Dani | Any Pronouns | 20 | Silly Guy | University Student
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whatever you say beautiful đ < me when there are no subs available
SKZ TALKER Ep. 65 ââ Felix
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Sunday Mornings
AN: This is really short and just like getting my toe out there, yay it's my first fic on here!
Pairing: Felix x gn reader
Warnings: None it's just fluff
Word Count: 298
Ever since youâd moved in with your boyfriend Felix you had both decided that Sundays were lazy days. Lounging across furniture and ignoring the pile of laundry that called out to you when your eyes drifted towards it. Initially, you had a hard time settling into the routine of things. Youâd get up to start towards that devil pile begging to be folded and Felix would grab your waist pulling you back on the couch with a pouty expression and a displeased noise. You could never say no to his pouty face. So here you are, draped on the couch as a movie plays on the living room TV, and takeout boxes scattered on the coffee table. Your limbs are tangled together so you donât know where you end and he begins but itâs comforting. Even on your worst days now you have him to come home to and the kisses he presses to your temples and cheeks melt any discontentment you found at work or out doing errands. He was like your little battery pack, the biggest light of your life.
You feel a poke on your cheek and you turn your head to him. He smiles brightly at you his voice a soft and deep murmur you can feel vibrate through your chest.Â
âWhat are you thinking about love?â You hum in thought enjoying his fingers that play with your hair absentmindedly.Â
âJust how much I love you.â
âYeah? I bet itâs not as much as I love you.â He says back and you pretend to gag, smiling when you coax his laugh out of him.Â
âEnough to send a rocket to the moon and back.â You say and he nuzzles closer to you.
âAnd wrap around the stars?â
âYes Lix, and wrap around the stars.âÂ
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Iâm actually bawling my eyes out rn. đ
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SKZ Boyfriend Aesthetic (2/8)
Lee Know Boyfriend Aesthetic
#skz#boyfriend#skz boyfriend#skz x reader#skz imagines#skz x you#lee know boyfriend#lee know boyfriend aesthetic
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Skz Fics that I ate up
As someone who is studying English and Creative Writing, I find it hard sometimes to find fics that can soothe my little writer head but here's a list for those interested.
https://www.tumblr.com/jagibangbangchan/752878652199403520/tears-of-glass-marble?source=share
https://www.tumblr.com/ssickmagnolia8/750331905413644288/losing-my-breath-for-you?source=share
I'll expand this when I get more of them but for now, these are the ones that stood out to me! My fav so far is the snow one with Hyunjin, I remember crying the first time I read it lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy them too!
#skz fanfic recs#fanfic recommendations#skz#skz x you#skz x reader#hyunjin x reader#felix x reader#bang chan x reader#han x reader#lee know x reader
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I have a tarot game!!!
Finally I figured out something that would be fun (at least to me). Took me long enough I was supposed to host a game for 200 followers but now thereâs almost 460 of you but hey better late than never
Recently I came across a kpop tarot game about who youâre compatible with using tarot and it got me curious about who I would be compatible with so let me explain in detail
What you must do: you have slide into my inbox and say who do you think I would be compatible with (romantically or friendly wise), but this could be anyone (a celebrity, a kpop idol, an actor, a cute prince, fictional or real anyone, it doesnât matter). However I wonât make it that easy. You must justify why you think Iâd be compatible with them (boys or girls idc) and it must be good. The more creative or funny your answer is the faster Iâll reply to you. The âIdk itâs just the vibe that you giveâ is not enough for me. You have my birth chart, Iâve always been open with you on this blog, you know my type, get creative, you can even roast me a little if you want. But donât worry, I donât expect you to write essays. I want your answer to be lighthearted and funny ^^
Reward: you are allowed to ask one personal question about your life that I will answer briefly (Iâll try to make my answer funny thatâs why itâs going to be vague) with tarot. However remember that you canât ask for anything related to celebrities, the question must be about YOU.
Who can participate?
My followers because I donât think passers by know my personality well enough to answer this one. Besides of that everyone can play
How to to participate?
1. Figure out who do you think I would be compatible with
2. Make it good and send your answer THROUGH MY INBOX (you can include their pictures too). Anons are allowed although Iâd prefer for you to not use the anon filter. Just my all time since the beginning of this blog preference.
3. Include your name, your zodiac sign and a silly goofy fact about yourself (for example if you have a plush sheep that you sleep with, I wanna know that)
!!!!And once again. Use your brain and get creative!!!!
And I donât know how long the game will be open so think fast!!!
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Request Rules! (And general rules)
My rules are pretty laid back as I'm open to at least considering a lot, with that said if I don't feel comfortable with an ask I will say no so please do not take it personal it's just about my comfort levels or how busy I am with work.
Request Rules:
Any member-shipped content (I may be open to writing poly content but I will never accept only member x member content)
Any sexual content, especially with extreme kinks. I may be open to writing suggestive content as I am an adult so if it's something small you can send it in.
Anything that is degrading to individuals or groups of people.
Also for pronouns, I don't really have a preference at the moment which also means I may be writing for readers of all genders so any requests of any gender are acceptable. I will lean more towards gn readers as I think they're easier to write with and more applicable to larger groups of people but I am always willing to write specific genders for asks.
In the future, these may expand as I get more types of asks.
General Rules:
I'm fine if you ever need someone to talk to or if you ever want to talk about idol groups or music. You can also always send in questions even if it's not ask related. I do feel uncomfortable with minors messaging me so if you're under 18 you're totally open to interacting with non-suggestive content (any interaction I see on suggestive content from a minor will result in a block) but please do not private message me.
No spam messaging please as I am working a lot and in August I'll also be back in classes.
Also, no ranting to me unless you ask first and no ranting in the ask section as I want to keep it open for asks and questions.
That's it! If you're ever unsure about sending something in asks you can send it in any way and I either won't answer/or respond with the fact I'm not comfortable with it! <3
#requests open#request rules#send requests#fanfiction#writing#video games#idol asks#skz asks#seventeen asks#svt asks#stray kids asks
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Masterlist
Hello! Below is a link to my master list! My master list is still pretty small as I just started writing and creating again but I shall keep expanding it so be on the lookout! It will also be updated with every new post!
If you wish to make any request for a writing please make sure to go through the link to find my request rules!
Mwah!
https://stardustsoakedtouch.tumblr.com/masterlist
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Skz Boyfriend Aesthetic (1/8)
Bang Chan Boyfriend Aesthetic!
#skz boyfriend#boyfriend aesthetic#bang chan#bang chan x reader#boyfriend#christopher bang#skz x reader
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WIP
I have decided to join in writing fan fiction huzzah! I'm on break for University but I need to scratch my writing itch in a way that I enjoy. I think at this moment I'll mostly write stuff around Stray Kids bc I'm super focused on them at the moment but it could expand in the future. So here are my works in progress/ones I'm planning for the future!
Painter! Hyunjin x Art Hater! Gn Reader (Def going to be angsty)
Sunshine God! Felix x Moon Deity! Gn Reader
Annoying College Classmate! Seungmin x Gn Reader
Yeah, that's all I have in mind at the moment. I will accept requests but I'm also working a lot so it could take me a long while to get to them. Also at this moment, I am not comfortable with writing anything of a sexual nature, suggestive is okay but if I think it's too much I'll say no to the ask. I also stan BTS and Seventeen and enjoy some video games and a couple shows so if you want to send in a request outside of SKZ I might be able to do it but I make no promises!
<3
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asians: pls care about racism against us
tumblr:
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[SKZ CODE] Ep.55 â©âđ (Bedtime Bingo Hell) #1
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The snow falls, we fall apart.
summary: when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.
genre: producer student!hyunjin x reader. roommates!au. friends to lovers. acute descriptions of heartbreak and general sadness. slow burn. hurt/comfort. healing and hopeless romantic hyune. very inspired by long for you so lots of pining and yearning. (wc: 13k)
warnings: mentions of alcohol. it is implied that reader was in an a very toxic relationship but no details are shared.
a.n: happy birthday to my hyunjin, my muse, my light. thank you for being so full of love that it made me love love again in return. this is i think my most personal piece, and i hope it reminds those who need it that love should be soft and kind, that it shouldnât hurt, that it should heal not break. i love you guys and i love you my xi, writing this collab with you has been a true honor <3 also!! please listen to long for you while reading :,)
winter falls masterlist.
Youâve only ever felt utter despair twice in your life.
First, when you were seven years old, playing hide and seek with your cousins at your grandmaâs house. It was a warm summer afternoon, the air sweetened by pastries you devoured hours ago. You decided to hide in a wooden cabinet up in the attic, only to end up stuck there. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the oxygen seeping away from the cracks underneath the door, leaving you deprived of air, of life.
