#(him having to ease into more crowded circumstances like parties)

[fishymedic]

Honestly he 100% has some social anxiety (yes he is good with people, but they dictate their own actions and since childhood that's often been asshole behaviors) and it's worst after those years pretty isolated in Piltover

[cloverthebarbearian]

The Party

Rolan/GN Tav No smut (yet) just, angst? Fluff? And initial encounters. Tav is intentionally left as nonspecific as possible but in my mind palace they are a human fighter. Word Count: 3,195 (P.2 Alone Together)

Sharing a drink with the hero of the hour. His lips against the same cup theirs having embraced the entire evening. It suddenly left him feeling… sheepish? No, something else. Deeper. Warmer. Rolan swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. This was all just incredibly inappropriate, he thought. But instead of taking back their drink, Tav just smiled, and further held their cup out towards Rolan's lips. "It's alright," they said, "It's almost empty. We can finish it off together." He let the moment linger, weighing his circumstances. This is a party, after all. However unfamiliar an environment this is for him, it was clear to Rolan that everyone around them was here to relax and have fun. Fun, with his hero.

(This is my first ever fic if anyone is mean to me about it I WILL cry anyways pls enjoy!)

"Well?" Shadowheart's eyebrow raised as she swirled her wine around her chalice.

"'Well', what?" Tav returned, watching their rescued merry band of tieflings mingle and drink around the campsite. Just that morning, they stood together to defend the grove against this 'Absolute' worshiping goblin hoard. It set Tav's heart at ease to see them all safe. Relaxed. Happy. Even if they knew by morning, they'd be back on the road, facing any and every danger that lurked on their way to Baldur's Gate.

But tonight? Tonight was for celebrating.

"Well," Shadowheart continued, "I've noticed nearly everyone's been coupling off tonight. Those tiefling lovebirds have been cuddling by the water since they got here."

"And? They've been attached at the hip since we met them."

"And that cute bard girl's somehow gotten herself mixed up with little Miss Pony-tail," she raised her glass and smiled to Alfira and Lakrissa, who were not-so-subtly cuddling up by the fire.

Tav turned their drinking horn to their lips and smiled, "They are quite cute together."

"Karlach's been flirting with Dammon, I think? She keeps punching his arm, which I believe she thinks is flirting. Or maybe she's just drunk… Hells, I swear I even saw Astarion sneaking off with Lae'zel, of all people."

The wine nearly shot from Tav's nose at that, "You're kidding!"

Shadowheart laughed, shrugging her shoulders, "I know Astarion's quite the flirt. But I'd assumed Lae'zel had a bit more self respect."

Tav gasped with a smile, elbowing their companion as they both kept a steady watch over the party.

"My point being," Shadowheart continued, "The last few days have been exhausting. Who knows when we'll have another chance to relax like this."

Tav gingerly placed their hand over their heart, faux shock dripping from their voice. "My goodness, Ms. Lady of the Dark, are you attempting to court me?"

"Ha! I'm sure you'd like that," Shadowheart said with a teasing glance, "But I'm afraid the wine's already got me spoken for." With that, she gulped down the last of her chalice and sighed, "What I was suggesting," she side stepped to Tav's shoulder, matching their gaze into the crowd, "Was perhaps a certain wizard. One I've noticed you continue to observe. One bound for greatness under an apprenticeship in Baldur's Gate? Before he's become too famous to remember us great Saviors of the Grove." Her voice took on a playful tease as Tav's cheeks began to burn, a slight tingle reaching their ears. Hopefully, they could pass this off on the alcohol. Considering they'd never admit Shadowheart's intuition was spot-on.

"He seems quite busy putting on a show for his siblings, at the moment," Tav said, smiling, though a bit feeble.

"Don't tell me our big bad leader is shy!" Shadowheart teased once more, "Taking on a goblin cult, lead by a terrifying drow warrior, and they don't even bat an eye. But Gods forbid they speak to a handsome tiefling!" Shadowheart's voice was starting to rise. People's heads were turning, and Tav couldn't tell if she was intentionally trying to embarrass them, or if she was truly just a bit too drunk off the cheap booze.

"Shadowheart! By the Hells - Okay, if I go over there will you please just, maybe, be quiet? Go to bed and - Gods - have some water, perhaps?" Tav's cheeks were flushed in full now, well past a point of being able to blame the wine. Shadowheart laughed to herself again, clearly more composed than she was letting on.

"I'm a big girl, but thank you for caring," She smiled once more, picking up a canteen instead of another bottle, "And I will be going to rest. But you-" her finger gently poked into Tav's shoulder, "- are going to tell me all about it tomorrow."

Tav rolled their eyes, "Yes, I'm sure you'll be utterly enthralled as I regale you with some bardic novella of Master Lorroakan's greatest deeds, or something to that effect."

They began walking away from Shadowheart's tent, making their way back into the mingling crowd. After her outburst, Tav didn't want to walk straight up to Rolan, lest he somehow connect the conversation back to him. No, they couldn't risk it. Instead, they looked for their favorite camping companion - Scratch! Who was quickly found surrounded by tieflings. Mostly the children, but even Zevlor was standing near, smiling at the scene.

"Hey, Scratch!" Tav called out, waving his favorite ball in their hand, "Wanna fetch, boy?"

Scratch barked excitedly, play bowing, tail wagging. The children around him broke apart, giggling expectantly. Tav threw the ball as far as they could across the camp, and watched as Scratch made a break for it. Weaving through the crowds of party-goer's to retrieve his prize. He quickly returned with the slobbery toy in his jaws. But instead of rushing back to Tav, he trotted back into the group of children, all of whom were very excited to play a game with their new best friend.

So much for that out.

Tav took a moment to look around the camp. True to Shadowheart's observations, they saw Karlach laughing heavily, one hand slapping against Dammon's back, the other holding a spilling tankard. Though, by no means did Dammon seem uncomfortable. And to Tav's surprise, Lae'zel and Astarion were seemingly absent. Where could they have gone off too -

"Hey! Tav!"

Tav spun around to follow the voice calling for them, only to see Lia waving frantically, motioning them to come over. They smiled and waved in return, their stomach doing cartwheels. Of course this would become unavoidable. The Gods so love to tease me. They took a mighty sip of wine as they walked over.

"Tav, please tell our brother here that, if it weren't for you lot, we all would have been the main course in some sick goblin buffet!"

Rolan's eyes rolled and his teeth bared into a scoff, "Lia, please, that is not at all what I was implying."

"Really, now? Because it sounded like you seem to believe you could've fought off that whole hoard all on your own, for some bloody reason," she said with a smile, winking at Tav. It was very clear she was simply arguing for the sake of seeing her eldest brother get himself worked up. She turned her own tankard to her lips and pouted playfully, "What would you have even done? Cast 'Rolan's Shimmering Sparkles' and hope they'd be distracted long enough to make a run for it?"

Cal laughed, clearly a bit too drunk for Rolan's liking, "Heh, 'Rolan's Shimmering Sparkles'. I like that. Is that a real spell?" He turned to his brother in inebriated earnest. Rolan looked up into the sky. He was no devote worshiper of any Pantheon, but Mystra did bless him with access to the weave. He wondered if she were capable of divine intervention, striking him down with a lightning bolt in this very moment. A heavy, exhausted sigh escaped him.

"Lia, all I said was I wish I had gotten a chance to show those goblins some real magic," Rolan caught himself in the moment, casually glancing to see if Gale was somewhere within earshot. Tav couldn't help but smile at the thought of someone telling Gale, Mystra's ex-Lover, that his magic was sub-par. When Rolan realized the party's resident wizard was nowhere near, he cleared his throat, "And Cal, no. 'Shimmering Sparkles' is not a real spell," his glance caught Tav's eyes for a moment, "Although… I do have my own spin on Dancing Lights that I've been working on. If… If anyone were so inclined as to wish for a demonstration," he stated, puffing his chest out ever so slightly.

"I-" Tav was immediately interrupted by a very drunken Cal.

"Yes, brother! Rolan's Shimmering Sparkles!" He nearly fell off the boulder he was sat upon caught up in his excitement. Lia linked her slightly more sober arm into his to keep him balanced, encouraging Rolan further.

"Go on then. Let's see what makes your spell so special."

"Patience, you two," Rolan stretched out his arms, shaking his neck and shoulders loose, "Have you no respect for showmanship?"

"Having performance issues, Rolan?" Cal retorted in a cheeky mock-whisper.

Rolan rolled his eyes, "Oh, hush you," he replied, centering himself once again in preparation of his spell.

Most of Tav's familiarity with magic came from seeing Gale in combat. It was interesting to them - fascinating, really - seeing another wizard's process. Dancing lights wasn't a spell Gale used often. Yet they could tell right away, the way Rolan worked with the weave was different. Gale always acted like the weave was Mystra herself - to be revered and respected, always somewhat fearful of its fickle nature. And Gale treated the weave as he treated Mystra, as if he had to prove to himself that he was capable enough to work with her, for her. That he knew everything naturally and intimately enough that magic just came to him. Even if Tav always felt like that was a load of crap.

But Rolan? He treated it like a science. As though he were a craftsman, a Master of his trade. Its like he studied the weave to a perfect formula. There was a practiced structure to his movements. As if he could pinpoint where the exact aspect of the weave he needed was located, and then simply pull it from thin air itself. Something about it made Tav's heart race.

He brought his hands before his chest, right above his diaphragm.

"And… Behold!" His arms outstretched, and a rippling wave of lights, indigo and magenta, flowed from his body, carrying themselves up and out into the air. It were almost as if a portion of the Tears of Selûne itself had fallen from the skies and brought itself flowing through the campgrounds. Tav brought their hands together into an enthusiastic applause. Or as enthusiastic as one can be with a drinking horn of wine in their hands.

"Adoring applause?" Rolan cooed with a smile, dipping into a bow, "You're too kind."

"Remember when he could barely cast that?" Lia playfully chastised, gently elbowing her brother in the rib.

Cal chuckled, sighing like a proud father, "They grow up so fast, don't they?"

Rolan smiled and shook his head. A genuine smile, Tav noted. Something they weren't sure they had ever seen from Rolan before.

"Never have I met such troglodytes," he commented, "Now, pass the wine."

Cal stood up to pass Rolan the bottle he had been milking, only to stumble over himself when trying to sit back down.

"Woah there, big fella! Easy now," Lia giggled, reaching up to help Cal find his balance, "I think we had better find you something to… eat? Drink? Or a quiet place to vomit, perhaps?"

Cal shook his head, waving a hand in the air, "You worry too much! I'm perfectly-" his words trailed off as he caught his stomach, "Actually, Lia, you may have a point," Lia rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Playing babysitter once again," she hooked her arm below Cal's shoulder, "I'm gonna get the lightweight somewhere decent to rest." She glanced to Tav, the back to Rolan with a smirk, "You two don't have too much fun without us."

Rolan's tail suddenly swished and thudded against the ground, almost frightening himself with the reaction. Lia and Cal both laughed as they walked off. Rolan gripped his wine bottle tightly, bringing a large gulp to his lips. He laughed. A tired laugh, shaking his head.

"Its a wonder why I love those two idiots," he said in a strained tone, almost as if he were trying to convince himself.

"Isn't that the whole point of family?" Tav said quietly, trying to tease.

He choked on another sip of wine, Tav getting the idea perhaps Rolan had forgotten they were even still there for a moment. And Rolan suddenly realizing his vulnerability.

"Um. You won't… tell them I said that, will you? Surely it's the wine talking, but I'll also deny it if you do."

Tav laughed.

"Gods forbid you love your family," they teased.

Rolan smiled again, weakly, then hid it with a scoff, "Of course I love them, I just can't let them hear me say it. Lia would use it against me for the next three months. Minimum," he spat out. Perhaps a bit too harshly, he thought, turning the bottle to his lips once more. Only to find it empty.

"Oh, bother," he muttered to himself, tipping the bottle over, spilling one single drop of purple-red liquid into the dirt. Tav hesitated briefly, before offering their own drinking horn. Tav hadn't met many tieflings before stumbling upon these refugees, so they couldn't be certain, but they swore they saw Rolan's deep red cheeks flush a shade darker.

"I… N-No, it's fine. I've had quite enough to drink already," Rolan wavered, laughing awkwardly. Not an entire lie. He was surely feeling the muddling effects of the evenings festivities. But this hesitation was much more… personal. Sharing a drink with the hero of the hour. His lips against the same cup theirs having embraced the entire evening. It suddenly left him feeling… sheepish? No, something else. Deeper. Warmer. Rolan swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. This was all just incredibly inappropriate, he thought. But instead of taking back their drink, Tav just smiled, and further held their cup out towards Rolan's lips.

"It's alright," they said, "It's almost empty. We can finish it off together."

He let the moment linger, weighing his circumstances. This is a party, after all. However unfamiliar an environment this is for him, it was clear to Rolan that everyone around them was here to relax and have fun.

Fun, with his hero. He reached out, taking the cup from their hands, their fingers overlapping in the exchange.

"I, uh… I thank you, my friend," he smiled and gave a slight bow. Always so formal, Tav thought. They almost wished Cal or Lia would come back, just to see him act a bit more relaxed again.

Almost.

Rolan's sips were small, and slow. He wasn't sure how much to drink, how much to share. And the moment he put his lips against the rim of the horn, he was reminded of Tav's lips once again. Suddenly struck with an internal battle of wanting to keep his mouth here for as long as he could, and wanting to get the moment over with out of sheer, self imposed embarrassment. One small sip, and then another. Tav tried desperately not to stare at the way his throat bobbed every time he swallowed.

Once finished, he handed the cup back to Tav, who took a sip of their own, finishing the last of the drink off. They reached their fingers up to catch a small spill of wine from dripping around the corner of their mouth.

And suddenly, it was so very apparent that it was now just them. An awkward silence growing over the both of them. One which Tav broke first.

"So," their voice immediately cracked, leading them to clear their throat and laugh at the social blunder, "Um, you must be excited to finally get out of the grove, yeah?"

Rolan laughed in a tone that to an unfamiliar ear likely would've sounded mocking.

"By the Hells, yes. I am so incredibly happy to finally get out of this filthy quagmire. Once we reach Baldur's Gate, perhaps I can engage in a civilized conversation for the first time in weeks," once again, Rolan immediately felt himself bite back his words.

"That is… Not to say your company isn't more than engaging. I-I'm just so use to speaking with Cal and Lia. They've never had much interest in… learned topics. I mean, Cal likes to read, at least. But it's all adventure novels. The Illustrious Tales of Balduran or some similar drivel. Nothing with any merit," he glanced over at Tav, who was just staring at him. Their eyes wide, their mouth just barely parted. Rolan stiffened, feeling his cheeks flush once again, ever so slightly.

"Ah, I see I am rambling quite a bit and, uh, likely boring you," he said, trying to sound flippant. Tav blinked suddenly, locking back into his focus.

"What? No!" Their hand flew out and touched his arm, "I love listening to you speak about… well, anything, to be honest." They laughed to themselves, "Sorry if I seemed bored, I suppose. I just, um," suddenly, their face felt warm, their words catching in their throat.

Rolan's attention still set on them, on the feeling of their hand squeezing his forearm, "You…?" he continued their thought. Tav took a deep breath in, and smiled.

"You really… Light up. When you talk about your family," Tav finally let out, "Even to complain about them. It gets you talking. Like, really talking. And it just makes me happy, to see you happy," their voice trails off as they realize what they're saying. Then, they laugh again, releasing his arm, "I suppose now it's my turn to blame the wine. Speaking of which, maybe I should get us some more?"

Rolan smiled, almost reaching out to touch their wrist in response, but stopping himself, "I… yes. Um, well," he cleared his throat, "No offense to Zevlor, I know he did his best with the supplies, but, this wine is… ah, I think the word I heard your pale elven partner regard it as was 'piss' earlier, did I not?"

Tav laughed again.

"Yes, Astarion. I believe he did."

"Well," Rolan turned toward his companion for the evening, smoothing his hands across the front of his robes, "I actually have a lovely vintage of Arabellan Dry back in my belongings. I was going to save it for when we reach Baldur's Gate, to celebrate my apprenticeship. But, perhaps…?"

Tav's heart was suddenly racing, their stomach a bundle of nerves. A smile crept up their face as the flush built on their cheeks. They gingerly placed their hand over their heart, and spoke in a cool, coy manner.

"My goodness, Mr. Future Arch-Wizard of Baldur's Gate, are you… attempting to court me?"

Suddenly, Rolan's face went hot. Even with Tav's limited tiefling experience, it was wholly apparent. Immediately, Tav began laughing once more, nearly doubling over at the severity of his reaction.

"Sorry, sorry!" The reached out for his hand, "I'm only teasing, Rolan. Yes, we can go have a bottle of wine together. I'm starting to get tired of all this noise anyway," they waved a hand around, gesturing to the festivities around them.

Tav hooked their arm into Rolan's, looking up into his eyes. The burning yellow-gold and the hell's touched black vastness behind it. Rolan said a silent prayer to any God listening, thank the stars the likelihood of Tav hearing his heartbeat through his arm alone were slim. He felt as if his chest were on the brink of bursting. Still locked in his gaze, Tav smiled and tilted their head.

"Well? Lead the way, Mr. Wizard."

[differenteagletragedy]

Our Life Swap AU strikes again! Step 2, 13-year-old Baxter and MC being little goofy babies as always.

You were 13 when you had your very first kiss.

The circumstances were a little odd, and it didn't happen exactly how you imagined it -- for a while, you'd been thinking about Baxter, your best friend, declaring his love for you, giving you a sweeping romantic kiss while on the beach or in the field of poppies or in your room, lit by the moonlight after he'd climbed in your window.

Instead, it happened at a hotel after a game of spin the bottle.

Baxter had been invited to a birthday party for some kid from his private school. He hadn't wanted to go but his parents forced him -- something about the importance of building connections with the right people. He offered a compromise, telling them that he would go willingly and be a good boy as long as he got to bring you along. It seems like their desire for their son to cozy up with the right crowd was more powerful than their dislike of you, so they agreed.

They'd hired a car to take the two of you to the hotel where the party was being held -- a conference room had been rented out for he occasion. When you were dropped off, you followed Baxter inside, tugging anxiously at your sleeve.

"Are you sure it's ok that I'm here?" you asked him for probably the tenth time that day.

"Of course I'm sure," he answered, shooting you a smile as he offered you his arm. "Your my plus one. Definitely normal at parties like these."

You wish you felt as confident as he did, looking completely at ease in his grey suit, but you couldn't help but feel a small wave of panic building in your chest.

He navigated the way to the party without issue, and gave cordial nods to everyone he saw. It seemed like he knew a lot of people there, but he never left your side.

After a bit, you started to calm down. No one was mean -- the only people you knew that were as well-off as Baxter and his parents were Baxter and his parents, so you figured there was a two-out-of-three chance that every person you crossed paths with would be a jerk. There was a live band, nice drinks. It was shaping out to be a good evening.

It got better when Baxter asked you to dance with him.

"I'm sorry if this is a little stuffy," he said quietly as he held your hand, leading you out towards the area where other people were dancing. "I'm sure you've been to birthday parties that are a bit more lively than this."

"I'm having fun," you told him sincerely.

"More fun than you'd have at a normal kid's birthday party, with pizza and games instead of hors d'oeuvres and smooth jazz?"

"Yes," you said with a laugh. "Because I'm with you."

That seemed to perk him up a bit. He twirled you around, pushing you out before pulling you back to him.

Lately, Baxter had been struggling with his parents, more than usual. He hated the pressure they put on him to be a perfect gentleman, constantly on his best behavior, how they forbade him to be a child with flaws or shortcomings or the ability to make mistakes. How he was forced to go to parties like this one, not because he wanted to but because it would make them look good. How they'd rather break him down into what they wanted him to be instead of let him be the whimsical, free-spirited boy he was.

But no matter how hard Mr. and Mrs. Ward tried to crush that spirit, you saw it within him. You always had. You saw it then, as he twirled you again, this time with more flourish.

It was no wonder that you had such a crush on him.

A few more songs played, and you kept right on dancing with him, but you stopped when a boy came by and tapped Baxter on the shoulder. He leaned in and whispered something in his ear, gestured to a door off to the side, then went on to talk to someone else.

"What was that?" you asked him.

"It seems as though some of the kids are gathering in one of the smaller rooms," he told you. "We don't have to go if you don't want."

"What do you want to do?"

He paused for a moment, considering. He took a look around at the party, comprised of more adults than children. Then he smirked at you.

"It might be fun to see what they're up to."

Keeping a hold of your hand, he made his way to the door the boy had pointed out. When he led you through it, you were greeted by several kids around your age.

"We found this place out of the way," a girl said as you looked around at the room, which looked to be a much smaller meeting space than the main hall. "We thought it would be cooler to hang out here instead of around all the grown-ups."

When you brought your eyes from your surroundings down to the group of kids seated on the floor, you noticed that they were playing a game. A discarded champagne bottle had been set in the middle of a circle they'd formed.

"Want to play?" the girl asked.

You'd never played spin the bottle, and you were pretty sure Baxter hadn't either -- it felt like something he would have told you about. You shared a look with him that went on perhaps a beat too long before he shrugged and nodded. Space in the circle was made for the two of you, and you settled in.

Where you were inexperienced, it seemed like these other kids had been playing this game for a while. Whenever the bottle would land on someone, the spinner would lean in for a kiss on whoever the bottle had chosen, then they would take their turn spinning.

Baxter was laughing when everyone else laughed, and you tried to join in too, but you felt yourself getting nervous. What if you were about to have your first kiss?

As always, your best friend sensed your anxiety. He looked over at you, then whispered, "We can go if you want to, it's ok. I don't really want to kiss any of these people."

"Then why did you want to play?"

"I don't know," he said, "it seemed like a good 13th birthday activity. We can leave."

But before you could, a boy across the circle gave the bottle a spin, and it ended up pointing straight at you.

You looked up at the boy, surprised, but he was smiling. He sat up on his heels and leaned over to you, prepared to take his kiss.

"Stop," Baxter said quickly.

"What, why?" the boy asked. This was the first time there was an issue since you'd gotten there.

"We're leaving," he answered. He stood, then reached a hand down to help you up, which you took.

"That's not how it works," your would-be kissing partner complained. "The bottle landed right there, that's the rules, you kiss."

"The bottle is not law," Baxter scoffed.

The boy stood, clearly getting annoyed. Baxter easily moved to step in front of you.

"What's your problem?" he asked.

Baxter thought about eviscerating him, you could tell that much. But instead, he grabbed your hand again and left.

"What was that?" you asked as he was still leading you away. It wasn't until you were out of the event room and into the expansive lobby that he stopped.

"I apologize if that ..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "You didn't want to kiss him, did you?"

"No," you said, quickly and truthfully. "But why did you leave?"

He pushed his hands into his pockets, trying to stop the nervous energy that coursed through him -- a move you knew well. His eyes darted around the lobby before settling on something behind you.

"Care to sit down?" he asked, walking past you before you could answer.

You followed him as he moved toward a fireplace on the far wall. He sat beside it, and you did the same. It might have been an odd activity for a summer afternoon in southern California, but the lobby was kept cool enough that the warmth was welcome.

Baxter crossed his legs and folded his arms over his lap. After a moment, he looked at you and said, "I've never kissed anyone."

"I haven't either," you offered.

He nodded, giving you a tight smile, then continued.

"I know," he said. "I left because I figured you didn't want your first kiss to be with a stranger in a room full of people, and I didn't want you to feel pressured to go through with it."

Baxter knew you down to the bone. You could tell him anything, but many times you didn't have to -- he already knew what you were feeling without saying a word. It was a beautiful connection. Almost magical.

"I didn't," you said. "I'd rather have my first kiss be with someone I care about, like someone I wouldn't regret, you know?"

He nodded, and stared into the fire. He paused, took a breath, then turned back to you.

Without a word, he placed a warm hand on your cheek. He leaned in, looking at your lips, then glanced up to meet your eyes. You nodded, barely believing what was going on but sure you didn't want him to stop.

And then there it was. He was kissing you. A soft, gentle kiss that was over as quickly as it had begun.

"Do you care about me?" he asked, still close, his voice barely a whisper.

"Of course I do."

"And you won't regret me?"

"Never."

"Well then," he said in a more normal voice, leaning back. His hand, shaky as it moved back to his hair, was the only thing that gave away his nervousness. "I feel the same way. I hope that was a nice first kiss."

"It was," you told him. "Thank you."

"That's what friends are for."

[missmeinyourbones]

for your midnights event could you “to hide that would be so dishonest” with armin?

TO HIDE THAT WOULD BE SO DISHONEST (a. arlert)

a/n: DRUNK ARMIN DRUNK ARMIN PATHETIC DRUNK ARMIN! secret relationship, loser core, non canon au

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Armin isn't stupid—in fact, he's borderline brilliant. So you're forced to blame it on the alcohol when he's playing dumb and you're finally able to slip away from the stifling crowd, pulling him into a private room of the messy house party to finally breathe.

As if it’s his own (it’s not), he plops on the bed with ease, empty eyes gazing up at you to see why he's been dragged away from the fun.

Your glare says it all and still, Armin actively chooses to feign innocence as he shakes his head and asks.

"What?"

"..."

"Come on, please don't look at me like that."

"..."

"I'm... sorry?"

The question mark at the end of his words is what breaks you, and with an exasperated groan, you reveal all of your cards.

"You said we'd lay low."

He sways his legs a bit as he sighs, sticking his empty hand in his pocket. He uses the other hand to bring his cup to his lips when he shrugs, "Truthfully, I kinda consider what happened 'laying low' given the circumstances."

He physically feels your gaze harden on him, something he didn't even know was possible, when you squint and hiss. "You kissing me in front of all of our friends who don't know we're dating is not 'laying low,' Armin."

You swear you see him smirk, but your boyfriend smoothly plays it off by biting his cheek and shrugging once more.

"Maybe we just have different definitions, then."

You huff and close your eyes, head slightly tilting backward to gather your ramped thoughts before you mumble.

"What happened to us waiting to tell them, huh?"

Armin rises from the stranger's bed and scratches the back of his head, "I don't know, I just—”

He struggles with his words, like a child stuttering to explain his big feelings, before he settles on a whiny, "I love you, and that's not a bad thing, right?"

You shake your head, voice getting softer, "Of course it's not."

"Well, hiding it feels wrong," he declares, crossing his arms like his opinion is solidified. "It's like—like I'm lying to everyone."

You soften, removing the half empty red solo cup from his loose grasp and placing it on the nightstand of whoever’s room your in right now.

In the dim light of the bedroom compared to the strobing reds and blues of the party, you're actually able to see Armin for one of the first times tonight. His eyes are delicate, a bit shaky as they carefully cling to your every move, like you'd single-handledly hung the stars in the sky.

And while he's pathetically drunk and in the wrong no matter the way you swing it, he's yours all the same.

"It's not lying, you're just not screaming your love for me from the rooftops," you remind him in a gentle tone, pulling his lanky arm towards you. He silently thanks you for the touch by immediately slouching his weight against you and melting onto your shoulder.

"That feels like lying to me," he mumbles against the fabric of your sweater, "and a violation of my freedom of speech."

You can't help but shake your head and smile, "You're just a little drunk and dramatic right now."

"Are you mad?"

"No," you sigh softly, fingers finding the hair by his neck as you scratch the skin gently. "It's okay, just wish we were on the same page before you stuck your tongue down my throat."

A tiny, "M'sorry," is felt against your skin.

You tug lightly on his hair, prompting him to look up at you.

"Don't be. We can talk about it more in the morning when you're disgustingly hungover, okay?"

"Okay," he immediately agrees, like a child being promised the world and then some, "love you."

"I love you too."

Armin straightens his back, taking a deep inhale and shaking out his arms a bit. You smile when you hand his drink back to him, and while he accepts it, he carefully holds it up to your mouth first. You take a sip of the sugary cocktail with god knows how much alcohol poured into it, -and it tastes sweet on your tongue—a lot like how Armin did just a few minutes ago.

"Maybe no one even noticed. I mean—did you see Connie?" Armin finds his footing, convincing you that's he's a bit more sober now.

Gently grabbing your hand and making his way to the door, he continues, "He can barely open his eyes right now, let alone form a cohesive thought."

Your nose crinkles in amusement, "Can he normally form one?"

Armin blushes and pulls you along with him, "You'd be surprised."

[starrook]

morion canceled class for this. when asked for the reason, it was simple.

" national holiday in my country. "

what was this national holiday, many of his students wondered? nobody could get a straight answer from him, though not via lies or underhanded tactics. as soon as morion announced that there would be no class he was out of the room like someone had set it on fire.

from place to place he lurks. column to column, wall to wall; many onlookers watch, confused at how a man that large thinks he could be in any way stealthy. morion does not care. he's on the move.

finally his quarry is tracked: a mop of blue hair separates itself from the crowd, and morion's smirk grows ten times. he departs from his hiding place with composure, acting as normal. No He Has Not Been Crawling Around The School Like A Big Bug. He's Very Relaxed Right Now!

but when he finally gets to him, his special little alcryst...

all falls to pieces. morion grabs his son and lifts him up, laughing heartily. " HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALCRYST, M'BOY!! " maybe announcing it like this will make others wish his special little boy a happy birthday, too. that would be nice.

" i missed your last one, so this one makes you... nineteen, huh?! " he pats his massive hand on alcryst's head, ruffling it playfully. " just one more year 'till the big two-zero! you can bet your ass i'll be here for that! " circumstances and gods be damned, he'll throw hands before he has to go back in that stupid cathedral.

he sets alcryst down in a less populated part of the courtyard---as, of course, he has dragged his son around without saying anything. he produces a tall gift; not taller than alcryst himself, but it's a decent size. " i'm all about spectacle, and trust me, you'll be getting one HELL of a birthday party later, " morion mutters, smiling only slightly. " but i also wanted to give you something a little more private.

" when we met back up for the first time and you mistook me for a fake, i was horrified at what i'd found out. i can't imagine what it must've been like for you two, back at destinea cathedral. " his voice has waned; it has eroded to something softer and a little more stern. " i caused you and your brother a lot of hurt and didn't even leave anything behind. that ain't right. "

inside the box sits two things: a picture, crudely drawn, and a simple bow, made of elm and reinforced with steel. the wood is lacquered with a deep blue stain and the steel has been buffed obsessively. " so i made you this. it ain't no bow of legend, but...

" i remember the day you told me you wanted to use bows instead of swords. i'd thought, ' ah, hell, how am i gonna teach this kid how to use these damn things? ' " morion laughs at the memory. " but it turns out that you didn't need all that much teaching. we gave you the tools n' you ran with 'em, and look at you now! best archer in brodia, i'd reckon. "

his smile creeps into his eyes, and morion gently hugs alcryst. " happy birthday, alcryst. i'm so happy i can be here to do this, and i'll do my damndest never to leave you two like i had. "

...

" ...now, i'm makin' plans to have a huge dinner tonight. you gonna invite lapis? "

“Waugh!” Alcryst yelps as he’s lifted into the air with ease. The familiar booming laughter puts him at ease, he’s been through enough birthdays to know the routine. “Dad! Please! I can walk on my own!!” In spite of his protests, Alcryst delights in his father’s love, so grand that even he couldn’t question it. That they could even do this is a miracle in and of itself.

Dad talks about missing the last birthday. Alcryst has no intention to fill in the reason why. “Nineteen, yes…” It’s dizzying to even think about, honestly. Next year he’ll be twenty. That feels ancient, though Alcryst wouldn’t tell Diamant that. Some days he notices signs of him getting older. Mostly in that he’s gotten taller and lost some of his “baby face” as the knights call it. Alcryst doubts he’ll be as tall or muscular as his brother and father, but he can’t deny the distance between him and them isn’t nearly as far. He hopes his father noticed too. He hopes that Father will get to see him next year when he turns twenty, hopefully even taller. Though he’s is quick to remind Alcryst how unlikely this birthday is in the first place. “Father…”

Dad leaves no time to dwell on the matter, though. Immediately Alcryst is presented with a new bow, coated with a smooth blue lacquer and reinforced with steel. “You made this?!” First the violin, now this bow… but it’s not as easy to imagine his father toiling over a bow, to spend countless hours carving wood to just the right shape and ensuring perfect tension for the string. Maybe because it’s hard to imagine Father having the patience for such delicate work. And yet, he did it for him.

