to say that because..” The dark haired boy brings down his hands to reveal his face. You’ve never seen him like this; eyes soaked and his nose red and swollen. “Because it should be me. And that’s why I’m so mad.”

“It should be you? Apologising?” You ask, unconsciously inching towards him, unaware of how close your bodies are.

His eyes wander around your face for a little while before he sucks in a deep breath, “Yeah, whatever.” Sniffling, he turns his head back to the view of the city. “Obviously, you only did that because of me.”

“No, Jungwon, that was something personal to you. I-I went too far.”

Taking you by surprise, he groans into his hand loudly before looking back at you again. “You didn’t know that it was personal!” He yells, forcing you to jerk your head back a little with wide eyes. “You didn’t know that because we don’t know each other! We don’t-!” His chest heaves laboriously as his brown eyes bore deep into yours. “We’ve known each other for so long, longer than Heeseung or Jongseong or..Sunghoon.” He mumbles the last part, his lips forming into a pout. 

“Yet we don’t know anything about each other?” You finish off his sentence, making sure to keep eye contact this time, because now is the time to let it all out. Now is the time for the two of you to confront the stupid situation you’ve trapped yourselves in for years. “I know,” You whisper, before pursing your lips, trying not to spill out every thought running through your mind right now.

You spot the way the shape of Jungwon’s eyes change from slitting to more rounded. They’re large and round at the front but pull out at the sides, similar to those of a cat. For some reason, his eyes are comforting. 

“Yeah..” He lets out a shaky breath. “All I know is that you’re this girl that lives across the street that has the most perfect life.”

You scoff, “Well, if you call bad grades and single-”

“You have parents that hug you every morning when you leave the house for school. You have friends that will stick by you even when you ask them to do something as stupid as break your neighbour’s bike.” You both chuckle at that bit. “You’re just.. I’ve always wanted to have that. Sometimes I think of what it would be like if I switched places with you.”

Naturally, you respond with, “Well, if you had to deal with a certain someone that makes you hate leaving your house everyday, I don’t think you’d want to be me.” You laugh at your joke, before noticing the way Jungwon’s face drops. Shit—he’s the certain someone. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like-”

“No you did. That’s why you broke my bike.” He says firmly, and the urge to look away pushes through and you turn your head away from him. 

You should know by now to always expect the unexpected when it comes from Jungwon. Because the next thing you hear is a muffled snort followed by a soft laughter. Looking back at him, you’re perplexed. Was this a joke? Was this all just another prank? Does he really have no feelings? Are the police waiting at the bottom of the house to lock you away for years? 

Jungwon breaks into an even louder laughter when he sees your expression, resting his elbows on the balcony rail and burying his head into his hands to try and quieten himself down. “I’m sorry,” he giggles, shaking his head, “It’s just.. I was such an asshole to you. My bike getting broken was just karma if you think about it.”

“Are you saying you deserve it?” You ask doubtfully, scared you’re dipping into hot water.

“It feels like it. I couldn’t stop thinking about how shocked you were when I was being nice for once. Like, I was really that bad, huh?”

You join in on his laughter, “We shouldn’t be laughing about this.” You say, before taking another look at Jungwon and bursting into another fit of giggles with him at the same time.

This is weird. Your arms are bumping against each other, you’re laughing so much your cheeks and throat are sore, and you can’t stop gazing into Jungwon’s eyes as you both smile with each other. You know. You’ve known since Sunghoon told you that you think about Jungwon way more than you should. You’ve known since the first time your legs touched each other accidentally that day you were fixing his bike. You’ve known since the time you watched him happily munch away on your mum’s kimbap. 

You know exactly why your heart is racing right now. Racing for the idiot you’ve been hating since you were eleven years old. Racing for your so-called-enemy of six years. Racing for the guy that just laughed about how badly he’s treated you. You’re so dumb, catching feelings for someone like Jungwon. Your cheeks should not be burning right now. He’s just Jungwon, you try to remind yourself.

Buried deep in your thoughts, you didn’t even realise the two of you have stopped laughing. It’s only now that you notice Jungwon’s eyes flickering between yours and your lips, and that he’s steadily leaning towards you. If your heart was racing before, it’s sprinting down a freaking marathon now. You stay still, waiting to see (or feel) whatever happens next. You’re too scared to initiate anything in case you freak the boy out and he backs away. Because what reason would he have to lean in right now? What reason would he have to like you back?

What reason would Yang Jungwon have to kiss you?

All of your questions fly out of the window as soon as his lips latch onto yours softly. Letting out a little gasp, although you were already expecting this, your hand flies to the balcony rail immediately. This is your first kiss. You always expected it to be more romantic; on a date with a guy in the park, or under a sakura tree at school. You never thought you’d kiss someone a few minutes after watching them cry their eyes out.

His lips are soft, though, so you close your eyes to feel them more. A hand reaches the back of your head as he tilts his head, a shaky breath blowing into yours. You can’t help but smile into the kiss, giggling at how inexperienced you both are. You both pull away, and you’re a little disappointed at the lack of..well..kissing there was. You’re pretty sure your lips are actually supposed to move in a kiss. So, pulling on every string of courage you have, you place your hands on either side of his shoulders and pull Jungwon in for a second round. This time, you tilt your head and open your lips a little, your stomach filling with butterflies when Jungwon lets out a sigh of relief against you. His movements are gentle, and the tenderness of his small lips opening and closing within yours causes your head to spin a little. He’s a little too good at this, his thumbs rubbing circles on either side of your waist making you feel all mushy inside. 

You hate him. You hate how good he is at kissing even though it’s his first time.

Pulling away, you can’t help but cover your face. Jungwon giggles at you quietly, making your body heat up even more. You feel his hands clasp around your wrists as he pulls them away from your face, shoving his right in yours. You’ve never seen this expression on his face before. His cheeks are bright red and puffed out, his lips are a little puffy and his eyes are rounder than you’ve ever seen them before. A genuine, really pretty smile sits on his lips as he speaks up again.

“We cannot tell anyone about this.”

“Agreed.”

-

A/N | and that's a wrap! i'm ngl i dont really understand the hype for this fic i wish i did things a lot differently ahahah,, but u guys really enjoyed it and that's all that matters!

[s-9in]

if you saw me on my main blog, ehe yes. i’ll officially make this as a full-time reading mode despite completely vanished from the existence of my main but we cannot let this acc in dusty so >:)

[s-9in]

oh my lord, i’m finally able to read this and i am smiling as hard too!! yes it’s zu :) i never expect for a quick response towards my very long review but i am honoured. honestly having to write/talk about fanfics never bother me (especially since this fic was a very good experience and actually affected me for a new genre i’ve been explored to), so no worries! :D i’d love to do more upcoming rants for your other stories!

the whole idea from the beginning for the purpose of this story is very much incredibly arranged, despite i tend to give myself a read for any genre (horror in general), i think psychological horror was very new to me but there is no single odd moment during the reads which was more than great! and of course to no surprise, considering the variations of cinderella; it was a very great choice to put multiverses for one of the key that played the biggest role in this, which never fails to amaze me in any kind of way. your mind? let me have that PLEASE. also, i never been exposed to color in fonts for a specific reason, but now i get why you often used it for this one writings and again was a brilliant idea to come up with! i very much appreciate your explanation and the little details i might missed from my point of view, and having all the clues puzzled together, i have better ways to blend and see this story with the newest information now lol

thank you for spending the time to reply and give few missing points i needed badly or else i might let myself drown in feelings and go for another second reading to maybe change how i pictured the overalls. but this is the best way to end that for now >.<

you know you’ll always get that audience now, because it attracted me hehe i completely agree that longer fics seem to have less appreciation but having the determination and plenty of arts it’s not the biggest concern for a target audience, people will someday find this and feel exactly the same way i did because you’re so? talented? should i even describe that?

i also never expect a follow from you, i am pressured now LOL i’m hoping to have my own story and have you rant and review to it! definitely is very pressured again, but also very excited:) and no your longer reply is everything i’ve been asking for, no worries :DD

cast: beomgyu ✗ fem.reader (ft. billlie’s haram and stayc’s sieun)

synopsis: a girl, a folktale, a boy, and a shifting reality

genre: psychological horror, folktale retelling, thriller, slow burn, drama, historical au, nobility au, regency au, medieval au, rich kid au, fantasy au, angst, fluff, a bit comedic in some parts

based on: folk tale cinderella with inspirations from video game omori (2020) and movie everything everywhere all at once (2022)

word count: 18748 (18.7k)

warning(s): unreality! (be very careful!!), child negligence, anxiety-inducing, mental breakdown, discrimination, suffocation (warning for claustrophobics !) implicit violence (no detail), a bit of suicidal tendency, a tiny bit suggestive, will be very meta in some parts, fast pace flow that might give you whiplash, unique stylistic choices (ever-changing typeface fonts and colors), slow first act that i shred into pieces as fast as lightning :] (if i forgot some, let me know!)

message from the moon: remember that this story is fiction also do be careful and read the warnings at the top + (y/f/n) = your full name. i swear i didn’t intend for this one-shot to be this long but i guess it is necessary since i wanna pull out the rug under y’all :D this one-shot is a part of the happily never after collab hosted by @soobisms and @svhnflwr so do check the other works too!! thank you so much for letting me participate in this spooky collab !!

an atmospheric playlist!!

a small local cinema stood in between a hardware store and a pet shop. signs hanging outside with lights fluttering in and out of liveliness because of broken wires beneath them.

from the outside of the glass doors, you’re visible. leaning against a counter you stood behind, an open book of pride and prejudice by jane austen in your hand rested on top of it. you wore a white shirt tucked behind a dark blue apron. the smell of popcorn cooking in the popcorn machine behind you fills the room. the theatre's door was open, but no one came in or out. no other person besides you in the small building. a small family business your father made before passing away, leaving you with your stepmother and stepsisters who don’t understand your father’s aim in creating an independent cinema. always striving to look the best while running the family’s savings out and making your household more and more in debt because of their credit cards and their low credit scores.

your father was a filmmaker, an indie filmmaker who hasn’t reached his stardom when the grim ripper took him away too young. well, it took both of your parents too young.

you were born into a family of people thinking outside of the box, your parents both practice art in their different ways, your father is the art of the visual while your mother is the art of the numbers which includes being the financing hold of the cinema you stood in today. they met during their college years and their love of stories persists to you. you always thought it’s hereditary, your love of stories, cause nurture isn’t enough to produce such love. that love holds onto you as you remembered reading to your mother your first ever story you made for a story competition for school at her deathbed when you were 8 years old. how she was always the one that tells you a story before sleeping. but because of the condition, you’ve grown up to replace her role while she becomes yours. you go back to your room in the empty house and you leave her to sleep. father is still at the cinema serving his collection of indie and old films that night, not being by her side on their shared bed. she didn’t wake up in the morning.

you’re a tough girl who has the resilience of your mother, ready to grow up without one. but your father disagrees and marries his then-middle school lover who has two daughters older than you but around the same age. he still took the cinema job seriously, and still has employees working under him while he travels away to film festivals or shoots at exotic places as his job as a filmmaker. the days when he’s gone, your stepmother and stepsisters treat you in whatever they want to treat you.

one day, father traveled to a mountainous place with waterfalls and valleys around it near the end of your middle school era. father brushes the skin below your eyes before he goes, reminiscing about how the love of his life also has dark circles resembling yours because of working too hard. he promised to bring back home footage of them and the unedited movie to you. but, he didn’t come back. all the cast and crew of the movie, along with the passengers on the airplane, got swept by the wave in the ocean, never to be found.

the will come out and all of them settled that as your stepmother is his wife, she will inherit the house and his savings. but what the lawyer gave tween you was a certificate of the cinema your biological parents built, your name written on it as the inheritor. you felt sorry that you have to let the employees know your father passed away and have to let them go for financial reasons, but the staff treats you with kindness, and almost familial love as if you are their own younger sibling who also loves cinema and untold stories as they do. your stepmother and stepsisters cannot touch nor change the cinema because they have to come to you first. you won’t let it go as it’s the only piece of your parents’ legacy in the world other than yourself.

other than taking care of a small local cinema in a one-man show, your love of stories got you to study literature. books and other forms of media are escapism for you and your parents. they showed you spielberg‘s movies like e.t. since young to grow your imagination of having an extraterrestrial friend or the sound of music when you first see julie andrews on the screen, singing in the meadow. your parents give you children’s books since you were young and you remember by the time you’re in high school, home life was a nightmare that the school library becomes your second home, going home late after class to have more time to escape rather than facing the reality of your stepmother and young adult stepsisters—not like they care you were home or not. you use the money you got from the percentage of inheritance from your father and use it to pay for your early years’ tuition for university studying literature. and you continue your parents’ dream of introducing cinema to people, sharing stories more down-to-earth than those blockbusters in the other theaters.

holding your classic novel close to your chest, you sit in your class today in your oversized, dull-looking outfit. other students around you panic as they pull out their book review from a task given by your lecturer last week while you already gave yours two days ago. you lean back in your seat as the lecturer lectures about this week’s topic, folk tales.

“we know folk tale as a story so simple that it is interpreted as fairytales for children. however, folk tale is more than that.” the lecturer speaks at the front, and the lights from the projector above them shine down on the screen behind them who is walking whilst talking.

“folk tale is a tale of folklore. folklore is an explicit way to show one’s culture and share it with other people. think of it as the greek tragedies we have learned about before, where they teach us about aspects of life and nature through the challenges faced by gods and men. folklore is like that but purely made by humans to show one’s expression and one’s belief. it is shown through proverbs, legends, and what we are learning today: folk tales.”

you’ve known folk tales before from the children’s books you’ve read that might be too harsh to tell children. maybe because you read the brothers grimm version, but you understand they make it scarier as a cautionary tale for the kids in their time since danger and risks are everywhere than today where technology can help prevent them. so when your lecturer told the class to pick one folktale to make a review of, your mind goes blank.

yet, deep down, you felt a certain story you want to choose. you have to write them down for the lecturer before anyone does.

you fast-walk to the lecturer who sits at the desk in front, a paper with written names of your classmates and the tale they picked beside it. you skim down the list, letting out a sigh of relief before you wrote the name of the folk tale.

cinderella.

closing the front doors of the small cinema, you meet the night sky of the town. you walk towards the bus stop, skyscrapers shining a few blocks down. your parents didn’t predict this but the cinema now rests near the area of wealthy people, where conglomerate lives and works at. the capitalist nature of them stranded the local business that is made by passionate people, in favor of something they are used to that costs much more than what you have. your eyes glance towards the passing apartment building you know children of conglomerates live to separate from their parents since it’s near the university you go to, while the bus you are in goes past it and towards the outskirts where the middle-low income lives.

after you put down your shoes outside the front door, you step inside your well-looking house with expensive pieces of furniture and the newest, trending tech devices. well, you went past it to climb to the second floor and to the end of the hallway where a doorknob exists if you look closely enough. the door's color camouflages with the surrounding wall. a creak coming from the door being open, you climb up and arrive at the rooftop of the house, a little nook in the attic for a hermit like you.

you set down your bag as you grab your sleeping clothes before going back down to the bathroom at the back of the house which you’re allowed to use to clean and freshen yourself, hoping none of your sisters nor your mother wakes up right now. the cold water creates chills on your skin as it’s nearly an hour until midnight when you went home, you moved past the dirty kitchen with dirty dishes beside the sink, knowing the other people living in this house know you and your willingness to clean their mess—because you learned the hard way when you said no, the distinct sting forming on your cheek.

climbing back up to your attic, you open the laptop you own since the start of high school. you search for cinderella on wikipedia when you scroll to see different versions of them that existed in this world. from french to brothers grimm, to rodgers and hammerstein and disney. as you read the descriptions of them, they all told the same story.

specks of dust cover the corners of the attic as the candle you lit up flatters from the melting wax, the wick cannot hold more before you blow the flame away, a bit of the dust flung from your gush. the moon staring at you from outside of the window as you rest on the mattress on the floor, your eyes droop as your mind can only think one thing.

a girl with an awful family goes to a ball and meets a man. she left something behind so he could find her. all of them end the same, no matter light or dark, to earn a happily ever after.

-

something pecks the skin of your arm.

humming a low note, your eyelids open to a silhouette in front of you. a small creature right beside you.

you heard the chirping become more prominent as the silhouette fills up with color.

a blue bird tilts its head as it looks at you.

“oh, good morning,” you mumble before hearing more chirps around. that’s when you sit up on your bed and look to see the small critters you considered your friends.

“good morning to all of you.” the small critters climb up to your sheets and give a small hug to your covered calves, the birds leaning their feathered head to you while the rats’ small limbs give a ticklish sense that wakes you up. you view outside your small tower to find the sun has risen above the horizon before the muted sound of a bell ringing echoes down the stairs.

your body reacts as you prepare yourself for the day, telling the critters to help you in putting the ingredients for today’s breakfast in the kitchen. in contrast, you prepare yourself, changing from a sleeping gown to one of the abundance of white dresses you own for the outfits you wear every day. feet step down from the small tower that is your room and an inventory for your household, you meet the refreshing breeze and green scenery of the backyard of your estate. quickly, you grab the white apron of yours and start cooking for breakfast. your friends help you grab the ingredients while you cut them up, putting them all together as you make breakfast for the sweet tastebuds.

as you put the unfinished cake onto the large oven area of the kitchen, you flap the fire using a fan to increase its burn. but ashes come and stain your white outfit, though you are used to it by now. the grey of ash and dust with the smell of smoke is a thing that you and the people in the house associated with yourself. after finishing adjusting the fire, you pour the hot water into the teapot on the tray at the top of the wooden table along with the ceramic cups. your friends scrambling around the kitchen to help you put cutleries on the tray before the bell is ringing again, now clearer as it hangs beside the exit of the kitchen.

you lift the tray with both hands, mumbling a small “thank you” to the critters as you walk to the dining table from the dirty kitchen. you go through the house's hallways as carefully as you can and arrive at the dining table to see your stepmother on the edge of the dining table, looking imposingly at you coming.

“what took you so long?” her elegant voice calls to you as you set the three cups on her side and two sides beside her, pouring each of them their tea leaves and hot water.

“i’m making a chiffon cake for breakfast, mother.” your small voice sounded as you look to see the two empty seats beside her. it’s not weird for them to wake up later in the morning. so you spoke, “do you want me to wake them?”

“no, focus on breakfast.” mother said before sniffing the surrounding air, looking down at your grey-colored clothing because of the ash.

“oh ashfool. go back to the kitchen…” after giving a small nod, you return to your cooking. pulling out from the oven and putting the delicious chiffon cake that is your late mother’s recipe onto the large plate, fresh fruits and jams all around it with small plates to serve the delicacy. the rats that help you wash their hands with the drops of water from the tap before you return to the dining room to see that your stepsisters have woken up and sipped their tea.

“thank you, (y/n).” the younger of the sisters said in a nasally way as you put the contents on the tray to the dining table. meanwhile, the older gives a smug smile before you give a small nod and walk to the corner of the room where a chair sits. your designated chair.

your gaze moves from the women at the table to the interior of your childhood home. from the memories of your mind, you can remember being in that exact spot with your own father and mother: the earl and countess of the house and the land surrounding it. then, mother fell into an illness and passed away. father then remarries, making the house of the earl and his daughter into a home of an earl, a countess with two titles that she got from her deceased husband who is also an earl, and three ladies from two separate lineages, with you being the youngest. father died on his way home outside of the town known for the roses. he promised you a bouquet of it when he returns home, but he never did because his aide comes to your home and tells you the devastating news.

it is almost an instinct that when your father died, the other women start to ridicule you and not include you in affairs. even if your father remarry, he still had a soft spot towards you rather than his wife and stepdaughters—maybe because you are his blood and bone. you are also a lady in this home—the only lady of your house who is still alive, but they pushed your status down the river and make you the caretaker of the house instead, while they take advantage of the lands your family owns from your great-great-grandfather that are handed down by hereditary.

as you eat the leftover meal from yesterday’s dinner, you overhead the women at the table speaking about the upcoming debutante ball that is happening in a few days for the social season this year. many names of other gentlemen are mentioned, but not many do you recognize. the ones that you don’t. you heard your name being called by your older sister as you stood and walk towards them, seeing the leftover cake which earns you a small smile to know you can at least taste your cooking.

you tidy the cutleries up onto the tray when you picked up, “what about (y/n)?” as it comes out from the younger of the sisters. you always realized that although all of them behave cruelly towards you, she is much tamer than the other two. probably because she is calmer and a few years older than you, she sometimes considers you in their conversations.

“she’s also a lady. isn’t the more debutantes we have, the more chances we can get for a wealthy, high-status husband?” you paused your movement before turning around. you’ve always heard about the debutante ball and the social season, carriages of high-status people walking in and out from the path in your land to arrive at the balls that are organized for this season. your parents used to take you in those balls back when you were a child, remember the men and women older than you debut themselves so they can find suitors, getting you to meet the other children of earls, marquees, and dukes that you’ve now forgotten because of the isolation.

“no, she can’t join us.” mother speak in a stern voice. “i don’t want to take care of her card when i already have the two of you. besides, she is the caretaker of our home. you do know your position, right ashfool?” your head lifted as she talks to you. all the suppression you had for you to retaliate is rushing down your blood, but you perceive it as an unladylike feature.

“i do, mother.” you gulped down your saliva. feeling the tension released but sadness overcome your emotion as you missed the festivity you had as a child. bringing back to live your life as a hermit that you think even the people outside of this house don’t know that you exist. the name, maybe, but not your being.

“ooh, i want to request a rotisserie chicken for dinner tonight.” the older of the sisters said before you return to clean off the dust that accumulates in the house this morning after cleaning the plates. you give a small nod and left the women themselves. at once after turning the corner, you listen to their snickers as they talked about you and your dirty, ash-covered clothing, how you won’t be a debutante, and if you do, no one will ever recognize or approach you.

later in the afternoon, you pick up a basket by the door of the kitchen as you go to the front gate of your home to go to the marketplace in the middle of the town. you found out there is no chicken meat left at home and that you have to buy in the market far from where you are. closing the gate, you walk on the path and examine the large land of yours and your ancestor’s estate as you go past.

you remember hearing your father say to your mother how with land that size, they could teach you whatever they want. they always wanted to teach you how to ride a horse so it’s easier for you to travel than hire a carriage service. but, after your mother passed and stepmother replace her, she forbids the house to have a stable for horses as she doesn’t want her children to do such unladylike behavior. it was the only decision that she has included you in her consideration. other than that, she ignores you and belittles you behind your father’s back. instead, you took care of stray animals that are there ever since she passed. your actions of giving them food and not bothering them earn your little friends, as you liked to call them. you’ve always been able to understand animals and they seem to understand you too.

birds whose chirping you recognize follow behind you as you stride down the empty path for horses and carriages. you could sense the breeze blowing between the trees as you can get a small glimpse of a rooftop of a large building on the edge of the horizon. the royal family’s castle near the center of the town. you pass a few houses of other marquees, earls, and dukes that are scattered on the road when rustling came from the trees beside you. ears piqued as you turn your head to the side.

“easy…” you heard a low voice fading closer as the leaves and bushes shakes. body retreating towards the other edge of the road…

“AHH!”

gravity pulls you back as you discover the neighs of a horse that just burst out of the forest onto the dirt track. its front hooves rise before the horse falls on its legs erect, standing in front of you. you watch the rope being pulled from the side of the mane as a view of a figure sitting on the saddle, making the horse face the way you are going. a hand reaches for the mane, caressing it while they calm them down in almost a whisper with indistinct words.

you look up to see a man around your age in the brightest white shirt you’ve seen. the breeze blows as you try to get up, which makes his hair floats also. your grunts make his head incline towards you.

“oh!” he exclaimed. his short brown hair covered his forehead as you successfully stand up. from beneath the horse, you can see that a pair of legs landed before walking behind it. you view the man and your mind immediately thought about him being one of the sons of barons, earls, or dukes in this land. the finest man you have ever seen in a long time. even the aura of your father exudes from him, but more playful.

“are you alright?” the man said as you brushed your dress that has faded dirt stains on it.

“my apologies. rocky here got startled by a bird flying in front then he went off course.” you give a nod before looking at the horse who is staring at you, sadness in its eyes. you walk to the front and gently open your palm that is not holding the basket in front of its nose, which it sniffles before its ears moved to the side, giving a soothing gesture as it relaxes.

“i forgive you,” you spoke to the horse and then looked at the man who lets out a small smile. feeling the awkwardness in the air as you took glances at each other.

“i should go.” you give a small nod and turn your body toward the road.

“wait.” you paused in taking your first step. “are you going to walk to the end of the road?” the man’s questions make you face him again. his eyes show an apologetic look.

“i‘m visiting the marketplace.” you nudged your empty basket forward.

“let me bring you there, miss…”

“(y/n). my name is (y/n).” your vision looks at the horse, who is flinging its tail around as it listens to both of you conversing. you’ve never interacted with a stranger before, but him just openly asking you to let him bring you to your destination was something almost fictional. you can’t believe someone as nice could exist. the legs that are holding you up are tensing from the amount of walking as the fatigue spreads and now reaches your brain to signal.

“i- don’t you have any other destination you want to go to?”

“not really. i was riding around on rocky to sightsee. trying to find some freedom.” the man said as you took a closer step toward him.

“and how should i trust you, mister?”

“beomgyu.” the man said his name as he breathed out, making his shoulders slump in relaxation. beomgyu.

“mister beomgyu.” you give a nice small smile as you see his eyes widen before wandering around the frame of the forest he is in with you, supposedly thinking of something.

“i’ve already hurt you and i supposed this could help me repay it.” beomgyu voiced as he nods his head, letting himself trust his words. you hummed before you stare up at the saddle on the horse.

“i can say that i’m not that hurting but I would love it,” you replied to his request before he beams a smile toward you before you step closer to the horse’s body. as you try to figure out how to climb the horse with the basket, you tilt your head in confusion. that is when you felt a pull from it and something touches your shoulder. turning your head to find beomgyu behind you.

“let me help,” he speaks as he puts your basket on the ground. he guides you where to put your feet on the saddle and hands before putting his hands near your waist in case you fall as you heave up on the horse. your dress lifts until above your knee before you smooth it down, holding onto the back of the horse as you perceive it move slightly beneath you. beomgyu gives you your basket then does the same as he climbs to sit in front of you, giving a small command to rocky as the horse walks down the path.

“i’ve never heard of you before.” the man talks as his head turns towards you while you move closer so you can talk and he could understand you.

“well, i supposed you don’t need to,” you replied. beomgyu lets out a chuckle.

“someone as beautiful as you must have to be the talk of the town.” your eyes widen as your face gets warm from the blood flowing, nudging his arm playfully as giggles erupt from him.

“thank you, uh, i guess.”

“your guess is right.” he looks forward to the road as more of the rooftop of the castle is more visible than before. the marketplace near it is now closer than ever.

“the social season is upon us.” beomgyu breaks the silence.

“ah, yes.”

“if i haven’t seen you it means that you haven’t had your debut yet?” the man tilts his head as you can sense rocky’s behind getting jumpier than you like it, making you lean closer to him with your hand on his side, the basket pressing to your body.

“well, i haven’t and i don’t think of going this year.”

“why not?”

you let out a small smile, “i supposed it’s not my right to be there. i’m,” you shook your head. “i’m a child of nobody.” yet, you are a child of somebody, but the demeaning comments made by the lady in the house make consider as not one of them. sadly, no one cannot be by your side to defend you either.

“but i want to meet you there.” you lock into eye contact with him as your hand lands on his waist after moving the basket to rest on top of your thigh. you let out a small chuckle.

“that would not be necessary. i assume you are a child with influential parents, by the looks of you being able to own a horse, have to be there?”

“well, you got me.” you and he let out a giggle as you can now find more roads branching out from the road you are on. “my mother wants me to find a wife. i always ask her to wait but now with the ball, she seems as if she can’t wait any longer.”

“i do hope you find the right person.”

“but i want to be with you. especially right now. i rather be here with you than at that fancy ball. it is…” you can see beomgyu’s smile, making you lean closer and view the side of his face clearly as he turns to look forward. “i’ve never felt so free.”

his words resonated with you. this is the first time that you ever felt this free, walking outside to enjoy the scenery with someone who is feeling what you are too right now. beomgyu is a stranger to you, but what you are having with him is something more.

something familiar.

-

“another two mugs of beer, please.”

“coming.”

you grabbed the drying clean wooden mugs on the table and walk to the barrel that sits sideways, twisting the tap as the beverage pours out in a dash as the liquid becomes foamy. you see your friend, haram, navigate the aisle between the customer to place down each food sieun, your other friend, is making in the kitchen. haram walks past you as she goes to pick up other plates of dishes made, she points towards the table where the people who ordered sits. you walk and let out a smile on your face as you put the mugs down in front of the two men who are eating roast meat, their waves of laughter combined with the others in the tavern.

“thank you, beautiful.” one of them said as they give you flirty eyes. you give a nod and go back to your station behind the counter as fast as you can. you still can’t believe how your mother can keep up such manners and emotion for a long time while doing her work. so elegant yet meticulous at the same time.

your parents always love to cook and they created a tavern together. a small quaint tavern in the middle of town where anyone can be here to get away from any work they’re doing in the day. you grow up assessing the bustling business from both your father’s kitchen and mother’s counters, that is until she passed away from a dangerous plague you’ve also caught. you knew you wanted to say by her side for the longest time as you isolate yourself with her when you both caught the illness, even if it means leaving the world together at such a young age. but someone somewhere made a change of plan for you as you live to survive, watching your father marry a neighbor of his who is a widow with two daughters around your age.

back in your home, your father always loves to make new recipes for the family if he receives new ingredients from his farmer friends. but, your stepmother always dislikes what he does. she doesn’t enjoy seeing a man in the kitchen as she always told him to pursue a more ‘masculine’ career like sieun’s father, who is a blacksmith. his love of food persist until he died because the kingdom drafted him into a war with the neighboring kingdom. because he passed prematurely, the only one who can work for the tavern is you. since after you finished your education that you don’t have any work to do or any suitor for you, you invited both of your friends to work with you at the tavern.

you taught haram how to serve customers, being the person who can help her release her stress and emotions toward you. then you taught sieun your father’s recipe as she wants to be the cook—you know she can do her part perfectly when she told you about being near sharp objects and heat. you take the role that was your mother’s and the manager of the tavern altogether, still in contact with your father’s friends as suppliers for the business. it is weird to hear a woman as a business owner, but because haram’s mother, a dressmaker, also owns a business, she helps you in managing all these things.

your stepmother doesn’t enjoy seeing you succeed independently. so with the power of her being married to your father before he passed, she demands you to give 1/3 cut of the profit every month that was supposed to help in your supplies and making the tavern better. you cannot deny her as much as you want to because if you are, words of disgust will spread around you that if you cannot respect your parent, you cannot respect your customer either. ironically, she and her daughters can’t respect you even though they live in your father’s home and not theirs. as a result of that, you let yourself live in a spare room of the tavern as you don’t want to be connected to them once again. you don't want them to treat you like a servant when you return to your own house.

as you dry the clean mugs, eyes on the open space full of people where someone is playing the lute, the entrance opens as a cloaked figure comes in. the cloak is raggy, almost trailing the wooden floor and even though they’re inside, they aren’t dropping their hood. people who wore something similar to this are most of the time travelers or maybe fugitives, but it doesn’t matter to you as you are here trying to survive. voices muffled and the tunnel vision you got on the cloaked figure makes you didn’t aware of something slamming in front of you. you twist your head to the sound to catch a man mumbling his words, trying to enamor you for free beer. all you can do is shake your head and say “no” while furrowing your eyebrows. as fast as the air travels, you see a glint of light slice the air while finally noticing that he’s wearing armor on his figure, pointing his shortsword at you. a knight.

both of your hands raised as you step back, slamming your bosom against the cabinet behind you as the knight’s voice penetrates the air and even the melody of the lute at the back. you look at haram’s shocked face as she walks to the knight.

“please, sire. we can finish this calml-"

“NO. THIS WOMAN HERE HAS” he hiccuped while pointing towards you. “has insulted me and-“

“stop!”

your head turns toward the source of the unknown voice. eyebrows raised to see the cloaked figure that enters the tavern right next to the knight. the knight in a face full of rage turns his body to face the figure before his face fell. “your h-“

“you are clearly too drunk to act. i suggest you go back to your quarters wherever it is.” the figure said wisely. because of it, the knife seem to sober up for a bit and retracted the shortsword back into its hilt on his body. he looks between you and the figure.

“m-my apologies.” the knight mumbles before scurrying away. haram’s gaze follows the knight before turning towards you, communicating through your eye contact as you give a small nod so she can continue doing her work. you then turn your head towards the cloaked figure as they let out a sigh.

“thank you.” you quickly gather yourself and pour one of the clean mugs a beer for the figure. you gently slide the filled-up mug to them as they looked down at it.

“it’s on us,” you tell them so they don’t have to pay. the figure’s shoulders slump before they sit down on the barstool.

“thank you,” they replied before pulling their hood off. a man with the upper part of his black hair tied to the back and the ragged robe he wears hides an expensive-looking outfit beneath it. a few seconds to study their face is enough for your eyebrows to rise.

you recognize that face. you’ve seen that face before.

“a traveler?” you asked, trying to subside your suspicions about the person because the face is too familiar to your liking.

“not exactly.”

“fair enough,” you replied as haram sends a message to prepare more mugs of beer as the lute continues to play now with the violin singing along.

“what brings you here, sire?” you put the mugs on the counter as haram picks them up and serves them to the tables.

“i’m scouting the town. everything felt new to me,” he said as he take a sip of the beer you served him.

“i thought you are not a traveler.”

“i-“ he paused as you turn your view somewhere else, hoping that could help him speak comfortably. “what i meant by ‘not exactly’ is that i live near the outskirts of town. i’ve never been in town before, especially at my age because i have so much to do.”

you nod your head, but your critical mind makes you think back on the clothes underneath the robe. “you must be a wealthy man then, sir. wearing such clothes beneath such a dirty robe.”

your comments earned a surprised look on his face as his mouth opens, trying to answer your questions. “i’m here visiting to attend the masquerade ball.”

the masquerade ball is the ball that the royal family has made in celebration of the prince’s birthday. though you recognize the king and queen, you never knew the prince as he is always so hidden or it is because his parents didn’t allow him to interact with peasants like you and your friends. the royals prepare this ball so that the prince can find himself a wife as he is around your age. a bachelor in need of a partner so they can rule this kingdom together. so it’s weird that even with such a close-off prince, the family still invited all the bachelorettes who don’t have a man to come so the prince can find the right suitor, all wearing masks so their inner self shines instead to make the prince interested. you didn’t plan on going but you sure know your stepmother and stepsisters do.

“understandable.” you give a small smile as you rub the rug you’re holding to clean up the liquids on the counter that are remaining.

“do you intent to go to the ball?” his question earns a short giggle from you as you shook your head.

“why should i go? i mean, look at me.” you open your arms so that he can study your dusty-colored dress underneath your brown apron because you always stayed by the ashes of the fire to see your father cook. even now as you and sieun talk about making new recipes in the kitchen. you aren’t called ashfool by your stepmother if it weren’t for it.

“someone like me could not be a suitor for a prince.”

“but aren’t you tired of the cycle you have to go to?” he presses on.

yes, you are tired. but it’s what you need to survive.

“the ball going on at night time is bad for me, especially if i leave the tavern to my friends. the tavern is always full at night.” you sigh before looking somewhere else than him. “it sure sounds fun.”

“and i enjoy your company here with me.” the man said as you face him as fast as you can. “we could talk more at the party if you come.”

you let out a chuckle as you turn to see haram raises a pointer finger towards you so you can grab a mug and fill it up from the barrel behind. though there are barstools where you are working, nobody seems to care enough to interact with you, and this man is the first one. so when you heard he enjoys your company with him, something flutters inside you.

“i’ll try my best. if i could find the right dress and mask since the ball is in a few days.” you give a warm smile as he replicates it on his own. “you sure have a promise you have to fulfill, sir…”

“it’s beomgyu. and i make sure i’ll fulfill that promise.”