Second, at twelve, when you've come to discover sorrow's new facet, clad in grief's heavy cloak. Your parents adopted a hamster for your birthday, but they did not know he had a terminal disease. You were distraught, to say the least, when you awoke to its still form, death claiming a frail heart unaware of its imminent fate.
And now, third, many many moons later, you are knocking on Hyunjinâs door a few minutes after midnight. It is cold out, tears tracing rivulets on your cheeks, your fingers tinted pink from roaming outside in the harsh winds, your heart much heavier than when you were a child. More grief-stricken, at your own hands, this time.
A disheveled Hyunjin opens the door, his blonde ash hair tousled and sticking upwards, a clear indication of the many times he had run his hands through it in fits of frustration. His gray hoodie zipped up hastily, revealing the silver cross necklace he was wearing, nestling perfectly against his honeyed skin.
You've always had an aversion to seeking comfort, saw it as revealing your deepest vulnerabilities to a world that isn't always kind. It was easier, much simpler to do so when you were a clueless childâ when you sank in your cousin Lia's hold as she attempted to steady your breathing, when your mother cradled you in her lap after Pinky died.
It is much harder now, much more embarrassing because Hyunjin has never seen you this sad, never glimpsed your shadows that now swarm his doorstep, unannounced.
âWhat's wrong?â he quickly asks, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds. He wouldnât find any. All your injuries stem from withinâ blood doesnât have to be spilled for your heart to weep.
You had rehearsed a lie as you walked up to his doorstep. You would say that your car broke down near his place and ask if you could stay over for the night. He would insist he could drive you to your place and youâd refuse, saying that it was too late and you did not wish to bother him. Youâd sleep on the couch and slip away in the early hours of the morning.
Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that dismantles the fortress you've hidden in, melts the lie in your throat, morphing it into a steel lump coiling in your throat. He looks concerned when all youâve had directed towards you recently was anger. And you missed someone looking at you in care, not reproach.
âI didnât know where else to go.â You admit, your voice shattered, fragments of your vocal cords scattered out in the wind like a broken mosaic, the sound of it scraping against your ears.
Blow one hurt. It felt like your body turned against you as it deprived you of oxygen. The sobs that escaped you once you perceived the light pained you, perhaps more than being confined in the darkness.
Blow two was even worse, it was your first time experiencing grief. It was too hard of a concept for your innocent heart to grasp, too complicated for you to find solace in anything as adults do.
You promised yourself that youâd reserve blow three for monumental agoniesâ big pains and big sorrows only. Thatâs how you managed to keep all your tears at bay for most of your life. Would they be worth losing your third sob for? No, you've always found the answer to be.
And in all the twisted scenarios youâve conjured up in your mind, deaths and illnesses and the haunting tale of failure, you did not imagine that it would happen on Hwang Hyunjinâs doorstep. That youâd burst into sobs at the compassionate look in his gaze, and the sad smile he sent your way. As if he knew, as everyone did around you. That you had handed a knife to a serial killer and it was only a matter of time before he stabbed you in the heart.
Two weeks ago.
âIâm trying to understand you but you arenât helping me,â Seungmin is frustrated as he paces relentlessly before you from left to right like a swinging pendulum. You sit on the couch, beholding only his shoes, avoiding his gaze that would reflect the truth you dare not confront.
âHeâs sucking the life out of you, canât you see that?â
You can, out of everyone that surrounds you, you can see it the most. You feel as if you are carrying a skin that isnât your own, weighed down by a relationship that has taken everything from you. But admitting it is admitting that you were wrong, in trusting him, in loving him. You couldnât bear it.
âWe are fine!â you shout back, the defiance in your voice surprises even you. This is a familiar script with Seungmin, a recurring conversation spurred by your puffy eyes and diminishing appetite. He tells you, begs you to leave, but where could you go? How could you leave a home where you've shed all your treasured belongings at the doorâ your skin, your bones, your very self.
What place would welcome you now that you're stripped bare of your soul?
âWhen was the last time he made you smile, huh? All he does is hurt you, and you...â he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair. âYou are letting him.â
Deny, deny, deny.
âThis isnât true. He loves me,â the words taste foreign in your mouth like rusty metal dragging across your lips. A small voice whispers that love shouldn't feel like this, but you quiet it down.
âAre you hearing yourself? Yn, IâŠâ he kneels before you, his hands resting comfortingly on your knees. This is Seungmin, your best friend of five years. You know he has your best interests at heart, you are even more sure of it when his voice softens, shakes slightly when he utters your name. âYn, please. Iâm trying to help you. Please.â
âI didnât ask for your help,â you push away his hands, standing up. âI donât want your help, and I donât need it.â
You quickly leave Seungminâs dorm, your heart heavier than when you entered it, foolishly hoping that he'd ignore your distressed state after yet another fight with your boyfriend. But Seungmin doesn't understand, no one around you doesâ youâve gambled your heart, and you cannot stop drawing the cards, even in the face of losing strikes.
â â â
Hyunjin offers you a cup of tea with a gentle smile and you grab the steaming drink from his hands. The smell of chamomile wraps around your senses, and your brain fizzles out for a second before the soothing aroma. But it is a fleeting respite, the tempest of your thoughts crashes back onto you with an unsettling force, causing you to almost drop the drink as your hands shake. You place it down the table without taking a sip.
âIâm sorry for coming unannounced,â you apologize, wincing at the intrusion, âI hope I didnât wake you up.â
âI always sleep late. Donât worry about it,â he smiles, but you know it isnât a genuine grin, because his eyes betray an unsubdued concern, refusing to morph into their usual moon crescents.
Youâve always thought that Hyunjin wears his emotions openlyâ when he laughed, he did so loudly, his boisterous giggles traveling around Seungminâs dorm. When he hurt himself, everyone in the vicinity would know so from his loud yelps. And when something worried him, he would bite his lip, toying with the plush flesh to ease his nerves.
As he is doing now. Looking at you.
âWe broke up,â you quickly say, and your words hang over you like a gloomy cloud. âBut I donât want to talk about it.â
âDo you want me to fight him? Iâll bring changbin too,â he suggests a serious tone underlying his playful offer, and it manages to tear a reluctant giggle out of you.
âChangbin doesnât know me well enough to fight for me,â you counteract and he shakes his head. âHeâll fight for me, I'm his princess.â
âAre you now?â The giggle escapes your mouth less forcefully, and the smile that graces Hyunjinâs face is a genuine one.
âI am. My proposal stands,â he extends his hand and you wrap your fingers around his palm. âThank you, Iâll keep it in mind,â you smile but he frowns, flipping your hand around in his hold.
âYou are freezing,â he whispers, using his other palm to rub warmth into yours.
âItâs fine,â you lie, slipping your hand out of his grasp, not feeling deserving of his kindness.
Wordlessly, Hyunjin stands, walking into what you assume is his bedroom. You only know of his place because you dropped off Seungmin here some time ago. You are too exhausted to even drink in the interior.
âHere,â he returns, handing you a navy hoodie of his and black joggers. âThis will keep you warm at night.â
âThank you,â you whisper, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again. âCan you please not tell Seungmin, I... I can't face him right now.â
âOf course. Iâll be awake still if you do need something.â
Hyunjinâs clothing is warm, although peeling away your own garments felt like shedding layers of your skin, as if the fabric melted into your very flesh, just like memories from the day did. You have never felt this worthless before, discarded like a forgotten leaf on the roadside, one he stepped on for his own enjoyment, leaving you crushed in his wake, unable to fly away again.
Hyunjinâs rose perfume wraps around you, and you find relief in sleeping somewhere where your, his, scent was no longer around. You foolishly hope that if you close your eyes hard enough, youâll manage to convince yourself that youâre someone else, tonight. Someone who isnât tethered to the heartache, someone who can slip away from the clutches of a love that hurts more than hate could ever manage to do.
â â â
Heartbreak isnât beautiful, no matter how eloquently you try to dress it in the syllables of poetry, no words can soften the burn in your lungs, the searing ache that courses through your very core, reminding you that deep within, down to the fundamentals of your being and the most basic alchemy that ties your atoms togetherâ you are unlovable. Whether you cut your hair or allow it to grow, change your heart, or leave it as it has always been, you will remain so.
You donât remember much of the past week, blurry fragments here and there that float in your mind like a distorted water reflection. There is little room for memories when you are busy trying to remember how to breatheâ one inhale in, one exhale out. The simple concept seems harder when there are unkind hands permanently lodged into your heart, squeezing it tight.