…Alcryst blinks back tears, smiling down at the drawing his father included. “Is that me with the bow?” He teases. “Ah… thank you so much, Father. I’ll treasure it always. I’ll wield it in service to Brodia, as faithfully as you did.” The hug comes just in time, just as a tear escapes him.

…

LAPIS??

How did her name come up?? Alcryst pulls away, hurriedly wiping at his eyes so that he can get a clear view of his father. It’s just as he feared. That look. That knowing smile. The teasing lilt in his voice. Alcryst has been on the receiving end of it many times before. Knowing that his father’s assumptions are finally true doesn’t make it any better.

“...Diamant told you?” Alcryst asks sheepishly. I’m going to kill that traitorous son of a bitch. “Aha, um, I’ll definitely ask if she wants to join…!”

[opheliajupiter99]

Enodi: The Faceless Clown (Might get sad and Lovecrafty)

Enodi.

It wasn't the poor little bard's real name, of course. He'd forgotten a long, long time ago - instead, he made up a new one. He picked Enodi, not for any real good reason, simply because he thought it sounded funny.

It felt like 'funny' was what he was supposed to be. He could recall oh so very little, he had only the barest little traces of memory, floating about in the blank void that was his mind, and the little bits and pieces that the townsfolk recalled about him.

He sat upon the edge of the fountain in the center of town, just thinking, as he stared up at the sky. It was a routine thing for him, and on his foggy morning in particular, he was recalling what the townsfolk had told him, about the faithful day he first recalled...well, anything.

Apparently, he was a travelling bard, ever so long ago, entertaining crowds with jokes, and smiles, and songs, with a lute in one hand and a flute in the other. Then one day, when he stopped to perform in this very town, he joined a group of adventurers to take part in a quest on the outskirts of town.

The people of the town that witnessed him and the others said that they wondered why he did this, as he seemed woefully unprepared for combat. Some guessed that perhaps it was because the quest was -supposed- to be very simple, so perhaps he thought he wouldn't have to do anything too taxing.

Others still, however, think it had something to do with the young Wood Elf that was a part of the band of the adventurers. They seemed to know each other, and the woman looked remarkably like the young bard, the occupants of the tavern they visited thinking it likely they were siblings. Perhaps his dear sister had convinced him to accompany them on this quest?

Whatever the reason, they left later that day, and were found early the next morning on the outskirts. Or rather...what was left of the party was found.

The entire adventuring party, beyond Enodi, had been slaughtered, butchered beyond recognition like they were nothing more than sheep ravaged by a passing wolf. Those that stumbled upon the sight could never get the image of poor little Enodi, laughing madly as he sat in a sea of carnage and gore out of their nightmares.

Enodi was alive, but the healers of the little town were quite baffled. Not just because the rest of the party was dead, but because of the state the Wood Elf was in. Necrotic scarring and festering was all over a good chunk of his body, though oddly, it didn't seem to be spreading, staying in specific areas, as if those parts of his body were hit by some kind of spell.

The worst area of this was by far his face - or rather, where his face used to be. His face was not just mangled - it was gone. No nose, no eyelids, no lips, no cheeks, just rotten, festering flesh, teeth fully exposed into a macabre smile, and eyes wide and manic, a horrid yellow color rather than a natural white to his eyes.

No matter how hard the healers tried, they could not get the necrotic portions of his flesh to regrow. He was even sent off to a large healer facility in a neighboring town once, in the hopes they could do something, or at least ease it somewhat, but alas, that failed as well. He still had his ears, or at least most of them, and he had his hair, it was merely the front portion of his face that was gone. The only boon, if it could be called that, is that the man felt no pain, likely due to the nerves dying in those areas.

He also, of course, lost any and all memory of not just what happened that night, but his entire life. He couldn't recall his name, where he was born, what he'd done for a living, he couldn't even recall his dear sister, though perhaps given the circumstances that last part was for the best.

To this day, no one has a single idea what could've possibly happened that night. The quest was merely to investigate a man by the riverside, who had been acting very oddly lately. It was figured that at most they would have to drag him back to town kicking and screaming, if he had gotten dramatically worse, or at the least he would've been completely reasonable and gone back to town on his own.

There are hints as to what could've happened though. The horrid affliction placed upon Enodi could've only been done by a true master of dark arts, and the dramatic damage to Enodi's memory and sanity on top of that - as well as the quite worrying whispers the bard reported hearing on a near constant basis - have made the townsfolk worry deeply that it could've been an Illithid, or better known to the average person as a Mindflayer.

But of course, that merely raised more questions. If it -was- a Mindflayer, why in all nine hells was the man still alive? He'd been examined for a Mindflayer larvae behind his eye, just in case, and nothing was found, and beyond the necrosis and clear mental instability, he showed no signs of developing mutations.

The healers of the town's best guess is that a horrific curse was placed upon the party, and he had simply managed to survive the torturous affliction by some wild miracle of chance.

Enodi cared little for all that though. He quite loved his life, even if most people he interacted with were either terrified by him or disgusted by him, or some combination of both, or simply pitied him. As long as he could entertain people in some regard, he was fine. And besides, he had mask; a comedy/tragedy mask that was among the various things he was found with that night, as well as his lute and flute, which by some miracle he still remembered how to play.

The music was one of the only things he could remember, as well as his love for entertaining. So now, he performed, mostly in the town but sometimes would travel, doing clown acts, singing, and attempting to play his instruments. They sounded...unique, to put it politely, especially his flute, as playing a flute without lips didn't exactly produce the best sound, and the rot upon his hands made playing the lute rather awkward, but he loved playing them so very, very much.

As far as he was concerned, his life was perfect. Yes, he was rotten, yes, his friends and family were either dead or long since forgotten, yes, there was a constant flow of maddening whispers echoing through his head that made it quite difficult to sleep, but he was oh so very happy.

Was he overjoyed because he was insane? Oh, most certainly; but he was overjoyed, and that was much better than some could boast.

[lycanus]

It has, admittedly, taken Cadwalader some time to reaccustom themself with the parties of Annwn. After so long on the fringes of both the mortal realm and their home realm, they feared they might never find a place to really belong.

And then Corazon came along and changed everything.

The hounds welcomed them both more readily than they had expected, easing the transition for Corazon especially. She's doing so very well here, despite everything. Cadwalader no longer feels guilty or anxious if circumstances force them to part, even among crowds like this.

Which is how Rhodri finds them, red eyes burning, smile wide and sharp. They haven't seen each other in what feels like a lifetime; it's easy to lose track of everything with him nearby. Rhodri's stories are as wild as ever. His eyes trail Cadwalader's form like they always have.

But they don't have time to tell him of their own adventures, the reason that the rendezvous he's so clearly impatient for will not happen, when the reason shows up herself.

Their hand finds Corazon's waist without a thought. They know Rhodri sees the way the movement is second nature; the fire in his eyes blazes yellow-orange-white in anger. "This is Rhodri," they say, keeping their voice low and even despite the tension in the air. "One of the gwyllgi. A sort of hound, too. He warns the souls that are beyond my help. And he visits so rarely."

But Rhodri, it seems, has no desire for pleasantries. He stares Corazon down with his bright, unsettling eyes, but they know she can handle it. "You're not from here," he says simply.

@lycanus, a closed starter

The room is crowded, as it always is during these nights. Parties seem to be something these people thoroughly enjoy. It's a great way to learn, but right now, that's not Corazon's focus.

She knows Cadwalader's scent very well now. It's easy, too, to spot them across the room, tall as they are. It's also easy to spot a stranger speaking to them, standing far closer than she would like. He's tall, too. Pretty, as most of these beings are. But he's laughing a little too hard at whatever it is Cadwalader is saying. He's leaning in closer to them than Corazon can tolerate.

Her skirt whispers around her feet as she makes her way across the room. Eyes follow her, as they always do. She ignores them, as she always does. There is only one thing on her mind right now. Corazon stops at Cadwalader's side when she reaches them. Even in her heels, she barely comes up to their chin. The man smiling at her hound is tall, too, but it doesn't intimidate her.

"Yolia," Corazon says, voice soft. She sees the way the man's eyes move over her, sizing her up. There's a sudden tension in his shoulders, a subtle thing, that pleases her. Her hand slides along Cadwalader's back before coming to rest on their shoulder. "Introduce me to who it is that's taking up so much of your time."

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Yelena Belova x Reader Seven Minutes in Heaven

Yelena couldn't believe she let Kate drag her to this stupid college party. The archer insisted that she needed to get out more and experience normal people things. And going to at least one college party was like some right of passage. Kate promised to entertain her the whole night and introduce her to some friends, but ten minutes into the party was all it took for. Yelena to get bored with all the frat boys trying to hit on her, and irritated with the girls throwing glares her way. Because of all the attention she was getting from the frat boys.

Kate had her back of course and stopped any situation from getting to out of hand. Knowing it wouldn't end in favor of any of the college kids. The last thing she needed was to end up in jail with Yelena, and having to call Clint to beg him to come bail them out. She promised to keep the former assassin out of trouble. So when Yelena decided it would just be best for her to go and just chill outside. Kate didn't try and stop her although she felt like she failed her friend.

Yelena was watching everyone interact and have fun from the balcony. In her hand was a red cup of an liquor mix that wasn't nearly strong enough for her taste. She wanted nothing more than to call it a night and go home, but she refused to leave Kate behind. About ten more minutes of boredom went by and just when it seemed like she was going to tap out. You walked into the party dressed in dark blue shirt that left your shoulders bare, skintight black jeans, and a black sneakers. You made your way through the crowd radiating such a strong and confident energy. It was like people could feel you coming and automatically knew to get out of your way.

Eventually you found your target and threw your arms around her neck from behind. Kate was in the middle of an a game of beer bong, when she felt a pair of arms around her neck. Caught off guard she jumped and missed her shot. Her opponents let out of chorus of ohs and gave each other high fives. The random girl she was partnered up with let out a frustration groan.

"Come on Kate your friends told me you had perfect aim." The girl complained throwing her hands in the air.

The only thing her attitude got her was a death glare from you that made her flinch. Leaving an arm around Kate's neck you picked up a ping pong ball, and gave it a light toss. The ball landed in one of the guys cup with ease. "Her aim is perfect you're the one holding her back, but I'm pretty sure I can takeover from here."

The girl gulped and nearly fell trying to scramble away as fast as she could. Kate turned to you with a raised eyebrow.

"Seriously y/n did you have to run her off? She was just joking."

"She sounded pretty serious too me plus I'm pretty sure she was the weak link here." You replied with a shrug taking a moment too look around. "Where's Yelena? I thought you were to bring her tonight."

"I did she's around here somewhere hiding out in isolation. This party really isn't her thing I'm pretty sure she almost got into at least five fights." Kate threw another ball not even looking to see if it landed. The guys let out groan letting her know she hit her target.

"That's no fun I'm pretty sure there's a group of people here she'll fit in with. We just got to find them" You insisted.

Kate let out a dry chuckle. "That's easy for you to say y/n you get along with everyone."

It was funny that things played out the way it did Kate met Yelena first, and even though it was under rough circumstances. Eventually the two did become good friends and allies. When Yelena started to help her out on some of her missions, but when you showed up on the scene. Kate had no trouble befriending you at all y'all hit off from the start, and it led to you becoming closer with her more than Yelena. It was just easier to bond with you because you were always down for anything, and had no problem to adapting to whatever event. She would drag you to which surprised her after finding out you came from the same background as Yelena.

The blonde was actually the one who saved you from the mind control, and gave your freedom back. After that you felt like you were in debt to her and joined her mission in freeing. The other widows but once it was over you had bonded with her so much. The two of you stayed in contact and eventually you ended up in New York with her.

"I know she has a group of people at this party she'll fit in. What kind of friends are we if we don't at least try and help her find them? You gave Kate your best puppy dog eyes.

"Alright fine I'm pretty sure these guys have no problem calling this game." She turned to them with a raised eyebrow, and both of them nodded their heads furiously. "I'll find Yelena and you can go and find her people."

"Sounds like a plan" You agreed clapping your hands together and disappearing into the crowd.

Kate let out a sigh shaking her head before heading to find Yelena, and it didn't take long. She was walking past the doors that led to the outside balcony when a hand shot out, and grabbed her arm in a tight grip. The next thing she knew someone had yanked her outside, and pushed her up against the wall, and out of sight. It was none other than Yelena who had a frantic look in her eyes.

"Hey what's wrong? Did something happen?" Kate asked trying to look over the blonde's shoulder for a unconscious person, or worse.

"Calm down Kate Bishop I managed to not kill anyone at this party, and even if I did you wouldn't find them out here with me. I highly doubt you would find them at all." Yelena said

"Well that's comforting and scary" Kate murmured.

"What is y/n doing here? You told me that she wasn't coming tonight."

No I didn't I said I invited her and she never got back to me. Y/N hardly ever does she just kinda pops up most of the time. Is it a problem she's here?"

Yelena ran a hand through her hair letting out a groan. "Yes it is I didn't want to see her."

"You know you've been acting weird about y/n a lot lately. Why are avoiding her?" Kate asked confused.

She looked away as thoughts of you took over mind. A red tint coated her cheeks and she prayed Kate didn't see her blushing. But while the archer wasn't a master spy, or trained in reading body language. She knew the blonde well enough to know not much got her worked up, so her behavior definitely told her something was up.

Then it hit Kate when she remembered how she ended up convincing Yelena to come to the party. In the first place a couple of nights ago the two had went out for drinks after taking down some street thugs. Yelena got a little too drunk for the first time since Kate had known her, and her tongue got loose. The blonde started raving about having a crush on someone, and not understand these new feelings. Kate didn't know if there was any real truth to what Yelena was saying, but nevertheless tried to get a name out of her. Sadly though Yelena refused to identity her crush only subtle hints to who it could be.

But now by combining those subtle hints and the way she was acting now. Kate was able to figure out you were the mystery person Yelena had crush on, and her eyes widened in surprise. When this realization hit her and a giant smile formed on her face. "No freaking way you're in love with y/n."

Yelena slammed a hand over Kate's mouth and looked around to make sure no one heard her. Luckily for her though the balcony was still empty and the music was loud enough to drown their voices out. "Don't be so loud Kate Bishop y/n could show up any minute."

Kate reached up to push Yelena's hand away from her mouth before bursting into laughter. "Calm down she's looking for people that you can bond with."

"Its not funny and you better not tell her."

"You're right its not funny this is freaking cute I never thought I would see the day. Yelena Belova was nervous about a crush this is gold" Kate said.

A dark look formed on Yelena's face, and in a blink of an eye. She gave Kate a sharp jab to the shoulder making her yelp in pain, and rub the spot the blonde hit.

"Easy that hurt keep acting like that and I won't help you."

"It was supposed to hurt and I don't want or need your help Kate Bishop.

Kate snorted "oh yes you do because if you didn't y/n would already be in your arms."

Yelena opened her mouth to argue but closed it when she realized that Kate had made a good point. Ever since she figured out that she had developed feelings for you. She found herself unable to be around you without nearly falling apart and embarrassing herself. The two of you would still see each other and hangout, but she had definitely changed the way she interacted with you, and just prayed you didn't notice.

"Fine but you're not allowed to tell her."

Kate held up her hands in surrender "I won't you're going to do that just follow my lead." With those words she threw an arm around her shoulders and led the blonde back into the party.

They found you in a group circle with other college kids playing another cliche party game. The two of them just hovered right behind you waiting for their moment to get your attention.

"Alright y/n you're up seven minutes in heaven with with Chazz." a brunette girl proposed with a smirk. A burly boy standing next to her with short black hair, and blue eyes pumped his fist in the air.

You snorted crossing your arms across your chest. "Try again he's not worth even half of that time."

The boy opened his mouth to protest but the look on your face left no room for discussion. The brunette laid a hand on his arm to shut him up. "Alright fine if not him how about the hot blonde behind you."

You slowly turned around to see what hot blonde she was talking about. Your eyes landed on Yelena and a smirk appeared on your face as she gave you a quick wave. You turned back to the brunette and nodded. "I'll do it as long as she's cool with it.

Even though they were on the outside of the conservation. Kate and Yelena had still heard the entire debate, but only Kate knew understood what the rules of the game were. Everyone turned to Yelena waiting for confirmation on rather or not she would go. Yelena looked at Kate desperately hoping the archer would help her. And help she did.

"She's totally cool with it" Kate announced giving the blonde a light push forward.

Everyone let out a chorus of cheers and made a path towards a closet. Chazz even went so far to open the door.

Yelena was freaking out on the inside still not knowing what was supposed to happen. But then you held your hand for her to take, and knowing that she could at least trust you. She placed her hand in yours and let you lead her upstairs away from the party, and into an empty bedroom.

You released her hand once the door closed and locked, and took a seat on the bed. Yelena decided to keep standing and remained by the door a few feet from you. Both of you were silent for a few minutes until finally she couldn't take it anymore.

"So what exactly are we supposed to be doing in here?"

"You've never played seven minutes in heaven before."

Yelena shook her head "have you?"

You leaned forward resting your arms on your knees. "Nope no one has ever been worthy enough for me to play with. But I know what is it's basically a game where two people go into a closet or a room and make out for seven minutes."

Her eyes widened at the last part. Kate must have known when she said spoke for her. The archer was dead when she got out of this room if she made it through the night, and didn't die of embarrassment that is. If she thought this was helping she was so wrong.

"Hey calm down you don't have to kiss me if you don't want to. I know this is all new to you, and I want you to be comfortable." You reassured her leaning back on your elbows.

"It's not that I'm just not really sure how to do this."

You raised an eyebrow at her "no offense but with our background I figured kissing is like second nature to us."

Yelena noticed a bottle of vodka on the desk in the corner with a couple of shot glasses next to it. She wasted no time in going over to it and pouring herself a drink. She threw the shot back and turned back to you. "I can't just make out with y/n like it means nothing because it would mean everything to me."

You sat up straighter more focused on what she had to say.

"I don't know when or how it happened but I've developed these feelings for you, and I don't know what to do with them alright. I figured if I stayed away from you long enough the feelings would just go away, but now here we are."

"Is this really such a bad thing?" You asked her getting to your feet to walk over to her.

Yelena tried to back away as you closed the distance, but there was nowhere for her to go. So she placed a hand on your chest to stop you.

"Hey relax I like you too okay why do you think I agreed to come here with you. I swear you've been haunting my dreams for weeks now Belova."

Yelena opened her mouth but no words came out instead she found herself wrapping arms around your waist. You brought your hands up placing them on either side of her face tentatively. Her breath hitched as you leaned forward to press your lips to hers in a soft kiss. Yelena didn't really respond so you pulled away to look her in the eyes.

"Hey is this okay?" You whispered.

She nodded closing her eyes moving to capture your lips with hers again. This time her lips moved in sync with yours and then she was backing you up. Until your knees hit the edge of the bed without breaking the kiss you eased your body back onto the bed with Yelena following you.

Eventually you were laying down on your back with your hands tangled in Yelena's hair. Which had come undone from the ponytail she was on top of you careful not to crush you. Her hands rested on either side of your head caging you in. Her lips parted from yours for just a second for a quick breath before they were back on yours. Time was no longer a concept that existed as you two got lost within each other.

In reality the two of you had been in the room for about fifteen minutes before Kate finally came to check up on you guys. She gave the door three sharp knocks with her knuckle calling out your names. But it neither of you heard her as you opened her mouth to let her tongue in, and the battle of dominance began. But before a winner could be determined. The door opened and Kate let out a gasp covering her eyes.

"Seriously you two were supposed to make out for about five minutes then come out. Not shove your tongues down each other's throats."

Yelena groaned placing a kiss on the side of your mouth before climbing off of you. "Why are interrupting Kate Bishop I thought this was your plan."

"Well it was but now it's getting late and I figured you two would want to get back to the comfort of your own homes." Kate told you with a small victory smile on her face.

"She's right we should really get out of here. I'm pretty sure me and you need to discuss this" You said referring the new relationship.

Yelena couldn't help but blush which made Kate chuckle as she left room to go get the car. You stood up and once again held out your hand for the blonde.

Yelena took a your hand knowing this was just the start.

Taglist: @wandanatvoid @yelenabelovasgf @romanoffomixam @xxromanoffxx @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mellowladyangel @shayzulia @musicinourlips @cyberbonesworld @natashasilverfox @jokertgkk @be-missed

[tinalbion]

Is there still time for request? I just watched trailer for Terrifier 2 and I'm hyped! This may sound strange but can I get Billy Loomis, Art the Clown and Buddy Swanson with contortionist s/o who can twist/move her body in most freakish ways, like she doesn't have bones in her body? (If you ever watched Australia/America Got Talent act from Troy James, imagine that's what s/o can do. That dude scared the shit out of me when I first watched it!)

Omg, I LOVE that guy! His performance was amazing and I love seeing just how people can move like that, it's so wild to me, so I hope you enjoy this request! 

Rating: None

Length: 2k

Billy Loomis

Billy had no idea that you kept such an odd little talent to yourself, and he didn’t know for the longest time until several months into your relationship. You knew that people felt weirded out most times by your talent and you weren’t exactly out there wanting to flaunt it, only in certain circumstances would you show off to people. So tonight had been the night, though neither of you had expected it.

You and Billy were invited to Stu’s party, along with several of your other friends, who knew of your little secret and loved to have you do it when the group was drunk enough. It was a fun little gag and you loved acting as if they were so drunk that they had no idea what they were talking about. Harmless fun. So you and Billy arrived, his arm around your waist as you walked along through the crowds of people and you grabbed a beer, Billy grabbed one, and then you were both off to find a place to sit. Your friend Will greeted you enthusiastically and eyed you with a grin

"Will, don't you dare," you warned as you pointed a finger at him. Billy didn't question it but he was definitely curious. He leaned over toward you and whispered in your ear: "and what are we warning Will not to do, babe?" You wanted to tell him considering he wasn't one to get weirded out or uncomfortable, but you wanted to see his reaction, completely caught off guard as intended.

You shrug with a smile and sip at your beer, then you kiss his cheek and pull away. "You'll see in a bit, promise." He was content with that and continued to enjoy himself although he continued to eye you every so often as the night went on. More drinks were had, games were played, and beer pong proved to be not so fun. You lost, you NEVER lost. So when you finally admitted defeat, Randy turned to you and elbowed Will to get his attention.

“Guess you already know what we’re gonna request for you taking this loss.” You sighed and shook your head, yet the large smile on your face spoke volumes. Billy watched you intently as the crowd of partygoers gathered around your table and kept enough space around you, Randy gathered everyone around as he waved his hands out toward you. “Come on, let’s see what you can do!”

And just like a flip of a switch, you bent backward with ease and then you twisted your body where your hands were planted firmly on the ground as your spine contorted in ways these people never thought possible. There you were walking around as easy as ever and yet your body was twisted at the waist, and you looked like a horrible mangled creature running around on all fours. Some people reacted as you expected, some clapped and cheered for how absolutely fucked up you looked, and then there was Billy, who looked to be in a state between shock and intrigued.

After you finished your little display, you untwisted and stood back to your feet, then grabbed your beer bottle from Randy and sat back in your spot next to Billy. He just stared at you as you sipped at your beer and you scoffed. “What?” He only let out a laugh and shook his head. “You surprise me more and more every day. But uh, would you be opposed if I asked you to try something with me later on?”

You just sighed and shook your head with a grin. “Shut up, Billy.”

Art the Clown

Art had his own little secrets that you never really questioned him about and you guys got along just fine that way, so naturally, there were things about yourself that you hadn’t shared with him yet either. You guys were still learning how to communicate properly and it proved to be challenging, but sometimes you would learn something and you grew excited to get to know Art a bit more. So of course, here you were, seeing him yet again for the umpteenth time this week and you had ever wondered how he exactly felt being around you. You guessed he didn’t mind it since you were still alive and he always seemed to like to make you laugh.

As you continued to make it a routine to show up on a chosen day, you offered him the chance to hang out at your place, so he took you up on that offer, though he didn’t mention that he’d just show up out of the blue one evening with his bag draped over his shoulder, the tiny rocks he threw at your window to get your attention almost made you laugh if you weren’t scared to death at first.

“Jeez Art, you scared me!” You huffed, but you gestured for him to walk around to the front door. It was still early in the evening but you were curious as to why he’d avoid the front door at first, but it didn’t bother you. You offered him something to eat, he said no, then you offered a drink and he accepted water and sat somewhat awkwardly on your sofa. He seemed very out of place when it came to being here, but he did bounce up and down on the sofa a bit. Had a bit of bounce, he liked it. He never really got to be in places this cozy, so you told him he was more than welcome to make himself at home, except maybe he should not cause too much of a mess. He agreed with a devilish smile.

So Art made himself at home and began to walk around the place, allowing himself to check out the various photos and awards you had hung on your walls. He inspected each one and looked on and on as you watched from the doorway. His attention was now caught as he stopped at one award that stuck out more than the others. He leaned in close and saw the gleam of the award with your name engraved on it. It wasn’t your typical award either, but he turned to look at you and pointed to it.

“Oh, that? Yeah, I have sort of a neat thing I can do, I participated in an event and won. Wanna see what I can do?” You caught his attention as he eyed you curiously, and that’s when you placed your hands behind your head as you bent backward and began to move and twist in ways Art couldn’t even begin to comprehend. His jaw dropped and he stared at you as you twisted and moved in such inhuman ways that he was even too stunned to sign, he just stood there in your small living area and didn't move for about two minutes.

After you finished and stood back as normal as could be, Art began to throw his hands wildly and acted surprised as you laughed at his reaction. He was impressed and loved how insane it looked, he figured he could use you when scaring the folks in town during Halloween, or just for the hell of it. It was almost as if you could read his mind and tumbled out with: "I already know you're planning to use this in some way to mess with people, aren't you?" He faked shock, looked around the room, and gestured as if to say: "who, me? I'd NEVER." All you could do was laugh in response.

Buddy Swanson

It was no coincidence that you ended up working behind the scenes at the camp you attended, though you were sent there mainly because it was better than rotting away at home for that summer, so you accepted your fate and went along with it. They needed counselors desperately and since you had experience with kids, it was better than nothing. You approached Roger and had heard about this prestigious camp, though that was a term used rather loosely, and he hired you on the spot.

That's how you got to know Buddy Swanson, number one anti musical man, natural born cook, and an absolute cutie. He was hard not to fall for, but you kept a distance from him for a while until it smacked you in the face. The end of that summer, you both kept in contact and even discovered you both weren't that far away from one another. It started off like a whirlwind romance and you were swept up in it, enjoying whatever turn it took and you both just lived in the moment. It was hard not to do when you were in his company, he made you forget everything that weighed you down, everything that stressed you out. It was only you and him. Which led to you two camping at one point, a real camping experience with a tent and a bonfire, the works.

You both were sharing a couple of drinks when Buddy suggested a game of 'Never Have I Ever', and boy did you regret it. He drank so many times that you were almost willing to lie just to feel a buzz. He laughed at your feeble attempt too, he knew your tell when your eyes shifted away for a moment. "No, I saw that, get that drink away from your lips this instant!" He chucked. You let out a sigh and hung your head low.

"Well what do you want me to do?! I lived a sheltered life, not everyone gets that lucky, you know," you huffed as you gently chucked a small pebble at his shoe. So Buddy thought long and hard of something he figured you would have done, so he leaned back as he kicked a stick from under his boot. "Okay fine," he began, "how about… never have I ever pulled a prank on someone." You threw a hand up and groaned: "FINALLY!" Then you took a long swig and sighed in content. Buddy looked at you expectantly, wriggling an eyebrow. "So? You gonna share the story or what? I mean, you finally got one, hope it's a good story for you to share."

And you did. You went into detail how you had a sleepover when you were about thirteen, you were all sitting in the dark with flashlights held up to your faces, all attempting to scare each other. You rolled your eyes and said you were gonna go and get a drink, so they continued with their storytelling, and what the others didn't know was that you snuck around the hall and waited for them to think you were downstairs, then the floor creaked, they called out to you with no response. So all of a sudden, you scurried into the room on all fours, your body twisted as if you were mangled, and everyone screamed bloody murder. You laughed as you twisted back to normal and your best friend at the time laughed almost as hysterically as you did. "I had a feeling you were gonna do that," your friend remarked, to which one of them replied; "you knew they could do that?!" Safe to say, those kids had nightmares for a few days, and you loved every minute of it.

Naturally, Buddy was insanely curious. "Come on, babe," he said sweetly, "you gotta show me after THAT story!" So you got to your feet and found a decent area where the ground wasn't too uneven and there weren't a lot of ways to injure yourself, and you bent over so gracefully, your limbs moved as if you had no bones, and your torso twisted so easily that you thought Buddy's eyes would pop out of his head. "Damn, Y/N, that's incredible. If I would have known you could do that, I would have worked with you to scare the shit out of the theater kids." You laughed as you got back to your feet and sat down beside him again. "Guess we gotta come up with a plan for next year."

[janis-1987]

The First Time I Saw You (Fizzmodeus Fluff)

Asmodeus sighs as he arrives at the circus, quickly being swarmed by reporters, cameras flashing all around him as he makes his way to the big top. As he enters the tent he's lead up to his viewing box, he takes his seat, the other 4 princes sit beside him, all muttering to each other about how annoying it was to be pulled away from their duties to watch a performance in which all the performers were imps, they all had their phones out and were trying to keep on top of their duties. As Asmodeus looks out over the crowd, he can see the entire goetia family sitting just below them, and he manages to pick out Stolas with his wife, having just been to their wedding a few weeks before, he was surprised they were still together, he thought they would have already divorced, and that's when his eyes land on another viewing box, and he's shocked to see that Lucifer and his wife actually decided to show up, he knew appearances were important but he still couldn't believe they'd make time for something like this. He shudders slightly as he sees all the children in the crowd, having a strong disliking for them.

Finally, the lights dim and a spot light flicks on, in the ring stands none other than Mammon himself, he smiles up at the crowd, "Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, princes and princesses of hell! I welcome you to my show case, I have gathered the best performers in all of hell for you all to witness tonight, including a fiery new comer jester, Fizzarolli, with his robotic limbs you won't believe the feats he can perform, so without further ado, enjoy the show!" He announces before making his way off stage.

Asmodeus rolls his eyes, about to take out his own phone when he sees him.

Fizzarolli appears in the ring and the moment he does, he has the whole audiences attention, he jumps off the high beam and grabs a rope, swinging around the tent before doing a backflip off and landing on his feet with ease. Asmodeus feels his face heat up with blush and he's certain he must look absolutely star struck seeing the little imp.

Fizzarolli smiles at the crowd, Asmodeus can't even focus enough to hear what he's saying, but as another spot light clicks on, and a horse is revealed running full speed at the imp, he can't help but get nervous for him. At the last second, Fizz's limbs stretch and the horse goes under him, he jumps into the air, before landing on the horses back with one arm holding the saddle as he does a handstand. The horse never once slowing down for him, the crowd oohs and ahs at the imps feat as other performers make their way on stage, the acts continue, getting more and more elaborate with stunts that in any other circumstance probably would have broken the performers bones. He can't take his eyes off the imp in the jester hat, and he's laughing along with the audience as he tells his jokes.

"I'm sure a lot of you little kids must be curious about my limbs and if you could get your own," he laughs softly, "well let me tell ya, when your boss says break a leg, they don't mean it literally."

This earns laughter from the crowd and the show continues on.

And all too soon the show ends, the performers taking their final bows as Fizz takes center stage.

"That's our show folks! You've been a great audience and to all the royalty in the crowd, the fun isn't over, Mammon invites you all to stay for the after party! Have a good night!" He calls out as he exits the ring.