-

the thick cable of your laptop charger rested beside it, plugged. having such an old model means the battery is so bad it is leaking and you don’t have enough disposable income to repair or even fix it. your task for the folk lore paper about cinderella is around a third done as you don’t have any other things to do while multitasking. you eat the leftover salty popcorn you made last time—even you can say it sickens you, though it’s your favorite snack to eat.

your sticky fingers make you rub them on the blue apron you’re wearing, seeing it being stained by the grease before it’s dry enough for you to write again in your document, finding the right words to write with the multiple tabs talking about cinderella opened on the browser. with a theater to yourself, you prepare to watch the cartoon disney’s cinderella near the end of your shift, closing it early as if anyone wants to come to visit, anyway.

you glance at the cd case of disney’s cinderella beside the laptop as your hand grabs another popcorn while you read back on what you are writing, knowing you have to proofread it again so the words don’t come out weird. that’s when you hear a grunt and footsteps as the traffic sounds enter the cinema with you in it for the first time. a figure walking before the glass door closes. a man with boyish manners who is around your age enters as he comes and approaches you. he has brownish with a red undertone colored haired and mullet that falls to his nape, wearing a blouse and leather pants that you figure out cost so much.

as the man comes closer, you can’t help but see his face.

wait.

didn’t you see him before?

the face is so familiar.

and you can only pair one name with this face.

“beomgyu?”

“of course, you know me.” he said in an exasperated way before standing in front of the counter, agitated. “okay. sorry. i, i need someplace to hide.” he replies before looking straight at you, eyes meeting with an intense stare.

“why-“

“i’ll tell you everything. any place to hide?” beomgyu looks behind to the glass doors before turning back.

“i- well- you can hide behind the counter underneath the cashier.” you point towards the counter beside you as you let beomgyu walk to your side and sit with his back against it. the counter is fully made of wood, unlike the display case you stood in front of with the lights off because what should you display when no one comes? well, beomgyu did. you looked down at beomgyu who is calming himself down before the sudden sound of traffic enters again as a large man enters the room and walks towards you imposingly.

“excuse me, miss. have you seen choi beomgyu?” the man asks.

your eyes widen before you unconsciously let out a pout. is he that important of a person that someone is trying to find him? is this man someone he knows? or is this man someone dangerous and is beomgyu’s opponent?

“i- no. i haven’t seen choi beomgyu and i don’t know who he is, actually.”

“i see. thanks.” he turns around to walk the entrance before pausing. you’re glad that you didn’t let your vision leave him.

“how much is a small serving of popcorn?” the man asked before turning around and walking back to the counter.

“you want popcorn?” you squint your eyes at him.

“i’ve been running after mr. choi. i also need a snack, alright?” the man—exasperated—says as you give a nod, glancing at beomgyu for a split second to catch him looking at you before turning around and preparing the serving for the popcorn. receiving the heat from the machine, you close the lid again and walk to put the popcorn on the counter as the man is opening his wallet. you glance down at beomgyu as you gesture with your hand in a dash so he can move to the side and stand in front of the cashier. as he scoots, he accidentally hit the wooden material.

“ack.”

“what was that?” the man lifts his head as he looked at you, who is already preparing a painful expression on your face.

“it’s me. accidentally hit the cabinet, hehe.”

the man gives you the money and grabs the popcorn, “hope you have a good business today.” he said before leaving.

“yeah, i hope you find him,” you said back as the glass door closes before you slump your hand on the counter. you heard the giggle from beomgyu’s corner as he stands up beside you. “it’s your fault.” you glare at him.

“i know, but i didn’t expect my bodyguard to just order popcorn.” he continues laughing as you rolled your eyes, back to your laptop to do your task. you sense another body getting closer to you as you glance at him, blinking your eyes.

“(y/n), huh?” you received his mumble as you see him look at the screen of your laptop on the first page where your name is written. you hummed as a reply.

“this is a cinema?” he asked as he looked around. you let another hum of agreement.

“local cinema. a family business.”

“any interesting movie you play? blockbusters like the mcu movies or just newly released ones?”

“not really.” you lift your shoulders as you reply. “the movies we have are the ones that released the latest a year prior. we have all kinds of blockbusters there and also old ones like star wars episode 4 and jaws.“

“isn’t it just watching it on tv?” you let out a chuckle at his question.

“do you watch movies on your tv anymore? or do you use your laptop to open a streaming service to view it?”

“heh, touché.” his answers make you laugh as you can’t focus on your writing. he joins in too. you felt the sense of familiarity when you are with him, a connection from beneath you slowly rising.

“if you’re asking, my dad is a filmmaker and film connoisseur. he made a local cinema so indie movies can air their movies here and we can show people more movies from the old ones to obscure ones here unlike the theaters you know. we made money but occasionally, specifically the room night when we played the room by tommy wiseau, and people just flocking in. but day-to-day business, yeah it is this empty.” you emphasized the last two words as beomgyu looked at you who are pouting your lips. his eyes move to the cd case beside your laptop.

“what’s that doing here?”

“something to check out for my uni paper. doing a task about the cinderella folktale.”

“ahh…” beomgyu paused, “when are you watching it?”

“later probably?”

“can we watch it now?” your creases folded.

“you wanna watch it now?”

“yeah. i could give another opinion to be added to your paper.”

maybe another voice of opinion can help make your paper better as only a one-sided opinion can’t highlight the richness of the story.

“sure.” you agree.

beomgyu’s eyes lighten up as he requested drinks for both of you and a bucket of popcorn, which he promised he will pay double the actual price. you roll your eyes before a smile shows on your face as you guide him to the open theater door of the cinema, letting him walk into the small hallway full of soundproof walls your dad made into the small cinema which only comprises ten columns that are in a slope and five rows to the side, walk away on both left and right. both of you picked the seats right in the middle. you moved back to the entrance of the lobby room and turned the ‘open‘ sign to ‘close‘ and locked the door as you don’t anyone coming into the cinema without your supervision.

foot stepping on the carpeted floor as you go to the projector room and put the cd in the dvd player, the light dims from the small window from the room after you press the button. as the grandiose 1950s orchestra plays to the intro of the movie, you fast-walk to your seat beside beomgyu. he rested his bucket of popcorn in the middle while your drinks are on the other side of you two. you let out your breath as you see the book open and introduce the prologue of the story. the story of a young girl of a widowed gentleman who married his second wife with her two daughters. the man died and the wife’s true nature comes out where she is jealous of the young girl while always forwarding her and her daughters’ interests.

Thus, as time went by, the chateau fell into disrepair, for the family fortunes were squandered upon the vain and selfish stepsisters, while Cinderella was abused, humiliated, and eventually forced to become a servant in her own house. And yet, through it all, Cinderella remained ever gentle and kind, for with each dawn she found new hope that someday, her dreams of happiness would come true.

a white space you are in.

a rectangle window shows a scene of you and beomgyu sitting down in the theater watching the movie now in front of you.

yes, you.

you looked at the other windows that are surrounding you as you look at yourself in three different states.

buying something in the marketplace.

cleaning tables in the tavern.

watching a movie with a man.

the same man you met in all three instances.

as you looked down on yourself, you’re wearing a flowy blue dress that dances the air yet no wind is present here. hands open in front of you as you see the tint in your skin slowly fading. yes, the tint of the blue of fading away too. saturated. turning gray.

like ash.

ash…

“ashfool!”

you turn your head to see your stepmother who is now wearing a floor-length light purple dress by the open door of your house. your stepsisters climbing into the carriage that is taking them to the debutante wall with their white dresses that contrast the last of the setting sun behind them. blinking your eyes to gather yourself up, you turn to look at your stepmother and give a small “my apologies.” for letting your mind wander away.

but it felt like someone is watching you.

“take care of the house. clean the floor of our rooms. we will arrive after midnight so i want you to prepare tea.” you nod along the way as she rambles, walking down the step of the patio of the home as you lean against the door, already closing half the door away. as the door of the carriage closes, you said “take care.” before the carriage strides away and you push the door close.

you listen to the footsteps approaching behind you as you lean your head against the door. turning around, you view the magic and sparkly presence of your fairy godmother you met two days ago. seeing her holding a beautiful white dress and pair of gloves with accented blue accessories for your hair and a pair of glass slippers she handcrafted only for the size of your feet.

after beomgyu and you part ways outside of the marketplace because he has to go back home, you bought everything you needed for the rotisserie chicken your stepsister requested before going back home on your feet. as you arrived, made dinner for them after they have gotten home from whatever they are doing. while you clean the dishes up and prepare yourself to rest for the night, you realize light coming from a garden and a yelp outside. your curiosity makes you move to meet a lady sitting on the ground; in a glitter dress that reflects the moonlight, around the age of what your mother is supposed to be if she is alive.

she introduced you as your fairy godmother as you squint your eyes in confusion. but it changes when you recalled her saying, “your mother bestowed me to protect you.”

that night, you talked to her as if you are talking to your parents again: openly and enthusiastically. you mentioned how sad you are the past few years and mention the man you met earlier in the day. the mention of the debutante ball she hears makes her react happily as you watch her rambling about what kind of dress you have to wear for the ball. yet, you stopped her as you don’t want to pressure her to get you to go.

“aren’t you excited to see your prince?”

“he’s not my prince, and he’s also not a prin-“

“i can consider that boy to be like that for you.” as she touches your nose with her pointer finger, sparkles come from them.

yesterday is the most hectic day in your entire life as you have to take care of the house and the occupants while also your new guest. even though she wanted to help you with her magic, you always deny her as you want to do your job on your own. your critter friends also want to join the special occasion as the fairy godmother gives a spell to them that makes them talk. for the first time, you hear your friends talk and interact with you more than they did before—more dynamic especially as you can assign their voices to each other. you listen as your fairy godmother asks request for them to be your butlers and horses and they agree—wanting to make you happy as your eyes glisten from hearing their intentions.

looking at the mirror in your tower, you see yourself in the white dress that is a staple for a debutante ball but the blue accessories give a difference to you that could help you slightly stand out, making you remember the different flower colors on your stepsisters’ hairs. you look at fairy godmother appearing behind you wearing a blue dress similar to your accessories holding a fan for the dance card, looking at the reflection of you proudly as her hands caress your upper arms.

“your mother would be so proud,” she muttered as you have tears glistening in your eyes, feeling the vast happiness from your heart as the pain subsides for a moment.

as you walk down the tower, you find a carriage made of pumpkin—that doesn’t resemble a pumpkin at all—that fairy godmother got from the inventory with a few of your critter friends turning into butlers and horses. you give a smile to them as godmother walks into the carriage and guides you inside.

“we have to arrive there early so stepmother won’t catch us.” you voice out to her.

“sure, dear.” she flicks her wrist as you heard yelping from outside and a rush of winds and the trees move fast as the carriage lands on the road with more streetlamps on the side. the bustling crowd of the town is fading in as fairy godmother whispers to the horses to follow the other carriages to the castle.

you can see outside the many carriages that carry other debutantes lining up from the small window at the front of the carriage, the door being open by the butlers at the main entrance. sweat forming on your palms as you rub them against your covered knees before your godmother puts her hand on yours, smoothing it down with her thumb as you look at her and catch a glimpse of your mother for a few frames of time. you smile as you took a huge breath when you see the butler arrives at the door of the carriage and open it. the man’s hand opens to help you stand up and step down from the carriage where you watch other people walking to the door. your godmother stood beside you as she escort you to the entrance with the others, no sign of your stepmother and stepsisters, no sign of beomgyu.

every debutante is to be introduced when they arrive and enter the main room where the queen and her son are stationed. you just learned that the son is also debuting this season from godmother as you are preparing to go the day before. the queen wants to find the right partner for him. you notice a sparkle coming from the godmother beside you as you walk near the announcer—a name and title showing up at the bottom of the list when godmother steps up and points your name. as the door opens, you held your head high, introducing yourself to the bustling crowd.

“lady (y/f/n) of house (l/n).”

though you are on top of the staircase, you felt almost everyone turning their heads towards you, their stare piercing into you. godmother beside you as she guides you down the flight of stairs; meeting the eyes of boys and girls your age, their maternal figures that chaperone them, and a throne at the end of the hall elevated. the queen sat in the middle with the small yet luxurious seat beside hers. a man stood in front of it, eyes focused on you. the prince.

it seems weird to know that the mothers of the sons go to your godmother who is surrounded by them asking for a place in your card that she holds when your eyes are looking only at one spot. the steps coming from your glass slippers seem to ring in your ears louder than the crowd itself as it opens in front of you as they look between you and the prince. your eyebrows lifted as the prince walks down from the throne beside his mother’s, their facial features much more prominent. medals hanging on their torso as you see the familiar smile on their face.

beomgyu.

when he steps in front of you, you curtsy as best as you can after having not curtsy for a long time because of your isolation. “your highness…” you mumbled.

beomgyu looks at you as you return to your position. a hand gently takes yours as you watch him leaning down to kiss your covered hand. “lady (y/n).”

you let out a small smile as you can receive godmother’s voice approaching you. “dear, i didn’t get the names because i want to consult with you fi- ohh your highness.” you glance beside her to watch her curtsy.

“you can rise,” beomgyu mutters as you looked behind him to see the queen stepping up to walk behind him as you and everyone near her presence curtsy.

“your majesty.” you acknowledge her presence before raising your head. her chuckle in the most elegant and ethereal way you’ve ever heard.

“i supposed my son here wants to write in your card?” the queen asks towards beomgyu as he gives a nod. you look at godmother, pupils trembling in your eyes as you don’t know what to answer, recalling your practice session last night with her after a long time of not dancing. you wanted to curse on whoever put so many dance styles in one ball and the need to learn all styles. so as a bargain between you and her, you only wanted to do one dance, and it’s only with beomgyu if you met him. with the revelation of him being the prince, the burden grows.

“of course, we would love to.” godmother said beside you as she puts the name on your card while you look sheepishly at him, who is wearing a beautiful suit. that was when you picked up the string quartet playing from the corner as people went to the edge of the room and left the middle spacious for all the dancers.

“may i, my lady?” beomgyu gently speaks as he opens his hand to you. you were holding your breath the whole time as you finally let it out when you put your hand on his.

“we may.”

beomgyu brought you to the middle of the space where other people dance. you brought your hands into the right position that you learned last night and he reciprocates, hands on your hand and waist respectively as you slowly dance, following the melody of the music. feeling the glass slippers light taps on the floor.

“you look beautiful tonight.” beomgyu compliments, blood rushing, getting your face warm.

“thank you, your highness. you as well.”

“please stop with the address. makes me feel awkward.” his nagging results in both of you giggling as you dance. brushes of other women’s dresses grazed you as you both move around.

“well… this is me…” you mumbled to him.

“and this is me. you did lie to me when you said you are a child of nobody,” he replied with the words you spoke to him last time.

“it is a long story to tell.”

“and i want to listen to it all.”

“don't you have more dances to do? besides…” your eyes gaze at him as he guides you in the dance, sensing your arms aching for staying in the same position much longer than what you practice. “you are the one in need of a wife.”

beomgyu looks somewhere other than you, the same thing he did when he was thinking from the last time you saw him. humming flows to your ears from. “my dear mother wants me to find someone to dance to but i told her about wanting a specific girl i met on the streets for my first dance.”

you bashfully glance at him as you focused on your footwork to push the nervousness behind you when he continues, “and my last for the ball as well.”

-

“it will not work.”

“it is!”

“it is working. hold still.”

you hold on to the frame of the mirror before you as you sense a pull on your abdomen that is so strong you almost fling. as the ribbons are pulled from behind, you look at the reflection in the mirror, holding your breath. colorful dresses upon colorful fabrics stack in the cabinet almost the whole four walls of the room. sieun fanning your face and wiping your sweat using a handkerchief while haram stood behind, tying the ribbon. haram’s mother, the owner of the shop, looks proudly at the three beautiful women as she pulls out the masks she made.

after the conversation with the mysterious traveler named beomgyu and the promise you both partaken in, haram quickly asks her mother for dresses so the three of you could go to the masquerade ball. luckily, she had dresses she created inspired by her muse: her own daughter and her friends. a beautiful pink flowy gown with large sleeves until her hands. while sieun also wears a similar one to haram’s, but the dress is yellow and black with ribbons tied to the front. yours was undoubtedly blue—said the dressmaker—that trains down until it grazes the floor before you wear your shoes.

haram’s mother shows the three of you the three masks corresponding to your dress colors from the leftover fabric when she makes it the day haram told her they’re going until today. you put on the mask that covers the upper part of your face and ties the ribbons behind your head as if you are wearing your dress, feeling it pressing down on your cheeks and a frame forming around your vision. you were smoothing down the gown when you hear the light sobs coming from the older woman as she looks at the three of you, no words cannot express what emotion she is expressing as she let tears go down her cheeks while smiling as wide as she could.

“my daughters have grown up so well," she said as she hugged haram, before standing in front of you and sieun.

“your mothers would be proud.”

the woman pushes the three of you out of the shop as you watch other people in suits and dresses and walk to the imposingly enormous castle in the middle of the town, all wearing masks and clothing according to the theme. walking closer as you enter the castle gates, there’s a view of buffets of food placed outside for all the low-income citizen that comes to eat. a gracious gesture by the royals to show their selflessness behind their luxury. servers even wear uniform masks as they bring the trays of drinks and light meals across the ballroom that leads has a stair that branches out for the royal family to arrive at the top of it, where you can see the king and queen behind their regal masks and outfit, no presence of their son otherwise.

your eyes spin around along with the movement of the people that dance in the middle of the room, trying to find the man with tied hair somewhere. both of your friends stayed on the sidelines as they served themselves free food and drinks, letting loose for closing the tavern just for today. eyes glance towards your shoulder as you feel a tap to see a finger as you trail it to the figure wearing white and gold, the mask resembles the flow of his outfit as the black hair is let down with a length until the end of his nape. looking up, you see him wearing a beautiful crown made of flowers, branches, and beautifully carved shards of glass that you’ve seen both the king and queen also have in their own crowns.

the prince.

“your highness.” you bow your head whilst trying your best to curtsy, holding for a few seconds before you felt a caress on your forearm as you return to your earlier position and see him gently kissing your hand before looking back up at you.

“may i dance with you?” he asks in an ethereal sounding voice, his posture poised with a dust of elegance exuding from him. the prince wanting to dance with you? of course, you can’t deny it as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime moment. but your mind is still wandering to at least find the man you are here for.

“you may,” you reply after landing your eyes back on him as he brought you to the middle of the room as the other dancers seem to move away for you. muscles becoming tense as you look to the others with your arms flailing to follow the right pose before the prince held your hand and body in place in his.

“try to relax and follow my lead,” he said with you nodding right after as your body moves on the floor, following the melody of the music and the flow of other dancers. you notice that the couples dancing were staring at their partner’s eyes, but the reality of you dancing with the prince and having to meet your eyes with his is daunting. your mind goes elsewhere as you let him move your body however he sees, wondering if beomgyu came here or not.

“what are you thinking?” your head moves to the voice in front of you as you met the prince’s piercing eyes behind his mask.

“my apologies, your highness. i was wondering if my acquaintance has arrived yet,” you speak truthfully as your eyes on his focus on the mask that covers his cheekbones instead. you move with the others in the dance and both of your body rotates, following the flow that has been created you can glance at the entrance as you waited for beomgyu to arrive, but the prince immediately felt how your body becomes rigid as you see a group of three women entering the room instead. though it’s almost a week ago since you last met them, you can recognize them by their hair colors, their postures, and their dress colors.

your stepmother and stepsisters.

“i- i have to go.” panic seeps into your words as the prince turns his head to the entrance. you search everywhere for the nearest exit but failed as the sea of people around you covers it. you told your friends that you were only here for beomgyu and will return home to the tavern if you met him, hoping to have at least an interaction with him for a few seconds before your stepmother and stepsisters arrived. the last time you met them was the day you told them you won’t go to the ball, which changed with the appearance of beomgyu the next day. but you still remember the ridiculous comments you got about how if you’re there, you won’t change the prince’s attention anyway.

“i know where we can go.” a whisper said into your ear as your eyes gaze at the prince’s presence near you, his breath caressing the skin that is not covered by the mask on your face as a tug pulled on your arm where he guides you away from the sparse space into the crowd. you see other patrons seem to bow their heads to the prince, but he ignores them when you arrive at a set of doors and open them to the hallway bustling with servers.

he brought you along the hallway before arriving at a terrace with a garden before you, hedges stand tall as you step down to the garden and enter the hedges. your feet stumbling on the gravel path as he walks straight then turns a few corners as you look at a beautiful fountain with patches of flowers around it. breath heavy, he pulled you to the stone bench near the fountain as your eyes glare at him.

“you need to go back, your highness. it is your ball after a-"

“i needed that time to escape,” he speaks while ruffling his hair, the crown on top of him nudges as he picks it up and put it down beside him, stretching his head as he’s free from the heavy-looking accessories he has to wear.

you stood up as you walk to the cut you come from only to be bombarded by the hedge walls surrounding the two of you. wanting to leave as you don’t want to make the prince feel uncomfortable when you should find your friends so you can return home.

“please stay.” the other person said as you turn your body around. the ends of your dress meet your ankle as you watch the prince leaning his head down. when he sees the front of your feet in his vision, he lifts his head. as you look at him from your standing position, his face is shined by the moonlight above you. that’s when you see it.

beneath the mask around his eyes, shadows forming under them, skin sunken as veins shows near the skin’s outermost surface. how is straining his eyes so that he could wake up and stay awake.

“you should rest, your highness.” you bluntly speak as you see how his lips pouted before he lets out a chuckle.

“it’s too obvious, isn’t it?” his irises move down, knowing what your comment meant.

“yes, it is.” you blinked your eyes before looking away.

“i didn’t ask for this.” your eyes stayed looking at the water sprouting out of the fountain as the prince continues to talk.

“a masquerade ball. my parents truly use this occasion so that i could find a match or they could match me up with some noble daughters from all over the kingdom, saying that you’re getting too old when in fact i just arrive at the adulting threshold.” he sighs as you turn your head to the side, seeing the prince from the corner of your eyes.

“everyone was too busy for the ball that i don’t have any time to settle down my mental and physical being for something i don’t prepare and had no say in preparing. though the banquet is noble enough, we can focus on that instead rather than putting on this lavish event.” you nod along with his words, attentive to the change of volume of his spoken words as it gets louder and louder. hands in front of you together, you turn your body to see the prince’s head facing the night sky, giving the view of his neck and adam’s apple as he breathes the fresh air.

feet moving across the grass, you stood beside him and said, “happy birthday…” as a small comment as you recall the purpose of the ball held today other than for him to find a wife.

you didn’t expect his hand to move out and grab yours in his, reminding you of how he holds you for most of the time you are here. his head tilts down and you notice the sparkles in his irises, a small smile tugging his lips.

“thank you. you’re the first one to remember.”

-

your hands rub against each other as you sit on the bus on the way to your meeting place beomgyu and you agree. fingers playing on the ends of your father’s favorite blazer you kept that you’re wearing on this cold night above the blue dress you got from the thrift shop—a great-looking dress that you felt sorry for its earlier owner who can’t see the beauty of it.

after the movie finishes—where the whole time you talked about the characters, their motives, the plot, and the impact of it—beomgyu grumbles as he sees the alarm from his airplane-mode-on phone ringing, reminding him of an upcoming meeting he has where his dad invited him to. when he opens his calendar to check the time, you get a glimpse of a reminder of a charity ball at the end of the weekend. beomgyu notices it too as he paused before looking at you and then at the reminder.

“would you be my date for the charity ball?”

he would then persuade you, saying that you and he can slip away when people are eating their dinner. you had fun that day at the cinema with beomgyu he succeeded in his attempt and you have to prepare for a ball you know will include so many influential rich people—conglomerates—while you don’t even have savings as much as the amount they spend on a lunch in a three-star michelin restaurant.

stepping down from the bus stop at the park near the hotel where the ball is held, you can see a black suv with a man standing in front of it. beomgyu’s bodyguard who you met before watching the movie and after when beomgyu called him to the cinema, a sigh of disappointment comes out of him as he realizes how you perfectly lie to him while beomgyu is rolling his tongue to him before they left. the man seems to detect you under the flickering streetlights as you approach the car. his body turns to the backseat door and his hand rested on the handle.

“mr. choi was worried you would not come. so he stayed in the car.”

when the door opens, beomgyu’s body jerks from the sound as he faces you in a suit and tie combo. the frown on his face is replaced with a smirk as he helps you climb into the backseat with him, his bodyguard returns to the driver’s seat and drive the car away. you didn’t realize your hand was still in his before you let go to rub them on your blazer, glancing to the side to catch beomgyu’s eyes admiring you.

“you look great!” he breaks out. “whose blazer is this?”

“ah, i don’t know the brand, but it’s my dad’s,” you replied, trying to blend in some lingo that his crowd might use even though when you spoke it does sound a bit out of touch.

“i don’t care what brand it came from. yet it looks great and compliments your dress.” he rambles, giggles coming from you as you face beomgyu.

“thanks, gyu.” your sudden nickname of his makes his eyebrows raised before he lets out a wide smile that reaches his eyes.

“my pleasure.”

yet you aren’t prepared for the number of flashes coming from the camera as you walk down the red carpet into the ball. the backdrop behind you mentioning beomgyu’s family business with many interviewers asking him for an interview. gaining steady breathing, you tried to act as relaxed as possible. but, it isn't possible with the amount of exposure you have.

you sense beomgyu’s hands wrapping down to your lower back as you both pose for the pictures, letting out a smile that can highlight you the most before he escorted you away into the large ballroom of circular tables and chairs around it. beomgyu’s hand still rested on your back as he guide you and tap the shoulder of a middle-aged man. the man turns around and you see a face similar to his as the man gave a hug to beomgyu before looking at you.

“is this your date?” the man asked.

“yes, she is. dad.” your eyes widen as you realized you stood in front of beomgyu’s dad, the chairman of this conglomerate himself. you can see him scan you and the outfit you wore—smile slowly widening before he turns to pull the hand of a middle-aged woman who turns to glance at beomgyu and you.

“oh my- beomgyu. you didn’t tell me your girlfriend is so pretty.”

girlfriend?

your eyes turn to him as beomgyu sheepishly laughs along with the woman he calls—and you just realized—his mom, noticing the resemblance of them in beomgyu. his mom approaches you and tugs you away to the tables, moving past the tables at the back to arrive at the table near the stage where a podium stands. beomgyu follows behind the two of you as his mom looks at you enthusiastically. she sat both of you down in the seats beside each other.

you wanted so much to talk to beomgyu beside you but when you think got the opportunity, someone else always cuts you off. that’s when you finally felt the dread building up and the realization of the aftermath of the captured image of you being here with someone as important as a conglomerate’s son.

your stepmother could figure it out or your stepsisters could find something on the gossip news with your picture in it.

the event went by in a blur as your body move on autopilot, while your mind just think of the worst things that might happen to you when you arrive home. you can hear them calling you selfish for hiding such a high-profile connection from them before they degrade you and say you don’t deserve to be in connection to someone like him and it should be them cause they will nurture the connection better than you. you either look at the three-course meal being served to you or your lap, occasionally to the stage as you see the performance and the mc guiding the event. the air inside the room sends a shiver down your skin as you sit without your blazer, knowing it resting behind you on the chair you sit on.

your eyes glance towards the stage to see beomgyu giving a speech on the podium before looking away, not realizing he stayed his gaze on you for longer than you did on him.

the applause rings in your ears as hands settle on your shoulders when beomgyu leans down and whisper into your ear, “you want to get out of here?”

“yes,” you spoke, already having your blazer and purse in your arms.

that’s what it takes for beomgyu to excuse both of you as you both want to ‘take a shot at the bar’, when in reality he slips you away to the outside world from the kitchen and arrive at a small alley as he and you run together down the streets envelop by the night, finally being able to breathe for all the suffocation you held as he is also doing the same to you. you walk past buskers performing on the street and a road full of people with street food carts all over. ordering a few snacks as you watch the buskers perform, giving them money as appreciation.

“why did your mom say that i’m your girlfriend?” you said as you lean back on the bench overlooking the river, a large bridge where vehicles can go across right beside it as skyscrapers from the other side glimmer along with the stars.

“gosh. i’m really freaking sorry to bring you into my trouble.”

“well, too late ‘cause you did.” you let out a giggle at him while he finishes an ice cream cup.

“long story short, my mom and dad expected me to come with a date for this year’s charity ball. but i haven’t found one so i thought “why not?” and asked you before i go."

“well, why me?” you nudge your exposed shoulder to his covered one. the only thing coming into your mind is for you to tease beomgyu.

“i just have this feeling that for as little as our time interacting, you know me so well.” beomgyu lets out a sigh as he looks straight at the river in front of you. “like i’ve met you before in some past lifetime i might have.”

eyebrows furrowed, you shook your head as you don’t want something to seep into your min-

wait, why are you thinking like that? no. continue with whatever you’re doing.

“i- i guess i could sense that too?” you replied, head bops in confusion.

“right?” he turns his face towards you. he looks at his hand between the two of you before looking up, “but i never thought mom would immediately comment on you being my girlfriend. she’s- well-“ he paused as you pursed your lips. “you blend in well enough that she didn’t think you were out of place.”

something struck into your mind after he said, ‘cause even though he considered so, you didn’t. you don’t assume you blend in enough. you felt like you are a snowball in the middle of magma, melting slowly as you almost succumb to pressure before beomgyu noticed and took you away.

“thank you, gyu.” you said as you look at him shyly. “i didn’t feel like it though.”

“but you did so freaking well,” he said as put the empty ice cream cup on the other side of him, scooting closer to you on the bench. you look at your thighs touching as beomgyu lifts his hand, so it doesn’t squish between the two of you. sensing something cold press again your cheek, your eyes move to see a hand that belongs to beomgyu before looking at him in front of you. your eyes wandering from his wide eyes, cute nose, and plump lips.

“you were amazing,” he mumbles as you can feel his eyes not focusing on yours, but downwards.

as your breath hitches, you close your eyes and wait for him to the first move. both of your hands on your lap linked as you waited for the feeling of his lips on yours. but it never comes, so you open your eyes.

and see a split vision of three men trying to kiss you at the same tim- what?

a force pulls your body from behind you as you arrived at white space to see the three different windows of a couple almost kissing, all in a pause frame. all are from different times when you notice that all the women have something blue worn on them while the man beside her all have differing hairstyles. the longer you look, the more you realized the women are you and by proxy, the men in front of them are all beomgyu.

you stare at the three different filters on each window. the one where you are wearing something from a regency era has an ethereal filter with more white highlights and a tint of pink and purple. the one where you wear something a game of thrones character would wear is more neutral and brown tone while the last one with the backdrop of the city is more neon. all wearing age-appropriate clothing, but something just doesn’t feel right.

the three windows are on the three sides you could see. and if it is a room, there must be a fourth wall.

so, you turn around to find a full-body mirror in front of you reflecting your current state. the dress you are wearing is losing saturation every time you walk forward. not only the dress but also your skin tone as it contrasts with the white that is surrounding you. like smoke in a clear sky, like a speck of dust on a clean floor.

like ash falling down from a burning fire.

ash.

soot.

cinder.

looking at yourself hauntingly, you suddenly hear something coming from the mirror. not in front, not inside, but behind it. you step carefully on the white floor as you walk around the mirror that stood behind you without support. you catch a glance of a wall of text appearing on a floating laptop behind the mirror—you recognize it as yours. when you walk closer and skim-read the text, you take in what it’s trying to say.

Cinderella is a folk tale with thousands of variants throughout the world. The protagonist is a young woman living in forsaken circumstances that are suddenly changed to remarkable fortune, with her ascension to the throne via marriage

wait.

“a young woman living in forsaken circumstances, having dead biological parents and having a stepparent and step-siblings who, with no reason, hate her for being her. a young woman who found remarkable fortune by magic or coincidence, maybe even fate that could ascend her to the throne or any position of power,” you mumbled out.

isn’t this just your life?

but not your life, singular. but your lives. all three that you can see on the windows previously.

you who have a stepmother and stepsisters meet beomgyu who is a stranger that sits in a position of power and you both become infatuated with each other. all three of you went to a ball to meet your respective beomgyu, a prince charming or equivalent of it.

if you followed the cinderella story you know, you know what will happen next. you have to go home by midnight, stepmother and sisters then found out about your whereabouts at the ball. the prince charming will have to find you so that you both will accept your attraction and both be married so you can live happily ever after.

happily ever after.

you peer back at the laptop expecting to see the wall of text where it’s replaced by a question.

“what is your reality, ashfool?”

you blink your eyes to arrive back at the cinema from the start of your story, scrolling the document file you open for your task as you try to find any error. nothing came onto your radar other than the abundance of ashfool written in your file.

ashfool is a story of a girl…

… then ashfool has to live with her cruel stepmother…

bewildered, you see the cd case beside the laptop you put. taking a glimpse at the case cover to find something not what you remember.

disney’s ashfool and the cartoon main protagonist wearing a gray dress instead of-

what color is her dress again?

and why does she resemble you?

you quickly open the other tabs on your browser you remember are all the resources you need to write your review and you get the same thing. ashfool replacing the word you forgot. so, you open your own letterboxd account to search for the movies with your nickname to find the list that widens your eyes.

ashfool. ashfool. an ashfool story. another ashfool story. ashfool 2: dreams come true.

all media related to ashfool has your face and beomgyu‘s face on it, through photography; drawing; animation. all of them. your breathing quickens.

you close your laptop as you hear a muffled noise not from outside, but inside the theater—something playing. you run inside the door, finding the winding cushion-covered hallway colors saturating as you stare at a movie with you on the screen, the only colored thing in the whole theater. a movie of you in what seems to be a school, mumbling about losing your mp3 player in the school’s homecoming dance, before you look away into the locker you opened as the camera focuses on beomgyu walking by. holding onto the said mp3 player.

“what is your reality, ashfool?”

your head turns to a voice calling you as you realize your stepmother sitting on one of the seats in the cinema, wearing clothes half and half of a modern and nobility dress. her glaring eyes stare towards you with a smug smile on her face. her body leans forward, eyes piercing into your soul as your heart beats faster.

“now you know that in every reality. i will always be there. your sisters will always be there. we will always be there to let you know.”

as she finished her sentence, you see her stand up before movements sound arise as you see clones upon clones of your stepmother all turn towards you.

“you don’t deserve beomgyu.”

and they all move towards you, the clone nearest to you grabbing onto your body as you pull with all your might to let go. the crowd stamped towards you as it was too late to push the clone away when you can feel the hands reaching for you, scratching your skin with all the hatred she has for you.

you don’t deserve him.

you don’t deserve your inheritance.

you tried to struggle out of the sea of bodies as you use all your abilities to climb out. pushing and pulling to find a cracking space you can push your limb out. but with every movement to your success, another hand pulls you down and your clothes shredding by the sheer force of power. all the energy flowing out of you as the volume of colorful fabrics trying to swallow your monochromatic self. your eyes clouded with tears as you just want it to stop.

please, stop.

please, stop.

the only thing for them to stop is for you to stop.

and so you stop and let yourself succumb to them. sitting in a fetal position as you sink into the sea of your stepmothers, you try to focus on your heartbeat. the pain marks on your body sting you are still clueless about what made you deserve them.

the pressure pressing on you from all sides as you cover your body and face as much as you can, tears and snot staining your skin as you do your best to rock yourself to calmness.

to put the pain subsides as you accept your demise.

“(y/n)?” you felt your body being shaken.

your breathing comes out rapidly as you shake your head, not wanting to know who called you.

you rather you don’t know than suffer.

“please…“ you heard the desperation coming from the voice.

you lift your head while still having your eyes covered by your eyelids. the eyelids shield the piercing white environment as everything that you heard becomes nothing in your ears, remnants of it floating in the air as it fades out. only the sound of faint footsteps walking closer to you is now in focus.

you felt… safe?

because of that, you slowly open your eyes. the brightness gives a sting to your eyes as it waters more to help get it away. the blurry vision makes you look before you a blurry silhouette, lines so soft it blends. rubbing the moist coming from your eyes, you can finally see it

shades of blue.

three different shades of blue on an outfit.

head lift higher, you see the faces of yourself, all crouching down and looking at you. all versions of you you’ve seen before from the windows. the regency era you wear an outfit with the lightest blue color while modern era you wear the same thing but in the darkest blue out of the three of them.

“you okay?” she said. as the other lends a hand out for you to reach. when you put your hands on your other version’s hand, you could observe how saturated you are. your skin with all the tints bled out, only leaving you in a husk of a shade of gray. standing up, you can see the three windows you saw but with all of you missing. because they’re here with you.

“did all of you know?” you asked.

“well. all of us is you.” one of them said.