What you do remember is telling Seungmin through text the next day, because you couldnât bear the way his eyes would soften if you spoke to him in person. No signs of surprise cast on his figure, because he knew that it was long coming, a train with one final inevitable destinationâ you in shambles, him okay.
You remember Seungmin cradling you in his arms when he came to see you, and you trying desperately to keep the tears at bayâ too focused on pinching your arm to let Seungminâs warmth radiate through your being, Hyunjin lingering uncomfortably by the entrance of his living room.
You remember begging Seungmin to grab your belongings from the apartment you shared with your ex because you were unable to face him, him, and everything that your old place spelled out for you. Stand in the ruins of what you once thought would be your permanent home.
And now, you watch as Seungmin and Hyunjin bring suitcases full of your stuff into the latterâs place. And you feel like an outsider in your own body, standing at the corner of the room gazing at utter destruction, unable to stop it, unable to mend it. Seungmin quickly reassures you that you could crash in his and Minhoâs place until you find a new one to live in, already taking out his laptop to search for new apartments for you.
But you did not care for it, your eyes zeroed in on the satin shirt peeking out of your suitcase. The one he bought you on your first month anniversary. Back when love felt like a gentle feather running down your spine, and not a dull knife slicing away at your skin.
âThis place's expensive too,â Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple warily. Your logical best friend could not fix your heartbreak but he took it to heart to alleviate your other troubles. You would thank him for it, later, when your tongue finds enough will to move.
âWhat if you move in with me?â Hyunjin suddenly says and his words filtrate through the fog in your mind easily, as if he rehearsed them enough times so theyâd roll out smoothly out of his mouth. âI mean, Felix is away for the next year since he went back to Australia. And I was looking for a new roommate anyway.â He shrugs and Seungmin turns to look at you, his eyes convey the question his mouth doesnât articulateâ is it okay with you?
âI donâtâŠâ your voice is croaked, so you clear your throat. âI donât want you to do things out of pity.â
âIâm not. If I was, I would've told you to move in with me for free. I still need you to pay rent,â he raises his eyebrows, a playful tease and you smile in relief, nodding, âOkay, I will. thank you.â
Heartbreak is ugly and all-encompassing, weaving through the roots of your heart and infecting each organ with its insidious touch. It renders you immobile, incapable of performing the simplest tasks, burdened by a weight unseen by the world. But you try your best, your very best to contain it.
You smile at the cashier as she hands back your money only to wonder if her soft, well-manicured hands would too crush a soul without remorse. You go to all your classes without fail but your mind is elsewhere, contemplating why the sun filtering through the windows no longer warms your skin. Can nerve endings perish when subjected to too much pain? What's left of life when you can no longer feel the caress of the sun?
You watch a movie at Seungmin's dorm but your mind is elsewhere, fleeting to this morning and how you refused to stay in the shower for more than three minutes because your thoughts might become haunting ghosts tempting you to follow them. You brush your hair and spray your perfume, only because you have to, because you live with Hyunjin and you wouldnât want your sadness to taint him too. You wonder how long youâll have to bear it. You wonder if itâll ever leave you or if the veins in your heart have molded themselves after the pain and they wouldnât know how to accept happiness anymore.
You greet Hyunjin as he walks past you, shaking your head when he asks you if you want to eat dinner with him, quickly retracting back into your room. You have ten unread messages and a pile of growing laundry you need to do, but all you can muster is to gaze at the empty walls, mirroring the void within you. Your mom told you to call her again and you donât know how youâll speak to her without bursting into a sob, how youâll tell her that all it took was one person to break you. Or maybe it was two people, your hands and his tearing apart your flesh and bones. Maybe thatâs the worst part about it. So you donât call her.
And you only ever emerge from your room when you need to, just like now because your water bottle is finished and you need to refill it. You go to open the kitchen door when you hear Hyunjinâs muted shatter, Felixâs distinctive deep voice coming out of the phone speaker.
âNext you add the melted butter and stir it,â Felix instructs, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking in the background. You fidget slightly, mustering the strength to paint a fake smile on your lips.
âWhat next?â
âSift the dry ingredients then add them to your wet mixture,â Felix explains, met with a few seconds of silence. You can almost visualize Hyunjin's perplexed expression, blinking rapidly in confusion.
âExplain it to me like Iâm five years old,â he requests, prompting a small smile to etch itself onto your face.
âHow are you surviving without me?â
âIâm not please come home,â Hyunjin sounds horrified as Felixâs rich chuckles fill the air. âWhy do you suddenly want to make brownies anyway?â he then asks.
You go to open the door when Hyunjinâs response catches you off guard.
âTheyâre for Yn.â
Hyunjin's words resonate in the air, causing a hitch in your throat and Felixâs teasing whistles simultaneously, but Hyunjin is quick to stop him. âNo, no, no, itâs not like that. Theyâre just a bit down and I remember them loving your brownies. SoâŠâ
It takes you a fleeting moment to dig the memory out of your mind, a year ago, right before your ex came to pick you up from Seungminâs dorm. You had a bite of Felixâs brownies, a surprised gasp escaping your lips at its delicious taste, back when food had taste and happiness came easily to you. It was an insignificant memory, you did not imagine Hyunjin, out of everyone, would remember it.
But he did, and heâs now pacing before your closed door, contemplating how heâll convince you to finally eat something with him. He throws a thumbs-up in the air for no one but himself, inhaling deeply before knocking on your door.
âHey,â he greets with a hopeful smile, his gaze meeting your tired form. He hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. âBrownies?â You remain unmoving and he falters, âHm? Please?â
âSure,â you nod and a wave of relief floods through Hyunjin as you step out of your room. His joy is short-lived when he takes the brownies out of the oven, only to find them thoroughly burnt.
His mouth hangs agape, and he walks back shamefully to the oven, lowering its door only to scream inside of it.
âThis will be more therapeutic,â you say, pointing nonchalantly to the fridge and he agrees, opening its doors and yelling once again in the much larger space.
Your melodic laughter fills the kitchen, Hyunjinâs embarrassment is suddenly a forgotten memory.
âIâm craving kimbap. Should we get it instead?â you propose, a touch shyly and he quickly agrees, afraid youâd change your mind and walk back to your room where he can no longer ensure you are okay.
Hyunjin absentmindedly dances along to the music blasting through the convenience store when a girl sidles up to his side, a saccharine grin on her lips as she looks up at him, âhi,â she greets and his tentative smile mirrors hers. âHey.â
âAre you single?â she asks, her gaze briefly fleeting to the window. âI think you are really cute.â
âIâmâŠâ he glances at you but you're suddenly engrossed in the ingredients of the tuna kimbap you are holding, pretending not to listen. âI am but Iâm not interested, thank you.â
âOh, come on,â she places a hand on his arm and he physically recoils. âGive me your insta and we could talk.â
âNo,â he repeats, grabbing her hand to remove it when a loud voice startles him. âBaby, whatâs taking you soâ What are you doing?â Hyunjin watches in horror as the girlâs eyes grow wide, before she scrambles to the manâs side, feigning fear.
âHe kept hitting on me when I said I had a boyfriend, baby.â
âWhat?â both you and Hyunjin gasped in comical unison. He would find it amusing if not for the escalating anger radiating from the man, who looks like he spends all his days in the gym. Hyunjin suddenly regrets not working out with Changbin.
The man strides towards Hyunjin. âDo you want to die?â
âNo? thereâs a misunderstanding,â he replies, swiftly standing before you and shielding you with his arm. âYour⊠baby,â he wiggles his finger in front of the man's face, âshe was the one hitting on me!â
The man scoffs loudly, his face growing redder from the anger seething in him. âSo you hit on my girlfriend and then accuse her of cheating?â His fist rises threateningly, prompting Hyunjin to step back, accidentally bumping into your chest.
âWait, wait, wait! Letâs go talk outside, man to man,â Hyunjin pauses, his voice taking on a taunting edge, âunless you're too scared?â he smirks as he feels you pull at his shirt, whispering an incredulous- âWhat are you doing?â He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and leading you outside, throwing a sly wink at the man behind you now.
âAre you seriously going to fight him?â you ask, your gaze shifting towards the deranged couple who are about to step out of the grocery store. âNo, of course not. I'm a lover, not a fighter.â
âYou said you'd fight my ex,â you point out and his eyes soften surprisingly.
âYou are an exception.â He looks back at the man, who's now walking towards you both. âBut anyways, do you know how to run?â he asks and you frown, âwho doesnât know how toââ you pause as realization dawns on you. âNo," you whisper furiously.
âYes.â
âNo,â you shake your head, horrified and he nods, eyes apologetic.
