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peoniesnro · 1 month ago

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Perfect Partner | Prequel

All Jungkook wanted was to keep his ray of sunshine all to himself.

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre- Yandere | Dark Romance

Warnings- Yandere (Obsessive love/ Jeon is delusional (Of course he is)/ Violence/ Blood/ Murder attempt/ Assualt attempts/ Clubbing/ Drugs/ Making out/ Dirty thoughts/ Grinding/ Betrayal/ And that bitchy friend) I hope I mentioned everyting.

Word count- 22K

a/n-Hey guys!! It’s finally done and out there. Phew… I feel so relieved and happy. First off, I’m so sorry for the delay. Life has been a lot lately—moving to a new state, starting at a new university, and basically rebuilding from scratch. It’s been tough, especially job hunting as a student, which has taken up a lot of my time. That was the main reason for this chapter to get late since I only wrote in the little time I got in between my job hunt (which hasn’t been very successful yet). That being said, after a lot of thought (and encouragement from my dear mutuals), I’ve decided to create a ko- fi page because a little support from you could help me a lot in this state. But of course, there’s no pressure at all. I’ll still continue to write my stories here free whenever I can because I love you all (A lot). But for anyone who wants to chip in, I’ve also prepared some special perks for Ko-fi supporters! You can check it out here. (Coffee corner) Thank you so much for all the love you’ve shown in this story and let’s meet with the second sequel. Love you all soooooo much.

THE ONLY EXCEPTION

This is the prequel, read the first parts here -

Perfect Partner - Prefect Partner (Sequel 1)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook sits on the far end of the lecture hall, playing with his pen. Click. A roll. Another click and then another roll. Over and over. Picking up speed. His leg starts to bob as well. He hates this place. He hates lots of things. The university, that stupid professor, and all the other students. But, of course, after his parents. He hates them the most.

He never wanted to study business to begin with. He was perfectly fine with his computer. He could’ve changed the world if he was just allowed to learn what he wanted. But no. Here he is. Sitting in a strategic management lecture despite his huge displeasure.

See, he has every reason to hate his parents. Dear parents who made him learn business because they wanted him to take after the family business. Parents who believed punishments and a whip were necessary to raise a boy. Parents who thought locking a child in a dark basement for days, terrified of unseen monsters, was the right way to discipline him. Parents who believed making him unloved was the way to make him manly.

Well, fuck them!

Jungkook glances at his watch. One more minute until the lecture starts.

59, 57, 58…

A click…

A roll…

The stupid professor probably won’t start the lecture on time, though. Jungkook knows it by experience.

45, 44, 43…

A click..

His leg bobs up and down uncontrollably.

He just wants the day to end. End it fast so he could haul inside his dorm room peacefully.

3, 2, 1……

And it’s time but as he expected, the old hag doesn’t start the lecture.

Jungkook groans in annoyance. When will people learn about punctuality? It’s exactly after 30 seconds that the old professor finally starts the lecture.

Finally!

Then just as he starts speaking, the lecture hall door barges open. Someone storms inside, panting hard. Another fool who doesn’t know how to work on time. Jungkook watches in mild annoyance as the newcomer bows deeply in apology. So deep that their forehead practically touches the floor. Then they turn around.

A girl.

Her eyes roam over the lecture hall, trying to find an empty spot. The entire hall is almost filled by that point. Except for the one next to Jungkook.

Oh fuck!

The last thing he wants is someone to sit next to him. Normally, people don’t. They prefer to stay away from the quiet kid who always keeps his face hidden in a hoodie. They preferred not to engage with the creepy kid who always wears black from head to toe. No problem, though. Jungkook is just fine.

Then here comes this new girl, rushing toward him. Jungkook doesn’t bother looking at her as she starts to whisper.

“Hey! You don’t mind if I take this seat, right?”

He doesn’t answer. The girl doesn’t wait for his answer, anyway. Just sits down. Shuffles around with her things while Jungkook just opens his laptop. He almost pays attention to the professor when her chirpy voice interrupts him again.

“I’m so sorry I’m probably invading your safe space. Shouldn’t have come so late to the lecture but my friends- wait, I’m rambling and you didn’t ask. You probably don’t want people yapping at you. First I made you sit with me and now I’m talking to you when you don’t even look at me- And I’m rambling again. I should shut up. I’m gonna shut up. I’m sorry.”

Then, silence.

Good. Thank fuck. Jungkook is so glad that the girl decided to shut her big mouth. He basks in the peaceful silence for a minute. But then here it comes. Fucking curiosity. Curiosity to know who’s the person that was forced to sit next to him but obviously wasn’t forced to talk to him. He turns his head slightly. To be met with a petite figure. Bright eyes wide and looking at the professor. Luscious lips where the bottom one is trapped between pearly teeth. Soft hair framing a pretty face.

A girl who casually talked with him.

A girl who is apparently not freaked out by him.

A pretty girl.

Fucking pretty.

The prettiest.

You!

The first encounters are always the funniest. Like this one. You turn your head abruptly toward him. As if you sensed his stares. Jungkook jerks and averts his head away from you.

“Oh, by the way my name is (___), how ‘bout you?”

He doesn’t answer. Yet again. You don’t mind. Just start yapping. Yet again.

………………………….

You enter your shared apartment with your boyfriend. Feeling exhausted after a long day of lectures and your part time job. Just to be met with a Jimin who casually sprawls across your couch. You wrinkle your nose in displeasure. Not that you hate Jimin or anything, but lately, all your friends- including Hoseok’s and yours- have started living rent-free in your apartment.

Jimin is a good, funny, and charming guy but in moments like these, all you want is to be left alone with your other half. Maybe just cuddling and watching a movie. Or even better- getting your brains fucked out.

Well, it seems that the thought would have to wait.

You walk toward Jimin on the couch. A sheet mask on his face and listening to Thank You, Next. He’s been obsessed with that song for so long now you’re becoming tired of hearing it. You nudge his legs with your knee, demanding him to make space for you. Jimin barely lifts his head before bending his legs and giving you space to sit down.

“Where’s Hobi?” You ask as you drop down onto the comfy leather.

“Around.” Jimin just nonchalantly waves his hand around making you annoyed.

“Yah!” You bellow when he raises his head up once again.

“Yah!,” He matches your voice. “How the fuck would I know where your boyfriend is?” Asks, bewildered. Well, that’s a good point.

“Why are you here again?” So, you change the topic. Jimin finally stops trying to relax while your annoying figure is next to him. Instead, he sits up and removes the face mask.

“To use your skincare products and, of course, your shower.” Says matter of factly. You knew the face mask was yours. See, they’re totally taking advantage of your place. You open your mouth to give yours and your boyfriend’s best friend a piece of your mind when the sudden sound of a door opening interrupts you. You and Jimin both turn your head behind you. Where the only bedroom in this little apartment is, and a little bit disoriented Hoseok appears.

Your lips stretch into a huge grin at the comforting presence of your boyfriend. He looks a little red in his face. It takes him a split second to return your grin.

Weird!

Or not. He was probably asleep and woke up startled by your yelling.

“Hey, baby!” You greet him warmly. Hold your hand out toward him. Silently asking him to join you on the couch. But before he could, Jimin interrupts.

“Is she still showering?” Gestures in your bedroom. “Yah! What is she? A damn fish?” Almost gets to his feet. You look at him in question when the answer appears through the door.

Daebi. Your best friend. Her hair wraps up in one of your towels.

“Oh hi baby, you’re early.” Hoseok finally returns your earlier greeting and takes your hand in his. Sits down next to you. You look at him surprised for a second before you avert your gaze to your best friend again.

“Really?” You raise one of your brows. This is what you mean when you say they’re abusing your house. Jimin just gots up and disappears inside your bedroom- where you know-he inevitably goes to shower as well. And the idiot put on that mask before he showers. And that’s such a waste.

“Oh, c’mon, your shower is just nice. Besides, you're not the one who pays the bills. It’s your sweet boyfriend.” She winks and waltzes toward your mini kitchen.

“Seriously? This is the time we should move out from this place and let’s make sure we find a place with the shittiest shower.” You state as you still keep your eyes over to where your best friend just walks away. Hoseok snorts.

“It’s okay baby.” He places a soft kiss on your cheek. You immediately relax at the sensation. He places another. Then another. All over your cheek and then trailing down toward your jaw. Neck. Throat. You swear you tried your best not to moan but an involuntary moan slips through your lips. Makes Hoseok grin against your skin. He gives you another kiss. This time open mouthed. You shudder. But then it hits you. He’s trying to distract you from getting mad at your friends. You shove him away.

“It’s not okay.” You shake your head in disagreement. Hoseok sighs. Rolls his eyes.

“It’s just a shower (___).”

“I know. It’s not about the shower though. It’s about me wanting to have some alone time with you and-” Your turn to face him. It’s not that you're mad at your friends for real. You smirk. “- maybe I’m just horny….. and-”

He stops your words by attacking his lips to yours. Kisses you deep. Tongue swapping across your bottom lip, inviting you for that familiar heated dance. And you forget about your friends and the shower. Completely. Everything disappears. Just Hoseok. And you. Only living creatures. So, you give him what he’s asking for. Access to the inside of your mouth. He wastes no time in thrusting his tongue forward. Tangling with yours. Creating a hot mess of saliva. Only pulls away when your head starts to spin. “Yeah?” Questions when he does.

“Yeah.” You whisper, breathlessly. So Daebi won’t hear you. A devilish smirk appears on your boyfriend’s face.

“Then we should do something about it and let’s just ask Jimin to walk out of the shower with his eyes closed.” He whispers back. Kisses your neck once again. This time with his hot tongue grazing over your sensitive skin.

“Hobi..” You gasp softly. And that’s all it takes for your boyfriend’s restrictions to snap. He stands up at light speed. Almost picks you up from the couch just as your phone dings. You mindlessly search inside your pocket for the annoying device while keeping your eyes on Hoseok. He waits patiently until you check who’s texted you. You reluctantly turn your gaze toward your phone. Unlocking it quickly. Only to find a simple ‘Hi’ from an unknown number. “Who’s that? Anything important?” Hoseok asks you as you lock your phone again and throws it away.

“Nope. I don’t know who that is. Don’t care either. C’mon, lover boy, fuck me, hm?” You bat your eyelashes at Hoseok. He curses slowly before really picking you up from the couch this time. You squeak as he starts to walk toward your bedroom. Just as Daebi comes out of the kitchen with a horrified expression on her face. She’s allergic to PDA. So, you understand that expression. You give her a quick wave before Hoseok kicks the bedroom door closed.

……………………..

You’re early today. It feels nice to be early to your lecture and not having to sweat your ass down while running across the university. You stand in front of the almost empty lecture hall. Assessing your seating options. Since you’re early, you can choose to sit wherever you want. But then, your eyes slowly wander over to the back. Stopping at the figure hunched over there. All in black. Face covered in the hoodie.

You didn’t see his face last time either. Only a set of pink lips. And a part of his cheek while he was busy staring at you. But that was all. He never bothered to remove his hoodie. It almost felt like he was deliberately trying to hide his face from you. Which was fine. It’s his choice anyway. Yet by the parts you saw, you guess the boy must have a goldy face. Such a shame he keeps it hidden.

Lost in your own thoughts, you slowly start to walk toward the back of the lecture hall. You had no option but to sit next to him the last time. And you just know he didn’t like your company that much. Still you decide to approach him. You just feel bad. True, you’ve never even seen him before. But you guess that’s how his entire college life must have been. Alone in the back of the class. Depressing. You can’t help but feel sad. And your altruistic self believes you can be of help.

He turns his head slightly toward you when you finally approach him. Still not enough to see anything besides his pink lips.

“Hi!” You chirp. “Mind if I?” You gesture at the empty seat, expecting him to stay silent. To ignore you completely like the last time. Then, to your surprise, he nods. Just once. But nonetheless he does. You grin widely to yourself as you sit. “Thank you.” Mumble. Get comfortable and start fumbling with your laptop and notes. “How have you been?” Question him knowing very well he won’t answer. And your expectations come true.

See now, you don’t wish to be annoying to people. No. You can pick up a sign when it’s needed. But for some reason, you think this guy- who’s in black- maybe needs some company. Even though he doesn’t engage in any conversation with you. That’s the exact reason why you keep asking him a question here or there throughout your lecture. And he nods or shakes his head for some of them. The only question that he answers verbally is when you ask what year he’s in. To your surprise, he’s in his final year.

Well, lucky guy. He’d be out of this hell hole pretty soon.

Now it’s only fifteen more minutes left until the lecture ends and you’re asking him about his favourite lecturer under your breath when you get distracted by your professor.

“Okay, class, it’s time to discuss your upcoming assignment.” He clasps his hands and you immediately pay your full attention to him. You might not pay attention to the lectures but the assignments are important. “As you know the upcoming report is a paired work,” He starts and you sigh heavily. You hate group work. “-which will not be that difficult since we’ve been talking about the topic a lot. And I hope you all will do a great job. Then about assigning you partners, I decided that I’ll not be assigning you with random people since it makes it awkward and uncomfortable. I believe you’ll be more effective working with someone who you’re already comfortable with. So, it’s up to you to decide who your partner will be. You have two weeks until the due date.”

Oh fuck!

You have no one you’re familiar with in this class. It’s almost mechanical how you snap your head to your left. Toward the guy in black.

“Wanna partner up?” You blurt out before you can process. “Uh- I mean only if you want to of course. Do you have anyone here you want to partner up with or-”

“You.” He snaps, making you stop your rambling abruptly.

“Huh?”

“L-let’s p-partner up. You’re good.” He stutters out an explanation. You chuckle softly, finding him to be so adorable.

“Good. Thank you. I mean I don’t know many people and oh,” You perk up remembering your need to make sure he doesn’t get high hopes about good grades while working with you. You’re just bad at this. “But I want you to know that I’m very bad at this. Business is really not my thing. Never wanted to pursue this degree but my mom made me do it. So, I hope-”

“You have a shitty family too?”

You close your mouth immediately.

What, now?

That’s the most he’s said so far, and he’s asking if your family is shitty. A laugh slips through your lips.

“Wh-what? Of course, no-” You even start to shake your head. Because that’s not true. Your family is the best. “Not at all. They’re good. Just didn’t want me to pursue music since they believe it won’t be easy to make a stable future with that. That’s all. They're not bad.” You let him know when he just nods again and looks straight ahead. “Um- but why did you ask that?” You ask anyway, despite his clear signs of not wanting to talk anymore. He shrugs.

“Because I have a shitty family.” States meekly. Voice almost inaudible that you have to lean in to catch it. And you feel your heart squeezing. That’s awful. See, you knew he was in a bad situation.