Asmodeus is the first out of his seat and quickly makes his way outside, hoping to find the little imp that had stole the show. Only to run into Mammon.

"Ozzie! You made it! Did you enjoy the show?" Mammon asks, clearly pleased after the performance.

"I did, that little imp you have, Fizzarolli, he's a star for sure, your audiences are going to love him." Asmodeus responds, "I'd love to meet him." He blurts out at the last second, without putting much thought into it.

"Well, I'm glad you liked it so much and I couldn't agree more. I managed to swipe him up from a dying circus after an accident." He says, seeming proud of the fact, he then pauses, "Wait, you want to meet him? Ozzie, he's just an imp, all that's special about him is his limbs. But I can't say I blame you, he really steals the show. He'll be at my party and you can tell him how much you enjoyed it, I'm sure he'll love to hear it. Just don't be trying to get in his pants okay?"

Asmodeus laughs, "Don't worry, I'm not interested in him that way." He lies through his teeth, "but after that performance, I'm sure every demon in there is dying to meet him."

"That's what I'm countin on. I want him to be the star of a new business I'm workin on." Mammon replies proudly, "Plus, he could use the encouragement. He's a real pain to deal with with his little ego crisises."

Asmodeus just nods, letting Mammon lead him to the private tent for the party, excited to meet the imp who had already stolen his heart.

[scriptaed]

cherry blossom avenue.

❀ genre: angst/fluff; arranged marriage!au; f2l!au;

❀ pairing: jin x reader; 

❀ length: 23.0k;

❀ synopsis: college would��ve been unbearable if it weren’t for your wallowing sessions with your best friend jin over a shared “forever alone” woe, so it really was only a matter of time until the two of you sealed a shoddy promise to betroth the other at the age of 27. perhaps it was only a silly joke to you then, but you should’ve known better nonetheless; because when a wedding invitation arrives five years later down the road with his name signed next to another’s, feelings that were once buried begin to blossom once again.

“Don’t be a homewrecker.”

What was supposed to be a light-hearted tease over your fleeting glimpses in his direction bears much more weight than even reality should have; and unbeknownst to her, even if your friend’s commentary strikes a fear in you, a fear that has some creature eating away at you and a horrifying drop in the twisted pain of your chest, the daunting knowledge of a potential truth behind her words pale in comparison to the anguish brought upon by a familiar face of the past. 

Because even as you stand far and hidden behind the crowd of overly dressed classmates and unacquainted businessmen all painted by a silhouette of dimmed black, you manage to observe him through the few albeit sure opportunities; for when the passersby chatter, cross, and weave through the lavish ballroom floor at the perfect time, place, and space for you to peep through the pinholes seemingly formed by pure happenstance or a cruel wish casted upon by fate, the clock returns to a buried state of mind.  

It’s a state of mind seven years stale, mistakenly manifested and deliberately buried. It’s a transition in mindsets when fondness sours into a longing for something that could never be, for his reciprocation of affections means much less than its origins. It’s a heavy moment when you’re finally sure he would never come to speak the language of your enamored being. It’s that fractured frame in time when everyone freezes in their tracks but a reverberating pain transcends the laws of the universe, almost as if on a personal quest to oust you; and even if you vehemently down yourself with another magical shot of liquor, nothing can quite ease the internal war stirring within.

One hand grasping a glass of red wine worth much more than a month of your salary and one arm crossed under the bosom draped over by your only presentable black satin slip dress, you’re almost numb to the turmoil that is irony. How cruel is it that even after seven years of having believed you had moved on, nothing has really changed after all? Your heart still melts in the wake of his dorky grin, your chest still winces over the buried buds of a coveted love, and your blood still runs intoxicated by the presumption that this phase of infatuation would pass with time. 

Your friendship, your feelings, your shared promise, a youth that no one had paid witness to except for you, him, and that cherry blossom tree down that street, nothing has really changed. In fact, you feel as though you could still march across this room and nonchalantly probe at your best friend’s cheek with the ultimate goal of eliciting a shriek from your best friend. 

And yet, the circumstances that have brought you back to him in this very room must have been the one cruel exception. 

“A ‘homewrecker?’” you feign a light-hearted chuckle, swirling your drink and taking another sip as you peek at the distorted glass-image of the man and the woman beside him. “And why would you say something as horrifying as that?”

“Didn’t you say you and, what’s his name,” Alex pauses before nearly gasping, “ah, Seokjin! Didn’t you say you two used to be best friends in college? You might have been his best friend but she’s his fiance now, Y/N! Plus, she’s got a baby in her, too.” 

She might have been joking, and it really should have been if you had been truthful about your feelings for said best friend, but maybe this is the price you’re paying for so dutifully holding onto your dignity; so, instead, the deep undercut of her remark instigates a stirring irritation within you. Raising a questioning brow at your friend is all you can muster without spilling your secret as well as your brewing storm. 

“Oh, so you actually do remember what I say when you’re only a minute from blacking out?” 

“Hey,” your friend recognizes the anger seeping through your body language, stifling a giggle as she tries to bump your elbow and stumbles over her heels, “it was a joke, okay? I’m just looking out for my friend!”

“Right, what is there to even look out for?” 

“Well,” she points a finger at the direction you had just been staring off into a minute prior and leans in to whisper, “you’ve been staring at the newly engaged man for much longer than the woman beside him, if that says anything—”

“—uhuh, as if, hey!” you almost yelp as you help her stand upright once again. A scoff of disbelief escapes your lips over the sight of your friend letting herself go. Grabbing her glass and swiftly placing it onto the tray of the many passing waiters, you squish her cheeks and give her a light pat or two. “The only person you need to worry about is yourself. Why are you even wearing those ungodly stilettos when you can’t even wear kitten heels without whining all day at work?”

“Hey,” Alex pouts, bending one knee and jutting her hips to show off those torturous pink devices on her feet. “I told you about my ex from high school, don’t you remember?”

“So it’s okay if you’re trying to impress an ex from high school, but I’m not even allowed to glance at my old best friend?” you quip, pressing your lips into a thin line as you take another gander at your friend up and down. “And what does excessive drinking even have anything to do with it?” 

She flashes you a mischievous grin, “for confidence.”

“I can’t with you,” the roll of your eyes must have agreed, “and what about the classmate friend who actually invited you to her engagement party?”

“Oh,” Alex glances at the woman beside Jin and shrugs, “she’s alright. She’s that typical good girl. Too smart, too kind, too good at everything that you really want to hate her but have no reason to do so. I’m sorry, Y/N, but your best friend is devilishly handsome and I’m not surprised she’s marrying someone of her league.” 

“Pfft, why are you apologizing to me?” you scoff, ushering her to the washroom and shaking your head along with the stream of confusing emotions that hit you like a truck. “Go wake yourself up before she or, gasp, worse yet, your ex spots you.” 

“Oh my God, you’re right,” she gasps, shuffling in her skintight red bodycon dress and whirling around once more to call out before finally disappearing, “let me know if any boy comes looking for me!” 

“Uhuh, yeah, sure,” you shoo her away, taking another sip from your glass and muttering under your breath, “...how am I supposed to recognize your high school classmates?”

Now that your friend is gone and you’re left all alone to your thoughts, you go against your own advice and down another glass of liquor. 

You may have been his best friend but she is his fiance. 

Well, if Alex is a good judge of character, then at least a good man like your best friend has found an equally respectful woman. It might have hurt to hear her words, but Alex isn’t exactly wrong. At the very least, you could sigh in relief having known you’re genuinely happy for your best friend’s future. 

It’s just that the truth hurts sometimes. 

Relief isn’t an excuse for lingering onto a soon-to-be-married man, regardless of when these emotions came about. 

People are chattering all around you, strangers and former acquaintances are bustling about, familiar college classmates are greeting the bride-to-be’s high school classmates, and yet here you are: aloof and isolated even in a room of hundreds, fixated and more distant than you have ever been to the boy you had once cherished as the closest anyone could get to knowing the real you. 

No one would know but Jin. 

The real you.

The you who could not have moved on because she couldn’t recognize her own feelings until seven years down the road with a wedding invitation in hand, seven years after the buds had been sowed, seven years too late. 

The one who stands pathetically here in the corner of a room, secretly hoping for him to approach her but also wishing for the night to pass unnoticed just like she had wished for her buried affections to pass.  

So you shuffle in place awkwardly, pondering whether you should’ve caved into Alex’s pleas and attended this posh get-together, debating whether you should dip once your friend realizes her high school ex just isn’t worth it, sipping the remainder of opulent liquor and taking one last peek at the boy, when, your heart strikes loudly against your chest…

...because his eyes catch yours, a pair amongst hundreds, one invitee amidst an endless swarm of crowds, almost as if on a planned rendezvous, a secret unbeknownst to everyone in the room but the two of you.

Eyes widening in shock, the drums of your chest hammer against you, each strike pumping a nearly painful high that fuels your fight or flight mode. The debate between confronting your longtime friend and fleeing said friend did not even cross your mind at the start of the predicament. Quickly whirling around, head down and hands gripped to your drink, your feet move on its own. 

A familiar series of clicks echo against the polished marble tiles. You don’t even have to turn around to recognize those homecoming footsteps, those awe-inspiring confident strides as he makes his way across the room. If this were you from seven years ago, you would have welcomed him with open arms and he would have claimed you were just acting sweet to bargain for some fresh pastry, but the unfamiliarity of a stranger you have yet to reconcile with has you in an unexplainable panic. 

After all, it’s hard to explain why exactly his persistent pursuit after you, after seven years of distance, both emotional and physical, frustrates you to no ends. 

Your hands form fists, your feet storm down the halls, and your mind could repeat nothing but the words you had excused as “just a light-hearted joke.” 

You may have been his best friend but she is his fiance. 

Don’t be a homewrecker.

A baby in her.

A baby.

His fiance. 

A homewrecker.

The accusations echo and echo, as though screaming at you in the endless cave that is your mind, until the party fades, the crowd disappears, and the ear-piercing classical music wanes against the walls of your temporary solace, the bathroom. Finally, entrapped in a world of black—black tiles, wine colored walls, and dark red roses perched on top of what seems to be a black granite sink—you’re left alone to your thoughts. 

Alex wouldn’t understand a seven-year-long regret because she doesn’t know the real history between you and Jin. In fact, no one invited to this engagement party nor does anyone in this whole mansion know of the soon-to-be groom’s past. 

It isn’t as simple as people might make it out to be on the surface, because no one but you, Jin, and the street down your block had paid witness to a shoddy, spontaneous promise that should have never been made. 

Turning on the faucet and splashing a fresh handful of cold water onto your face, your eyes eventually wander from the stream of water that flows down the drain up along the glass bowl of a sink and into the mirror to meet the sullen eyes of a girl, seven years older with a stain of regret that spans much longer that a mere seven years. 

❀ ❀ ❀

“Waaah,” the boy exclaims as you watch your own reflection narrow its eyes at the image beside you. The spectacle persists to angle his chin every which way until he’s finally satisfied with the protrusion of his jawline; and as the boy resumes his daily activity of marveling at himself in awe, you have to wonder once again, for the hundredth time by now, just how you two had possibly become best friends. “Looking good, Jin. Looking real good.”

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes and feign nausea, “narcissist.” 

Jin pauses in the midst of his inspection, allowing his phone to settle into his lap and turning to glance at you with his head as high—well, almost as high—as his ego. “When you look as good as this,” he gestures at himself and your eyes follow his crafty fingers up and down, “don’t even try to tell me you wouldn’t be all up in yourself.”

You blink your eyes blankly and start with the most accusatory tone you could muster, “excuse you, Kim Seokjin, but are you saying that I don’t look good?” 

“You’re insisting that yourself, not me! It’s not my fault you can’t appreciate your God-given looks,” Jin raises his hands mercifully and you almost miss his latter, back-handed compliment when you become entranced by those double-jointed fingers of his. “Plus, I said ‘when you look as good as this.’”

“Psh, yeah,” you mumble, “and yet here you are, still as forever alone as ever.”

“Hey,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes at you even as he raises his phone to take yet another selfie, “and what does that say about you?”

“...and that’s exactly why,” you chirp as you hastily smush your cheek against his and throw a peace sign just as he snaps a photo, “we’re gonna be forever alone together!” 

“Hey, why’re you ruining my selfie—” he pauses in the middle of his camera roll “—oh, we actually look good.”

Glimpsing at one of many candid photos of you and him, a helpless smile spreads across your lips. A warm breeze blows and you can practically smell the impending spring that breathes life into the pink buds hovering on the cherry tree above you. The sun’s embrace against your bare legs that lie beside your best friend’s on the red and white checkered picnic is a perfect compliment to the equally bright phenomena that are his high-pitched giggles; and like the many days you’ve spent the past year, the only thing that could possibly elevate this moment of serenity would be a bite of his weekly pastry batches.  

Speaking as you chow down on the carbs, you quip, “you mean you look good?” 

“That, too, but I meant us, together—” he articulates, cutting himself off abruptly when he snaps his head to find you digging into one of his many bread “—hey, who said you could start testing without me?!” 

“Too many selfies, too slow, too hungry,” you lean your head back to plop the remainder of the custard-filled bread into your mouth, “shmorry Jin, but dish ish delicious.”

Just as you lean forward and take another large bite out of the batch, Jin catches right up to you, snatching the remainder and plopping it right into his now-stuffed cheeks instead. Lips falling agape at the disappearance of your bite-size donut, you gawk at your best friend whomst chomps happily away with your piece in his mouth. 

You can still recall the heat of your cheeks after the first time he had ever proclaimed something that was yours as his—in fact, it wasn’t much long ago when Jin had nearly regurgitated a mouthful of mocha frappuccino after discovering you had sneaked in a sip or two prior—but now? Sharing commodities has become such second nature to you two that sometimes you wish he could return to his germophobic days just so you can hog all the food…

...and maybe to relive whatever magical flutters that had befallen you on that very first day.

“Of coursh ish delicious!” he manages to exclaim incoherently. “Kim Sheokjin baked it afta all!” 

“Yeah,” you take a long moment to gulp and make room for more food, “I think I prefer the ones with custard—”

“—so it’s a perfect batch just like m—”

“—almost perfect.”

You could see yourself wink through the prideful glint in his eyes quickly plummet into a glare that has you laughing at the downfall of his indestructible ego. His playful glare through the corner of his narrowed eyes silently commences yet another one of your daily staring challenges. Maybe that’s why the two of you made such a perfect pair amongst the thousands of classmates at school. After all, how would Jin ever find someone as tolerant of his incessant dad jokes and perpetual ego as you are? And how would you ever find someone who would bake you goods and cook you lunch and, not to mention, spout such peculiar humor? 

All of your classmates had dubbed the two of you as the perfect comedy duo—the dumb and the dumber, the silly and the sillier—that, apparently, is the essence of a match made in heaven, albeit probably meant to be more platonically than romantically. 

Both too stubborn to lose, even in a meaningless game of a staring contest, not even the heat of the sun rays that has you two nearly sweating bullets could deter the match. Eventually, seconds turn into minutes and minutes turn into a frenzy frozen moment in time as you start to fall into the sudden abyss you found yourself in that is the warmth pool of his eyes. 

Perhaps it’s the angle at which the rays strike theatrically on the apples of his cheeks, illuminating his dewy skin and enhancing the chocolate hues of his orbs hidden underneath the matching brown locks of his all whilst his eyes happen to be staring right back at you. You’ve never quite felt this way before—heart palpitating, throat constricting, and mind panicking—but for the first time ever, you’re hesitant in allowing your best friend to peer through the windows to your soul. 

This isn’t good. What would he do if he were to discover your frenzy? Would he tease you to no ends? 

Worse yet, would he falsely assume that you’re hardcore crushing on him…?

“Oh God,” you blurt out, breaking eye contact to avert your head to the side across the street. Your lips begin to mumble whatever comes first to mind, “uh, wow, look at that couple. Ugh, PDA—” your eyes flicker to find Jin raising a brow just before your eyes avert once again and he follows your line of sight “—am I right?” 

“Oh c’mon! Just admit it,” Jin chides. “You’re only using this to disguise the fact that you were just about to blink, weren’t you?” 

“I was not about to blink,” you insist but your shifty gaze tells the both of you otherwise, even if the true lack of confidence is unbeknownst to Jin. “You suck at staring contests. How many times have I won before? I was just distracted, okay?”

“Oh yeah?” Jin crosses his arms. “Distracted by what, then? Huuuh? By my devastatingly good looks?”

“No!” you exclaim almost too adamantly that you have to add in a nervous laugh at the end, which only has Jin staring at you in utter disbelief. Feigning an apologetic pressed smile, you gesture your hands in the direction of the couple supposedly hidden behind a fence but clearly exposed to those on a hill, otherwise known as you two. “I meant them—”

“—ew!”

The both of you exclaim in unison, selflessly covering the tarnished eyes of the other and ducking away from the moment of intimacy that you two had just intruded on. 

“Aw, cmon! Even after graduation, too?” Jin remarks, mouth gaping and hands falling from your shielded eyes only to be thrown to his side in bewilderment. “Does everyone really have to remind us just how lonely we are even on our last day?” 

“You mean how lonely we are and how lonely we will be for the rest of our lives?”

“For the rest of our lives?” Jin quirks a brow at you before shaking his head and shrugging. “Dang, that wasn’t exactly my plan, because the world will be forced to acknowledge my looks sooner or later, but I mean, in your case…”

“What?!” you gasp in disbelief, slapping his arm hard enough for him to wince. “What do you mean ‘in your case?’ I bet you haven’t even kissed someone yet!” 

Jin snarls at you as he pulls his arm back and retorts, “yeah? And I bet you haven’t either!” 

“Actually, I have, with Joon at that party last year,” you say smugly, crossing your arms with a chin held high, “and you just admitted you haven’t had your first kiss yet.”

“Psh, yeah, I haven’t, and?" the boy holds his head high akin to a child arguing with his body and not with his words. “Because I prefer to save it for something meaningful unlike someone here.” 

“Hey, are you insinuating that it wasn’t meaningful?”

“You’ve always told me how much you hated parties!” he throws his hands up. “Plus, you don’t even like Joon! You said his breath stinks!” 

“Well—” you pause but no words come to you except for a loud grunt “—ugh, fine. You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” he turns away, leaning into his right hand with an elbow propped against his crisscrossed lap. “I’m Kim Seokjin, after all.” 

Following suit, you mumble into your propped hand, “I guess that’s why we’re friends in the first place. Together and, yet, still forever alone.”

“Hey, I said I don’t plan on being forever alone.”

“Right, right,” you brush him off, “tell me that when you actually get a girlfriend—actually, tell me that when you find someone to marry who doesn’t run for their life just one month into your relationship.” 

“‘Marry?!’” he gawks at your demand. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and you’re talking about marriage?!”

“What?” you turn to face him, cheek resting in hand. “Didn’t you say the world would soon recognize your charms?”

“Hmph, well,” he says with a jutted lower lip, “definitely sooner than you.”

“Really?” you gape at his bold proclamation despite clearly being the one with the upperhand. “You really think you’re gonna get married before me?” 

Your best friend doesn’t even bother glancing at you before answering, “bet.”

“Okay, if you win, then I’ll eat the crust to your breads whenever you want. I’ll even throw in a bonus for you and spare your wife from having to see fetus photos of you in college,” you can only snicker at the lightbulb that goes off in his widened eyes. “And if I win, then you’ll have to eat my crust and delete all the ugly photos you have of me on your phone.”

“Sorry, can’t do. That would take me an eterni—”

“—shut up.” 

“Okay, fine, bet,” he cackles, straightening his back and stretching his arms out before him, “and what if neither of us ever get married?”

“Hm,” you purse your lips, “good point. Should we set a time cap to our bet? Ideally, if I want to have a stable job and income by 25, have children by 30, enjoy two or three years of marriage without kids, then…”

“Why do you have to have children by 30?” Jin frowns. “Why set all these unrealistic standards on yourself?” 

Putting a finger to hush his lips, you almost find yourself distracted by the plush warmth against your skin. Quickly, you answer, “long story short: parents.”

“Ah,” he utters even as your fingers are pressed to his lips, “ditto.” 

“Let’s set the cap to 27,” you propose. “If neither of us get married by the age of 27, then we’ll just call off the bet. But damn—” the two of you simultaneously lean your chins into your palms “—that means we’re really gonna be a disappointment to our parents forever, huh?” 

A loud, heavy sigh escapes the both of you; and while you stay pouting into your hands, staring into the fresh green grass on the downside of the hill off in the distance, Jin props his hands back against the blanket and cranes his neck back to look off into the distant sky. You hadn’t noticed it until now, but for a devilishly dashing guy like Jin—broad shoulders, facial features that could only be gifted, and a prominent Adam’s apple, especially with his head rolled to the back like this—you have to admit his lonely status must have been much more of a choice to Jin than it is for you; because even for someone like you, his best friend who gets to stare at his profile for as long you desire in all its glory, you have yet to become desensitized to his dazzling visuals that is anything but normal.

As much as you hate to admit it, even now, with a clear blue sky, an array of warm pastry aroma, and a field of freshly cut grass, you can’t help but become enamored by the person before you. 

And when another sigh befalls his lips and the two of you have settled into a comfortable silence and a breeze passes by the both of you, rustling a dozen or so of the hovering cherry petals to grace the surrounding air, he speaks. 

“Let’s get married if we’re still single by then.” 

“...huh?”

“I said,” only his eyes move to peer down at you effortlessly, “if we both lose the bet, then let’s get married.”

Your eyes pop and you can only utter the few words that reach you, “to each other?” 

“No, to food,” he says sarcastically, grabbing a piece of his bread and stuffing your face with it when you continue to stare at him and he shuffles awkwardly in place. Looking away, he mumbles, “of course to each other, who else, dummy?”

“Uh….huh,” you blankly nod your head as a series of laughs are stifled by the bread. “Okay, and you’re being serious?”

He doesn’t look at you when he answers, “uhuh.”

“Pffft, and you’re saying you would keep that promise? That you would even remember this moment? We’re just gonna marry? Like that? And you’re assuming I’m just going to agree?”

“Hey,” he turns to frown at you, “why wouldn’t you agree? I’m offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

Munching down on the bread, you continue to play along in amusement, “really? And what exactly are you offering me? You know I have high standards, right? I’m not just going to accept any proposal.”

“I know. That’s why you’re still single…” the boy deadpans, even as you glare at his remark, “...but, that’ll all change when you witness my proposal! Hear me out. First, I’ll cook every meal for you for the entire day.”

“You almost already do that except for breakfast.”

“Okay, but I’ll hone my skills by then. It’ll be even better than any restaurant we’ve ever been to.”

You raise a brow, “so you think food is the way to my heart?”  

“No offence, but yes, that’s why we’re friends,” he quips before continuing, “second, I’ll bring flowers to you at work. Everyone at your job will be burning with jealousy!”

“Because of your public display of affection, which we both clearly disdain?” 

“No, because they would wonder how you have such a handsome boyfriend like me!” he wags his finger. “Plus, who doesn’t like a little PDA when they’re about to be proposed to?” 

“Okay, fair enough, but those are two promises you’re making for the proposal. A marriage is a lifelong commitment. Why would I want to marry you just for food and flowers?”

“Hmmm, even for someone like you, I’m surprised you have so many requirements,” Jin hums, tapping his finger on his chin. “How about this, I’ll make three more promises for our marriage.”

“Quit saying ‘our marriage,’ I keep shuddering at the thought of it,” you remark as you rub your arms. 

“Third promise, I won’t break your achey breaky heart,” he deliberately emphasizes each word in a fruitful attempt to send shivers down your spine. “Fourth promise, I’ll remember all of my promises.”

“Okay… and fifth?”

“I’ll keep all of my promises! And I’ll do it all right here at this spot. Our spot.”

“What? That’s dumb,” you giggle. “Just keep it at four, then.”

“No,” he grabs the bagel in your hands and fills his mouth without a second of hesitation, “ish eashier to wememba fibe promishesh.”

“Right, right, right,” you nod, pressing your lips in a vain attempt to muffle your chuckles. “And what promises would you want me to make?”

“You?” he quirks a brow before shaking his head. “Nothing. You’re fine. I like you just the way you are.”

Huh. Has Jin always been this nice? Because you don’t quite recall ever feeling the heat of an oncoming blush of your cheeks or the bashful flutters that come with your best friend’s witty remarks. Maybe the topic of marriage has thrown you off today or maybe it’s the aftermath of a high having just graduated college and being thrusted into adulthood, but the stretched smile that adorns your lips is an undeniable fact that your confidence and spontaneity has reached its pinnacle.

Grinning, you lean across Jin’s lap to grab and unlock his phone to access the camera, “okay, wanna take a photo to commemorate this moment?”

“Gee, if you want a photo of me that bad, you could just ask me to send you a selfie, y’know—what the,” Jin starts to cackle when you raise the phone into the air and suddenly press your cheeks against his without warning. With a side-finger gun to frame his cheeks and chin, your best friend readies his pose as you wear a mischievous smile. “Hurry up and take the picture already, Y/N. My time is money.” 

“Hey Jin,” you call out to him with your eyes still fixated to the phone screen, as does his. 

The boy almost drags his words, “now what?”

“You’ve never had a girl kiss you on the cheeks before either, right?”

“What—”

—click.

“There,” you chirp jubilantly, grinning at the stunned look on his face, his eyes popping and his lips just slightly parted but failing to utter a single word as his hand grazes the spot on his cheeks where your lips had just touched, “now you have zero excuses to forget our promise!”

❀ ❀ ❀

That must have been the last time you had met up with Jin in person. Shortly after graduation, the two of you had parted ways as many are forced to do in order to embark on their lives as full-fledged adults. Being born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Jin had been lucky enough to receive a job offer straight out of college with the help of family connections; although, even without his family name, you whole-heartedly believe he still would have managed on his own based off of his unparalleled work ethic that you had the chance to witness firsts-handedly. 

On the other hand, your parents had advised you to stay home, which happened to mean you would be stuck in the same town of your college, until you finally landed a decent job where you had met Alex and established a new life. Unfortunately, like life always does, all that busywork meant sacrificing contact with your best friend somewhere along the way.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

“Ah, shit,” you mutter under your breath as you stop in the midst of your tracks down the black-marbled hallway, gritting your teeth and composing yourself just as you’ve done countless times around your less than friendly colleagues. Taking a deep breath in and out, you put on a pleased smile and whirl around to find the face of a familiar boy in your most recent reveries. “Ahh, hey, Jin... It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Ah,” the man, who seems to have grown at least or three inches since you had last seen him, scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight… how have you been?”

This is awkward. So painfully awkward. 

“Me? Oh, I’ve been alright. Life. Adulting. You know the drill,” you press a thin smile. “Actually, I’m surprised to be seeing you here tonight. I still remember us whining all throughout college over being forever alone, and yet here we are… at your engagement party… life can be funny, huh?” 

“Y—” he stutters, scratching the back of his neck “—yeah… it can be.” 

“So,” you chirp in a fruitless attempt to lift the suffocating atmosphere, “the wedding is coming up pretty soon! Feeling good or is someone getting cold feet?” 

He shakes his head weakly, “I wear socks to sleep.” 

“Wh—” you pause for a quick second, blinking blankly at his soft chuckle and following suit shortly after “—why do your jokes sound like you’re 22 again?” 

The man shrugs with a helpless smile hinted in the corners of his lips; and when it happens—you don’t know how or when the silence had whisked you away into a past time—you find him gazing at you with that fondness of a sole friend who endlessly shared and fought informidable woes with you. Perhaps you’re a hopeless romantic frozen between the fork of two roads that have long closed, for you swear you can see your own reflection through his warm brown eyes and you surmise the only possible answer to the question that lingers in your mind. 

He must see the same friend in you, that girl he would only call friend.

“You’ve been preparing your whole life for this, or, actually, maybe I should say we’ve been preparing,” you smile to stifle the lurching ache in your chest, “I guess I’m the only fool waiting for her turn now.” 

A weep cracks the laugh you force out of your knotted throat. Immediately, you turn your head to avoid his watchful gaze and tuck a lock of hair behind an ear whilst discretely ridding any traces of waterworks welling in your vision. You think you must have gotten away with the feigned laugh and turn, a routine you had mastered at your previous work, but the gradual dissolution of the curve on his lips settles into an unreadable flatline more resembling a frown than anything; because even after all these years, he can still read you like an open book. 

So, if he could see through your every facade even now, then why does he not remember? You know you shouldn’t hold it against him, such a silly promise built on a lonesome pair of naive hearts,  but you can’t help it when a single word paints your conscience. 

Why?

Why can’t he remember? 

Your shared promises, your birthday, your memories, and... you?

“Y/N,” Jin begins gently, hesitating in place once he takes a step forward and you flinch, “about the wedding date…”

He waits for you to reply, supposedly for ‘whenever you were ready’, as he always does during those fragile lows of yours. 

To avoid letting loose any more unneeded drama, you can only manage a hum, “mm?”

“I…” he pauses and sighs. “I know it’s your birthday.”

A hitch in your breath is audible. You clamp your lips tightly and nod, uttering lowly, “yeah.”

“I want you to know I didn’t decide the date, Y/N,” he says firmly, “my father did.” 

“And?” you quip suddenly, eyes darting to shoot a glower deadly enough for him to twitch in evident hurt. There, you went ahead and did it. As hard as you had spent the past months muting your rawest reaction to the envelope in your mailbox, all the pent up frustration and sheer sorrow for a lost future came whiplashing just as hard. “And you couldn’t tell your father to change the date? Maybe one day after? Or two?” 

“You know I would have asked if I could, Y/N,” he bites his tongue to state sternly, “but how would he understand? Change it for… for what—”  he laughs cruelly in the midst of his burst “—for the birthday of a best friend I lost contact with for five whole years?! That’s so… so dumb—” 

“—dumb…?”

The crack in your voice leads to a stagnant silence over what is clearly a no man’s land. Betrayal visibly paints across your face, the momentary display of having wronged his closest ally stains his own. 

“Sorry, I didn’t meant that...”

“‘...yeah, you’re right,” you scoff, “I’m dumb for waiting five whole damn years’ because you wouldn’t fucking text me or call me to ask how I was doing!”

“Me?” he asks in disbelief, gawking and pointing an accusatory finger. “You wouldn’t even pick up your phone! I called you for a month after I moved!” 

“I couldn’t pay for my phone, alright?! I was living with my parents and scrambling to find a job, any fucking low wage job, and I couldn’t sit all day in my room waiting for your calls because I’m not born with a silver spoon stuck in my ass!” 

At this point, the conversation had somehow contorted into an all out brawl of words, a challenge to see who could blame the other for the unsaid confessions lost in communication. The two of you staring down the other, chest heaving and jaws clenching and brows knitting, if it weren’t for your fortunate location tucked in the hallway hidden from the main room, you would not have allowed yourself to fall, lost somewhere in the depth of his eyes. 

“Why are you so upset?” a weak, hopeless laugh tumbles from his confused, pained expression. “Aren’t you supposed to be happy for me?” 

“I—” something gets caught in your throat and you have to choke it out “—I am. I am happy for you. I’m not upset, no…”

Jin reaches a hand out to your cheek when he notices your tears but immediately retracts his notion when you flinch backwards. The boy frowns in concern, “Y/N… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. How did I upset you?”

“Nothing,” you frantically shake your head that hangs low, using the back of your hands to smear every sign of contradiction on your face. “I just—” your breath shakes and an impending series of hiccups begins to kick in “—I’m silly. I should be happy for my best friend. I mean, I am happy. I’m just being dumb.” 

“What?” Jin carefully takes a step forward. “No you’re not—”

“—I’m dumb, okay, Jin?” you finally muster the courage to lift your sights to find his own confused ones. “It’s been five whole years and I’m embarrassed for taking a joke of a promise so seriously when my best friend doesn’t even remember making it!” 