“and there are more than the four of us.” another speaks as she tugs your hand in hers as the four of you walk in white space beyond the three windows you find yourself in. no mirror to be seen.

instead, they show you more windows where you and beomgyu almost kissed. all in different attires, different situations, but you recognize underneath them it has the same premise. you look at yourself and him in tight suits with fire behind the two of you. another window shows you and him having animal ears as if you are hybrids. more of you in school uniforms, hospital environment, the edge of space, a clay version. all telling the same story of you and him.

“but did you know our story is a folk tale?” you asked the other three as they turn towards you.

“as said by my professor.” one of them speaks up. “folk tale is how we communicate our culture. a story to tell. supposedly every story always came from a fact and your story indeed happened in every timeline.”

“aren’t we-“ you try to articulate. “tired doing the same thing over and over again?”

“being tormented the same way with our stepmothers in each version?” one of them said as she finished your question.

but it’s noticeable how different all of you are. how different your upbringings are. you all have the same mind, opinions, and ideology. even though you are the same person. you can read the expressions of the other you as they glance at each other, even giving nods as they all turn to you and gave you a nod, knowing you will also say it.

“this is our only way to get happily ever after.” all of you said, except you who is as grey as your fuzzy mind.

ignoring their stunned faces, you walked past windows upon windows of you and beomgyu in different times; different worlds; different parts of history; different universes; before stopping at one of them you recognized. the only one that is moving.

a small local cinema stood in between a hardware store and a pet shop. signs hanging outside with lights fluttering in and out of liveliness because of broken wires beneath them.

from the outside of the glass doors, you’re visible. leaning against a counter you stood behind, an open book of pride and prejudice by jane austen in your hand rested on top of it. you wore a white shirt tucked behind a dark blue apron.

the you from the start of a story you are reading right now.

you do remember it, right?

“we have to stop it,” you mumbled as you step back only to be greeted by the three versions of yourself you were with. you glance back to find rows and columns of you seating on the theater seats—watching the window you were just watching. their hands grab you as they pulled you to an empty seat right behind where you stand, but instead of sitting on it, the seat suddenly deforms as you are being drowned by it. white void slowly fading into black.

that’s when you see the other windows fading in and out as you are seated on a seat that they dragged you into. all of them show the same thing. the three of you you were with before walking back home from the ball.

you are running back home from the debutante ball as the clock struck midnight. fairy godmother helping you reach near to your home with the magic she helped for you and your critter friends before she fades away—her time helping you here is done. white dress torn as you walk barefoot on the dirt. holding the only glass slipper left as the other slipped from your foot as you run away to your carriage. terrified eyes trembled after being caught by your stepmother on your way out.

you are now walking back to the tavern with your drunk friends on either side of you. no meeting beomgyu and also a no to the prince as you rejected his advances. the dress being ripped as you push yourself out of the hedge maze when your mask falls as the prince is following behind you. eyes meeting your stepsister’s as the look of shock on her face crushes you before you left her to go report to your stepmother. letting out an enormous sigh as you arrived at the dark tavern where you brought them into your room before they collapsed on the floor.

you hear the vibration coming from inside your blazer as beomgyu stops his movement. the terrifying messages from your stepmother bombarding your phone before she then calls you. your hands shaking because of the tons of message notifications coming in above the unanswered call. you left beomgyu alone at the bench in panic, leaving behind your dad’s blazer on the bench to run to the nearest bus stop to go to the cinema. knowing them, they could threaten you by touching or vandalizing it if they want to as you remember the threat they've made in the past.

then, more and more windows show up as it shows you all the ways your stepmother torments you with your stepsisters. physical and mental pain occurring as you were told you were a “bad kid”, a “terrible person”, and “not deserving of nobility”. even you catch an animated version of yourself trying to get out of the room by using the force and your shoulder to the door that didn’t budge.

wait. an animated version of you from the regency era.

turning your head on the screen, you watch how school girl you is being pushed into a spaceship from the surface of the moon, leaving you there to not escape. you see yourself in what seems to be an adventurer outfit being swallowed by a haunted house as the phantom of your stepmother commands every piece of furniture to pin you up on the floor.

all of your reality seeps into each other.

the chair you sit in suddenly stops as it turns you to the side to see walls upon walls of white typographies of only two words—cinderella and ashfool—before the chair forces itself forward so you can collide with them and the other walls smash into you as words upon words swim and touches your skin. they ask you to embrace who you are, who you are fictionally is real.

you always are and always will be ashfool.

the black and white blends into the color of your greyscale body as they pressed into you. you’ve always felt that you are suffocated ever since your mother died. you don’t want to blame your father because he is your only guardian in front of the genuine nature of your stepfamily. but it just isn’t fair to know that in order for you to live happily, you have to face such torment and pain all the time.

you let your eyes close, letting your mind focus on other things instead of the words scraping your skin so they could mark you up. the vision behind your eyelids is black as the black background helps perfectly, every ash in your vision slowly dissipates as you steady your breathing.

don’t worry.

you’re okay.

there has to be something that could help you escape this cycle.

something to help you deviate.

deviate.

a shining white dot appears in your vision. no pressure coming from around you as you can now stand up. the only word that is sticking into your mind is 'deviate'.

deviate so you can reach your freedom.

deviate so you can make your own choices.

deviate so your life isn’t tied to a folk tale.

deviate so you won’t be attached to a cliché fanfiction plot.

you took a step closer to that white dot.

the steps you are taking are getting wider as you turn it from a step to a walk.

“are you really sure about this, (y/n)?” you heard your own voice calls you as your head turn to see yourself in the animated version of a cinderella dress. all you can do is nod your head as you continue forward.

“gosh (y/n) just give it up already. it’s not going to work.” another one of your voices speaks to you as you see yourself in a disco attire of wide pants and a vest. but, you turn that walk into a stride.

tens upon tens of your own voices call out to you as all of you turn up to look at yourself approaching that widening white dot in a black void. stride turn to jog. jog turns to dash. and dash turns to run, as more of you stood in front of yourself—trying to make you understand that this is how it’s going to be. that what you are doing is not going to work.

but no. you understand differently from them as you pushed them away with a strength you didn’t know you held as you are only a few steps away from the white light floating above the ground of the void. carefully stepping closer to the item as none of the other versions of you trying to stop you. you notice that the white dissipates as you met a floating glass shard. looking into one side, you see a reflection of your ashen self with no one behind you—but you glance to see other versions of you standing idle.

both of your hands reach both sides of the shard as your surroundings forms into a glass cave where asymmetry geometric shapes create mirrors so you can see yourself. well, different versions of yourself wearing something blue. in the front, back, left, right, above, and below you. the only one that shows you in ash color is the shard you hold. carefully lifting the shard to your eye line, you can see how dead you look. how terrifying your appearance is with a frown mixed with sadness from such a battle of strengths and wits.

you look like you want to quit.

you look like you are ready to leave reality.

you look like your job here is done.

glancing once more at the versions of you in the mirror-like glass wall before your reflection in the shards. you let out a smirk as only one thing came into.

you throw the shard you hold onto the glassy floor. it shattering creates a domino effect from all the glass around you. you can only let out a smile.

so, how can we deviate ourselves?

your eyes opened as you looked at the masked prince in front of you, knowing the identity of the person behind it. your hands reach to ribbons behind you as your mask falls from your face. the prince holding still as you caress his face.

“let your eyes close.” your hand moves to the mask he wears and pulls it off, throwing them to the ground.

“beomgyu,“ you whispered before leaning to connect your lips to his.

“deviating by him knowing the real you. that’s great, (y/n).” you turned beside you as you see the same you in the window as the kiss turns heated at the fountain. the mask is now in your hand as you grabbed them to hold it near you.

you looked at prince beomgyu standing before you as the string quartet stops when you heard the announcement of your stepsisters’ name as they enter the room. instead of running away, you stay still on the dance floor as your stepsisters and stepmother arrive at the balcony and you show your head held high as you face them.

the look of shock on their faces as you tighten your hand in beomgyu’s before godmother steps in to persuade you to let you go. turning around, you tell her, “let them. all of us here will see their genuine nature,“ when your stepmother quickly walks towards you, hand lifted before your vision zooms out to the window as you see yourself getting slapped. head still held high as the others scrambled to help you stay away from her.

“deviating by letting the others know how much of a monster they are. wonderful!” that you in the window said to you as she step down from her glass slippers and give you one of them, holding it in your hand.

your phone vibrates as beomgyu tries to kiss you by the river. you see the number of bombs being dropped on you as your stepmother texts you tons and tons of articles of you and beomgyu before she called you. beomgyu and you look down at the contact name and vibrating phone before you stand up and impulsively throw your phone with all of your might to the river, seeing it dropped into the water by gravity a few meters out before you turned your head to beomgyu.

“it’s a freaking long story. but do you wanna run away with me?“ a hand opens to him as beomgyu lets out a cheeky smile before he grabs them, dragging both of you away down the path into the night.

a white blazer drapes onto your shoulder as you see modern you giving a wide smile before waving a small wave as she runs away into the void.

you turn behind you to see all kinds of significant items that you left so beomgyu could find you—not needing them again as the glass shard that marks your boundaries shatters before all versions of you deviate one by one. you put them in a line on the dark void’s invisible floor, seeing an mp3 player, pointe shoes, and other sorts of stuff you collected as they’re thrown out from the windows of all of you who have deviated.

you pull out a box of matchsticks from the pile that you found. pulling a match out and lighting it up, you’ve looked at the line of the flammable items you have already in place meticulously as you approach the first one at the edge: the mask inside the glass shoes with the white blazer right beside it. you put the match on top of the mask as the flame lit it up and moved towards the blazer.

stepping back, the orange flame turns into blue as more and more items are being engulfed. more and more items that identify you as ashfool or cinderella as people outside this screen called. stepping back and breathing in, you let a wide smile grace your face. eyes looking elsewhere as you see the windows illuminated with a light blue light coming from it as you approach one of them, seeing what happened to each and all of you.

you and beomgyu were talking about the trip you are taking at the end of the social season. the fairy godmother is now gone as you are only left with your glass slippers as a gift from her. but only one thing came into your mind when you remember a proposal he spoke to you a week before.

“my apologies, beomgyu. but i can’t marry you right now.”

beomgyu, with saddened eyes, gives a nod of acknowledgment as you return home to see your stepmother and stepsisters being taken away to face the court. beomgyu, after seeing how harsh they are to you in public, has helped you with the case and your inheritance. seeing your critter friends finished helping to tidy your house up to its old glory days after you are the only resident of the land that is rightfully yours, you pack your bags and leave the town for a while, remembering what beomgyu said to you when you rejected his proposal.

“i will wait for you when you are ready because a countess needs an earl beside her and a prince needs a princess beside him.”

you and beomgyu, on the other hand, celebrated your marriage at the castle as your father’s and mother’s recipes are being faithfully done by the chefs to serve in a banquet. knowing how beomgyu and you wanted freedom out of your own outside of palace duties, you both help run the tavern as the two of waiting for the turn where he and you become king and queen.

seeing your husband from behind the counter, you laugh as you see knights teasing him when he served the drinks. though you realized how awkward he used to be, he talks to you about how rebellious he was and how he always wants to blend into the streets of his own kingdom. even mentioning how he didn’t regret going to the tavern he heard his knights have talked about by overhearing them sooner.

you and beomgyu live a peaceful life after he let you move in into his apartment away from your stepmother and stepsisters after you told him and his parents. finishing your college task together as he prepared to take his place as the ceo while the money his parents gave to you helped you improve the cinema, making you able to hire people who also like movies and wants to help expose the world of cinema—making your parents’ dream into reality.

“what the hell was that ending?” beomgyu’s surprised face makes you giggle as you both finish watching the room. you nod your head as he faces you before saying, “that’s how terrible the movie is.”

you looked at how all of you found your happy endings one by one, with or without beomgyu. but the thing you realized is that you have the freedom to pick whatever ending you like and you can sense the calm of the certainty. that calmness helps you close your eyes as you think of nothing while everything is moving around.

everything you know is right to all of you whoever perceives it as so.

-

“hey, (y/n).” something is shaking your body as you woke up from the sofa you sit on.

you looked around you to the small apartment unit you are in as you see a boy your age wearing a uniform. an outfit you also wear. an outfit for a cinema worker.

looking down at the name tag on his torso, you learn the name of your co-worker and best friend sitting beside you.

beomgyu.

“yeah…?” you rub your face as you trace the streaks of moisture on your cheeks, turning your head to the window to meet the night sky after the time both of your shifts ended.

“if you’re tired, we can skip the movie night-“

“no, i’m fine.” you held onto his upper arm as his eyes met yours, glistening with sparkles and tears collected on the corners. beomgyu slowly rubs a tear away that is threatening to fall out before he opens disney+ on his laptop placed on the coffee table, feeling a rush of warmth going to your cheeks.

“what are we watching tonight?” you asked as you stretched your arms from the tight sleep you seem to have as beomgyu scrolled the homepage down before chuckling.

“cinderella.“

your highness…

lady (y/n).

the hooded man with tied hairs.

your mother would be so proud.

if you’re asking, my dad is a filmmaker and film connoisseur.

would you be my date for the charity ball?

your head shook as you asked, “wait, what’s cinderella?”

taglist: @endzii23 @msxflower @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @stayzentiny @rebsmoonn @boba-beom @feline4txt @ifwtyun @beomgyumineiro @fluffdiaree

can’t tag: @bubblejunnies @meowchikatt @ricepill @kayalayadayla @enchantedrose @johnnysluver @xiaoting999 @010313s

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2022. all rights reserved

[s-9in]

this was a read from last year (i can’t quite put which date but i’m pretty sure was when i’m still in my college probably at december) and i remember how hard i tried to keep quiet from the sobs i’ve had throughout the entire reads. i was casually scrolling down through tumblr with a hope of finding good fics to read before i went to sleep because insomnia never do me well and it was already 2am (when i should be sleeping for a morning class lol but let’s not talk about that)

so, i’m very certain that i’ve shown huge admiration for angst, that i love to have myself feel the pain, the burning ache in my heart and this fic was exactly what i’ve been looking for the past few months. i was drifted away because school and life in general had been tough, but upon reading this fic i felt the need to rant, to talk about how hurt i was. sunghoon has been my first bias ever since, and i know exactly what should’ve woke me up from that day and that was this fic. i won’t talk much because really, i absolutely love this fic and i couldn’t stop thinking about it for three months straight. the breakups, the feeling of abandoned, the dynamic relationship between both oc and sunghoon had my heart wrapped in adoration. i just knew this was a straight storytelling of what has happened to the both of them and a obvious ending, though it might never show the after relationship they’d, but we always knew we could summarise story, and i took part for them being lovers because they love each other a bit too much to ignore. it was overwhelming (in a good way ofc) that this fic still had me rethinking for the cries and painful sobs i did back in my dorm LMAO i am the biggest enthusiast for angst, and this was just perfect as a whole.

no ratings because i dislike the idea of ratings. but this was everything if you need a very good cry to keep you up for a night, trust me, you wouldn’t want to miss the moment when you read a fic over than 10k words count and sobs despite having it finished hours ago. yes, a very good experience if you asked me lol. i never heard much from this author, but definitely keeping eyes because they’ve so much more brilliant masterpieces and i’m nowhere half from reading yet!

this was long than i expected but someone might need it >_•

happy ever after. | SUNGHOON

[ 🎬 ]! ぃ ⸻ 𝗶𝗳 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗲𝘅𝗶𝘀𝘁

synopsis. the break up was abrupt and painful, and park sunghoon can never forget it. until you show up again years later to once again become his bright light underwater. the memories of the past haunt his present and the pictures of you cover his oh so sturdy walls.

pairing. park sunghoon x f!reader

genre. fluff, ANGST, romance, athlete!sunghoon, professional swimmer!sunghoon, journalist!reader, physics nerd!reader, (strangers to lovers + friends to lovers +)exes to lovers!au, open ending?, they're not together but kind of are?

word count. 11.1k

warnings. hints at mommy issues, abandonment issues, insecure selves and miscommunication, no sad ending don't worry oh and not proof read

inspired by. the song payphone; maroon 5, a game called way back into love, and my first ever kdrama weightlifting fairy.

[🗒] NOTE. this was honestly very hard to write and im not even confident that this is good but i hope whoever reads this can like it a just a little bit.

"the people we used to be."

if there's one thing you've always done eversince you came across sunghoon again, catching news of him on a poster on one of the softboards outside your english lecture hall, it was avoiding; avoiding any sort of confrontation or direct encounter with him, always watching from the sidelines.

so how in the world did you find yourself in this situation, having to meet him yet again. pacing about in the corridor, just outside the door to the mens changing room. smacking your lips together time and again, fingers fiddling with the file in the grip of your palms, which apparently are quite wet with sweat, the nervousness getting to you more than when you first met sunghoon in the freshman year of high school.

you knew it would be you who would have to do this but you didn't know it would be at the cost of your job. this morning when you woke up, getting dressed in your best work outfit and actually putting effort to style your hair, all the while you had been hoping to get the promotion that was to be announced. you had packed the usual off white hoodie you wear during sunghoon's matches for the one you had marked on the calendar for today after your work hours. it might seem cliché but once sunghoon had said to you that the hoodie gave him luck while he gave it to you so you could wear it and cheer for him, you still remember it and you still have the cloth, never garnering enough courage to throw it away.

you had gone to confront your editor after you found out that the promotion which was promised to you was given to someone else, your day ruined the moment you stepped into the office to hear from your colleagues that the newbie was given the position you were supposed to get. and it was then when you got this task; interviewing the recently olympic qualified athlete, swimmer park sunghoon. you could probably brand this as the most difficult assignment in your entire journalist career. maybe if had refrained yourself from giving the tmi to your editor about sunghoon being your ex, you could have in all probability, avoided this- remembering how the moment you said that her eyes lit up and she exclaimed you to be the perfect one for the job.

you ponder over what impressions of you sunghoon has in hi mind and whether he would be happy to see you again. the mini devil in your mind echoes to you how he likely doesn't care anymore, or perhaps won't be too delighted by your sudden presence. and so you end up leaving the file and your bag on one of the seats against the wall before rushing to buy some vanilla milk, the one thing you remember that sunghoon used to always have, the one thing he never refused. in hopes to get on his good side from the very beginning you buy a packet of three, taking out one and shoving the rest in your bag when you get back. as soon as you take a deep breath and finally step forward to enter the room, the door opens abruptly and you watch as one by one his opponents leave with their belongings. waiting, you think that maybe he's gonna come out as well and then you'll have to grab the opportunity and stop him.

but that doesn't happen, leaving you no choice but to go in and see for yourself if he's still there or mayhaps he's left when you went to get the milk. the room's not very well lit, but it isn't dark either, walking forward you find no one in sight, that is until your ears pick up the sound of shoes shuffling, laces hitting the floor in flicks and a heavy towel being slipped off, the cloth falling against the metal of a bench. turning right you find his figure on one of the benches, back towards you as he faces his open locker.

"um hey," your voice comes out in a small, soft mumble. hands holding the bottle of vanilla milk, fingers grasped around it playing with the ring sitting on your left index. maybe it is the sense of unfamiliarity in the air, or perhaps the fear of getting attached again after you tried so hard over the years to move on that having your heart race on a racetrack in hot blood with the goal of a winner.

you watch as sunghoon stands up from the bench he was seated on and turns back. if you're 90° then he's standing at a body angle of 120° and head angle of 90°, your mind unconsciously calculates out of nervousness as his eyes lock with yours in an inaudible click. in that moment, all the memories flash before you, the laughs and smiles, the cuddles and kisses, the bickers and jokes, the innocent teenage love and how at one point for a very short time you were intensely crazy over each other that everyone could see it with their eyes closed.

he's shirtless, his white nike shirt which he was just about to put on as you entered the room, hanging loosely through the grip of his hands. your eyes flicker down for a split second, and you catch sight of his toned upper body, his abs so much more prominent and bulging than it used to be in high school, the skin wet with droplets of water reminding you that you're in the locker room of his match venue and exactly why you're here.

when his lips move your gaze moves across his features which have become so manly and sharp that it makes you doubt whether he's sunghoon or someone else, but the same moles you remember are still there making him look as beautiful as he used to.

"hey," his voice reaches your ears as if at a distance yet as if just a whisper in your ear, and you swear you can never get used to it: his matured voice.

"It's y/n," you speak out in an awkward tone as if it's the very first meeting, like you're on a blind date. a hint of astonishment flickers across sunghoon's face and disappears before you even notice it. he stares at you for a few seconds, a silence enveloping the gap, then speaks again,"I know," pauses for an instant then proceeds to wear his shirt as he passes over another comment,"I mean I remember,"

"I'm-" wanting to just get it over with, you recite in your mind how you're here for an interview and that if he has time you could start with it right away, but before you can say it out loud he's cutting you off, "seems like you really don't want to remember," his words confuse you, making you wonder what it is that you don't want to remember, is it your relationship or is it that you used to be way better than how you're communicating now.

"you're behaving like this is the first time we're meeting after the break up. last wednesday, 9 pm, 7-eleven. you're trying too hard to pretend, aren't you?", the harshness in his behavior baffles you, so much that it shows on your features and sunghoon feels sorry to have said it that way, his heart always having a soft spot for you but the years of resentment are way above the line, overpowering any other thing he feels for you. you on the other hand have no idea why he would think like that, there's no way you could forget, you were just trying to be as professional as you could bring yourself to be.

your stack of cup ramens which you ate while working late into the night, just had to finish off that night. you had an incomplete, half-done article to write and having no time to cook yourself dinner you had reached into the cabinets for a cup of your favorite ramen to find the space empty. resulting in you rushing to the nearest 7-eleven a couple blocks away, not too far but not too close either. buying ten at time in a hurry you had dashed out in haste steps quickly walking down the staircase a block away from the store. and as cliche as it sounds your had to bump into your ex coming down the adjacent staircase. your legs had stopped before you could even realize it. you stood still on the platform connecting the two staircases, your eyes fixed on his figure. you had tried so hard to never let him see you, and then, when you hadn't even walked right into where he's supposed to be, he's there. after so many years he's standing there right across, looking at you. maybe he had seen you before and you aren't aware of it but the fact that you were face to face then was hard to avoid and just walk away. you couldn't do that, you've already done that once, long back.

you hadn't realized when he had stepped down the last of the steps and walked over to you, leaning against the pole as you silently stared at each other. he was the first one to speak, voice barely above a whisper in the air.

"did you sleep well?" he had asked.

in your mind you had gone over this a countless number of times, a number of possibilities you had thought of and a number of things you wanted to say. the question 'you're back?' being the first and most important thing you had reminded yourself to say everytime of thought of this scenario. but then when he actually stood there, a real sunghoon and not the one in your imaginations, you forgot everything. every little detail you had planned to make him believe it's your first time seeing him after years flying out the window. honestly you didn't care about all that at the moment, you couldn't even think of it. all you felt was confused, you had always thought you got over him. that the only feeling left in you for him was the guilt but the tiny little spark of butterflies when you locked eyes scared you.

it scared you because you knew things are never going to be the same anymore. you're not in high school anymore. he's not your sunghoon anymore.

when you had nodded in a yes he smiled a little, trying to mask it on by brushing his fingers through his hair as his face returned to the stoic expression it previously held. you knew he meant to ask a lot more questions, questions way more serious than just wanting to know if you had slept well. and perhaps he would have asked them if it hadn't been for the call he had gotten. as much it had dreaded you: facing him, it had left a print on your day, leaving you feeling a sense of happiness.

from the way he had talked to you that day, never did you ever think this is how your meeting today would turn out. honestly somewhere in your subconscious you were actually looking forward to this, hoping the ruined mood would get better after this proper reunion but the situation turned out to be completely opposite.

"I was just trying to stay professional. in case you weren't told, I'm here for the olympics qualification interview," you speak in a monotonous tone trying to supress the clear hurt you felt. if he is going to behave like this then there's no point in keeping good expectations. if years ago, someone were to say that sunghoon would be speaking like this to you then you would've never believed because sunghoon was never that type. he never treated you any less than a gem shining in his iris, even when you argued or did something he didn't like. but as you had thought things are indeed not the same anymore.

sunghoon stares at you for a good ten seconds then proceeds to pick up his duffle bag and slings it across his shoulders "I had refused to do it," he answers before walking past you, out the door of the room.

you follow after quickly, stumbling over your steps as you rush to take your bag and file while trying to catch up to him. he sure has long strides. "but i was told you had agreed? you had even given your number to be contacted to schedule it," there's no way you're going to believe he had refused from the beginning, not when you were constantly pestered to do it.

"yeah and was i contacted to schedule a meeting? i don't have a lot of time to spare like you," he remarks, yet again hurting your sentiments but you have to stay calm you can't risk losing your job over some misunderstandings left unresolved.

"I apologize for not scheduling the meeting in advance and showing up here. I just thought that-" you huff out in a breath getting tired of walking fast to keep up with him.

coming to an abrupt stop, sunghoon turns around to look at you, his face holding a defeated expression, "thought what? that just because we used to know each other you can show up anytime you wish and get whatever you want? look y/n i don't want to go back to the past, please. i just want this to stay however it is now," the silence after consumes your insides. you can't deny that he's right and you deserve this, you know you do but you still can't help feeling angry and frustrated with his behavior.

"I'll lose my job if i can't get this interview," mumbling out in a speck of hope you look him in the eyes trying to find the care he used to have for you. your face in contrast to the grim feelings inside is a shade of solicit, shamelessly asking him for help.

looking at your desperation sunghoon thinks for a split second if he should do the interview but no, if this is how easily he agrees to do something that benefits you then it would be unfair to the eighteen year old him who was hurt beyond what he could have ever imagined in his life. to the point where he barely left the pool, practicing all day continously for three months till he got swimmer's shoulder, having to rest for a month to heal from the pain. it was during those days of recovery when he decided to forget and focus on himself. no matter how much it hurt his heart everyday when he went back to an empty house. sitting in silence and thinking about how you're doing and still caring for you no matter how much he tried not to.

"I'm getting late for practice, i hope you can understand that i don't want to do this," to you it seemed as if he isn't fazed by it at all, not giving a care even if you end up on the streets. but you can't force him, you don't want to even if do lose your job or end up on the streets. you would never understand exactly how or what he feels but at least you could respect it.

you watch in dejection, his figure disappearing down the corridor as he leaves. you want to regret your decision but you can't, not when this is where it has brought him to, the olympics; his dream. while you, you have already given up on your dream long ago. only a few get to live their dreams, to achieve it, and sunghoon being one of them you don't want to ruin it for him.

for the next weeks all you do it either lie to your editor that sunghoon extended the interview date due to busy schedules or avoid the topic altogether. everyday is a survival game at the office, you basically feel like walking on pins and needles. in all honesty, you don't have any hope left that you'll somehow get to do the interview and keep your job. you practically have already been unemployed in your mind, the reality being just a little delayed at that.

therefore it comes with much surprise when you get called into your editor's office and are told about the interview being re-(re)scheduled to this upcoming friday. you had prepared yourself to get dismissed the moment you step into the room but instead all you get to hear is that sunghoon's coach contacted your editor and fixed a date for the interview. the coach even asked you to come to sunghoon's practices to get a better view of the swimmer's daily life so that you're able to write him out in a pragmatic and irrefutably persevering light showing how driven he is towards his goals and dreams.

for sure you've known how hardworking he is but that was in the past, and so much has changed now including his likeness for you. when you come back to your desk, you take out your phone and counting to ten to calm your nerves, dial sunghoon's number. he still uses the same one. looking at the contact photo displayed on your screen as the caller rings, you feel the sorrow for a moment; remembering how you used to call the same person everyday, talking for hours on end and now you have to think of how to even say a simple hello.

though the coach has already confirmed the details, you want to talk it over with sunghoon not wishing to upset him again however small the matter may be. the way he behaved last time was more than just hurtful it felt like all those years you knew him, it was someone else. but you want to be the bigger person, put all of the enmity aside and focus on what you can do to get things to be better.

the call connects and you wait for him to say something. his voice come out colder than you had expected as he speaks,"who's this?"

"hey, i'm y/n," you try to sound as bright as you possibly can, lips trapped under your teeth in a nervous bite as you play with your nails in the background,"your coach contacted us, confirming that you'll be doing the interview this friday. so umm, i just wanted to let you know before i show up unannounced like last time and disturb you,"

"yeah i know about that," you hear him pause and sigh subtly before he continues,"the sooner the better i guess,"

silence falls over the line as you both contemplate on what to say next. so many things you want to tell him and so many things he wants to ask you but the years of separation have created too big of a gap it seems, unless you acknowledge and try to close it.

no longer able to hold on, sunghoon breaks the icy air, quite literally,"if that's all then, i'll see you on friday. i have to meet my coach in a few minutes,"

"NO! wait! i mean i still have something to ask," okay you just need to piece it together, and say it. it's not like it's your own idea that he'll get mad at you. in response to your sudden burst of urgency sunghoon does wait for you to speak about whatever you have to say.

"your coach suggested i visit your practices to uh observe your daily schedule, so that i can portray you under a better spotlight in the article. so i was wondering if you.. are okay with it? like, me coming to watch you practice and all, it's totally fine if you're not! i'll talk to your coach and see some other alternatives, i understand if you don't want to see my face or my presence-," without a realization you end up rambling, an old habit you wanted to get rid of but since you stopped getting nervous, the rambling didn't surface and you forgot about it. until now.

"tomorrow, 8 am. i'm sure you already have the address." when he stops at that you wonder if he'll chuckle just like how he used to back in high school when you would walk back together after classes and he would laugh adoringly whenever you would have your sudden rambling episodes. but he doesn't, not even a hint of it is heard from the line and so lost in thoughts you fail to comprehend that he just said he expects you to arrive on time.

"i'll be hanging up then," he ends the call before you say anything and you sit there as for the umpteenth time you realize how much time has passed since then.

the next morning you make sure to wake up two hours earlier, taking the 7am bus to the complex. you can't help but imagine scenarios of what could happen. his reactions, his behavior. that's what troubles you the most. he's feels like a kendama now, the ball of his behavior towards you swinging from one side to the other and behaving as if it wasn't just on the other side last time. like he wasn't showing how displeased he was when he saw you at the match venue and how against he was on the idea of you interviewing him just to agree to it like this.

it takes you a while to find the pool, approximately around 20 minutes as you roam about looking through different halls. when you enter the natatorium, the first thing that catches your attention is the emptiness, and it only gets you even more anxious than you already were. you spot sunghoon by the side benches where he's rummaging through his duffle bag, not noticing your figure approaching him. you're about to call for him, hand mid-air as you think whether you should do a wave or a bow and just tap him on his shoulders when you hear the sound of the glass door behind you, the one you came in through open followed by what you assume sunghoon's coach's voice.

"ms. l/n, you're here already!" he gives you a mellow smile in return as you bow in acknowledgement before his demeanor quickly changes to a strict one and he tells sunghoon to warm up fast.

you watch as he speed walks towards another door. his steps coming to a halt just three paces before he reaches it, as if suddenly getting an idea and he turns around to ask you to follow him. it throws you into a fit of confusion, you thought you'd sit here all along and just watch him swim, or at most have to ask him a few spontaneous questions and take down notes on his answers and his routines.

now this is something you did not expect to do when you were asked to visit his practices. standing on one end of the pool, your legs tremble in the slightest, fearing you might slip on the water on the edges and fall in. and then like always embarrass yourself as you turn into a drowned puppy. you hold onto the timer the coach handed you previously as you wait for sunghoon to come back after changing into his swimsuit, having finished his stretches just a minute ago.

ok, just a few hours and then you're done. is what you keep muttering under your breath but what's to say you won't be doing this in any of the future practices. you have to remind yourself to stay focused when you see sunghoon walk out the changing room and towards the pool, your eyes following his every movement. as if it wasn't already a nerve-wracking situation, you had to get caught ogling over him, his eyes locking with yours in a serious and cold expression. there he goes kendamaing again. you don't understand what exactly goes on inside him that his attitude keeps changing 180 degrees time and again.

he gets into his start position and even though you feel like he'll not really give a care you mutter out a small 'fighting!', voice enthusiastic and low enough to only reach him. and just like you predicted he kind of ignores you giving you a side glance and a poker face. his first lap finishes within seconds, making you doubt whether you handled the timer right. you did attend his quite a lot of his practices back in high school but you only ever watched and cheered from the sidelines. never realizing just how good and fast of a swimmer he is. it's charming in a way and you can't help but break into an eye smile.

another two hour goes by with him practicing laps and taking breaks, his coach shouting out encouragements and criticisms while walking along the length of the pool watching sunghoon do his best to increase his speed. it is probably his twelfth lap after which he done for the day, swimming to the end of the pool where you now sat on a chair. he puts his hands on the edge, resting his elbows against the slippery matte tiles and gives you a teeny tiny small smile.

"you actually came early, thought you'd be late as always," you feel surprised in a good way that he remembers you used to be late all the time. you definitely did not think he would remember it, such a minuscule habit. but then he used to be one who valued punctuality so perhaps that could be the reason he remembers your tardiness.

"yeah, aren't you glad i've improved?" you joke to further lighten the stiffness in the atmosphere, a teasing tone laced with underlying realism.

"you could see the practice and my routine so i guess that's good. don't know how that'll help in your writing though," with that he gets out of the pool, water splashing against the interior walls and dripping down the expanse of his sturdy physique.

"i'm going back home today and will be staying there till friday so, no more practice visits till then," taking the timer from your hands, he eyes the number displayed. you swear you see a flash of disappointment pass by just as fast it comes and it pains you to notice how dissatisfied he seems to be with his current performance and level. to you he already looks staggeringly remarkable so for him to feel like he's not good enough still, makes you think that he's being under-appreciated. and you take note to do something about it on the interview day. if you can't mend your relationship you have with him now at least you can help him feel more confident. you know he can do it.

clutching the timer in his grip, he runs a hand through his wet locks,"i expect you'll be early for the interview as well," cocking one of his brows he actually awaits your respond.

"i'll try," you tilt you head in a soft smile wondering what changed his mood. and how his poker face turned so gentle.

you sit outside the changing room, counting sheeps for time to pass by as you wait for sunghoon to finish his post-practice shower and change of clothes. you hesitate for a moment when the door opens and sunghoon walks out, now dressed in black joggers and a mustard yellow polyster jacket. he stares at your form sitting on the bench, standing still after closing the door and adjusting his duffle bag incase you have something to say. which you have, you just feel shy to say it, it's been years since you've said something like this to him, you're way not like how used to you used to be with it.

you end up staring at each other for a half a minute before sunghoon thinks there's nothing and breaks the eye contact to leave. he's a few steps away when you finally speak out.

"sunghoon!" he stops to face you, hands shoved in his pant pockets.

"you did good today," pausing for a second, you walk up to him. taking out the vanilla milk you bought on you way here,"actually you were amazing. i know you can do it, don't be disheartened," you grab his arm and pull it out of his pocket, then bringimg up his hand, place the small carton in his palm with a gleam of delight.

you give him a thumbs up and then dash out the natatorium in a hurry, face hot with diffidence. and sunghoon's glad you do because the silly and happy smile he breaks into is almost embarrassing for him. he did not expect you to notice his disappointment, and definitely not for you to give him some words of encouragement.

his fingers trace the note you stuck on the front, your same cute handwriting spelling out a 'i believe in you!!' making his cheeks burn and butterflies flutter in his stomach. you certainly made his day so much better. yet there's this feeling of bitter resentment somewhere creeping up his spine. he failed to keep up his guard today and gave in to your sweetness, he can't keep doing it, he can't just forget everything and move on so easily; with just a packet of vanilla milk and post-it note.

the days sunghoon spends back in his home, in the comfort of a break amongst his close family his mind is at a constant war. he does not want to treat you harsh but neither does he want to be taken so lightly that you could come and go so effortlessly. like he's a toy you play with whenever you wish and as soon as you get bored throw it away in some corner only to get it back when you get tired of the new ones.

so he decides to be professional like you had tried to be in the beginning, no harshness, no softening. like the physics nerd you, used to say back in high school: at the center of the equilibrium.

but it gets hard to maintain his composure and remain poise when you do things like these. when you keep reminding him of the good times.

it's friday before he knows it, sunghoon's mind once again gets into a battle of thoughts as he sits on the couch across you. and you once again place a carton of vanilla milk on the table in between you both giving him a smile which does not help at all. last time it was a blue post-it note, on which he later found written that you used a blue one because blue reminds you of him and this time it's a flower polaroid stuck on the front.

he remembers how from the very first day you started dating in high school you would give him polaroids you took of random flowers. one every single day. you used to say that if flowers were immortal then you would have given him actual ones but flowers do die, they wilt and on top of that you never liked plucking them so instead you opted to give him polaroids of them. in those, the flowers would live to stay forever. back then sunghoon found it silly as much as he appreciated and loved it. now he understands their true value, the pictures stored in an album he looks at, at least once a week. reliving those happy moments of joy he felt whenever you handed him the polaroid of the day, along with a kiss on his cheek.