“I’m so sorry.” You mutter sadly. “You didn’t want to study business?” You ask again, hoping that his family situation is just about not letting him pursue his dream. He shakes his head. Nothing more. You wait a minute until he says something else but when he doesn’t, you decide to ask something else. “What did you want to learn then?”

“I.T”

You can feel the melancholy in his voice.

This is depressing.

“I’m really sorry.” You mutter again.

………………………………

Jungkook can’t believe it. He really fucking can’t believe that someone- who’s a real person and a girl at that- wanted to sit next to him. To talk to him and then to partner up with him. It feels weird to be honest. Since he has never had such an experience in his life. Sure, he’s done group work but it was always with someone who was assigned to him. You, however, willingly chose to partner up with him.

And you’re real. Very real. Not some fragment of his imagination. Not a scenario he made up in his head while waiting for sleep to reach him. Most importantly, you’re not someone who he met online either. If you were, then he wouldn’t be so surprised about this situation. Because he is a star when it comes to talking with strangers online. He actually has a couple of online girlfriends, to be precise. He’s this charming guy who can swoon women via texts. Or calls for that matter. But when it comes to reality, he’d just shy away. Knowing very well that no one would want to do anything with him. He’s the quiet kid in black clothes. Then here you are. Mindlessly and animatedly talking about the upcoming assignment.

The two of you are walking back from the lecture. And he can see the exit. You haven’t stopped talking ever since you left the lecture hall. You’re telling him the way you could do this. Which part and who should do it. While you keep talking you both step out into the cold autumn air.

“Or, we can do it the other way, you know. No pressure at all.” You look at him hopefully, coming to a halt at the entrance. Jungkook stops with you. Takes a minute.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it for both of us.” He mumbles slowly. But he knows that you heard it judging by the way your jaw dropped. He should’ve let you know before you start fussing over the details and talk a river. But he likes the way your luscious lips move when you talk. So, he waits until you’re out. You stay that way for a minute before prettily giggling.

Wow, he likes the sound of it.

“Oh, you’re joking right? I didn’t take you to be the type to just casu-”

“I’m not,” Jungkook interrupts you. Your giggle trails off. “I’ll do it. You don’t have to worry.” He reassures you again since you don’t believe him. You take more than a minute this time. Try to duck a little to get a look at his face in vain. He turns his face away from you. He doesn’t want you to see him. You’re so nice to him and actually enjoy his presence. But what if you change your mind after seeing his face? Not that Jungkook has any problem with how he looks. He thinks he looks quite alright. Yet he’s still a weird kid. He knows he must look pale since he hasn’t gone under the sun for forever lately. And his eyes must look lonely and lifeless. That would surely scare you away. You give up trying to look at him.

“Wh-what? But why?” Ask instead. Well, because Jungkook wants to do something nice for you. The only girl who ever approached him in real life. It simply makes him happy to do something for you. To see you happy. He doesn’t tell you that, however. He just shrugs.

“Because I can.” Simply says when you start shaking your head.

“No-no. That’s not right. I can’t let you do a whole twenty page long report on both of our behalf. Let’s just split the work evenly and-”

“I have lots of spare time.”

“How? I thought you’re in your final year? How can you have so much free time?”

“I just do.” Jungkook grumbles, starting to get annoyed at how you don’t want his help. He just wants to help you. Especially since he knows how bad you’re at this. Academically. Not just from your own words but of course from his research. He couldn’t help but look for you after the first day. Was just curious. It’s really a piece of cake for him to log into the university data. Then access all the details of students. Not that he’s done it before. Never felt a need to do so. You’re the first ever need. And yes, he found a lot about you. Including your personal details. Your permanent address, your current address, your phone number, and lastly your academic records. You were apparently not exaggerating when you told him that you’re bad at this. Barely into the start of your second year and your grades are already suffering. So, Jungkook can help you a little with it and he doesn’t like the way you’re being stubborn.

But before he can say anything you sigh. To his great pleasure. “Okay, if you insist but I feel bad, you should ask me if you need anything, okay?” You take a step toward him. Come so close to him that he feels your body warmth. And he feels a skip in his heart beat. Even his breath hitch. This is new. He feels a shudder rippling through him. Maybe it’s because you’re a girl. Not that he doesn’t know anything. Of course, not. He can make a girl cum in their pants if he has a phone and an internet connection. This is new, though. But he knows that it’s not the novelty that makes his breathing ragged and heart beats a mile a minute. He has been in close proximity to other women but has never felt this way. “Okay?” You ask again, making him snap out of his reverie.

He just nods. You smile.

Pretty!

So fucking pretty.

Pretty that he’s forgetting to breathe.

Pretty that it hurts.

He wants to just touch you. Just your cheek. Then trail down toward those luscious lips of yours. Then down your throat. Down, down, and down.

Jungkook can’t help but wander his gaze down where his mind is taking him. Drinking up your appearance. Your silky skin. And the swell of your breasts. His eyes stop there. Even through the layers of clothing, your breasts look so plump. So soft.

What if he just squeezes them in his large hand? What if-

“Hey!” The sudden voice makes him slightly jump on his spot. You turn around to meet the person who owns that voice at the same time he looks over you. A young man with a bright smile reaches you. Casually. Jungkook turns his gaze back to you right at the time to catch you reciprocating the newcomer's smile.

It looks like you know each other.

“Hey, baby!” Then you mutter softly.

Of fucking course you know each other.

The man pecks your lips slowly. And Jungkook feels his skin prickles. He goes rigid completely. Clenching his jaw so tight even without him knowing it. A burn in his chest makes it hard for him to breathe.

“Who’s this?” The man asks from you, making you avert your eyes back to Jungkook.

“Oh, this is my….” You start enthusiastically only to trail off. Of course, you still don’t know his name. And how it hurts. Ridiculous. Jungkook turns around without a word. Starts to walk away when you call after him.

“Hey wait! We just, hey….”

But he doesn’t turn around.

…………………………..

Jungkook stands a few feet away from the friend group in the courtyard. He’s trying to stay clear from anyone's sight. Not that anyone would pay him any mind. Still, he doesn’t want you to notice him. No. That’d disrupt his peaceful view. It’s liberating to just look at you.

The girl who wanted to talk with him by herself.

The girl who’s so pretty.

Now, Jungkook doesn’t know why he’s being this way. He found you to be breathtakingly beautiful the first day you sat next to him. You were damn interesting. Intriguing. With your endless chatter.

And then when you had chosen to sit next to him for a second time, he felt something so deep inside him. He no longer hated sitting in a class where some old professor mindlessly talked about things that never reached his brain. He really liked the feeling of having you next to him. Just sitting next to him. Walking next to him. Standing next to him. It was amazing. The feeling. The way his heart was racing. The way he was feeling hot. It was all so nice. He no longer hated this place as well. Just two days with you, he was already feeling positive.

He had never thought he’d ever get to feel such a feeling. A feeling that is not miserable. But instead hopeful. You’re like a ray of sunshine that suddenly peeked at him through the years of dark clouds that shrouded his entire world.

Then, he felt so disappointed in the end.

You didn’t even know his name. It had hurt to think you weren’t even interested in knowing his name. Jungkook really doesn't know why you do what you do. Being all nice to him. Wanting to be around him. Maybe, you’re just a kind person who’s nice to everyone. But something inside him says that’s not the case. That can’t be right, can it? No, it isn’t. You wanted to approach him. That should mean something. Right?

Of course, it means something.

Besides, how well you and he were getting along with each other, even though it was just two days. You have felt so familiar to him. As if he has known you for years. And you share so many similarities. He has found so many interests that are common for you two. Then there is your family situation. You might not admit that you have a shitty family but that’s the truth. You and he are the same. What a match. Isn’t this fate?

People don’t just be nice to other people. You were clearly interested in him. In some kind of way. Even though you obviously have a boyfriend. At that moment Jungkook had felt such a twist in his gut which he later figured out as jealousy. He was so jealous of the man who had approached you that way and got to touch you oh, so freely. It was not fair. It was maddening.

He swears that he had wanted to just forget it and continue with his life like he always did. Just go back to his miserable life clouded by gloomy darkness. But it didn’t work. He was so desperate for that ray of sunshine after that first moment. It was impossible to go back to the darkness just after he felt how good it is to be in the light. No. He wasn’t ready to just let go. So, he had no other options but to seek you in any way he could find.

Your every social media account? Checked. He is following you on every platform he can.

Your address? Checked. He’s been following you back home for a week now.

Your every class? Checked. He knows your daily schedule better than you do.

He knows where you’d be at what time. He knows where you work part time and in which coffee shop you’d pay a visit every day. Knows what is your favourite order- and he liked it the first time he tried. No wonder you’re ordering the same thing again and again. He knows in which corner you’d sit at the library. He knows how much time you waste under the disguise of studying but spending doing nothing but daydreaming. He knows many things. And he’d continue to know more and more. Every little thing about you. Until there’s nothing more to know. Until you’re a part of him.

And while he’s at it. He has felt the same warmth. Even though you are not just engaging in an active conversation with him, he felt the same comforting feeling by just looking at you talking with other people. Even though you aren’t laughing and smiling with him, he certainly does find solace in looking at your smile through your pictures. Pictures you’ve posted in your social media or the pictures he has captured at the most random times.

Oh, how beautiful you look.

And despite all, despite the fact that you have no single idea about you being on his watch for over a week now, he feels so close. So close to you. Closer than he’s even been to anyone. As if you’ve lived with him.

He loves that. Loves how content he feels even when he’s looking at you from afar. And of course, amidst all these, he’s kind of forgotten that you have a boyfriend. Who can blame him, after all. Besides, as now he’s watching you for probably the hundredth time, Jungkook thinks he doesn’t give a double fuck about your boyfriend either. Why should he? For now, he is more than satisfied with looking at you. When he wants more than that, he’d get more than that. Boyfriend or not. You deserve far better than that anyway. You deserve someone who’s obsessed with you. Someone who could treat you like the goddess you are. Like Jeon Jungkook himself.

Until his moment comes, however, he will just love you from afar.

……………………………….

You felt awful after the encounter with the guy in all black who’s now your assignment partner. It feels like such a bitchy thing to do, especially after he offered to do the report all by himself. That’s a huge favor to you since you’re barely hanging there. And yet, you didn’t even know his name.

You wanted to apologize profusely during your next lecture. And you waited expectantly for him to arrive. He didn’t. Which makes your guilt intensified ten fold. Then you waited until your next lecture. He didn’t attend it again.

What if he’s really mad at you? What if you’ve hurt him?

True that you don’t know him very well but hurting someone has not been your intention at all. And there’s the fact that he already has a problematic family. It must be really hard.

Hence, your long face as you enter the university cafeteria after your lecture. Your mind goes around so many different things. You don’t even have a way to contact him. You don’t even know what you should do at this rate. There’s a pending assignment and if he’s decided not to do it anymore, then you need to come up with something. You can’t really afford to fail a subject.

You sigh heavily as you wait in the line to place your order. Eyes just wandering around with no purpose. That’s when your eyes suddenly land on someone who’s hunched over their laptop in a corner booth.

Wait!

That someone is draped in all black. That someone has their face covered from a hoodie.

A wide grin spreads across your face as you unmistakably recognize the person. That’s definitely him. Your assignment partner. You jump into action immediately. Practically sprint toward him. Bumping into a girl in your haste. You pay no attention to her as you make a beeline to the booth where he’s sitting all alone.

“Hey!” You shout just as you reach the booth. Don’t wait for any permission as you slide into the booth right across from him. Someone else would’ve jerked a little at the unexpected barge in but not this guy. He doesn’t even raise his head to look up at you. Just keep staring at his laptop.

Oh okay, that’s fine.

“Hey, why didn’t you come to class today?” You ask despite his lack of interaction. And don’t receive an answer in return. You sigh again. Chew on your bottom lip. “Listen, I’m so sorry about what happened the other day. That was such a low thing to do. You even offered to do the report for me and-” You yet again in vain try to take a look at his face when he lower his head even more. “- I’m really sorry.” So, you just extend your sincere apology. He still doesn’t answer. “But in my defense, I asked your name on the first day, it was you who didn’t answer me.” You add stupidly thinking it’d ease him up. Wrong. He’s still silent.

“Okay, okay, let’s just do this again.” You hold your hand toward him. “I’m (__). It’s nice to meet you Mr?” He doesn’t take your hand in his. Nor does he answer your question. You keep your hand that way for a long awkward second before you let it fall down. “Okay.” You mumble and nod just after another minute. “That’s fine. I get why you’re mad at me and that’s fair. I was a bitch and if you don’t want to do the report all by yourself anymore, I’m fine with it. Just tell me what part I should do so-”

He cuts you off abruptly by turning his laptop toward you all of a sudden.

“Huh?” You dumbly stare at him. Then at the laptop screen. “Wh-what’s this?” Question tentatively.

“Report.” Finally, he answers. You turn your attention back to him, not understanding what he’s talking about. “I already finished it.” So, he clarifies.

What now?

You hastily start to read the document on the device. Scroll down. Eyes roaming over the words, numbers, statistics, and images. Holy hell, he indeed has finished the report. All twenty pages are done. Your eyes go wide in pure disbelief. Even suck in a shaky breath.

“Wow…” You whisper even without you knowing you said that audibly. “Wow..” This time, you say it more clearly. Look back at the guy in front of you. Still staring down and his face hidden. “Fucking wow, Mr. No name. How did you even? I mean.. It’s only been two weeks and you already finished this?” You shake your head.

“Told you, I have a lot of spare time.” He mumbles softly, making you smile. You find him intriguing. And kind of adorable. “I- uh- will send it to you so you can proofread it. Let me know if any changes are needed.” He adds.

“I don’t think this will need any changes. You’re brilliant. Oh god thank you so much,” You chirp happily. “But still send it to me anyway and I’ll go through it.” You pull a tissue paper toward you. Fish out for a pen in your bag. Let out a victorious noise when you find one. “This is my email.” You explain to him as you write it down on the tissue. Shoves it across the table to him. “Thank you again, Mr. No name. You’re the best.” You exclaim yet again. Give him his laptop back when your alarm suddenly goes off.

“Oh shit.” You take the device from your pocket and turn off the alarm. “I have another class.” Explain to your half- dead companion even when he doesn’t give a fuck. You get to your feet hastily. Looks like you’ll have to forget about your lunch. Almost turn around to leave before you eye the guy who’s nice enough to save your ass at least in one subject.

You hesitate for a bit. Pondering on your thoughts. Then say fuck it as you hurriedly round the table.

“Thank you so much!” You state with the bottom of your heart. Lean down to throw your arms around his neck. A fleeting sideways hug to show your gratitude. He’s so nice and you have no other way to show how thankful you are.