The scrunch in his brows and lost resolution only reverberate the deafening ache in your chest. “The promises…? Y/N, I—”

“—it’s fine,” you blurt. Shaking your head and stumbling backwards, you look him straight in the eyes to say your last words before the fading knocks of your heels against the wood are all that he hears. “It's my fault for believing in a foolish fairytale anyways.”

❀ ❀ ❀

It’s almost like a fever dream when you recall just how confidently you had spat those spiteful words and furthermore dared to depart with that sheer satisfaction and the slightest aftertaste of alcohol residing on your tongue that night; but now that you’re awake, sober, and without the power of liquor, there’s nothing that can pull you out of your greatest nightmare most recently manifested into reality. 

“Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do that?” 

The incessant grumbles tumble freely from your lips whilst you pace back and forth in the corner of the office. Typically, your colleagues would describe you as composed, reserved, and the level-headed half of an otherwise wild pair with Alex. This morning, however, they begin to question everything they’ve ever known about you as they watch through the corner of their averting eyes. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone!” Alex hisses under her breath along with the threatening glares she shoots at the audience. Considering how long you’ve been going at your mental breakdown, it doesn’t take very long for your shuffling footsteps and mumbling gibberish to transcend into yet another white noise in the office; and once the majority of the passersby settle on the new revelation of your hidden crazed nature, Alex hastily storms to your side as you begin banging your head against the wall. “Why would you throw a tantrum at your best friend’s engagement party?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying…” you pause momentarily to groan before proceeding to damage whatever is left of your seemingly deteriorating brain. “Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do—”

“—not to mention, an ex best friend who never even knew about your unrequited feelings—”

—she comes to an abrupt stop when she finds the deadliest scowl in your dart-like eyes. No words are exchanged but the lethal consequences are clear enough to grant you her silence and the continuance of your destruction. 

“Why the hell did I do that, Alex?” you whimper, taking a break from your antics because, damn, your forehead is really starting to hurt. “Whyyyyyyy did you have to leave me alone? Maybe Jin wouldn’t have found me and I wouldn’t have had to confront him over something that shouldn’t even matter anymore! I-I barely even know him… it’s been five years and, suddenly, here I am, voila! At his engagement banquet, yelling in his face and getting mad over feelings that aren’t even his fault!” 

“I told you to go easy on the alcohol.”

“I told you to go easy on the alcohol,” you retort. Taking a deep breath, you let out a sigh along with the scowl plastered across your face. Your next words come out more as a helpless confession of fear than a rhetorical question to be answered. “Do you think he… hates me…?”

Alex observes you for a lingering second, perhaps contemplating between a merciful albeit exacerbating answer and a merciless albeit helpful answer. She speaks carefully, treading dangerous water, “well… would you like him to?”

“I don’t know,” you shut your eyes to heave yet another sigh because that weight in your chest refuses to leave you alone. An unapologetic swinging of the door and a series of loud, wide strided footsteps that follow have your brows furrowing and it takes everything in you and Alex, judging by the sudden shuffles you hear by your side, to finish the rare heart-to-heart conversation. “I think… I think if he hated me, maybe that would extinguish that part of me from the past. If he hated me, I would be able to get over it. Maybe I would hate him too, out of spite, but at least I would be able to get over—””

“—it…? Over what, Y/N?”

Over what? It takes you much longer than it should have for you to surmise the most probable answer to her question, an answer you were never willing to admit and an answer you aren’t quite sure you’re ready to admit even now. 

“You know what I’m implying, Alex,” you sigh, shutting your eyes even tighter when a rising heat marks your cheeks. “I want to get over—”

—but your words are cut short by a familiar voice that has your heart racing and striking an unprecedented strife in the mayhem that is your systemic state...

“You can’t possibly hate me, Y/N,” he proudly proclaims and you can practically hear him smiling, “no one ever hates Kim Seokjin.” 

...and when your eyes finally flutter open, you find the man, who had only seemed like a phenomenon of your feverish dream a second ago, standing before you and adorning that signature smile with raised cheek apples and crescent-like eyes that has yet to change under the influence of time and distance. 

“W-What are you doing here…?” you barely manage to utter. Eyes flickering around your surroundings, from Jin’s broad shoulders that shield nearly the entirety of a helpless albeit buoyant Alex, to your colleagues who fail to discreetly whisper over the lavishly suited mystery of a man, and finally back to the bouquet of pastel flowers wrapped with a bright pink bow. Brows furrowing, you struggle to organize your thoughts and even go so far as to check for the dent in your reddish forehead in a vain attempt to dispel the mind tricks. When the mirage before you fails to dissipate into thin air like sand, you slowly turn to face the wall again only to have your antics disrupted by his refreshingly cold hand on your burning forehead ; and when you turn, you find Jin’s mischievous smile growing wider by the second. “H-how do you know where I work…?”

“I’m your best friend, Y/N. Have you somehow forgotten after all that head banging?” Jin scoffs in disbelief, gawking with a chuckle. Suddenly, he leans in to grab your right hand firmly in his own, squeezing twice as he had always done and leading you toward the exit. “C’mon, let’s go recover those memories of yours, eh?” 

“Wait, wait,” you nearly stumble over your own feet at the pace he’s going, struggling to catch your breath when he bursts through the last door and a blast of freezing wind envelops the clash of the heat reverberating from your beating heart. “I have to go back! I still have work! And, and… and where in the world are you even taking me?” 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Y/N, so many dumb questions for someone who always topped my grades,” the boy holds the bouquet of flowers out toward you, refusing to continue until you reluctantly accept his gift with your left hand against your chest. Smiling at your reluctant acceptance, Jin turns his back on you and proceeds to march into the parking lot but his now warm hands intertwined with your now cold hands never loosens its grip. 

It’s been a long five years of waiting to finally relish in the hold of his familiarly slim, often teased albeit self-praised double-jointed hands, but, now that you’re finally living in it, you’re sure it was all worth it… even if the crashing flames at the end of this road is an inevitable, foreseeable future.

“Jin,” you frown as you stare at Jin’s opening of the car door and gesture of an invitation, reluctantly seating yourself in his sumptuous car. “I failed half of my exams... remember?”

The boy’s laughs can still be heard even through the closed door as he makes his way around the car front, all whilst swinging the keys in his forefinger. His cackling steps an abrupt many levels of decibels higher when the opposing door opens and he plops into the driver seat. “That never stopped you from boasting, did it?” 

Without the flare of your usual clever quips, you purse your lips in silence and subconsciously hug the bouquet closer to your chest to keep his space as unoccupied by your presence. The sudden turn of events has your head spinning and your heart racing enough for the thumps to be felt by your hands. 

How did he find out where you worked? Where was he even taking you and what was he planning to do with you? Why was he acting as if you had not angered him just two nights ago? 

You don’t think you’ll be getting the answer any time soon, particularly the latter question, but when your stomach growls loudly, eliciting a crackle of a laugh from Jin, the awkward tension in your muscles eases ever so slightly. 

“...s-sorry… I skipped breakfast.”

“I know,” he puts the car into neutral at the red light and turns to peer at you with a smug look that says he could still read you like an open book, “because you always skip breakfast. I hid some pastry in the bouquet.” 

“What?” you scrunch your nose but immediately dive your scavenging hands into the flowers; and sure enough, you find your favorite cream-filled bread of his warm in your hands and you can’t stifle the smile that spreads on your lips. “Why would you even do that?”

“Well, in case you suddenly got really jacked and physically refused to come with me, then at least you would have something to eat.”

“No,” you giggle, “I meant why would you hide the bread in the bouquet…”

His eyes brighten like a lightbulb, as if only now recalling the genius plan he had crafted himself, “oh, because then you can sneak a bite without having to leave your desk! It always worked with our backpacks, didn’t it?” 

Your sights fall to the bouquet and you can only reply with a sheepish grin, “right… it sure did.”

The engine purrs to life again when the light turns green and the remainder of the car ride is filled with the smooth drift of his ride and the ceaseless albeit completely welcomed humming from his lips. The old Jin never had enough of an incentive to drive, although his parents always suggested gifting him a brand new car and you had begged him to take the offer out of boredom and a never-ending desire to escape far away from university, but something about this moment in time has you feeling cozy, belonging, and at home. It’s almost like it was meant to be. 

But the silver ring shining around his finger under the angle of the sun is a dreadful reminder that it isn’t. 

So, as a slap to yourself back into reality, you fracture this perfect moment you would have once framed in that hopeless mind of yours, “so… how did you find out where I worked?”

“Ah,” his right hand casually slips onto the back of your headrest. “Still haven’t figured out, rank 292?”

“No, I haven’t, rank 295.” 

“First,” he raises a finger, “I asked some people through the grapevines and eventually your friend Alex gave out.”

Grumbling under your breath, you curse, “damn it, Alex.”

“And second,” he raises another finger before proclaiming firmly, “I’m proving you wrong.” 

“Proving me wrong?” you articulate with a scoff. “You’re going to prove me wrong? Right, keep dreaming.”

“I’m not going to prove you wrong, I am proving you wrong," he insists before shifting the car to neutral and leaning in toward you, gaze brimming with conviction locked with your own wary ones, as if ready to spill a secret sworn by the two of you and hidden from the rest of the universe. 

He's close enough for his minty breath to graze your burning cheeks, to breathe a vigorous life previously unknown by your dull five years. Heart pumping and lungs barely working, daring not to budge for being caught under the sway of his gravitational force, you can hardly catch him when he finally speaks.

"I haven't forgotten, Y/N,” he utters, “I'm a man of my word."

❀ ❀ ❀

Promise one. 

"I'll cook every meal for you for an entire day."

Promise two. 

"I'll bring flowers to you at work."

His unabashed, overly detailed tactic to ask for your hand in marriage still echoes from a time long past. Hopes for those promises were weakened by each passing second but unequivocally unassailed at birth. Eventually, smothered and disheartened, you had been forced to cut ties and confront the reality of broken promises and broken dreams. You had once somehow convinced yourself things would never return to the ways they once were, and, yet, here he is having returned by your side and here you are enraptured by the utter joy in his laughs after all this wavering time. 

It's like a dream come true; and if this indeed all just a nightmarish dream bound to death, you wish you never swore allyship to this alcohol, for now your only wish is for it to succumb you into a deep, long slumber. 

“I toooooooold you I don’t like paaaaasta!” you whine, the drag of your voice manifesting in white puffs in the still chilly spring air. The sudden transition between the warmth of his house to the frozen world outside has you spiraling into a series of trips and stumbles; and as always, your best friend Jin is the only one to hold you up, which is a good thing considering how you would’ve been tumbling into the death trap of a river beneath this bridge. “So whyyyy did you make me pastaaaaaaa? Whyyyyyyy?”

“What? Why’re you blaming me?” he retorts, obviously taking offence. “You always loved pasta! You ate it every single day at uni!” 

“I diiiiid love pasta,” you say through barely parted lips, “but it’s all just… just carbs, carbs, carbssss…” 

“Since when did you care about carbs?” Jin frowns, poking your cheeks that lean against his sturdy arms. “Should I call the police?” 

Your brows furrow and you lift your head to narrow your eyes at him, “what? Why?” 

And as soon as those words slip from your lips and he raises his finger-gun hands, you wish you hadn’t asked in the first place. 

“Because I think you’re an impasta,” his finger guns transform into jazz hands after you stare at him in dumbfounded silence, “...badumtsss….”

A series of empty blinks are exchanged, as if neither of you had just witnessed his most tragic dad joke to date; and so, you swiftly continue with a sigh, “I think… I think I started caring ever since heee mentioned I was getting fat.”

“I can’t believe you just ignored my unprecedented joke…” he grumbles to himself but lets out a little huff when he catches you from tipping over. Wordlessly, he hooks his arm with yours to keep you close to him. “And this ‘he’ you mention, who’s he?” 

“Heee.” 

“Who? Who’s ‘heeee’?” he spouts with pouty lips and a raised chin, flailings his body, and therefore yours, about every which way like a toddler. “Who’s this man I have to beat up, huh? He better square up!”

“I don’t think you could beat him up…” you mumble, eyes heavy but determined enough to reach his own flabbergasted ones. “It’s Jooooon, dummy, Kim-Nam-Joon, the boy I shared my first kiiiiss with…”

“Kim Namjoon?!” his eyes widen. “You think I wouldn’t be able to beat up that nerd?!”

You almost manage to push Jin away the foot of the bridge if it weren’t for his firm lock around you. “Have you seen his muscles?! He might not look like it with his books and all but he worked out all the time!”

“Yeah, well,” his lips sputter, “well, have you seen my muscles?!”

“No—” you freeze when you realize the sturdiness of his arm against your head is existing proof against your word, and maybe it’s because of his obvious flexing at this moment, but you could not believe just how built his arms had grown in the past five years, “—and I don’t want to.” 

“Hah! You just don’t want to admit that I’m right. C’mon, I’ll show you. You feel it, huh? You feel it?” he flexes persistently, twisting and turning to maximize his little showcase. “So? You think I can beat him up now?” 

“Well…” your voice trails off, mind clearly preoccupied with sticking your cheeks to his arm like glue in a somewhat fruitful attempt to hide the flush in your face. “You don’t really need to beat him up…”

“What?” he almost yells. “Why not? He called you fat!”

“Well, he…” your shoulders rise with each confession, “he said one of my dresses looked tight on me…”

“And?”

“...and he wasn’t exactly wrong…”

“So?”

“...so he didn’t actually say anything offhandedly…”

“What? You should’ve told me earlier!” Jin exclaims, arms thrown high into the air and consequently pushing your helpless self onto the hillside grass beside the run of the river. Lips gaping and eyes popping, you watch him in full offense as he mumbles to himself before resuming his stroll down the hill. “And here I am getting worked up over nothing… can’t believe I thought I could play hero for once…”

“Hey, Jin, what do you mean by that?” you call out to him. “Wait! I said wait for me, Jin!”

When your rhetorical questions are answered with silence, you hasten to your feet in order to catch up with those damn wide strides of his. Damn it, how did he make it halfway down the hill already? Each of your exclamations are unsurprisingly disobeyed by the boy who just throws his head back over his shoulder with that cheeky grin of his as he quickened his pace. Following suit, your strides turn into a jog and your jogs turn into a full out sprint until the both of you are full on running the 100 meters dash, one chasing and one fleeing, wind blowing refreshingly into your heated face and into your tangled locks and inflated lungs that relish in the breath of life. 

In the midst of all the chaotic bliss of an epiphany, you find yourself screaming and laughing at the top of your lungs...

“Hey! Jin! I swear I”m gonna kick your ass!”

...and it’s at this moment in time that you realize having forgotten what it means to be a fool who lived and not to live to be a fool. 

At some point in time, after having caught up to the knucklehead and giving a piece of your mind, the two of you settle down along the concrete ledge beside the river after a jittery, welcomed high. The sunset that followed was a pleasant surprise that had you two reminiscing over the countless mornings and evenings you had spent watching the sun rise and set together whilst churning throughout tireless exam nights. Pink, golden streaks now hidden behind a thick coating of midnight blue embellished by magical glitters all throughout, tonight’s stargazing becomes a first for the two of you. 

As much as you hoped you could numb yourself from the inevitable aftereffects of this death wish of a dreamy day, you can’t help but smile, thankful to have been completely sober to engrave this night into memory. 

“So...” Jin’s utter is the first to break the silence. He turns his head to give you a playful look of eyes that beams with wary curiosity, “...you started dating Namjoon after I left?”

“Mm… maybe,” you hum, “why? Got a problem with that?”

“What? Psh, what? Why would I have a problem with that?” he snorts. “The only problem I would have is the fact that you never asked me for permission.”

Your eyes widen, almost threateningly, “are you saying I need permission from a man to date another man? Not to mention a man who abandoned me without warning!” 

“Okay, first of all, it’s not my fault you cancelled your phone plan! I called and called, I tried everything I could even though I was deadbeat tired every day. It’s not my fault I thought you hated my guts! So please just understand that I didn’t abandon you, alright?” he spills in an endless stream akin to a water faucet left on the highest setting, clearly a performance either practiced in private or incited by years of pent up pressure. You can practically see the steam shooting out of his fiery red ears and the accompanying whistle manifesting into words; and by the time his chest is heaving, his lungs are panting and very dramatically so, and his eyes flicker nervously between you and the passing water, you can’t help but snicker. Unsurprisingly, your lack of empathy elicits an unamused look on his face. “Hey, hey, what’re you laughing at, huh?” 

“Me? Oh, nothing,” your hands move into your laps and you bat your eyes innocently, “it’s just that I can’t believe you’re blaming me, a helpless, poor girl with absolutely no connections, for cancelling her phone plan as a last resort to make ends meet.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he warns with an accusatory finger, “don’t you dare think I’ll fall for that eye blinking and whatever cute act you’re playing up again!” 

“Why?” you pout, almost cringing at your own antics. “Am I not cute?”

“No, you’re hurting my eyes. Plus, if anyone’s cute here,” he declares adamantly before puffing his cheeks and poking one with his forefinger, “it’s me.”

The both of you stare at the other for a stagnant few seconds, one completely dedicated to his performance and the other utterly flabbergasted by what plays out before her. 

The only word you manage to crank out is a, “uh…”

“What do you think?” he raises another finger to poke his other cheek. “I practiced just for you.” 

“Um… you’re 27 now, Jin.”

“So?” he tilts his head in the other direction. “Still 22 and young at heart.”

“Yeah? Then I’m still 22 and still equally disgusted by aegyo—” just as he parts his lips to provide another rebuttal, you quickly add in “—by your aegyo.” 

And just like that, the man drops his boyish character just as quickly as he had stepped into it. He mumbles, dropping his hands and shooting an equivocate look at you, “okay, tough crowd. Sorry, ma’am.”

It shouldn’t have been that hilarious nor should your response been so delayed, but it only takes a split second of his surrender for a thunderous cackle to slip from your lips. Throwing your head back and peering at the dangling stars above, you allow yourself a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath of the incoming wind. The fresh petrichor of spring and the earthiness of mowed grass whisks themselves into the cold, clean breeze from the vast body of water. Thin locks of hair grazes across your cheeks, swaying in the wind as does your spirit. Years are lifted from your shoulders and all that is left is the heaviness that remains in your chest; nevertheless, you have never felt so free from the past. 

“Also,” he adds nonchalantly, cocking his head to look at you, “I wasn’t speaking from the position of a man. I was speaking as a best friend. As your best friend.” 

And just like that, sitting side by side and sharing a cool breeze, it’s almost as if all these moments of remorse, spilled tears, and unreleased frustration were made to build the climax to this grand finale: the night you can finally speak your truth. 

“It’s funny how things never change, huh?” you say when your eyes flutter open and you find Jin looking over with a fondness identical to the one you’ve spotted years before. “We can split for five years, thinking one hates the other’s guts, and reunite again as best friends… as if nothing had ever happened.”

Jin chuckles, hands grabbing to the ledge and head lolling back to join you but his eyes remain fixated on you, “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Are we vampires and we just don’t know it?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure either… not sure about the good thing and not the vampire thing, that is,” your laugh settles into silence when you spot the reflected light inflicted by the ring around his finger, sitting on the ledge just an inch away from yours. Close enough to touch but far enough to confirm an unequivocal truth. Sighing, you turn your head to meet his intent gaze with a bittersweet upturn to your lips, “normally, I really despise the idea of change; but lately, when I think about how things might never change between us, how we’ll always banter as a pair of stupid best friends, I start wanting it more than ever.”

Is this the moment? Is it all really happening right now? Judging by the course of your blithe actions, if change is what you’re looking for, then change is what will surely ensue after tonight. Whether for the good or for the worse, you’ll take a reluctant guess of the latter. 

The man scrunches his brows before playing it off with a nervous laugh, “what do you mean things haven’t changed? You dated Namjoon, probably got it on a few times here or there—”

“—what—”

“—please don’t confirm,” he butts in with a raised hand, “and I have, too. Sure things have changed!”

“Ooh?” you raise a brow, genuinely shocked. “You finally got some experience under your belt? I’m impressed, Mr. Kim.”

“Hey,” he scolds, “what do you mean by ‘impressed?’” 

“Well, I should’ve known… figuring you’re about to be a married man and all…” you mumble, forcing a smile despite the sudden dip in your mood. Turning your head to stare off into the opposite end of the river where the black silhouette of skyscrapers lie, you curse yourself mentally. You really thought you could get away with the inevitable truth for the entire day? “You know, I can’t believe I almost forgot that you’re getting married in less than a week. Almost like how I couldn’t believe you almost forgot our promises.”

“I told you Kim Seokjin is a man of his words.”

“You sure about that? Promise one: cook for me for an entire day. Check. Promise two: gift me flowers at work. Check,” you turn around once again to look him firmly in the eyes and it’s almost as if the both of you know what’s about to come next. “What about the three other promises, Kim Seokjin?” 

“Y/N…” his voice trails off but his gaze never leaves yours, almost as if too afraid to be misconstrued as another betrayal. 

Quick-mindedly, you chime, “stop looking at me so seriously! I’m just joking! Promise three: you won’t break my heart. How could you after a wonderful day like this? Promise four: you won’t forget our promises. Clearly, you remember. And promise five: you’ll keep all your promises. Check.”

“Y/N,” he stifles every wince but you can tell by the way his feet have stopped kicking into the void. “I don’t think I’ve kept all those promises.” 

“Well,” you shrug, pressing your lips into a line tightly, “I only see checks in my book, Jin. You’re good to go—”

“—no, Y/N, you need to listen to me,” he says sternly; and when your mouth falls agape and your head slightly nods, his wary eyes searching for a steady sign in the windows to your soul, he continues calmly, “my marriage is actually an arranged marriage.”

“Your—” you blink blankly, jaw almost falling to the floor “—your, you, what?”

An arranged marriage. 

All this time, all this pain, all this heartbreak of wanting to do something about your feelings but remaining hopeless because of an unrequited love… turns out to be an active, fully conscious decision? Not a falling out of love, not a helpless affection for another woman, but a matchmaking handcrafted without the heavens?

“My,” he has to stop himself just as his breath hitches, “my father... arranged it. ” 

“What? Why? Is it because he prefers you with a well off family?” 

“What? No,” he shakes his head with a slight upcurve to his lips that you’ve never quite seen before. Watching him hook a hand to the nape of his neck, clearly avoiding your eyes, you have an inkling of something much worse than the presented news. “You know my father would never do that… it has nothing to do with money...”  

“But you left this town for money, didn’t you? For a better job, a better pay, a better life, and for the sake of your dignity as a dutiful son, are you telling me none of those were related to money?” 

His eye twitches by your name-calling, clearly pained once again despite knowing very well of your precedent dislike toward his silver spoon background and his nonnegotiable obedience. Each second of silence culminates a tension even more formidable than the last. Guilt intoxicates your boiling blood enough for you to bite your tongue and hold yourself back; because after accusing him of holding onto his dignity, you, yourself, could not forfeit that of your own either. 

Worse yet, you’re a complete hypocrite. 

“Why can’t you just tell him to call it off?” 

You never knew silence could be so deafening.

“So… so do you...” you begin hesitantly. Usually, with your eyes locked with his, a thousand words would have been exchanged with each passing second; but now, with gazes that wade through the tides of the unknown, for the first time ever, you don’t recognize the mystery before you. “Do you... love her?” 

His lips part slowly, but no time in the world would be enough for him to find the right words. To you, his silence is as clear as any possible answer. Something sinks in you, perhaps after acknowledging the implications behind his choice to leave your question unanswered, but your blood boils from the audacity of those apologetic eyes that, even now, never stray from yours… as if this minute of sincerity would be enough to mend the inevitable decade of scars. 

You begin slowly, failing to hide the shakiness of your deep breaths, “...then what about the baby?”

“What baby...?” his face contorts with a frown until, out of the blue, something flickers across his numerous expressions: confusion, remembrance, contemplation. His hesitation that ensues might have been fleeting but its infliction upon your shattered trust will surely remain. “Oh, that… that was just a rumor my aunt spread because of the sudden marriage.” 

“And,” you force yourself to breathe, scattering for something, anything to throw at him, “and you don’t think you could’ve told me sooner?”

The man scrunches his brows, “and that would’ve helped, how?” 

“‘How?’” you repeat, as if it was the dumbest question you had ever heard. Mirroring his expression, your eyes avert between him and the river as scoffs of utter disbelief escape you. “‘How?’ What do you mean ‘how?’”

“I mean exactly that!” his voice suddenly escalates to a level of frustration you’ve never quite heard from him before. “How would it have changed anything? Why would you need to know earlier?”

Gawking, you exasperate desperately, “you know why!” 

“No, I might be your best friend but don’t expect me to just read your mind!”

“It’s cause...” you swing your leg over the ledge to face the sidewalk with your back on Jin as soon as you could feel an incoming constriction at the back of your throat, a notorious sign shared just between the two of you that waterworks were about to appear. Breathing slowly and doing just about everything to keep your voice from shaking, and fruitlessly so, you mumble before standing to your feet, “...you know what? I don’t even know anymore. I’m sorry. Nevermind.”

Why did you ever think you would have a chance? 

Is this it? Is this really it? The end? 

The questions come crashing into you as you make your retreat, head hanging low and palms drying the inconvenient tears that mark your face. After all the confidence you had built up, after finally thinking—actually, believing—you could get over him tonight, how humiliating is it that you’re now running away from a reality that would eventually and inevitably engulf you? 

The worst part of it is, Jin, like the best friend and good man that he is, persists to chase after you. You don’t have to hear the quickened footsteps of his usual wide, well-paced strides to know he’s coming. You don’t have to hear the calls he makes on the top of his lungs for you to know he’s on his way. 

As someone who so helplessly fell in love with their best friend, you just know he would be there through thick and thin—whether you like it or not. 

“Y/N!” Jin hollers; and when he finally catches up to you, having to sprint and consequently inciting for you to surrender with an abrupt stop to your path, every bit of air is knocked from your lungs. Arms wrapping over your waist and enveloping you into a tight hug, you can feel his heart pounding against your back. 

To most, it should have been the perfect method to comfort a crying friend; so, damn it, why does it only make you cry harder? 

“What?” your voice cracks as you just barely manage to smear the following tears within the wrap of his bear hug. “Damn it, Jin, why can’t you leave me alone for once?”

Head resting on yours, his voice is muffled by your hair as he murmurs, “I can’t just leave my best friend crying like that. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry.” 

He embraces you. He embraces you not only physically through the silence but also through the emotional rollercoaster that comes with it. He, Kim Seokjin, your best friend, holds you through the ups and downs and the rights and the wrongs. He even holds you now, comforting you in the hurricane that you brewed without ever knowing and never caring that he had, in fact, not committed any wrongdoing. If anything, you must be in the wrong. 

And when you put it that way, how could you blame yourself for falling in love with him?

“Jin… I’m sorry, I tried everything to stop myself but,” your voice shakes but your courage prospers, “but I just, I just really, really love you.” 

A second passes. 

Now, two. 

Then, three. 

Something strikes against your chest when the surreality of the situation settles into reality. His silence could mean many things, but the tightening of his embrace could only mean one. Blood flushes your cheeks as you lament over his sensation of your fervent heartbeats. Secrets thrown out into the spring air, your heated cheeks are equally exposed to the passing, chilly zephyr. 

He knows you love him. At this moment, he can physically feel the proof of your love and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

“Sorry,” you manage to blurt under your breath, “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget I said—”

—the remaining words dissipate into thin air when he places his hands firmly on your shoulder and whirls you around. Face just inches away from his, you barely catch wind of his declaration before the unthinkable occurs…

“Too late. I don’t want to.”

...and his lips meet yours. 

It’s everything you have ever imagined. Years of admiring those plush lips, wondering what it would be like to feel the warmth of those wonders pressed against yours, are finally coming to fruition… except they don’t. His hands fall from your shoulders to the small of your back, but your hands don’t intertwine behind the back of his neck like you imagined. Instead, they hover in midair, hesitant to embrace him in your arms. Why? With your eyes and his fluttered closed and an audible deep sigh that signals a desire finally satisfied from the both of you, reality still manages to twist a dream-come-true. 

Does he actually love you or does he only pity you?

Finally, and ever so suddenly, your hands firmly push against his chest to plant an arm’s distance from you and him.

“Sorry…” you pant, avoiding those intense eyes. “We… we can’t do this.” 

“What?” Jin raises a brow, taking a step forward as you take one back. “Why not?”

Wordlessly, you point at his ring finger.

“Oh,” he chuckles nervously, hand scratching the back of his neck. You can only watch his every move, your stare gradually becoming a glare. Rosy hues coloring his cheeks, he speaks sheepishly, “I forgot we’re in public.”

His nonchalance irks you to your core. There isn’t any other way to put it. Blithe and dense have always been your favorite traits of his, but now that he’s here? Planting buds he could never sustain and sending mixed signals despite knowing of your feelings in an unfitting circumstance were never things you knew Jin for.  

“I-I don’t get it, Jin,” you shake your head. “I don’t think we should see each other any more. In any context. Not even after the wedding.” 

With his hands buried into his pockets and shoulders high enough to hide his reddened ears, he glances up at you, alert. “What? Why? What don’t you get?”

“It’s ‘cause... I just don’t get… this. I don’t get us,” you articulate, struggling to find the right words. “Why are you so… nonchalant about this? Why are you kissing me? Is it out of pity? Is it because I said I liked you—”

“—Y/N,” he says lowly like the drop of his previously cheerful mien, “you know I would never do something like that.” 

“Then why?! Why are you doing this to me? Do you love her or not?” you pause for a second to stifle the crack in your voice but, alas, all is in vain. “...and do you even… love me?”

He frowns, the tension in his body evident by the knitting of his brows as he struggles, “I… Y/N...”

“So you can’t admit that you love her and you can’t even lie to say you love me. So why the hell are you throwing away an entire marriage just to kiss me?” your scoff comes out more so like a plea. “You’re confusing me, Jin—”

“—that’s,” he abruptly pauses to stop himself from exploding, taking a deep breath before continuing, “that’s exactly why I can’t say it, Y/N! I don’t want to confuse you. I don’t want to disappoint my father. I-I don’t want to complicate matters more!”

“Then why the hell did you kiss me?!”

“I don’t know, okay?!” he throws his hands in the air. “I don’t know! It was a spur of the moment! I couldn’t stop myself from chasing after you and when I hugged you—I-I just wanted to, alright? I’m sorry.”

He’s... sorry. 

Sorry for kissing you, sorry for acting as if your feelings had been reciprocated, sorry for breaking all the promises he made and pretending like he was going to patch things up again tonight. Speaking your mind and hearing his words are all that you need to finally understand what you need to do. Your heart drops but you hold your head high because your final verdict is the right thing to do. Maybe this time you’ll finally be able to cease these useless feelings. What's the point in pursuing a hopeless love? 

The only one you would be hurting is yourself. 

This epiphany, in itself, is enough to drape an ephemeral clarity over your frenzic self; and just like a bandaid over a scar, you’re able to function, if only just temporarily.

“Hey, Jin?” you call out softly to the boy kicking at nothing on the bare sidewalk. It’s hard not to melt under the delicate glance he throws over his shoulder. “I’m not… mad. Well, I kind of am. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m sorry for everything that I said about your upbringing. I know how close you are to your family. I’m sure you’ve been under a lot of pressure…”

“No, Y/N,” he shakes his head, turning his body to face you with a low hanging head, “it’s my fault. Even considering all that, I still shouldn’t have done that or any of this. I… I’m sorry for confusing you.”

Forcing a composed smile, you persevere, “do you have your fiance’s number?”

Head lifting with a frown, he answers, “yeah, what kind of a fiance would I be if I didn’t? Why though?”

“Right,” you say to yourself under your breath, hearing his ‘fiance’ echo relentlessly in your head. “I just need it, okay? To… to sort out everything...”

And just when you wonder how insensitive could this boy get...

“What?” he chuckles. “Are you going to fight for me?”

...it gets worse.

Rolling your eyes, you give him a hard, well-deserved slap against the chest before snickering at his loud wince and declaring your one last confession of the night. 