"so, you still take them?" he asks grabbing onto the carton of milk and playing with the ends of the polaroid stuck on it.

"no, but i wanted to cheer you up. you know a token of support and encouragement," you beam in hopes of adding some more sugar to your attempt of a morale-boosting coupon.

you don't know what comes over you that you reveal the piece of unwanted information but you do, and you instantly regret it,"i still took them for a while till i got over you,"

that was unnecessary by all means and sunghoon did not want to know that at all, especially the got over you part was absolutely lethal.

"lies," he mutters under his breath, the words so much in a whisper that you're unable to decipher it properly. sunghoon did not want to believe that he waited all these years just to hear you say you got over him. of course he had considered the possibility of you moving over him and dating again but to hear you actually say it, kind of angers him. it reminds him of how you left him hanging and now you're talking as if he was the one who did that.

"what?"

it's a lie, tell me you're still not over me is what he wants to say but what comes out instead is,"nothing just you're too good at making excuses," his feelings weigh heavy on the harsh side and you notice his tone and expression slipping down that side of the equilibrium.

his rudeness pushes your own emotions to go red with feelings of a painful memory bubbling underneath,"excuse me what?"

"don't tell me you didn't do that for other guys," he grits his teeth, staring into your eyes in sharpness. he wonders, too, if any other man had gotten close to you, mayhaps closer. but that’s a sting of emotions he doesn’t want to dwell on.

"no i didn't," you mumble out.

"yeah and i believe you," scoffing he turns to look out the window, his inner self feeling a tiny sense of relief that you didn't yet still having doubts. how could you not do it for anyone else, if it was so easy for you to drop him then why imply that he was someone special.

"i don't get it sunghoon, why do you have to go changing sides all the time, if you hate me, just hate me like you do right now you don't need to get my hopes up that we can be like how we used to be-" you talk back, the idea of an interview drowning in the back of your mind.

"i never really tried to do that. you just keeping breaking my resolve. you keep trying to break the walls you made me built and it's pathetic because it breaks a little everytime. it makes me feel miserable and piteous that i'm perhaps slowly giving in to the very girl who abandoned me like a pet she no longer wants," in all honesty sunghoon does not know where all this courage is coming from, how he's spilling out his emotions he locked up inside so suddenly. but he really just wants to get this off his chest, he's been holding it in for so long.

it hits so hard, a pang in your heart, and you almost feel your organ physically crack at his words,"it wasn't my intention, i never wanted to make you feel that way, i was just-" times when you felt the regret taking over, you convinced yourself that you did what felt right then. both the ways would have had consequences but the ones for where you stayed scared you more.

to find out that it did more harm to him than good pains you. all you ever wanted was for him to soar as high as he can and as less painfully as possible. but instead of limiting his worries you just ended up piling on his list of insecurities and trauma.

"just what? taking my decisions for me? you know what, you should've never showed up at all, disappeared just like you did that night! it angers me to see your face, to breathe in the same air as you," sunghoon holds in the angry tears that start glistening against the white of his eyes.

"i- you've changed so much," all these years you knew he would come to harbour negative feelings towards you, towards you choices, your actions. yet now when you have to face it, all of your will power crumbles. you're angry, at him, at the situation and even more at yourself, you might even start loathing yourself in seconds. you absolutely hate yourself for whatever you are saying right now. why can't you be selfless without being selfish. why can't you just be the villain and stop fighting your inner angel that tells you, you did what you thought would be the better for you both. because this isn't better, this is no good. him hurting because of your immature choices is not better.

"everything is bound to change, y/n. if you are so scared of changes, maybe you should've thought before you dumped me over text," it certainly had been a huge change on his end, no you, no light in his dark world. the hard walls he built and put up, the control he developed over his emotions, the softness he had in him vanishing along with you so that he doesn't have to experience that kind of hurt again. and he hates to admit that even after all this he still finds himself considering to break a crack of a hole to let you in again.

"i sent you dozens of voice-mails because you weren't picking up my calls, texts that are still there on my phone.i literally begged you, i was ready to do long distance even take a break if you wanted. but you didn't even send a single reply," reliving a memory is one thing and watching and walking through it is other. sunghoon has this picture motion tape in his mind, he could go through. at times he has wide awake, like an outsider walked around and watched what happened that night like a movie, like a 360° video. he has watched himself wander around your neighborhood searching for you after you denied any other access. he has watched himself get hit by a car and roll on the road in a shoulder pain he still feels at times. he has watched himself cry and feel the desperation physically when he failed to find even a glimpse of you. all of it he has watched with his eyes open. so how? just how can he so easily forget it, move on and try to understand you, he doesn't want to. it feels wrong, like an insult to the pain he felt that night.

"it felt just the same as when my mom left me," if sunghoon were to describe that pain he felt then it would like you stomped on his living, beating heart. he knows, back then he knew still, all too well why you broke up with him. his dad had told him even though you had asked him not to. it gets him really how he trusted you with his vulnerablilities and you treated him like he couldn't figure things out, you didn't even spare him the decency to decide what to do. the relationship was just as much his, as yours yet you didn't ask him even once and went on to leave him.

in all truthfulness, even when you walked out the door of his life that summer night, at the zenith of his solace: the time when he thought things are finally going to stay. he still found himself holding onto you willfully in longing despair and dire hope. onto your lingering presence, the ghost of you in his human world. you were his safety net, his guiding light of a lighthouse, his motivation, his love. it was way before you left that he had realized that it was love. it wasn't any high school fling relationship he would grow to forget or get embarrassed about in the future. you were, are what he expected his first partner would be.

but it seemed to him your feelings and thoughts differed, a lot more than he could have imagined.

he never thought that someday he'll beg for you to not be that, to become just a small part of his past. just the thought of you coming back now sends him into a dilemma. a mixture of heartbreak and returning, growing love that has him scared before anything. he's scared of getting hurt again, of letting his walls down only for them to come out stronger after you possibly leave him again.

"i'm sorry," that's all you could say. you know no words could take away what's already happened and no apologies could fix it. no amount of anything can undo the choices you made. you want to give him an explanation, a closure even if he needs it but all you understand and can take in now is that he hates your guts and would, you rather leave again.

he says it but he doesn't want that, sunghoon doesn't want you to leave him again, he doesn't want you to ever go out of his sight ever again and he wishes you could figure it out because under all these thick layers of built up acrimony, grudge and feelings of betrayal, he can hear the sound of his own voice asking you to stay.

getting up from his seat in an abrupt snap, sunghoon walks out the café without another word, no longer having the strength to hold in his tears. he not going to cry in front of you, he had just spilled his inner most thoughts, thoughts concerning you; he isn't going to show you just how much it effects him even though he knows you've probably seen it all already: just how much power, impact you have over him.

you sit there for a while, staring into the nothingness of the silence prevailing your mind. so much happened yet the moment he left, your subconscious went empty, devoid of any emotions. tears fall down the skin of your cheeks and your nose gets clogged but all you feel is a quiet voice telling you, you failed. you don't hear it, you feel it in your veins, a kind of mockery. so much for trying to be the bigger person, you were so stupid, an idiot.

and that seems to have not changed. you should've stopped him. you should've told him your side of the story. not left him to keep sinking in that swamp, that quicksand of darkness you saved him from and then pushed him back into.

for the next two weeks that you go to his practices, you both behave as if the interview is done. both of you stay professional, talking only when needed. a few times you try to talk out of the work box but sunghoon shuts down your advances in subtle ignorance. you watch his swimming practices, and his laps around the track field after. handing him a water bottle and towel when he's finished which he takes without any glances, acknowledgements or words exchanged.

you sit on one of the big steps around the field and count down days till you can approach him to end all this messy falling out once and for all, doesn't matter where it leads your relationship to. you can't see him this way anymore, he deserves to know the truth, that he was always enough; the problem was miscommunication.

so you call him before you visit the complex today, because there's no way you could do this face to face, asking him to you give you a chance. you'd in all probability get into another argument.

surprisingly he picks up, but there's no response from his side.

"i, i didn't contact you because of the interview," you take in a deep breath and let it out. the words you have feared since the moment you saw him in that poster of a match six years ago.

"i missed you," you hear him let out a laugh at that and though it offends and hurts you, you are ready to hear whatever asperse comments he has to offer.

"that's funny, aren't you tired of making up excuses to get favors," its stings something in you and you get a flashback of the incident where you were falsely accused of lying and making up excuses, sunghoon being one of the only ones who stood by your side. and now the same person who had your back at all times is showing you how it feels to have your back turned on.

pushing the pounding of your heart out of your focus you try to remind yourself that he's just trying to hurt you.

"i'm sorry to disturb you, i just wanted to talk to you after your swimming practice. i can't come today, i have an article due soon but it's really important so uh, i was gonna stop by before you start your track field laps if you're down to talk." you ask without a break afraid you'll shutter if you take a moment to think,"i promise it'll be quick," you add when the line falls silent.

"okay," and you hear the sound of the call being ended. kind of like the repeating vibrations, reverberating against your ear drums. you swear to give it your all to fix what can be fixed.

occupying the same spot you always sit at, you watch sunghoon's figure running around the field. it's been half an hour since you arrived, holding tightly onto every ounce of courage you have. he had already been warming up for the extra jogs when you entered the field, looking all ready to start his evening workout so you ended up going over to wait till he comes to you himself.

but now as you see him actively going around the track, the hope you had harbored in you with such difficulty slowly seems to dissipate. maybe he's playing you like he thought you did with him. maybe he doesn't really want you anymore. maybe all those priorities in his list changed, and you dropped from the second position you held on it to nothing but just a side work. you're here to tell him your side of the story, to reveal all those fears and regrets. those sleepless nights where you wondered if what you did was right, sometimes agreeing and sometimes resenting the you from that night. but the point is does sunghoon even want an explanation? does he even want to fix the creases?

maybe he doesn't. maybe you should just leave today, your mind's already got messed up.

just as you fix your clothes and stand up to leave, sunghoon's running comes to a halt, his steps slowing down as he rather jogs to the sidelines towards you.

he stops in front of you, a look of perplexity in his eyes. he's silently questioning you about what you're doing, his rapid breath intakes adding to his emotion of confusion.

"you were taking long so i thought i'd talk to you some other day," you smile up at him, not letting the thoughts from earlier and cloud your behavior towards him.

"this was my last lap, you know it. you always count," you do, this was perhaps the first time you lost count halfway. you got too much into thinking negative that you slipped out of the present.

"you said it was important, i wanted to finish everything and be done for the day so we could talk properly unlike last time," his hand reaches out to grab yours with all intention of just ditching the last lap and hear whatever you wanted to say until something clicks at the back of his mind. the disappointment and anger of the past speaking to his subconscious, as his hands stops mid-air, facing falling visibly as he realizes just how much he's been waiting.

"it was ten years for me, y/n," the painful revelating smile that graces his lips is as hurtful as the time when he first talked about his mother. you remember it was the evening before an important match when he showed up at your door all of sudden saying he needed you. you took him to the park in your neighborhood and as you both sat on two of the slides after playing around a bit, he told you about how his mother left him during one of his regular swimming classes because he wouldn't learn how to swim even after a month of taking those lessons. she left and never came back after that, even his father didn't know anything. maybe she just wanted to leave him from the very beginning, at least that's what sunghoon felt.

from that day, sunghoon made it his goal to be good at swimming. at first he held onto the belief that if he masters swimming his mother would come back. but as he grew up and the blood of reality creeped up into his veins of hope he realized that's never going to happen. his mother won't return no matter how good he is. yet somewhere the child in him couldn't accept that fact.

with years passing by sunghoon found himself getting attached to swimming, it was the only thing he was good at and the only thing that gave him validation that if, if ever his mother were to return swimming would be the sole thing that might make him shine in her eyes.

"and you couldn't even wait for me for an hour. it makes me feel like a fool honestly," until you. you gave him hope that what he thinks is wrong, it's just his inner self deceiving him, trying to hurt him because that's what he always believed.

he looks at you in a longing stare, the silence engulfing the hole in his heart. you can't help but feel the hammering in your heart that tells you to go for it. this is the biggest sign for you to know that he does want it.

but before you can say something sunghoon turns around and walks away to continue his lap ignoring the shouts of his name. quickly putting aside your bag on the step, you rush to follow him. running two meters behind him you struggle to keep up your pace, let alone reach him. this probably looks stupid but all you care about now is telling him everything, every single detail.

"sunghoon, i-" okay, here goes everything.

"i knew you would reject the offer of the scholarship because of everything that you had established here. i could see it in your eyes how you were so afraid of the change. but it was your only chance sunghoon, if you hadn't taken that up you would have had to give up on swimming and I couldn't see you doing that. it was the first thought i had. that you'd stay even if that meant giving up on the only thing you took pride in. you were the kind of person who liked things to stay stagnant, a little movement scared you with the possibility to being left with nothing. and you'd rater choose no swimming, no dreams over nothing,"

you wait for him to say something incase he wants you to stop or ask you anything but he doesn't. he continues running ahead trying his best to ignore the harsh truth coming from you.

"no matter how much you told me that it was just because of your mom, i knew somewhere along the line you had come to love swimming as a dream," back in high school sunghoon remembers how he talked to you about swimming all the time, the practices, the praises he got, the freedom he felt in the water, how it took away his insecurities. he always felt like you shared it with him, his water world and so it was so much easier for him to talk to you about it than his father. but you never complained no matter how many of your days were spent in just focusing on his swimming you never expressed any kind of displeasure. it was like you loved him as a first even if you were his second.

everyone around saw you both as a perfect couple but only you both knew just how much of a big role his swimming occupied in your relationship. and sunghoon knows that even with all of this bitterness and hatred that he has shown you over the past few weeks, you wouldn't try to ruin or take away his dream. you might have decided on your own in the past but that doesn't mean you didn't consider him. if anything maybe all you did consider was just him.

"i didn't mean to ignore you that night. i had told you how my phone was acting weird the entire week and it broke down right after i sent you those texts. it took a week for it to get fixed and all my contacts were lost, the system was reset after that. i never knew about your texts or your voice mails. i thought you didn't want anything to do with me. if i had known i would have tried my best to reach out to you," it was like time was really working against you that night, everything was so not going as you had planned. just like how things are going on now, maybe all the good phases of your possible relationship with sunghoon were over in high school.

"why did you have to break up then? you could've just convinced me to accept the scholarship," finally in the past fifteen minutes you hear sunghoon say something. though he doesn't stop it gives you a little relief that he believes you.

"my family was going to move. i didn't know how long i would be gone, and i couldn't figure out how to tell you about it. the scholarship came at the right time, either way we would have to do long distance but i didn't want to hold you back with the relationship. only twice a week we barely did anything except your practices throughout our entire relationship. and i was never less happy with that, i enjoyed sharing your joy. for us to contact each other while you were on the scholarship practicing only what you wanted, it would take away your time, perhaps become a distraction and i didn't want to do that,"

getting reminded of those times and feelings you lose your sense of balance, ending up twisting your ankle and falling to the ground in an abrupt thud. sunghoon stops at the sound, turning around instantly to check on you. finding you on the floor hands clutching onto your ankle in subtle hisses pulls on the strings of his heart in a way he refuses to admit. because if not stronger it's just same as when you used to get hurt back in high school.

he rushes to you help you up,"why do you have to still be clumsy?" he sighs exasperatedly, forehead creased in worry as he scans yours ankle.

"are you hurt anywhere else?"grabbing your hands he checks throughly to see if there's any other scratch or wound. when he's satisfied there's none, he bends down for you to climb on his back. and he carries you across to the steps where you kept your bag, you mumble out in a small voice,"all i wanted was for you to live your dream, to get the benefits of what you've worked so hard for almost your entire life,"

he sits you down on the concrete surface and crouches down to give your ankle a gentle massage.

"and sunghoon," this is perhaps one of you darkest secrets, something you yourself hated to acknowledge.

"hmm?"

you carefully watch the movement of his fingers, relishing the caring touch on your skin. for the first time in what feels like forever, the heaviness in your heart seems to feel lighter. in ten years this moment is probably the most barrenly pleasant; you're neither happy nor sad, just okay. and honestly that's a lot considering what you're about to say,"i was afraid. swimmimg, water, the blue defined you and i was scared you'd come to resent me if i did become a distraction. i felt like i was not enough so it would be okay if i'm gone. i was trying to be selfless but i guess i was still selfish, i cared more about my fears than the hurt you'd feel. eversince i met you, you had, have always been my world but,"

swimming has been his. and sunghoon never realized it until now.

did sunghoon ever ask himself why you believed it was worth it? why leaving him and lying about it was the better option for you? no he did not. because people often tend to focus on just their own emotions and memories, it's human nature.

you both did that. and there's no excuse. all you can do now is move on, be it together or separately.

fiddling with the hem of your shirt you look ahead in a sad pout,"i'm sorry, i decided to end things on my own without any explanation and over text. i was immature and ignorant to do that. i know no amount of apologies can fix the past but i genuinely do regret hurting you in all ways that i have,"

"i apologize as well. i never tried to see things from your perspective. it was never my intention to make you feel second to swimming," his voice is as soft as ever, the softest you've heard since the night near the convenience store.

he moves his head previously facing the ground, focusing on your ankle, to look up, directly into your eyes,"because you really weren't. you are right, i was- no i still am afraid of changes. swimming had been my everything for so long that when you came along and things started flipping, i was afraid to accept it myself that my world was changing. and i failed to show you in time that it was you,"

"all of my harsh yoyo behaviors- i know you thought that," your silent laugh makes him grin in response. finally it feels like the wall in between is not as hard anymore.

"those rude words, i'm sincerely sorry for it all," he purses his lips feeling guilty for the times he treated you bad.

"it's okay, sunghoon. you were hurt and i deserved it," you actually thought that, it was mayhaps the only thing that made you accept his actions and remarks. because you really thought you deserved it.

"no, you didn't. let's not think that way," he shifts to take your hands in his, and rubs his thumb over your knuckles, his brown orbs still holding the eye contact,"let's start new, and slow. no expectations and no blaming, just go wherever things take us,"

"okay, let's do that." and his face breaks into that eye smile you remember he gave you when you met him for the very first time during your sophomore year in high school; at that bus stop near the natatorium when you, your friend and other classmates went to pick up their friend who had recently transferred to your school. that friend being your park sunghoon, the lovely shy yet cold boy who wore yellow and stood tall among his friends. time flied so fast. you never thought you'd end up dating him neither that you'd be hung up on him even after ten years of being apart.

as he had promised later that day through a call where he was no longer the quiet, curt one you smoothly got over with the interview the following week. and unlike before he answered all the questions matching your enthusiasm trying to give as much details as he could.

within two from your making up with each other you got done with writing your article and it's publishing; getting positive feedback from your editor and the promise of a soon to come promotion. now there is no need left for you to visit his practices or show up with little things that encourage him but you're doing it. though you decided to take things slow, you're trying to give a chance to whatever that is going on between you two at the moment.

"so what have you brought for me today?"sunghoon asks swimming to the edge as he watches you place your bag on the bench, just beside his one. and internally he's squealing like a kid at that.

"i had bought some macarons but i forgot them on my desk," your pout, silently scolding yourself for forgetting such an important thing.

"well then there should be some kind of a compensation, right?" the sheepish grin on his face assures you that he already has something he wants you to do so to make the boy happy you agree in a nod,"right, what do you want me to do?"

"come here, help me out," he gestures you to come closer and pull him out of the pool.

"you know you're way too heavy fo- AH!" as soon as you reach the edge and crouch down to reach his arm, his fingers grab your wrist in an instant and he's pulling you in the water.

before you can think you will drown sunghoon's emerging from underneath your figure and hauling you up with his arms hooked around your lower thighs as he holds your weight against him,"hey! you know i don't know how to swim!" you whine, slapping his shoulder as you rub away the water from your eyes

"well being a professional swimmer's girlfriend i thought you'd know it," he jokes, a light hearted chuckle leaving him seconds before realizing exactly what he had said.

you stare at him wide-eyed, stunned with his choice of words. it falls silent for a moment as you both think of what you should say. sunghoon particularly wonders if he should ask you to be with him again. but then wounds have not yet healed enough to get into a relationship already, even if it's you.

"sorry i, i got carried away," he mumbles apologetically.

and then just on time his phone rings, the sound of the ring tone piercing through the silence that was held between you two.

"can you check that for me?" sunghoon asks as he takes you to the edge and seats you there so get out.

"sure!" by the time you rummage out his phone to check the caller ID, the calls already cut but you definitely see the notification on his default iPhone lockscreen.

there it shows the message you had sent him half an hour ago saying you'll be there soon. the fact that he still has you saved as how people knew you when you both were dating surprises you. the words 'ddunghoonie's baby angel' bringing back a lot of memories and indescribable joy.

"who is it?" his voice startles you and you quickly check to see if it shows on the lockscreen.

"don't know it's showing an unknown number," you reply trying to mask the happiness you are feeling from the piece of information you just found out.

"oh then leave it, i'll check later,"

walking back to the pool and you sit down on the edge again, legs inside the water as sunghoon stands on your right. you're staring at his arms when you spot something familiar,"you got a tattoo?" asking, you point at the little flower near his wrist.

"it's just pen," he smiles in a shake of his head.

"but that's what i used to draw on paper edges of notebooks," you wonder, racking your brain to see if you're thinking it all wrong or it's actually that same drawing.

"yeah, i just missed you and needed some motivation so," sunghoon mutters under his breath, his demeanor shifting to a shy one. did he really just admit that? he can't believe he did, where did the resentment forcing him to push back all of these emotions go to?

"don't tell me you didn't date after me," you gape in amusement not ready to believe he didn't at least get the chance to.

"i did twice. but no one gave me flower polaroids like you," he reasons, once again a silly grin adorning his lips. but honestly he did miss all of the things from your relationship. always looking for, yearning for it while whoever he was with. he might not have realized it but that was the reason he never felt any sort of sparks or butterflies, because to him it always felt like he was somehow cheating on you.

"now enough of my love life, let's get you to learn how to swim," without an ounce of hesitation he grabs your waist and brings you in the water, letting you stand properly before flicking your forehead,"i can't be your prince philip everywhere," he teases.

the mundanity of the situation gets to you both really. your ex boyfriend being your life jacket, carrying you around the pool while you pretend to be the one swimming because he's scared you'll drown if he lets you be.

"i'll never learn like this!" you complain in giggles making sunghoon laugh as you try to flap your arms and legs.

and in these last few weeks there has had been moments like these when he wanted to just pull you close and kiss you like the old times. over the long lonely years no matter how hard sunghoon had tried to forget you, to erase the painful memories of you from his mind, it had been impossibly impossible. you always find a way into his life.

but one doesn’t get to repair a broken heart, or get over a love just like this. all sunghoon hopes for is whatever happens doesn't hurt you both anymore. and if happy ever after really does exist then maybe sunghoon wishes for that too.

taglist. @sunflower-riki @megdoienalds @abdiitcryy @rae-blogging @blaqpinksthetic @allyg-onz @strwberrydinosaur @ryujinae @penny-quinn @thaliee @youreverydayzebra @jayujus @love13tter @baekhyunstruly @gtfovi @heecyon @yourstruely @milkycloudtyg @icywhatim @studioreader @junhuiste @jannine00742 @heejojo @shawkneecaps @neptuniees @heesyi @woniebae @liliansun @heelariously @iamgodthankyou @ughgys

[s-9in]

( dim-sun main )

INFO zu, 02 liner, she/her, virgo, (WRITING BLOG), ur very personal and a full-time ranter

fics reblogs & recs only.

[s-9in]

i am no other than a person that is as molded by everything in this one certain fic, the characters, the events and the multiverses of it after reading this. there are so many open discussions about why this might be one of the best thing i’ve read so far this year. from the beginning, to the middle heart-wrenched part of my questioned self ‘don’t tell me this is a multiverses and that we’ve separate stories of this oc and beomgyu together’ and to the end of this well-written fic.

[ SPOILER ALERT ! ] y/n’s storyline devastated me and the rest of her nightmares being ‘slaved’ and tortured enough that make herself trapped in her own home, having her to face the harsh from the only closest at least related people after the death of her parents. where then lead to this cute encounter with beomgyu, a stranger that told her how free he felt when he was around her, and how she felt the same. only to find out that she’d been living in this repeated cycle of notion wherein she’ll eventually become to none other than the folklore stories of cinderella. how she and the horrible treatments from her stepmother and her older stepsisters, and beomgyu, and everything she done with or without the presence of beomgyu were the same things, same remaining plots for others y/n but in different universe. how beomgyu said ‘like i’ve met you before in some past lifetime’. it captured that beomgyu must’ve felt it too. that took y/n in realisation, and chose, bare her own decision to end the suffocating cycle and then decided to pick the path for the sakes of each of her clones. when she faced beomgyu once again, opened his mask, and kissed him, i’d goosebumps. then the others did the same rather than baffled around to go back home and run to distant themselves away. i recalled how i pictured it with the fireworks of finally being free. please bring me back to the first time i read this!!

the introduction always gets me,, because you did a great job making me shivered after the first words of the fic were back to remind us (readers) that we are indeed the ashfool. though it might not directly be us as ashfool but it shook me to core how well connected you made your story. and as beomgyu being her charming partner just make it reach my best perfect explanation for a beautiful tragedic fairytale.

i’ll always love the idea of multiverses, and i even more adore how well blended the romance go with your writings elements! you’re so incredibly talented, it saddened me to think this haven’t reach personal audience like an obsessive ‘good writers’ fans/person as me lmao. i am BEYOND grateful to stumble upon this greatest fic, but for sure i want to hear and read more from you as now this or your blog has my main attention to personal favourite writers! how did you manage to type all of these and do nothing but deliver such a masterpiece!! thank you for this you’re really talented <3

cast: beomgyu ✗ fem.reader (ft. billlie’s haram and stayc’s sieun)

synopsis: a girl, a folktale, a boy, and a shifting reality

genre: psychological horror, folktale retelling, thriller, slow burn, drama, historical au, nobility au, regency au, medieval au, rich kid au, fantasy au, angst, fluff, a bit comedic in some parts

based on: folk tale cinderella with inspirations from video game omori (2020) and movie everything everywhere all at once (2022)

word count: 18748 (18.7k)

warning(s): unreality! (be very careful!!), child negligence, anxiety-inducing, mental breakdown, discrimination, suffocation (warning for claustrophobics !) implicit violence (no detail), a bit of suicidal tendency, a tiny bit suggestive, will be very meta in some parts, fast pace flow that might give you whiplash, unique stylistic choices (ever-changing typeface fonts and colors), slow first act that i shred into pieces as fast as lightning :] (if i forgot some, let me know!)

message from the moon: remember that this story is fiction also do be careful and read the warnings at the top + (y/f/n) = your full name. i swear i didn’t intend for this one-shot to be this long but i guess it is necessary since i wanna pull out the rug under y’all :D this one-shot is a part of the happily never after collab hosted by @soobisms and @svhnflwr so do check the other works too!! thank you so much for letting me participate in this spooky collab !!

an atmospheric playlist!!

a small local cinema stood in between a hardware store and a pet shop. signs hanging outside with lights fluttering in and out of liveliness because of broken wires beneath them.

from the outside of the glass doors, you’re visible. leaning against a counter you stood behind, an open book of pride and prejudice by jane austen in your hand rested on top of it. you wore a white shirt tucked behind a dark blue apron. the smell of popcorn cooking in the popcorn machine behind you fills the room. the theatre's door was open, but no one came in or out. no other person besides you in the small building. a small family business your father made before passing away, leaving you with your stepmother and stepsisters who don’t understand your father’s aim in creating an independent cinema. always striving to look the best while running the family’s savings out and making your household more and more in debt because of their credit cards and their low credit scores.

your father was a filmmaker, an indie filmmaker who hasn’t reached his stardom when the grim ripper took him away too young. well, it took both of your parents too young.

you were born into a family of people thinking outside of the box, your parents both practice art in their different ways, your father is the art of the visual while your mother is the art of the numbers which includes being the financing hold of the cinema you stood in today. they met during their college years and their love of stories persists to you. you always thought it’s hereditary, your love of stories, cause nurture isn’t enough to produce such love. that love holds onto you as you remembered reading to your mother your first ever story you made for a story competition for school at her deathbed when you were 8 years old. how she was always the one that tells you a story before sleeping. but because of the condition, you’ve grown up to replace her role while she becomes yours. you go back to your room in the empty house and you leave her to sleep. father is still at the cinema serving his collection of indie and old films that night, not being by her side on their shared bed. she didn’t wake up in the morning.

you’re a tough girl who has the resilience of your mother, ready to grow up without one. but your father disagrees and marries his then-middle school lover who has two daughters older than you but around the same age. he still took the cinema job seriously, and still has employees working under him while he travels away to film festivals or shoots at exotic places as his job as a filmmaker. the days when he’s gone, your stepmother and stepsisters treat you in whatever they want to treat you.

one day, father traveled to a mountainous place with waterfalls and valleys around it near the end of your middle school era. father brushes the skin below your eyes before he goes, reminiscing about how the love of his life also has dark circles resembling yours because of working too hard. he promised to bring back home footage of them and the unedited movie to you. but, he didn’t come back. all the cast and crew of the movie, along with the passengers on the airplane, got swept by the wave in the ocean, never to be found.

the will come out and all of them settled that as your stepmother is his wife, she will inherit the house and his savings. but what the lawyer gave tween you was a certificate of the cinema your biological parents built, your name written on it as the inheritor. you felt sorry that you have to let the employees know your father passed away and have to let them go for financial reasons, but the staff treats you with kindness, and almost familial love as if you are their own younger sibling who also loves cinema and untold stories as they do. your stepmother and stepsisters cannot touch nor change the cinema because they have to come to you first. you won’t let it go as it’s the only piece of your parents’ legacy in the world other than yourself.

other than taking care of a small local cinema in a one-man show, your love of stories got you to study literature. books and other forms of media are escapism for you and your parents. they showed you spielberg‘s movies like e.t. since young to grow your imagination of having an extraterrestrial friend or the sound of music when you first see julie andrews on the screen, singing in the meadow. your parents give you children’s books since you were young and you remember by the time you’re in high school, home life was a nightmare that the school library becomes your second home, going home late after class to have more time to escape rather than facing the reality of your stepmother and young adult stepsisters—not like they care you were home or not. you use the money you got from the percentage of inheritance from your father and use it to pay for your early years’ tuition for university studying literature. and you continue your parents’ dream of introducing cinema to people, sharing stories more down-to-earth than those blockbusters in the other theaters.

holding your classic novel close to your chest, you sit in your class today in your oversized, dull-looking outfit. other students around you panic as they pull out their book review from a task given by your lecturer last week while you already gave yours two days ago. you lean back in your seat as the lecturer lectures about this week’s topic, folk tales.

“we know folk tale as a story so simple that it is interpreted as fairytales for children. however, folk tale is more than that.” the lecturer speaks at the front, and the lights from the projector above them shine down on the screen behind them who is walking whilst talking.

“folk tale is a tale of folklore. folklore is an explicit way to show one’s culture and share it with other people. think of it as the greek tragedies we have learned about before, where they teach us about aspects of life and nature through the challenges faced by gods and men. folklore is like that but purely made by humans to show one’s expression and one’s belief. it is shown through proverbs, legends, and what we are learning today: folk tales.”

you’ve known folk tales before from the children’s books you’ve read that might be too harsh to tell children. maybe because you read the brothers grimm version, but you understand they make it scarier as a cautionary tale for the kids in their time since danger and risks are everywhere than today where technology can help prevent them. so when your lecturer told the class to pick one folktale to make a review of, your mind goes blank.

yet, deep down, you felt a certain story you want to choose. you have to write them down for the lecturer before anyone does.

you fast-walk to the lecturer who sits at the desk in front, a paper with written names of your classmates and the tale they picked beside it. you skim down the list, letting out a sigh of relief before you wrote the name of the folk tale.

cinderella.

closing the front doors of the small cinema, you meet the night sky of the town. you walk towards the bus stop, skyscrapers shining a few blocks down. your parents didn’t predict this but the cinema now rests near the area of wealthy people, where conglomerate lives and works at. the capitalist nature of them stranded the local business that is made by passionate people, in favor of something they are used to that costs much more than what you have. your eyes glance towards the passing apartment building you know children of conglomerates live to separate from their parents since it’s near the university you go to, while the bus you are in goes past it and towards the outskirts where the middle-low income lives.

after you put down your shoes outside the front door, you step inside your well-looking house with expensive pieces of furniture and the newest, trending tech devices. well, you went past it to climb to the second floor and to the end of the hallway where a doorknob exists if you look closely enough. the door's color camouflages with the surrounding wall. a creak coming from the door being open, you climb up and arrive at the rooftop of the house, a little nook in the attic for a hermit like you.

you set down your bag as you grab your sleeping clothes before going back down to the bathroom at the back of the house which you’re allowed to use to clean and freshen yourself, hoping none of your sisters nor your mother wakes up right now. the cold water creates chills on your skin as it’s nearly an hour until midnight when you went home, you moved past the dirty kitchen with dirty dishes beside the sink, knowing the other people living in this house know you and your willingness to clean their mess—because you learned the hard way when you said no, the distinct sting forming on your cheek.

climbing back up to your attic, you open the laptop you own since the start of high school. you search for cinderella on wikipedia when you scroll to see different versions of them that existed in this world. from french to brothers grimm, to rodgers and hammerstein and disney. as you read the descriptions of them, they all told the same story.

specks of dust cover the corners of the attic as the candle you lit up flatters from the melting wax, the wick cannot hold more before you blow the flame away, a bit of the dust flung from your gush. the moon staring at you from outside of the window as you rest on the mattress on the floor, your eyes droop as your mind can only think one thing.

a girl with an awful family goes to a ball and meets a man. she left something behind so he could find her. all of them end the same, no matter light or dark, to earn a happily ever after.

-

something pecks the skin of your arm.

humming a low note, your eyelids open to a silhouette in front of you. a small creature right beside you.

you heard the chirping become more prominent as the silhouette fills up with color.

a blue bird tilts its head as it looks at you.

“oh, good morning,” you mumble before hearing more chirps around. that’s when you sit up on your bed and look to see the small critters you considered your friends.

“good morning to all of you.” the small critters climb up to your sheets and give a small hug to your covered calves, the birds leaning their feathered head to you while the rats’ small limbs give a ticklish sense that wakes you up. you view outside your small tower to find the sun has risen above the horizon before the muted sound of a bell ringing echoes down the stairs.

your body reacts as you prepare yourself for the day, telling the critters to help you in putting the ingredients for today’s breakfast in the kitchen. in contrast, you prepare yourself, changing from a sleeping gown to one of the abundance of white dresses you own for the outfits you wear every day. feet step down from the small tower that is your room and an inventory for your household, you meet the refreshing breeze and green scenery of the backyard of your estate. quickly, you grab the white apron of yours and start cooking for breakfast. your friends help you grab the ingredients while you cut them up, putting them all together as you make breakfast for the sweet tastebuds.

as you put the unfinished cake onto the large oven area of the kitchen, you flap the fire using a fan to increase its burn. but ashes come and stain your white outfit, though you are used to it by now. the grey of ash and dust with the smell of smoke is a thing that you and the people in the house associated with yourself. after finishing adjusting the fire, you pour the hot water into the teapot on the tray at the top of the wooden table along with the ceramic cups. your friends scrambling around the kitchen to help you put cutleries on the tray before the bell is ringing again, now clearer as it hangs beside the exit of the kitchen.

you lift the tray with both hands, mumbling a small “thank you” to the critters as you walk to the dining table from the dirty kitchen. you go through the house's hallways as carefully as you can and arrive at the dining table to see your stepmother on the edge of the dining table, looking imposingly at you coming.

“what took you so long?” her elegant voice calls to you as you set the three cups on her side and two sides beside her, pouring each of them their tea leaves and hot water.

“i’m making a chiffon cake for breakfast, mother.” your small voice sounded as you look to see the two empty seats beside her. it’s not weird for them to wake up later in the morning. so you spoke, “do you want me to wake them?”

“no, focus on breakfast.” mother said before sniffing the surrounding air, looking down at your grey-colored clothing because of the ash.