“Let me know if you need anything in the future. I’m quite happy to return the favor.”

You shout that out as you already start to walk away.

…………………

Jungkook stupidly stares at the tissue paper on the table. Your email address scribbled on it. His heart pounds erratically in his throat. His ears roar. Ridiculous, since it was just a simple hug. But he can’t help it. The way you melted into him. The way your breath momentarily hit his ear when you pulled away. The way your soft breasts just slightly pressed against his shoulder.

Fuck!

What would he do to have it again?

To have more. To have you in his hands. Your body pressed against his. Your soft breasts against his hard chest. To touch you all over. Kiss every inch of your skin. Knead your round ass cheeks. To smell you. And then of course, to have you naked and whimpering beneath him. His hard cock ramming inside you while you cry out his name.

A thin layer of sweat forms on his skin. All the blood in his body rushing downward. How embarrassing this is that he’s getting a hard-on from a simple hug. He can’t help it. He absolutely can’t.

Jungkook closes his eyes for a minute to relive the brief moment where he felt you against him. An involuntary groan leaves his throat at the memory. He’d have to rush home now. There’s an aching problem between his legs to take care of. Yet soon as he opens his eyes again, he’s met with the tissue paper on the table.

Weird.

He finds you to be really weird. Why didn’t you text him your email address? Isn’t that the new normal? Or are you a hopeless romantic who loves to do such funny things? A soft smile graces his lips.

Jungkook picks up the tissue from the table.

Do you pity him?

Or do you just like him, like how he thought?

You approached him after all. Yet again. Like you always do. It makes Jungkook’s heart flutter to think that you’ve been looking for him. Looking for a chance to apologize sincerely.

Oh, how complicated you are. Like an unsolvable puzzle. And Jungkook loves solving them.

He pockets the tissue before picking up his phone. Still finding it weird that you decided to write it down like that. You could’ve just texted him. He unlocks the phone and opens a text thread where the last message was from more than two weeks ago.

Pretty

You’re the one who sent the last message.

Pretty

Thursday, 15 March, 2018

Oh, no. I hate Choco Pie. Can’t stomach it. (9. 00 a.m.)

Jungkook hasn’t replied to you because it was just an hour before your lecture. Despite your enthusiasm to talk with him over the texts Jungkook has been pretty nervous that you won’t choose to sit next to him. Then you did. Solidifying his suspicions that you might like him. But then the day didn’t end well and he didn’t want to text you back. You didn’t either. Not even an apology.

You’re weird.

First, you never asked his name even over texts.

Second, you could’ve just text an apology but you sought him out instead. You decided to be a little romantic and write down your email on a darn tissue paper. Another smile graces over Jungkook’s lips at the prospect. Maybe he was right. Maybe you like him. It doesn’t matter that you have a boyfriend. Maybe you’re not in love with him. Maybe it’s not only him who’s been feeling so connected to you.

Jungkook shoves his phone inside his pocket as well, deciding not to ponder on the thought anymore. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the fact that you actually came. Made amends. So, he turns off his laptop. Gathers his belongings to leave the cafeteria. Is pushing everything inside his bag when a loud chirpy voice catches his attention and makes him look in the direction. The way that someone happily bellowed really matches the way you do it. Hence his sudden interest. Yet he’s met with a stranger. A girl who just enters the cafeteria. A boy follows her. Jungkook almost looks away in disinterest before his mind registers the boy who entered. He does a quick double take.

And he wasn’t wrong.

There he is. Your so-called boyfriend.

Jung Hoseok!

Of course, Jungkook knows everything about the said man from A to Z. Of course, he dug deeper into the said man’s life since the day he saw him. All it took was a simple stalk over your Instagram to find the needed person. Then it was just as easy as eating a piece of cake for Jungkook. Maybe, he recognizes the girl too. She was in your photos. She didn’t pique his interest, however. Only your boyfriend did.

Oh, how Jungkook hates Jung Hoseok. Just because Hoseok exists. Because he exists and found you before Jungkook did.

Not that Jungkook can do anything about it though. So, he proceeds to finish packing up his things. Swings his backpack over his shoulder. Takes a step forward just to stop dead on the track. Eyes wide at what he sees.

The girl pouts. Whines about something he quite can’t hear. Then she turns around. Goes to her tippy-toes just to connect her mouth with the man behind her. The man who is unmistakably Jung Hoseok. The man who is definitely your boyfriend.

Jungkook lets out a soft, inaudible gasp.

Well, isn’t this so fucked up?

Hoseok doesn’t shove the girl away immediately. He revels in the kiss for a moment before suddenly pulling away as if the girl burnt him. His eyes scan the cafeteria furiously afterwards. Panicked. His eyes roam past Jungkook without recognizing.

Good!

Jungkook doesn’t know what his initial thoughts about the situation were. But now he is quite sure. Your dear boyfriend is cheating on you. And probably with someone who’s close to you, if she’s the girl Jungkook saw on your profile.

Jung Hoseok is cheating on you! The fucking bastard is cheating on a woman like you!

See, he knew you deserve much better.

………………………………

“So…” Daebi drags out while twisting the mascara cap closed. You watch her through the bathroom mirror, applying lip balm to your lips which are drier than Sahara.

“So what?” You question when she doesn’t complete whatever she was about to say and gets distracted with checking her blemishes instead. You get her attention back to you, successfully.

“So… you mean this weird guy in a hoodie from your class completed a whole damn report for you and you don’t even know his name yet?” Daebi finally asks. You shrug.

“Yep. And it isn’t my fault, you know. He just refuses to say his name. I asked him a million times.”

Daebi chuckles. “And you think it’s safe to hang out with someone who refuses to reveal their identity? I mean you haven’t even seen his face?” Turns around and leans against the counter. You scrunch up your face in displeasure. Why does everyone think that a quiet kid is always a danger?

“Don’t be like that Daebi. He’s just shy. Other than that he’s a really nice guy. I mean have you ever met someone who’s willing to do a group assignment all on their own happily. And he doesn’t even want anything in return.” You finish up applying lip balm and place it inside your bag.

“That’s exactly why you should be careful. People don’t do stuff like that, not anymore at least. There’s always a hidden motivation. Who knows? Maybe he likes you.” Daebi casually inspects her perfectly manicured nails as she states that. A smug smile on her lips. You take a minute at that. Eyes wide. A minute of uncertainty where you consider what she just said.

Could it be?

Of course not. Your stupid best friend is messing with you.

“Yah!” You nudge her away with your hip. Makes her giggle. “He literally saw me with Hoseok the other day. He’s just a nice guy.” You turn around as you say. Place your bag and phone on the counter top. Leave them behind knowing Daebi will stay for you.Walk toward one of the stalls.

“That doesn’t matter dude. He still can be deeply, madly in love with you.” Your best friend shouts after you as you close the bathroom stall’s door behind you, making you reopen it and flip her off.

………………………

You eye your classmate suspiciously as you sit in your designated spots in the familiar lecture hall. Not that you can see much. His face is mostly covered in his infamous hoodie. By now, you’ve grown mostly comfortable around him. After all, you’ve attended more than five lectures together. He’s still not one of your best friends but you genuinely like him. You may not stay in touch out of this class room but when you’re inside, he’s the best company you could ever wish for. You haven’t asked for his number mainly because you thought he wouldn't like to share it with you. He doesn’t even want to tell you his name. And you find it ridiculous how you two sit next to each other for every lecture but how you still haven’t seen his face.

You’ve grown accustomed to that fact, however.

You and he have been good to each other. Just two normal people who share a class together.

Yet today, something feels off. Not that he’s done anything to make you uneasy. Quite the opposite to tell the truth. He’s done nothing at all. You know it’s your stupid best friend's words that are plaguing your mind. You can’t help but let your head get ahead of yourself. Let your mind wander.

What if what she said was true?

He’s been so nice to you. Who would volunteer to complete a whole ass group assignment by themselves?

Gosh, you’re being ridiculous now. Not everyone is the same. It doesn’t mean anything just because he did something nice for you. Besides, if he’s really interested he’d at least ask for your number, wouldn’t he? You shouldn’t let Daebi’s delusional ideas get to you. You shake your head to get rid of the silly thoughts. Turn your head to pay attention to the lecture. Which apparently is a good idea but acted upon a little late. Just as you turn your head, you’re met with your professor’s direct gaze landed up on you. Your eyes go slightly wide at the sudden attention.

“Anything interesting on your friend’s face Miss (___)?” He questions while crossing his arms across his chest.

Oh!

You instantly go red at the professor's words. Cheeks burning.

Embarrassing. This is oh so fucking embarrassing. And it turns worse when the whole class turns around to look at you. You would very much be glad if the floor could split up and swallow you whole. Unfortunately, that isn’t an option. Hence, your little bow and the muttered apology.

“I’m sorry professor.” You’re not entirely sure that he heard it. He nods nonetheless.

“Pay attention child.”

You’re so relieved when he turns around to continue with the lecture with that. Yet the residue of your embarrassment remains. Your face is still burning, making you press your cold hands across it. Trying to soothe the flaming skin. It’s really hot here. But at least it won’t get any worse-

“You were staring at me?”

Of course, it can get much worse. You know your friend isn’t teasing you. He is not the type to tease. Still it feels like he is taunting. Making fun of you. You turn your gaze down toward your notebook. Wishing you had a hoodie to cover up your face as well.

“Uh- it’s- it’s not like that, you know. I- I wasn’t staring-”

“I like that you were staring.”

You snap your head toward him so fast that you’re certain you just broke your neck. Mouth agape and eyes wide in surprise.

“What?”

“I would love it if you were looking at me.”

You close your mouth shut. Not knowing what to say. Besides everything, who would admit to such a thing? It's one thing to secretly like something like that but admitting it?

He’s weird.

“W-why?”

“Because, I like it.”

He states nonchalantly. Stark opposite to the way someone should say it.

Wasn't he shy? He was so shy. He is not the kind of person to admit things like that. And this is so sudden. Something doesn’t feel right. Yet you don’t question it. Instead, you just pay your attention back to the lecture silently. Forcing yourself to believe that there is nothing wrong. It’s just your best friend’s words making you think something is up.

Who knows? Maybe he likes you?

Does he like you?

Is that it?

If that’s the case you might have to make the air clear between you two before things get complicated. You love your boyfriend and you don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Yet you can’t do that when you’re not certain about his feelings.

Maybe you should just wait. Wait and see.

……………………

You nuzzle your nose against your boyfriend’s chest. Whining and complaining. Hoseok chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through his chest in a soothing way.

“Oh gosh! Will you two stop acting like clingy cats? You know I’m fucking allergic to PDA.” Your best friend interrupts your sweet moment as she throws a pillow at you. It hits right across Hoseok’s face.

“Yah!” He complains in annoyance as you regard your best friend with a scowl in your face.

“Well this isn’t a public display of affection you idiot. We’re in our house and all of you damn annoying germlings should leave us to ourselves.” You point out the obvious, looking at each of your friends. They all, yet again, are in your sweet home.

“Not until we come up with a plan for my birthday. This is really awkward, you know?” Daebi munches on some chips before continuing. “That I have to plan my own birthday. I have bunch of damn friends, and no one gives a fuck. I have to fucking surprise myself.”

“You don’t necessarily give any of us any time to plan anything Daebi. You’ve been planning on your own birthday ever since your last one ended.” Jimin defends you all. You and your other friend Nina can’t help but snort unpleasantly at how true that statement is. Daebi pouts adorably. You think it’s ridiculous that she doesn’t have a boyfriend yet. She is so damn gorgeous and adorable that it’s baffling how boys aren’t swooning over her 24/7.

“Okay, fine. My bad. I’m so fucking sorry Jimin.” She hisses at Jimin. “But still we need to plan my birthday. Tell me where we should go?” Yet doesn’t back away. All of you sigh frustratedly. Her birthday is a week away but you know she won’t shut up until you come up with a thorough plan.

“Well, it’s your birthday so you should decide how to celebrate.” You finally pull away from Hoseok’s warm embrace. Daebi lights up instantly.

“Really? And you gonna agree with anything that I come up with?” Asks. You all nod in unison. “Yep.” Nina even adds. “And you won’t say no? Won’t back away at the last minute?” Daebi asks again. “Jesus, woman, we won’t. Go ahead with this shit please.” It’s Nina who mutters irritatedly again.

“Elysium” This time Daebi doesn’t even blink as she excitedly bellows where she wants to celebrate her birthday. Yet only she looks excited. Aside from her, the entire room falls into a shocked silence.

“You want to go where now?” Nina leans forward on her seat. Disbelief written all over her features. She asks the exact same question you wanted to ask.

“The Elysium.” Deabi repeats with a nonchalant shrug.

“Are you fucking serious Daebi?” Hoseok is the one who questions this time. His brows pulled together.

“Yep.” Daebi looks around the room. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Looking at you like that? Dude, you want to go to Elysium. The fucking Elysium. Of all the damn places you can choose, you want us to hang out in the shadiest and most dangerous club in the city?” You practically yell at her.

“Oh c’mon, that’s just a myth. It’s a club just like any other club in the city which has a bad reputation due to something some idiot said.” She argues with a straight face.

“What if it’s not?” Jimin points a finger at her.

“Then we’ll leave. No biggies. I’m fucking curious about the place guys. C’mon, you promised you won’t say no.” Daebi whines.

“That was before you chose the fucking Elysium.” You groan.

“That doesn’t matter. Trust me guys, it’s just another club. Why are you people like this? Let’s live a little, yeah? This is our college life, if we won’t do such things now, when will we?” She gets to her feet. Obviously mad at all of you. Ready to leave. Makes you feel bad but you still can’t agree to go out into the one place everyone should stay away. It’s just common knowledge. It’s undoubtedly an illegal club. Can go inside only with an invitation. Or so people say. So, you have no idea how Daebi plans to go inside even if you all agreed.

“Okay, fine. But we will leave if anything suspicious happens, okay?”

Just before Daebi turns around a voice next you adds with a heavy sigh. You snap your head to your right at light speed at the same time Daebi stops on her track. You gape at Hoseok in utter pure disbelief.

“Really?” Daebis asks slowly.

“Really?” You shout loudly.

Hoseok turns to you first.

“I mean, it really can be a rumor baby. We’ll go inside, and if anything seems off, we’ll leave right away.” He assures you despite the uncertainty laced in his face.

“Ha! We’re about to die on the day Daebi was born. What a way to go.” Jimin snickers before he gets up and disappears inside your kitchen. You look at Nina, hoping to have some back up on your side. She sighs heavily.

“I really don’t know guys. As long as you keep me safe, I’m down.” She gets up as well.

“No but-” You turn to Hoseok again. “You got nothing to be afraid of, baby. I Got you. C’mon it’s just for this once and she’s your best friend.”