“No, I could fight for us, but I won’t singlehandedly fight for you,” you then declare with a bitter smile, “I will, however, tell her how jealous I am.”

And that's your most irrefutable confession, one that has Jin stupefied for the future midnights to come.

❀ ❀ ❀

Morning arrives much sooner than you had anticipated. White puffs mark the air whilst you wrap yet another layer of scarf around your neck. It seems as though the breeze from a night ago had intentionally danced around town, lingering and spectating on the resolution of your five year long love conundrum. Ironically enough, the two of you reunite at the very spot where everything had first started… except this time, everything will finally end.

The pain he had marked in you inflicted by the words he could not bring himself to say still stains your every waking second.

“You have to do this. You can do this,” you incessantly chant to yourself, pacing back and forth beside the most prominent cherry blossom tree in town. “You have to do this. You can do this—”

“—Y/N, is that you?”

What you presume to be Youngji’s voice perks your ears. Looking up, you spot her holding a phone in her hands as she flickers between you and her screen. A quizzical quirk of the brow plasters across your face as you wave at her and she jogs over to you as quickly as she could in that pink, wool poncho and those tan, fluffy boots. “Hey, Youngji, right?” 

“Yeah,” she says in between each pant of breath, “that’s me.” 

Her hands immediately find refuge on her knees whilst she bends over to catch her breath. Typically, you’re the very self-aware type, but there isn’t anything you could do to stop yourself from staring. The girl strikes you as… flamboyant. With her dark red pigtails, bright smile, and dainty attire, she’s everything you’ve always imagined a female version of Jin would be like. It’s hard not to wonder… maybe an arranged marriage really can be a match made in heaven, but you force yourself out of that rabbit hole before having another breakdown in front of an innocent stranger. 

The tang of jealousy, however, refuses to budge. 

“Sorry, for,” she pants, holding her hand up to show you her phone screen, “calling out to you like that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you squint at the sight of the screen displaying a candid photo of you, taken on this very street on that very day, as you stuffed one of his breads in your mouth. Drawn on your face is a mustache and a unibrow. “Did Jin do—”

“—Jin gave me a terrible reference photo.” 

Scoffing, you cross your arms, “damn it, Jin.”

Youngji crackles into a firework of uncontrollable laughter, rendering you stupefied. After a literal minute passes by, she finally manages to speak in between the bursts of giggles that follow, “you two—” giggle “—really are—” giggle “—close, huh?” And as a grand finale, she slaps her stomach with a loud sigh of relief that her laughs have come to an end. When she notices you staring at her bewilderedly, a light bulb flashes through her as she gasps and feigns a whimper, “o-oh! Ow! M-my baby!”

“You know you don’t have to pretend, right?” you can only let out a laugh of disbelief because you still can’t take in the mirror image your best friend. “Jin already told me about the fake pregnancy.” 

“Oh, in that case,” she smiles widely before giving her stomach one more big, satisfying slap, “see, you guys really are so close!” 

“I… I guess. I’m not sure if taking me out for one day after five years of radio silence really counts as close, though,” you then quickly add in with raised hands, “he only did so out of obligation, though! I swear it was nothing more!”

“Hmmm?” she hums, leaning in a curious ear with a cheshire-like smile. “Is it because of those promises he made?”

“...yeah, wait, he told you about those?” 

Of course he did, idiot, they’re engaged. 

“Well, something like that,” she shrugs, “so how much did he tell you?”

“About?” 

“About the wedding, silly!” 

“Uh, nothing much really. The pregnancy was a false rumor, the marriage was arranged by his father…”

“Father?” she inquires, watching you closely with those big, round eyeballs of hers. 

“Yes?” you hesitantly nod. “Father?” 

“Ah,” she nods, as if she finally catches drift of something, “I see.” 

“Oh yeah,” you add, “I also found out it’s on my birthday.”

“What?!” her eyes grow wider, if they even possibly can. “Jin never told me that! What the heck, man? A wedding? On his best friend’s birthday?!” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know right?” you nod passively before coming to an abrupt stop. “Wait, what? Why does it matter to you?”

“Of course it matters to me! You’re Jin’s best friend, aren’t you? You have no idea how much he talks about you back home. I know you so well that sometimes I feel like you might be my best friend,” she chimes before reaching out to cup your hands in hers. “Let’s celebrate properly with Jin after the wedding, okay?” 

“Um, sure…”

But you don’t exactly plan on unnecessarily sticking around his life for any longer than the wedding… except, seeing how close she must be with Jin in addition to her loose-lip impression, you decide not to tell her that. 

“So,” she drops her hands to the side, “what did you need to tell me?” 

Why did you call her to meet you here again? After witnessing her flamboyant entrance, it’s hard for you to keep yourself from derailing. 

“Oh, um,” you scratch the back of your head awkwardly, “I just wanted to meet my best friend’s fiance, that’s all.”

“Ahhh, I see.”

The woman pauses, nodding at you intently almost as if waiting for the real intentions to be revealed. Damn it, either you’re a literal open book or she reincarnated from the same soul as Jin’s. 

“So…” you purse your lips. “Are you okay with it? The arranged marriage, I mean?” 

“Well,” she shrugs, finally dropping the smile from her lips. “At first I hated the thought of it. I felt like I didn’t really have a choice, but… when I met Jin—” a smile is hinted in the corner of her lips and in the sparkle of her eyes “—I thought ‘I’m pretty lucky girl, aren’t I?’ I think the world must have finally taken pity on me.”

A soft, stifled laugh slips from you as your eyes fall to the ground and a bittersweet smile accompanies your lips, “yeah, you’re pretty lucky.” 

“Don’t get me wrong though,” your eyes immediately shoot up to find her raising defensive hands, “it wasn’t some sort of a love at first sight. He’s handsome, sure, but—”

“—a marriage is a lifelong commitment—”

“—exactly,” she sighs, “I didn’t really know him, but when I was forced to spend time with him… I thought if I had to get married, then he would be the best option. He’s not a bad guy.” 

“No,” you smile in your reverie, shaking your head, “he's not a bad guy at all; and when you really get to know him, his stupid dorky self, I think it’s impossible not to fall for him.” 

“Yeah?” 

“He’s mean when he jokes around but he’s actually very kind, he’s sensitive when you poke him where it hurts but he hides it deceptively well, he’ll apologize for being wrong when the both of you clearly know you’re in the wrong, he’ll cook and wear the hottest pink clothes he can find because ‘to hell with societal norms,’ he’ll tell you the dumbest dad jokes but I promise you’ll get used to them eventually, ” you let out a reminiscent laugh that comes out more like a sigh, “and, sometimes, very rarely, he’ll hurt you unintentionally, of course, but he’ll always go out of his way to make it up because that’s just… that’s Jin. That’s my best friend.” 

A breeze passes by to perfectly mark the end of your cadence. Branches rustle above you and freshly budded cherry blossom petals flutter their way toward the grass underneath the two of you only to be risen once again by a following zephyr. Having been there throughout his and your lives, it’s almost as if the long-standing tree is agreeing to attest to your words. 

“Wow,” Youngji finally says after witnessing your truthful albeit embarrassing spoken love letter, “I… I wouldn’t doubt any of it… but why are you telling me? Shouldn’t you be telling Jin?” 

“I’m telling you, because,” you emphasize, “because I'm jealous of your position but I can't do anything about it so I want you to take good care of Jin. I just… I need to know he’ll be in good hands. I want him to be loved like the way that he loves. You’ll do that, won’t you?”

Youngji just nods. It’s the most somber response you’ve ever seen from her. Almost like the joining of hands in marriage has finally become reality. 

“Do you…” you struggle to squeeze out of the knot in your throat, “do you love him…?” 

“Y/N—” she begins but suddenly lets go of whatever she must have had planned “—yes, yes I do.” 

“And… you’ll take care of him?” 

Youngji bobs her head lightly, “yes, I will.”

“Promise?” 

“...promise.”

“Okay, then I’m entrusting him to you, and,” you smile, leaning forward to shake her hands before heaving one last sigh, “and this time, please keep the promise.” 

❀ ❀ ❀

A curse sinks into the thickness of the sapphire dusk that quickly descends upon the hushed city. Keys tinkle to decorate the silence of tonight’s resting wind, a silence that would have been accompanied by an equally passive woman and an oblivious man whose hands persist to fumble to his guest’s dismay. 

Standing before a small willow, vintage-looking store tucked away in the corner of downtown, an inaudible breath ascends a cloud of white that momentarily shrouds the grand interior peeking from spotless windows that line the exterior. Golden warm studio lights illuminate the gorgeously exquisite ivory gowns from the trailing trains up to its waterfalls of dainty veils. Velvet suits and satin neckties accompany each headless mannequin, welcoming each passerby to imagine themselves in their wildest fairytales… your hand in his and his in yours as a fleeting moment becomes a sealed promise of a lifelong loyalty. 

Breath completely taken away, you, yourself, almost fall prey to your own far-fetched dreams. 

“I thought I said we shouldn’t meet up anymore,” your forced mutters drag you from your short-lived reveries, “why did you bring me here?”

“You said we shouldn’t meet up anymore, yet here you are,” Jin chirps before cheering to himself under his breath once the key finally clicks into place, “yes! Old man must have purposely given me these rusty old keys.”

Crossing your arms, you retort, “I came because you said your close friend from home would be here, too.”

Turning around to face you with his back to the door and a hand on the golden knob, he raises a quizzical brow, “and… are you not my close friend from home?” 

“I thought you meant the other—”

“—this is my home, Y/N,” he says firmly, looking straight at you, “and I want my best friend to see me in my wedding suit before anyone else.” 

“But why me…?”

“Because I only care about your opinion.”

He answered without hesitation, but in your head you figure he must have forgotten about Youngji, the true spotlight of the show.

Gritting your teeth, a staredown begins between the two of you; but the longer you face those unequivocal looks of determination in his eyes, the hotter your cheeks become in the middle of a contrastingly chilly night.  

“Alright, fine.” 

“Thanks,” he gives you a small, lopsided smile before pushing the door open with his back and ushering you in with a slight bow, “ladies first.”

Your eyes roll but not for very long when you step foot into the store and your mouth falls agape. The ceiling is much higher than you had perceived from outside, the sides are lined with grand, wooden staircases that lead to a second floor where hundreds upon hundreds of white dresses and black suits find purchase along the hangers, and the click of your heels against the marble tiles of the entrance floor echo into the extravagant expanse. 

The wooden insulation of the store proves infallible when the door closes behind Jin and the shrewd air leaves you to a much more bearable surrounding. Standing affixed to the entrance, you watch as Jin strides toward the carpeted floor where a taupe curtain hanging from the ceiling drapes over a raised platform sits across its partner platform in the opposite of the room. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so enraptured by something aside from me,” Jin chuckles as he begins stripping the suit off of a black, velvety mannequin before pointing at the mannequin standing beside the opposite platform, “oh, why don’t you try on some dresses while I’m at it?” 

“What?” you scoff, finally taking a step onto the carpet. “First off, I never stared at you like that before. Second, why the hell would I do that? It’s your wedding, not mine.” 

“I asked the store owner for permission and picked a dress for you to try on,” he continues, finally stopping in the midst of unbuttoning his white, collared shirt when he looks up to find the fear in your eyes. “Hey, haven’t you always wanted to try one of these?”

“Yeah,” you laugh in disbelief because he actually listened to your past rambles, “but never under these circumstances.”

“C’mon, you never know if you’ll ever have a chance like this again,” he gestures once more when he notices the start of your contemplation, “c’mon, go on!”

You really don’t want to. It’s that nagging feeling of something going completely wrong tonight if you were to succumb and let yourself go. After all, your worst fear is yourself. It doesn’t feel right and you begin to wonder if it’s alright for you to hold onto this moment you’ve always dreamed about: dolling up and swearing your vows side by side with Jin. 

If you were to live out your fairytale, just for tonight, would you finally be able to sleep dreamlessly at night? 

“...fine,” you groan and storm across the room, tossing your purse into the ruby sofas and stepping onto the platform. Turning around to face a gleeful Jin, you’re about to scowl at him until your eyes flicker between the cheeky grin on that youthful face and those sculpted abdomen of his elevated by the lighting above. Cheeks flushing red, you gulp at the unseen sight before clutching the curtain in your hands and swinging it closed with a mumble, “and at least have some decency and use the curtains, God damn it…”

The freezing touch of your hands doesn't hold a candle to the heat of your face. Trying to calm your racing heart, you curse to yourself at the way he merely cackles at you and, even worse, the way your heart intensifies in response. 

“Yes, ma’am!” 

“...shut up,” you say more to yourself and your deafening heart.

The gown standing before you, however, is no help to your case either, for when you glance over the dress, the long train that could awe an entire room, the complimenting silhouette that doesn’t scream too over-the-top but enough to fulfill the little girl within you, and the classic lace sleeves that you’ve gushed over whilst skimming through magazines, you realize Jin had always been attentive even when he was stuffing his face with bread or even when he was being petty over an argument and you tried to rectify with incessant small talk. 

It’s at this moment that you acknowledge the rabbit hole you had just willingly fallen into and the impossibility of its towering escape.

“So,” Jin calls out to you as the sound of rustling clothes fill the silent air, “what do you want for your birthday tomorrow?”

“My birthday? Oh, right,” you slam palm to your forehead, having dwelled over the marriage and consequently forgetting your own birthday. “Uh, nothing really. I haven’t really thought about it this year.” 

“Really? You? Y/N? Not planning her own birthday?” he gasps. “Who are you and what did you do to Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up. With age comes other problems to deal with...”

...problems like you.

“C’mon,” he chuckles. “You have to have something. You can’t tell me you’ve gotten every single thing checked off of that old ‘birthday gift ideas’ list you gave me.”

“I mean… I wouldn’t say I’m very far from it and it’s not like you were actually going to give me everything I asked for. Say, what did I even have on that list?” your eyes wander to the towering curtains that envelop you as your hands reach behind to the buttons on your back. “A bowl of your tofu soup, some pocket money, a matching sweater, a pair of earrings, a necklace, and a… ring.” The word slips from your lips and it floats in the stagnant air before you can even do anything about it. His silence rings in your ears, so you quickly add in, “but I don’t want materialistic stuff like that anymore.” 

“...oh, really?” 

“Nope,” you heave a heavy sigh and pat the poofy material of the skirt down, “I think I’ve come to realize that… I just want to be loved. I don’t need a dress or a necklace or a ring…  you wouldn’t understand, but I don’t just want to hear those words. I want to feel them. I want to be loved.” 

But only by him.

A lingering silence drifts long enough for you to start panicking until, finally, he answers, “no, I understand.” 

“...well,” you quickly chirp as you fumble with the lacey material of your dress, “enough about me, what do you want for your big day, hm?”

“Why would I need a present from you?” he remarks. You can hear him finishing his final touches and you can barely stop your heart from leaping out of your chest. “You’ve given me enough already.”

“You mean I’ve given you enough earfuls and tears,” you retort, clutching onto the curtains as you shut your eyes to muster every courage within you. “Isn’t there anything I can give you? Anything you want?”

Counting down to yourself, the curtains and drawn open in one, swift swing; and when your eyelids flutter open, you find him standing on the platform across from you, dressed in a classic black and white suit with the curtains clutched in his hands like a mirror image of you. He glances over you from head to toe, as you do to him, until the both of you settle in each other’s gazes for what seems like an eternity, willingly lost and ever-so-enraptured.

You almost forget this isn’t actually your wedding.

“This,” he answers with a soft smile, “this is enough.”  

“...stop it.”

JIn frowns, “stop what?”

“Stop… looking at me like that,” you articulate, hands covering your bashful grin. “It’s making me feel self-conscious.” 

“Hey, it’s not my fault I have such a good eye at picking clothes for you!” he says whilst pointing an accusatory finger. “I guess 22 year old Jin had a pretty good sense of fashion after all.” 

“You picked this five years ago…?” 

The man shrugs but his high chin says otherwise regarding his humility, “I told you Kim Seokjin is a prepared man of his word.” Eyes peering across to wink at you, he continues a bit more seriously, “I might not be able to fulfill all of our promises, but this is the closest I can to it.” 

“Jin… you’re…” you laugh in disbelief, bashfully avoiding his intent gaze, “...you’re so incredibly stupid that I can feel it from all the way here.” 

“Oh, yeah?” he grins mischievously and takes a step toward you and off the platform. “How about now?”

“Stop it, don’t spread your stupidity to me.”

He spreads his arms out wide whilst taking another few steps forward, “why not? Aren’t we supposed to be together through thick and thin?”

“No, not really,” you adamantly shake your head amidst a hysterical fit of giggles, “don’t come any closer.” 

“Oh, no,” he feigns worry. Another footstep. “I can’t stop myself.” He approaches even closer. “The stupidity is spreading!” 

With him just a footstep away, you cower behind the shield of your hands, “stop it, stop looking at me like that—”

—and just as you squeal, his arms wrap around you to pull you into a tight embrace.

Like two lost puzzle pieces, his hands fit perfectly in the small of your back and his chin rests comfortably in the crook of your neck. His hair grazes against your burning cheeks. His scent envelops you into a rosy haze. He could probably feel the beat of your chest against his, but you wouldn’t know when you’re preoccupied by the thuds of his own. You had never been aware of the lonesome emptiness you’ve felt all these years until now, under the warmth of his touch that completes your other half. 

You almost forget to breathe until he takes a deep breath and lets out a slow, dreary sigh. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Under any other circumstances, you would have smacked him for lying. Perhaps it’s the stir of the starry skies or the impending occasion or even the look he made on his way to you with a gaze that oozed with absolute adoration, but something tells you he’s being his genuine self tonight… and that’s what you fear the most. 

“You shouldn’t be saying that, Jin,” you say, stroking his head buried in your shoulder, “and you shouldn’t be looking at any women but Youngji with those eyes.” 

Whether he’s quietly reflecting or stubbornly disagreeing, Jin remains silent. His breath entangles with yours, syncing with the wavelengths that you two have been running for an ongoing seven years and, perhaps, beyond. 

He frustrates you to your wits’ end. There’s nothing he hasn’t made you question. At times, when you’re tossing and turning in bed and hoping for a way out of that cavern of a mind, you wish time could skip to a year in which the voices no longer haunt you at night; and yet, when you’re here buried in his arms, you would do anything to freeze and relish this fragment in time. 

It isn’t right. You two aren’t right and you know it isn’t right… but how do you deny yourself of the cure to those deep scars when he, himself, wishes to be downed? 

It takes everything in you to finally drop your hands from his locks to his shoulder. Just as you’re about to deny the tempting elixir, Jin lifts his head along with his gaze that now meets yours, “Y/N, I have something I need to tell you.”

“...y-yeah?” 

The windows to his soul twinkle underneath the dim chandeliers above. Those starry dark brown eyes simply take your breath away.

“My dad,” his voice quivers like the water that wells in his eyes; and when you know he’s about to bawl, you pat his head ever-so-endearingly. Gulping, he finds the courage to continue, “he’s sick.” 

“Oh... oh, Jin,” you murmur, quickly wiping the few tears that drop onto his flush cheeks before bringing him into another tight embrace. “I’m sorry.” 

“I only moved—” and that’s what cracks his buoyant front into a full on bawl  “—I only moved to take care of him!”

“I understand.” 

He shakes his head, “I didn’t want to abandon you!” 

“No, Jin, I know,” your voice is buried underneath his whimpers, “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” 

“I didn’t know things would turn out like this!” he cries, holding you even closer. “I didn’t know!” 

“It’s okay, Jin. Really, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” 

“No, it won’t be okay,” his voice hitches in the midst of his hiccups, “my father is dying and now I’m walking down the aisle with a woman I don’t even love!” 

Your strokes come to a temporary stop because how could fate be so twisted? Who is it to decide whose time shall begin and whose time is up? You have to hold your breath along with the waterworks that sour your eyes. You can’t cry now. He needs your stability.

He needs you. 

“Did you…” you take a shaky breath, leaning back to watch him cover the messy state of his face, “did you tell your dad?”

“I-I couldn’t,” he stutters, voice muffled by his voice, “you know how long he’s been waiting for this.”

I know,” you ponder for a second before hesitating to continue, “...why didn’t you consider me?” 

“I—” his hiccup interrupts him as he roughly smears his tear-stained cheeks with his palms “—I thought you hated me. I didn’t think you would agree. I thought our promises were just a joke. But when you confessed that night, when you said you would fight for us—” his voice cracks again as he laughs at himself, eyes to the ground “—I thought damn, fuck, how did I mess up so hard? I should have fought for us. I’m so stupid—”

“—no you’re not—”

“—so fucking stupid!” 

His self-reprimanding curse echoes in the room. Each of his demeaning scorns inciting a fiery justice in you. 

“No,” you state, “you’re not stupid.” 

Without the dignity to face you, his hands clenched into fist and he continues with bangs shrouding his sorrowful eyes, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I hurt you—”

“—no, Jin, you did not—”

“—I messed us up—”

“—no, Jin, look at me, hey, look at me,” you place a finger under his chin to lift his spirits until those bloodshot eyes of his find refuge in yours. Smiling, you speak, “see? I’m okay. So what are you apologizing for?”  

“Aren’t you… mad?” 

“Mad? No, silly,” you laugh, wiping another tear. “Sad? Maybe.”

“See—”

“—sad because I wasn’t there by your side when you needed me… and maybe a bit sad that I won’t be the one holding you like this tomorrow,” you apologize with a soft smile over the latter jab that incites a wince from the boy. “Why didn’t you tell me about your father?” 

“I didn’t think it was that serious,” he hiccups, “and when I found out, I tried to call you but it didn’t go through.”

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, “I’m sorry.” 

“No,” he takes a deep breath to calm his high, “it’s not your fault.”

“And it’s not yours either,” you affirm, breaking out into a laugh when you take another look at his reddened eyes and dampened cheeks. “Look at you! Why are you looking like a mess on our wedding day, huh?! At least let us be ignorantly happy for one day!” 

“What…?” he frowns whilst hastily smearing every last evidence of his breakdown on his face. The result is an equally red, irritated skin across his cheeks. “What’re you talking about? Kim Seokjin never looks like a mess… hey, what’re you laughing at?!” 

“Look at your tie, idiot! What kind of a rich son are you if you can’t even tie it correctly? Come over here,” you say just as you grab the end of his necktie to pull him up onto the platform. With his necktie now at your eye-level, you begin to unravel whatever knot he had attempted. All the while, you can feel his gaze as he watches you do your thing, completely enamored. This time, it’s your turn to turn red. To distract yourself from the rising self-consciousness, you clear your throat, “call me whenever you’re going through a hard time, okay? I’ll give you my new number…”

The piece of fabric flails around into equally atrocious knots that Jin had previously created until you groan in frustration and disassemble everything. You had practiced this so many times while he was gone, foolishly believing it would come in handy the day he returned, but why does nothing ever work out the way you want it to? 

“I swear it worked last time I tried…”

Your best friend just watches silently, chuckling as you wrap the fabric around your own neck this time; and when he speaks, much steadier like the Jin you have always known, he looks you directly in the eye. “Youngji told me about your guys’ conversation.”

“Huh?” you pause as soon as your embarrassing declaration of love begins reciting itself in your head, but not even the resumed work of your hands could distract you from the ever-growing shade of red. “O-oh, that… what about it?” 

“I heard what you said about me.” 

“Yeah?” you hum nonchalantly, even though the trembling of your hands and the avoidance of your eyes from his give you away. “Well, did she tell you about all the complaints I made, too? About you being a stupid dork?”

“She did,” he utters before placing a finger below your chin to avert your attention to those dazzling works you desperately avoided, “but would you still be willing to marry this stupid dork?”  

“This isn’t even a real wedding,” you feign a frown under the spotlight of his intent gaze, “why are you asking me a question like that?”

“Sorry, I didn’t have the funds to hire a real priest.” 

“You don’t need to for a fake wedding.”

“I thought you said we should be ‘ignorantly happy for one day?’” 

The bantering just never stops, does it?

“Okay, well… to answer your question,” you mutter, eyes averting to the side, “under normal circumstances…”

“Under normal circumstances…” he repeats.

“Where you aren’t engaged…”

“Where I’m not engaged…”

“And your father approved of me…”

“And my father approved of you…”

“Then yes,” you say without hesitation, eyes returning to find a newfound comfort in his relieved gaze, “yes, I would marry you.” 

“And that’s why I love you,” Jin smiles, chuckling softly. “I’ll always want to marry you.”  

And just as a nearby clock tower strikes its church bells to signal the stroke of midnight, Jin grabs the end of your necktie and pulls you in to press his lips onto yours. The body of his warmth and the acceptance of an inevitable end to your paths serve as the last page of a book never to be read again; and yet, he holds himself close, refusing to let you go. 

But when the end nears and the magic of the bells resume time once again, the two of you pull away to catch your breaths. Forehead against yours, Jin gives you one last, fleeting kiss. 

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Deja vu would be the perfect term to describe this feeling.  You can almost see yourself in the room of hundreds, stealing glances at the man from afar. It only takes one blink for you to relive the rollercoaster of jubilance and confessions and tears. In the split second of darkness, the past week flickers before you like a film reel: breaking down in the middle of the hallway right in front of Jin, staring bewilderedly at the large bouquet in the hand of a man at the office, confessing with tears that stain your face and sobs that conquer your voice, meeting the woman who had stolen your spot beside Jin, and holding him in your arms as he cries his heart out at the stroke of midnight. 

And just as quickly as the whirlwind of memories had taken you on a trek of time, your eyes flutter open to find yourself in another suffocating room of hundreds once again. 

Youngji [8:39 P.M.] Hey Y/N do you think you can visit me real quick? 

The glaring text on your phone screen glows in an otherwise dimly lit reception room. Thumb hovering over the screen, your mind goes blank. People pass by you, commotions and laughter fill every corner of the room, and you stand there frozen and affixed to the floor beside the table of food with a glass of red wine in your hands. 

“Hey, Y/N,” someone whispers into your ear and you immediately turn your phone off only to find Alex on her tiptoes, “what’s the matter?”

“Oh, um, nothing,” you respond under your breath, “it’s just that someone wants to talk to me.” 

“Well, you better hurry then,” she ushers you with a gripping hand on your left arm, “the ceremony is about to start anytime now.” 

“O-oh, okay,” you nod, allowing your footsteps to follow the momentum of her push. 

This isn’t exactly what you had planned, for the original plan involved your complete avoidance of the groom and bride, but it’s unsurprising that things never quite go your way. Nothing could quite topple you like last night’s revelation anyways. Taking a deep breath, you weave through the audience, wandering about the venue until you finally find yourself in front of a door with a “BRIDE WAITING ROOM” printed in gigantic black letters taped to it. 

Hesitantly, you knock, “hello? This is Y/N…? Youngji called for me—”

“—Y/N!” The wooden door swings wide open with a highly distressed Youngji hiding behind it. Before you can reply or even confirm the identity of the woman, her hands clutch yours and pull you into the room with a force unimaginable for a human of her size.  Practically lurching forward, a heap of air is knocked from your lungs just as the door slams closed. Coughs force their way through your throat, but Youngji wastes no time to rush to your side. “Y/N, this is an emergency! I need help!” 

“W—” you wheeze, peering up at her as you’re doubled over “—what in the world are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know,” her hands jitter as she paces back and forth, “I don’t know why I feel so… so nervous!”

“Hold on,” you frown, finally straightening your back, “that’s perfectly normal. It’s your wedding—”

“—please don’t say that word again,” she begins biting her freshly white-coated nails.

“What word? Normal? Wedding? Your—”

“—I can’t believe it’s my wedding…” she says repeatedly, hands flying to her head and disheveling her previously perfectly conditioned curls. She suddenly turns to face you, eyes wider than ever with a look that screams of an epiphany. “I-I don’t think I can go there. Y/N, I don’t think I can go out there!”

“What?!” you almost yell, flabbergasted. Recoiling from your outburst, you start much more softly this time. “Are you sure? I’m sure it’s just your nerves getting to you. You’ve been okay with it for at least a year, right?”

“Why?” her eyes widen to unprecedented diameters as she grabs your arm for support. “Is it because it’s too late? Do you think I should back out, Y/N?”

“What? No, no, no, calm down, follow me,” you shake your head, grasping her hand and guiding her to the chair in the center of the room where an entire photo shoot has been set up. Lowering yourself to a squat, you give her a squeeze as firm as the smile on your lips.  “Hey, you’ll be okay. It’s just the jitters. Everyone gets them. I’m sure Jin is freaking out in his room, too.”

“...okay,” she nods, pouting as her eyes lower to your hands that hold hers. Peering up at her from below, you can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks dolled up on this special occasion. From the extravagant poof of her princess gown to the gorgeous glow of the bride herself, you find yourself lost in a trance that burns with heart-panging jealousy. You almost miss her when she murmurs, “how are you so calm, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you raise a brow and laugh. “Why would I be nervous? I’m not the one getting married here.”  

“But… your best friend is getting married,” she shifts to get a clearer look of you but finds you with your eyes to the floor, “are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Of… of course. I’m happy for him,” you say through barely parted lips and stand to your feet before making your way to the door. “It’s not exactly traditional, but do you want me to get Jin? Maybe he can calm you down—”

“—do you know why Jin agreed to this arrangement?” 

Freezing in your tracks, you throw a glance over your shoulder to meet her distraught gaze. 

“Why are you asking me that now?”

“Because,” she blurts, clearly without thinking as words fail to follow through, “because I want your blessing! I want you to be okay with it!” 

“Blessing...?” 

“Yes,” she nods. “I can live with marrying a man I don’t love because I know I’ll come around, but I don’t think I can live knowing I’ve broken your relationship with Jin.”

Your weight shifts from your left to your right but the force of burden weighs immeasurably heavier on your very being. There’s nothing that would have prepared you for her request. Preparation, however, proves unnecessary, for your mind runs on its own and the words come to you as if rehearsal is all it's ever done. 

“I don’t think I’m in the position to grant you permission. That’s your decision and Jin’s,” you say, “and if my blessing is what you’re asking for, then I can give you it as many times as it takes to convince you. But if you’re asking for me to be okay with it, then I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give you that.” 

Those are your last parting words as you slump on the wall behind you and a heavy sigh is shared between the two women on opposite sides of the door. Head low like a woman unjustly ashamed for speaking her truth, you take a deep breath with those heavy shoulders that carry the weight of a woman who had essentially cursed the joining of two hands. Nevertheless, somehow, you persist to make your way through the halls just as the ceremony begins; but as the audience settles and the light dims, something tells you the guilt that intoxicates your blood would have a longer-lasting aftermath than you had first expected. 

“Hey,” Alex leans into you, whispering, “is it just me or does Jin seem really jittery?”

“...no,” you answer, making sure to keep yourself hushed amidst a room of seated spectators. From the second bench to the front, fortunately on the opposite side of where Jin’s parents sit in the front row, you get a clear view of Jin and Youngji in between the black silhouettes of a couple heads; but anyone in the room can tell the bright studio lights and elevated platform don’t help his constantly shuffling case. “I don’t think it’s just you.”

“I see… so both the groom and bride are getting cold feet, huh?” 

“Well,” you utter, quipping, “in Jin’s case, he’d probably just say he forgot to sleep with socks on.” 

Alex turns to you with sheer confusion across her furrowed brows, “huh?” 

But before Alex could inquire further, the priest clears his throat and begins the opening ceremony. The officiality of it all, a long-dreaded image of Jin standing by another woman’s side manifesting into reality, has you subconsciously sent into a frenzy. 

“Dear Beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Kim Seokjin and Heo Youngji in matrimony commended to be honorable among all…”

The clearing of his throat strikes once and hard against your chest. Each word that reverberates in the room echoes the vibrating pain in the blood pumped from a gaping wound. Your chest heaves and heaves and your lungs struggle to maintain composure, and while your breakdown may have gone unseen by the rest of the universe, you know for sure only two would catch sight of your state.

You and him. 