“oh ashfool. go back to the kitchen…” after giving a small nod, you return to your cooking. pulling out from the oven and putting the delicious chiffon cake that is your late mother’s recipe onto the large plate, fresh fruits and jams all around it with small plates to serve the delicacy. the rats that help you wash their hands with the drops of water from the tap before you return to the dining room to see that your stepsisters have woken up and sipped their tea.

“thank you, (y/n).” the younger of the sisters said in a nasally way as you put the contents on the tray to the dining table. meanwhile, the older gives a smug smile before you give a small nod and walk to the corner of the room where a chair sits. your designated chair.

your gaze moves from the women at the table to the interior of your childhood home. from the memories of your mind, you can remember being in that exact spot with your own father and mother: the earl and countess of the house and the land surrounding it. then, mother fell into an illness and passed away. father then remarries, making the house of the earl and his daughter into a home of an earl, a countess with two titles that she got from her deceased husband who is also an earl, and three ladies from two separate lineages, with you being the youngest. father died on his way home outside of the town known for the roses. he promised you a bouquet of it when he returns home, but he never did because his aide comes to your home and tells you the devastating news.

it is almost an instinct that when your father died, the other women start to ridicule you and not include you in affairs. even if your father remarry, he still had a soft spot towards you rather than his wife and stepdaughters—maybe because you are his blood and bone. you are also a lady in this home—the only lady of your house who is still alive, but they pushed your status down the river and make you the caretaker of the house instead, while they take advantage of the lands your family owns from your great-great-grandfather that are handed down by hereditary.

as you eat the leftover meal from yesterday’s dinner, you overhead the women at the table speaking about the upcoming debutante ball that is happening in a few days for the social season this year. many names of other gentlemen are mentioned, but not many do you recognize. the ones that you don’t. you heard your name being called by your older sister as you stood and walk towards them, seeing the leftover cake which earns you a small smile to know you can at least taste your cooking.

you tidy the cutleries up onto the tray when you picked up, “what about (y/n)?” as it comes out from the younger of the sisters. you always realized that although all of them behave cruelly towards you, she is much tamer than the other two. probably because she is calmer and a few years older than you, she sometimes considers you in their conversations.

“she’s also a lady. isn’t the more debutantes we have, the more chances we can get for a wealthy, high-status husband?” you paused your movement before turning around. you’ve always heard about the debutante ball and the social season, carriages of high-status people walking in and out from the path in your land to arrive at the balls that are organized for this season. your parents used to take you in those balls back when you were a child, remember the men and women older than you debut themselves so they can find suitors, getting you to meet the other children of earls, marquees, and dukes that you’ve now forgotten because of the isolation.

“no, she can’t join us.” mother speak in a stern voice. “i don’t want to take care of her card when i already have the two of you. besides, she is the caretaker of our home. you do know your position, right ashfool?” your head lifted as she talks to you. all the suppression you had for you to retaliate is rushing down your blood, but you perceive it as an unladylike feature.

“i do, mother.” you gulped down your saliva. feeling the tension released but sadness overcome your emotion as you missed the festivity you had as a child. bringing back to live your life as a hermit that you think even the people outside of this house don’t know that you exist. the name, maybe, but not your being.

“ooh, i want to request a rotisserie chicken for dinner tonight.” the older of the sisters said before you return to clean off the dust that accumulates in the house this morning after cleaning the plates. you give a small nod and left the women themselves. at once after turning the corner, you listen to their snickers as they talked about you and your dirty, ash-covered clothing, how you won’t be a debutante, and if you do, no one will ever recognize or approach you.

later in the afternoon, you pick up a basket by the door of the kitchen as you go to the front gate of your home to go to the marketplace in the middle of the town. you found out there is no chicken meat left at home and that you have to buy in the market far from where you are. closing the gate, you walk on the path and examine the large land of yours and your ancestor’s estate as you go past.

you remember hearing your father say to your mother how with land that size, they could teach you whatever they want. they always wanted to teach you how to ride a horse so it’s easier for you to travel than hire a carriage service. but, after your mother passed and stepmother replace her, she forbids the house to have a stable for horses as she doesn’t want her children to do such unladylike behavior. it was the only decision that she has included you in her consideration. other than that, she ignores you and belittles you behind your father’s back. instead, you took care of stray animals that are there ever since she passed. your actions of giving them food and not bothering them earn your little friends, as you liked to call them. you’ve always been able to understand animals and they seem to understand you too.

birds whose chirping you recognize follow behind you as you stride down the empty path for horses and carriages. you could sense the breeze blowing between the trees as you can get a small glimpse of a rooftop of a large building on the edge of the horizon. the royal family’s castle near the center of the town. you pass a few houses of other marquees, earls, and dukes that are scattered on the road when rustling came from the trees beside you. ears piqued as you turn your head to the side.

“easy…” you heard a low voice fading closer as the leaves and bushes shakes. body retreating towards the other edge of the road…

“AHH!”

gravity pulls you back as you discover the neighs of a horse that just burst out of the forest onto the dirt track. its front hooves rise before the horse falls on its legs erect, standing in front of you. you watch the rope being pulled from the side of the mane as a view of a figure sitting on the saddle, making the horse face the way you are going. a hand reaches for the mane, caressing it while they calm them down in almost a whisper with indistinct words.

you look up to see a man around your age in the brightest white shirt you’ve seen. the breeze blows as you try to get up, which makes his hair floats also. your grunts make his head incline towards you.

“oh!” he exclaimed. his short brown hair covered his forehead as you successfully stand up. from beneath the horse, you can see that a pair of legs landed before walking behind it. you view the man and your mind immediately thought about him being one of the sons of barons, earls, or dukes in this land. the finest man you have ever seen in a long time. even the aura of your father exudes from him, but more playful.

“are you alright?” the man said as you brushed your dress that has faded dirt stains on it.

“my apologies. rocky here got startled by a bird flying in front then he went off course.” you give a nod before looking at the horse who is staring at you, sadness in its eyes. you walk to the front and gently open your palm that is not holding the basket in front of its nose, which it sniffles before its ears moved to the side, giving a soothing gesture as it relaxes.

“i forgive you,” you spoke to the horse and then looked at the man who lets out a small smile. feeling the awkwardness in the air as you took glances at each other.

“i should go.” you give a small nod and turn your body toward the road.

“wait.” you paused in taking your first step. “are you going to walk to the end of the road?” the man’s questions make you face him again. his eyes show an apologetic look.

“i‘m visiting the marketplace.” you nudged your empty basket forward.

“let me bring you there, miss…”

“(y/n). my name is (y/n).” your vision looks at the horse, who is flinging its tail around as it listens to both of you conversing. you’ve never interacted with a stranger before, but him just openly asking you to let him bring you to your destination was something almost fictional. you can’t believe someone as nice could exist. the legs that are holding you up are tensing from the amount of walking as the fatigue spreads and now reaches your brain to signal.

“i- don’t you have any other destination you want to go to?”

“not really. i was riding around on rocky to sightsee. trying to find some freedom.” the man said as you took a closer step toward him.

“and how should i trust you, mister?”

“beomgyu.” the man said his name as he breathed out, making his shoulders slump in relaxation. beomgyu.

“mister beomgyu.” you give a nice small smile as you see his eyes widen before wandering around the frame of the forest he is in with you, supposedly thinking of something.

“i’ve already hurt you and i supposed this could help me repay it.” beomgyu voiced as he nods his head, letting himself trust his words. you hummed before you stare up at the saddle on the horse.

“i can say that i’m not that hurting but I would love it,” you replied to his request before he beams a smile toward you before you step closer to the horse’s body. as you try to figure out how to climb the horse with the basket, you tilt your head in confusion. that is when you felt a pull from it and something touches your shoulder. turning your head to find beomgyu behind you.

“let me help,” he speaks as he puts your basket on the ground. he guides you where to put your feet on the saddle and hands before putting his hands near your waist in case you fall as you heave up on the horse. your dress lifts until above your knee before you smooth it down, holding onto the back of the horse as you perceive it move slightly beneath you. beomgyu gives you your basket then does the same as he climbs to sit in front of you, giving a small command to rocky as the horse walks down the path.

“i’ve never heard of you before.” the man talks as his head turns towards you while you move closer so you can talk and he could understand you.

“well, i supposed you don’t need to,” you replied. beomgyu lets out a chuckle.

“someone as beautiful as you must have to be the talk of the town.” your eyes widen as your face gets warm from the blood flowing, nudging his arm playfully as giggles erupt from him.

“thank you, uh, i guess.”

“your guess is right.” he looks forward to the road as more of the rooftop of the castle is more visible than before. the marketplace near it is now closer than ever.

“the social season is upon us.” beomgyu breaks the silence.

“ah, yes.”

“if i haven’t seen you it means that you haven’t had your debut yet?” the man tilts his head as you can sense rocky’s behind getting jumpier than you like it, making you lean closer to him with your hand on his side, the basket pressing to your body.

“well, i haven’t and i don’t think of going this year.”

“why not?”

you let out a small smile, “i supposed it’s not my right to be there. i’m,” you shook your head. “i’m a child of nobody.” yet, you are a child of somebody, but the demeaning comments made by the lady in the house make consider as not one of them. sadly, no one cannot be by your side to defend you either.

“but i want to meet you there.” you lock into eye contact with him as your hand lands on his waist after moving the basket to rest on top of your thigh. you let out a small chuckle.

“that would not be necessary. i assume you are a child with influential parents, by the looks of you being able to own a horse, have to be there?”

“well, you got me.” you and he let out a giggle as you can now find more roads branching out from the road you are on. “my mother wants me to find a wife. i always ask her to wait but now with the ball, she seems as if she can’t wait any longer.”

“i do hope you find the right person.”

“but i want to be with you. especially right now. i rather be here with you than at that fancy ball. it is…” you can see beomgyu’s smile, making you lean closer and view the side of his face clearly as he turns to look forward. “i’ve never felt so free.”

his words resonated with you. this is the first time that you ever felt this free, walking outside to enjoy the scenery with someone who is feeling what you are too right now. beomgyu is a stranger to you, but what you are having with him is something more.

something familiar.

-

“another two mugs of beer, please.”

“coming.”

you grabbed the drying clean wooden mugs on the table and walk to the barrel that sits sideways, twisting the tap as the beverage pours out in a dash as the liquid becomes foamy. you see your friend, haram, navigate the aisle between the customer to place down each food sieun, your other friend, is making in the kitchen. haram walks past you as she goes to pick up other plates of dishes made, she points towards the table where the people who ordered sits. you walk and let out a smile on your face as you put the mugs down in front of the two men who are eating roast meat, their waves of laughter combined with the others in the tavern.

“thank you, beautiful.” one of them said as they give you flirty eyes. you give a nod and go back to your station behind the counter as fast as you can. you still can’t believe how your mother can keep up such manners and emotion for a long time while doing her work. so elegant yet meticulous at the same time.

your parents always love to cook and they created a tavern together. a small quaint tavern in the middle of town where anyone can be here to get away from any work they’re doing in the day. you grow up assessing the bustling business from both your father’s kitchen and mother’s counters, that is until she passed away from a dangerous plague you’ve also caught. you knew you wanted to say by her side for the longest time as you isolate yourself with her when you both caught the illness, even if it means leaving the world together at such a young age. but someone somewhere made a change of plan for you as you live to survive, watching your father marry a neighbor of his who is a widow with two daughters around your age.

back in your home, your father always loves to make new recipes for the family if he receives new ingredients from his farmer friends. but, your stepmother always dislikes what he does. she doesn’t enjoy seeing a man in the kitchen as she always told him to pursue a more ‘masculine’ career like sieun’s father, who is a blacksmith. his love of food persist until he died because the kingdom drafted him into a war with the neighboring kingdom. because he passed prematurely, the only one who can work for the tavern is you. since after you finished your education that you don’t have any work to do or any suitor for you, you invited both of your friends to work with you at the tavern.

you taught haram how to serve customers, being the person who can help her release her stress and emotions toward you. then you taught sieun your father’s recipe as she wants to be the cook—you know she can do her part perfectly when she told you about being near sharp objects and heat. you take the role that was your mother’s and the manager of the tavern altogether, still in contact with your father’s friends as suppliers for the business. it is weird to hear a woman as a business owner, but because haram’s mother, a dressmaker, also owns a business, she helps you in managing all these things.

your stepmother doesn’t enjoy seeing you succeed independently. so with the power of her being married to your father before he passed, she demands you to give 1/3 cut of the profit every month that was supposed to help in your supplies and making the tavern better. you cannot deny her as much as you want to because if you are, words of disgust will spread around you that if you cannot respect your parent, you cannot respect your customer either. ironically, she and her daughters can’t respect you even though they live in your father’s home and not theirs. as a result of that, you let yourself live in a spare room of the tavern as you don’t want to be connected to them once again. you don't want them to treat you like a servant when you return to your own house.

as you dry the clean mugs, eyes on the open space full of people where someone is playing the lute, the entrance opens as a cloaked figure comes in. the cloak is raggy, almost trailing the wooden floor and even though they’re inside, they aren’t dropping their hood. people who wore something similar to this are most of the time travelers or maybe fugitives, but it doesn’t matter to you as you are here trying to survive. voices muffled and the tunnel vision you got on the cloaked figure makes you didn’t aware of something slamming in front of you. you twist your head to the sound to catch a man mumbling his words, trying to enamor you for free beer. all you can do is shake your head and say “no” while furrowing your eyebrows. as fast as the air travels, you see a glint of light slice the air while finally noticing that he’s wearing armor on his figure, pointing his shortsword at you. a knight.

both of your hands raised as you step back, slamming your bosom against the cabinet behind you as the knight’s voice penetrates the air and even the melody of the lute at the back. you look at haram’s shocked face as she walks to the knight.

“please, sire. we can finish this calml-"

“NO. THIS WOMAN HERE HAS” he hiccuped while pointing towards you. “has insulted me and-“

“stop!”

your head turns toward the source of the unknown voice. eyebrows raised to see the cloaked figure that enters the tavern right next to the knight. the knight in a face full of rage turns his body to face the figure before his face fell. “your h-“

“you are clearly too drunk to act. i suggest you go back to your quarters wherever it is.” the figure said wisely. because of it, the knife seem to sober up for a bit and retracted the shortsword back into its hilt on his body. he looks between you and the figure.

“m-my apologies.” the knight mumbles before scurrying away. haram’s gaze follows the knight before turning towards you, communicating through your eye contact as you give a small nod so she can continue doing her work. you then turn your head towards the cloaked figure as they let out a sigh.

“thank you.” you quickly gather yourself and pour one of the clean mugs a beer for the figure. you gently slide the filled-up mug to them as they looked down at it.

“it’s on us,” you tell them so they don’t have to pay. the figure’s shoulders slump before they sit down on the barstool.

“thank you,” they replied before pulling their hood off. a man with the upper part of his black hair tied to the back and the ragged robe he wears hides an expensive-looking outfit beneath it. a few seconds to study their face is enough for your eyebrows to rise.

you recognize that face. you’ve seen that face before.

“a traveler?” you asked, trying to subside your suspicions about the person because the face is too familiar to your liking.

“not exactly.”

“fair enough,” you replied as haram sends a message to prepare more mugs of beer as the lute continues to play now with the violin singing along.

“what brings you here, sire?” you put the mugs on the counter as haram picks them up and serves them to the tables.

“i’m scouting the town. everything felt new to me,” he said as he take a sip of the beer you served him.

“i thought you are not a traveler.”

“i-“ he paused as you turn your view somewhere else, hoping that could help him speak comfortably. “what i meant by ‘not exactly’ is that i live near the outskirts of town. i’ve never been in town before, especially at my age because i have so much to do.”

you nod your head, but your critical mind makes you think back on the clothes underneath the robe. “you must be a wealthy man then, sir. wearing such clothes beneath such a dirty robe.”

your comments earned a surprised look on his face as his mouth opens, trying to answer your questions. “i’m here visiting to attend the masquerade ball.”

the masquerade ball is the ball that the royal family has made in celebration of the prince’s birthday. though you recognize the king and queen, you never knew the prince as he is always so hidden or it is because his parents didn’t allow him to interact with peasants like you and your friends. the royals prepare this ball so that the prince can find himself a wife as he is around your age. a bachelor in need of a partner so they can rule this kingdom together. so it’s weird that even with such a close-off prince, the family still invited all the bachelorettes who don’t have a man to come so the prince can find the right suitor, all wearing masks so their inner self shines instead to make the prince interested. you didn’t plan on going but you sure know your stepmother and stepsisters do.

“understandable.” you give a small smile as you rub the rug you’re holding to clean up the liquids on the counter that are remaining.

“do you intent to go to the ball?” his question earns a short giggle from you as you shook your head.

“why should i go? i mean, look at me.” you open your arms so that he can study your dusty-colored dress underneath your brown apron because you always stayed by the ashes of the fire to see your father cook. even now as you and sieun talk about making new recipes in the kitchen. you aren’t called ashfool by your stepmother if it weren’t for it.

“someone like me could not be a suitor for a prince.”

“but aren’t you tired of the cycle you have to go to?” he presses on.

yes, you are tired. but it’s what you need to survive.

“the ball going on at night time is bad for me, especially if i leave the tavern to my friends. the tavern is always full at night.” you sigh before looking somewhere else than him. “it sure sounds fun.”

“and i enjoy your company here with me.” the man said as you face him as fast as you can. “we could talk more at the party if you come.”

you let out a chuckle as you turn to see haram raises a pointer finger towards you so you can grab a mug and fill it up from the barrel behind. though there are barstools where you are working, nobody seems to care enough to interact with you, and this man is the first one. so when you heard he enjoys your company with him, something flutters inside you.

“i’ll try my best. if i could find the right dress and mask since the ball is in a few days.” you give a warm smile as he replicates it on his own. “you sure have a promise you have to fulfill, sir…”

“it’s beomgyu. and i make sure i’ll fulfill that promise.”

-

the thick cable of your laptop charger rested beside it, plugged. having such an old model means the battery is so bad it is leaking and you don’t have enough disposable income to repair or even fix it. your task for the folk lore paper about cinderella is around a third done as you don’t have any other things to do while multitasking. you eat the leftover salty popcorn you made last time—even you can say it sickens you, though it’s your favorite snack to eat.

your sticky fingers make you rub them on the blue apron you’re wearing, seeing it being stained by the grease before it’s dry enough for you to write again in your document, finding the right words to write with the multiple tabs talking about cinderella opened on the browser. with a theater to yourself, you prepare to watch the cartoon disney’s cinderella near the end of your shift, closing it early as if anyone wants to come to visit, anyway.

you glance at the cd case of disney’s cinderella beside the laptop as your hand grabs another popcorn while you read back on what you are writing, knowing you have to proofread it again so the words don’t come out weird. that’s when you hear a grunt and footsteps as the traffic sounds enter the cinema with you in it for the first time. a figure walking before the glass door closes. a man with boyish manners who is around your age enters as he comes and approaches you. he has brownish with a red undertone colored haired and mullet that falls to his nape, wearing a blouse and leather pants that you figure out cost so much.

as the man comes closer, you can’t help but see his face.

wait.

didn’t you see him before?

the face is so familiar.

and you can only pair one name with this face.

“beomgyu?”

“of course, you know me.” he said in an exasperated way before standing in front of the counter, agitated. “okay. sorry. i, i need someplace to hide.” he replies before looking straight at you, eyes meeting with an intense stare.

“why-“

“i’ll tell you everything. any place to hide?” beomgyu looks behind to the glass doors before turning back.

“i- well- you can hide behind the counter underneath the cashier.” you point towards the counter beside you as you let beomgyu walk to your side and sit with his back against it. the counter is fully made of wood, unlike the display case you stood in front of with the lights off because what should you display when no one comes? well, beomgyu did. you looked down at beomgyu who is calming himself down before the sudden sound of traffic enters again as a large man enters the room and walks towards you imposingly.

“excuse me, miss. have you seen choi beomgyu?” the man asks.

your eyes widen before you unconsciously let out a pout. is he that important of a person that someone is trying to find him? is this man someone he knows? or is this man someone dangerous and is beomgyu’s opponent?

“i- no. i haven’t seen choi beomgyu and i don’t know who he is, actually.”

“i see. thanks.” he turns around to walk the entrance before pausing. you’re glad that you didn’t let your vision leave him.

“how much is a small serving of popcorn?” the man asked before turning around and walking back to the counter.

“you want popcorn?” you squint your eyes at him.

“i’ve been running after mr. choi. i also need a snack, alright?” the man—exasperated—says as you give a nod, glancing at beomgyu for a split second to catch him looking at you before turning around and preparing the serving for the popcorn. receiving the heat from the machine, you close the lid again and walk to put the popcorn on the counter as the man is opening his wallet. you glance down at beomgyu as you gesture with your hand in a dash so he can move to the side and stand in front of the cashier. as he scoots, he accidentally hit the wooden material.

“ack.”

“what was that?” the man lifts his head as he looked at you, who is already preparing a painful expression on your face.

“it’s me. accidentally hit the cabinet, hehe.”

the man gives you the money and grabs the popcorn, “hope you have a good business today.” he said before leaving.

“yeah, i hope you find him,” you said back as the glass door closes before you slump your hand on the counter. you heard the giggle from beomgyu’s corner as he stands up beside you. “it’s your fault.” you glare at him.

“i know, but i didn’t expect my bodyguard to just order popcorn.” he continues laughing as you rolled your eyes, back to your laptop to do your task. you sense another body getting closer to you as you glance at him, blinking your eyes.

“(y/n), huh?” you received his mumble as you see him look at the screen of your laptop on the first page where your name is written. you hummed as a reply.

“this is a cinema?” he asked as he looked around. you let another hum of agreement.

“local cinema. a family business.”

“any interesting movie you play? blockbusters like the mcu movies or just newly released ones?”

“not really.” you lift your shoulders as you reply. “the movies we have are the ones that released the latest a year prior. we have all kinds of blockbusters there and also old ones like star wars episode 4 and jaws.“

“isn’t it just watching it on tv?” you let out a chuckle at his question.

“do you watch movies on your tv anymore? or do you use your laptop to open a streaming service to view it?”

“heh, touché.” his answers make you laugh as you can’t focus on your writing. he joins in too. you felt the sense of familiarity when you are with him, a connection from beneath you slowly rising.

“if you’re asking, my dad is a filmmaker and film connoisseur. he made a local cinema so indie movies can air their movies here and we can show people more movies from the old ones to obscure ones here unlike the theaters you know. we made money but occasionally, specifically the room night when we played the room by tommy wiseau, and people just flocking in. but day-to-day business, yeah it is this empty.” you emphasized the last two words as beomgyu looked at you who are pouting your lips. his eyes move to the cd case beside your laptop.

“what’s that doing here?”

“something to check out for my uni paper. doing a task about the cinderella folktale.”

“ahh…” beomgyu paused, “when are you watching it?”

“later probably?”

“can we watch it now?” your creases folded.

“you wanna watch it now?”

“yeah. i could give another opinion to be added to your paper.”

maybe another voice of opinion can help make your paper better as only a one-sided opinion can’t highlight the richness of the story.

“sure.” you agree.

beomgyu’s eyes lighten up as he requested drinks for both of you and a bucket of popcorn, which he promised he will pay double the actual price. you roll your eyes before a smile shows on your face as you guide him to the open theater door of the cinema, letting him walk into the small hallway full of soundproof walls your dad made into the small cinema which only comprises ten columns that are in a slope and five rows to the side, walk away on both left and right. both of you picked the seats right in the middle. you moved back to the entrance of the lobby room and turned the ‘open‘ sign to ‘close‘ and locked the door as you don’t anyone coming into the cinema without your supervision.

foot stepping on the carpeted floor as you go to the projector room and put the cd in the dvd player, the light dims from the small window from the room after you press the button. as the grandiose 1950s orchestra plays to the intro of the movie, you fast-walk to your seat beside beomgyu. he rested his bucket of popcorn in the middle while your drinks are on the other side of you two. you let out your breath as you see the book open and introduce the prologue of the story. the story of a young girl of a widowed gentleman who married his second wife with her two daughters. the man died and the wife’s true nature comes out where she is jealous of the young girl while always forwarding her and her daughters’ interests.

Thus, as time went by, the chateau fell into disrepair, for the family fortunes were squandered upon the vain and selfish stepsisters, while Cinderella was abused, humiliated, and eventually forced to become a servant in her own house. And yet, through it all, Cinderella remained ever gentle and kind, for with each dawn she found new hope that someday, her dreams of happiness would come true.

a white space you are in.

a rectangle window shows a scene of you and beomgyu sitting down in the theater watching the movie now in front of you.

yes, you.

you looked at the other windows that are surrounding you as you look at yourself in three different states.

buying something in the marketplace.

cleaning tables in the tavern.

watching a movie with a man.

the same man you met in all three instances.

as you looked down on yourself, you’re wearing a flowy blue dress that dances the air yet no wind is present here. hands open in front of you as you see the tint in your skin slowly fading. yes, the tint of the blue of fading away too. saturated. turning gray.

like ash.

ash…

“ashfool!”

you turn your head to see your stepmother who is now wearing a floor-length light purple dress by the open door of your house. your stepsisters climbing into the carriage that is taking them to the debutante wall with their white dresses that contrast the last of the setting sun behind them. blinking your eyes to gather yourself up, you turn to look at your stepmother and give a small “my apologies.” for letting your mind wander away.

but it felt like someone is watching you.

“take care of the house. clean the floor of our rooms. we will arrive after midnight so i want you to prepare tea.” you nod along the way as she rambles, walking down the step of the patio of the home as you lean against the door, already closing half the door away. as the door of the carriage closes, you said “take care.” before the carriage strides away and you push the door close.

you listen to the footsteps approaching behind you as you lean your head against the door. turning around, you view the magic and sparkly presence of your fairy godmother you met two days ago. seeing her holding a beautiful white dress and pair of gloves with accented blue accessories for your hair and a pair of glass slippers she handcrafted only for the size of your feet.

after beomgyu and you part ways outside of the marketplace because he has to go back home, you bought everything you needed for the rotisserie chicken your stepsister requested before going back home on your feet. as you arrived, made dinner for them after they have gotten home from whatever they are doing. while you clean the dishes up and prepare yourself to rest for the night, you realize light coming from a garden and a yelp outside. your curiosity makes you move to meet a lady sitting on the ground; in a glitter dress that reflects the moonlight, around the age of what your mother is supposed to be if she is alive.

she introduced you as your fairy godmother as you squint your eyes in confusion. but it changes when you recalled her saying, “your mother bestowed me to protect you.”

that night, you talked to her as if you are talking to your parents again: openly and enthusiastically. you mentioned how sad you are the past few years and mention the man you met earlier in the day. the mention of the debutante ball she hears makes her react happily as you watch her rambling about what kind of dress you have to wear for the ball. yet, you stopped her as you don’t want to pressure her to get you to go.

“aren’t you excited to see your prince?”

“he’s not my prince, and he’s also not a prin-“

“i can consider that boy to be like that for you.” as she touches your nose with her pointer finger, sparkles come from them.

yesterday is the most hectic day in your entire life as you have to take care of the house and the occupants while also your new guest. even though she wanted to help you with her magic, you always deny her as you want to do your job on your own. your critter friends also want to join the special occasion as the fairy godmother gives a spell to them that makes them talk. for the first time, you hear your friends talk and interact with you more than they did before—more dynamic especially as you can assign their voices to each other. you listen as your fairy godmother asks request for them to be your butlers and horses and they agree—wanting to make you happy as your eyes glisten from hearing their intentions.

looking at the mirror in your tower, you see yourself in the white dress that is a staple for a debutante ball but the blue accessories give a difference to you that could help you slightly stand out, making you remember the different flower colors on your stepsisters’ hairs. you look at fairy godmother appearing behind you wearing a blue dress similar to your accessories holding a fan for the dance card, looking at the reflection of you proudly as her hands caress your upper arms.

“your mother would be so proud,” she muttered as you have tears glistening in your eyes, feeling the vast happiness from your heart as the pain subsides for a moment.

as you walk down the tower, you find a carriage made of pumpkin—that doesn’t resemble a pumpkin at all—that fairy godmother got from the inventory with a few of your critter friends turning into butlers and horses. you give a smile to them as godmother walks into the carriage and guides you inside.

“we have to arrive there early so stepmother won’t catch us.” you voice out to her.

“sure, dear.” she flicks her wrist as you heard yelping from outside and a rush of winds and the trees move fast as the carriage lands on the road with more streetlamps on the side. the bustling crowd of the town is fading in as fairy godmother whispers to the horses to follow the other carriages to the castle.

you can see outside the many carriages that carry other debutantes lining up from the small window at the front of the carriage, the door being open by the butlers at the main entrance. sweat forming on your palms as you rub them against your covered knees before your godmother puts her hand on yours, smoothing it down with her thumb as you look at her and catch a glimpse of your mother for a few frames of time. you smile as you took a huge breath when you see the butler arrives at the door of the carriage and open it. the man’s hand opens to help you stand up and step down from the carriage where you watch other people walking to the door. your godmother stood beside you as she escort you to the entrance with the others, no sign of your stepmother and stepsisters, no sign of beomgyu.

every debutante is to be introduced when they arrive and enter the main room where the queen and her son are stationed. you just learned that the son is also debuting this season from godmother as you are preparing to go the day before. the queen wants to find the right partner for him. you notice a sparkle coming from the godmother beside you as you walk near the announcer—a name and title showing up at the bottom of the list when godmother steps up and points your name. as the door opens, you held your head high, introducing yourself to the bustling crowd.

“lady (y/f/n) of house (l/n).”

though you are on top of the staircase, you felt almost everyone turning their heads towards you, their stare piercing into you. godmother beside you as she guides you down the flight of stairs; meeting the eyes of boys and girls your age, their maternal figures that chaperone them, and a throne at the end of the hall elevated. the queen sat in the middle with the small yet luxurious seat beside hers. a man stood in front of it, eyes focused on you. the prince.

it seems weird to know that the mothers of the sons go to your godmother who is surrounded by them asking for a place in your card that she holds when your eyes are looking only at one spot. the steps coming from your glass slippers seem to ring in your ears louder than the crowd itself as it opens in front of you as they look between you and the prince. your eyebrows lifted as the prince walks down from the throne beside his mother’s, their facial features much more prominent. medals hanging on their torso as you see the familiar smile on their face.

beomgyu.

when he steps in front of you, you curtsy as best as you can after having not curtsy for a long time because of your isolation. “your highness…” you mumbled.

beomgyu looks at you as you return to your position. a hand gently takes yours as you watch him leaning down to kiss your covered hand. “lady (y/n).”

you let out a small smile as you can receive godmother’s voice approaching you. “dear, i didn’t get the names because i want to consult with you fi- ohh your highness.” you glance beside her to watch her curtsy.

“you can rise,” beomgyu mutters as you looked behind him to see the queen stepping up to walk behind him as you and everyone near her presence curtsy.

“your majesty.” you acknowledge her presence before raising your head. her chuckle in the most elegant and ethereal way you’ve ever heard.

“i supposed my son here wants to write in your card?” the queen asks towards beomgyu as he gives a nod. you look at godmother, pupils trembling in your eyes as you don’t know what to answer, recalling your practice session last night with her after a long time of not dancing. you wanted to curse on whoever put so many dance styles in one ball and the need to learn all styles. so as a bargain between you and her, you only wanted to do one dance, and it’s only with beomgyu if you met him. with the revelation of him being the prince, the burden grows.

“of course, we would love to.” godmother said beside you as she puts the name on your card while you look sheepishly at him, who is wearing a beautiful suit. that was when you picked up the string quartet playing from the corner as people went to the edge of the room and left the middle spacious for all the dancers.

“may i, my lady?” beomgyu gently speaks as he opens his hand to you. you were holding your breath the whole time as you finally let it out when you put your hand on his.

“we may.”

beomgyu brought you to the middle of the space where other people dance. you brought your hands into the right position that you learned last night and he reciprocates, hands on your hand and waist respectively as you slowly dance, following the melody of the music. feeling the glass slippers light taps on the floor.

“you look beautiful tonight.” beomgyu compliments, blood rushing, getting your face warm.

“thank you, your highness. you as well.”

“please stop with the address. makes me feel awkward.” his nagging results in both of you giggling as you dance. brushes of other women’s dresses grazed you as you both move around.

“well… this is me…” you mumbled to him.

“and this is me. you did lie to me when you said you are a child of nobody,” he replied with the words you spoke to him last time.

“it is a long story to tell.”

“and i want to listen to it all.”

“don't you have more dances to do? besides…” your eyes gaze at him as he guides you in the dance, sensing your arms aching for staying in the same position much longer than what you practice. “you are the one in need of a wife.”

beomgyu looks somewhere other than you, the same thing he did when he was thinking from the last time you saw him. humming flows to your ears from. “my dear mother wants me to find someone to dance to but i told her about wanting a specific girl i met on the streets for my first dance.”

you bashfully glance at him as you focused on your footwork to push the nervousness behind you when he continues, “and my last for the ball as well.”

-

“it will not work.”

“it is!”

“it is working. hold still.”

you hold on to the frame of the mirror before you as you sense a pull on your abdomen that is so strong you almost fling. as the ribbons are pulled from behind, you look at the reflection in the mirror, holding your breath. colorful dresses upon colorful fabrics stack in the cabinet almost the whole four walls of the room. sieun fanning your face and wiping your sweat using a handkerchief while haram stood behind, tying the ribbon. haram’s mother, the owner of the shop, looks proudly at the three beautiful women as she pulls out the masks she made.

after the conversation with the mysterious traveler named beomgyu and the promise you both partaken in, haram quickly asks her mother for dresses so the three of you could go to the masquerade ball. luckily, she had dresses she created inspired by her muse: her own daughter and her friends. a beautiful pink flowy gown with large sleeves until her hands. while sieun also wears a similar one to haram’s, but the dress is yellow and black with ribbons tied to the front. yours was undoubtedly blue—said the dressmaker—that trains down until it grazes the floor before you wear your shoes.

haram’s mother shows the three of you the three masks corresponding to your dress colors from the leftover fabric when she makes it the day haram told her they’re going until today. you put on the mask that covers the upper part of your face and ties the ribbons behind your head as if you are wearing your dress, feeling it pressing down on your cheeks and a frame forming around your vision. you were smoothing down the gown when you hear the light sobs coming from the older woman as she looks at the three of you, no words cannot express what emotion she is expressing as she let tears go down her cheeks while smiling as wide as she could.

“my daughters have grown up so well," she said as she hugged haram, before standing in front of you and sieun.

“your mothers would be proud.”

the woman pushes the three of you out of the shop as you watch other people in suits and dresses and walk to the imposingly enormous castle in the middle of the town, all wearing masks and clothing according to the theme. walking closer as you enter the castle gates, there’s a view of buffets of food placed outside for all the low-income citizen that comes to eat. a gracious gesture by the royals to show their selflessness behind their luxury. servers even wear uniform masks as they bring the trays of drinks and light meals across the ballroom that leads has a stair that branches out for the royal family to arrive at the top of it, where you can see the king and queen behind their regal masks and outfit, no presence of their son otherwise.

your eyes spin around along with the movement of the people that dance in the middle of the room, trying to find the man with tied hair somewhere. both of your friends stayed on the sidelines as they served themselves free food and drinks, letting loose for closing the tavern just for today. eyes glance towards your shoulder as you feel a tap to see a finger as you trail it to the figure wearing white and gold, the mask resembles the flow of his outfit as the black hair is let down with a length until the end of his nape. looking up, you see him wearing a beautiful crown made of flowers, branches, and beautifully carved shards of glass that you’ve seen both the king and queen also have in their own crowns.

the prince.

“your highness.” you bow your head whilst trying your best to curtsy, holding for a few seconds before you felt a caress on your forearm as you return to your earlier position and see him gently kissing your hand before looking back up at you.

“may i dance with you?” he asks in an ethereal sounding voice, his posture poised with a dust of elegance exuding from him. the prince wanting to dance with you? of course, you can’t deny it as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime moment. but your mind is still wandering to at least find the man you are here for.

“you may,” you reply after landing your eyes back on him as he brought you to the middle of the room as the other dancers seem to move away for you. muscles becoming tense as you look to the others with your arms flailing to follow the right pose before the prince held your hand and body in place in his.

“try to relax and follow my lead,” he said with you nodding right after as your body moves on the floor, following the melody of the music and the flow of other dancers. you notice that the couples dancing were staring at their partner’s eyes, but the reality of you dancing with the prince and having to meet your eyes with his is daunting. your mind goes elsewhere as you let him move your body however he sees, wondering if beomgyu came here or not.