He snakes a hand around your shoulders and pulls you into his body. Places a soft kiss in your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut in frustration. You swear you want to argue. Say no. But Hoseok has this soft spot inside your heart that makes it impossible for you to say no.

Gosh this is so fucking annoying!

“Please.” Hoseok plants another kiss on your cheek. Then another. Another plea. And you’re melting.

“Okay.” You relent at the seventh kiss to be precise. “But I swear to god Daebi-” You try to speak over the squeals Daebi is letting out. “-I’m gonna kill you both if anything happens. Yah! Are you listening to me?” You shout through the top of your lungs. Just to get ignored. Hoseok shakes you softly in his hold. You give up trying to negotiate. A smile creeps across your lips as your other two friends join you back again.

“Still, you can’t go in without an invitation Daebi. How are we gonna manage that? Break in? Oh, God please don’t tell me that’s what you want.” Jimin points out a very valid question, sitting back with another packet of chips. Great.

“Just leave that to me.” Daebi chirps excitedly. Everyone regards her with curious looks. Waits till she clarifies further. She doesn’t. Just smiles mischievously. Guess she has her ways and knowing Daebi, you know she won’t tell you even if you begged. So, you all leave that up to her. Just like she asks.

……………………………

You knot the trash bag tightly. A sigh escapes your mouth as you pick it up to take outside. Despite how annoying it was to have your friends over at your place all the time, it gets a little bit lonely when no one is around. Your entire apartment feels hollow. So empty and quiet that the sound of a needle dropping would echo as a bomb detonating. You would’ve appreciated the peace if Hoseok was here, though.

You click your tongue in annoyance, making your way toward the front door. All you want is one alone moment with your boyfriend without your friends around. And in the one time you get such a chance, Hoseok has to leave you alone for- in his words- much needed boys night. You asked Daebi to come over tonight, but it turns out she was busy for the first time in her life.

Guess you are alone for the night.

Crisp night air kisses your face the moment you exit the apartment building. You shudder a little. You hate taking trash out but it was becoming unavoidable. The entire apartment was starting to smell like rotten cabbage slowly. That was your cue to tidy up the place. Hence, you’re using your one peaceful, lonely, shitty night to do just that. You open the lid of the trash bin and throw the bag inside. Trying not to breathe so the disgusting smell won’t reach your innocent nostrils. You close back the lid faster as possible. Drag in a deep breath when you do and turn around absentmindedly.

“Hey!”

You jolt so hard that you almost lose your balance. A very inhuman scream escapes your throat. Your hands immediately go up to cover your face in a pitiful attempt of protecting yourself.

“Shit! I’m so sorry. It’s just me.” A voice reaches you at the same time a pair of hands are shot up in a surrendering position.

You instinctively step back. It takes your startled brain a good long minute to register what’s happening. To register the figure in front of you who suddenly emerges there. First thing you notice is a black hood. Then all you notice is black. Black clothing from head to toe. Face hidden behind that hood.

No Name!

You exhale a shaky breath in relief.

Fuck! You had thought that you died.

“No Name? What the fuck! I nearly died, dude.” You finally manage to mumble in between your shaky breaths. Your head is still throbbing and your heart is running a marathon.

“S-sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.” He meekly mutters with a gentle nod in his head. That makes you calm down completely. It’s just him. So, you nod in return. Place your hands on your hips. Let out a final breath of relief. Open your mouth to ask what the hell he is doing here when he starts looking for something inside his pants pocket. Few more seconds and he is stretching his palm out for you. A wallet placed on his outstretched palm. A pink one to be precise. A familiar one. Very.

Wait! That’s yours.

Your eyes go wide as you recognize your wallet. Hell, you hadn’t even realized it was missing until now. When did you lose it? Today? Yesterday? When did you last see him? How did he find it?

“I-is that mine?” You ask dumbly when you already know it’s yours. “H-how?” Ask again without any effort to take the wallet in your hand.

“You left it in class the other day.” He answers simply. You blink at his face. That can’t be true. It’s been more than two days since your last lecture and there’s no way you were so oblivious to the fact that your wallet is missing. How come you never noticed?

But then again, he has it in his hands. There’s no other way for it to be in his possession. Maybe you accidentally left it there. Hoseok or someone else always paid for your food and stuff. Maybe you didn’t have to use your wallet. Or not. You’re not sure. You can’t remember. Using your wallet is such a normal and typical day to day activity that your brain hasn’t memorized the times or places you used it.

“O-okay.” You hesitantly accept his answer in the end. Slowly take the wallet in your hand. “Th-thank you.” Show your gratitude with a deep bow. He just nods again. A silence falls as you awkwardly stare at the man who is standing before you when a sudden question pops up in your head. “Wait!” You perk up. “How did you..? Uh- how do you know where I live?” You ask, suddenly alert. You’re pretty certain that you haven’t told him your address before.

“Uh…” He hesitates for a minute. Then a shrug. “Your friend.” Says making you even more confused.

“Friend?” So you question back. Brows furrowed.

“Your best friend. She told me she’s your best friend.”

“Daebi?”

“I guess so.”

“How did you meet her?” His answers don't ease your confusion but make it worse. Nothing makes sense to you.

“Today at the cafeteria. I saw you together once on the campus. I-uh so I reached her when I saw her today.”

Oh, that makes sense. Only that Daebi failed to let you know about it. She should let you know when someone reached her and ask her about your whereabouts. But this is Daebi. She doesn’t think things through even just to save her life. Of course, she just gave away your address to someone like that. Good thing it’s just him. You sigh in defeat this time. Nod.

“Okay. Thank you again.” You finally smile at him. “You helped me again. Uh- I didn’t even notice that this was gone.” Show him your wallet. “Thank you so much Mr. No Name.” Ease up enough to joke around. Another bow. Another smile and then back to being awkward. “Uh..” You stall, staring at him. Not knowing what to do. “Um.. do you like… uh, wanna come inside?” You blurt out in the end. Yep. That’s the right thing to do. True, you don’t know him well besides the few times you met him at the classes. But you know him, nonetheless. He even finished your report for you. And now he brought your wallet which you didn’t know was missing.

He takes a minute. Then nods.

……………………

“Would you like a drink?” You ask your nameless classmate, already rummaging through the fridge. Receive no answer which forces you to turn around. “No Name?” You quip, feeling amused to see him looking around like a lost kitten. Funny, how you still haven’t seen his face. Only tidbits here and there. Now as he’s looking up, you catch a glimpse of a chiseled jaw. Only for a moment because he snaps his head toward you at your voice.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

He catches you off guard with that question.

“Huh?”

“Your boyfriend? Where is he?” That’s the most this nameless, faceless guy has talked with you. And he asks such questions. You almost think there’s an underlying demand in his tone. You’re hearing it wrong probably.

“Out with the boys. Why?” So, you answer him anyway.

Of course, he doesn’t answer your question again. You wait for a few beats to pass hoping he’d continue the topic but when he doesn’t you decide to let it go. “So, do you want anything to drink? I have beer here. Or if you want anything-”

“What about your friend? The one I met. Your best friend.” He interrupts your little drinks offering. Nearly makes you mad about how he disregards your questions but interrogates you in return, as if he has any rights.

“Why are you asking?” This time you don’t answer.

“You don’t know?”

“‘Course I do. But why would you want to know?” You’re slowly getting irritated.

“Just asking. Because you’re alone here.” He answers so innocently that you instantly feel bad for feeling irritated even for a second.

“She has some assignments to finish.”

He nods in response to your answer. End of that conversation. Right? But you swear you feel that it isn’t finished. As if he has more to say but is trying to keep it shut. There's a sudden tension that fills the air. You feel uncomfortable. Something seems off. Maybe it’s because of the fact that he doesn't normally talk this much. Or the fact he has appeared on your doorway with a wallet that you didn’t know was lost. Or simply you’re being ridiculous. Or-

“You’re really pretty!” If his previous questions caught you off guard, this one leaves you tongue-tied. Your mouth goes into a perfect shape of ‘o’. That is so sudden. Completely out of the blue.

Is that normal? Do people say stuff like that to others?

“What?” When someone compliments you, the right thing to do is thank them. But this feels abnormal.

“You’re really pretty. And I’d like to have a beer.”

Oh!

It’s very rare when you don’t know how to act or what to say. This apparently is one of those rare moments. So, you simply nod and hand him over a beer. Wait uneasily until he finishes it, in hope that he'll leave afterward. You want him to leave because you’re in discomfort. Something isn’t right. You can sense it. He doesn’t leave, however. No matter how long you wait, drowning in that uncomfortable silence, staring at his black hoodie, he doesn’t even show a sign of wanting to leave. If anything, he shifts uncomfortably in his position a few times. You note how he clutches the beer can tightly. He definitely has something to ask you. And you’re getting impatient.

“Uh.. are you, um…” He leaves you with no other options but to ask.

“I have a favour to ask.”

You knew it!

You’re surprised again, though. Never thinking that it was about a favor. But at least this makes it a little bit less awkward. Better than engaging in an alone staring competition. “Oh yeah? What is it?” You’re honestly happy to help him. He did that report for you after all.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“In the morning, yes. Why?” You furrow your brows.

“Want to go out for a coffee with me?”

You thought surprises are over. Thought he was just complimenting you generally. Now, this doesn’t feel like that. Suddenly, Daebi’s voice haunts your mind again.

Who knows? Maybe he likes you.

No. This can’t be that. He’s just asking. Like a friend. And you are fully allowed to decline the invitation. Which you should because you feel weird. Weird about something you can’t quite decipher.

You inhale a shaky breath, preparing yourself to decline his offer. Mentally going through all the excuses you can offer when a sudden sound disrupts you both. Both of you snap your heads to where the sound came. Undoubtedly that was the sound of the front door opening. Makes you confused since no one would come here around this hour. You almost walk out of the kitchen thinking maybe it’s Daebi when your assumptions come wrong as the person who just entered your apartment just walks over to the kitchen.

“Hoseok?” You exclaim in surprise. It’s not even past 10 at night and you can’t believe he’s home this early. When they go out, he doesn’t usually come home at all for the night. This is a nice surprise. Even a gentle smile spreads across your face. You hurry over to your boyfriend. Just to stop after a few steps. Brows furrowing at the sight of your boyfriend scowling deep. It looks like something happened. Yet before you could ask, Hoseok turns away from you. His scowl deepens.

“You have company?” He grumbles, making you turn around as well. A figure standing in the middle of the kitchen comes to your vision.

Oh, you forgot the presence of your classmate.

“Oh, he was just bringing me my lost wallet.” You explain quickly.

“You lost your wallet?” Hoseok pays his attention back to you.

“Well, I didn’t know that I lost it but apparently I have and he-”

“You didn’t know you'd lost your wallet.” Hoseok snaps suddenly and a quick jerk ripples through you. It’s rare when he gets mad. You quickly glance at the stranger in your house. Hoseok and you need to have this conversation later. He’s probably in a foul mood and letting it out on you. You gulp harshly before turning to the visitor.

“Hey! I would- uh- see you in the next class. Thank you again for bringing my wallet. That’s so nice of you.” You still don’t want to appear rude and give him the impression that you want to get rid of him. You have no other choice though. Luckily for you Hoseok doesn’t intervene. He says nothing as you walk your friend back to the door. Says nothing nor does follow you until you bid goodbye to your nameless friend and return back to the kitchen. Only after then he speaks again.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing (__)?” He lashes at you the moment you return to the kitchen. Makes you furrow your brows in mild annoyance.

“What?” You still try your best not to get mad and just talk this through.

“Inviting some stranger inside?”

“He’s no stranger. He’s this kid from my class. You even met him once and he was my partner on that darn assignment.”

“Yeah? The kid who you don’t even know the name of?”

Well, you have no answer for that. Maybe even when the guy wasn’t telling you his name, you should’ve at least tried to figure it out on your own. “See?” Hoseok continues in your silence. “He’s fucking weird (___). I mean, who the fuck keeps their face hidden all the damn time. And why the fuck he can’t tell you his name? Who is he? A fucking spy?” You watch at your boyfriend’s reddened face in partial anger and partial surprise. You don’t think that he should really make it that much of a big deal after all. “And you decided to invite him inside while you’re all alone?” He grits making you finally snap.

“Yeah, and who’s fault was that?”

“Oh now it’s my fault? What is this now? I can’t even go out with my friends?”

“For fucks sake Hoseok! What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I’m just fucking mad to see my girlfriend is hanging out with this weird man when I come home.”

“He’s not fucking weird. Gosh, you guys are all so fucking mean.” You yell so loud that Hoseok instantly shuts his mouth before you turn around on your heel. Leaving him alone in the kitchen and making a beeline toward your bedroom. See, it’s not that you really wanted to defend No Name against your boyfriend. He was weird to tell the truth. You were so uncomfortable with him and are so glad that Hoseok made an appearance right at the time. Yet, the fact Hoseok isn’t clearly interested in your well being but just letting out something else on you makes you so angry. Hence your sudden outburst.

You don’t even look back as you storm into your shared bedroom and slam the door shut behind you. Hoseok can sleep on the couch tonight.

………………….

This has been the longest you’ve fought with each other. Ever since you started dating, which wasn’t that long ago, you haven’t really fought except for a little argument here and there. Now, after a week of tiptoeing around each other, you feel like shit. It’s completely your fault, to be honest. Hoseok had knocked on your bedroom door and apologized right away. Had begged you to open the door. It was you- stupid, stubborn- you who had started another fight right that moment. And Hoseok hadn’t apologized after that. Which is very fair. If someone has to apologise, it should be you. Something that you’ve failed to bring yourself to do so far.

You sigh wearily as the professor starts today’s lecture. You’re once again seated on the far end of the lecture hall. Next to the very same guy who caused a fight with your boyfriend. The same guy who made you feel so uneasy and asked you out for a coffee. You’ve convinced yourself he only meant it as a friendly gesture. It was your shameless twisted mind that had misunderstood it. And you’ve decided to ignore the way he called you pretty. That’s why you’ve decided to sit at your usual seat.

Despite everything, things have been going normally with No Name for your pleasure. He hasn’t acknowledged you really. Which is how normally it is and you’re pleased. You’ve asked him how his day was and he has only just nodded. See, he was just being nice and it was you who made it awkward that day. You mentally slapped yourself for the millionth time at the thought of how wrong you were to interpret something like that.

Everything will definitely be okay if you just apologize to your boyfriend. You plan to do that tonight. Before going to celebrate Daebi’s birthday. It’s finally the day and you really didn’t have a time to dread the moment. Because you were actively busy with being mad at your boyfriend, you forgot to be afraid of going into a shady club tonight.

Well, all the more reasons to apologize to your boyfriend before you die tonight.