âYes.â His fingers entwine with yours, he squeezes your hand once before he takes off running.
âHwang fucking Hyunjin!â you shout and he looks back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. âIâm sorry Yn my face is too pretty to be beaten up.â
âHeâs following us!â you yell, looking back horrified as the, even angrier, man runs after you.
âWell, run faster!â
âIâm wearing fucking slippers!â you curse and he giggles, tipping his head back, the wind slamming into you both, his hand never letting go of your own.
âOh my god why is he still running!â you groan and Hyunjin picks up speed, moving you even closer to his sprinting figure
âI know, is it ever that serious?â he yells above his shoulder and you dig your nails into his palm.
âShut up, this wouldnât have happened if you werenât so gorgeous.â
âSo, you think Iâm pretty too?â Hyunjin grins proudly and an incredulous laugh escapes your lips.
âReally? Is this what youâre getting out of this situation?â
âSilver linings, Yn, silver linings,â he shouts as you round a small alley, finally stopping to catch your breath. You both fall to the ground, heavy breaths escaping your chests.
âHoly shit, Iâm not athletic at all,â he heaves, his eyes meeting yours. He expects to find anger lingering in your gaze but all he can grasp is your amused smile before you collapse into a fit of laughter, clapping loudly and clutching your stomach with your hand.
âOh my god, Iâm crying,â you laugh harder, wiping away at the tears falling from your eyes. Hyunjinâs weariness disappears in the blink of an eyeâ he did not realize how much he missed your smile until he glimpsed it again. And it is beautiful. Happiness looks beautiful on you.
âIdiot,â you hit his shoulder playfully, and his response is delayed for a few seconds, the warmth from your smile rendering him immobile.
âIâm sorry,â he chuckles, pulling you up. âHere, Iâll carry you home,â he squats slightly before you. âHow impolite of me. How dare I make your majesty run.â
You shake your head, amused, before climbing atop his back, his warm palms holding your thighs securely. âOnly because the slippers hurt my feet.â
You walk in silence for a while, your arms wound up around Hyunjinâs neck, the ghost of a smile still lingering on both your faces.
âThey said it will snow tomorrow,â Hyunjin speaks suddenly and you stay silent for so long he starts to wonder if you even heard him.
âMm? Thatâs nice,â your tone is melancholic, and he pauses at the peculiar sadness in itâ as though you were trying to act nonchalant about something that has once meant the world to you.
âDonât you like the snow?â he asks and your hold on his neck falters.
âI loved it. Loved ice skating and building snowmen.â Your voice is light and airy, like Hyunjinâs favorite mint chocolate ice cream. âBut now it reminds me of bad times, bad memories.â
âI understand.â
Hyunjin knows what it feels like to relinquish parts of yourself you never wished to part from. For someone to grab your happiest places and to cast a gloomy filter atop them. Sometimes it is the loss of a season that hurts more than the departure of a person.
And Hyunjin loves winter.
Heâll do everything so that youâll come to love it again too.
â â â
Is it a nightmare if the person in it is one you once loved, looked forward to beholding with your gaze, hoping theyâd never slip out of your reach? You donât know, but you are growing tired of having the same dreams every night. Of waking up with an exhaustion that goes beyond your restless sleep but pleads from your soul to rest after almost a year of torment.
You sigh wearily, rubbing a hand through your face before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. You find Hyunjin there, eating a cupcake while standing shirtless, scrolling through his phone. You blink at the sight.
âHey,â you clear your throat and he startles, dropping the cupcake on the ground. He goes to pick it up only to bang his head on the table, a loud yelp escaping his lips. You barely contain your giggles as you walk to his side, rubbing your palm soothingly on his head. âI'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.â
âAt least pretend you are sorry,â he mumbles, pointing to your amused smile and you chuckle, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.
âWhat are you doing up now?â he asks as he grabs some napkins to clean up the pink frosting smeared across the floor.
You hesitate for a few seconds before whispering, âJust nightmares. And you?â you quickly add, not keen on pushing the subject any further.
âI'm working on a song,â he explains, as his gaze lingers on your sunken eyes, weighed down by dark circles from too many sleepless nights.
âAnd the cupcake?â
âSome people need caffeine to function. I need flour.â
âI literally see you drink three americanos per day.â
âOkay well maybe I need both,â he admits sheepishly and you grin, drumming your fingers along the countertop.
âCan I sit with you while you work?â you ask quickly, before the words linger enough in your mouth that you no longer wish to spit them out.
The smile that Hyunjin sends you is kind, pushing the shadows of your nightmares just slightly out of reach.
âOf course, yeah you can. Donât even need to ask.â
Hyunjin walks first into his bedroom, quickly slipping on a hoodie while you take in the interior. It is a quite simple roomâ a large bed with gray covers, and a desk filled with what you assume to be his producing equipment sits adjacent. But what catches your attention is the dried rose hung delicately on the wall, and the array of paintings surrounding it. You edge closer to it, drawn to the well-crafted paintingsâ a sun-drenched beach, a couple lost in an embrace so intimate their forms can no longer be separated, and an elderly pair riding a motorcycle, their love radiating vibrantly as if enclosed in eternal youth.
âYou paint?â you ask, turning around to find Hyunjin watching you. He steps closer, enveloping you once more in the fragrance of his rose perfume.
âIn my free time.â
âYou are amazing, Hyunjin,â you compliment sincerely, your gaze fixed on that imagery of the old couple, one that most likely grew together. It tugs at your heartstrings, stirs a painful longing within you, a memory of a time when you too believed youâd find such boundless love.
âThank you,â he murmurs, before brushing his fingertips gently against your forearm, for a fleeting second. âAre you okay?â he asks, a tenderness youâve been aching for latched into his question. Your eyes refuse to peel away from the paintings and the love spilling from each paint brush stroke, a love that refuses to rest on your being as if you were harboring an armor that repels it.
âNo,â you reply sincerely, turning to face him. âItâs really hard,â you say with a smile, hoping that the mechanical display of happiness would keep your tears at bay, tricking your brain into believing you're not as sad as you feel.
It fails to do so, and the tears well in your eyes like a gathering storm. Frustration twists your features as you shut your eyes, tilting your head upward in a desperate attempt to contain the flood. It pauses as Hyunjin cradles the back of your head, drawing you close to the warmth of his neck. His palm glides soothingly along your spine, before patting your back ever so gently.
Your back stiffens, hands curling into tight fists, breath catching in your throat. You've grown accustomed to pushing away comfort, putting up tall barriers to shield yourself. But tonight, Hyunjin seems to break through your defenses.
Tonight, you soften, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, head nestling deeper against his tender skin.
âIt wasnât your fault,â he whispers and another sob wracks through you, but he only holds you tighter. âItâll get better soon.â
âI loved him,â you hiccup, your voice breaks, âa lot.â
âI know, thatâs why it hurts.â His voice is gentle, and yet his hold on you feels secure as if you could stumble and fall, and he would be there to catch you
âI want it to stop hurting.â
âIt will, with time.â
Your next words are tinged with a childlike vulnerability, reminiscent of blow one, then two. But you do not care for it, in that instant, you crave the reassurance, you need someone to plant a seed of hope in your soul because your hands are too frail to dig for it.
âDo you promise me?â
His response doesnât come hastily, carelessly thrown into the air like idle chatters. He takes his time, considering it with the gravity of an oath.
âI promise you.â He finally says, each syllable infused with sincerity. A brief pause hangs in the air before he adds. âAnd if it doesnât then you can hit me.â
âOn your pretty face?â you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.
âOn my pretty face,â he confirms with a chuckle.
âWhat an honor,â you roll your eyes playfully as you lean back and he grins, tenderly wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers.
âI can't believe it took three minutes for you to cry in my room. This isnât good for my reputation.â
âGood thing this will never leave this bedroom, right?â you point a finger at him threateningly, and he pretends to zip his lips, tossing away the imaginary key. âYou got it.â
âSo what are you working on?â you ask as you settle on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to your chest.
âItâs a pretty sad song, wanna hear?â he offers, sitting across from you on his chair.
âYeah, I'd love to,â you smile, and Hyunjin deftly adjusts a few buttons, before his melancholic whistles weave through the air, coupled with the somber melody of a piano. Your breath catches in your throat, the music reaching into the very depths of your soul. It's as if the notes are calling out for a loved one, for a time that has long passed, for a past that will never come back no matter how much we long for it.
The instrumental continues, each piano note and each violin string echo like a bittersweet lament, springing tears to your eyes. But the melody remains beautiful, akin to the beauty always found in the sadnessâ in the tears that cascade down your cheeks like glistening crystals, in the tremble of your hands akin to branches swaying in the wind, in the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, mirroring the ebb and flow of the waves.