“...if there is any person who can show cause why they should not be joined together…”

The priest continues and the tension in the audience rises by the second of a stress-inducing prompt, but the moment Jin catches your eyes and the panic painted across it, his every attention remains on you. Guilt should’ve painted your expression now, having stolen the groom’s admiration from the rightful bride by his side, but all you can do is relish in a fleeting moment you deem the least this cruel world owed you. 

Maybe he feels the same way, because something catches in your throat like the hunch that has chills running down the nape of your neck. You don’t dare move an inch. You fear any movement would give you away, though you’re sure he already knew the second he met you halfway.

His eyes, those dazzling eyes that could single-handedly freeze any moment in time, they ask you for a permission only he could grant. 

“...let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” 

No one speaks but the thick air that engulfs every witness in the room is telling enough. Holding a shared, bated breath, everyone awaits and prays for the quick passing of this deafening silence. Your heart is pounding so hard you worry your passing out would be the one interruption to the ceremony, if not anything else. It takes everything in you to remain hidden, glued to the chair. You can hear every single movement in this room, the squeaking of a nearly retired bench, the rustling of clothes amidst a fidgeting audience, the anxious tapping of someone’s heels against the wooden floor, yet no one dares to speak now. 

The priest sighs a soft breath of relief. 

Everyone but you follows along. 

The priest clears his throat and pro—

“—I would like to speak.”

A loud gasp travels across the room. Every witness, including the priest himself, stares at the young man, wide-eyed. The knot in your throat inhibits you from following suit, but the hammer against your chest works harder than ever; because there he is, your best friend, standing boldly before the audience with a puffed chest and a tightened fist that brace for the repercussions. 

It all happens so suddenly, so swiftly. The strings that were left raveled now unraveled, the paths that were abandoned now explored, and the love of a lifetime whomst once bid you farewell now holds on with a determination that tells you they aren’t quite ready to let go, by happenstance or by conviction, everything falls into place. 

You had reprimanded yourself relentlessly for envisioning a moment like this and you truly believed this would be the worst case scenario, so why is it that only now, as your peering eyes are enamored by the sparkles in his, you find yourself smiling proudly and thinking to yourself… that’s your man. 

“Father, mother,” Jin turns to face his parents in the front row, declaring loudly and firmly, “I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love.” 

“What,” Alex shrills under her breath as she clutches your hands, “what is going on, Y/N?!”

Her voice doesn’t reach you and neither do her cold, nudging hands. The ongoing commotion around the room are like white noise in your background. You can’t even spare a second of your attention to the picturesque vision before you, the man who fights not for you but for the two of you.

Jin bows, head hanging low to his parents and the audience, “I’m sorry for saying this too late.” 

Everybody watches as his mother attempts to hold her husband in place. All is in vein, however, when one look of the baffled expression on her husband’s face conveys enough to everyone of the mayhem that is soon to ensue. He rips her grip apart from his arm and storms to his feet, pointing a finger at his apologetic son.

“W—” he struggles to find his breath “—what are you saying? You said you were okay with this just last week!”

“I did,” Jin affirms with his head still hanging low, “I thought I was okay with it until this week.” 

“How—”

“—honey…” the mother murmurs.

“No, changing your mind is one thing, but changing it at the very last second is another,” his father shakes his head, yanking his hand and stumbling on his feet before his distraught son could lend a helping hand. “Did I teach you to inconvenience others like this? Do you know how much trouble you’re causing Youngji and her family?”

“I do,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

His father grunts, “don’t you see, Seokjin? ‘Sorry’ can’t fix everything—”

“—actually, Mr. Kim, it’s not just Jin,” Youngji bounces to Jin’s side then pivots to bow to her parents who sit in the row before you, “I, too, don’t want to marry anyone until I really know them.” 

Physically, the spotlight remains affixed to the stage. Mentally, it feels as though everyone’s attention is gradually creeping its way toward you. It takes everything in you and the grip of Alex’s hands not to run from the prying eyes. 

“What?” their parents gasp. “Didn’t you say you were okay with it if it were Jin?”

“I did!” she insists, suddenly retracting. “I did, until…”

“I’m sorry,” Jin lifts his head to turn to Youngji’s parents before bowing once again, “this is all my fault.”

“No, no, you wouldn’t do this... tell me, son,” his father takes a step toward the stage, beckoning for an explanation, “tell me who did this to you?” 

Jin lifts his head, brow furrowing and lips thinning as he chooses to remain silent to his father’s question. Suddenly, it’s everyone’s duty to catch the perpetrator. The audience begins craning their neck every which way to skim over the possible candidates. Your heart sends threatening waves of pain that foreshadow the inevitable chaos you’re about to be dragged into. 

You can barely move from staring at the floor in between the groom and bride but you can spot the gradual direction of his mother’s eyes making its way toward you… and when they finally spot you, a lightbulb flashing across her eyes the second you make the lethal mistake of meeting her gaze for the first time in many years, it’s as though her son’s rebellion is the only thing that makes sense in this universe. 

Only naturally, his father catches onto his partner’s maternal instincts along with the rest of the crowd as their diverged attention converges, one head turning after another, to stare you down—some with awe plastered across their jealous front, some with ghastly colors than drain their face of blood. 

“Is that… you, Y/N?” his father’s voice echoes in the room. “Seokjin, don’t tell me…”

“No, father!” Jin jumps in, holding up a defensive pair of hands as he attempts to quell the fiery in his father’s temper. Wide-eyed and panicked, he glances between you and his father. “It isn’t her fault. I swear. I”ll explain—”

“—don’t tell me you’re going through all this trouble for a childish crush from five years ago?” 

A loud shriek began the chaos the second Jin’s father exploded, lurching forward with a vexing fist. Everyone in the front rows jump to their feet to hold him back, whereas people in the back rows stand to their tiptoes to get a better view of the climactic show, which includes a once-to-be-groom insisting his father punishes him and a once-to-be-bride slapping her ex-partner in the head for his submission. 

People are hysterically laughing, crying, screaming, yelling, fighting, but you sit there, frozen and petrified, until a hand shakes your entire being to your feet. 

“Y/N, Y/N, God damn it Y/N, earth to Y/N!” Alex raises her hand, just about to give you one hard slap to the cheek when you suddenly flinch awake. She then hastily pushes you toward the door in the corner of the room whilst everyone is too distracted to notice your discreet escape. She looks you directly in the eye, “you need to run before things get too crazy. I’ll handle things here for now.” 

“But Alex, I’m at fault here—”

“—yes, I mean, maybe,” she corrects herself with the shake of her head, “but you being here doesn’t help matters. I’ll help Jin and Youngji.”

“But—”

“—now go,” she starts your momentum with an encouraging push, “go!”

Nodding, you begin your long trek of the night. You run and you run and you run. Your mind runs blank but your feet run a mind of its own. You sprint down the dimly lit streets, you pay no mind to the traffic lights of endlessly empty streets, and your hair twirls in the wind that impedes your speed down the hills. Your surroundings become a blur as your arms swing desperately, your chest heaves incessantly, your eyes sting with tears, and your lips spill anguished sounds of incoherency until somehow, under the sway of the town’s cold spring air and your flux of emotions, you find yourself in a familiar street of your greatest dreams. 

Depleted of gas, your feet stumble into a trot that has your knee nearly buckling, which then turns into a jog that then drifts into an untroubled walk in which your lungs try to catch up and your mind is scrambling at a hundred miles per hour but you, yourself, have gone elsewhere. 

The luminescence of the full moon is blinding but all the more soothing as you navigate your way through this street you’ve walked one too many times before. For some reason, perhaps out of habit or a hope for something waiting at the end of the tunnel, you begin to count each passing light post. Seven fluorescent lights, you count, seven lights resembling the rays of moonlight until you finally reach your old acquaintance of many years at the corner of the street. 

Leaning your head back to stare at the familiar white text on a green sign post, you smile at the homely sight. 

CHERRY BLOSSOM AVE

A comforting breeze blows by you, the branches above you rustle in the wind, and the cherry petals from your old pal flutter into the air to envelop you in a solace you had long sought but failed to obtain. It’s like the calm after a storm. Not quite disconnected from the string that loops around your fourth finger to those of another man’s—no, you couldn’t unravel it after all this heartache—but at least away from the prying eyes that could tear you apart and away from the people who whispered gossip of matters they had none in. 

Hours seem to pass in the clouds that retire to reveal patches of new twinkling ornaments. You would have believed it if someone were to tell you all control of time lies within the blink of your eyes. The silence was calming initially; but the longer you stand here and the more the numbness begins to fade, the more you become aware of your lonesome circumstances. 

The silence is deafening. It knows your greatest fears and your innermost thoughts. You can’t handle it. You can’t bear the thought of being left alone to that voice in your head. 

You have to go. 

Where? 

You don’t know. You just know you have to go somewhere. You can envision all the places you can run to but all the roads lead you to one destination. Yes, anywhere would be fine, anywhere that leads you to him. 

“This marks the second time you’ve ever been so enraptured by something other than me.” 

Whirling around, seconds seem to become milliseconds and gravity becomes a law unbeknownst to earth, for you can’t believe the sight your eyes lay upon. There he is, standing by the tree just a few meters away with a loosened necktie and disheveled hair, almost as if a pitiful albeit wondrous mirage crafted by your shoddy prayers to the moon above. 

“Hey dummy,” he simply utters, taking a step or two toward you before poking your forehead, “what? Why’re you staring at me like I’m a ghost?” 

“What?” you manage to say under your breath. “I’m not staring…”

“I was just joking, you know?” he chuckles. “I wouldn’t be jealous over a street post. Psh, I’m not that dumb—”

“—why…” you frown when he quirks a brow, “why are you here? How are you here?”

“Oh no, she’s gone crazy,” Jin laughs at the stupefied look you give him. “At least an hour or two has passed since you left. Somehow, I managed to sit my father down and explain myself.” 

“And… what did he say?” your hands begin fidgeting. “He must hate me, doesn’t he…”

“I wouldn’t say ‘hate,’ per se… he’s perfectly okay with you. In fact, he likes you, really. He’s just mad at how things happened. After he calmed down, though, he understood where I was coming from.” 

Cautiously, you peek at those eyes that peer down at yours, “and your mother…?”

“She said she saw it coming from a mile away. Apparently she saw us arguing at the engagement party and knew right away,” Jin purses his lips. “Psh, yeah, as if I’m that easy to read.” 

Allowing yourself the smallest of laughs, you still can’t seem to rid yourself of that panging guilt. “And… what about Youngji?” 

Jin stares intently at your expression before cracking a smile and chuckling, ruffling your hair, “don’t go crying on me now, Y/N. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything.” 

“But I just,” your voice cracks, “I just hate myself for ruining everything for everyone—”

“—hey,” he cups his fingers underneath your chin to lift your gaze to his, “you did not ruin anything for anyone. I did this. I chose to fight for us.” 

Hesitantly, you nod and he smiles in response. 

“Youngji’s still explaining to her family right now. She told me to find you and Alex told me you would probably here.” 

Frowning, you mutter to yourself, “how did she know…?” 

“Well,” Jin drops his hand from your chin to raise them in the air, “we did promise to swear our wedding vows here, didn’t we?” 

“So what?” you deadpan. “You’re gonna marry me now after all this mess?” 

“I know you really want to marry me as soon as possible, but I think I’m gonna have to take a break from weddings for now.” 

Rolling your eyes, you mumble, “ditto.”

“But hey, I may have already broken the third promise,” one corner of his lips curve into an apologetic smile before he shrugs, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t marry you in the future! Plus, I may or may not have promised my father I would marry you in the near future to make up for it, so...” 

Scoffing, you gawk, “and who said I would marry you?” 

“Who wouldn’t marry me?!” 

The two of you stare at each other in silence, but the mirrored grin that stretches across your lips are undeniable. Soon enough, a loud fit of giggles and cackles fill the air. It happens all too quickly. The banters come to you like second nature, the conversation flows like a river through time, and somehow you find yourself lying beside him on the blazer he had laid out on the grassy hill and star-gazing for hours on end. 

It’s almost like you’ve seen this all before, just five years aged. 

“So,” Jin speaks, “how’s your birthday been?” 

“Oh, shut the hell up.” 

“What?” he cackles, getting up to lean on his arm whilst hovering you. “You know it’s not too late to tell me what you want for your birthday!” 

“I already told you,” you narrow your eyes at him, “I wasn’t joking when I said what I said.” 

Jin smiles, “in that case…”

He leans in to diminish the distance between his lips and yours. A lulling zephyr blows gently on the cherry petals as you close your eyes and you can picture the way they gracefully descend upon the two lovers below. Having witnessed the unforeseeable promises from start to finish, it’s almost as though an old accomplice was applauding a long-awaited finale. 

And when he finally pulls away, eyelids fluttering open just as yours do, he speaks, “happy birthday.” 

“What was that for?” you giggle. 

Jin’s mouth falls agape, “I’m giving you what you wanted for your birthday!”

“Well,” you purse your lips, “where’s my ring to confirm it then?”

“After all this time, do you really need a ring at this point to confirm my love for you?” Jin rolls his eyes. “You know I’ll always want to be by your side, married or not.” 

A fit of laughs escape you as your hand reaches up to squeeze his cheeks, “I know, I know. I’m just joking.”

“Well, good, cause I’m bankrupt at the moment,” Jin sighs, plopping back onto the grass beside you. A momentary silence passes before he turns his head to look at you, “just to make sure, you said you wanted love, right?” 

Turning to meet those sparkles in his gaze, you answer, “yeah?”

“You said you wanted to feel love, right?” 

Your grin grows wider by the second, “yeah?” 

“Well,” he says, “do you feel it?” 

“I do,” you answer. “What about you? Do you feel it?”

The vows hold a truth much closer to his heart this time around, and he smiles as he swears...

“I do, too.” 

[junowritings]

Hello! Can I request hcs of the dorm leaders having a crush on reader please? Normally reader is a pretty shy and serious person. But one day, they see reader from afar (alone or with Grimm): Reader is acting happy go lucky and goofy, without a care in the world. How would they react? (Reader is the type to be silent and introverted in social situations but when they are alone or with someone they are comfortable with, they act bubbly and lively) Thank you!

dfghjhgfds okay so I really got carried away with this one and it shows - this focused less on the crush and more like moments between them so I hope that you like this hun~! ------

Riddle

♡ How someone so serious and reserved managed to wrangle Heartslabyul’s first years into an unlikely friendship is anyone’s guess, but it really didn’t take long after your appearance at Night Raven College before Ace and Deuce started hanging out with you and Grim. Riddle’s heard talk about you before actually meeting you for himself - it seems that even despite your shy demeanor, you’ve become fast friends with some of the other dorm members. Trey’s talked about you coming over to watch him bake, and how you were pretty adept at listening to instructions; and Cater often brings you up in conversation, bringing up some of the selfies he’s roped you into taking with him and showing them to Riddle, lamenting about how you seem to clam up at the mere prospect of large crowds.  ♡ It’s because of this that he’s somewhat prepared when the two of you initially run into one another - if only the circumstances were better given the whole unbirthday party issue. Still, that doesn’t seem to ward you off, if anything, Riddle finds you visiting Heartslabyul even more often after that event ♡ All things considered, you and Riddle actually get along rather well - whilst you don’t talk much, preferring to let the people around you do that talking for you, you’re rather pleasant company to have around. You don’t know even a quarter of the dorm’s rules, but he recognizes your effort to adhere to them as best as you’re able when you come to visit, and for what it’s worth the effort doesn’t go unappreciated on Riddle’s part, especially on his journey to be a little more lenient. He’s not exactly sure when you start winning his favor, or when he starts paying attention to little details about you when you’re around, but he notices he seems to act a little softer during your interactions, though he swears to himself that’s an unconscious reaction to a friend and nothing more. ♡ He’s heard Grim mention that you’re way more outgoing when you’re at Ramshackle alone, and Riddle has to ponder on if it’s because you’re more comfortable being yourself on your own. He’s the first to recognize that you’re more bubbly and lively when you’re comfortable, but doesn’t see it for himself till later on.  ♡ He’s walking through the dorm halls on his way back to his room, when he hears snickering coming from the common room. Nothing too unusual, but he finds himself idly wondering what’s going on in there, so he makes a small detour to double check, just in case there’s trouble brewing. Riddle walks past the common room, watches a familiar black furball go flying up into the air, and promptly backtracks to see what’s going on. He’s already preparing to chew what he assumes is some plucky first years making a mess of the common room, when he spots you, arms outstretched as Grim falls and drops on top of you, where you skillfully catch him.  ♡ You’re beaming at such a simple action, scritching Grim behind the ears as you hold the monster back up; Riddle doesn’t understand exactly what you’re doing until he watches Grim go soaring back into the air thanks to you promptly tossing him up at the cat’s signal. The sight is weird - especially because he’s pretty sure that Grim could fly just fine the last time he checked, but you genuinely look like you’re having a lot of fun throwing the feline up into the air and catching him, getting progressively higher each time. ♡ It appears Grim must trust you more than he lets on to let you do this, either that or the head pats you give him every time he comes back down is enough of a bribe to go along with the little game you’re playing. It’s rather childish, and not something he expected to ever catch you doing, which is exactly why he justifies staring at the scene for as long as he does instead of stepping in. There’s something about the way that you’re acting now that seems almost carefree, nothing quite like the stern, solemn look on your face back when he’d first caught sight of you at the induction. In all honesty it’s an almost enviable expression, or at least, that’s the feeling Riddle assumes he’s feeling when a warmth starts welling up in his chest the longer he watches the two of you play together.

Leona

♡ Has no idea how he ended up crushing on you - you’re quiet, keeping to yourself most of the time unless you get dragged into other people’s problems. That honestly suits him just fine since it means you’re less of a pain to have around - he doesn’t have to concern himself with needless blabbering or deal with the stunts the more reckless ones of his dorm seem to have a field day trying to pull off. 

♡ The longer you and Leona are around one another, the more he’s convinced that there’s more to you than what you’re letting on. Sometimes, he’ll see little flashes of something beneath your usual silent demeanor, especially during moments when you’re happy; it’s like you want to express yourself more, be more open with your feelings. But every time he sees those flashes they’re gone just as quick, which makes him start actively keeping an eye out for those little moments.

♡ One such moment is where he gets a proper glimpse at what you’re like when you’re truly comfortable. Leona was more focused on trying to nap rather than entertain guests, so he’d let Ruggie take care of you while he found a spot to get comfortable; he’s in and out of it, only half paying attention when the sound of giggling rouses him. With a grumble, unamused at being disturbed, Leona cracks an eye open to see what Ruggie’s up to now - fully expecting you to be the latest recipient of one of the hyena’s latest trick when he sees the two of you sat on the floor, legs crossed and facing each other.

♡ It’s easy to assume at first that Ruggie’s just using his unique magic on you to make you follow along with his expressions and actions, but the longer Leona watches the pair of you, he notices that your reactions are just a beat slower than Ruggies, as though you’re waiting for the hyena to move first and acting accordingly. If imitating Ruggie’s your game, you’re doing a pretty good job of it, but every time you mirror his expression Leona can see the pair of you physically struggling to stop yourselves from laughing, watching you bite your lip and seeing the corners of your eyes crinkle in an effort to steel your expression even as a smile tugs at your lips. Ruggie’s not much better, grinning like a fool as he works to make you pull the silliest expressions he can muster, making himself look equally ridiculous in the process.

♡ It’s a childish game, and you’re sure that you can hear Leona huff at the silly display, but that doesn’t stop him from watching the scene play out, easing himself up from his previous napping position into one more comfortable to keep watching. He’s more focused on you than he is Ruggie, watching your expression contort every which way before breaking out into that same grin when a snort of laughter ruins the otherwise quiet of the game. You don’t look as serious and timid as what he’s used to seeing, and you’re interacting way more than you usually do, even sticking Ruggie with some spicy retorts every time he snickers about how silly you look. It’s actually kind of refreshing, in a way, to have his suspicions confirmed that you weren’t just that silent stone wall that others had stuck you to be, so he finds himself looking at that grin of yours like he’s trying to carve it into memory.

♡ Leona makes a comment about your expressions, a little jab that you’re used to hearing by now after being around him for so long; but Leona’s surprised to find that you’ve got a little backbone this time around, sticking him with a defiant huff as you stick your tongue out at him. It’s bratty behavior, but he at least appreciates the cheek you have to pull that face at him before you whirl back around, hands excitedly patting your legs as you egg Ruggie to keep going with this little imitation show. You can’t see it, but that action earns you a raised brow before Leona shakes his head, running a hand through his hair as he flops back down, making you assume that he’s trying to get back to sleep as you continue playing - and he would be, if he didn’t want to keep listening to the sound of your carefree laughter for just a it longer. 

Azul

♡ Azul knows better than to just assume that everyone shows their true personalities without hesitation - keeping your cards to yourself until it’s safe and avoiding moments of vulnerability around those you aren’t close to are traits that he knows all too well. And it’s precisely because of this that he doesn’t immediately judge you based on your initial shyness, instead opting to give it time and see how things pan out. Besides, after the events of that whole contract incident, the way you ended up handling it, and the things that have been thrown at you since, has piqued the dorm leader’s interest.

♡ Visiting Monstro lounge after hours has become a common occurrence, to the point where Azul’s more used to seeing you sitting somewhere in the lounge than he is not - there’s an unusual emptiness to the place on the days that you can’t make it, even if Azul’s not always interacting with you outside of the nod of acknowledgment and initial greeting. Whether you enjoy the quiet atmosphere or the company is anybody's guess, but when you’re visiting on your own you hardly cause any trouble, so Azul doesn’t mind you coming around in the slightest. Plus, you have a tendency to keep Floyd occupied when things get slow, which works out for everybody working there since he enjoys having you around as well. Today’s one such day where you’ve got his attention, as you’re helping to move some of the stuff people have left behind on the counter for the brother’s to pick up. Upon seeing the little collection of cups you’re making, Floyd doesn’t think twice about sliding one over to you, with little warning other than telling you to catch as he does so.

♡ You’d acted without thinking; all you’d seen was a glass coming at you from the corner of your eye and you swatted it back the way it came, almost immediately realizing your mistake as you whip your head around to watch the cup coast back over to Floyd. He looks down at the glass with a look of surprise as he catches it, but in the next  moment that confusion is replaced with an amused grin and he nudges once again over to your side of the counter. This time you actually grab it, and after a second of skeptically eyeing the glass and Floyd you send it back at him; and, just like that, your new little minigame is afoot.

♡ The glass whizzes back and forth, getting progressively faster with each clink across the counter. And it’s that clinking that draws Azul’s attention, as the sound is enough to draw him into turning his focus over to the counter, watching the two of you play. You’re focused, tongue poking from the corner of your mouth as you focus on the glass as it comes back towards you; Floyd’s also thoroughly invested by the little game, and Azul can see his grin getting a little wider every time you have to lean over to bat it back over in his direction. It’s only a matter of time before something happens, Azul can see that clearly with how fast the glass is moving, but instead of calling out to the two of you to stop, Azul watches the exchange anyways, if only to wait for that moment to come.

♡ You must have underestimated the shot, as the next time that the glass goes whizzing towards Floyd it slips right past him and rockets off the counter. You both yell and make a grab for it even though you’re on the far end - Floyd just about falls off of the bar stool trying to snag it only to hit the floor hard enough to make the shelves rattle. Thankfully, Jade’s able to pluck it right from the air right before it hits the ground, sauntering back to the kitchen and carrying the leftover glasses from the remaining tables with him.

♡ Floyd pouts and mourns the loss of your playing glass, but you burst out into a cheer at the nice save, clapping for the Leech twin as he nods in your direction and offers you a smile as he disappears into the back room. The sudden outburst actually shocks Azul, who regards your shout with wide eyes; he’s never heard you yell before, much less that loud, so the sound catches him off guard. It seems that you catch yourself just as fast however, as the second you spot Azul looking at you, your face visibly flushes, embarrassed over him watching over the little scene, face only turning brighter when he flashes you a smile upon noticing you looking at him.

Kalim

♡ Honestly, the two of you couldn’t be more polar opposites to people on the outside looking in. Kalim’s good vibes personified, whereas you’re incredibly introverted and shy around people that you don’t know too well; it makes for an interesting dynamic between the two of you, but Kalim takes it all in stride! Regardless of whether you’re the shyest person in the world, or if you’re the most outgoing, Kalim has a way of finding the best in people and wants to be friends if you’re up for it. So when you first meet at the induction ceremony and you greet him, timid and nervous, Kalim’s really excited to greet you back, already armed with a slew of questions and things he wants to know - what can he say? He’s always interested in getting to know new people! And you’re no exception.

♡ You’re not much of a talker, preferring to let Grim or your other friends do the talking for you, but Kalim doesn’t mind in the least! Though he’s the kind of person that tries to take any and all opportunities to coax you into talking more, which can be very overwhelming during the first few weeks that you spend getting to know him. Fortunately, Jamil’s almost always there to rear him back and stop him from getting overly excited whenever he starts noticing that you’re getting uncomfortable or overwhelmed. It helps that Kalim gets Grim to warm up to him really easily, as seeing that your dormmate actually wants to hang out around him too makes you feel a bit more comfortable hanging out around him and letting loose a little more than you usually would.

♡ And Kalim’s not the only one excited for your visits. His magic carpet’s got a mind of its own and a playful streak that’s apparently only amplified whenever Grim’s in the vicinity - looks like the fluffy monster makes for a prime playmate. You, frankly, find that fact adorable, but Grim gets so miffed being constantly hounded by a magic rug that he actively goes out of his way to avoid it, even if that means swallowing his pride and hiding under or behind something until it’s gone (a fact that you love to bring up when it’s just the two of you - that’s gained you more than a few singed hairs). Unfortunately for your fluffy companion however, neither of you have really been good at knowing where exactly it is when you drop by Scarabia to hang out with Kalim, which means you either don’t have any interactions with it at all, or you do and…well, you get situations such as this.

♡ You’re walking in stride with Kalim, listening to him as he talks - he loves that you’re such a great listener, though that’s only an added bonus thanks to your usually shy demeanor (not that you’d tell him that, he looks so happy every time he gets to ramble you could listen to him talk all day). He’s mid conversation when you spot something whizz across your vision from the corner of your eye - you have no idea what it is, but you’ve got an idea of what it could be when you spot another flash of vibrant fabric. 

♡ Unlike you Kalim’s completely oblivious to this, and you’re still not quite sure what you’re seeing till you finally watch a blur round the corner. The carpet spots Grim, and in the next second Grim’s gone from his spot and zipping down the hall on the carpet's back. His scream is abrupt and loud enough that your ears ring, but the sight of the cat clinging to the fabric and cussing up a storm of curses you didn’t even know he knew makes you react without thinking.

♡ You burst into laughter, throwing your head back before you can even stop yourself watching Grim disappear from view down the corridor. As soon as he hears you laugh, unabashed and unrestrained, Kalim just falls so hard. He’s seen you smile - he’s actually been responsible for making you smile on more than one occasion, and he loves that he’s been able to do so - but there’s just something about the pure joy in your voice, tinged with disbelief, that makes this moment different. It’s the type of laugh that has you leaning against the wall for support and clutching your side, and you only laugh harder when you hear Grim’s voice in the distance, shrieking at you to stop laughing.

♡ Your laughter is contagious, and it isn’t long before Kalim joins in laughing alongside you; that really doesn’t help calm you down, if anything it spurs you on into a spiral until both of you are laughing hard enough that you’re leaning up against each others shoulders every time you hear Grim’s voice carrying on the wind - it’s a moment to remember for sure.

Vil

♡ You’re shy, reserved and keep to yourself unless it’s something you need to actively get involved in, so perhaps it's exactly that reason that you fly under Vil’s radar for so long. Back at the auditions you had looked as though you’d rather be anywhere else rather than being swarmed by your fellow students, visibly shying away and keeping to your small little bubble of friends right up until the moment that the auditions started. Perhaps it was an act of mercy that you weren’t picked as one of the main performers, and he’d fully expected that to be the last direct interaction that he had with you and that fuzzy little thing that hovers around you all of the time.

♡ Only it isn't, even after the events of the VDC it's as though you’d resolved to go out of your way to visit Pomfiore, having gotten attached to your new friends and wanting to make the effort to keep them close even if it was through quick visits. Your self proclaimed task seems easier, given that little Epel has been unanimously adopted into your little gaggle of potatoes and you’ve gotten rather close to some of the other Pomfiore members since meeting them.

♡ It seems like you’ve wormed your way into the hearts of the Vil’s dormmates - Epel’s hanging around you just about every time that he’s spotted you on school grounds, and Rook is ever doting. Vil’s not really one to talk however, given that he’s the first person to greet you whenever you come to the Pomfiore dorm for one reason or another. This is one such instance - apparently one of your little group had decided to cook some desserts and had an abundance of fruits and treats leftover, so you’d brought a couple to share, with Ace and Grim in tow as you offered Vil a rather excited greeting upon seeing him at the door.

♡ An impromptu call had pulled him away from the group momentarily, and by the time the whole mess was sorted out he was already preparing for the chaos your friends must have caused in his absence (seriously, it’s like they go out of their way to nearly break something). However, as he comes to stand in the doorway, he’s accosted by the sight of what looks like a piece of fruit skimming through the air only to land in Grim’s mouth as the monster zips up to snag it. It appears that while he was gone you’d started up a little game of throwing food across the room for Grim to catch, and given the lack of mess on the floor it appears the monster’s been doing a fair job of catching what you toss. You’re biting back a chuckle as you reach for the next piece of fruit, aiming an apple slice in Grim’s direction and asking if he’s ready - in response he grins and rubs his paws together. 

♡ You toss the piece, watching it move through the air and waiting for Grim to catch it. It looks like your trajectory was a bit off however, as it ends up sailing directly over Grim’s head and towards the windowsill where Rook’s sitting; your face immediately flashes to one of panic as you start to rise from your chair, the beginnings of a warning starting to form. It’s almost seamless how swift Rook turns his head, and before you can even blink he’s holding the apple slice between his teeth, flashing a wink before eating it and praising you for the impeccable aim.

♡ This is the first time that Vil’s seen you visibly brighten at the sight of a challenge, and he finds himself pausing in the doorway as he watches you straighten up in your chair, leaning on your knees as you reach into the pack for the next piece of fruit. This time you pull out a grape, and you shoot Rook a grin as you rear back, aiming the fruit over at his direction as he swivels around in preparation. 

♡ This goes on for a few more tosses, and while Vil feels as though he should break up the little exchange, he can’t find it in himself to step in as he watches an orange slice sail across the room in a swift arc and Ace dives from his seat to slide across the floor and catch it, joining in on the fun. The moment he does a roar of triumph rips through the room, and you throw your hands up as you hollar and laugh at the successful shot; only to underestimate how far you’d leaned back and topple right off of your chair. You hit the floor, disappearing from sight, and your friends immediately make a move to check if you’re okay when they hear you laugh, still giggling to yourself by the time your head peeks back up from behind the counter.

♡ You’re disheveled from the fall, hair mussed and collar and tie left askew and loose - had this been usual circumstances, Vil’s first thought would have been to admonish you for letting yourself get into such a unkempt state and he’d have stepped in to correct the slight immediately; instead, his thoughts are trained on your expression, how different it looks from the carefully neutral facade you usually wore. How far that face had come since he’d first met you, now so warm and full of energy, it was as though you were alight with life with each little mark and awry hair only adding to your appearance. You looked...happy, imperfect but somehow...better than beautiful.

♡ Rook’s voice breaks him from entertaining that thought further, clapping his hands together and promptly announcing Vil’s sudden presence to the rest of the party. Vil watches the surprise cross your face, head ducking down so that only your eyes were visible behind the counter as you offer him a timid wave (though the reddening tips of your ears are enough to indicate your embarrassment). He’s swift to stride across the room, rounding the counter to where you’re still kneeling on the floor. You seem shocked when he offers you a hand, and Vil has to ponder just why you’re so shy in his presence as you eye the outstretched hand; you take the offer though, and honestly have to marvel at how soft his hand feels as it holds yours and tugs you up from the floor.