“Is he still mad at you?” The voice is so unexpected that your body does a mini jolt. Your head snaps to your left where your new friend sits. “Your boyfriend.” He clarifies without you asking. You chuckle nervously, wishing it would sound like scoffing.

“Why would he be mad?” Ask in return.

“Because I was there. Did he ask you to stop seeing me?”

You take your time at that question. You think it’s impressive how he really knows Hoseok was mad because he was there. Yet, that question feels personal. You’re not that close to discussing things like this.

“Of course, no.” You scoff this time for real. “Why would he do that? He was just upset about something that happened with his friends.” You explain though there is no reason to do such a thing. Your friend just hums.

And there it comes again. A feeling that there is something he’s not telling you. Like he knows something you don’t. It wasn’t about the coffee, was it? No. This is something else. You badly want to question what it is but the class ends before you could. And you change your mind after that. It would sound crazy if you ask something like that anyway. Yet the feeling never ceases. It hangs in the air while you walk back out. It hangs between you when you bid goodbye and be ready to part your ways. It hangs in your mind even when you turn around and walk a few steps away and hear him calling for you suddenly.

You turn around curiously.

“What about the coffee?” He shouts aloud since you’re too far across to talk in a normal voice.

Again?

“I-uh…” You’ve really hoped that he’d forgotten it by now. That he’d let it go. You hate when you have to turn down people. You’re a people pleaser.

“That’s fine if you don’t want to.” He shouts back while you just try to come up with something. You almost take a step forward. A sincere apology is at just the tip of your tongue. “See you later (___)!” Yet he beats you to it. Turns around and walks away. Leaving you to just gape at his retrieving back.

You feel uneasy. An uneasy feeling. But what’s most annoying is the fact that you really can’t pinpoint it. Yet still it is there. He knows something that you don’t.

…………………………

You stand near the bar adjusting the hem of your short dress. Trying to pull it down. You chose this dress and there’s no one else to blame but your stupid self. After a few useless attempts you give up. You stand beside Nina. All of your other friends, including your boyfriend, have gone for a smoke.

“It looks okay? Isn’t it?” Nina snaps you out of your thoughts. You scan the dimly lit club for what must be the hundredth time before answering her. “I mean yeah. Like it looks okay but who knows?” You’re still not completely on board for this idea. If it weren’t for Daebi, you’d rather study your entire degree all over again than be here. True, it really looks like a normal club- just duller than the ones you’ve previously visited and crowded with much older people than young college kids. Yet that doesn’t mean this is an illegal club where all these people are criminals in one way or another.

Daebi can be completely correct. This reputation Elysium has can be just a myth. Something someone made up. Something people like to believe because of the invitation system. You still have no idea how Daebi managed to get you an invitation. She somehow did and now you’re standing here stupidly.

“Ugh, I’m pretty sure nothing’s wrong. All of these people look normal.” Nina adds after your negative response.

“Of course, they are Nina. What do you expect? For these people to kill each other?”

She tries to counter but stops when Jimin joins you back. Closely followed by the birthday girl and Hoseok. You and Hoseok haven’t made up yet. This time it’s his fault. You’ve tried your best to apologize and resolve the issue. It was him who had avoided you saying you should talk about this later. Now you would have to wait until the night is over to patch things up with him.

“See guys? Told you it’s just a myth. This is just another normal club with lots of drinks.” Daebi squeals. Walks to you and drapes an arm around your shoulder.

“How would you know for sure?” You shrug her hand off. You still feel off. Something feels off. Call it a gut feeling. Maybe this feeling has nothing to do with this place since you’ve been feeling this way for quite some time now. Ever since the day Mr. No Name brought your wallet to your house. Daebi clicks her tongue.

“Look around you (__),” She grabs your chin to forcefully make you do as she asks. You take brief glances over at people drinking, dancing, grinding, kissing, making out and doing every other thing they would do in a club. “Can you see anything illegal happening?” Asks. No. That’s the answer. But why on the earth your friends can’t understand that dangers don’t always lie on the surface. These people might seem harmless but there's a fat possibility that someone is carrying a gun in their front pant pocket. Casually. Just like someone would carry their mobile. You try to tell the exact same thing. Hoseok interrupts you before you can, however.

“Oh c’mon, (__). Just fucking loosen up a bit. You don’t have to kill the mood every time. Just grab a drink and have fun.” He barks, making you completely speechless. Really? Shouldn’t he take your side? You would’ve gotten really mad at him again if it wasn’t for Jimin just reassuringly patting your shoulder.

“Hey, it’s really fine (__). We won’t keep you in a dangerous place. C’mon, let’s have a drink.” He guides you toward the bar with the hand on your shoulder. You throw a disappointed glance at Hoseok, which he disregards completely. As if you don’t exist at this moment.

“You guys go ahead, I just want to use the bathroom.” Instead he mumbles. Turns around and almost leaves when Daebi perks up.

“Me too. Coming?” She asks Nina. Not you. Well, that’s fine.

“Nah. Just go ahead.” Nina turns to you. Daebi gives a ‘whatever’ kind of nod before disappearing after Hoseok.

………………………

Night officially started for your party over an hour ago. Yet you aren’t even tipsy. Haven’t even started to feel it. Fair, considering that you’ve been sipping the same glass of wine ever since Jimin brought it to you. This is not how you normally act. It’s unfair of Hoseok to say you always ruin the fun. You know how to have fun. You and he always have fun. An involuntary pout graces your features at the reminder of his hurtful words. It’s just you don’t feel it tonight. At this specific place. You really wish your boyfriend would just understand that.

You take another small sip from your glass of wine. Alone at the bar. All of your friends have gone to enjoy the night with whatever they like to do. You can see Nina and Jimin rocking it on the dance floor from where you are seated. Hoseok and Daebi, however, are nowhere to be seen. Makes you really worried. You want to make sure everyone is okay. You want to keep an eye on each and everyone.

A frown appears on your forehead after you try in vain to catch a sign of your boyfriend or best friend for the ninth time . Maybe you should just give up and get completely wasted.

Yes you should just do that.

With one last heavy sigh you bring the glass to your lips. Almost succeed when a sharp voice interrupts you.

“You might want to slow down with that, young lady.” You just avert your gaze to the owner of that voice. A man. Probably a lot older than you. You disregard his presence and his words as you down the entire glass. “Woah!” He exclaims with an amused smile.

You intend to ignore him further. That’s your plan. Yet you still give him a polite smile just so you won’t come out like a rude bitch. A mistake.

“Next drink is on me but take it slow beauty.” He mumbles in a way which you know that he thinks is charming but sounds comical to your ears. Already turns to the pretty bartender. “One more-”

“No thanks. I’m good.” You stop him before he can continue, drawing his attention back to you.

“Why not?”

“I’m just not in a mood to drink.”

“Now, that is a very obvious lie. You were drinking wine like it was water sun shine. You’re hurting my feelings. Don’t be like that. Let’s just have one drink.” You should’ve thought more about the lies you tell. Too late now. But you really don’t want to accept a drink from a stranger. He doesn’t look shady but just a little bit older. It’s just you haven’t completely let your guard down. You shake your head while almost standing up to leave.

“I’m really good. Thank you.”

Almost. Even before you can place your feet properly on the floor a glass of wine is placed in front of you with a loud thud. You gasp at the unexpected sound. Take a moment to realize what’s just happened. That’s only when you turn your head to look at the man’s face. Dark. Not a single sign of a smile. Your throat goes dry instantly.

“No one says ‘no’ to me princess. A bitch should know her place after all. Now drink up.”

What now?

You gape at the man as if he has grown two heads. This is not good. You should leave immediately. But the man doesn’t look like he’d appreciate you suddenly leaving. You shift your gaze from his face to the drink that has been put on the counter. Then back to the man. He raises a menace eyebrow. You have no idea what he would do to you if you refuse again. You’ve met your fair share of drunken assholes while clubbing. Yet all those assholes were just pathetic college kids and nobody has ever called you a bitch. No one.

This man must’ve looked normal a minute ago but now he seems like someone who could kill someone with his bare hands. “Drink up you little whore.” He suddenly spits out. You inhale a shaky breath. Maybe you shouldn’t show any weakness. Maybe you should argue and stand up and leave with your head held high. But then for your great dismay you undoubtedly notice the silver of metal glinting from the pocket of his coat. If you think your throat went dry earlier now you’re certain you’ve eaten sand. Heart is starting to beat madly. Head is starting to pound violently.

You were right after all. This place wasn’t just having a negative reputation. It’s true. What you’re just seeing in his pocket is undoubtedly a grip of a gun. You’ve never seen one in real life but the movies exist. You know it’s a gun. And somehow you know it’s not just a plaything.

Act cool. Act cool.

You shouldn’t show that you’re scared.

You eye the drink again. Mind swirling around all the possibilities that would occur if you try to just leave. What could he do? Shoot? There are people around here. He wouldn’t be able to get away after firing at a college girl. Would he now? You decide you don’t want to find out. It’s your life. You can’t take a risk. It’s just a drink after all. You can just drink it and then find an excuse to leave. With that thought you just don’t waste any time. Just grab the drink and drown it in one go, hoping that’d be the end of the ordeal. But of course who were you kidding, after all. Just as the glass is emptied, it is filled to the brim again. Then again. And at the fourth drink you decide to slow down, understanding that you downing drinks faster than a thunder won’t be of any help for you at all.

“There you go princess. See, it wasn’t that hard now.” The older man smiles at you which looks like an ugly sneer to you. It must be more than half an hour now. Where the hell are your friends? On top of all, where the hell is your so-called boyfriend? Why’s no one coming to save you? You take a brief glance at the dance floor for what must be the hundredth time. No sign of Jimin or Nina. They’ve disappeared somewhere in between your first encounter with this man and your first drink. It looks like you’re all on your own at this rate. You’d have to come up with something.

“Guess so.. Yeah.” You take another harsh sip. Nervously. Trying to hide the tremble in your hands. “Would you mind if I go to the restroom quickly?” You question hoping him to not take your bait at all. Hundred presently. But then your eyes go completely wide at his response. “Of course not. Why are you even asking?” A chuckle escapes his lips. You, however, don’t wait to ponder your sudden luck. Just as the words leave his mouth you’re on your feet. Already on a half run toward where your head turns. You don’t even check where the bathrooms are. Just in desperate hope to find at least one of your stupid friends. Then just leave this damned place. You may have lucked out once, but that doesn’t mean you will again. You need to get the hell out of this place.

………………..

You rush through the sweaty bodies. Pushing past annoyed people. Your head throbbing painfully. Maybe you’ve drunk too much. Even your sight is getting blurry. You look around in panic. Still no sign of your friends. You’re starting to feel nauseous. Something doesn’t feel right. So far, you've been lucky that the scary man hasn’t followed you. Yet everything feels far scarier to you suddenly. Every man and woman you pass. Every glance they cast your way. Every word they murmur. They all look like they’re about to kill you. Your heart pounds in your ears now. You barely can hear the loud music over the roar in your own ears.

Where are they?

Where the fuck are they?

You mumble an apology to another man you accidentally bump into.

“Watch where you’re going, you little tramp!” He spits. You shrink away instantly. Your headache is intensifying. In your haste to get away from him you bump into someone else.

“Holy shit!” You turn around to find a woman. Her drink has spilled all over her. You probably did that. You try to apologize but she shoves you away before you could. “Move!” Shouts as she does. You lose your balance at the force. Or not. Maybe she didn’t push you that hard, but you’re too drunk to stay on your feets. Your hands try in vain to grab something when you stumble back. You brace for the impact, but it never comes. Instead your back hits something, or someone, saving you from presumably hitting your head. You almost let out a sigh in relief. Almost though. Even before you can begin, you are turned around harshly by your arm.

A whimper escapes you. It’s the same man who called you a tramp. One look at his furious face tells you that you’ve fucked up.

“S-sorry.” You mumble so fast that you stutter pathetically. It’s like your word doesn’t even reach him, however.

“The fuck’s wrong with ya?” He growls. His grip tightens.

Oh, no, no, no.

How did you escape one danger only to end up in another? Why can’t you be careful? Why can’t you just walk straight?

“I- I’m so-”

“Can’t even walk straight, huh? Stumblin’ round like some dumb bitch lookin’ for trouble.”

You really want to say no. Want to argue. But his words are slowly drifting away. Like he’s moving farther away from you.

“What? Too drunk to speak now?” His fingers dig into your arm, yanking you forward. His stinking breath hits your nostrils. You’re going to throw up.

Oh god what’s happening?

You’re sweating like a pig. Sounds around you are getting overwhelming. People’s voices are echoing inside your skull.

Why can’t you find anyone?

Why is this place getting hotter?

“Or…. is this your way of hitting on me you little minx? That it? Ain’t gotta go fallin’ all over me like some desperate little slut. Shoulda just asked, sweetheart.” The gruff man’s voice suddenly comes into your senses.

No. No..

What is he even talking about?

You try to protest weakly. Try to disagree. But words don’t come out. Your throat is burning. So is your chest. Things don’t make sense to you. Yet at the same time you know you’re in danger. Warning alarms ring inside your head. And your head nearly explodes in panic when the man starts to drag you forward. Away from the crowd.

“No..” You finally find your voice. It’s strained. As if you’ve not used it for years. Sounds like it’s not yours. “No..” You try to yank your arm free to no avail. The man’s grip is like iron. Besides, you're in no position to fight.

Could a few glasses of wine do this?

This is not the first time you got drunk. You’ve certainly drunk more than this but have never felt this way. Too fucked up. Too out of it. You have no control over your body. Just your mind in high alert and trying to escape.

“No. Let me go.” Still, you keep trying. Keep trying to free yourself from the harsh, disgusting hand on your arm. It doesn’t work. God, it doesn’t work. Before you know, you are dragged into an empty backroom. Before you know, the man pushes you into a wall. You hit the concrete behind you with a loud thud. A sharp jolt of pain shoots across your body at the collision. As if your spine just snapped. You yelp in pain which he disregards completely.

Instead of worrying about your possible broken back, he instantly throws himself at you. You do your best to turn your head away just before his chapped lips can land on yours. Makes him mad apparently. He snarls something you really don’t hear. But you certainly do feel the sting when his palm hits your face. A loud gasp leaves past your lips. Weak limbs come forward to fight with a man who’s strong like a bull. You try to push the scumbag away. Try to claw at his arm, face, any place you find.

It doesn’t work.

You’re too weak.

The man tangles his rough fingers in your hair. Yanks your head back. You cry out. You can’t even scream. He holds your head in place. You writhe in your place. Trying desperately to wrench yourself away. Your mind screams the words you can’t get out.

No… Don’t.