Hyunjin watches you intently as the music envelops you both, his gaze softening with each passing moment. You bring a hand to your chest, almost unconsciously, too engrossed in the melody to even blink. He feels a blush sprout on his cheeks as your teary eyes hold his with the last fading guitar strings.
âYou keep on making me cry,â you whisper, your voice choked with emotion, and he grins, tilting his head shyly against his shoulder.
âYou like it?â he asks, a tad eager and you nod, not bothering to wipe the lone tears that are falling down your cheeks.
âI think this is what my loneliness sounds like,â you confess softly.
âAs do mine.â
A silent beat runs between you both, it isnât uncomfortable, but safe. Because you understand him, just as he understands you.
âSometimes I long for things that have passed," he admits, âalthough I know I can't get them anymore.â
âThe most terrible thing you can long for is yourself.â
âBecause no oneâs to blame for that loss but you?â he muses and you nod, a sad smile tugging at your lips. âYeah, exactly.â
You bite your lip, casting a glance back at the paintings adorning the wall. âI don't love him anymore,â you begin quietly. âI stopped a long time ago because there was no room for love anymore to grow amid weeds and thorns.â
He remains silent, sensing that this is a weight you need to unburden yourself from.
âBut in the midst of it I think I stopped loving myself too,â you whisper, a confession too terrible to be uttered out loud. âThat's what I long for. The things I used to love that I'm indifferent to now.â
âLike youâre a stranger before everything once familiar to you.â
âYeah, you express it prettily,â you remark with a small smile.
âIt's my job,â he grins lightly.
âI think when your heart is pure,â he begins after a while, pausing to carefully choose the words that will soothe your burn, help sleep come more easily to you. âYou give love to others more readily than you do to yourself. And it takes time, patience, to redirect that love back to your own heart once again. But it's not a mistake to love, you shouldnât hate yourself for it. Nor should you blame your past self for loving the wrong person because they did not know what you now do.â
âThink of it as a caterpillar in their cocoon,â he continues gently, âwhen they finally emerge from their chrysalis, they might long for who they were, where they once were because it is the only place they've ever known. But they do not realize that they've transformed into a beautiful butterfly, that they can now fly, and witness much more than their chrysalis. So maybe, your new self will love the same things as before, or maybe youâll find new, better things to love that you would have not known before. But in either way, your heart is beautiful. That is what matters, no?â
A small pout draws on your lips, your eyebrows scrunched as you gaze at him.
âYou have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.â
Your words linger in Hyunjin's mind long after the sunrise, as you lay peacefully asleep on his bed. The melody of the instrumental he produced continues to play faintly in the background, serving as a gentle lullaby that eases you into slumber, entwined in his sheets, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, one hand cradling your shoulders and the other resting gently on your stomach. The image sears into his eyes as he sketches the outlines of a figure holding itself absentmindedly, long into the night.
Hyunjin has had his fair share of compliments, mostly pertaining to his face, and others to his craft. but it is you who seems to have sensed that a part of his soul resided in his art, that he left pieces of his heart hidden in the notes he composes and the lyrics he writes, hoping theyâll find soft hands that will take care of them, just like your own.
Five days later.
hyunjin [11:34 p.m.]: are you home?
yn [11:34 p.m.]: yeahh, do you need anything?
hyunjin [11:35 p.m.]: come downstairs, im waiting for youu
if you say no iâll freeze to death..
hurry i canât feel my fingers anymore (please please) ă
ă
ă
âThis better be a life and death situation Hwang Hyunjin,â you say threateningly as soon as you appear before Hyunjin, causing him to straighten up from the wall he was leaning against.
âIt is a very dangerous life-altering situation that requires your immediate assistance, indeed,â he responds solemnly, ushering you gently to his car and opening the door for you.
âWhich is?â you ask as soon as he settles inside the car and he simply grins at you, his left dimple coming forth like the very sun on a gloomy day.
âYouâll see.â
Hyunjinâs eyes fleet to your figure every now and then, but you do not seem to notice, your gaze lost into the blurring lights ahead. He can tell you're still not entirely yourself, so he was prepared to forcibly drag you along with him. Heâs almost surprised you accepted to come down so easily.
âIs that⊠Seungmin?â you speak suddenly, pointing to a man waving in the distance, as Hyunjin parks his car near an empty field.
âAnd Changbin? And Minho?â you continue, squinting your eyes, âand a bonfire?â you giggle with a hint of excitement.
âYou love sâmores during the winter, right?â
Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.
âI do,â you say quietly, âI really do.â
You quickly exit the car, running into Seungmin's arms with a grin of disbelief plastered on your face. âThis is insane,â you almost shout, squeezing him tight in a hug.
âIt was so hard to find the perfect middle of nowhere for this,â Minho grumbles as you move to greet him, but the warmth of his embrace assures you he's only teasing.
âThank you,â you say with a smile as you hug Changbin, who affectionately ruffles your hair. âIt was Hyunjinâs idea,â he reveals, and you glance back at Hyunjin, who stands with his hands buried deep within his sweatpants behind you. You mouth a silent âthank youâ to him, but he shakes his head modestly as if it is nothing to bring happiness to a bruised heart.
The night unfolds in endless laughter, with Minho and Hyunjin taking turns roasting marshmallows over the crackling bonfire, and Seungmin serving you hot coffee to keep your hands warm. Your stomach aches from the uncontrollable fits of giggles that overtook your being as Minho recounts the time he danced so vigorously on stage for his dance club that he ripped his pants, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one; and Changbin tells you the story of the time his voice cracked in the middle of a rap battle, and how none of the boys stopped teasing him about it for months to come.
And as the four of them take turns making you laugh, a quiet, tender realization dawns on youâyou are loved. It is something he tried to convince you was impossible, that no one around truly cared for you but him. And even then, you werenât deserving of his love whole, only scrapes of it, as if you were a beggar tugging at the outskirts of his heart.
But Hyunjin reminded you otherwise. And if your friends found something worthy of love within you then perhaps so will you again, one day.
âDid you have fun?â Hyunjin asks as he opens the door to his, your, apartment hours later. What he doesn't expect is for you to respond by wrapping your arms around his slender torso, squeezing tight in gratitude.
âThank you,â you whisper and he nods, though you cannot see him, returning the embrace by wrapping his arms around your shoulder blades.
Hyunjin doesn't let go first, sensing that perhaps you need this hug more than he does. He smiles as your eyes meet his again, but his grin falters when he notices your gaze flickering towards your bedroom, a hint of unease clouding your expression. It's as if behind that door lie monsters only you can grasp, wearing the faces of people you once knew, once loved.
âWanna stay with me while I work on the song?â
âLast time I ended up sleeping on your bed,â you say a bit shamefully, recalling the morning you woke up to find yourself covered with a thick blanket that wasnât there before, alone in Hyunjin's room.
âIt's okay,â he shrugs, âI missed sleeping on the couch.â
You stare pointedly at him and he chuckles, âFine, I did not miss it. But you needed the sleep, so itâs okay with me.â
âFine,â you concede, though you did not need much convincing for it. âBut only if you promise youâll wake me up if I end up falling asleep again.â
Hyunjin tilts his head, thinking to himself for a few seconds before shaking his head stubbornly, a small pout drawn on his face, his eyes semi-closed. âNo.â
âHyunjin!â
âNu-uh,â he insists, shaking his head once more as he walks back towards his room. âI'm waiting for you!â
âI'm not coming!â
But you do eventually join him, after changing your clothes and washing your face. You find Hyunjin clad in beige and white checkered pajamas, his glasses pushing back his silky hair as he hunches over his journal, scribbling away before erasing what he wrote.
âStruggling with lyrics?â you ask, leaning against the wall and he startles. âDo you float on the ground? Why can I never hear you come in?â
âOr maybe you just love being dramatic,â you sing-song, laying atop his bed, much more at ease than the previous night.
Hyunjin sticks his tongue out childishly in response, and you playfully mimic the gesture before both of you dissolve into happy giggles.
âKind of,â he explains once you both settle down, âI have this specific feeling in mind that I need to convey.â
âYou'll do well,â you reassure softly, âyour lyrics are always so beautiful. Remember Cover me?â you smile and he scratches the back of his ear, a shy grin spreading across his face.
âYou still listen to it?â he asks and you nod eagerly, attempting to belt into Seungminâs ending high note. You fail horribly and Hyunjin throws a crumpled piece of paper on your face to get you to stop singing.