♡ You expect him to move away from you once you’re back onto your feet, but you’re hardly steady again when the hand holding yours moves to your shoulder, balancing you as he gives your disheveled state a once-over. He makes a noise akin to a hum before you feel a hand carding through your hair, smoothing out the otherwise untamable mess with precise fingers and you probably would have flushed under the attention were you not so surprised by the action. Instead of admonishment, Vil finds himself urging you to be careful - potatoes may be sturdy, but he’d rather not have this one getting hurt.

Idia

♡ In all honesty, Idia’s just as introverted, if not more so given his penchant for locking himself away from the world and sticking to the safety of his dorm room at any and all opportunities. So if there’s any chance of you interacting with him, it's either from pure luck, or because you befriended his brother - which given the circumstances, is definitely the latter of the two scenarios. Your shy and reserved personality around others and tendency to clam up in social situations reminds Ortho a lot of Idia, so after his first interaction with you during the Pomfiore auditions he makes an effort to get to know you! It takes you off guard, and Grim butting into the conversation every other minute to ask the boy something arbitrary really doesn’t help with your feelings on the situation; with time, and a little work however, you start opening up a little around him, and with the open and practiced way he approaches you, it isn’t long before the two of you actually become pretty decent friends.

♡ Idia just doesn’t know what to make of you when he hears of your first few meetings relayed directly through Ortho. It’s like you’re some kind of anomaly or glitch that slipped under his radar up until this point in time, and he doesn’t know what trick you’re pulling, but so long as you don’t have any malicious intentions he figures he can tolerate hearing about you. And boy, does he hear it - it’s like you’re involved in just about everything that goes wrong at Night Raven College one way or another, though it seems like it’s through no fault of your own if what he’s seen through the cameras is anything to go by. In a way he almost kind of sympathizes for you, being dragged around every which way by the other dorm heads and students looks exhausting, and you really seem to hate being around all the large crowds that all the school’s events attract. It’s like the only moment of respite you get is with your new flame-haired friend and that talking cat monster, Grim, but Idia doesn’t have much first hand experience when it comes to interacting with you.

♡ The first time you actually meet him face to face, it’s a complete accident. It’s not like he even knew you were going to be coming to the dorm because he hadn’t heard anything about it - it must have been an impromptu invitation, which is really unlike his little brother to do - so imagine his surprise when he rounds a corner and narrowly misses running headfirst into you. He knows what you look like, has seen it through his monitor a few times; hell, you’ve even greeted him through the tablet at dorm leader meetings once or twice when you were close enough to it. But seeing you through a monitor, and seeing you now in the flesh is so jarring that for a hot second he freezes up, looking at you with a baffled expression. You look so different face to face, and he watches you regard him curiously, head cocking to the side as though trying to size him up. It’s only when you give him a confused look and offer a quiet “uhhh,hi?” that Idia realizes what’s going on, and within the next moment he’s gone so fast that you have to double check that he was even there to begin with.

♡ Needless to say, not the best first impression, and Idia’s about ready for the earth to swallow him whole after that incident when you actually go out of your way to approach him the same day. You don’t try to burst into his room or demand him to come out like most of the others, instead you merely knock to announce your presence and mutter out a quiet yet surprisingly serious apology for scaring him back there, mentioning that you hope everything’s okay between you, afterall, you don’t to upset the person that you friend looks up to so much. And then just like that you’re gone, giving him some space as you go off to seek out Ortho.

♡ The friendship between you and Idia is definitely a slowburn, and often has Ortho as the middleman so to speak, being the more outgoing of the three of you when Grim isn’t following you around. Slowly but surely, you open up and start talking to him more, even asking him questions about his games and the kinds of things that he likes to tinker with - it’s a lengthy process, but as Idia spends more time answering your queries he realizes that he’s started to get used to having you around, even kind of looking forward to you coming over.  ♡ Idia recognizes the beginnings of a crush, being able to distinguish that these feelings are different than just friendship, and he gets so worked up about it. A lot of his pining is done from afar, as he’d rather keel over and burn the dorm down before he admits his feelings out loud - he’s always thinking of the worst case scenario with social interactions, and just thinking about all the ways you could possibly reject him is enough to make him feel nauseous, so he sticks to just keeping it to himself and lingering on these feelings safely behind closed doors. He’s sure he can keep it to himself, convinced of it...until he sees what you’re like when you’ve warmed up to someone.

♡ He’d crashed in his bed after staying up way too long grinding for an in-game event, leaving you and his brother to play whatever multiplayer he’d dug up for the two of you to take a crack at; Idia’s the first to admit that sometimes he can sleep like the dead if he’s particularly sleep deprived, so it’s not a surprise that he doesn’t wake up till quite a while later. What wakes him up however is laughter - one voice is Ortho’s, he recognizes it immediately, but the other voice takes him by surprise, and he finds himself peeking his head out from the covers, mindful to keep his hair underneath lest he give away that he’s awake.

♡ Idia finds the two of you giggling to yourselves, with you laughing so hard that there’s tears in your eyes as you clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. Ortho isn’t much better, thoroughly entertained by your laughing and trying to hide his own chuckles as you struggle to recompose yourself - it’s a bizarre scene to watch, and Idia has no idea what’s got you so chuffed until you compose yourself enough to inch back over to your controller. Upon looking at the screen, he sees that you’re still playing that game - there’s a cutscene playing, however it doesn’t take much to realize that the model looks wrong, some kind of bug giving them hilariously static poses that look awkward as the panels switch from scene to scene. There’s a split second where it looks like the bug’s corrected itself, and the laughter dies down into breathy chuckles as you move to click the button prompt. But then all Idia sees is the flash of a stock horse model whizzing across the screen and into the sky and Idia watches you and his brother just about crumple with a wheeze all over again.

♡ He’s never seen you even laugh like that before, much less act so ridiculously silly over something as small as a game glitch, but he’s practically glued to watching your reaction, watching this new, boisterous side of you with a rapt fascination. It’s hard to compose yourself while fighting off the giggles, attempting to imitate some of the bizarre cutscenes as you ramble excitedly about how weird and funny that whole thing was. Ortho also makes an attempt to follow suit, and that starts the pair of you off all over again. Idia would be hard pressed to deny that the sight of you and his brother, grinning without a care as your face flushes from all the yelling, didn’t make him ridiculously happy. If this is what you’re usually like, then does that mean he hasn’t unlocked that with you yet? He’s quick to shake away the thought, instead continuing to watch the scene unfolding in his room - he almost wishes that he could join in on the fun.

♡ Well, it looks like that wish comes true, as Ortho spots his brother out of the corner of his eye and greets him as he excitedly points at the screen, wanting to fill him in on what’s happened while he’s been resting. Your head snaps over to his bed, and he sees the flush on your face turn a deeper shade now for a different reason as you offer a timid greeting of your own, still smiling that bright smile as you apologize for waking him up. At being caught Idia doesn’t know what to say so he reacts without thinking, letting out a choked noise and diving back into his covers so you can’t see his face burning in embarrassment, though the way his hair flares up makes the action futile. 

Malleus

♡ Malleus garners that you’re rather shy when you first cross paths outside of Ramshackle. He’d heard talk about what you were like, as Lilia had taken a particular interest not long after you’d first arrived at the school, having become what one might consider unconventional lunch buddies between breaks. Lilia spoke rather highly of you, though Malleus had yet to place a face to the name until he’d met you on the dorm grounds. He’s no stranger to others shying away from him or being scared in his presence, if anything, it’s the reaction that he expected you to have at the sight of him lingering within the grounds' poorly lit walkways. However, he’s quick to discern that the way you act in his presence isn’t because you’re scared of him, it’s rather just the way you usually act around others. 

♡ This suspicion is confirmed the next time he sees Lilia and brings you up in conversation; at the mention of your name, Lilia’s expression practically brightens up, interested in the young man's apparent newfound interest in you, and doesn’t hesitate to pry into what Mal wants to know. When it comes to your unusually silent demeanor, Lilia’s quick to add that you aren’t always like that - just give it a bit of time for you to warm up to him, and he’s sure that Malleus might well see that there’s more to your personality than what he’s seen. 

♡ Mal’s got no idea what Lilia means, but regardless he still finds himself coming back to Ramshackle - when his usual haunts become occupied he thinks little of finding another secluded location, but this time he finds himself returning. At first, you’d only come outside to check that it's him and not someone out wandering the dorm grounds, but after a handful of meetings, Malleus is intrigued to find you following in stride with him during one of his walks. You don’t give any explanation, nor do you bother with asking any arbitrary questions - which honestly suits Mal just fine - instead, when you cross paths, you just start to walk alongside him for a while. The nighttime strolls have no need for talking if you’re not the speaking sort, and he’s hardly the type to complain about trivial things like that - Malleus is fine simply having the company on what would otherwise be a solitary excursion. 

♡ The longer the two of you spend these nights together, the more he gets tiny flashes of your warmer side. You begin opening up a little more with talking, making small comments about the weather or any upcoming events of note - it’s mundane things, but the small talk is...surprisingly endearing when previously you said nothing more than what you absolutely had to. Perhaps this is what Lilia was on about back then, is what Malleus thinks to himself; either way, it's just another little thing that keeps him coming back. Mal honestly doesn’t see himself having a crush just yet - it’s just that he enjoys the company, and the way you interact with him, shy but unafraid, intrigues him in such a way that keeps him coming back. That’s how he rationalizes it at least.

♡ His first glimpse of your more open personality is by pure chance. Usually at this time of night he would find you wandering somewhere around the Ramshackle grounds, either actively seeking Malleus out or looking for some fresh air to shake off the stress of the morning hours; however when he can’t seem to find you at your usual spots, he resolves to approaching the ramshackle dorm to search for you. Chances are you’re just late or you aren’t interested in accompanying him tonight - either way, he’d rather find that out for himself so he approaches the dorm with little hesitation. All of the lights inside are off barring one, and Malleus finds himself walking around to see if he can make out whatever’s inside, hoping that it’s you.

♡ And he finds you, but the sight he’s greeted with catches him off guard. He can hear the music through the windows, an upbeat melody that Malleus would never quite pin you as a fan of until now. And as he gets closer to the lights he can see you inside the living room, sliding into view. At first, he doesn’t have a clue what you’re doing, moving across the floor in a weird way that’s not unlike shuffling. After a beat though, Malleus soon realizes that you’re dancing, spinning and jumping around the room without a care in the world, belting the words out at the top of your lungs loud enough that he’s sure you’d wake up your dormmates if you had any, though he can hardly make out the lyrics from beyond the glass.

♡ The sight is...oddly mesmerizing, in a way, not because you’re particularly professional, but because of how lively you’re acting. You look so happy, so carefree compared to the shy and silent persona that you usually convey around others - it's a bizarre sight, to say the least, but at the same time it’s a welcome one, and Malleus simply can’t tear his eyes away. He doesn’t know how long you’ve been at it, but it isn’t long before you tire yourself out, whirling around a final time before you finally stumble and topple back onto the floor. You fall so suddenly that Malleus would have moved closer to check that you were okay were it not for your surprised shout filtering off into giggling once you shake off the shock. You’re frazzled, with hair askew and breathing hard, but at the same time you’re visibly giddy, lost in your own little world and grinning like a fool as you run your hands through your hair and rest your head back against the floor.

♡ Malleus has no idea why, but the sight of you smiling, so unburdened by the world outside has him entranced - it’s like you’re practically glowing with energy that he hasn’t seen before, and he’s transfixed to soaking in all the little details, as though wanting to commit this image to memory. He probably would have strayed a moment longer had you not suddenly moved, rolling off of the floor and scrambling onto your feet as you disappear from view, apparently called away by someone - probably Grim - and as the moment’s broken Malleus finally catches himself, cursing himself for getting so distracted.

♡ He ends up completely forgetting what he came over to do, and ends up taking that walk on his own. But he finds his thoughts during that stroll almost completely occupied by the moment, replaying the scene in his mind and thinking back on that vibrant, beaming smile that had lit up your face - the way you looked when you laughed and moved without a care in the world. A part of him is a little sad that you’re not like that when in his presence, but at the same time he finds himself understanding why you keep that side of yourself so closely guarded. Still, that doesn’t stop Malleus from entertaining the idea that sometime in the future he can see that vibrancy face to face, maybe even directed at him - perhaps there’s something he could do to reassure you that you can open up around him...

[styx1an]

A Chat about Chat

A short fic about how Chat came to be a singular being, written by yours truly. By all means, this isn’t canon, it’s just my interpretation of things.

Word count: 1,863

Fandom: RTGame, Miitopia (NGL I’m a little displeased with how I wrote the ending, but oh well!)

You know, there is this odd sense of irony in knowing how terrified Chat was of Magical John when they aren’t even human nor a singular being in the first place. Wait, so you didn’t know? Of how they became such a being in the first place? (They chuckle.) Then I suppose that means I’ll have to tell you their story. Well then, shall we begin the tale of Chat? (You see the twinkle in their eyes. They must’ve been waiting a while to be able to do this.)

> You nod. You’ve been waiting a while to understand Chat’s origins. Tonight, like many others, belongs to the storyteller.

> You shake your head. No thanks, you think you’re too tired. Dawn shall rise anew soon, and you will not waste your time with tall tales.

(They nod, pleased with your decision.) Then I shall begin to relay their tale.

Our tale begins in the vast lands known as Twitch, a domain that belongs to another, a far crueler being whose tale is for another time. It is a place where one is free to express their opinions and whatnot (as long as it suits the many whims of its Amazonian overlords, of course), and many are versed in the easy to learn, but difficult to master art of gaming. Many such masters have gained a large following, and even if they do not possess such skill, more often than not their humor and charisma paves the way to fame.

One example of the latter would be RTGame, a man of sizable repute. Aside from the frankly ridiculous story of the origin of his moniker, he is also known for doing some… questionable things for the sake of entertainment. There are still tales of his quest in the bathtub along with Gilbert (yes, the very same Gilbert on the quest to defeat The Darker Lord Khadgar!), the night of the Painted Wall’s Communion, the birth of Mr. Compost- But my dear, we are here for one of his lesser-known exploits, one that would change the world as we know it.

> You lean closer to the campfire, watching the storyteller with a renewed interest. Where does the tale lead? Where does it end? You need to know.

> It’s getting even later. You think some rest will be needed before tomorrow’s travels begin. Perhaps the rest of the story can wait another time?

It was a dark and stormy night. The then-Dark Lord Von Karma had just been unleashed upon the land, and I Want Die set along the path of salvation with his fellow party members, Mr. Bean the Warrior, Goofy the Thief, and Mint the Horse. He was pleased with the ease with which they vanquished monsters and saved (literal) faces, but the lack of actual conversation within the party had begun to get to him. Mr. Bean had nothing to offer other than a simple “Bean!” every now and then, and Goofy terrified him with all the “hyuck!” and talks of absolving the world’s many sins. Mint is a horse and therefore cannot participate in a verbal conversation unless you happen to understand what her neighs meant. She also happens to be the most normal member of the party, strangely enough.

Either way, I Want Die longed for a proper conversation.

And God took notice.

It was inevitable. The fourth party member was always going to join, whether he wanted one or not. It shouldn’t be notable in any way whatsoever, yet here I am regaling this tale to you.

It is not how Chat had come to join the party that I wanted to explain, but rather how they came to be.

Do you remember the man I had called RTGame? I hope you had not thought of him as irrelevant to our tale, as he is the patron saint of I Want Die’s adventures. Surely you know of the vast armory that belongs to the party? The various delicacies fed to the team? All his work. Along with his followers’ contributions, of course.

Chat was what he called his followers, the ones who watched his various endeavors as he traveled across the land of Twitch. Oftentimes the crowd would conversate with him (hence their name), offering jokes and sardonic commentary whenever he did anything remotely comedic. Other times, RT would have to tell them off for being such a rowdy bunch- the usual group of thousands could never keep quiet for long.

It happened that Chat witnessed I Want Die’s pilgrimage along with RTGame. They all looked upon him with a jolly sense of humor (after all, their master is well-versed in the art of comedy), some wondering where his travels will bring him. The others who knew how it would all end kept silent at the behest of RTGame. Either way, every single one of them was enjoying the show he had put on for them. 

And came the time to summon the fourth member.

As per usual, RTGame withdrew into his workshop, closing the curtains around him so no curious onlooker could see inside. But that did not stop Chat from yelling their predictions and demands.

“EDGEWORTH” one cried.

Another begged for a certain “End Mii!”

“CHAT CALM DOWN!”

“!uptime”

“69420toesucker just subscribed for 5 months!”

“TURG”

RTGame smiled at them. He wasn’t surprised at all at their reactions, rather it was something he had hoped would happen.

“Alright then Chat,” he said, “here they are!”

His pale, thin hands reached out to open the curtains-

And unveiled a faceless, empty husk of a being. 

Under any other circumstances, Chat would’ve rioted, demanded justice against the irony of sending a faceless doll to retrieve the faces of others. But they had no time.

Almost in an instant, the skies darkened. Clouds swirled up above with vibrant shades of violet, cobalt, magenta. Bright blue lightning strikes a tree and dissolves it into dust. Somewhere distant, something roars. The air feels thick- something magical, something electric is positively buzzing. Magic truly is in the air.

And thunder strikes once again. 

The crowd is gone.

Silence fell. All that is left is the master and the doll, no longer an empty husk.

> You look up to the storyteller, their eyes reflecting the blazing flames. You have a feeling that you know how this ends, but you’d rather have them confirm it first.

> You’re sleepy. As tempting as it is to continue listening to their story, you must admit that the very idea of slumber is even more tantalizing.

RTGame had managed to do exactly what he wanted. Chat’s consciousness, placed inside of a single, physical being. A puppet controlled by a hivemind would not be very easy to control, yes. But the idea intrigued him. And wouldn’t it be better than having a large gaggle of people constantly behind him, watching his every move? It could help I Want Die on his journey too.

So it is settled. It happened that one of the members of his temple had just crafted a rather nice puppet, in case RT needed one. And he did come to use it. It does look a little plain, as both body and head are painted in the same shade of bright white. However, the face was not white like how it was in the beginning, but a disturbingly pitch-black space. No, that’s not the right word.

Rather, it was like a void had formed. That’s also not the right phrase to describe it either, as there were drops of ichor dripping down onto the ground, dissolving the once green grass. But I digress. 

Chat broke the silence that had fallen between them, wailing as a cacophony of noises and emotions spilled out. Despite what RT had done to them, they were still determined to voice their opinions. Quite in character, really. 

“RT WHAT”

“NO NO NO”

“!uptime”

“I'M ON TV!!!”

“bazingabanana just gifted 5 subs!”

“that’s kinda meta”

As their voices grew louder, ichor kept pouring out of the void. As expected, RT thought to himself. He still needs to act fast. So with a quick snap, he fastened a wooden mask the temple-goer made; the same shade of white, a pair of beady black eyes almost as dark and soulless as the void, bright purple ears. 

The yelling and complaining didn’t stop of course. Still, as their voices were muffled by the mask, it was an arguably better experience than the previous ear-splitting wails. And it was less deadly too. Ichor had stopped dripping down onto the grass, which meant that the constant sizzling would finally stop.

Now, one last thing.

RT stared into Chat’s eyes.

This in itself wouldn’t have been quite a remarkable action had it been anyone else, but it’s Chat that we are talking about. The very sensation of doing something as simple as gazing into a hivemind’s many souls wasn’t anything ordinary, either.

It felt like you had just plunged one of your hands into ice-cold water in the middle of winter and not only are you freezing, you’re scared and you don’t know whether you’d come out in one piece.

They all stared back. Thousands and thousands looked upon RT, all different yet whispering the same things, each claiming to be an individual yet virtually nothing distinctive belongs to them. A true hivemind. It’s exactly what he wanted, but he wondered if perhaps other troubles would arise.

He let himself go from their gazes. It asks too much of him.

“Alright then, Chat. Ready?”

A gaggle of voices reply, sounding their agreements.

“OK then!”

--

I Want Die finally opened the inn door, after convincing himself that he’d like this new friend. That this one would be neither an anime villain, a comedy star or a horse. Someone with actual rational thoughts and words to speak.

In front of the door stood a short figure, clad in a purple mage’s robes. Their pitch-black eyes looked at I Want Die, and a chorus of voices came from their permanent smile:

“Hi, I’m Chat!”

And I Want Die wondered if he had forgotten to cross off ‘hivemind’ off his list of potential party members.

Chat’s introduction ends here, of course. But not their tale. The journey was far from over in fact. The party had yet to meet the Royal Court, witnessed the court’s love affair, or get kidnapped by the Dark Lord Von Karma. Even the party wasn’t complete, as it was only the first party I Want Die would encounter in his tale of redemption.

And it’s not the only story either. You haven’t heard of Magical John’s past life, or how Cupcake isn’t as pure as she seems. Gilbert’s fear of the kitchen. How Jefferson came to be, and Obama’s past life with Mr. Bean.

But I’m afraid I must stop here, for it is late already, is it not? Our journey must continue tomorrow. Let us rest. Goodnight, may the stars shine for you. (They head off into their tent, leaving you alone with the flickering embers of a dying fire.)

> You bid the storyteller goodnight. Perhaps they’ll tell you another one of their stories, underneath the moonlight once more.

[somebody-909]

Stalkyoo - Black and White Formal Romantic Subtext Analysis

The beginning of I Love Yoo up until the Black and White Formal shows the development of Shin-Ae and Yeong-gi's relationship from strangers to reluctant acquaintances and eventually to friends.

Their relationship's development up until the present comic, in my opinion, reaches a peak during the formal arc, where we see both the completed development of their friendship (neither are reluctant) but we also see the fast emergence of new possible romantic feelings. The arc is pivotal in defining and developing their relationship and we continue to see its effects afterwards. So, in order to better understand the two characters' relationship, let's take a look at the key moments in the arc that explore their friendship and romantic tension.

Ep. 49 | Makeup - A Friendly Face and Romantic Tension

Shin-Ae is forced to attend the black and white formal to take care of her father. She is in an incredibly difficult position, with college exams the next day, her father ill, and now having to deal with this incredibly unfamiliar situation and this horrible dress.

When she sees Yeong-gi however, it’s great to see a comforting and familiar presence. We get a chance to see their friendship in this uncomfortable setting when Yeong-gi shows concern for Shin-Ae.

That is not all, however. The makeup panel (which was removed by Quimchee later on, but is included in the mid-season recap), introduces us to the first instance of genuine romantic tension between the two in the arc (and the whole comic up until here, really).

The two are very close together and look at each other softly. Shin-Ae seems to be blushing, as well. This moment is intimate and romantically tense.

This first scene does a great job at introducing the two major dynamics in their relationship that are explored in this arc: their established friendship and new romantic tension. These dynamics lead up to what occurs on the hospital balcony.

Ep. 49-51 | Hands - Distance and Desires

When Yeong-gi gets up to get Shin-Ae food, she reaches for him and grabs onto his sleeve. This panel introduces Shin-Ae's desire to stick with Yeong-gi throughout the night. We understand how comforting she finds it to be near him.

She extends her hand — showing how she is now also "reaching" for him and his companionship.

In Ep. 50, when Yeong-gi is scolded by his father and leaves to wait outside for Alyssa, Shin-Ae notices he seems down from across the floor. And for the first time, she tries to reach him. Up until now, she has been wary of Yeong-gi and his intentions, but now we see that their relationship has truly progressed to real friends. Shin-ae genuinely cares for Yeong-gi. But before she can reach him, she is interrupted by Sang-chul.

In the next episode, we see Yeong-gi respond to her call, reflecting what Shin-Ae did in Ep. 49, and extending his hand back towards her. Both characters' reciprocal desire to connect with each other is shown through their hands.

This scene, where they reach for each other but don't connect, introduces the arc's recurrent motif/theme of DISTANCE. Shin-ae and Yeong-gi want to connect, as they care for each other and find comfort in one another, but because of the circumstances at the party they are torn apart repeatedly.

And despite (literally and figuratively) reaching for each other, neither their hands nor their good intentions (like Shin-ae’s desire to be there for Yeong-gi) actually do reach each other. This repeats a few times in the arc, causing significant tension; due to the obstacles of the events around them, they can’t reach each other despite how much they may want to. As such, readers also feel relief whenever the two characters do manage to get together.

Ep. 55 | The Dance - A Kousuke and Yeong-gi Parallel

Kousuke, while having good intentions, struggles to understand what Shin-Ae wants, and instead goes for what makes sense to him. Yeong-gi, on the other hand, consistently shows an understanding of what would truly help Shin-Ae.

It is certainly true that Kousuke’s method was pragmatic. If the problem is that Shin-Ae feels humiliated and that he is embarrassed by her, what better way to show that he isn’t than by dancing with her in front of everyone? It’s a well-meant gesture that would show that he cares more for her than what others think and regardless of what they think. However, although his intentions were sweet, the outcomes were less so.

Shin-Ae DOES NOT want to dance. A scene that may have been beautiful, is tainted by Shin-Ae's true feelings of discomfort.

The truth is, Shin-Ae doesn’t want to go back in front of them. She doesn’t want to prove something to them. She doesn’t want to dance. But she feels like she has to. She can’t say no. The dance is actually… sad to see. She doesn’t want to be there.

But as she dances and feels terrible, Yeong-gi shows up. She is immediately excited and put at ease but is also worried about him since she hasn't seen him since he left to go outside.

But then Yeong-gi acts a goof. He understands that Shin-Ae doesn’t want to be there, but she has to. Because he understands the feeling of putting on a performance, despite being miserable… he immediately recognizes Shin-Ae's going through that too. So being the lovely friend he is, Yeong-gi goofs around. What better way to make Shin-Ae feel less tense in this too formal environment by reminding her of a friendly presence and doing something hilariously inappropriate? And of course, he knows how to help alleviate some of her discomfort, because they’re friends, after all, right? Yeong-gi shows a deep level of empathy for Shin-Ae.

The scene also develops a contrast between Kousuke and Yeong-gi — and the differences in how they affect Shin-Ae — that is paralleled many times later in the series.

Yeong-gi is the one who gets Shin-Ae to smile. He's the one who turns this scene from something uncomfortable to wholesome. And yet, he's not the one dancing with her. He stays to the side, in the shadows of the crowd, with distance between him and Shin-Ae, and with his head down. It fits his overarching character arc — staying hidden and away, and unable to chase for what he wants because of a quiet sense of shame and low self-worth.

The significance of him not interrupting and staying off to the side is purposefully emphasized in Ep. 57, when Kousuke says:

"I'm surprised you didn't interrupt my dance with Ms. Yoo."

Yeong-gi doesn't respond and simply looks away and slightly frowns. This emphasizes that there is a reason Yeong-gi stays away, and it's likely because his low self-esteem issues cause him to think, "Who am I to interfere?"

Overall, this dance panel achieves a similar effect to the earlier scene when their hands reach for each other, adding to the tension caused by distance — it feels like Shin-Ae and Yeong-gi should be together, but because of the circumstances, they can’t. They are reaching for each other, emotionally, but just can’t close the gap.

Ep. 55 | “We’re (just) friends... right?” - More Romantic Build-up

Although Yeong-gi knew exactly how to cheer up Shin-Ae, what he didn’t expect was her laugh… or rather the way he feels when she does.

Look at Yeong-gi’s expression — his eyes are widened. He has a look of awe and he seems shocked. He felt something unexpected. Maybe his heart skipped a beat... Could it be possible…?

He also has a resigned smile after, choosing to look at their dance from afar.

After the dance, Yeong-gi asks Shin-Ae to confirm their friendship.

But the panel and his tense smile seems… eerie. Faked. Like Yeong-gi might not be asking this question for obvious reasons. Even Shin-Ae notes that he seems uneasy, with a confused look and a nervous sweat drop.

We’ve already seen their completely established friendship. But as soon the two explicitly acknowledge this out-loud, we seem to have something new to deal with. Why does Yeong-gi suddenly want confirmation of their friendship, and in a manner that seems quite… sad? Why does his smile seem faked? We can look just a few panels prior to have a better understanding of what’s occurring internally for Yeong-gi.

Yeong-gi's shocked expression and widened eyes are similar to other moments of romantic tension, namely the hospital balcony scene and the earphones scene (albeit in a more muted manner). This is the second moment in this arc after the makeup scene that adds to the romantic tension leading up to the hospital balcony scene.

I believe Yeong-gi seems sad when he asks, “We’re friends right?” because when Shin-Ae laughs, he subconsciously feels the pangs of possible budding romantic feelings (it isn’t quite there yet, it is slight, but he is feeling something new) and he immediately subconsciously tries to deny those feelings by having Shin-Ae assert their friendship.

He feels dissonance between two facts:

“Shin-Ae is my friend”

“I felt something when she laughed”

This dissonance is uncomfortable, so he seeks to deny what is implied by the second part (that he may feel more for her). Additionally, we understand Yeong-gi struggles with self-worth. With the added pressure of those around him, as well as Shin-ae who has consistently accused him of being too pushy and a player, it is no struggle to understand why he immediately tries to avoid this feeling at even the first slightest hint of it.

But by looking for an affirmation of friendship to refute what he felt when she laughed, he unwittingly makes a link between what he felt to something beyond friendship.

Ep. 57-8 | The Bar - Brief Respite and a Kousuke/Yeong-gi Parallel

Due to the aforementioned tension, moments like the bar where Yeong-gi and Shin-ae are able to interact and joke around (about boobs in this case) feel incredibly refreshing — everything else is uncomfortable, but being with each other is comforting.

Once the others join them, we also get another slight Kousuke and Yeong-gi parallel. When Alyssa mentions Yeong-gi could dance with Shin-Ae, Yeong-gi refuses, likely due to pressure from Kousuke to be faithful to Alyssa. (We don’t quite know what he would’ve said otherwise). Shin-Ae responds to him refusing the dance, thinking:

“It would’ve been awkward anyways like my dance with Kousuke.”

The phrase "it would've been [negative adjective] anyways" usually implies a sense of settling for an outcome and sometimes slight displeasure.

I will admit that is hard to firmly state she’s disappointed that he said no. But the phase most certainly implies that she would’ve gone along with it if he said yes. (If this is hard to understand, Shin-Ae doesn’t think something like, “Good. I didn’t want to dance anyways.”) Her thought is relatively indifferent, especially in contrast to Kousuke whom she explicitly didn’t want to dance with.

Ep. 61 | Yeong-gi Takes a Stand - Relationship-driven Growth

When Yeong-gi learns that Shin-Ae is in trouble, but is yelled at by his father for his behaviour and not being with Alyssa, he is absolutely terrified at first (poor boy).

Randulph: "What are you doing? Fooling around again? It hasn't even been that long since I last reprimanded you!"

*Yeong-gi flinches*

Randulph: "How many times am I going to have to scold you tonight??? How hard is that head of of yours that nothing I say gets through to you! And Alyssa isn't even with you!"

Yeong-gi: *meekly* "Well — my friend was —"

Randulph: "I'm not through talking!

*Yeong-gi flinches*

Randulph continues scolding him, then says, "Forget about your friends."

To which Yeong-gi replies, "No... Castigate me, humiliate me. Do that all you want after I've ensured her safety!"

Upon thinking about the possible danger Shin-Ae is in, we see him, for the first time, advocate for himself and stand up to his father. Yeong-gi's concern for Shin-Ae allows him to stand up to the man who terrifies him. Shin-Ae takes easy precedent over the politics of his family and it shows how far their relationship has come and how it drives Yeong-gi's growth.

Ep. 62-3 | Sang-chul — Anger on behalf of Shin-Ae & a Shin-Ae and Alyssa Comparison

When Yeong-gi sees Sang-chul with Shin-Ae's jacket, he confronts him.

Sang-chul: "Back off bro. I don't want to start any trouble here."

Yeong-gi: "Too late for it now, innit? You asked for trouble as soon as you tried to take advantage of Shin-Ae."