You don’t even realize that you’ve been crying. At least not until you start to taste your own tears.

None of your efforts succeeds. You feel his breath on your face first. Then his dry lips ghosts over yours. Bile rises in your throat. A strangled sob finds its way out. You close your eyes tightly. Finally accepting the defeat. Brace yourself to feel his rotten lips engulfing yours whole. But then just a millisecond before that happens, you hear a loud groan. Groan in a painful way.

Something wet splashes across your face.

Something hot.

You snap your eyes open. Just in time to find the man being yanked back by a figure. Your attacker's hand leaves your body and hair. This time, instead of grabbing you, he clutches his own neck with both hands. Grumbling. Gurgling.

It takes your shocked brain a minute to understand anything.

A long minute.

Then you see blood. Red, hot blood. Dripping down from your attacker's throat to the floor. Seeping through his fingers. His hands are covered in bright red. Then you hear the choked, wet gasps he is leaving out.

Blood.

Wounded.

You didn’t know it is possible to feel more scared. More terrified. Yet here you are. Eyes wide in horror and not being able to breathe properly.

Blood.

Only one word rings inside your head. Blood everywhere. It was blood that splashed in your face. You press yourself more against the wall desperately just as the man falls into the floor. A loud thud erupts. Your eyes naturally follow the movement. Catching the gruesome image of him writhing on the dirty floor. And you see that a sleek silver metal is buried in the side of his throat. Blood oozing from where it’s swallowed by torn flesh.

A chopstick!

Your heart rate slows down. Vision is starting to turn dark. Your hands unconsciously come up to cover your own mouth. Legs give up. You fall down halfway against the wall when a second figure lunges at the man on the floor. In a blink of an eye the second man pulls out the chopstick from your attacker's neck. Makes blood stream down like a waterfall. Then even without a second thought the newcomer pierces the chopstick through the first’s shoulder. A loud scream erupts from the first. Yet does nothing to stop the man with the chopstick. He pulls it out again. Attacks the other’s chest. Pulls out again. Then stabs a different spot.

“How” Pulls out again. “Dare” Stabs again. “You.” Pulls out. “Fucking” Stabs. “Touch” Pulls out. “Her.” Stabs. Stabs. Stabs. Blood splashing everywhere. Each time a new spot. Merciless weak cries fill the air.

And your hands fail to keep your mouth shut anymore. This time who lets out a weak scream which is nothing but a pathetic whimper turns out to be you. Your eyes wide in horror and body trembling like a leaf in a storm. Yet no matter how weak the sound you make, he hears it nonetheless.

The second man who just pulled out the chopstick once more and ready to attack the man back stops dead at your sound.

Fuck! Fuck, fuck.

You shouldn’t have screamed.

You shouldn’t have grabbed the attention.

It’s already too late, however. That second someone turns his head back. Toward you. A second pass. And at the same time you almost turn around to run away he gets to his feet, abandoning the now wounded man whimpering and crying on the floor. Drops the chopstick to the floor and it clatters against the dirty concrete. Your delayed attempt to run is futile as a pair of hands wrap around you tight. Before you can even make a sound, your face is buried in a broad, heaving chest, its rapid heartbeat pounding against your ear. You yet again fail to make sense of the situation.

What’s happening?

“I’m so sorry. I was a bit late. So sorry (__).”

A voice reaches you. A voice that is breathless. Hands protectively wrapped around your shaking body.

Your brain instantly falls into an alerting mode. The first thought that crosses your mind is that this person is going to hurt you too. Hence, your weak and pathetic attempt to wriggle free. Of course, it doesn’t work. It won’t work. You’re still very much in the same state you’ve been a minute ago. Still too out of it. If anything, you feel more vulnerable now. Growing weaker and weaker by every passing second.

The newcomer, however, starts to gently rock you. Trying to soothe your trembling, writhing body. Shushing you softly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me (__). It’s just me.”

You have no idea who this me is. At least for a second you don’t. Then somewhere in the back of your mind a bell rings. A familiar voice, isn’t it? You’ve heard it before. So close. You know this person. You know him, to be precise.

With a great struggle against his vice hold you manage to turn your head up to catch sight of a black hoodie. You can’t see a face because the face is covered in the said hoodie. You inhale a shaky breath as you recognize him. Sure, you watched him before but it’s only now that things are registering in your mind.

“N-no n-name?”

“Yeah,” He holds you tightly again. You think you hear a hint of joy in his voice. “Yeah, it’s just me. It’s fine. Calm down baby.” He murmurs in your ear.

Baby?

Your panicked mind runs a mile a minute to make sense of the situation. How quickly things are happening. You were just fine half an hour ago. With your friends. And then this happens? And he is here? Why is he here?

It’s just me…

It’s just fine…

Fine !Fine?

What’s fine? Someone tried to fucking assault you. And that someone is now half- dead. He- your damn classmate- brutally attacked him, didn’t he? It’s like a whole another realization that dawns upon you. He stabbed that man with a fucking chopstick. Mr. No Name- a college kid who is just like you did that.

Oh, god!

This can’t be happening right now. You need space. Can’t breathe. You want him to move. Don’t want him touching you. He has blood on his hands.

True, he saved you by doing so. If it weren’t for him, you’d be lying somewhere, unable to fight back, facing the cruelest fate. You’re a teeny bit glad but nonetheless you’re scared to death. A man is dying in front of your eyes. You saw a man with a pierced throat. You saw blood spurting out of his body. Eyes open and becoming soulless.

And the person who caused that,- this kid is saying to you that it’s fine.

No! Nothing’s fine. You want to run away. You need someone who you can truly trust. Need your boyfriend. Need Daebi. Someone who’s not a murderer. You try to push him away. He, however, doesn’t take the hint. Instead of letting you go, he hugs you into his body even tighter.

“It’s fine baby. Just calm down. I’m so sorry.” He places a hand on the back of your head. Holds you so close. So gently. As if you’re made of fine china. As if you’d break if he touches you a little rougher. Buries his face in your neck. His breath hits your skin soothingly. Rocks you ever so gently. Oh, so gently that you almost calm down. Despite all the chaos and the horror of what he’s done, you find sudden solace in his arms. Maybe that’s because you’re familiar with him. Or it’s just how he holds you. Allowing you to sob into his chest. Whatever that is, it could’ve worked perfectly if it wasn't for his next actions. If it wasn’t for the sudden hot, wetness you feel on your neck. And his shaky breath. You snap out of the false sense of protection you’ve been feeling instantly at the sensation of his lips pressing against your skin. Ready to move away.

He doesn’t let you.

“I’m so sorry.” He murmurs again.

“Wh-what are you.. Le-let me?” You stutter. Your still confused, frozen brain struggles to react. You’re so slow on your movements that your efforts on moving away does nothing but expose more of your skin for him to pepper with soft-wet kisses. He kisses every inch of skin he can find. Over and over again. As if he’s going mad.

“So sorry, princess.” He mumbles as if it's some kind of mantra. In between his sloppy kisses. Nuzzles your neck with his nose. Inhales. Groans. Like he’s getting drunk on your smell.

No.

Oh shit!

He likes you.

It’s too late now. You’ve waited too long.

Why does that matter now?

What are you even thinking?

What matters is the fact that a person is dying. You can still hear the gasps he’s letting out. You can still hear the sound of blood flowing out his weak body.

He killed a man. He’s kissing you over a dying man’s body. You shut your eyes tight. In a desperate attempt to find strength. To escape reality. As if everything would change once you open your eyes. Yet as soon as you close your eyes, your mind is plagued with blood. Splitted throat. Wet chokes.

A cry tangles in your throat as you open your eyes back.

You want to run away. Want to hide. You’re going to be sick.

But then his warm lips press on your pulse point. And regardless of your horrified state a shudder ripples through you. A sensation that almost makes your toes curl.

What? What’s happening?

How come you feel that way when you’re so scared? How is it that your body doesn’t comply with your mind?

“Y-you ca-can’t-” Another failed attempt. Another bunch of words that don’t even reach his ears. He seriously can’t be doing that now? Among million other reasons why he can’t, the fact that he almost killed a damn man holds the highest spot. What kind of monster someone should be to be able to kill and then casually forgets it.

Your classmate apparently does. Which means he is that kind of a monster. He’s acting like nothing happens. Like it’s his right to hold you like this. Kiss you like this. He changes the path of his kissing. Trails his lips along your jawline. Toward your cheek. Inching closer and closer to your lips. And for a second time, you tremble like a leaf. Not from fear. No. Purely due to the sensation he’s creating. Your mind is going numb. Your senses are becoming dull.

You’re losing it completely.

Despite what you really want, your body is giving away.

You should shove him away. You should scream at him. You should run away.

But you can’t.

You feel tired. Exhausted. You can’t fight anymore. Not that you’ve been doing an effective job at that previously either. You were already lost. So, you give up. Your hands fall limp between you. You give into the sensation while your mind still screams. While your stomach still churns awfully. While tears still flood down your cheeks and your heart still pounds violently. While you’re still very scared, you do nothing when his lips find yours.

How ridiculous this situation is. He saved you from an assaulter just to become another one. Only different is the way you’re just standing there as his lips are pressed hard against you. For a minute. Then he is moving them. His tongue gently licks along the seam of your lips. You don’t intend to understand the silent invitation and open your mouth. Yet, that’s what you do. Unintentionally. As if your body is doing something you’re very familiar with. You open your mouth immediately. Welcoming his soft tongue to explore your insides. He does that very eagerly. Licking inside your mouth and sucking on your tongue. Groaning. And you can’t stop moaning into his mouth in return.

Can’t stop curling your toes when he roams his hands over your body. Your waits, your back, and your ass. He squeezes your soft flesh and you feel a fire lighten inside you. That fire turns into lava and shoots across your veins when he presses his lower abdomen against your body. Letting you feel the unmistakable hardness inside his denim.

It feels good. No matter how wrong that is, it still feels good. No matter that you’re still terrified and want nothing but to run away, this feels good. Too good to be precise. Ecstatic as he slowly starts to grind that hardness into you. So, you moan again. Moan into the searing kiss. Delwing in the sensation of his hands, hard cock, and his soft lips.

He kisses you sensually. Like a gentle lover. Carefully. Oh, so lovingly.You would’ve believed he loves you if it wasn’t for the situation. The truth is he doesn’t. He’s taking advantage of you. And you feel so helpless.

Why’s no one coming down this path?

How’s no one seeing that someone is wounded?

Oh, god! Someone is dying. The killer is kissing you. He’s holding you with blood splattered hands.

You need to stop this. You should just try again.

And so you do—only for it to be in vain, of course. Trying to shove him away with weak hands. This time, however, after a few efforts he actually pulls away. Just to rest his forehead against you. Sharing the same breath. You hold onto his black hoodie for your dear life. You’ll fall your ass down otherwise. A sob after a sob still escaping your dry lips. You do your best not to look down. To not look at the man. At blood. Instead you try to focus on breathing. Because it has become so difficult.

“You’re fine baby. I’m so sorry.” He brings your attention back to him. You say nothing. You’re not capable. “I promise I didn’t mean to let someone else touch you. I’m sorry I was late.” So, he continues in your dead silence. “It was only meant for me. It was supposed to be just a little dose.” A kiss into your hair. “Just to loosen you up for me. I never meant to scare you so much. Oh, baby-” His grip tightens. “I didn’t mean to scare you, hm?”

A kiss to your forehead.

It’s like your brain works extra slow. It’s like his words come from such a distance that it takes you time to register them.

A kiss to your crown line.

“I really didn’t mean to let someone else touch you. I’m so sorry.”

What did he say now?

Supposed?

A little dose?

A kiss to your temple.

Your heart beat is getting slower. Dots slowly but surely getting connected in your heavy mind.

Only meant for me.

To loosen you up for me.

Little dose! A dose! Loosen up! A dose!

Drugs!

You’ve been drugged.

Suddenly, everything makes sense. The reason for all of this. For your weak body. Why your body doesn’t comply with your mind. He drugged you. The man back there, drugged you. No. No. Wait. It wasn’t him.

It’s this person. Your classmate.

He drugged you!

And then he killed a man. Or tried to.

This time you tremble actually from the fear. A fear that engulfs you whole that you’re certain there’s no way of getting rid of it. Yet you scream. For the first time in this night you manage to get your voice out. A shrill scream. Enough to awaken the dead. You manage to at least make a distance between you two even if you still couldn’t push him completely away.

With your head still violently pounding and spinning you manage to take a step to your side. Not completely knowing what you’re doing. Just wanting to get away. But he’s quicker than you. His hands are on you even before you know it. Holding you tight. Preventing you from running away.

“Hey! Hey! (___), it’s fine. It’s fine now. You’re going to be okay.”

“No. No. Stay away from me!” You shriek. “No.” Your vision is turning dark. In a minute everything turns back into a desperate struggle. You’re struggling to get away. He’s struggling to keep you stay put.

“Baby please! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

What is he even talking about?

“Let me go please.” You mutter under your breath one last time before completely giving up. Your body once again being victim to the extreme exhaustion you’re feeling. He just doesn’t listen to you, however. Says the only things he’s been saying all these time. That you’re fine. And you almost make up your mind to accept your fate. Accept that there’s no way of getting away. Away from this night. This nightmare. You almost believe that you will never be able to wake up. That you're forever trapped in his vice grip. Yet, just as you’re about to fall limp against his hold, a shadow of a figure appears in the doorway. Suddenly. Rushed sounds follow it.

You snap your head toward the sound. Hope bubbling inside you. Hope that is paired with a fear that you’re not getting any help. A fear that everything is about to get worse if that’s even possible. But as you turn your head you’re met with an extremely familiar pair of brown orbs. Panicked. Wide. Face twisted ugly in fear. Panting harshly.

Jung Hoseok!

A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes you immediately. Relief flushes over your every cell.

“Hoseok!” You cry out. In relief. Your tears suddenly turn out to be ones of joy. “Hoseok.” You repeat. Voice a breathless whisper. His eyes land directly on you. His panicked eyes. Then he averts his gaze down. Despite your best efforts you follow his line of vision. Eyes back on the man on the floor. Throat pierced and covered in blood. Your stomach churn awfully again.

“Holy fuck!” Hoseok curses, turning pale like cold ashes. Everything shifts into a frozen stillness following his curse. For a second. It’s like things are happening in slow motion. Like it’s a movie instead of your very reality. Only the club music and distant people chattering fills the air.

“(___), fuck. Fuck, let her go!”

That voice breaks the stillness and everything comes crashing back into motion. You barely recognize that voice to be Jimin’s. Arms around your body tightens like a coiled serpent. Like a trap. Holding you tight. Tight like a drowning man clutching a lifeline. Like he’s afraid. Afraid that you’ll go. As he should since that’s your intention. You thrash against his iron-like grip. Clenching your jaw.