âMy poor ears,â he laughs loudly, and you retaliate by throwing back a pillow on his head.
âYou just donât get my artistic abilities.â
âIâd get them more if you stayed silent.â
You gasp, faking offense as you stand up to tickle Hyunjin on his chair, he starts squirming immediately, his loud giggles spilling all over the room, coating it in vibrant hues of happiness, and youâre suddenly captivated by the sight of himâ his head thrown back, a golden lock framing his laughter-filled eyes, his top lowering slightly to reveal glimpses of his collarbones and the delicate veins that trace enticing paths on his neck.
You pause, your hand hovering over the side of his stomach, as a long-forgotten warmth spreads through your heart, like the first rays of dawn greeting the earth after a long winter night. It doesnât diffuse quickly through your being, but rather drapes like sticky honey on your veins, making you well aware of your growing blush, of how beautiful Hyunjin is in his joy.
âNever singing to you again,â you clear your throat, laying atop his bed once again, and quickly reaching for your phone, anything to avoid his eyes which rival the crescent moon outside his window.
Hours pass before a warm hand gently settles on your shoulder, rousing you from your slumber. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you find Hyunjin leaning over you, his grin wide and infectious. âWake up,â he whispers, but you only groan, burying your face deeper into his pillow.
He doesnât yield, taking hold of your wrist and guiding your drowsy figure upright, before wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. Without a word, he leads you out onto his balcony, carefully putting his neon green beanie on your head to shield you from the cold.
âItâs snowing!â he smiles, and his excited tone manages to dissipate the fog in your mind. You blink repeatedly and soon enough, you too behold the fallen snowflakes, each one resembling a tiny speck of light bidding farewell to the sky to greet the earth.
âYou missed the first snow so I didnât want you to miss this one too,â he explains, and his thoughtfulness blankets you with a warmth that seeps into every crevice in your body, drips down your fingertips and makes the cold of 4 a.m. seem less harsh, less biting to the touch.
You donât know how to say thank you, because those two words donât encapsulate the depths of gratitude that you feel for Hyunjin. Because he is speaking to the person within you who still loves snow, the part buried underneath layers of dust from a ground heartbreak. But you still manage to hear him, and you squeeze his hand tightly, and he doesnât let go until you finally do.
â â â
Remembering has become easier for you these past two monthsâ both the good and the bad. And each day, the scale tips towards one side or the other. Sometimes you recall the suffocation you felt with him, the feeling that no matter what you did you could never please him, that your hands were crafted to break rather than mend. And on those days your wound grows, it throbs and bleeds different emotions.
Sometimes it's angerâ at him for treating your heart so carelessly as if you were a being devoid of feeling. And then at youâ for staying, for giving him excuses and desperately searching for goodness within him, for the one redeeming quality that would convince you he was worth the pain.
And other days bring an excruciating sadness along, a weight that presses down upon you until you're paralyzed. Because you feel bad for yourself and for everything you went through. Because youâre unsure how to rise when unseen hands push you deeper into the abyss.
And on these days, Seungmin becomes your anchor. He buys your favorite food, skips classes with you, and takes you to your favorite gardens. He talks and he talks and you try your best to laugh because you do not wish to worry him more. It is enough to be your own burden, you do not wish to burden him too.
But when he drops you home, your facade slips away, the smile fading from your face as if it were never truly yours to wear. You are too tired to pretend so you donât, and Hyunjin doesnât let you, either. He brews you tea and orders takeout because he knows you lack the energy for cooking. He goes with you on walks and drapes you in pieces of his clothingâ scarves and beanies and gloves because he knows you couldnât care less about a cold when there is a frost coating your bones. He lets you sit in his room while he works on his songs, and while he paints. Sometimes you talk and often you don't need to. But heâs there. He's there with you.
But you also remember the good. You remember your movie night with the boys, Hyunjin building an entire fort for you, adorned with twinkling lights and the softest blankets. How you watched movies until 5 a.m. your bodies so closely huddled together that there was no room left for sadness.
You recall Hyunjin begging you to build a snowman with him at the crack of dawn, the two of you collapsing in fits of laughter as you threw snowballs at one another, your footsteps marking the fresh fallen snow.
You remember being so exhausted after one of your showers that you simply laid atop the couch, gaze fixed on the void, too drained to even untangle the knots in your hair. Yet, it is not the tiredness that you exactly recall, nor the salty tears you shed underneath the scorching water jet. But it is Hyunjin's tender hands as he brushed through your hair, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, his knuckles ghosting over the slate of your shoulder. You remember whispering that it was a particularly hard day and Hyunjin understanding. You remember him watching many YouTube tutorials to prepare your favorite seaweed soup, only for it to end up being too salty. But you still ate it all, because he made it for you, to lift your wounded spirits. And that alone was enough for it to taste good.
You remember your heart hardening then softening again, breaking then stitching itself back together, closing off then blooming like flowers on the first day of spring. You remember smiling only to cry then smile again. And you remember liking snow, a bit more than you thought you would. Because Hyunjin was there, holding your trembling hand, steadying it enough for you to rewrite your memories with winter.
So, you want to say thank you.
You do not wish to spell it out, because there are too many things to thank Hyunjin for and too few words to do so. Instead, you drag him to the farmerâs market near your home, and you tell him to help you pick flowers.
âI could be in bed watching my favorite show and yet here I am bestowing you with my enchanting presence,â he sighs, not too modestly, as you both eye the array of colorful blooms.
âOkay, Shakespeare, are you done?â you roll your eyes, attempting your best to hide your grin.
âDone annoying you? Never. These are very pretty,â he adds, pointing to the white roses in full bloom, their delicate petals emitting a sweet fragrance into the air.
âI agree, what else should we add?â you ponder, picking out four roses.
âMm, Hibiscus? The red in the center is so vibrant,â he suggests, taking out his phone to capture the flower.
âCute. Baby breathâs would look good too,â you say as you gather the flowers, heading to the cashier with Hyunjin trailing behind, still admiring the delicate blooms.
âCan I write a note?â you ask the middle-aged man as he wraps the bouquet in a powder blue paper.
âSure,â he replies with a smile, and you return the gesture, quickly jotting down your words.
âAre you done?â Hyunjin grins when you return to his side and you nod, exiting the flower shop.
âWhat do you think?â you ask, angling the bouquet towards him.
âIt's beautiful.â
âItâs yours,â you smile, growing shier at the intensity of his gaze as it lands on you, then the flowers, then on you again. âTake it,â you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing like the hibiscusâs crimson core.
âActually?â he says softly, his fingers trembling slightly as he accepts the flowers and you nod in response. You bite your lip as you watch him take out the note, his eyes softening once he reads the words inscribed in itâ thank you for making my winter less cold.
âShould we go?â you say a tad too cheerfully, turning away, but Hyunjin grabs your wrist, spinning you around once more. His fingers trail up your arm, coming to rest gently on your cheek as he leans down to plant a tender kiss there.
âThank you,â he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You think that if his soft lips grace your skin a few times more, your nerve endings might forget the harshness they were subjected to. If his gentle hands remain on your cheeks, then maybe, your heart would heal quicker, better. Maybe your past self that you long for would emerge again, maybe Hyunjin would be able to unearth it.
Your hopeful thoughts disappear as quickly as they arrive, overshadowed by a sense of helplessness that crashes over you, all of the sudden. You sense him before you hear him, the familiar anxiety that is only synonymous with your exâs presence.
âYn?â the sound of your name feels harsher in his mouth, the syllables spat out rather than spoken tenderly, as they are when Hyunjin pronounces it. Your veins run cold as his voice pierces the air, your heart skipping three beats at once before plummeting to your knees. You wrap your hand around Hyunjinâs forearm instinctively, and he looks down at you, his expression morphing into one of concern.
Youâre unsure of what he sees in youâ whether it is your pale face, the quiver of your lower lip, or the fear that has coated all your featuresâ but his eyes harden, his brows furrowing as he gazes at the man behind you.
You refuse to turn around, bracing yourself for his next words. âYn,â he repeats his tone laced with anger, his fingertips grazing your arm as if intending to force you to face him. But before he can touch you, Hyunjin intervenes, swiftly stepping in between you and your ex, shielding you with his own body protectively.
âLeave,â Hyunjin's voice is cold, dripping with a venomous edge you've never heard from him before, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury.
âIs this your new shiny toy, Yn?â your ex taunts and his voice cuts through your being against your will, triggering a flood of memories you've tried so desperately to suppress. Memories of his cruelty, his manipulation, and the pain he inflicted upon youâusing your love as a weapon to bolster his own ego.