“what are you thinking?” your head moves to the voice in front of you as you met the prince’s piercing eyes behind his mask.

“my apologies, your highness. i was wondering if my acquaintance has arrived yet,” you speak truthfully as your eyes on his focus on the mask that covers his cheekbones instead. you move with the others in the dance and both of your body rotates, following the flow that has been created you can glance at the entrance as you waited for beomgyu to arrive, but the prince immediately felt how your body becomes rigid as you see a group of three women entering the room instead. though it’s almost a week ago since you last met them, you can recognize them by their hair colors, their postures, and their dress colors.

your stepmother and stepsisters.

“i- i have to go.” panic seeps into your words as the prince turns his head to the entrance. you search everywhere for the nearest exit but failed as the sea of people around you covers it. you told your friends that you were only here for beomgyu and will return home to the tavern if you met him, hoping to have at least an interaction with him for a few seconds before your stepmother and stepsisters arrived. the last time you met them was the day you told them you won’t go to the ball, which changed with the appearance of beomgyu the next day. but you still remember the ridiculous comments you got about how if you’re there, you won’t change the prince’s attention anyway.

“i know where we can go.” a whisper said into your ear as your eyes gaze at the prince’s presence near you, his breath caressing the skin that is not covered by the mask on your face as a tug pulled on your arm where he guides you away from the sparse space into the crowd. you see other patrons seem to bow their heads to the prince, but he ignores them when you arrive at a set of doors and open them to the hallway bustling with servers.

he brought you along the hallway before arriving at a terrace with a garden before you, hedges stand tall as you step down to the garden and enter the hedges. your feet stumbling on the gravel path as he walks straight then turns a few corners as you look at a beautiful fountain with patches of flowers around it. breath heavy, he pulled you to the stone bench near the fountain as your eyes glare at him.

“you need to go back, your highness. it is your ball after a-"

“i needed that time to escape,” he speaks while ruffling his hair, the crown on top of him nudges as he picks it up and put it down beside him, stretching his head as he’s free from the heavy-looking accessories he has to wear.

you stood up as you walk to the cut you come from only to be bombarded by the hedge walls surrounding the two of you. wanting to leave as you don’t want to make the prince feel uncomfortable when you should find your friends so you can return home.

“please stay.” the other person said as you turn your body around. the ends of your dress meet your ankle as you watch the prince leaning his head down. when he sees the front of your feet in his vision, he lifts his head. as you look at him from your standing position, his face is shined by the moonlight above you. that’s when you see it.

beneath the mask around his eyes, shadows forming under them, skin sunken as veins shows near the skin’s outermost surface. how is straining his eyes so that he could wake up and stay awake.

“you should rest, your highness.” you bluntly speak as you see how his lips pouted before he lets out a chuckle.

“it’s too obvious, isn’t it?” his irises move down, knowing what your comment meant.

“yes, it is.” you blinked your eyes before looking away.

“i didn’t ask for this.” your eyes stayed looking at the water sprouting out of the fountain as the prince continues to talk.

“a masquerade ball. my parents truly use this occasion so that i could find a match or they could match me up with some noble daughters from all over the kingdom, saying that you’re getting too old when in fact i just arrive at the adulting threshold.” he sighs as you turn your head to the side, seeing the prince from the corner of your eyes.

“everyone was too busy for the ball that i don’t have any time to settle down my mental and physical being for something i don’t prepare and had no say in preparing. though the banquet is noble enough, we can focus on that instead rather than putting on this lavish event.” you nod along with his words, attentive to the change of volume of his spoken words as it gets louder and louder. hands in front of you together, you turn your body to see the prince’s head facing the night sky, giving the view of his neck and adam’s apple as he breathes the fresh air.

feet moving across the grass, you stood beside him and said, “happy birthday…” as a small comment as you recall the purpose of the ball held today other than for him to find a wife.

you didn’t expect his hand to move out and grab yours in his, reminding you of how he holds you for most of the time you are here. his head tilts down and you notice the sparkles in his irises, a small smile tugging his lips.

“thank you. you’re the first one to remember.”

-

your hands rub against each other as you sit on the bus on the way to your meeting place beomgyu and you agree. fingers playing on the ends of your father’s favorite blazer you kept that you’re wearing on this cold night above the blue dress you got from the thrift shop—a great-looking dress that you felt sorry for its earlier owner who can’t see the beauty of it.

after the movie finishes—where the whole time you talked about the characters, their motives, the plot, and the impact of it—beomgyu grumbles as he sees the alarm from his airplane-mode-on phone ringing, reminding him of an upcoming meeting he has where his dad invited him to. when he opens his calendar to check the time, you get a glimpse of a reminder of a charity ball at the end of the weekend. beomgyu notices it too as he paused before looking at you and then at the reminder.

“would you be my date for the charity ball?”

he would then persuade you, saying that you and he can slip away when people are eating their dinner. you had fun that day at the cinema with beomgyu he succeeded in his attempt and you have to prepare for a ball you know will include so many influential rich people—conglomerates—while you don’t even have savings as much as the amount they spend on a lunch in a three-star michelin restaurant.

stepping down from the bus stop at the park near the hotel where the ball is held, you can see a black suv with a man standing in front of it. beomgyu’s bodyguard who you met before watching the movie and after when beomgyu called him to the cinema, a sigh of disappointment comes out of him as he realizes how you perfectly lie to him while beomgyu is rolling his tongue to him before they left. the man seems to detect you under the flickering streetlights as you approach the car. his body turns to the backseat door and his hand rested on the handle.

“mr. choi was worried you would not come. so he stayed in the car.”

when the door opens, beomgyu’s body jerks from the sound as he faces you in a suit and tie combo. the frown on his face is replaced with a smirk as he helps you climb into the backseat with him, his bodyguard returns to the driver’s seat and drive the car away. you didn’t realize your hand was still in his before you let go to rub them on your blazer, glancing to the side to catch beomgyu’s eyes admiring you.

“you look great!” he breaks out. “whose blazer is this?”

“ah, i don’t know the brand, but it’s my dad’s,” you replied, trying to blend in some lingo that his crowd might use even though when you spoke it does sound a bit out of touch.

“i don’t care what brand it came from. yet it looks great and compliments your dress.” he rambles, giggles coming from you as you face beomgyu.

“thanks, gyu.” your sudden nickname of his makes his eyebrows raised before he lets out a wide smile that reaches his eyes.

“my pleasure.”

yet you aren’t prepared for the number of flashes coming from the camera as you walk down the red carpet into the ball. the backdrop behind you mentioning beomgyu’s family business with many interviewers asking him for an interview. gaining steady breathing, you tried to act as relaxed as possible. but, it isn't possible with the amount of exposure you have.

you sense beomgyu’s hands wrapping down to your lower back as you both pose for the pictures, letting out a smile that can highlight you the most before he escorted you away into the large ballroom of circular tables and chairs around it. beomgyu’s hand still rested on your back as he guide you and tap the shoulder of a middle-aged man. the man turns around and you see a face similar to his as the man gave a hug to beomgyu before looking at you.

“is this your date?” the man asked.

“yes, she is. dad.” your eyes widen as you realized you stood in front of beomgyu’s dad, the chairman of this conglomerate himself. you can see him scan you and the outfit you wore—smile slowly widening before he turns to pull the hand of a middle-aged woman who turns to glance at beomgyu and you.

“oh my- beomgyu. you didn’t tell me your girlfriend is so pretty.”

girlfriend?

your eyes turn to him as beomgyu sheepishly laughs along with the woman he calls—and you just realized—his mom, noticing the resemblance of them in beomgyu. his mom approaches you and tugs you away to the tables, moving past the tables at the back to arrive at the table near the stage where a podium stands. beomgyu follows behind the two of you as his mom looks at you enthusiastically. she sat both of you down in the seats beside each other.

you wanted so much to talk to beomgyu beside you but when you think got the opportunity, someone else always cuts you off. that’s when you finally felt the dread building up and the realization of the aftermath of the captured image of you being here with someone as important as a conglomerate’s son.

your stepmother could figure it out or your stepsisters could find something on the gossip news with your picture in it.

the event went by in a blur as your body move on autopilot, while your mind just think of the worst things that might happen to you when you arrive home. you can hear them calling you selfish for hiding such a high-profile connection from them before they degrade you and say you don’t deserve to be in connection to someone like him and it should be them cause they will nurture the connection better than you. you either look at the three-course meal being served to you or your lap, occasionally to the stage as you see the performance and the mc guiding the event. the air inside the room sends a shiver down your skin as you sit without your blazer, knowing it resting behind you on the chair you sit on.

your eyes glance towards the stage to see beomgyu giving a speech on the podium before looking away, not realizing he stayed his gaze on you for longer than you did on him.

the applause rings in your ears as hands settle on your shoulders when beomgyu leans down and whisper into your ear, “you want to get out of here?”

“yes,” you spoke, already having your blazer and purse in your arms.

that’s what it takes for beomgyu to excuse both of you as you both want to ‘take a shot at the bar’, when in reality he slips you away to the outside world from the kitchen and arrive at a small alley as he and you run together down the streets envelop by the night, finally being able to breathe for all the suffocation you held as he is also doing the same to you. you walk past buskers performing on the street and a road full of people with street food carts all over. ordering a few snacks as you watch the buskers perform, giving them money as appreciation.

“why did your mom say that i’m your girlfriend?” you said as you lean back on the bench overlooking the river, a large bridge where vehicles can go across right beside it as skyscrapers from the other side glimmer along with the stars.

“gosh. i’m really freaking sorry to bring you into my trouble.”

“well, too late ‘cause you did.” you let out a giggle at him while he finishes an ice cream cup.

“long story short, my mom and dad expected me to come with a date for this year’s charity ball. but i haven’t found one so i thought “why not?” and asked you before i go."

“well, why me?” you nudge your exposed shoulder to his covered one. the only thing coming into your mind is for you to tease beomgyu.

“i just have this feeling that for as little as our time interacting, you know me so well.” beomgyu lets out a sigh as he looks straight at the river in front of you. “like i’ve met you before in some past lifetime i might have.”

eyebrows furrowed, you shook your head as you don’t want something to seep into your min-

wait, why are you thinking like that? no. continue with whatever you’re doing.

“i- i guess i could sense that too?” you replied, head bops in confusion.

“right?” he turns his face towards you. he looks at his hand between the two of you before looking up, “but i never thought mom would immediately comment on you being my girlfriend. she’s- well-“ he paused as you pursed your lips. “you blend in well enough that she didn’t think you were out of place.”

something struck into your mind after he said, ‘cause even though he considered so, you didn’t. you don’t assume you blend in enough. you felt like you are a snowball in the middle of magma, melting slowly as you almost succumb to pressure before beomgyu noticed and took you away.

“thank you, gyu.” you said as you look at him shyly. “i didn’t feel like it though.”

“but you did so freaking well,” he said as put the empty ice cream cup on the other side of him, scooting closer to you on the bench. you look at your thighs touching as beomgyu lifts his hand, so it doesn’t squish between the two of you. sensing something cold press again your cheek, your eyes move to see a hand that belongs to beomgyu before looking at him in front of you. your eyes wandering from his wide eyes, cute nose, and plump lips.

“you were amazing,” he mumbles as you can feel his eyes not focusing on yours, but downwards.

as your breath hitches, you close your eyes and wait for him to the first move. both of your hands on your lap linked as you waited for the feeling of his lips on yours. but it never comes, so you open your eyes.

and see a split vision of three men trying to kiss you at the same tim- what?

a force pulls your body from behind you as you arrived at white space to see the three different windows of a couple almost kissing, all in a pause frame. all are from different times when you notice that all the women have something blue worn on them while the man beside her all have differing hairstyles. the longer you look, the more you realized the women are you and by proxy, the men in front of them are all beomgyu.

you stare at the three different filters on each window. the one where you are wearing something from a regency era has an ethereal filter with more white highlights and a tint of pink and purple. the one where you wear something a game of thrones character would wear is more neutral and brown tone while the last one with the backdrop of the city is more neon. all wearing age-appropriate clothing, but something just doesn’t feel right.

the three windows are on the three sides you could see. and if it is a room, there must be a fourth wall.

so, you turn around to find a full-body mirror in front of you reflecting your current state. the dress you are wearing is losing saturation every time you walk forward. not only the dress but also your skin tone as it contrasts with the white that is surrounding you. like smoke in a clear sky, like a speck of dust on a clean floor.

like ash falling down from a burning fire.

ash.

soot.

cinder.

looking at yourself hauntingly, you suddenly hear something coming from the mirror. not in front, not inside, but behind it. you step carefully on the white floor as you walk around the mirror that stood behind you without support. you catch a glance of a wall of text appearing on a floating laptop behind the mirror—you recognize it as yours. when you walk closer and skim-read the text, you take in what it’s trying to say.

Cinderella is a folk tale with thousands of variants throughout the world. The protagonist is a young woman living in forsaken circumstances that are suddenly changed to remarkable fortune, with her ascension to the throne via marriage

wait.

“a young woman living in forsaken circumstances, having dead biological parents and having a stepparent and step-siblings who, with no reason, hate her for being her. a young woman who found remarkable fortune by magic or coincidence, maybe even fate that could ascend her to the throne or any position of power,” you mumbled out.

isn’t this just your life?

but not your life, singular. but your lives. all three that you can see on the windows previously.

you who have a stepmother and stepsisters meet beomgyu who is a stranger that sits in a position of power and you both become infatuated with each other. all three of you went to a ball to meet your respective beomgyu, a prince charming or equivalent of it.

if you followed the cinderella story you know, you know what will happen next. you have to go home by midnight, stepmother and sisters then found out about your whereabouts at the ball. the prince charming will have to find you so that you both will accept your attraction and both be married so you can live happily ever after.

happily ever after.

you peer back at the laptop expecting to see the wall of text where it’s replaced by a question.

“what is your reality, ashfool?”

you blink your eyes to arrive back at the cinema from the start of your story, scrolling the document file you open for your task as you try to find any error. nothing came onto your radar other than the abundance of ashfool written in your file.

ashfool is a story of a girl…

… then ashfool has to live with her cruel stepmother…

bewildered, you see the cd case beside the laptop you put. taking a glimpse at the case cover to find something not what you remember.

disney’s ashfool and the cartoon main protagonist wearing a gray dress instead of-

what color is her dress again?

and why does she resemble you?

you quickly open the other tabs on your browser you remember are all the resources you need to write your review and you get the same thing. ashfool replacing the word you forgot. so, you open your own letterboxd account to search for the movies with your nickname to find the list that widens your eyes.

ashfool. ashfool. an ashfool story. another ashfool story. ashfool 2: dreams come true.

all media related to ashfool has your face and beomgyu‘s face on it, through photography; drawing; animation. all of them. your breathing quickens.

you close your laptop as you hear a muffled noise not from outside, but inside the theater—something playing. you run inside the door, finding the winding cushion-covered hallway colors saturating as you stare at a movie with you on the screen, the only colored thing in the whole theater. a movie of you in what seems to be a school, mumbling about losing your mp3 player in the school’s homecoming dance, before you look away into the locker you opened as the camera focuses on beomgyu walking by. holding onto the said mp3 player.

“what is your reality, ashfool?”

your head turns to a voice calling you as you realize your stepmother sitting on one of the seats in the cinema, wearing clothes half and half of a modern and nobility dress. her glaring eyes stare towards you with a smug smile on her face. her body leans forward, eyes piercing into your soul as your heart beats faster.

“now you know that in every reality. i will always be there. your sisters will always be there. we will always be there to let you know.”

as she finished her sentence, you see her stand up before movements sound arise as you see clones upon clones of your stepmother all turn towards you.

“you don’t deserve beomgyu.”

and they all move towards you, the clone nearest to you grabbing onto your body as you pull with all your might to let go. the crowd stamped towards you as it was too late to push the clone away when you can feel the hands reaching for you, scratching your skin with all the hatred she has for you.

you don’t deserve him.

you don’t deserve your inheritance.

you tried to struggle out of the sea of bodies as you use all your abilities to climb out. pushing and pulling to find a cracking space you can push your limb out. but with every movement to your success, another hand pulls you down and your clothes shredding by the sheer force of power. all the energy flowing out of you as the volume of colorful fabrics trying to swallow your monochromatic self. your eyes clouded with tears as you just want it to stop.

please, stop.

please, stop.

the only thing for them to stop is for you to stop.

and so you stop and let yourself succumb to them. sitting in a fetal position as you sink into the sea of your stepmothers, you try to focus on your heartbeat. the pain marks on your body sting you are still clueless about what made you deserve them.

the pressure pressing on you from all sides as you cover your body and face as much as you can, tears and snot staining your skin as you do your best to rock yourself to calmness.

to put the pain subsides as you accept your demise.

“(y/n)?” you felt your body being shaken.

your breathing comes out rapidly as you shake your head, not wanting to know who called you.

you rather you don’t know than suffer.

“please…“ you heard the desperation coming from the voice.

you lift your head while still having your eyes covered by your eyelids. the eyelids shield the piercing white environment as everything that you heard becomes nothing in your ears, remnants of it floating in the air as it fades out. only the sound of faint footsteps walking closer to you is now in focus.

you felt… safe?

because of that, you slowly open your eyes. the brightness gives a sting to your eyes as it waters more to help get it away. the blurry vision makes you look before you a blurry silhouette, lines so soft it blends. rubbing the moist coming from your eyes, you can finally see it

shades of blue.

three different shades of blue on an outfit.

head lift higher, you see the faces of yourself, all crouching down and looking at you. all versions of you you’ve seen before from the windows. the regency era you wear an outfit with the lightest blue color while modern era you wear the same thing but in the darkest blue out of the three of them.

“you okay?” she said. as the other lends a hand out for you to reach. when you put your hands on your other version’s hand, you could observe how saturated you are. your skin with all the tints bled out, only leaving you in a husk of a shade of gray. standing up, you can see the three windows you saw but with all of you missing. because they’re here with you.

“did all of you know?” you asked.

“well. all of us is you.” one of them said.

“and there are more than the four of us.” another speaks as she tugs your hand in hers as the four of you walk in white space beyond the three windows you find yourself in. no mirror to be seen.

instead, they show you more windows where you and beomgyu almost kissed. all in different attires, different situations, but you recognize underneath them it has the same premise. you look at yourself and him in tight suits with fire behind the two of you. another window shows you and him having animal ears as if you are hybrids. more of you in school uniforms, hospital environment, the edge of space, a clay version. all telling the same story of you and him.

“but did you know our story is a folk tale?” you asked the other three as they turn towards you.

“as said by my professor.” one of them speaks up. “folk tale is how we communicate our culture. a story to tell. supposedly every story always came from a fact and your story indeed happened in every timeline.”

“aren’t we-“ you try to articulate. “tired doing the same thing over and over again?”

“being tormented the same way with our stepmothers in each version?” one of them said as she finished your question.

but it’s noticeable how different all of you are. how different your upbringings are. you all have the same mind, opinions, and ideology. even though you are the same person. you can read the expressions of the other you as they glance at each other, even giving nods as they all turn to you and gave you a nod, knowing you will also say it.

“this is our only way to get happily ever after.” all of you said, except you who is as grey as your fuzzy mind.

ignoring their stunned faces, you walked past windows upon windows of you and beomgyu in different times; different worlds; different parts of history; different universes; before stopping at one of them you recognized. the only one that is moving.

a small local cinema stood in between a hardware store and a pet shop. signs hanging outside with lights fluttering in and out of liveliness because of broken wires beneath them.

from the outside of the glass doors, you’re visible. leaning against a counter you stood behind, an open book of pride and prejudice by jane austen in your hand rested on top of it. you wore a white shirt tucked behind a dark blue apron.

the you from the start of a story you are reading right now.

you do remember it, right?

“we have to stop it,” you mumbled as you step back only to be greeted by the three versions of yourself you were with. you glance back to find rows and columns of you seating on the theater seats—watching the window you were just watching. their hands grab you as they pulled you to an empty seat right behind where you stand, but instead of sitting on it, the seat suddenly deforms as you are being drowned by it. white void slowly fading into black.

that’s when you see the other windows fading in and out as you are seated on a seat that they dragged you into. all of them show the same thing. the three of you you were with before walking back home from the ball.

you are running back home from the debutante ball as the clock struck midnight. fairy godmother helping you reach near to your home with the magic she helped for you and your critter friends before she fades away—her time helping you here is done. white dress torn as you walk barefoot on the dirt. holding the only glass slipper left as the other slipped from your foot as you run away to your carriage. terrified eyes trembled after being caught by your stepmother on your way out.

you are now walking back to the tavern with your drunk friends on either side of you. no meeting beomgyu and also a no to the prince as you rejected his advances. the dress being ripped as you push yourself out of the hedge maze when your mask falls as the prince is following behind you. eyes meeting your stepsister’s as the look of shock on her face crushes you before you left her to go report to your stepmother. letting out an enormous sigh as you arrived at the dark tavern where you brought them into your room before they collapsed on the floor.

you hear the vibration coming from inside your blazer as beomgyu stops his movement. the terrifying messages from your stepmother bombarding your phone before she then calls you. your hands shaking because of the tons of message notifications coming in above the unanswered call. you left beomgyu alone at the bench in panic, leaving behind your dad’s blazer on the bench to run to the nearest bus stop to go to the cinema. knowing them, they could threaten you by touching or vandalizing it if they want to as you remember the threat they've made in the past.

then, more and more windows show up as it shows you all the ways your stepmother torments you with your stepsisters. physical and mental pain occurring as you were told you were a “bad kid”, a “terrible person”, and “not deserving of nobility”. even you catch an animated version of yourself trying to get out of the room by using the force and your shoulder to the door that didn’t budge.

wait. an animated version of you from the regency era.

turning your head on the screen, you watch how school girl you is being pushed into a spaceship from the surface of the moon, leaving you there to not escape. you see yourself in what seems to be an adventurer outfit being swallowed by a haunted house as the phantom of your stepmother commands every piece of furniture to pin you up on the floor.

all of your reality seeps into each other.

the chair you sit in suddenly stops as it turns you to the side to see walls upon walls of white typographies of only two words—cinderella and ashfool—before the chair forces itself forward so you can collide with them and the other walls smash into you as words upon words swim and touches your skin. they ask you to embrace who you are, who you are fictionally is real.

you always are and always will be ashfool.

the black and white blends into the color of your greyscale body as they pressed into you. you’ve always felt that you are suffocated ever since your mother died. you don’t want to blame your father because he is your only guardian in front of the genuine nature of your stepfamily. but it just isn’t fair to know that in order for you to live happily, you have to face such torment and pain all the time.

you let your eyes close, letting your mind focus on other things instead of the words scraping your skin so they could mark you up. the vision behind your eyelids is black as the black background helps perfectly, every ash in your vision slowly dissipates as you steady your breathing.

don’t worry.

you’re okay.

there has to be something that could help you escape this cycle.

something to help you deviate.

deviate.

a shining white dot appears in your vision. no pressure coming from around you as you can now stand up. the only word that is sticking into your mind is 'deviate'.

deviate so you can reach your freedom.

deviate so you can make your own choices.

deviate so your life isn’t tied to a folk tale.

deviate so you won’t be attached to a cliché fanfiction plot.

you took a step closer to that white dot.

the steps you are taking are getting wider as you turn it from a step to a walk.

“are you really sure about this, (y/n)?” you heard your own voice calls you as your head turn to see yourself in the animated version of a cinderella dress. all you can do is nod your head as you continue forward.

“gosh (y/n) just give it up already. it’s not going to work.” another one of your voices speaks to you as you see yourself in a disco attire of wide pants and a vest. but, you turn that walk into a stride.

tens upon tens of your own voices call out to you as all of you turn up to look at yourself approaching that widening white dot in a black void. stride turn to jog. jog turns to dash. and dash turns to run, as more of you stood in front of yourself—trying to make you understand that this is how it’s going to be. that what you are doing is not going to work.

but no. you understand differently from them as you pushed them away with a strength you didn’t know you held as you are only a few steps away from the white light floating above the ground of the void. carefully stepping closer to the item as none of the other versions of you trying to stop you. you notice that the white dissipates as you met a floating glass shard. looking into one side, you see a reflection of your ashen self with no one behind you—but you glance to see other versions of you standing idle.

both of your hands reach both sides of the shard as your surroundings forms into a glass cave where asymmetry geometric shapes create mirrors so you can see yourself. well, different versions of yourself wearing something blue. in the front, back, left, right, above, and below you. the only one that shows you in ash color is the shard you hold. carefully lifting the shard to your eye line, you can see how dead you look. how terrifying your appearance is with a frown mixed with sadness from such a battle of strengths and wits.

you look like you want to quit.

you look like you are ready to leave reality.

you look like your job here is done.

glancing once more at the versions of you in the mirror-like glass wall before your reflection in the shards. you let out a smirk as only one thing came into.

you throw the shard you hold onto the glassy floor. it shattering creates a domino effect from all the glass around you. you can only let out a smile.

so, how can we deviate ourselves?

your eyes opened as you looked at the masked prince in front of you, knowing the identity of the person behind it. your hands reach to ribbons behind you as your mask falls from your face. the prince holding still as you caress his face.

“let your eyes close.” your hand moves to the mask he wears and pulls it off, throwing them to the ground.

“beomgyu,“ you whispered before leaning to connect your lips to his.

“deviating by him knowing the real you. that’s great, (y/n).” you turned beside you as you see the same you in the window as the kiss turns heated at the fountain. the mask is now in your hand as you grabbed them to hold it near you.

you looked at prince beomgyu standing before you as the string quartet stops when you heard the announcement of your stepsisters’ name as they enter the room. instead of running away, you stay still on the dance floor as your stepsisters and stepmother arrive at the balcony and you show your head held high as you face them.

the look of shock on their faces as you tighten your hand in beomgyu’s before godmother steps in to persuade you to let you go. turning around, you tell her, “let them. all of us here will see their genuine nature,“ when your stepmother quickly walks towards you, hand lifted before your vision zooms out to the window as you see yourself getting slapped. head still held high as the others scrambled to help you stay away from her.

“deviating by letting the others know how much of a monster they are. wonderful!” that you in the window said to you as she step down from her glass slippers and give you one of them, holding it in your hand.

your phone vibrates as beomgyu tries to kiss you by the river. you see the number of bombs being dropped on you as your stepmother texts you tons and tons of articles of you and beomgyu before she called you. beomgyu and you look down at the contact name and vibrating phone before you stand up and impulsively throw your phone with all of your might to the river, seeing it dropped into the water by gravity a few meters out before you turned your head to beomgyu.

“it’s a freaking long story. but do you wanna run away with me?“ a hand opens to him as beomgyu lets out a cheeky smile before he grabs them, dragging both of you away down the path into the night.

a white blazer drapes onto your shoulder as you see modern you giving a wide smile before waving a small wave as she runs away into the void.

you turn behind you to see all kinds of significant items that you left so beomgyu could find you—not needing them again as the glass shard that marks your boundaries shatters before all versions of you deviate one by one. you put them in a line on the dark void’s invisible floor, seeing an mp3 player, pointe shoes, and other sorts of stuff you collected as they’re thrown out from the windows of all of you who have deviated.

you pull out a box of matchsticks from the pile that you found. pulling a match out and lighting it up, you’ve looked at the line of the flammable items you have already in place meticulously as you approach the first one at the edge: the mask inside the glass shoes with the white blazer right beside it. you put the match on top of the mask as the flame lit it up and moved towards the blazer.

stepping back, the orange flame turns into blue as more and more items are being engulfed. more and more items that identify you as ashfool or cinderella as people outside this screen called. stepping back and breathing in, you let a wide smile grace your face. eyes looking elsewhere as you see the windows illuminated with a light blue light coming from it as you approach one of them, seeing what happened to each and all of you.

you and beomgyu were talking about the trip you are taking at the end of the social season. the fairy godmother is now gone as you are only left with your glass slippers as a gift from her. but only one thing came into your mind when you remember a proposal he spoke to you a week before.

“my apologies, beomgyu. but i can’t marry you right now.”

beomgyu, with saddened eyes, gives a nod of acknowledgment as you return home to see your stepmother and stepsisters being taken away to face the court. beomgyu, after seeing how harsh they are to you in public, has helped you with the case and your inheritance. seeing your critter friends finished helping to tidy your house up to its old glory days after you are the only resident of the land that is rightfully yours, you pack your bags and leave the town for a while, remembering what beomgyu said to you when you rejected his proposal.

“i will wait for you when you are ready because a countess needs an earl beside her and a prince needs a princess beside him.”

you and beomgyu, on the other hand, celebrated your marriage at the castle as your father’s and mother’s recipes are being faithfully done by the chefs to serve in a banquet. knowing how beomgyu and you wanted freedom out of your own outside of palace duties, you both help run the tavern as the two of waiting for the turn where he and you become king and queen.

seeing your husband from behind the counter, you laugh as you see knights teasing him when he served the drinks. though you realized how awkward he used to be, he talks to you about how rebellious he was and how he always wants to blend into the streets of his own kingdom. even mentioning how he didn’t regret going to the tavern he heard his knights have talked about by overhearing them sooner.

you and beomgyu live a peaceful life after he let you move in into his apartment away from your stepmother and stepsisters after you told him and his parents. finishing your college task together as he prepared to take his place as the ceo while the money his parents gave to you helped you improve the cinema, making you able to hire people who also like movies and wants to help expose the world of cinema—making your parents’ dream into reality.

“what the hell was that ending?” beomgyu’s surprised face makes you giggle as you both finish watching the room. you nod your head as he faces you before saying, “that’s how terrible the movie is.”

you looked at how all of you found your happy endings one by one, with or without beomgyu. but the thing you realized is that you have the freedom to pick whatever ending you like and you can sense the calm of the certainty. that calmness helps you close your eyes as you think of nothing while everything is moving around.

everything you know is right to all of you whoever perceives it as so.

-

“hey, (y/n).” something is shaking your body as you woke up from the sofa you sit on.

you looked around you to the small apartment unit you are in as you see a boy your age wearing a uniform. an outfit you also wear. an outfit for a cinema worker.

looking down at the name tag on his torso, you learn the name of your co-worker and best friend sitting beside you.

beomgyu.

“yeah…?” you rub your face as you trace the streaks of moisture on your cheeks, turning your head to the window to meet the night sky after the time both of your shifts ended.

“if you’re tired, we can skip the movie night-“

“no, i’m fine.” you held onto his upper arm as his eyes met yours, glistening with sparkles and tears collected on the corners. beomgyu slowly rubs a tear away that is threatening to fall out before he opens disney+ on his laptop placed on the coffee table, feeling a rush of warmth going to your cheeks.

“what are we watching tonight?” you asked as you stretched your arms from the tight sleep you seem to have as beomgyu scrolled the homepage down before chuckling.

“cinderella.“

your highness…

lady (y/n).

the hooded man with tied hairs.

your mother would be so proud.

if you’re asking, my dad is a filmmaker and film connoisseur.

would you be my date for the charity ball?

your head shook as you asked, “wait, what’s cinderella?”

taglist: @endzii23 @msxflower @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @stayzentiny @rebsmoonn @boba-beom @feline4txt @ifwtyun @beomgyumineiro @fluffdiaree

can’t tag: @bubblejunnies @meowchikatt @ricepill @kayalayadayla @enchantedrose @johnnysluver @xiaoting999 @010313s

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2022. all rights reserved

[s-9in]

cast: beomgyu ✗ fem.reader (ft. billlie’s haram and stayc’s sieun)

synopsis: a girl, a folktale, a boy, and a shifting reality

genre: psychological horror, folktale retelling, thriller, slow burn, drama, historical au, nobility au, regency au, medieval au, rich kid au, fantasy au, angst, fluff, a bit comedic in some parts

based on: folk tale cinderella with inspirations from video game omori (2020) and movie everything everywhere all at once (2022)

word count: 18748 (18.7k)

warning(s): unreality! (be very careful!!), child negligence, anxiety-inducing, mental breakdown, discrimination, suffocation (warning for claustrophobics !) implicit violence (no detail), a bit of suicidal tendency, a tiny bit suggestive, will be very meta in some parts, fast pace flow that might give you whiplash, unique stylistic choices (ever-changing typeface fonts and colors), slow first act that i shred into pieces as fast as lightning :] (if i forgot some, let me know!)

message from the moon: remember that this story is fiction also do be careful and read the warnings at the top + (y/f/n) = your full name. i swear i didn’t intend for this one-shot to be this long but i guess it is necessary since i wanna pull out the rug under y’all :D this one-shot is a part of the happily never after collab hosted by @soobisms and @svhnflwr so do check the other works too!! thank you so much for letting me participate in this spooky collab !!

an atmospheric playlist!!

a small local cinema stood in between a hardware store and a pet shop. signs hanging outside with lights fluttering in and out of liveliness because of broken wires beneath them.

from the outside of the glass doors, you’re visible. leaning against a counter you stood behind, an open book of pride and prejudice by jane austen in your hand rested on top of it. you wore a white shirt tucked behind a dark blue apron. the smell of popcorn cooking in the popcorn machine behind you fills the room. the theatre's door was open, but no one came in or out. no other person besides you in the small building. a small family business your father made before passing away, leaving you with your stepmother and stepsisters who don’t understand your father’s aim in creating an independent cinema. always striving to look the best while running the family’s savings out and making your household more and more in debt because of their credit cards and their low credit scores.

your father was a filmmaker, an indie filmmaker who hasn’t reached his stardom when the grim ripper took him away too young. well, it took both of your parents too young.

you were born into a family of people thinking outside of the box, your parents both practice art in their different ways, your father is the art of the visual while your mother is the art of the numbers which includes being the financing hold of the cinema you stood in today. they met during their college years and their love of stories persists to you. you always thought it’s hereditary, your love of stories, cause nurture isn’t enough to produce such love. that love holds onto you as you remembered reading to your mother your first ever story you made for a story competition for school at her deathbed when you were 8 years old. how she was always the one that tells you a story before sleeping. but because of the condition, you’ve grown up to replace her role while she becomes yours. you go back to your room in the empty house and you leave her to sleep. father is still at the cinema serving his collection of indie and old films that night, not being by her side on their shared bed. she didn’t wake up in the morning.

you’re a tough girl who has the resilience of your mother, ready to grow up without one. but your father disagrees and marries his then-middle school lover who has two daughters older than you but around the same age. he still took the cinema job seriously, and still has employees working under him while he travels away to film festivals or shoots at exotic places as his job as a filmmaker. the days when he’s gone, your stepmother and stepsisters treat you in whatever they want to treat you.

one day, father traveled to a mountainous place with waterfalls and valleys around it near the end of your middle school era. father brushes the skin below your eyes before he goes, reminiscing about how the love of his life also has dark circles resembling yours because of working too hard. he promised to bring back home footage of them and the unedited movie to you. but, he didn’t come back. all the cast and crew of the movie, along with the passengers on the airplane, got swept by the wave in the ocean, never to be found.

the will come out and all of them settled that as your stepmother is his wife, she will inherit the house and his savings. but what the lawyer gave tween you was a certificate of the cinema your biological parents built, your name written on it as the inheritor. you felt sorry that you have to let the employees know your father passed away and have to let them go for financial reasons, but the staff treats you with kindness, and almost familial love as if you are their own younger sibling who also loves cinema and untold stories as they do. your stepmother and stepsisters cannot touch nor change the cinema because they have to come to you first. you won’t let it go as it’s the only piece of your parents’ legacy in the world other than yourself.

other than taking care of a small local cinema in a one-man show, your love of stories got you to study literature. books and other forms of media are escapism for you and your parents. they showed you spielberg‘s movies like e.t. since young to grow your imagination of having an extraterrestrial friend or the sound of music when you first see julie andrews on the screen, singing in the meadow. your parents give you children’s books since you were young and you remember by the time you’re in high school, home life was a nightmare that the school library becomes your second home, going home late after class to have more time to escape rather than facing the reality of your stepmother and young adult stepsisters—not like they care you were home or not. you use the money you got from the percentage of inheritance from your father and use it to pay for your early years’ tuition for university studying literature. and you continue your parents’ dream of introducing cinema to people, sharing stories more down-to-earth than those blockbusters in the other theaters.

holding your classic novel close to your chest, you sit in your class today in your oversized, dull-looking outfit. other students around you panic as they pull out their book review from a task given by your lecturer last week while you already gave yours two days ago. you lean back in your seat as the lecturer lectures about this week’s topic, folk tales.