Yeong-gi gets personally angry on behalf of Shin-Ae. It's another example that emphasizes their friendship.

We also see a contrast developed between Shin-Ae and Alyssa by Sang-chul:

"What is this Shin-Ae person to you anyway? You didn't react this way when I mentioned kissing your girlfriend... Where is she anyway? I still need my selfie and my kiss since you're fine with it."

Sang-chul assumes Yeong-gi must be romantically and sexually involved with Shin-Ae partly because he's a disgusting, sexist dirtbag, but also because, frankly, Yeong-gi seems to just generally like Shin-Ae more than his actual girlfriend.

I also want to draw attention to the fact that Sang-chul has mentioned kissing Alyssa three times: once before when they first met, and twice now. All three times, Yeong-gi didn't react.

In Ep. 63, Yeong-gi begins to move away from Sang-chul to get to Shin-Ae.

Sang-chul: "Heh. That's right. Wuss. Go run to your b*tch."

*Yeong-gi stops*

Sang-chul: "I'll go keep Alyssa company while you're at it! I still haven't gotten my kiss! Should be easy. She must be dumb as hell if she's dating you."

*Yeong-gi turns around, glares at him, kisses him, then punches him* "There's your damn kiss, you gobshite!"

Yeong-gi: "Don't you dare call Shin-Ae a b*tch ever again. And stay away from Alyssa."

Why is it, that now, he suddenly becomes agitated after already ignoring three taunts by Sang-chul to kiss Alyssa? Especially when he was in the middle of getting to Shin-Ae? I'm going to argue that Yeong-gi actually decides to punch him as soon as he first stops after Sang-chul insults Shin-Ae. Additionally, after the punch, Yeong-gi's first demand is to never insult Shin-Ae again, placing emphasis on this. It is also said more forcefully then the second: "Don't you dare... ever again" vs "And stay away". Alyssa is added almost like an afterthought.

There is a purposeful comparison here between the way Yeong-gi treats the disrespect towards the two women. Yeong-gi immediately gets angry enough to get violent when Sang-chul insults Shin-Ae, but barely responds at first when he calls Alyssa dumb and threatens to kiss her. He cares more for Shin-Ae than he does for his romantic partner, Alyssa.

Naturally, since the comparison is between his girlfriend and Shin-Ae, it also paints his feelings for Shin-Ae in a romantic light.

Ep. 63 | Yeong-gi Saves Shin-Ae

When Shin-Ae falls in the pool, it is Yeong-gi who saves her. Kousuke does not. This is another narrative parallel meant to contrast the two's relation to Shin-Ae. They both fall into the pool (parallel) but Yeong-gi, not Kousuke, saves Shin-Ae (contrast).

The episode also focuses almost solely on Yeong-gi's response to Shin-Ae's injury. He is absolutely terrified and feels terrible guilt, thinking he did this to her. But he is the one who saved her. He is the one shown to panic, yell for her, and scream for help. (We can also get into the authorial choice to focus on Yeong-gi's reaction and not Kousuke's... At the very least, it emphasizes that this moment is especially significant for Shin-Ae and Yeong-gi.)

Conclusions

The black and white formal arc serves as a climax for development between Shin-Ae and Yeong-gi — we see how in the face of adversity, the two value each other deeply as friends, and are given romantically tense moments.

There are also multiple narrative parallels, where Kousuke and Yeong-gi are put in similar situations, but the way they impact Shin-Ae are contrasted. Despite having multiple moments with Kousuke, Yeong-gi is who impacts her positively and who she wants to spend time with. This is continued in the hospital finale, when despite literally “reaching” Kousuke (he is with her and holds her hands), it is only after chasing Yeong-gi and being with him that she finds cathartic emotional support and finally cries. (Although these parallels jab at YooTip, I want to focus more on how it emphasizes that Shin-Ae and Yeong-gi's bond is beyond that she has with another person she has known for the same amount of time. It shows the difference between the more basic-level bond she has with Kousuke, vs. her bond with Yeong-gi that is surprisingly strong for people who have only known each other for a few weeks.)

Overall, this arc builds a base for when Yeong-gi first feels true romantic feelings for Shin-Ae: when she holds onto him and cries on the hospital balcony (you can see that analysis here). In this scene at the end of this arc, the two who so desperately tried to connect during the gala, finally do (although their hands still do not touch).

[bookquotes-20]

Crashing

Fandom: Folk of the Air

Ship: Jurdan

Rating: T

Fluffy Angst

Little had changed since Jude’s ascension to the throne. As when she was Seneschal, she coordinated the kingdom’s affairs with unparalleled grace and tenacity.

Perhaps the greatest difference was the respect and admiration that shone in the eyes of her subjects and colleagues. Some entertained the sentiment freely while others offered their appreciation with reluctance, but even those that loathed to admit it, could not deny that their Queen was remarkable.

Oh, and of course, the revels.

As Seneschal, Jude could still make up excuses of work to avoid attending the unending festivities that were often separated by little free time. Cardan was never far from “a party mood,” as it was called in the human world. And when she was considered a mere accessory to the crown, she had no direct obligation to attend each meaningless celebration.

Now that she wore said crown, the lavish parties were considerably more difficult to avoid.

Jude still did not attend them all, nor did she attend them in their entirety. She would, though, make an appearance alongside her husband at the beginning and end of each.

It was a thrill like no other, walking to the dais boasting their thrones, her hand firmly in his, both draped in finery.

He would brush a kiss across her knuckles each time before they took their place together, and his voice would boom across the hall to begin the merriment.

For years, Jude had watched Cardan’s lithe form adorned in lush garments and glittering powders as he maneuvered through galas and feasts and festivities. And yet still, he managed to take her breath away each time.

First with his otherworldly beauty, for their was no other way to describe it. She hesitated to call it Fae beauty because he truly surpassed all the Fae she had seen. The slant of his high cheekbones accentuated by the faint shimmer of gold. The sensuously dark eyes rimmed with kohl that only served to increase their depth, through the contrast they provided against the white around his irises. When a sheen of intoxication covered them, they glimmered like the night sky. The wine he indulged in throughout only served to darken his sinful mouth, accentuating his lips against his pale skin. Unfortunately, Jude was acutely aware that she is not the only one who has noticed Cardan’s painful beauty.

Beyond this carefully crafted beauty, though, through this new lens placed upon their lives, Jude saw something else that set her stomach aflutter in ways she could not hope to explain. Her disinterest with the merriment gave her the opportunity to watch her husband with rapt interest. Observe in ways she had not let herself indulge before.

She watched Cardan charm their guests and dignitaries, smiling wide and tipping his head back in laughter at their stories. His lighthearted demeanor and mischief coaxed grins from even the most stubborn of their guests. Enough so that they’d miss the coy turn to his lips, the sly gleam in his eyes that indicated he was there for more than celebration and mirth. He would masterfully put all around him a perfect ease and walk away having gleaned whatever political advantage he sought. Every. Time.

It fascinated Jude to no end. Her husband was cunning. And no one was the wiser. 

The thought enticed a chuckle from her chest.

The sound seemed to catch Cardan’s attention. He turned his head toward her and gave a small smile as he started up the dais to her.

“Would you grace me with a dance, my queen,” he said, eyes shining. She smiled and took his outstretched hand.

His gaze never wavered from hers. Not when he maneuvered them through the crowds to the center of the room. Certainly not when he placed her hands on his shoulders and his own firmly on her waist. Absolutely not when his fingers pressed with careful deliberation against the small of her back to arch her towards him.

“You’ve danced with quite a many people tonight, my king.” Her voice was mostly teasing. Although, a seasoned ear — and his was most definitely seasoned when it came to Jude — would swear there was the faintest undertone of jealousy. Cardan’s lips twitched into a smile.

“I have only wanted a dance with one person all night, and I have her in my arms.” Jude rolled her eyes in attempted annoyance, but the barest pink on her cheek betrayed all.

He raised their joined hands to twirl her. If he deliberate cut the spin short so she would fall against his chest, neither of them mentioned it.  The longer they danced, the more the world around them faded away. As it often did when they were together. 

The King and Queen had a way of losing themselves in each other. The time, the location, the circumstance was of little import. The ever burning spark between them would flare into a wildfire that burned all else out of their consciousness.

Flint and tinder indeed.

That’s why both startled when a loud cough beside them brought them out of their reveries. Jude nearly jumped backward, she truly would have were it not for Cardan’s firm grasp on her. They turned to see The Bomb waiting with an amused smile.

“Pardon the intrusion, lovebirds — I mean Your Highnesses,” she corrected with a giggle. “If I may borrow the Queen for a moment?”

Cardan threw The Bomb an annoyed glance, as if to say Really? but it only served to fuel her laughter. Jude squeezed his hand apologetically before starting to pull away. He held on to her till the last second, reluctant to let go, desperate to maintain the physical connection between them.

“I’ll see you in our chambers,” Jude whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before The Bomb pulled her away.

The Roach and The Ghost are waiting for them in the shadows of the exit arch. The Roach glances behind the two, suppressing a laugh at their High King who looks downright forlorn at the loss of his queen. What is the expression the mortals use? Whipped?

“What’s wrong?” Jude asked as they approached the spies. “Is there immediate danger?”

“No immediate danger,” The Roach reassured, “A messenger just arrived from the Court of Teeth with a letter. Nothing too serious but it does require a prompt response. They would like to meet with you and the Cardan in one week’s time regarding expanding and fortifying trade routes between the Court and Elfhame. Since it is a four day journey, we thought it best that we send the messenger with a response immediately to avoid rushed panic.”

Jude nodded, “That would be wise. Take me to him.”

In nearly an hour, she had received the message, formulated the perfect response, sent the messenger on his way, and planned the critical details of the summit. The Roach shook his head in amazement, a small smile curled The Ghosts lips, and The Bomb just looked on in respect and adoration. Their Queen was frustratingly talented. When it came to everything except her own safety that is. Her lack of self-preservation was a source of anxiety for them all.

“Would you like an escort back to the revel?” The Ghost asked softly. Jude smiled and shook her head.

“No, thank you, I think I’ll retire for the night. Enjoy your evening.”

They nodded and bid her good night as she started towards the royal chambers.

A deep breath left Jude’s chest as she closed the doors behind her. Her hands rose to her temples, fingers massaging the skin softly.

A brief moment passed until she felt a pair of arms encircle her waist. She didn’t hesitate to melt into her husband’s embrace, allowing his body hold up her own. Her hands covered his as he placed a soft kiss to the skin of her shoulder. Jude found herself thanking Tatterfell for choosing a sleeveless gown for the evening, held up by an intricately embroidered chord of fabric wrapping around her neck.

She tilted her head to look up at him. “You returned from the revel quite early.” Her brow furrowed and she scanned his face for signs of exhaustion. “Are you tired?” He shook his head. 

“My heart was elsewhere.”

The phrase was simple, but the weight of his gaze made it anything but. The corners of Jude’s eyes softened.

“I believe I still owe you a dance, my king.”

Cardan’s eyes brightened. “I believe you do,” he took her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles, “my queen.”

She turned in his arms to face him. His arm didn’t move from her waist, simply shifted to better accommodate her.

“Music?”

Cardan smiled and pulled her in closer. His cheek brushed Jude’s and his lips moved to her ear. He began to sing softly.

Jude’s eyes widened in amazement. His voice.

It was unlike anything she had heard before. Deep yet soft, like waves of velvet washing over her. Something in her body thrummed at the sound.

Resonance, was the term that came to mind. It was as if his voice was a frequency her very soul was tuned to. A sound made just for her.

Her forehead fell forward to rest on Cardan’s shoulder. She heard the smile in his voice as he swayed their joined form gently around their chambers. Jude felt the music vibrate through his body against her own.

“You have a beautiful voice,” she whispered against his shoulder. 

“Thank you, my love.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“What song is it?”

“It’s an old Fae ballad, a tale of two lovers whose very natures pitted them against one another.” Cardan spoke low in her ear. Even in the privacy of their chambers, it seemed as though he was hiding the words from the rest of the world, speaking only to her heart. “Just as the lovers constantly fought with each other, their hearts fought them. Their souls were made for one another, yearning to be united. Despite the world of circumstances separating them.”

There was a heavy silence. “I thought of it often in your absence,” he admitted.

Which one? Jude wanted to ask. During her exile? When she was taken by the Undersea? She pulled back to search his eyes. Or perhaps, even in their childhood? When they claimed to feel nothing but hatred for each other.

She rose on her toes to press her lips to his. A silent thank you for his trust, his admission. He kissed her back with more fervor than she expected. Jude braced a hand against his neck, fingers creeping into his dark curls just briefly while his lips moved against hers. Cardan pulled back slightly, breaths coming heavy as he rested his forehead against hers. His brows were furrowed, lines of tension contouring his face. Like he was reliving the pain of losing her all over again. Her fingers traced his face, smoothing the lines away.

“Every time I saw you, there was a fire that lit my veins,” she says into the space between them. “As you said, I always thought it was hatred.” Jude paused. “But I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why that fire burned so much brighter when I saw another girl in your arms.” His eyes snapped open at that, lips parting in slight awe. The corners of Jude’s mouth twitched. Success, she thought as she saw the pain slowly melt off his face as mirth creeped in.

“My queen,” Cardan began, his eyes sparked anew, “were you perhaps, jealous?”

“Were might not be the right term, are is more appropriate.” Jude scowled slightly. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck absentmindedly. “I still don’t like all the women that try to weasel themselves closer to you, with no regard for your wife’s presence.” She felt a tremor run up his spine at the word. Wife.

Jude paused, hesitating before reminding herself of Cardan’s admission to her. One piece at a time.

“They’re all quite beautiful too,” she muttered under her breath, averting her eyes.

Cardan looked at her as if he didn’t quite hear her correctly.

“My love, you can’t possibly be insecure about your appearance?”

“I mean, I’m not blessed with their Fae beauty or anything.” Truth be told, Jude had never cared about her appearance in front of the Folk. Her battle physique and training were most important to her, they still are. But she would be lying if she said she didn’t occasionally reflect on the differences between her and the beauty of the women that threw themselves at Cardan.

“Jude, look at me please, love.”

When she did, her breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze. “I understand insecurities are normal, everyone has them. Gods know I have more than most. But you have absolutely nothing to concern yourself with.” His hand tightened on her waist, pulling her closer. “You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. No one else has the power to take my breath away with a single look. To make my heart race with a single touch. To undo me with a single kiss. You have ruled my heart, my mind, my very soul long before any of those women you speak of.”

Jude’s breath froze in her lungs. She knew Cardan loves her. He knew she loves him. They had whispered the words against each other’s lips and skin in dark nights of their chambers, spoken them through their eyes when their gazes locked across the throne room, laughed them to the wind as they danced in the royal gardens (at Cardan’s request). Yet the raw emotion in his words right then, the surety in his voice, nearly cut her open. She wanted to return the sentiment, to tell him what he means to her, but the words froze in her throat. A flash of hatred coursed through Jude at that. Hatred directed at no one but herself. For still freezing when it comes to laying her heart bare before him, the one person she trusts. The one person who deserved her vulnerability. Instead, like a coward, she caught onto his earlier words. 

Jude snorted. “Please, you don’t know what the word insecurity means when it comes to looks.” She poked at his high cheekbones jokingly, before tracing her finger down his sharp jaw. “You’ve never looked less than perfect a day in your life.”

Cardan’s hand rose to cover hers. His gaze pinned her in place. “And yet when I saw true contempt in your eyes, the day you returned to Elfhame, I felt uglier than I ever have in all my days.” He flashed back to the hate she directed at him. It felt like a steel net, weighing him down, closing his airways. He could hardly breathe under the weight. 

She brushed her thumb over his cheek.

Tears in his eyes were the last straw. Jude searched his face, her thoughts racing. No more, she decided. No more hiding. Cardan deserves better. He deserves more. He deserves vulnerability and to be loved freely. He deserves no more armor. Jude steeled her heart and something shifted in her eyes.

“It’s interesting that you saw contempt,” she murmured. “Considering I couldn’t bring myself to be angry with you the way I wished to.” Cardan’s eyes widened in surprise. The corner of her lips twitched. “Unfortunately, hating you has never been easy.” Jude stroked his cheek again. “There are days I question whether I could truly manage it at all.”

There’s a lightness in her eyes he’s unaccustomed to. No. Not a lightness, but rather the absence of weight. Jude does not often voice her feelings, but when she does, there is hesitance. Fear and reluctance swirl in her heart and heavy her tongue. The words she normally would have had to force out, flow today from her lips as naturally as water. Her lips ticked upwards, settling into the ghost of a smile.

Her arm wound tighter around his neck, decreasing the distance between them, while her other hand remained pressed between his hand and his cheek. His own arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer still. Her mouth rose to his, just a hairsbreadth from touching it.

“Did you ever truly hate me,” she whispered.

“I believed I did.” Cardan’s gaze never wavered from hers. “I convinced myself the intense emotion that clouded my every thought was hate, because it seemed like the only acceptable answer. I tried to nurture those thoughts further towards darkness and hatred. At least that I understood.” His temple pressed against hers and a breathy chuckle escaped his chest. “What a fool I was.”

Jude paused a moment before asking another question.

“Can you tell when I lie?”

Startled again, Cardan thought. He contemplated his answer. “I believe so.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t think I can put it into words,” he said. “Truthfully, I don’t think I myself understand how I know. Perhaps it is a product of watching you with such scrutiny all these years. There are parts of you I find myself so attuned to that it surprises me. Very little of myself is conscious when it comes to you, my sweet nemesis.” His thumb brushed back and forth over the skin exposed by a cut of her gown at the waist. The ministration in conjunction with his smooth voice is mesmerizing. She finds herself losing awareness of everything but him. “Your eyes usually give me my answer. As you speak, whenever I look in your eyes,” he moves her hand from his cheek to his heart. “something in here just knows whether you are telling the truth.”

She locked her gaze with his now.

“I love you.”

His breath froze in his throat. And he knew, something deep in his heart knew, that it’s true. He returned her honesty with a kiss. Whispering his greatest secret against her lips.

“I love you, my dearest Jude.”

[levicanpunchme]

Levi X Y/N

Genre: Romance/Fluff/Modern AU

Warning: sexual references

Summary: You attend a business party with your boyfriend, Levi in hopes of introducing yourself but things turn hazy when a blonde idiot keeps staring at you. Levi’s burning anguish strikes.

Mine

The large dining hall was illuminated with yellow candles, creating a sophisticated atmosphere for the various honourable guests. The darkness of the hall suffocated you, making you clench onto your purse tighter. These high society parties were not your cup of tea; they made you uncomfortable. If you could, you’d never again breathe next to these oblivious, high nosed women who flaunted their lavished lifestyle which their husbands had earned after dirty business work. What was there to be so proud of-? You wondered. When they spoke to you, you heard the discreet arrogance in their tone and it made you want to scream.

You desperately avoided these events; however, this time, you wanted to formerly introduce yourself-after all your boyfriend was a well established businessman. He was required to attend such parties and ever since he told you about the women throwing themselves at him, you couldn’t help jump into an elegant dress and rush to join his side.

Your lips touching the rim of your glass paused when you caught sight of your raven haired boyfriend in a black suit, wearing a blank expression on his face as a domineering aura surrounded him. This was the first time you had asked to join him in such an event and you were kind-of-glad you did. He looked awfully attractive, his eyes forecasting a shadowy glow in the darkness of the hall. He was the centre of attention; not just because of his godly appearance but also his reputable character.

Levi Ackerman was the sole owner of X company, a name in the higher ups of the world’s largest food industry. His work ethics were widely praised all over the country and every businessman was desperate to earn an opportunity to work with him. His work ethics were a reflection of his character. He had started at the bottom of the chain and earned his way up, struggle after struggle.

You were so proud to call him yours.

“My husband wanted to donate to the local NGO and I was personally against it because we already do so much. We take part in various charitable events after all.” - for publicity, a voice completed in your head. You smiled to yourself at the hypocrisy of the rich brats.

You rolled your eyes, looking back at your boyfriend on the other table and you noticed he was already staring at you. His eyes carefully read your expression. He immediately realised your discomfort and rose from his seat, taking wide strides towards you. Your eyes widened when he grabbed your hand and tugged at you to stand up with him. The five ladies on the table quickly shut up as they softly greeted Levi, their voices growing coy and shy. They sounded so sweet as if they weren’t already married; it made you want to puke.

As Levi clasped his arm around your waist, he silently nodded at the ladies not even sparing them a glance as he walked away with you back to his table. You almost smirked back at the women but restrained yourself, knowing you couldn’t afford to trample over Levi’s reputation by falling into a childish girly scuffle.

“You have to pay me when we get home for saving your ass back there,” he softly whispered against your frame, causing goosebumps to awaken on your skin. You glanced at him and laughed at the dark glaze in his eyes.

“I didn’t need any saving,” you replied back, your challenging gaze daring him to say otherwise. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a soft smile on his lips and then whispered back. “We’ll see about that at home.”

Your stomach flipped.

Levi casually pulled you with him to his table and sat you down next to him. You stared, wide eyed. He was currently sitting around huge business tycoons, discussing future arrangements. You noticed the blonde man sitting opposite to Levi and froze up. He was the man Levi was bidding on for future collaborations as he was the second largest producer in food industry in the world.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/n L/n.” You didn’t realise when he introduced you and quickly sat up, smiling at the men as you greeted them.

“Oh, how wonderful! They say behind every successful man stands a woman,” one of the older men stated and Levi nodded firmly. “Indeed.” And you looked at Levi explicitly.

You felt a wave of emotions course through you and suddenly you wanted to kiss him. Levi was so hardworking. He had struggled for every opportunity in his career and deserved every ounce of the success he currently had. You wanted to throw away everything to make him happy.

“How beautiful,” you gazed away from your boyfriend to the origins of the voice and sat frigid. The blonde, thin-lipped man was staring at you with a strange glint in his eyes, a smirk uplifting his lips as he eyed you up and down.

“Are you currently studying?” the blonde man slurred, his British accent becoming more apparent now. You felt chills run down your spine as you noticed his eyes wander to your cleavage and it made you feel icky. You knew his intentions were dirty but it didn’t matter. You wouldn’t see him ever again after today. You never wanted anyone to stare at you like that. It made your insides crawl. It made you feel insignificant, demoralised and inferior.

You gulped and smiled indifferently. “Journalism,” you answered and looked away quickly. You noticed Levi’s hand clench tightly under the table and panic rippled in your chest. You quickly grabbed his hand, fear racking your head. Levi would singlehandedly destroy anyone who looked at you with nasty intentions and you knew that. You were a witness to it once when you were drunk after a university gathering and a man tried to take you home. Levi had stalked down the street and knocked the man’s front tooth out before safely taking you back to his place.

He was so full of anguish that he almost got the man kicked out of uni. Fortunately, you managed to stop him before things escalated.

“Levi,” you muttered, your mind going blank as you noticed the awakening demon in his eyes; his darkening predatory stare trained at the man, his mouth tightly shut and jaw clenched. You suddenly wanted to evaporate. You tried to appease him as you stroked his large hand, your soft skin gliding against his callous one. He reacted by gripping your hand tightly, holding it. He still didn’t spare you a glance and kept his drilling gaze trained at the man in front.

“Journalism? So you’re one of the smart ones.” His eyes were hazy and tone lousy due to heavy alcohol consumption. His eyes again feasted at your exposed skin and you shrunk into your chair, your heart clashing against your chest. You noticed the dead silence pinning the table as everyone felt the thick tension from Levi’s disgusted stare. Your hold on Levi’s hand grew tighter, forcing him to look at you.

“I’m fine, don’t do anything rash,” you whispered but it seemed like your plea went through him, unheard.

You realised that if the man said anything more, Levi would definitely charge at him. You had to get out of here before it was too late.

“Excuse me, I’m heading to the washroom,” you muttered and gave Levi’s hand another comforting squeeze before standing to leave. You didn’t look back as you hurried to the washrooms. You planned on spending the rest of the night in the lavatory since the party was just awfully disappointing.

You wanted to stand beside Levi but not under the current circumstances. The blonde smug idiot was the most influential in the field and you wanted to do nothing to sabotage your boyfriend’s future goals.

You locked yourself in one of the stalls and sat down annoyedly. It was supposed to be a fun night out with your boyfriend. You didn’t know a rich party full of influential businessmen was just a pathetic havoc wreaking battlefield. You mentally promised to never ask Levi to take you to another event. You annoyedly massaged your forehead in slow circles, hoping to ease the ache.

“Excuse me,” you heard a shrill voice call out as someone knocked from outside. You sat up alarmed.

“Yes?” You replied unsurely.

“I think your boyfriend is outside the washroom waiting for you.” You stood up, your eyes zeroing as you whipped the door open. A brunette haired woman stood before you. “You’re Levi Ackerman’s girlfriend, right? He asked me to check inside for you,” she told you, giggling and then stepped to the sink, resuming back to washing her hands.

You rushed for the door and abruptly pulled it open, stepping outside. As expected, Levi was stationed against the wall, his eyes already tracing yours, needy and impatient. He stepped towards you and pulled you close to him, his fingers grazing your exposed neckline and you heard him breath you in.

“We’re going home,” he whispered into your neck. You nodded hesitantly as he held your hand tightly and marched out to the hall. You almost gasped- as everyone was staring at you both, thick tension brewing in the air. It seemed like you were under spotlight. Levi’s gaze was unaffectedly cold as he stayed upright. Standing beside him was a privilege since Levi had a significant presence to mobilise the crowd to stop and stare.

But this was different. Everyone was whispering and murmuring among themselves as they stared at you horrified. You wondered what had happened for everyone to be so silent and meek around him. Your gaze fearfully swayed to the table where the blonde man had been and you were shell shocked when you noticed a heavy purple bruise under his eye. Your body grew cold as you looked at Levi shocked. He noticed your questioning gaze but only responded by pulling you closer to him.

When you both were out the premises, inside the car park, you pulled at his hold. “Levi, how could you attack a powerful businessman! Have you gone mad?” You gasped, finding it hard to comprehend. He didn’t answer you and kept his moderate pace towards the car.

“Levi, I’m talking to you!” You shrieked, your eyes growing large with anger. He finally halted in his tracks and turned towards you, his eyes burning with seething anger, his fists still clenched, a bluish bruise starting to form on his right fist.

“We need to get out of here before I do something worse,” he spat, his aggressive voice making your throat dry. You felt the frustration building in your chest and your eyes burned with tears.

“You’ve ruined a great opportunity! Do you think he’ll let this go? He won’t-!” You yelled, your head pounding as you felt desperate enough to cry out. “Levi, you’ve worked so hard for this,” you cried, your heart aching.

He was adamant on establishing himself. Never losing sight of his goals, he spent a year working on his startup. He earned investments after tirelessly sacrificing sleep and lunch, date nights and family dinners. You loved him so much, so much that you were always supportive. His absence made you so lonely yet you never complained; there were nights you wanted him to hold you, days you wanted him to listen to your grieving heart, but it was best to not bother him. You internally ached and slowly the ache started to disappear when he came back. After successfully earning a huge investment, everything changed. It was like his pot of love for you flooded and spilled everywhere, unable to be contained. He stopped working excessively. He became so clingy, so needy for your presence, it drove you insane- in a good way.

“Y/n, why’re you crying?” His stern voice caused your body to shrink, goosebumps awakening on your skin. His eyes were so thunderously dark, waves of anger rippling in his frame.

“Because!” You croaked, you sounded awfully hurt. “How could you ruin chances of growing this? After you’ve worked so hard for it!” You shouted, your face angry red with tears spilling out. You were so angry and frustrated that you wanted to physically beat someone.

Levi’s chest was heaving as he stared at you, his face pinning you down, holding you captive. “You care about my fucking business right now?” He sounded hurt as well, his raspy voice so quiet, you could tell he was boiling.

“Yes!” You cried. “You’ve wanted this so bad. After this deal, you would’ve been unbeatable Levi!” You threw your hands in despair, the frown on your face deepening. Levi’s body shook as he stepped closer and before you could register it, he had grabbed your wrist and slammed you to the car, his arms immediately protecting your anterior from pain. A loud clash was heard as he pinned you beneath him, his breathing heavy, his eyes glazed.

“I’ve worked so hard, day after day so you can stand next to me without shame. You deserve someone strong and I was so pathetic back then,” he stated, his eyes trained on yours as he truthfully uttered. Each word pained you more than you could imagine. Your heart began to break, tears rolling down your cheeks like a stream.

“How could I be with you, such a gorgeous, strong woman? I was unworthy and it made my blood boil.” His confession left you utterly speechless. “Hange said I should give you up. It’s an easy way out but the thought of that kept me up at night.” Hange was Levi’s best friend from college and now a dear friend of yours. You were completely unaware of these conversations.

“The fact that Hange even mentioned that made me sick. That night, I decided to be worthy of you. Because you’re mine. I can give up this whole world but never you,” he whispered and his mouth found your neck.

“W-why didn’t you ever tell me?” You contained your moans, crying out in pain and awe as Levi’s teeth dug in your collarbone. His tongue slickly traced the bite mark across the neckline as he tasted you to his fulfilment.

“Because you don’t need to care about it,” he rasped, his heavy pants taking over your head making you twitch and turn in his hold.

“I’ve achieved enough to protect you,” he whispered against your skin and dropped wet kisses down to your cleavage.

“I want to rip his filthy fucking eyes out for looking at you like that, y/n,” he roared, the bitterness returning; his eyes remained on yours, watching you throw your head back as he satiated his hunger. His kisses grew desperate, needy- his hand against your waist tightening as he pulled you into him.

Your body reacted on its own, curling into his hot frame. Everything felt hot: from the heavy breaths exhaled against your neck to the hand gripping your waist. Your face was probably on fire and you felt so dirty for letting him submit to his desires outside in a car-park where anyone could walk in and watch a show. But it also felt so euphoric, to have him desperately feasting on you that you couldn’t reject him.

Jealous Levi made your stomach pool.

“You’re only mine-how dare that fucking crook stare at you like that,” his words were cut off as he painfully dug his teeth into your breast, a gasp escaping from your mouth.

“Levi,” you breathed, your body aching like you had caught a fever. He heard you clear and your airy words turned him on more than ever because he started to push himself into you, kisses trailing into your chest.

You felt him. You almost screamed because he was so brutally turned on, you shook against his frame, your legs falling weak. He supported you as he held you tightly, digging his nose into your hair, inhaling your sweet scent.

You were so heated when you heard footsteps, a heel clicking against a marble floor. Even though, your ears heard the sounds loud and clear, your mind was elsewhere and refused to comprehend or react appropriately by pulling away. You knew you should-this is so embarrassing but you couldn’t get yourself to push Levi away.

You were pulled out of your trance when Levi jerked back, his gaze so pained and hazy. You swear you saw his limbs shake as his chest heaved, his body so rigid, afraid to move or he would fall to the ground. He clenched his fist determinedly and swore under his breath.

“Get in the car-no one sees you like this,” he commanded. You didn’t know what he meant but you obediently ran to the passenger seat and rushed inside, your heart clashing against your chest. In the rear view mirror, you saw yourself and immediately realised what your boyfriend meant. He didn’t want anyone to see you-your hair messy, eyes hooded with intense desperation, your face flushed and breathing heavy; you looked lustrous, so turned on and oozing of desire.

The next second, you heard Levi pull the door and get inside. His forehead was covered in a cast of sweat and his hair was now a mess as if he had run his fingers through the black strands.

“I can’t drive. I literally can’t feel my legs.”

You threw your head back, your frame wreaking with laughter. He glared at you, his eyes still brewing with desire.

“Shut up before I take you here,” he threatened and you quickly shut up. You knew him too well to know that he would actually comply. You gazed at him as he sat inhaling and exhaling, an exercise he sometimes used to recover.

After sitting for ten more painful minutes, he finally drove home and you had never seen him drive so fast. It was going to be a long, long, long night and you were going to enjoy every second of it with Levi.