âWhat's in it for you?â you find your voice again, though it trembles when you speak. He is the very embodiment of your pain and everything you loathe about yourself. You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, for a bolt of lightning to strike the earth, anything to spare you from facing him.
âIt's only been three months, I didn't know you were a whore.â
Hyunjin's fist connects with his cheek before you can register his words. It all unfolds so rapidly that you barely have time to comprehend it. Your ex staggers back, blood trickling from the cut on his lip, while Hyunjin stands before you, his chest heaving with restrained anger, his right hand clenched into a fist, the bouquet still held tightly in the other.
âFine, I deserved it,â your ex chuckles, his voice laced with mockery as he wipes the blood from his lip. His gaze meets yours briefly behind Hyunjin's back.
âYou might not be a whore but you are unlovable, keep that in mind.â He spits out before walking away, crude words that tear at every scab covering your wounds, reopening them with a brutal force. Hyunjin moves to follow him, but you grab his shirt, pulling him back.
âHeâs not worth it,â you murmur.
Your words seem to snap Hyunjin out of his haze as he turns to look at you, worry cast across his figure. He moves to cradle your cheeks but you step back, refusing to meet his eyes. He swallows thickly, clutching the bouquet in his hands. âAre you okay?â
You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head slightly. âLet's just go home,â you whisper, eyes fleeting to his for a split second. All the lights in your gaze are muted.
Youâre crumbling before him once again and he cannot stop it, no matter how much he yearns to.
It's long past midnight when you find yourself seated on the floor of your living room, a bottle of red wine placed between you and Hyunjin. You exchange it wordlessly, taking turns sipping from it, the alcohol warming your insides but doing little to ease the ache in your heart. You donât exactly recall when Hyunjin sat next to you, but you donât mind. You were too lost in your own thoughts to even register his presence.
âYn,â he calls out softly and you hum absentmindedly, memories of when your ex spoke your name haunting you, each time he yelled your name, uttered it in disdain as if it was the starting point of everything wrong with you.
âTalk to me, please?â he pleads, angling his body towards your own. But you refuse to meet his eyes and Hyunjinâs heart twists in his chest. He is afraid of all the ugly thoughts that must roam your mind. He wishes he could enter it, open the windows wide, and usher the light in.
âI'm sorry you were dragged into this,â you say, your gaze fixated on the bouquet placed atop the table. The crimson painted on the hibiscusâ petals reminds you of the blood that spilled from your exâs mouth, and your gaze fleets to Hyunjin's hand, slightly bruised from the punch.
âDonât apologize,â he whispers, âthere is nothing to be sorry for.â
Itâs as though you donât hear him, your fingers trailing gently across his scraped knuckles, tears pooling in your eyes the more you stare at his hand.
âDoes it hurt?â you ask, voice thick with emotion, and Hyunjinâs quick to shake his head. âNo, donât worry about it. He deserved it.â
âYou didnât deserve to be hurt.â
âNeither did you.â
Your disbelieving scoff that follows scares him. What if youâre slipping away into a dark place yet again, one void and barricaded, in which the only sound that echoes is your exâs hurtful words? What if he canât reach you again?
âIf the only person Iâve ever loved says Iâm unlovable then maybe I am.â
Youâre drunk, you wouldnât have said such an ugly thing otherwise, wouldnât have allowed this sentiment to materialize into the air, to take a tangible form apart from your abstract thoughts.
âNo,â Hyunjin says in a panic as though heâs trying to quickly pull the brakes on your free-railing thoughts. He cups your face between his palms, your tears falling freely atop his hands but he does not move away.
âNo,â he repeats, more calmly this time. âHow he treated you is a reflection of who he is. And how you see him is a reflection of who you are. And you wanted him to be loving because youâre full of love. You wanted him to be good because you are a good person. And he canât stomach that, canât stomach that you are happy without him so heâs trying to ruin you again.â
âHyunjinâŠâ you shake your head but he only inches closer to you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones. âNo, listen to me. Seungmin loves you so much he couldnât eat properly for the first few days you stayed here, texted me all the time asking me how you were and if you were feeling better. He isn't good with words so instead he tries to make you laugh. He wishes he could give up parts of his happiness for you.â
A sob swells within you but Hyunjin presses on. âAnd Minho, he tried to memorize all your favorite recipes so he could cook them for you. It isnât a coincidence that every time we go over to their dorm it is your favorite food that we eat. He takes more pictures of his cats these days so he could send them to you because he knows it cheers you up.â
âYou told me Changbin doesnât know you well enough to fight for you but when we saw your ex across the campus one day he wanted to get up and beat him. He always asks me if you are well and if there is something he can do for you, anything.â
He inhales deeply, tears welling up in his eyes as well. âAnd meâŠâ a tender smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, âyou make this house a home. I feel like my true self when you are around and loneliness doesnât come to me as often as it did. Because you are here. You are like a beam of sunlight that lightens up every life you touch, mine first,â heâs baring his soul to you, vulnerable yet resolute. âSo tell me, Yn, whatâs not to love in you when you yourself are so full of love?â
âHyune,â you speak the nickname for the first time, and Hyunjinâs heart thrashes achingly around his ribcage. âIf you keep talking like this I might end up loving you,â you smile sadly at him as if it is a terrible thing to be loved by you.
âBut I donât want to love you, because I wonât know how to, not anymore. So I'll end up leaving. And I'll long for you, and I don't think I can stomach longing for you from afar.â
âSo please,â you place one hand atop his own, wipe away the lone tear rolling down his cheek. âDonât make me love you, hm? You deserve more than to be loved by someone like me.â
You leave Hyunjin in the living room, alone before the white flowers you gifted him. He doesnât want to put them away in a vase, for as soon as he grabbed them from your hold, everything around you both crumbled. So he leaves them there for the night, the creamy white petals aglow underneath the moonlight. He spends the night painting the bouquet from memory, but the petals end up too tinged with red, perhaps mirroring the blood his heart refuses to stop spilling still.
He did not realize it before, maybe he blinded himself so he wouldnât see what was before him all along. But it is all the clearer to him nowâ that in his attempts to make you love winter again, Hyunjin only ended up loving you.
A week later.
hyune [1:25 a.m.]: i miss you
You and Hyunjin spent the last seven days avoiding one another, well you more than him. He just understood your silent plea when you took a step back the one time he tried to talk to you in the kitchen, swallowing thickly before inching away, allowing you to move past him.
You did not know how to face him after what he said, partly because you were embarrassed by your own response, mostly because even in your drunken daze, his words etched themselves permanently into your memory.
It is his reassuring words that echoed in your brain for the past week, not those of your ex.
hyune [1: 26 a.m.]: and i miss sleeping on the couch
You giggle, shaking your head before replying.
yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you donât
hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i donât ă
ă
but i finished the song
wanna hear?
Walking to Hyunjinâs room feels as familiar as going into your own. And when your gaze finally meets his you canât help but break into a relieved smile. It was foolish of you to punish yourself, enough people have done that for you already.
âHey,â he greets tentatively, and you respond with an awkward wave, a moment pregnant with anticipation passes before both of you dissolve into laughter.
âWhat is this? Are we in middle school,â he teases and you giggle, settling comfortably on his bed once more.
âI know. We are so lame.â
âYou are,â he corrects with a grin and you gasp, pretending to leave but he quickly catches your hand, stopping you. âNo, please stay. I meant it when I said that I missed you,â he repeats quietly, as if afraid that his confession would make you run away once again.
Your heart aches, the knots in your stomach tightening and unraveling all at once. âI missed you too,â you admit softly, and he smiles, his thumb tracing a gentle path above your pulse before releasing your hand.
âSo it's done then?â you ask and he nods, running a hand through his hair with a hint of anxiety. âHow do you feel about it?â
âGood. I hope youâll like it, mostly.â
âI'm sure I will,â you reassure him with a soft smile, and he nods once more, pressing a few buttons before his melodious whistles fill the air once again.
Nothing could have braced you for the sound of Hyunjin's voice that followed, its timbre soft as silk yet imbued with profound sorrow. It's as though he recorded the song on one of his loneliest nights, his honeyed vocals dipped in an excruciating nostalgia that seeps into every corner of the room, every corner of your heart.
In the faded photo, I come across a smile spread across a youthful face, overlapped with the seasons.
Your gaze flickers to Hyunjin as a shadow of recollection dawns on you. You remember telling him that you couldnât stomach looking at pics of your past, ones in which you smiled so freely because you were blissfully unaware of what was to come.
The nightâs so cold that itâs almost unreal.
Because you werenât aware of the winter that will follow and the biting cold that it would bear, for everything that will go astray in your relationship, for your ex's facade to crack like a glacier succumbing to the pressure of lies and pretense.