Only now do you realize that Hoseok hasn’t been alone. Somewhere in between the tightening grip around you and your struggle you’ve noted each of your friends one by one.

Jimin is the one who jumps into action first. Who breaks the shock of seeing fresh blood oozing from a dying man first. He lashes at your captivator like an enraged lion. Then just after a split second Hoseok does the same.

A harsh punch thrown in your classmate’s face by Jimin and you feel the grip around you loosens. Then you’re being completely free from the tight hold. You barely catch the sight of Jimin grabbing your nameless friend’s hoodie and the way he does the same to Jimin’s.

And everything happens so fast for you to comprehend. A fleeting hug of comfort and you’re pushed into your best friend’s hand. Hoseok and Jimin tackle down your ex-classmate together. For a skinny, quiet kid, he sure has a lot of strength. Yet is facing defeat against two other men. You hear lots of groans and curses. The sound of bones cracking. You see the livid faces of Hoseok and Jimin. And you think they’re going to kill the kid.

You’re paralysed with fear. Being able to do nothing but just watch.

They’re going to kill him.

Someone else is going to die.

He’s about-

Daebi lets go of you suddenly. You don’t even get a second to process what’s happening before Daebi is barrelling at the mound of human balls on the floor. Then she’s doing her best to yank Jimin off from the kid’s body. Trying to stop him from landing punch after harsh punch in his already battered face. When she fails, she tries to get Hosoek away. While you and a frozen Nina just watch.

“No.” Daebi’s voice mixes into the disgusting noises of bone cracking and whimpering. “No. You’d kill him. Hoseok, stop it.” She tries her best to no avail. Two men don’t even budge. But the good thing is your best friend doesn’t know when to give up either. “There’s someone dying. We-” She yanks from Hoseok’s arm. Says something you can’t hear. Then all of sudden she yells through the top of his lungs.“Someone is fucking wounded Hoseok. We need to go.” That somehow does the trick. Hoseok stops his violence immediately. As if he just remembers the man just lying a few feets apart from them. He turns his head toward the said man. Then at you. You watch as indecision flashes across his eyes. And you think he wouldn’t care. But just as the thought crashes in your mind, Hoseok rushes into his feet. He yanks Jimin apart from the now beaten guy far more easily than Daebi.

“No. That’s enough Jimin. We need to go.” He practically dargs Jimin back. Jimin protests. Violently. But Hoseok manages to drag him away. Away from the kid who’s lying down on the floor. And for the first time you see his face. Face covered in blood. Ruined. Pink pretty lips you’ve grown to admire are splitted. But even in this state you just know he’s breathtaking. You have no time to admire anymore, however. Just after that brief glance, you find your face buried in Hoseok's broad chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry baby.” He mutters into your hair as new sobs ripple through your body. You will never be the same again. Have no idea what’s going to happen next. Yet your friends are arguing. Or at least Jimin and Daebi are. Nina is just staring ahead. Emptily.

“We need to leave.” Daebi hisses hurriedly.

“For fucks sake Daebi, there’s someone dying, we need to help him.” Jimin hisses back.

“Yeah? And what do you think would happen then? That someone would come and give you a fucking medal for saving his life?”

“Then what? We’re leaving him to die?”

“Yes!” Daebi shouts so loud that you wince. “That’s exactly what we’re doing. C’mon let’s go.” She almost turns around but stops when nobody else follows her. No one even moves a finger. “What?” So, she faces everyone again.

“We’re not leaving someone to die, Daebi.” This time it’s Nina who comes to help Jimin. Makes Daebi drags in a heavy breath which she exhales shakily. You watch as your best friend takes a firm step toward Nina.

“If we stay here, trust me, Nina, it won’t be just him who’s dying tonight.” Her gaze wanders over everyone. Slowly. One by one. “That dude,” She points at the man who’s barely hanging there now. You don’t follow her gesture. Just stay in Hoseok’s embrace, shivering. “We don’t even know who he is. What the fuck are we going to do, if he’s a fucking big deal. What if he's a capo? No- no, what if he’s the fucking leader-” She trembles visibly. Oh, she knew the rumors aren’t just rumors, then. But you can’t fight over that now. “Staying here won’t do any good to us guys. We just- fuck, let’s just leave.” She ends her rambling with a desperate plea. “Please.”

This time everyone regards her with shocked silence. Until Jimin tries one more time.

“B-but, we didn’t do anything. We have the guy, we just-” Jimin stops mid sentence. A horrified gasp leaves his mouth. Then a low curse. You find it impossible not to pull away from Hoseok and see what’s going on. Everybody does. Follow Jimin’s vision. “Where the fuck did he.. Go?” Jimin whispers inaudibly. All your eyes land on the spot where the beaten to death kid was laying. Empty. Now in the spot is a pool of blood but nothing else. You gasp aloud.

How did he?

But apparently that’s the least of your problems. Hoseok’s voice reminds you of that.

“Fuck! We need to leave.” He repeats Daebi’s words. In a hurry. You turn to him in disbelief.

“B-but…”

“Baby we need to leave. I don’t want any of us to tangle in this mess. We are going.” He cups your face. You peer at his brown eyes. Comforting. Strong. Panicked, yes but he’s providing you strength. You don’t know about the right thing or wrong thing. You just need to go home. Just to hide. Forget. So, you just nod.

“What about the fucking proofs dude? They’ll fucking find us and we’ll be fucking suspects if we run.” Jimin still disagrees.

“No. Trust me Jimin. As long as we get away from here, no one would know. I’m pretty sure he has millions of enemies who want to kill him and this is a club that covers every shit. We just need to run and save our fucking asses.”

That’s the last thing anyone says. You don’t question anything again. Just allow Hoseok to drag your weak, shaking body back into the crowded club. Through the drunken people and out. You don’t even look around to see if your classmate- Mr. No Name- was there. You no don’t care what happened to him or where he disappeared. You just let your friends guide you back home.

Like you’re in a dream.

……………………………

After a month

“I can’t believe you fucked up that chance Jungkook.” Daebi places her hands on her hips. Eyes warily graze over the pale kid on the spacious bed. A black patch over one of his doe eyes. Face still very much ruined and covered in a dozen plasters. Lips chapped and pale. He looks starved but Daebi knows it’s quite the opposite. He’s been receiving good care. Parents have filthy money, after all. A little lie about an accident covered it all up.

Jungkook scoffs. At least try to scoff since all that comes out is a wince. A wince in pain as he still can’t move his lips. “You left her alone way earlier, Daebi. It wasn’t my fault.” He mumbles in between painful breaths. Turns his dark eyes toward Daebi who’s just standing there casually. As if she’s familiar with the place even though this is her first time at Jungkook’s parents’ house. Daebi does a very successful scoff.

“So, it’s my fault now?” She gestures at herself.

“Yes.” Jungkook grumbles. And Daebi feels a slight shiver at the way his eyes darken. “And that motherfucker’s who thought he could get away after fucking touching her.” That crazed look clouds his eyes again. Daebi saw it that day at the club. A moment before everything went crashing down. A moment before she pointed him in the direction you disappeared with a strange man. A crazed look that screams murder. Destruction. It takes her a moment to collect herself.

“Y-you’re so fucking crazy Jungkook.” She manages to get it out without shaking. “If you hadn't done something so stupid—” A harsh gulp to soothe her suddenly dry throat. “Like, what the fuck dude? Killing someone?”

“He’s not fucking dead apparently.” Jungkook disregards the way Daebi starts to look frightened. Says that with a regret in his voice. This time Daebi does tremble. “And you think that’s stupid?” He questions with a raised eyebrow. “I would’ve fucking skinned him alive if (___) hadn’t interfered.”

Daebi doesn’t answer that. Simply because she doesn’t know how.

He’s regretting that he couldn’t kill him.

He is crazy.

Crazier than she thought when she met him for the first time.

“And you shouldn’t have left her alone that early. What were you thinking Daebi? You were in that much of a hurry to suck Hoseok’s cock?”

Jungkook continues when Daebi doesn’t answer. She flinches at his words. Because, in fact, that was what happened. She was in a hurry to get alone with Hoseok. But that wasn’t her fault entirely. Jungkook should’ve been there.

“Well, you should’ve come early. Besides, if you have managed to take her the first time, then none of this could’ve happened.”

Jungkook straightens up in his bed.

“What first time?” Asks. Doesn’t receive an answer. “Ah.. that first time where you fucked it up by sending her boyfriend home early?”

“That’s not my fault that Nina fucking decided to crash at my place that day. You had more than an hour, Jungkook. Wasn’t that enough.”

“Yes, it wasn’t.”

“Okay, then let’s just say we fucked up, huh? We failed twice. But remember it was me who walked that much of a length to get her into your hands and you lost it.”

“Because, you wanted to help me?” Jungkook finally manages to scoff through the pain.

“That doesn’t matter, Jungkook. We both failed. I don’t know why I came here today. You seem to be doing fine. Good. Let’s not see each other again. Have a great fucking life.” Daebi grits her teeth. This kid makes her scared in a strange way. Yet at the same time he makes her mad nonetheless. It was completely his fault. She managed to steal your wallet. Created a perfect opportunity for him to take you. You were just a girl after all. And Jungkook is undeniably a hot man. Daebi believed that Jungkook would have a trick or two to play hidden up his sleeves when it comes to women. Even if he didn't, that was fine. Daebi wouldn’t have cared as long as Jungkook took you. Made you his. So, Hoseok would be hers. That was the plan. And he- stupid Jeon Jungkook- ruined everything. So, she had to sacrifice her birthday to the mission. When she had suggested Elysium, it had never been her plan to cause anyone any arm. It was not what she wanted. All she wanted was a fun night at a place that is dangerous. Danger gives Daebi a thrill. But since Jungkook failed the first time, she had to make alterations to her birthday plans. And that was ruined too.

Fuck this!

Daebi grabs her bag from the armchair next to her. Almost leave the room when Jungkook speaks up.

“You failed. I didn’t.” He mumbles slowly. Makes Daebi turn around in sudden interest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I haven’t given up, Daebi. I won’t. I just-” He sighs heavily. Eyes getting dreamy. “I- I just need a little time. I will never give up on her.”

A silence falls following his words. Daebi just gapes at his face.

This is interesting.

A spark of hope bubbles inside her.

She was so close to getting what she wanted. Hoseok and you were finally starting to crumble. Her plan was to let Jungkook have you, but it has turned out to be in her favor in the end anyway. You were apparently playing with Hoseok's patience, being stubborn. Being a nuisance. Being a nag. The fight that broke between you two was doing Daebi a great favour.

See now, she knows Hoseok loves her. It’s just he’s a little coward who can’t make a decision. Or to act upon one. He has a heart too good for himself. He doesn’t want to dump you that way. And he doesn’t believe he loves Daebi. Or that Daebi loves him. In Hoseok’s mind, it is just lust. Which isn’t true. Daebi just knows it’s love. Ever since the day she saw him, she has loved him. Too bad that you are an inseparable part of the equation. Too bad Hoseok thinks he genuinely loves you. He doesn’t. If he does, he never would have ended up in Daebi’s bed. Still he believes that and he was so close to breaking off his sexual affair with Daebi. Of course, she has no other options but to do something. That’s when she found Jeon Jungkook. Someone who could understand her feelings. Someone who loves you madly. Like she loves Hoseok.

They both could’ve won if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s sudden thirst for blood.

Hoseok was about to break up with you. Then everything took that damn turn. Daebi had to watch Hoseok rocks and soothe you the entire night. Kissing you over and over. Apologizing for not being there. Whispering sweet nothings to your ear.

Daebi had to endure his harsh words after a week. That they are nothing but a mistake and they should stop. Had to listen to him confessing his true love to you. Had to watch his guilt trip, blaming everything that happened on himself. Had to pretend to be your best friend and not hurt when you became the main character of everyone’s life. The way Hoseok became a doting boyfriend who did his everything to make sure you’re fine.

And she’s getting tired. Fucking tired.

But Jungkook’s words suddenly give her hope.

Just like he gave her hope months ago.

……………………..

Two months ago

“You’re the one who texted me?” Jungkook clenches his jaw. His voice a low, dangerous grumble, that Daebi takes an involuntary step back.

“Y-yes.” Nonetheless she answers without missing a beat.

“Why?” Another growl from the guy hidden behind a hoodie. This time it’s not exactly low. Okay, maybe Daebi has fucked up. The thing is, she doesn’t know the answer for herself. It just happened. She saw an unknown number pop up in your inbox. She was mad at the way Hoseok carried you inside the room. As if he hadn’t just fucked the life out of her a minute ago. So, she replied. Pretending to be you. She didn’t know who the person texting you was. She just texted back. Maybe deep down she expected to cause trouble between Hoseok and you. But then she found out who was texting. She found out about Jeon Jungkook. Thanks to her extensive research skills.

And then she got an idea. In between her sneaky texting with him, whenever she got a hold of your phone, she realized that he obviously likes you. That’s where the idea struck in. Hence the reason for this meetup. A quick text to meet her here.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” This time the guy shouts so loudly that Daebi jumps on her feet. This is a bad idea.

“I don’t know.” She shouts back.

“For fucks sake, bitch!” The guy- who she now knows to be Jeon Jungkook- takes a hurried, threatening step toward her. Fast and unexpected that she almost loses her balance. Ends up balancing herself on the rusty fence behind her.

“No. Wait.” She brings her hands forward. Stopping the guy from coming any nearer. He listens surprisingly. Halts his steps for a beat. “You like her, don’t you?” Daebi asks hurriedly. A silence.

“What’s that for you?”

“I would like to help you.”

Another silence. A long one. A very long one before he takes a step back. Brings a hand up to push his hoodie back. Looks Daebi dead in the eye. And her breath hitches. It’s ridiculous how Daebi has to bite inside her cheek to not to gasp at the sight.

He- if nothing else- is freaking beautiful.

Daebi has thought he had a scar or something in his face that made him hide his face. But this? This isn’t a type of face someone should hide.

“Why?” He questions again, making her come down to earth. She opens her mouth to answer but he beats her up to it. “Because you are in love with her boyfriend?”

The breath gets knocked out of Daebi’s lungs. A loud gasp escapes her. Eyes wide and jaw dropping to the floor, she presses herself more against the rusty fence. Nobody knew. Not Jimin. Not Nina. No one. So how could he-

“What made you think I need your help Daebi? (___) would be ecstatic to hear what her best friend and boyfriend have been doing behind her back. I don’t need your help. I can manage for myself.” A sly smirk appears on his face. Daebi almost forgets to reply at her shocked state. Despite the urge to ask how he knows, she decides to play the cards. And win, of course.