“we know folk tale as a story so simple that it is interpreted as fairytales for children. however, folk tale is more than that.” the lecturer speaks at the front, and the lights from the projector above them shine down on the screen behind them who is walking whilst talking.

“folk tale is a tale of folklore. folklore is an explicit way to show one’s culture and share it with other people. think of it as the greek tragedies we have learned about before, where they teach us about aspects of life and nature through the challenges faced by gods and men. folklore is like that but purely made by humans to show one’s expression and one’s belief. it is shown through proverbs, legends, and what we are learning today: folk tales.”

you’ve known folk tales before from the children’s books you’ve read that might be too harsh to tell children. maybe because you read the brothers grimm version, but you understand they make it scarier as a cautionary tale for the kids in their time since danger and risks are everywhere than today where technology can help prevent them. so when your lecturer told the class to pick one folktale to make a review of, your mind goes blank.

yet, deep down, you felt a certain story you want to choose. you have to write them down for the lecturer before anyone does.

you fast-walk to the lecturer who sits at the desk in front, a paper with written names of your classmates and the tale they picked beside it. you skim down the list, letting out a sigh of relief before you wrote the name of the folk tale.

cinderella.

closing the front doors of the small cinema, you meet the night sky of the town. you walk towards the bus stop, skyscrapers shining a few blocks down. your parents didn’t predict this but the cinema now rests near the area of wealthy people, where conglomerate lives and works at. the capitalist nature of them stranded the local business that is made by passionate people, in favor of something they are used to that costs much more than what you have. your eyes glance towards the passing apartment building you know children of conglomerates live to separate from their parents since it’s near the university you go to, while the bus you are in goes past it and towards the outskirts where the middle-low income lives.

after you put down your shoes outside the front door, you step inside your well-looking house with expensive pieces of furniture and the newest, trending tech devices. well, you went past it to climb to the second floor and to the end of the hallway where a doorknob exists if you look closely enough. the door's color camouflages with the surrounding wall. a creak coming from the door being open, you climb up and arrive at the rooftop of the house, a little nook in the attic for a hermit like you.

you set down your bag as you grab your sleeping clothes before going back down to the bathroom at the back of the house which you’re allowed to use to clean and freshen yourself, hoping none of your sisters nor your mother wakes up right now. the cold water creates chills on your skin as it’s nearly an hour until midnight when you went home, you moved past the dirty kitchen with dirty dishes beside the sink, knowing the other people living in this house know you and your willingness to clean their mess—because you learned the hard way when you said no, the distinct sting forming on your cheek.

climbing back up to your attic, you open the laptop you own since the start of high school. you search for cinderella on wikipedia when you scroll to see different versions of them that existed in this world. from french to brothers grimm, to rodgers and hammerstein and disney. as you read the descriptions of them, they all told the same story.

specks of dust cover the corners of the attic as the candle you lit up flatters from the melting wax, the wick cannot hold more before you blow the flame away, a bit of the dust flung from your gush. the moon staring at you from outside of the window as you rest on the mattress on the floor, your eyes droop as your mind can only think one thing.

a girl with an awful family goes to a ball and meets a man. she left something behind so he could find her. all of them end the same, no matter light or dark, to earn a happily ever after.

-

something pecks the skin of your arm.

humming a low note, your eyelids open to a silhouette in front of you. a small creature right beside you.

you heard the chirping become more prominent as the silhouette fills up with color.

a blue bird tilts its head as it looks at you.

“oh, good morning,” you mumble before hearing more chirps around. that’s when you sit up on your bed and look to see the small critters you considered your friends.

“good morning to all of you.” the small critters climb up to your sheets and give a small hug to your covered calves, the birds leaning their feathered head to you while the rats’ small limbs give a ticklish sense that wakes you up. you view outside your small tower to find the sun has risen above the horizon before the muted sound of a bell ringing echoes down the stairs.

your body reacts as you prepare yourself for the day, telling the critters to help you in putting the ingredients for today’s breakfast in the kitchen. in contrast, you prepare yourself, changing from a sleeping gown to one of the abundance of white dresses you own for the outfits you wear every day. feet step down from the small tower that is your room and an inventory for your household, you meet the refreshing breeze and green scenery of the backyard of your estate. quickly, you grab the white apron of yours and start cooking for breakfast. your friends help you grab the ingredients while you cut them up, putting them all together as you make breakfast for the sweet tastebuds.

as you put the unfinished cake onto the large oven area of the kitchen, you flap the fire using a fan to increase its burn. but ashes come and stain your white outfit, though you are used to it by now. the grey of ash and dust with the smell of smoke is a thing that you and the people in the house associated with yourself. after finishing adjusting the fire, you pour the hot water into the teapot on the tray at the top of the wooden table along with the ceramic cups. your friends scrambling around the kitchen to help you put cutleries on the tray before the bell is ringing again, now clearer as it hangs beside the exit of the kitchen.

you lift the tray with both hands, mumbling a small “thank you” to the critters as you walk to the dining table from the dirty kitchen. you go through the house's hallways as carefully as you can and arrive at the dining table to see your stepmother on the edge of the dining table, looking imposingly at you coming.

“what took you so long?” her elegant voice calls to you as you set the three cups on her side and two sides beside her, pouring each of them their tea leaves and hot water.

“i’m making a chiffon cake for breakfast, mother.” your small voice sounded as you look to see the two empty seats beside her. it’s not weird for them to wake up later in the morning. so you spoke, “do you want me to wake them?”

“no, focus on breakfast.” mother said before sniffing the surrounding air, looking down at your grey-colored clothing because of the ash.

“oh ashfool. go back to the kitchen…” after giving a small nod, you return to your cooking. pulling out from the oven and putting the delicious chiffon cake that is your late mother’s recipe onto the large plate, fresh fruits and jams all around it with small plates to serve the delicacy. the rats that help you wash their hands with the drops of water from the tap before you return to the dining room to see that your stepsisters have woken up and sipped their tea.

“thank you, (y/n).” the younger of the sisters said in a nasally way as you put the contents on the tray to the dining table. meanwhile, the older gives a smug smile before you give a small nod and walk to the corner of the room where a chair sits. your designated chair.

your gaze moves from the women at the table to the interior of your childhood home. from the memories of your mind, you can remember being in that exact spot with your own father and mother: the earl and countess of the house and the land surrounding it. then, mother fell into an illness and passed away. father then remarries, making the house of the earl and his daughter into a home of an earl, a countess with two titles that she got from her deceased husband who is also an earl, and three ladies from two separate lineages, with you being the youngest. father died on his way home outside of the town known for the roses. he promised you a bouquet of it when he returns home, but he never did because his aide comes to your home and tells you the devastating news.

it is almost an instinct that when your father died, the other women start to ridicule you and not include you in affairs. even if your father remarry, he still had a soft spot towards you rather than his wife and stepdaughters—maybe because you are his blood and bone. you are also a lady in this home—the only lady of your house who is still alive, but they pushed your status down the river and make you the caretaker of the house instead, while they take advantage of the lands your family owns from your great-great-grandfather that are handed down by hereditary.

as you eat the leftover meal from yesterday’s dinner, you overhead the women at the table speaking about the upcoming debutante ball that is happening in a few days for the social season this year. many names of other gentlemen are mentioned, but not many do you recognize. the ones that you don’t. you heard your name being called by your older sister as you stood and walk towards them, seeing the leftover cake which earns you a small smile to know you can at least taste your cooking.

you tidy the cutleries up onto the tray when you picked up, “what about (y/n)?” as it comes out from the younger of the sisters. you always realized that although all of them behave cruelly towards you, she is much tamer than the other two. probably because she is calmer and a few years older than you, she sometimes considers you in their conversations.

“she’s also a lady. isn’t the more debutantes we have, the more chances we can get for a wealthy, high-status husband?” you paused your movement before turning around. you’ve always heard about the debutante ball and the social season, carriages of high-status people walking in and out from the path in your land to arrive at the balls that are organized for this season. your parents used to take you in those balls back when you were a child, remember the men and women older than you debut themselves so they can find suitors, getting you to meet the other children of earls, marquees, and dukes that you’ve now forgotten because of the isolation.

“no, she can’t join us.” mother speak in a stern voice. “i don’t want to take care of her card when i already have the two of you. besides, she is the caretaker of our home. you do know your position, right ashfool?” your head lifted as she talks to you. all the suppression you had for you to retaliate is rushing down your blood, but you perceive it as an unladylike feature.

“i do, mother.” you gulped down your saliva. feeling the tension released but sadness overcome your emotion as you missed the festivity you had as a child. bringing back to live your life as a hermit that you think even the people outside of this house don’t know that you exist. the name, maybe, but not your being.

“ooh, i want to request a rotisserie chicken for dinner tonight.” the older of the sisters said before you return to clean off the dust that accumulates in the house this morning after cleaning the plates. you give a small nod and left the women themselves. at once after turning the corner, you listen to their snickers as they talked about you and your dirty, ash-covered clothing, how you won’t be a debutante, and if you do, no one will ever recognize or approach you.

later in the afternoon, you pick up a basket by the door of the kitchen as you go to the front gate of your home to go to the marketplace in the middle of the town. you found out there is no chicken meat left at home and that you have to buy in the market far from where you are. closing the gate, you walk on the path and examine the large land of yours and your ancestor’s estate as you go past.

you remember hearing your father say to your mother how with land that size, they could teach you whatever they want. they always wanted to teach you how to ride a horse so it’s easier for you to travel than hire a carriage service. but, after your mother passed and stepmother replace her, she forbids the house to have a stable for horses as she doesn’t want her children to do such unladylike behavior. it was the only decision that she has included you in her consideration. other than that, she ignores you and belittles you behind your father’s back. instead, you took care of stray animals that are there ever since she passed. your actions of giving them food and not bothering them earn your little friends, as you liked to call them. you’ve always been able to understand animals and they seem to understand you too.

birds whose chirping you recognize follow behind you as you stride down the empty path for horses and carriages. you could sense the breeze blowing between the trees as you can get a small glimpse of a rooftop of a large building on the edge of the horizon. the royal family’s castle near the center of the town. you pass a few houses of other marquees, earls, and dukes that are scattered on the road when rustling came from the trees beside you. ears piqued as you turn your head to the side.

“easy…” you heard a low voice fading closer as the leaves and bushes shakes. body retreating towards the other edge of the road…

“AHH!”

gravity pulls you back as you discover the neighs of a horse that just burst out of the forest onto the dirt track. its front hooves rise before the horse falls on its legs erect, standing in front of you. you watch the rope being pulled from the side of the mane as a view of a figure sitting on the saddle, making the horse face the way you are going. a hand reaches for the mane, caressing it while they calm them down in almost a whisper with indistinct words.

you look up to see a man around your age in the brightest white shirt you’ve seen. the breeze blows as you try to get up, which makes his hair floats also. your grunts make his head incline towards you.

“oh!” he exclaimed. his short brown hair covered his forehead as you successfully stand up. from beneath the horse, you can see that a pair of legs landed before walking behind it. you view the man and your mind immediately thought about him being one of the sons of barons, earls, or dukes in this land. the finest man you have ever seen in a long time. even the aura of your father exudes from him, but more playful.

“are you alright?” the man said as you brushed your dress that has faded dirt stains on it.

“my apologies. rocky here got startled by a bird flying in front then he went off course.” you give a nod before looking at the horse who is staring at you, sadness in its eyes. you walk to the front and gently open your palm that is not holding the basket in front of its nose, which it sniffles before its ears moved to the side, giving a soothing gesture as it relaxes.

“i forgive you,” you spoke to the horse and then looked at the man who lets out a small smile. feeling the awkwardness in the air as you took glances at each other.

“i should go.” you give a small nod and turn your body toward the road.

“wait.” you paused in taking your first step. “are you going to walk to the end of the road?” the man’s questions make you face him again. his eyes show an apologetic look.

“i‘m visiting the marketplace.” you nudged your empty basket forward.

“let me bring you there, miss…”

“(y/n). my name is (y/n).” your vision looks at the horse, who is flinging its tail around as it listens to both of you conversing. you’ve never interacted with a stranger before, but him just openly asking you to let him bring you to your destination was something almost fictional. you can’t believe someone as nice could exist. the legs that are holding you up are tensing from the amount of walking as the fatigue spreads and now reaches your brain to signal.

“i- don’t you have any other destination you want to go to?”

“not really. i was riding around on rocky to sightsee. trying to find some freedom.” the man said as you took a closer step toward him.

“and how should i trust you, mister?”

“beomgyu.” the man said his name as he breathed out, making his shoulders slump in relaxation. beomgyu.

“mister beomgyu.” you give a nice small smile as you see his eyes widen before wandering around the frame of the forest he is in with you, supposedly thinking of something.

“i’ve already hurt you and i supposed this could help me repay it.” beomgyu voiced as he nods his head, letting himself trust his words. you hummed before you stare up at the saddle on the horse.

“i can say that i’m not that hurting but I would love it,” you replied to his request before he beams a smile toward you before you step closer to the horse’s body. as you try to figure out how to climb the horse with the basket, you tilt your head in confusion. that is when you felt a pull from it and something touches your shoulder. turning your head to find beomgyu behind you.

“let me help,” he speaks as he puts your basket on the ground. he guides you where to put your feet on the saddle and hands before putting his hands near your waist in case you fall as you heave up on the horse. your dress lifts until above your knee before you smooth it down, holding onto the back of the horse as you perceive it move slightly beneath you. beomgyu gives you your basket then does the same as he climbs to sit in front of you, giving a small command to rocky as the horse walks down the path.

“i’ve never heard of you before.” the man talks as his head turns towards you while you move closer so you can talk and he could understand you.

“well, i supposed you don’t need to,” you replied. beomgyu lets out a chuckle.

“someone as beautiful as you must have to be the talk of the town.” your eyes widen as your face gets warm from the blood flowing, nudging his arm playfully as giggles erupt from him.

“thank you, uh, i guess.”

“your guess is right.” he looks forward to the road as more of the rooftop of the castle is more visible than before. the marketplace near it is now closer than ever.

“the social season is upon us.” beomgyu breaks the silence.

“ah, yes.”

“if i haven’t seen you it means that you haven’t had your debut yet?” the man tilts his head as you can sense rocky’s behind getting jumpier than you like it, making you lean closer to him with your hand on his side, the basket pressing to your body.

“well, i haven’t and i don’t think of going this year.”

“why not?”

you let out a small smile, “i supposed it’s not my right to be there. i’m,” you shook your head. “i’m a child of nobody.” yet, you are a child of somebody, but the demeaning comments made by the lady in the house make consider as not one of them. sadly, no one cannot be by your side to defend you either.

“but i want to meet you there.” you lock into eye contact with him as your hand lands on his waist after moving the basket to rest on top of your thigh. you let out a small chuckle.

“that would not be necessary. i assume you are a child with influential parents, by the looks of you being able to own a horse, have to be there?”

“well, you got me.” you and he let out a giggle as you can now find more roads branching out from the road you are on. “my mother wants me to find a wife. i always ask her to wait but now with the ball, she seems as if she can’t wait any longer.”

“i do hope you find the right person.”

“but i want to be with you. especially right now. i rather be here with you than at that fancy ball. it is…” you can see beomgyu’s smile, making you lean closer and view the side of his face clearly as he turns to look forward. “i’ve never felt so free.”

his words resonated with you. this is the first time that you ever felt this free, walking outside to enjoy the scenery with someone who is feeling what you are too right now. beomgyu is a stranger to you, but what you are having with him is something more.

something familiar.

-

“another two mugs of beer, please.”

“coming.”

you grabbed the drying clean wooden mugs on the table and walk to the barrel that sits sideways, twisting the tap as the beverage pours out in a dash as the liquid becomes foamy. you see your friend, haram, navigate the aisle between the customer to place down each food sieun, your other friend, is making in the kitchen. haram walks past you as she goes to pick up other plates of dishes made, she points towards the table where the people who ordered sits. you walk and let out a smile on your face as you put the mugs down in front of the two men who are eating roast meat, their waves of laughter combined with the others in the tavern.

“thank you, beautiful.” one of them said as they give you flirty eyes. you give a nod and go back to your station behind the counter as fast as you can. you still can’t believe how your mother can keep up such manners and emotion for a long time while doing her work. so elegant yet meticulous at the same time.

your parents always love to cook and they created a tavern together. a small quaint tavern in the middle of town where anyone can be here to get away from any work they’re doing in the day. you grow up assessing the bustling business from both your father’s kitchen and mother’s counters, that is until she passed away from a dangerous plague you’ve also caught. you knew you wanted to say by her side for the longest time as you isolate yourself with her when you both caught the illness, even if it means leaving the world together at such a young age. but someone somewhere made a change of plan for you as you live to survive, watching your father marry a neighbor of his who is a widow with two daughters around your age.

back in your home, your father always loves to make new recipes for the family if he receives new ingredients from his farmer friends. but, your stepmother always dislikes what he does. she doesn’t enjoy seeing a man in the kitchen as she always told him to pursue a more ‘masculine’ career like sieun’s father, who is a blacksmith. his love of food persist until he died because the kingdom drafted him into a war with the neighboring kingdom. because he passed prematurely, the only one who can work for the tavern is you. since after you finished your education that you don’t have any work to do or any suitor for you, you invited both of your friends to work with you at the tavern.

you taught haram how to serve customers, being the person who can help her release her stress and emotions toward you. then you taught sieun your father’s recipe as she wants to be the cook—you know she can do her part perfectly when she told you about being near sharp objects and heat. you take the role that was your mother’s and the manager of the tavern altogether, still in contact with your father’s friends as suppliers for the business. it is weird to hear a woman as a business owner, but because haram’s mother, a dressmaker, also owns a business, she helps you in managing all these things.

your stepmother doesn’t enjoy seeing you succeed independently. so with the power of her being married to your father before he passed, she demands you to give 1/3 cut of the profit every month that was supposed to help in your supplies and making the tavern better. you cannot deny her as much as you want to because if you are, words of disgust will spread around you that if you cannot respect your parent, you cannot respect your customer either. ironically, she and her daughters can’t respect you even though they live in your father’s home and not theirs. as a result of that, you let yourself live in a spare room of the tavern as you don’t want to be connected to them once again. you don't want them to treat you like a servant when you return to your own house.

as you dry the clean mugs, eyes on the open space full of people where someone is playing the lute, the entrance opens as a cloaked figure comes in. the cloak is raggy, almost trailing the wooden floor and even though they’re inside, they aren’t dropping their hood. people who wore something similar to this are most of the time travelers or maybe fugitives, but it doesn’t matter to you as you are here trying to survive. voices muffled and the tunnel vision you got on the cloaked figure makes you didn’t aware of something slamming in front of you. you twist your head to the sound to catch a man mumbling his words, trying to enamor you for free beer. all you can do is shake your head and say “no” while furrowing your eyebrows. as fast as the air travels, you see a glint of light slice the air while finally noticing that he’s wearing armor on his figure, pointing his shortsword at you. a knight.

both of your hands raised as you step back, slamming your bosom against the cabinet behind you as the knight’s voice penetrates the air and even the melody of the lute at the back. you look at haram’s shocked face as she walks to the knight.

“please, sire. we can finish this calml-"

“NO. THIS WOMAN HERE HAS” he hiccuped while pointing towards you. “has insulted me and-“

“stop!”

your head turns toward the source of the unknown voice. eyebrows raised to see the cloaked figure that enters the tavern right next to the knight. the knight in a face full of rage turns his body to face the figure before his face fell. “your h-“

“you are clearly too drunk to act. i suggest you go back to your quarters wherever it is.” the figure said wisely. because of it, the knife seem to sober up for a bit and retracted the shortsword back into its hilt on his body. he looks between you and the figure.

“m-my apologies.” the knight mumbles before scurrying away. haram’s gaze follows the knight before turning towards you, communicating through your eye contact as you give a small nod so she can continue doing her work. you then turn your head towards the cloaked figure as they let out a sigh.

“thank you.” you quickly gather yourself and pour one of the clean mugs a beer for the figure. you gently slide the filled-up mug to them as they looked down at it.

“it’s on us,” you tell them so they don’t have to pay. the figure’s shoulders slump before they sit down on the barstool.

“thank you,” they replied before pulling their hood off. a man with the upper part of his black hair tied to the back and the ragged robe he wears hides an expensive-looking outfit beneath it. a few seconds to study their face is enough for your eyebrows to rise.

you recognize that face. you’ve seen that face before.

“a traveler?” you asked, trying to subside your suspicions about the person because the face is too familiar to your liking.

“not exactly.”

“fair enough,” you replied as haram sends a message to prepare more mugs of beer as the lute continues to play now with the violin singing along.

“what brings you here, sire?” you put the mugs on the counter as haram picks them up and serves them to the tables.

“i’m scouting the town. everything felt new to me,” he said as he take a sip of the beer you served him.

“i thought you are not a traveler.”

“i-“ he paused as you turn your view somewhere else, hoping that could help him speak comfortably. “what i meant by ‘not exactly’ is that i live near the outskirts of town. i’ve never been in town before, especially at my age because i have so much to do.”

you nod your head, but your critical mind makes you think back on the clothes underneath the robe. “you must be a wealthy man then, sir. wearing such clothes beneath such a dirty robe.”

your comments earned a surprised look on his face as his mouth opens, trying to answer your questions. “i’m here visiting to attend the masquerade ball.”

the masquerade ball is the ball that the royal family has made in celebration of the prince’s birthday. though you recognize the king and queen, you never knew the prince as he is always so hidden or it is because his parents didn’t allow him to interact with peasants like you and your friends. the royals prepare this ball so that the prince can find himself a wife as he is around your age. a bachelor in need of a partner so they can rule this kingdom together. so it’s weird that even with such a close-off prince, the family still invited all the bachelorettes who don’t have a man to come so the prince can find the right suitor, all wearing masks so their inner self shines instead to make the prince interested. you didn’t plan on going but you sure know your stepmother and stepsisters do.

“understandable.” you give a small smile as you rub the rug you’re holding to clean up the liquids on the counter that are remaining.

“do you intent to go to the ball?” his question earns a short giggle from you as you shook your head.

“why should i go? i mean, look at me.” you open your arms so that he can study your dusty-colored dress underneath your brown apron because you always stayed by the ashes of the fire to see your father cook. even now as you and sieun talk about making new recipes in the kitchen. you aren’t called ashfool by your stepmother if it weren’t for it.

“someone like me could not be a suitor for a prince.”

“but aren’t you tired of the cycle you have to go to?” he presses on.

yes, you are tired. but it’s what you need to survive.

“the ball going on at night time is bad for me, especially if i leave the tavern to my friends. the tavern is always full at night.” you sigh before looking somewhere else than him. “it sure sounds fun.”

“and i enjoy your company here with me.” the man said as you face him as fast as you can. “we could talk more at the party if you come.”

you let out a chuckle as you turn to see haram raises a pointer finger towards you so you can grab a mug and fill it up from the barrel behind. though there are barstools where you are working, nobody seems to care enough to interact with you, and this man is the first one. so when you heard he enjoys your company with him, something flutters inside you.

“i’ll try my best. if i could find the right dress and mask since the ball is in a few days.” you give a warm smile as he replicates it on his own. “you sure have a promise you have to fulfill, sir…”

“it’s beomgyu. and i make sure i’ll fulfill that promise.”

-

the thick cable of your laptop charger rested beside it, plugged. having such an old model means the battery is so bad it is leaking and you don’t have enough disposable income to repair or even fix it. your task for the folk lore paper about cinderella is around a third done as you don’t have any other things to do while multitasking. you eat the leftover salty popcorn you made last time—even you can say it sickens you, though it’s your favorite snack to eat.

your sticky fingers make you rub them on the blue apron you’re wearing, seeing it being stained by the grease before it’s dry enough for you to write again in your document, finding the right words to write with the multiple tabs talking about cinderella opened on the browser. with a theater to yourself, you prepare to watch the cartoon disney’s cinderella near the end of your shift, closing it early as if anyone wants to come to visit, anyway.

you glance at the cd case of disney’s cinderella beside the laptop as your hand grabs another popcorn while you read back on what you are writing, knowing you have to proofread it again so the words don’t come out weird. that’s when you hear a grunt and footsteps as the traffic sounds enter the cinema with you in it for the first time. a figure walking before the glass door closes. a man with boyish manners who is around your age enters as he comes and approaches you. he has brownish with a red undertone colored haired and mullet that falls to his nape, wearing a blouse and leather pants that you figure out cost so much.

as the man comes closer, you can’t help but see his face.

wait.

didn’t you see him before?

the face is so familiar.

and you can only pair one name with this face.

“beomgyu?”

“of course, you know me.” he said in an exasperated way before standing in front of the counter, agitated. “okay. sorry. i, i need someplace to hide.” he replies before looking straight at you, eyes meeting with an intense stare.

“why-“

“i’ll tell you everything. any place to hide?” beomgyu looks behind to the glass doors before turning back.

“i- well- you can hide behind the counter underneath the cashier.” you point towards the counter beside you as you let beomgyu walk to your side and sit with his back against it. the counter is fully made of wood, unlike the display case you stood in front of with the lights off because what should you display when no one comes? well, beomgyu did. you looked down at beomgyu who is calming himself down before the sudden sound of traffic enters again as a large man enters the room and walks towards you imposingly.

“excuse me, miss. have you seen choi beomgyu?” the man asks.

your eyes widen before you unconsciously let out a pout. is he that important of a person that someone is trying to find him? is this man someone he knows? or is this man someone dangerous and is beomgyu’s opponent?

“i- no. i haven’t seen choi beomgyu and i don’t know who he is, actually.”

“i see. thanks.” he turns around to walk the entrance before pausing. you’re glad that you didn’t let your vision leave him.

“how much is a small serving of popcorn?” the man asked before turning around and walking back to the counter.

“you want popcorn?” you squint your eyes at him.

“i’ve been running after mr. choi. i also need a snack, alright?” the man—exasperated—says as you give a nod, glancing at beomgyu for a split second to catch him looking at you before turning around and preparing the serving for the popcorn. receiving the heat from the machine, you close the lid again and walk to put the popcorn on the counter as the man is opening his wallet. you glance down at beomgyu as you gesture with your hand in a dash so he can move to the side and stand in front of the cashier. as he scoots, he accidentally hit the wooden material.

“ack.”

“what was that?” the man lifts his head as he looked at you, who is already preparing a painful expression on your face.

“it’s me. accidentally hit the cabinet, hehe.”

the man gives you the money and grabs the popcorn, “hope you have a good business today.” he said before leaving.

“yeah, i hope you find him,” you said back as the glass door closes before you slump your hand on the counter. you heard the giggle from beomgyu’s corner as he stands up beside you. “it’s your fault.” you glare at him.

“i know, but i didn’t expect my bodyguard to just order popcorn.” he continues laughing as you rolled your eyes, back to your laptop to do your task. you sense another body getting closer to you as you glance at him, blinking your eyes.

“(y/n), huh?” you received his mumble as you see him look at the screen of your laptop on the first page where your name is written. you hummed as a reply.

“this is a cinema?” he asked as he looked around. you let another hum of agreement.

“local cinema. a family business.”

“any interesting movie you play? blockbusters like the mcu movies or just newly released ones?”

“not really.” you lift your shoulders as you reply. “the movies we have are the ones that released the latest a year prior. we have all kinds of blockbusters there and also old ones like star wars episode 4 and jaws.“

“isn’t it just watching it on tv?” you let out a chuckle at his question.

“do you watch movies on your tv anymore? or do you use your laptop to open a streaming service to view it?”

“heh, touché.” his answers make you laugh as you can’t focus on your writing. he joins in too. you felt the sense of familiarity when you are with him, a connection from beneath you slowly rising.

“if you’re asking, my dad is a filmmaker and film connoisseur. he made a local cinema so indie movies can air their movies here and we can show people more movies from the old ones to obscure ones here unlike the theaters you know. we made money but occasionally, specifically the room night when we played the room by tommy wiseau, and people just flocking in. but day-to-day business, yeah it is this empty.” you emphasized the last two words as beomgyu looked at you who are pouting your lips. his eyes move to the cd case beside your laptop.

“what’s that doing here?”

“something to check out for my uni paper. doing a task about the cinderella folktale.”

“ahh…” beomgyu paused, “when are you watching it?”

“later probably?”

“can we watch it now?” your creases folded.

“you wanna watch it now?”

“yeah. i could give another opinion to be added to your paper.”

maybe another voice of opinion can help make your paper better as only a one-sided opinion can’t highlight the richness of the story.

“sure.” you agree.

beomgyu’s eyes lighten up as he requested drinks for both of you and a bucket of popcorn, which he promised he will pay double the actual price. you roll your eyes before a smile shows on your face as you guide him to the open theater door of the cinema, letting him walk into the small hallway full of soundproof walls your dad made into the small cinema which only comprises ten columns that are in a slope and five rows to the side, walk away on both left and right. both of you picked the seats right in the middle. you moved back to the entrance of the lobby room and turned the ‘open‘ sign to ‘close‘ and locked the door as you don’t anyone coming into the cinema without your supervision.

foot stepping on the carpeted floor as you go to the projector room and put the cd in the dvd player, the light dims from the small window from the room after you press the button. as the grandiose 1950s orchestra plays to the intro of the movie, you fast-walk to your seat beside beomgyu. he rested his bucket of popcorn in the middle while your drinks are on the other side of you two. you let out your breath as you see the book open and introduce the prologue of the story. the story of a young girl of a widowed gentleman who married his second wife with her two daughters. the man died and the wife’s true nature comes out where she is jealous of the young girl while always forwarding her and her daughters’ interests.

Thus, as time went by, the chateau fell into disrepair, for the family fortunes were squandered upon the vain and selfish stepsisters, while Cinderella was abused, humiliated, and eventually forced to become a servant in her own house. And yet, through it all, Cinderella remained ever gentle and kind, for with each dawn she found new hope that someday, her dreams of happiness would come true.

a white space you are in.

a rectangle window shows a scene of you and beomgyu sitting down in the theater watching the movie now in front of you.

yes, you.

you looked at the other windows that are surrounding you as you look at yourself in three different states.

buying something in the marketplace.

cleaning tables in the tavern.

watching a movie with a man.

the same man you met in all three instances.

as you looked down on yourself, you’re wearing a flowy blue dress that dances the air yet no wind is present here. hands open in front of you as you see the tint in your skin slowly fading. yes, the tint of the blue of fading away too. saturated. turning gray.

like ash.

ash…

“ashfool!”

you turn your head to see your stepmother who is now wearing a floor-length light purple dress by the open door of your house. your stepsisters climbing into the carriage that is taking them to the debutante wall with their white dresses that contrast the last of the setting sun behind them. blinking your eyes to gather yourself up, you turn to look at your stepmother and give a small “my apologies.” for letting your mind wander away.

but it felt like someone is watching you.

“take care of the house. clean the floor of our rooms. we will arrive after midnight so i want you to prepare tea.” you nod along the way as she rambles, walking down the step of the patio of the home as you lean against the door, already closing half the door away. as the door of the carriage closes, you said “take care.” before the carriage strides away and you push the door close.

you listen to the footsteps approaching behind you as you lean your head against the door. turning around, you view the magic and sparkly presence of your fairy godmother you met two days ago. seeing her holding a beautiful white dress and pair of gloves with accented blue accessories for your hair and a pair of glass slippers she handcrafted only for the size of your feet.

after beomgyu and you part ways outside of the marketplace because he has to go back home, you bought everything you needed for the rotisserie chicken your stepsister requested before going back home on your feet. as you arrived, made dinner for them after they have gotten home from whatever they are doing. while you clean the dishes up and prepare yourself to rest for the night, you realize light coming from a garden and a yelp outside. your curiosity makes you move to meet a lady sitting on the ground; in a glitter dress that reflects the moonlight, around the age of what your mother is supposed to be if she is alive.

she introduced you as your fairy godmother as you squint your eyes in confusion. but it changes when you recalled her saying, “your mother bestowed me to protect you.”

that night, you talked to her as if you are talking to your parents again: openly and enthusiastically. you mentioned how sad you are the past few years and mention the man you met earlier in the day. the mention of the debutante ball she hears makes her react happily as you watch her rambling about what kind of dress you have to wear for the ball. yet, you stopped her as you don’t want to pressure her to get you to go.

“aren’t you excited to see your prince?”

“he’s not my prince, and he’s also not a prin-“

“i can consider that boy to be like that for you.” as she touches your nose with her pointer finger, sparkles come from them.

yesterday is the most hectic day in your entire life as you have to take care of the house and the occupants while also your new guest. even though she wanted to help you with her magic, you always deny her as you want to do your job on your own. your critter friends also want to join the special occasion as the fairy godmother gives a spell to them that makes them talk. for the first time, you hear your friends talk and interact with you more than they did before—more dynamic especially as you can assign their voices to each other. you listen as your fairy godmother asks request for them to be your butlers and horses and they agree—wanting to make you happy as your eyes glisten from hearing their intentions.

looking at the mirror in your tower, you see yourself in the white dress that is a staple for a debutante ball but the blue accessories give a difference to you that could help you slightly stand out, making you remember the different flower colors on your stepsisters’ hairs. you look at fairy godmother appearing behind you wearing a blue dress similar to your accessories holding a fan for the dance card, looking at the reflection of you proudly as her hands caress your upper arms.

“your mother would be so proud,” she muttered as you have tears glistening in your eyes, feeling the vast happiness from your heart as the pain subsides for a moment.

as you walk down the tower, you find a carriage made of pumpkin—that doesn’t resemble a pumpkin at all—that fairy godmother got from the inventory with a few of your critter friends turning into butlers and horses. you give a smile to them as godmother walks into the carriage and guides you inside.

“we have to arrive there early so stepmother won’t catch us.” you voice out to her.

“sure, dear.” she flicks her wrist as you heard yelping from outside and a rush of winds and the trees move fast as the carriage lands on the road with more streetlamps on the side. the bustling crowd of the town is fading in as fairy godmother whispers to the horses to follow the other carriages to the castle.

you can see outside the many carriages that carry other debutantes lining up from the small window at the front of the carriage, the door being open by the butlers at the main entrance. sweat forming on your palms as you rub them against your covered knees before your godmother puts her hand on yours, smoothing it down with her thumb as you look at her and catch a glimpse of your mother for a few frames of time. you smile as you took a huge breath when you see the butler arrives at the door of the carriage and open it. the man’s hand opens to help you stand up and step down from the carriage where you watch other people walking to the door. your godmother stood beside you as she escort you to the entrance with the others, no sign of your stepmother and stepsisters, no sign of beomgyu.

every debutante is to be introduced when they arrive and enter the main room where the queen and her son are stationed. you just learned that the son is also debuting this season from godmother as you are preparing to go the day before. the queen wants to find the right partner for him. you notice a sparkle coming from the godmother beside you as you walk near the announcer—a name and title showing up at the bottom of the list when godmother steps up and points your name. as the door opens, you held your head high, introducing yourself to the bustling crowd.

“lady (y/f/n) of house (l/n).”

though you are on top of the staircase, you felt almost everyone turning their heads towards you, their stare piercing into you. godmother beside you as she guides you down the flight of stairs; meeting the eyes of boys and girls your age, their maternal figures that chaperone them, and a throne at the end of the hall elevated. the queen sat in the middle with the small yet luxurious seat beside hers. a man stood in front of it, eyes focused on you. the prince.

it seems weird to know that the mothers of the sons go to your godmother who is surrounded by them asking for a place in your card that she holds when your eyes are looking only at one spot. the steps coming from your glass slippers seem to ring in your ears louder than the crowd itself as it opens in front of you as they look between you and the prince. your eyebrows lifted as the prince walks down from the throne beside his mother’s, their facial features much more prominent. medals hanging on their torso as you see the familiar smile on their face.

beomgyu.

when he steps in front of you, you curtsy as best as you can after having not curtsy for a long time because of your isolation. “your highness…” you mumbled.

beomgyu looks at you as you return to your position. a hand gently takes yours as you watch him leaning down to kiss your covered hand. “lady (y/n).”

you let out a small smile as you can receive godmother’s voice approaching you. “dear, i didn’t get the names because i want to consult with you fi- ohh your highness.” you glance beside her to watch her curtsy.

“you can rise,” beomgyu mutters as you looked behind him to see the queen stepping up to walk behind him as you and everyone near her presence curtsy.

“your majesty.” you acknowledge her presence before raising your head. her chuckle in the most elegant and ethereal way you’ve ever heard.