I wake up in another silence, and I close my eyes.
You remember Hyunjin confessing that silence haunted him more than words ever could, and you had agreed, sharing how sometimes you shut your eyes, pretending that the reality you woke up to wasn't the one you were living.
The white flower we planted together has bloomed. I do not dare pick it. Now it withers away.
You gaze at the white flowers you brought him, now wilted in the vase placed on his desk, yet Hyunjin refuses to throw them still. You see the card you wrote for him hung on the wall, right next to the dried red rose. He kept it. Though it withered, he kept it all.
So I long for you. And I long for you. And I'll long for you.
You remember the longing you both spoke of, how he understood a feeling you felt so incredibly alone in. How he tried to reassure you when he too was caught in the webs of the past. How you longed for him in the past week. How you wished he longed for you just the same.
So I can keep loving you. So I could be loving you. And morĐ”.
The violin swells and so does the emotion in your chest. You remember him asking you âWhatâs not to love in youâ and how you've spun those words in your thoughts ever since. You remember thinking that if he gave you a few more weeks, just a bit more time, you might have found it in you to believe them.
You see Hyunjinâs glimmering eyes holding yours, you see his heart atop a platter handed to you, and you see the resignation in his being. Donât make me love you, you told him. You didnât dare to tell him not to love you in return, deemed it too foolish of thought to entertain.
For he was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet producer who paints in his free time and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Who remains hopeful, loving, and tender, despite the thorns pricking at his side. Who is beautiful, so much so that he allowed you to see beauty in the universe once again, through his eyes.
How could he love you?
How could you not love him?
âThe song,â you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips as you stand, trembling, on your feet. Hyunjin rises too, meeting you in the center of his room.
âIt is about you. For you,â he says simply as if his words donât cause your world to burst at the seams only to mend itself once again, too eager to fix itself and exist in the same timeline as Hyunjin.
âI don't⊠I donât know what to say,â you say earnestly, feeling your heart pound in your chest, its beats resounding loudly in your ears.
It is wrong of you to assume he wishes you to say something. He is Hyunjin, the one who finds words in your silences too, after all.
âI donât need you to say anything,â he shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. âI don't want an answer, I don't wish to pressure you. I just wanted to tell you that my love is here, it is yours to take or to leave, to cherish or to discard. But it is yours, because this is who I am. I am someone who loves you.â
âSo do not tell me to forget you because I don't know how to. And donât tell me that youâll leave because I will love you still, because youâd still be you, near or far, you are you. And you are someone I long for.â He pauses, his voice softening. âAnd I long for you, Yn, more than anything I've ever longed for. And I've spent all my life longing.â
His lips meet your forehead tenderly, and you feel your entire being grow limp at the chaste kiss, as if your limbs wish to liquefy and form a puddle on the floor. His touch is soft, and you miss it the moment he parts from you.
âThere must be something in this room that keeps on making you cry,â he smiles and you bring your hands to your damp cheeks, surprised to find there tears you didnât realize had fallen.
âItâs you,â you pinch his arm playfully and he squirms away from your hold, stabbing his toe on the desk in the process. A loud fuck echoes around the room, and your laughter dissipates the tension clinging into the air.
âCan you play it again?â you request softly and Hyunjinâs theatrics fade as a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
âIs it good?â
âIt's everything to me.â
âIt's called âlong for youâ, by the way.â
âLong for you,â you repeat quietly. There has never been a prettier combination of words.
The title all but makes sense as you lay on the bed, your gaze fixed on the paintings hung on the wall, Hyunjin sketching quietly on his desk, the song resonating softly in the background. You've longed for many things in your lifeâthe person you once were and the tender love you once cravedâbut amidst it all, nothing has weighed heavier on your heart than the longing for the man sitting just two meters away, almost in your loving grasp. Almost.
â â â
It is an excruciating five days that Hyunjin spends apart from you, the both of you too caught up in your assignments to find a moment to properly speak. But you do not shy away from him when he greets you, and your grin is kind as it drapes across his being, and Hyunjin swears he has never seen a prettier sight than you smiling.
On the sixth night, Hyunjin completes the cover for the songâ a figure wrapped around itself protectively, mirroring the way you hug yourself in your sleep. He hangs it on the wall, right next to your thank you card and the white bouquet he drew once again, wishing to properly immortalize its beautiful flowers, to purify that memory from the tumult that followed it.
On the sixth night, the house is quiet, the full moon high up in the sky, snowflakes falling softly to the ground. Hyunjin wonders if you too mimicked the snowâs descentâ both of you falling apart with it.
But then, thereâs a knock on his door.
His heart catches in his throat, his body freezing as if it forgot how to move. You are here.
âCome in,â he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. You push the door open, and Hyunjin's words wilt on his tongue as he sees what you're carryingâanother bouquet, filled with white flowers, yet again.
âHey,â you smile, standing by the door.
He remains silent, unsure of what to say, or how to speak. He longs for you when you are away, even more so when youâre before him.
âWe shouldn't let these white flowers wither away too, right?â you smile slightly, placing the bouquet on the desk before walking to Hyunjinâs bedside. His voice falters, vocal cords refusing to move and overshadow your voice.
You sit beside him, gently pulling his hand so that youâd both lie on the pillows. Your hand doesnât leave his own, instead, it moves to rest on his cheek, reminiscent of the many times he had cradled your face before. Inch by inch, you close the gap between you, nuzzle the tip of your nose against his own. âHi, Hyuneâ, you say softly, and he swallows thickly, his voice coming out just as quietly.
âHi, my Yn.â
âIf we take care of the white flowers together do you think theyâll survive a bit longer?â you ask, your gaze never wavering from his, countless stars twinkling in the depths of your irises.
âI believe so,â he says tentatively, too aware of the warmth of your palm against his skin, of the sweet ache unfurling within his being.
âMm, and even if they wilt we can always buy new ones. We can learn how to care for them better, with time,â you say, and he nods in agreement, laying his hand atop your own, tilting his head to bestow a chaste kiss on your palm.
âWith time,â he echoes softly and you smile, vulnerable yet secure in his gray sheets, in his hold.
âWill you give me time too?â you ask, and Hyunjin reads in your eyes what you mean, understands in the shake of your voice the question you are too afraid to voice. Will he give you time to heal in order to love?
âAs long as you need. Iâm not going anywhere,â he reassures, pressing his forehead gently atop yours, and you both close your eyes, as a running warmth encloses you both, blooms a blush on both your cheeks.
His arms wrap around your back, drawing you close until your chests are pressed together, your head resting naturally in the curve of his neck. And it is long forgotten in your mind, all the nights you slept in this very bed alone. You feel safe, safe enough to long for love knowing that it patiently awaits you behind the door, once you find enough courage to turn the doorknob. You feel serene, as Hyunjinâs warm palms glide soothingly up and down your spine, as every muscle, every nerve, every atom in your being relaxes in his hold.
You are healing, slowly, with each fleeting second that passes in which Hyunjinâs heartbeat resounds within your chest, as its melody runs through your veins, melds with your own as if it was destined to be there all along. As you rest in Hyunjin, as you find a safe home within his soul to discard your worries at the doorstep and breathe.
âIt did get better,â you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. âHm?â He leans back to look at you, and heâs so beautiful, so tender as he gazes at you, you canât help but trace the contours of his face with your fingers, hoping to commemorate him with your eyes, with your touch.
âYou promised me itâll get better, and it did,â you smile, as your legs further intertwine with his, and his rose perfume becomes an indelible mark on your skin. âToo bad I can't hit your pretty face now,â you joke and he giggles, tipping his head back.
He's so beautiful, body and soul, and he longs for you, you alone.
âBut I can still do this,â you murmur before finally pressing your lips against his like a boat finally reaching the shore after months of sailing. You both exhale, in yearning, in relief, as your mouths move together in a slow, languid dance, his hand finding the pulse on your neck, yours settling atop his jaw.
He would kiss you again, this intimately, in the coming months, when your heart expands enough to contain the love Hyunjin deserves. He would kiss you again, when your past comes to haunt you, and healing sounds like an elusive myth youâd never encounter in your life.
And he would kiss you again, over the kitchen table and under the fridgeâs light, in between paintings and in supermarket aisles, while picking flowers and watching the first snow.
He would kiss you, this tenderly, in the next winter, and the ones after it, as if his longing for you never wanes. Till blow three disappears from your memory, till all you remember is the love, the true one, the kind one, the soft one Hyunjin alone could have brought you.
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officer i think one of them can't handle spicy food
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