“i supposed my son here wants to write in your card?” the queen asks towards beomgyu as he gives a nod. you look at godmother, pupils trembling in your eyes as you don’t know what to answer, recalling your practice session last night with her after a long time of not dancing. you wanted to curse on whoever put so many dance styles in one ball and the need to learn all styles. so as a bargain between you and her, you only wanted to do one dance, and it’s only with beomgyu if you met him. with the revelation of him being the prince, the burden grows.

“of course, we would love to.” godmother said beside you as she puts the name on your card while you look sheepishly at him, who is wearing a beautiful suit. that was when you picked up the string quartet playing from the corner as people went to the edge of the room and left the middle spacious for all the dancers.

“may i, my lady?” beomgyu gently speaks as he opens his hand to you. you were holding your breath the whole time as you finally let it out when you put your hand on his.

“we may.”

beomgyu brought you to the middle of the space where other people dance. you brought your hands into the right position that you learned last night and he reciprocates, hands on your hand and waist respectively as you slowly dance, following the melody of the music. feeling the glass slippers light taps on the floor.

“you look beautiful tonight.” beomgyu compliments, blood rushing, getting your face warm.

“thank you, your highness. you as well.”

“please stop with the address. makes me feel awkward.” his nagging results in both of you giggling as you dance. brushes of other women’s dresses grazed you as you both move around.

“well… this is me…” you mumbled to him.

“and this is me. you did lie to me when you said you are a child of nobody,” he replied with the words you spoke to him last time.

“it is a long story to tell.”

“and i want to listen to it all.”

“don't you have more dances to do? besides…” your eyes gaze at him as he guides you in the dance, sensing your arms aching for staying in the same position much longer than what you practice. “you are the one in need of a wife.”

beomgyu looks somewhere other than you, the same thing he did when he was thinking from the last time you saw him. humming flows to your ears from. “my dear mother wants me to find someone to dance to but i told her about wanting a specific girl i met on the streets for my first dance.”

you bashfully glance at him as you focused on your footwork to push the nervousness behind you when he continues, “and my last for the ball as well.”

-

“it will not work.”

“it is!”

“it is working. hold still.”

you hold on to the frame of the mirror before you as you sense a pull on your abdomen that is so strong you almost fling. as the ribbons are pulled from behind, you look at the reflection in the mirror, holding your breath. colorful dresses upon colorful fabrics stack in the cabinet almost the whole four walls of the room. sieun fanning your face and wiping your sweat using a handkerchief while haram stood behind, tying the ribbon. haram’s mother, the owner of the shop, looks proudly at the three beautiful women as she pulls out the masks she made.

after the conversation with the mysterious traveler named beomgyu and the promise you both partaken in, haram quickly asks her mother for dresses so the three of you could go to the masquerade ball. luckily, she had dresses she created inspired by her muse: her own daughter and her friends. a beautiful pink flowy gown with large sleeves until her hands. while sieun also wears a similar one to haram’s, but the dress is yellow and black with ribbons tied to the front. yours was undoubtedly blue—said the dressmaker—that trains down until it grazes the floor before you wear your shoes.

haram’s mother shows the three of you the three masks corresponding to your dress colors from the leftover fabric when she makes it the day haram told her they’re going until today. you put on the mask that covers the upper part of your face and ties the ribbons behind your head as if you are wearing your dress, feeling it pressing down on your cheeks and a frame forming around your vision. you were smoothing down the gown when you hear the light sobs coming from the older woman as she looks at the three of you, no words cannot express what emotion she is expressing as she let tears go down her cheeks while smiling as wide as she could.

“my daughters have grown up so well," she said as she hugged haram, before standing in front of you and sieun.

“your mothers would be proud.”

the woman pushes the three of you out of the shop as you watch other people in suits and dresses and walk to the imposingly enormous castle in the middle of the town, all wearing masks and clothing according to the theme. walking closer as you enter the castle gates, there’s a view of buffets of food placed outside for all the low-income citizen that comes to eat. a gracious gesture by the royals to show their selflessness behind their luxury. servers even wear uniform masks as they bring the trays of drinks and light meals across the ballroom that leads has a stair that branches out for the royal family to arrive at the top of it, where you can see the king and queen behind their regal masks and outfit, no presence of their son otherwise.

your eyes spin around along with the movement of the people that dance in the middle of the room, trying to find the man with tied hair somewhere. both of your friends stayed on the sidelines as they served themselves free food and drinks, letting loose for closing the tavern just for today. eyes glance towards your shoulder as you feel a tap to see a finger as you trail it to the figure wearing white and gold, the mask resembles the flow of his outfit as the black hair is let down with a length until the end of his nape. looking up, you see him wearing a beautiful crown made of flowers, branches, and beautifully carved shards of glass that you’ve seen both the king and queen also have in their own crowns.

the prince.

“your highness.” you bow your head whilst trying your best to curtsy, holding for a few seconds before you felt a caress on your forearm as you return to your earlier position and see him gently kissing your hand before looking back up at you.

“may i dance with you?” he asks in an ethereal sounding voice, his posture poised with a dust of elegance exuding from him. the prince wanting to dance with you? of course, you can’t deny it as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime moment. but your mind is still wandering to at least find the man you are here for.

“you may,” you reply after landing your eyes back on him as he brought you to the middle of the room as the other dancers seem to move away for you. muscles becoming tense as you look to the others with your arms flailing to follow the right pose before the prince held your hand and body in place in his.

“try to relax and follow my lead,” he said with you nodding right after as your body moves on the floor, following the melody of the music and the flow of other dancers. you notice that the couples dancing were staring at their partner’s eyes, but the reality of you dancing with the prince and having to meet your eyes with his is daunting. your mind goes elsewhere as you let him move your body however he sees, wondering if beomgyu came here or not.

“what are you thinking?” your head moves to the voice in front of you as you met the prince’s piercing eyes behind his mask.

“my apologies, your highness. i was wondering if my acquaintance has arrived yet,” you speak truthfully as your eyes on his focus on the mask that covers his cheekbones instead. you move with the others in the dance and both of your body rotates, following the flow that has been created you can glance at the entrance as you waited for beomgyu to arrive, but the prince immediately felt how your body becomes rigid as you see a group of three women entering the room instead. though it’s almost a week ago since you last met them, you can recognize them by their hair colors, their postures, and their dress colors.

your stepmother and stepsisters.

“i- i have to go.” panic seeps into your words as the prince turns his head to the entrance. you search everywhere for the nearest exit but failed as the sea of people around you covers it. you told your friends that you were only here for beomgyu and will return home to the tavern if you met him, hoping to have at least an interaction with him for a few seconds before your stepmother and stepsisters arrived. the last time you met them was the day you told them you won’t go to the ball, which changed with the appearance of beomgyu the next day. but you still remember the ridiculous comments you got about how if you’re there, you won’t change the prince’s attention anyway.

“i know where we can go.” a whisper said into your ear as your eyes gaze at the prince’s presence near you, his breath caressing the skin that is not covered by the mask on your face as a tug pulled on your arm where he guides you away from the sparse space into the crowd. you see other patrons seem to bow their heads to the prince, but he ignores them when you arrive at a set of doors and open them to the hallway bustling with servers.

he brought you along the hallway before arriving at a terrace with a garden before you, hedges stand tall as you step down to the garden and enter the hedges. your feet stumbling on the gravel path as he walks straight then turns a few corners as you look at a beautiful fountain with patches of flowers around it. breath heavy, he pulled you to the stone bench near the fountain as your eyes glare at him.

“you need to go back, your highness. it is your ball after a-"

“i needed that time to escape,” he speaks while ruffling his hair, the crown on top of him nudges as he picks it up and put it down beside him, stretching his head as he’s free from the heavy-looking accessories he has to wear.

you stood up as you walk to the cut you come from only to be bombarded by the hedge walls surrounding the two of you. wanting to leave as you don’t want to make the prince feel uncomfortable when you should find your friends so you can return home.

“please stay.” the other person said as you turn your body around. the ends of your dress meet your ankle as you watch the prince leaning his head down. when he sees the front of your feet in his vision, he lifts his head. as you look at him from your standing position, his face is shined by the moonlight above you. that’s when you see it.

beneath the mask around his eyes, shadows forming under them, skin sunken as veins shows near the skin’s outermost surface. how is straining his eyes so that he could wake up and stay awake.

“you should rest, your highness.” you bluntly speak as you see how his lips pouted before he lets out a chuckle.

“it’s too obvious, isn’t it?” his irises move down, knowing what your comment meant.

“yes, it is.” you blinked your eyes before looking away.

“i didn’t ask for this.” your eyes stayed looking at the water sprouting out of the fountain as the prince continues to talk.

“a masquerade ball. my parents truly use this occasion so that i could find a match or they could match me up with some noble daughters from all over the kingdom, saying that you’re getting too old when in fact i just arrive at the adulting threshold.” he sighs as you turn your head to the side, seeing the prince from the corner of your eyes.

“everyone was too busy for the ball that i don’t have any time to settle down my mental and physical being for something i don’t prepare and had no say in preparing. though the banquet is noble enough, we can focus on that instead rather than putting on this lavish event.” you nod along with his words, attentive to the change of volume of his spoken words as it gets louder and louder. hands in front of you together, you turn your body to see the prince’s head facing the night sky, giving the view of his neck and adam’s apple as he breathes the fresh air.

feet moving across the grass, you stood beside him and said, “happy birthday…” as a small comment as you recall the purpose of the ball held today other than for him to find a wife.

you didn’t expect his hand to move out and grab yours in his, reminding you of how he holds you for most of the time you are here. his head tilts down and you notice the sparkles in his irises, a small smile tugging his lips.

“thank you. you’re the first one to remember.”

-

your hands rub against each other as you sit on the bus on the way to your meeting place beomgyu and you agree. fingers playing on the ends of your father’s favorite blazer you kept that you’re wearing on this cold night above the blue dress you got from the thrift shop—a great-looking dress that you felt sorry for its earlier owner who can’t see the beauty of it.

after the movie finishes—where the whole time you talked about the characters, their motives, the plot, and the impact of it—beomgyu grumbles as he sees the alarm from his airplane-mode-on phone ringing, reminding him of an upcoming meeting he has where his dad invited him to. when he opens his calendar to check the time, you get a glimpse of a reminder of a charity ball at the end of the weekend. beomgyu notices it too as he paused before looking at you and then at the reminder.

“would you be my date for the charity ball?”

he would then persuade you, saying that you and he can slip away when people are eating their dinner. you had fun that day at the cinema with beomgyu he succeeded in his attempt and you have to prepare for a ball you know will include so many influential rich people—conglomerates—while you don’t even have savings as much as the amount they spend on a lunch in a three-star michelin restaurant.

stepping down from the bus stop at the park near the hotel where the ball is held, you can see a black suv with a man standing in front of it. beomgyu’s bodyguard who you met before watching the movie and after when beomgyu called him to the cinema, a sigh of disappointment comes out of him as he realizes how you perfectly lie to him while beomgyu is rolling his tongue to him before they left. the man seems to detect you under the flickering streetlights as you approach the car. his body turns to the backseat door and his hand rested on the handle.

“mr. choi was worried you would not come. so he stayed in the car.”

when the door opens, beomgyu’s body jerks from the sound as he faces you in a suit and tie combo. the frown on his face is replaced with a smirk as he helps you climb into the backseat with him, his bodyguard returns to the driver’s seat and drive the car away. you didn’t realize your hand was still in his before you let go to rub them on your blazer, glancing to the side to catch beomgyu’s eyes admiring you.

“you look great!” he breaks out. “whose blazer is this?”

“ah, i don’t know the brand, but it’s my dad’s,” you replied, trying to blend in some lingo that his crowd might use even though when you spoke it does sound a bit out of touch.

“i don’t care what brand it came from. yet it looks great and compliments your dress.” he rambles, giggles coming from you as you face beomgyu.

“thanks, gyu.” your sudden nickname of his makes his eyebrows raised before he lets out a wide smile that reaches his eyes.

“my pleasure.”

yet you aren’t prepared for the number of flashes coming from the camera as you walk down the red carpet into the ball. the backdrop behind you mentioning beomgyu’s family business with many interviewers asking him for an interview. gaining steady breathing, you tried to act as relaxed as possible. but, it isn't possible with the amount of exposure you have.

you sense beomgyu’s hands wrapping down to your lower back as you both pose for the pictures, letting out a smile that can highlight you the most before he escorted you away into the large ballroom of circular tables and chairs around it. beomgyu’s hand still rested on your back as he guide you and tap the shoulder of a middle-aged man. the man turns around and you see a face similar to his as the man gave a hug to beomgyu before looking at you.

“is this your date?” the man asked.

“yes, she is. dad.” your eyes widen as you realized you stood in front of beomgyu’s dad, the chairman of this conglomerate himself. you can see him scan you and the outfit you wore—smile slowly widening before he turns to pull the hand of a middle-aged woman who turns to glance at beomgyu and you.

“oh my- beomgyu. you didn’t tell me your girlfriend is so pretty.”

girlfriend?

your eyes turn to him as beomgyu sheepishly laughs along with the woman he calls—and you just realized—his mom, noticing the resemblance of them in beomgyu. his mom approaches you and tugs you away to the tables, moving past the tables at the back to arrive at the table near the stage where a podium stands. beomgyu follows behind the two of you as his mom looks at you enthusiastically. she sat both of you down in the seats beside each other.

you wanted so much to talk to beomgyu beside you but when you think got the opportunity, someone else always cuts you off. that’s when you finally felt the dread building up and the realization of the aftermath of the captured image of you being here with someone as important as a conglomerate’s son.

your stepmother could figure it out or your stepsisters could find something on the gossip news with your picture in it.

the event went by in a blur as your body move on autopilot, while your mind just think of the worst things that might happen to you when you arrive home. you can hear them calling you selfish for hiding such a high-profile connection from them before they degrade you and say you don’t deserve to be in connection to someone like him and it should be them cause they will nurture the connection better than you. you either look at the three-course meal being served to you or your lap, occasionally to the stage as you see the performance and the mc guiding the event. the air inside the room sends a shiver down your skin as you sit without your blazer, knowing it resting behind you on the chair you sit on.

your eyes glance towards the stage to see beomgyu giving a speech on the podium before looking away, not realizing he stayed his gaze on you for longer than you did on him.

the applause rings in your ears as hands settle on your shoulders when beomgyu leans down and whisper into your ear, “you want to get out of here?”

“yes,” you spoke, already having your blazer and purse in your arms.

that’s what it takes for beomgyu to excuse both of you as you both want to ‘take a shot at the bar’, when in reality he slips you away to the outside world from the kitchen and arrive at a small alley as he and you run together down the streets envelop by the night, finally being able to breathe for all the suffocation you held as he is also doing the same to you. you walk past buskers performing on the street and a road full of people with street food carts all over. ordering a few snacks as you watch the buskers perform, giving them money as appreciation.

“why did your mom say that i’m your girlfriend?” you said as you lean back on the bench overlooking the river, a large bridge where vehicles can go across right beside it as skyscrapers from the other side glimmer along with the stars.

“gosh. i’m really freaking sorry to bring you into my trouble.”

“well, too late ‘cause you did.” you let out a giggle at him while he finishes an ice cream cup.

“long story short, my mom and dad expected me to come with a date for this year’s charity ball. but i haven’t found one so i thought “why not?” and asked you before i go."

“well, why me?” you nudge your exposed shoulder to his covered one. the only thing coming into your mind is for you to tease beomgyu.

“i just have this feeling that for as little as our time interacting, you know me so well.” beomgyu lets out a sigh as he looks straight at the river in front of you. “like i’ve met you before in some past lifetime i might have.”

eyebrows furrowed, you shook your head as you don’t want something to seep into your min-

wait, why are you thinking like that? no. continue with whatever you’re doing.

“i- i guess i could sense that too?” you replied, head bops in confusion.

“right?” he turns his face towards you. he looks at his hand between the two of you before looking up, “but i never thought mom would immediately comment on you being my girlfriend. she’s- well-“ he paused as you pursed your lips. “you blend in well enough that she didn’t think you were out of place.”

something struck into your mind after he said, ‘cause even though he considered so, you didn’t. you don’t assume you blend in enough. you felt like you are a snowball in the middle of magma, melting slowly as you almost succumb to pressure before beomgyu noticed and took you away.

“thank you, gyu.” you said as you look at him shyly. “i didn’t feel like it though.”

“but you did so freaking well,” he said as put the empty ice cream cup on the other side of him, scooting closer to you on the bench. you look at your thighs touching as beomgyu lifts his hand, so it doesn’t squish between the two of you. sensing something cold press again your cheek, your eyes move to see a hand that belongs to beomgyu before looking at him in front of you. your eyes wandering from his wide eyes, cute nose, and plump lips.

“you were amazing,” he mumbles as you can feel his eyes not focusing on yours, but downwards.

as your breath hitches, you close your eyes and wait for him to the first move. both of your hands on your lap linked as you waited for the feeling of his lips on yours. but it never comes, so you open your eyes.

and see a split vision of three men trying to kiss you at the same tim- what?

a force pulls your body from behind you as you arrived at white space to see the three different windows of a couple almost kissing, all in a pause frame. all are from different times when you notice that all the women have something blue worn on them while the man beside her all have differing hairstyles. the longer you look, the more you realized the women are you and by proxy, the men in front of them are all beomgyu.

you stare at the three different filters on each window. the one where you are wearing something from a regency era has an ethereal filter with more white highlights and a tint of pink and purple. the one where you wear something a game of thrones character would wear is more neutral and brown tone while the last one with the backdrop of the city is more neon. all wearing age-appropriate clothing, but something just doesn’t feel right.

the three windows are on the three sides you could see. and if it is a room, there must be a fourth wall.

so, you turn around to find a full-body mirror in front of you reflecting your current state. the dress you are wearing is losing saturation every time you walk forward. not only the dress but also your skin tone as it contrasts with the white that is surrounding you. like smoke in a clear sky, like a speck of dust on a clean floor.

like ash falling down from a burning fire.

ash.

soot.

cinder.

looking at yourself hauntingly, you suddenly hear something coming from the mirror. not in front, not inside, but behind it. you step carefully on the white floor as you walk around the mirror that stood behind you without support. you catch a glance of a wall of text appearing on a floating laptop behind the mirror—you recognize it as yours. when you walk closer and skim-read the text, you take in what it’s trying to say.

Cinderella is a folk tale with thousands of variants throughout the world. The protagonist is a young woman living in forsaken circumstances that are suddenly changed to remarkable fortune, with her ascension to the throne via marriage

wait.

“a young woman living in forsaken circumstances, having dead biological parents and having a stepparent and step-siblings who, with no reason, hate her for being her. a young woman who found remarkable fortune by magic or coincidence, maybe even fate that could ascend her to the throne or any position of power,” you mumbled out.

isn’t this just your life?

but not your life, singular. but your lives. all three that you can see on the windows previously.

you who have a stepmother and stepsisters meet beomgyu who is a stranger that sits in a position of power and you both become infatuated with each other. all three of you went to a ball to meet your respective beomgyu, a prince charming or equivalent of it.

if you followed the cinderella story you know, you know what will happen next. you have to go home by midnight, stepmother and sisters then found out about your whereabouts at the ball. the prince charming will have to find you so that you both will accept your attraction and both be married so you can live happily ever after.

happily ever after.

you peer back at the laptop expecting to see the wall of text where it’s replaced by a question.

“what is your reality, ashfool?”

you blink your eyes to arrive back at the cinema from the start of your story, scrolling the document file you open for your task as you try to find any error. nothing came onto your radar other than the abundance of ashfool written in your file.

ashfool is a story of a girl…

… then ashfool has to live with her cruel stepmother…

bewildered, you see the cd case beside the laptop you put. taking a glimpse at the case cover to find something not what you remember.

disney’s ashfool and the cartoon main protagonist wearing a gray dress instead of-

what color is her dress again?

and why does she resemble you?

you quickly open the other tabs on your browser you remember are all the resources you need to write your review and you get the same thing. ashfool replacing the word you forgot. so, you open your own letterboxd account to search for the movies with your nickname to find the list that widens your eyes.

ashfool. ashfool. an ashfool story. another ashfool story. ashfool 2: dreams come true.

all media related to ashfool has your face and beomgyu‘s face on it, through photography; drawing; animation. all of them. your breathing quickens.

you close your laptop as you hear a muffled noise not from outside, but inside the theater—something playing. you run inside the door, finding the winding cushion-covered hallway colors saturating as you stare at a movie with you on the screen, the only colored thing in the whole theater. a movie of you in what seems to be a school, mumbling about losing your mp3 player in the school’s homecoming dance, before you look away into the locker you opened as the camera focuses on beomgyu walking by. holding onto the said mp3 player.

“what is your reality, ashfool?”

your head turns to a voice calling you as you realize your stepmother sitting on one of the seats in the cinema, wearing clothes half and half of a modern and nobility dress. her glaring eyes stare towards you with a smug smile on her face. her body leans forward, eyes piercing into your soul as your heart beats faster.

“now you know that in every reality. i will always be there. your sisters will always be there. we will always be there to let you know.”

as she finished her sentence, you see her stand up before movements sound arise as you see clones upon clones of your stepmother all turn towards you.

“you don’t deserve beomgyu.”

and they all move towards you, the clone nearest to you grabbing onto your body as you pull with all your might to let go. the crowd stamped towards you as it was too late to push the clone away when you can feel the hands reaching for you, scratching your skin with all the hatred she has for you.

you don’t deserve him.

you don’t deserve your inheritance.

you tried to struggle out of the sea of bodies as you use all your abilities to climb out. pushing and pulling to find a cracking space you can push your limb out. but with every movement to your success, another hand pulls you down and your clothes shredding by the sheer force of power. all the energy flowing out of you as the volume of colorful fabrics trying to swallow your monochromatic self. your eyes clouded with tears as you just want it to stop.

please, stop.

please, stop.

the only thing for them to stop is for you to stop.

and so you stop and let yourself succumb to them. sitting in a fetal position as you sink into the sea of your stepmothers, you try to focus on your heartbeat. the pain marks on your body sting you are still clueless about what made you deserve them.

the pressure pressing on you from all sides as you cover your body and face as much as you can, tears and snot staining your skin as you do your best to rock yourself to calmness.

to put the pain subsides as you accept your demise.

“(y/n)?” you felt your body being shaken.

your breathing comes out rapidly as you shake your head, not wanting to know who called you.

you rather you don’t know than suffer.

“please…“ you heard the desperation coming from the voice.

you lift your head while still having your eyes covered by your eyelids. the eyelids shield the piercing white environment as everything that you heard becomes nothing in your ears, remnants of it floating in the air as it fades out. only the sound of faint footsteps walking closer to you is now in focus.

you felt… safe?

because of that, you slowly open your eyes. the brightness gives a sting to your eyes as it waters more to help get it away. the blurry vision makes you look before you a blurry silhouette, lines so soft it blends. rubbing the moist coming from your eyes, you can finally see it

shades of blue.

three different shades of blue on an outfit.

head lift higher, you see the faces of yourself, all crouching down and looking at you. all versions of you you’ve seen before from the windows. the regency era you wear an outfit with the lightest blue color while modern era you wear the same thing but in the darkest blue out of the three of them.

“you okay?” she said. as the other lends a hand out for you to reach. when you put your hands on your other version’s hand, you could observe how saturated you are. your skin with all the tints bled out, only leaving you in a husk of a shade of gray. standing up, you can see the three windows you saw but with all of you missing. because they’re here with you.

“did all of you know?” you asked.

“well. all of us is you.” one of them said.

“and there are more than the four of us.” another speaks as she tugs your hand in hers as the four of you walk in white space beyond the three windows you find yourself in. no mirror to be seen.

instead, they show you more windows where you and beomgyu almost kissed. all in different attires, different situations, but you recognize underneath them it has the same premise. you look at yourself and him in tight suits with fire behind the two of you. another window shows you and him having animal ears as if you are hybrids. more of you in school uniforms, hospital environment, the edge of space, a clay version. all telling the same story of you and him.

“but did you know our story is a folk tale?” you asked the other three as they turn towards you.

“as said by my professor.” one of them speaks up. “folk tale is how we communicate our culture. a story to tell. supposedly every story always came from a fact and your story indeed happened in every timeline.”

“aren’t we-“ you try to articulate. “tired doing the same thing over and over again?”

“being tormented the same way with our stepmothers in each version?” one of them said as she finished your question.

but it’s noticeable how different all of you are. how different your upbringings are. you all have the same mind, opinions, and ideology. even though you are the same person. you can read the expressions of the other you as they glance at each other, even giving nods as they all turn to you and gave you a nod, knowing you will also say it.

“this is our only way to get happily ever after.” all of you said, except you who is as grey as your fuzzy mind.

ignoring their stunned faces, you walked past windows upon windows of you and beomgyu in different times; different worlds; different parts of history; different universes; before stopping at one of them you recognized. the only one that is moving.

a small local cinema stood in between a hardware store and a pet shop. signs hanging outside with lights fluttering in and out of liveliness because of broken wires beneath them.

from the outside of the glass doors, you’re visible. leaning against a counter you stood behind, an open book of pride and prejudice by jane austen in your hand rested on top of it. you wore a white shirt tucked behind a dark blue apron.

the you from the start of a story you are reading right now.

you do remember it, right?

“we have to stop it,” you mumbled as you step back only to be greeted by the three versions of yourself you were with. you glance back to find rows and columns of you seating on the theater seats—watching the window you were just watching. their hands grab you as they pulled you to an empty seat right behind where you stand, but instead of sitting on it, the seat suddenly deforms as you are being drowned by it. white void slowly fading into black.

that’s when you see the other windows fading in and out as you are seated on a seat that they dragged you into. all of them show the same thing. the three of you you were with before walking back home from the ball.

you are running back home from the debutante ball as the clock struck midnight. fairy godmother helping you reach near to your home with the magic she helped for you and your critter friends before she fades away—her time helping you here is done. white dress torn as you walk barefoot on the dirt. holding the only glass slipper left as the other slipped from your foot as you run away to your carriage. terrified eyes trembled after being caught by your stepmother on your way out.

you are now walking back to the tavern with your drunk friends on either side of you. no meeting beomgyu and also a no to the prince as you rejected his advances. the dress being ripped as you push yourself out of the hedge maze when your mask falls as the prince is following behind you. eyes meeting your stepsister’s as the look of shock on her face crushes you before you left her to go report to your stepmother. letting out an enormous sigh as you arrived at the dark tavern where you brought them into your room before they collapsed on the floor.

you hear the vibration coming from inside your blazer as beomgyu stops his movement. the terrifying messages from your stepmother bombarding your phone before she then calls you. your hands shaking because of the tons of message notifications coming in above the unanswered call. you left beomgyu alone at the bench in panic, leaving behind your dad’s blazer on the bench to run to the nearest bus stop to go to the cinema. knowing them, they could threaten you by touching or vandalizing it if they want to as you remember the threat they've made in the past.

then, more and more windows show up as it shows you all the ways your stepmother torments you with your stepsisters. physical and mental pain occurring as you were told you were a “bad kid��, a “terrible person”, and “not deserving of nobility”. even you catch an animated version of yourself trying to get out of the room by using the force and your shoulder to the door that didn’t budge.

wait. an animated version of you from the regency era.

turning your head on the screen, you watch how school girl you is being pushed into a spaceship from the surface of the moon, leaving you there to not escape. you see yourself in what seems to be an adventurer outfit being swallowed by a haunted house as the phantom of your stepmother commands every piece of furniture to pin you up on the floor.

all of your reality seeps into each other.

the chair you sit in suddenly stops as it turns you to the side to see walls upon walls of white typographies of only two words—cinderella and ashfool—before the chair forces itself forward so you can collide with them and the other walls smash into you as words upon words swim and touches your skin. they ask you to embrace who you are, who you are fictionally is real.

you always are and always will be ashfool.

the black and white blends into the color of your greyscale body as they pressed into you. you’ve always felt that you are suffocated ever since your mother died. you don’t want to blame your father because he is your only guardian in front of the genuine nature of your stepfamily. but it just isn’t fair to know that in order for you to live happily, you have to face such torment and pain all the time.

you let your eyes close, letting your mind focus on other things instead of the words scraping your skin so they could mark you up. the vision behind your eyelids is black as the black background helps perfectly, every ash in your vision slowly dissipates as you steady your breathing.

don’t worry.

you’re okay.

there has to be something that could help you escape this cycle.

something to help you deviate.

deviate.

a shining white dot appears in your vision. no pressure coming from around you as you can now stand up. the only word that is sticking into your mind is 'deviate'.

deviate so you can reach your freedom.

deviate so you can make your own choices.

deviate so your life isn’t tied to a folk tale.

deviate so you won’t be attached to a cliché fanfiction plot.

you took a step closer to that white dot.

the steps you are taking are getting wider as you turn it from a step to a walk.

“are you really sure about this, (y/n)?” you heard your own voice calls you as your head turn to see yourself in the animated version of a cinderella dress. all you can do is nod your head as you continue forward.

“gosh (y/n) just give it up already. it’s not going to work.” another one of your voices speaks to you as you see yourself in a disco attire of wide pants and a vest. but, you turn that walk into a stride.

tens upon tens of your own voices call out to you as all of you turn up to look at yourself approaching that widening white dot in a black void. stride turn to jog. jog turns to dash. and dash turns to run, as more of you stood in front of yourself—trying to make you understand that this is how it’s going to be. that what you are doing is not going to work.

but no. you understand differently from them as you pushed them away with a strength you didn’t know you held as you are only a few steps away from the white light floating above the ground of the void. carefully stepping closer to the item as none of the other versions of you trying to stop you. you notice that the white dissipates as you met a floating glass shard. looking into one side, you see a reflection of your ashen self with no one behind you—but you glance to see other versions of you standing idle.

both of your hands reach both sides of the shard as your surroundings forms into a glass cave where asymmetry geometric shapes create mirrors so you can see yourself. well, different versions of yourself wearing something blue. in the front, back, left, right, above, and below you. the only one that shows you in ash color is the shard you hold. carefully lifting the shard to your eye line, you can see how dead you look. how terrifying your appearance is with a frown mixed with sadness from such a battle of strengths and wits.

you look like you want to quit.

you look like you are ready to leave reality.

you look like your job here is done.

glancing once more at the versions of you in the mirror-like glass wall before your reflection in the shards. you let out a smirk as only one thing came into.

you throw the shard you hold onto the glassy floor. it shattering creates a domino effect from all the glass around you. you can only let out a smile.

so, how can we deviate ourselves?

your eyes opened as you looked at the masked prince in front of you, knowing the identity of the person behind it. your hands reach to ribbons behind you as your mask falls from your face. the prince holding still as you caress his face.

“let your eyes close.” your hand moves to the mask he wears and pulls it off, throwing them to the ground.

“beomgyu,“ you whispered before leaning to connect your lips to his.

“deviating by him knowing the real you. that’s great, (y/n).” you turned beside you as you see the same you in the window as the kiss turns heated at the fountain. the mask is now in your hand as you grabbed them to hold it near you.

you looked at prince beomgyu standing before you as the string quartet stops when you heard the announcement of your stepsisters’ name as they enter the room. instead of running away, you stay still on the dance floor as your stepsisters and stepmother arrive at the balcony and you show your head held high as you face them.

the look of shock on their faces as you tighten your hand in beomgyu’s before godmother steps in to persuade you to let you go. turning around, you tell her, “let them. all of us here will see their genuine nature,“ when your stepmother quickly walks towards you, hand lifted before your vision zooms out to the window as you see yourself getting slapped. head still held high as the others scrambled to help you stay away from her.

“deviating by letting the others know how much of a monster they are. wonderful!” that you in the window said to you as she step down from her glass slippers and give you one of them, holding it in your hand.

your phone vibrates as beomgyu tries to kiss you by the river. you see the number of bombs being dropped on you as your stepmother texts you tons and tons of articles of you and beomgyu before she called you. beomgyu and you look down at the contact name and vibrating phone before you stand up and impulsively throw your phone with all of your might to the river, seeing it dropped into the water by gravity a few meters out before you turned your head to beomgyu.

“it’s a freaking long story. but do you wanna run away with me?“ a hand opens to him as beomgyu lets out a cheeky smile before he grabs them, dragging both of you away down the path into the night.

a white blazer drapes onto your shoulder as you see modern you giving a wide smile before waving a small wave as she runs away into the void.

you turn behind you to see all kinds of significant items that you left so beomgyu could find you—not needing them again as the glass shard that marks your boundaries shatters before all versions of you deviate one by one. you put them in a line on the dark void’s invisible floor, seeing an mp3 player, pointe shoes, and other sorts of stuff you collected as they’re thrown out from the windows of all of you who have deviated.

you pull out a box of matchsticks from the pile that you found. pulling a match out and lighting it up, you’ve looked at the line of the flammable items you have already in place meticulously as you approach the first one at the edge: the mask inside the glass shoes with the white blazer right beside it. you put the match on top of the mask as the flame lit it up and moved towards the blazer.

stepping back, the orange flame turns into blue as more and more items are being engulfed. more and more items that identify you as ashfool or cinderella as people outside this screen called. stepping back and breathing in, you let a wide smile grace your face. eyes looking elsewhere as you see the windows illuminated with a light blue light coming from it as you approach one of them, seeing what happened to each and all of you.

you and beomgyu were talking about the trip you are taking at the end of the social season. the fairy godmother is now gone as you are only left with your glass slippers as a gift from her. but only one thing came into your mind when you remember a proposal he spoke to you a week before.

“my apologies, beomgyu. but i can’t marry you right now.”

beomgyu, with saddened eyes, gives a nod of acknowledgment as you return home to see your stepmother and stepsisters being taken away to face the court. beomgyu, after seeing how harsh they are to you in public, has helped you with the case and your inheritance. seeing your critter friends finished helping to tidy your house up to its old glory days after you are the only resident of the land that is rightfully yours, you pack your bags and leave the town for a while, remembering what beomgyu said to you when you rejected his proposal.

“i will wait for you when you are ready because a countess needs an earl beside her and a prince needs a princess beside him.”

you and beomgyu, on the other hand, celebrated your marriage at the castle as your father’s and mother’s recipes are being faithfully done by the chefs to serve in a banquet. knowing how beomgyu and you wanted freedom out of your own outside of palace duties, you both help run the tavern as the two of waiting for the turn where he and you become king and queen.

seeing your husband from behind the counter, you laugh as you see knights teasing him when he served the drinks. though you realized how awkward he used to be, he talks to you about how rebellious he was and how he always wants to blend into the streets of his own kingdom. even mentioning how he didn’t regret going to the tavern he heard his knights have talked about by overhearing them sooner.

you and beomgyu live a peaceful life after he let you move in into his apartment away from your stepmother and stepsisters after you told him and his parents. finishing your college task together as he prepared to take his place as the ceo while the money his parents gave to you helped you improve the cinema, making you able to hire people who also like movies and wants to help expose the world of cinema—making your parents’ dream into reality.

“what the hell was that ending?” beomgyu’s surprised face makes you giggle as you both finish watching the room. you nod your head as he faces you before saying, “that’s how terrible the movie is.”

you looked at how all of you found your happy endings one by one, with or without beomgyu. but the thing you realized is that you have the freedom to pick whatever ending you like and you can sense the calm of the certainty. that calmness helps you close your eyes as you think of nothing while everything is moving around.

everything you know is right to all of you whoever perceives it as so.

-

“hey, (y/n).” something is shaking your body as you woke up from the sofa you sit on.

you looked around you to the small apartment unit you are in as you see a boy your age wearing a uniform. an outfit you also wear. an outfit for a cinema worker.

looking down at the name tag on his torso, you learn the name of your co-worker and best friend sitting beside you.

beomgyu.

“yeah…?” you rub your face as you trace the streaks of moisture on your cheeks, turning your head to the window to meet the night sky after the time both of your shifts ended.

“if you’re tired, we can skip the movie night-“

“no, i’m fine.” you held onto his upper arm as his eyes met yours, glistening with sparkles and tears collected on the corners. beomgyu slowly rubs a tear away that is threatening to fall out before he opens disney+ on his laptop placed on the coffee table, feeling a rush of warmth going to your cheeks.

“what are we watching tonight?” you asked as you stretched your arms from the tight sleep you seem to have as beomgyu scrolled the homepage down before chuckling.

“cinderella.“

your highness…

lady (y/n).

the hooded man with tied hairs.

your mother would be so proud.

if you’re asking, my dad is a filmmaker and film connoisseur.

would you be my date for the charity ball?

your head shook as you asked, “wait, what’s cinderella?”

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