“What made you think that just telling her about us would make her fall for you? What are you going to do? Become her pathetic shoulder to cry?” She finally pulls away from the fence behind her. It’s now Daebi’s time to smirk when Jungkook’s smile slowly starts to disappear. “And you think that would make her love you? Oh, Jungkook, she loves Hoseok a little too much for that to happen.” Daebi takes a step forward. Now in confidence. She starts to take part in the game as well. “She never even intended to reply back to you-”

“How would you know?”

“I’m her best friend, of course, I know.”

“You’re wrong. She already likes me.”

“In your fucking dreams, Jeon,” Fuck! She shouldn’t have said that. Jungkook’s eyes turn dark as she watches. Dark and empty. Crazy. A shiver runs down Daebi’s spine at that look. “Listen to me,” Yet she manages to hide that shiver. Manages to appear confident. “She damn loves Hoseok. Even if you go and tell her that he’s been cheating on her, that’s going to do nothing but breaks her heart. You-” She points a finger at the kid in front of her. “Are nothing but the pathetic kid she decided to pity,” That crazed look intensifies. She’s playing with fire. One wrong move, and she’d burn. “It’s just pity, Jungkook. She pities you. But-” Daebi holds a hand up at the right moment Jungkook tries to say something. “Maybe we can change that. Let’s get this clear. I want Hoseok and you want (___). I’ll help you and in return you’ll help me. Take her away from Hoseok. I know you love her and maybe you can treat her better.”

Jungkook’s crazed eyes immediately brighten..

Oh, he’s crazy.

But also stupid.

Daebi just knows that she hit the jackpot with those words.

“And if you don’t believe me, just try asking her out for a coffee. See if she would agree even on friendly terms.” Yet she continues to play. She has an idea after all. All she needs is for Jungkook to comply. She waits a minute to see what he would say. And just like she knew his face goes a slight red. A warm red that makes him look adorable.

“H-how?”

“What do you mean, how? Just ask her out.”

“I just can’t do that. What if she just-”

“Reject you? And stop talking to you ever again?” Daebi raises one of her shaped eyebrows. Jungkook says nothing to that. “Well, you shouldn’t just let her do that then. You really love her, so make sure she knows. I’ll find a perfect opportunity for you to be alone with her. What do you say?”

There it is. Daebi’s meticulously crafted plan to make you fall in for someone else. She can’t think about someone else other than this person in front of her to be honest. She waits patiently until he agrees.

“I can ask her out during a class.”

Then he answers, much to her dismay. Daebi hadn’t expected him to disagree. Hence, a moment of hesitance on her side. Only for a moment, though. Daebi is a woman who knows what she does, after all. There’s no way she would just back up.

Here’s the case. It would be alright to let Jungkook play his game alone. But the thing is Daebi knows you like the back of her hand. You are in love with the same man as she is. And you will never fall for someone else. Not that easily. That’s why they need a plan. Like Daebi offers. See, Jungkook is stupid.

“Well, then she would have the perfect chance to say no and walk out. Now we don’t want that, do we Jeon Jungkook. Trust me this once. Just try asking her and-” Daebi stares at the innocently crazed look in this man’s eyes. Maybe he would get angry at her. Maybe she shouldn’t complete her sentence. Now it’s too late to back down, however. “- and- if she says no then you can make sure she- uh… let’s say… understand that you love her.”

Silence.

Utter, deafening silence.

And the threatening look he gives her.

Then, at last, after what feels like years, he gives a nod.

“Of course, she’ll understand that I love her.”

“Perfect.”

…………………….

A month after the incident (At Jungkook’s parent’s house)

Jungkook looks into Daebi’s hopeful eyes. For some reason, this woman disgusts him. Probably because she’s hurting you. You don’t know it yet, but she is. But she’s a useful ally and he can’t deny that.

I want Hoseok and you want (___).

She had said. But she was wrong. She wants Hoseok but Jungkook needs you. It’s not just a want. Not anymore. Now after that one taste. After he held you. Kissed you. Smelled you. The need has become feral. He won’t give up. Not ever. Even if it takes years.

“You should stick to what you’re good at, Daebi. Being a bitch. Let’s be sure to see each other again someday.” Jungkook tries to smile. Daebi hesitates for a moment. Then as if she knows that this isn’t the time, she turns around. Walks away. Without another word. And Jungkook falls back onto his bead.

Ready to lose himself in thoughts of you.

Oh, he’ll definitely treat you better.

And he’ll wait till the day he can do so.

END

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I planned on writing smut here but then got a better idea (trust me)

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millersfinest · 2 months ago

Text

untethered⁶ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 8.9k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three (you’re here!), chapter four , chapter five , chapter six (you’re here)

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: lmao flip phones, r and ellie might have beat the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, some vulgar language, jealous!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink), ellie being insecure a bit, tommy and joel being brothers, r being a little self-deprecating, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, jealous ellie, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, abby is a plot device lmao, hella angst, rich!abby (one of r’s evil exes), repressed emotions, a flirty/horny cliffhanger-ish.

note: thank you guys for flooding my inbox w untethered ch 6 demands…. i hear you, i see you, i understand you… AND HERE’S THAT CHAPTER!!! im sorry for making you guys wait so long. it wasn’t easy writing this chapter, and i still feel like it sucks, but i hate keeping you guys waiting. like i genuinely feel bad 😞. theres like one paragraph that i love in here and thats's it... but as always, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter… next chapter (and final chapter) should be even more angsty, and hopefully, sexy. bisouu my loves <3 (if something doesn't make sense... yes it does)

The smell of broiling honey ham filled your nostrils. Humored voices of your father and Joel echoed from the outside as they grilled their sirloins over burning charcoal. You set the counters with the food that was already cooked and ready to eat, leaving them out like it were a buffet. The warm desserts were placed after the savory vegetables plated on some of your mother’s finest china. You and Maria waited for the ham, as it was the last thing to be ready—she wanted it to be fresh.

During this time, you changed into your evening clothes, which was none other than a pair of overall shorts, a white frilly crop top, and your cowboy boots. Clean ones, of course.

You haven’t seen or heard from Ellie since your little squabble. Joel had come in with a nicely cooked pie in his hands, without her, claiming that she had to make a quick run. Then, you noticed Cat was gone, too. Perhaps, there was some correlation there. You didn’t want to pester because of how tender everything was after your confession. That didn’t mean you weren’t curious, though. While you felt an immense pressure lifted from your shoulders, there was an underlying level of an unnerving feeling.

Old habits die hard, they say. And you find that to be true.

“So’s… your friend still comin’, honey?” Maria checks for the crispy brown on the shell of the ham in the oven. “Or is that called off since your realization…”

In the midst of sorting out your mother’s finest plates, you paused. “Shit,” You cursed, clenching a fist and shutting your eyes, tightly. Abby was still coming over for dinner—you completely forgot all about that! Fuck. You looked at the time on the oven, squinting your eyes. 5:57. “Is it too late to cancel on her?” You muttered, peering at your mother.

“What time did you tell her to be here by?”

“6-ish…”

Maria took in a deep breath, glancing up at her ceiling. “To be frank, Bug,” She inhaled through her teeth. “At some point you gotta throw in the asshole towel—“

There was a knock on the door. You cringed, gritting your teeth. “Please, can you answer it?” You beg, furrowing your eyebrows.

“No.” She deadpans.

“Well, I can’t… Because— because I have to go help dad and Joel with the steak.” You pressed your lips into a line, preparing to walk out to the back porch. You didn’t know if the culprit of the door knocking was Abby, but all the odds were pointing to her. If it were Ellie, she wouldn’t have knocked. And, if it were Cat, she’d be behind Ellie.

Before you could get far, she tugged on the back of your overalls, pulling you to a stop. “Answer the damn door.” Maria commanded, flashing her stern, bright eyes at you.

You pouted, stomping your foot. Nervousness arose in your chest, tightening and constricting. With a sigh, you approached the front door. When you pulled it open, the sight of a tall, muscular blonde grinning at you—caused a knowing smile creep onto your face. “Abby,” You sighed her name, taking in a deep inhale, leaning on the door.

A bottle of wine was held in her hands. “I hope I’m not too early.” She chuckled with a hint of nervousness. It was sweet.

“No… Not at all.” You ran your tongue over your lips, awkwardly reaching to hug her. You slid your arm around her waist, instead of her neck like usual—pressing your sides together, platonically. As if she were an acquaintance. Don’t think she didn’t take notice to that. “Come on in.” Gently, you take the bottle from her hands, peering at the label. It was a red wine, Pinot Noir, not your favorite.

You shut the door behind her, sighing once it clicked with your hands braced against the cool wood. Like that could cure the queasiness building in your stomach. With dragging legs, you walked her to the kitchen. Where your mother feigned unawareness. “Maria, this is my friend, Abby.” You introduced her without focus, setting the bottle on the kitchen counter behind the desserts. The use of your mother’s name was you trying to quip at her for making you answer the door.

She tucked her long, golden hair behind her ears, reaching a hand out to shake mother’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to put a name to a face.” Maria spoke, firmly taking hers. “How did you meet my daughter?” She followed up, quickly.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing under your breath. That was question was irrelevant to ask. She was asking her with the tone of a protective parent, but Abby was only ever going to be a friend—especially, after the last few days.

“We met at a fundraising event last year. My dad, he was a top bidder, and her agent, Isa, was a very persistent businesswoman.” Abby chortled, charmingly. She always managed to slip her financial status within her conversation—she was good at it. In that statement alone, she announced to your mother just how much she knew you. Enough to know the name of your agent, enunciating Isa’s name in a way to exploit your closeness—because how would she know how grueling that woman was at times? As well as letting her know that she could support you in ways others probably couldn’t.

My dad, he was a top bidder.

What the fuck did that matter? Her presence alone was getting under your skin; more than it ever had. And you weren’t sure if it was her fault, or your own.

You yearned for the girl who claimed to love you earlier in the day. That’s you’re fuckin’ problem. Always wanting to be perfect— but you’re not! Not even close. And I fucking love you for it. You could hear her raspy voice crowding over Abby’s friendly words. How Ellie achieved simultaneously calling you out, while passionately confessing her love for you—again—seamlessly… You’ll never know.

“Abby,” You spoke up. “Why don’t you help set the table? I’m gonna go check on the steaks… Maybe, after, I can give you a quick tour before dinner.” The only way to survive that was to push through—make her feel at home, try not to be weird.

“Sounds great!” She rubbed her hands together, excitedly. You hand her the delicate plates, giving a smile that barely met your eyes.

On the way toward the porch, you make eye contact with your mother. Curt. Stern. Irritated. Maria didn’t care to give a reaction—you must lie in the bed you made. Even though, you didn’t intend to forget to call things off with Abby. It’s been a very busy, dramatic two days.

Slipping through the back door, you look for the comfort of your father’s eyes. “Bug! Come taste this!” Tommy clamped his tongs, motioning to his tray of steak.

“I think you should taste mine first—“

“No! She’s my daughter— she’s tastin’ mine first.”

You waved a dismissive hand, chuckling under pouty lips. “I’ll taste both, but… I have to ask you somethin’ first, Joel.” Your face fell into a serious expression.

His brown eyes twitched, amused features melting from his aged face. “Yeah…”

“Ellie’s coming back, right?” Your fingers intertwined with themselves, while you chewed on the soft skin inside of your mouth. “The secrets out now, so… She can come back.” You shrugged, childishly. “And dinner’s gonna be ready any minute now— mom’s only gonna hold off for so long. She likes her ham hot.” Words flooded from your glossy lip, followed by a timid gulp.

“What made you think she wouldn’t come back, sweetheart?”

“It’s not like you explained where she went, Joel.” You deadpanned. “I was left to my own devices— as in, my own dysfunctional brain. You know what happens when I do that.”

He pursed his lips, fighting the grin he wanted to share. Joel glanced at his brother, huffing. “You didn’t ask, either, Bug.”

You paused, crossing your arms. “Did you ever consider that I didn’t want to? If you haven’t noticed— which I know that you have— she’s pissed at me.”

Joel inhaled, cutting off a piece of his steak for you. “I’m not pissed at you, though.” He hands it over to you on a fork, and you take it mindlessly. You weren’t known for having anger issues, but it seemed as if Joel was testing you.

“Joel, can you stop being a dick and tell me where she is?” You whined, childishly, before putting the square piece of meat into your mouth, chewing with identifying eyebrows. You looked up at the darkening sky, humming. His piece blossomed with flavor. It was a little tough, but you didn’t mind it because of how flavorful it was. “This is… Great. A little tough—” The voice of your father cut you off, mid-thought. Joel shrugged, nudging Tommy’s shoulder, teasingly.

Tommy scoffed, cutting a piece for you. “He manipulated you into trying his steak first— here’s mine.” He gasped, leaning the fork your way.

With a shrug, you took the fork, pulling the meat from the prongs with your front teeth. You hummed, again, peering at your father with wide eyes. Tommy’s was more tender, with a softer, pinker inside between the char. “Okay…” You roll your tongue in your mouth. “Whichever one of you tells me where Ellie is first, wins.”

“Honey, that’s not fair—“

“She’s dropping off Cat at the train station. I suggested they break up, and I’m sure they did— Ellie should be on her way back by now.”

A mischievous grin coursed over your features that were being bitten by the crisp, autumn air. “Silly, silly, Joel.” You shook your head. “You win on flavor… Dad, you win on texture— meaning overall, my favorite is yours. Congratulations.” You pat your fathers’ shoulder, pressing your lips into a tight smile.

You pivoted on your feet, chewing on the inside of your lips in thought. Ellie was dropping Cat off at the train station—you wondered what brought her from the ledge of revenge to return home on Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, you didn’t get the chance to apologize to her for your thoughtless behavior. But… Partially, you were relieved that you didn’t have to face her. However, there was a pull in your gut that you had to apologize regardless of her absence.

It was a tug of war with your morals and ego.

Basically, you snatched the screen door open, huffing and getting the attention of the chatty blonde and your mother. She was chewing on a piece of ham, moaning in delight. “Mrs. Miller, I hope you don’t mind if I have more than one serving later…”

“There’s plenty of ham to go around, hon.” She waved a hand, the ends of her lips curling.

Your eyebrows jut together, but you covered that small change of expression with a tight smile. “You ready for that tour, Abs?” You snapped your fingers. It was an awkward and very rare movement from you, but it was barely noticed. Not by Abby, at least.

She wiped her lips with a napkin, dusting her hands on her tight jeans. “If you don’t mind?” Abby politely spoke to your mother, and for a moment, it didn’t bother you. A few months ago, these little moments were what you wished for. You envisioned her eating your mom’s cooking with a smile, conversing with her in your childhood home—but she didn’t want that. It was bitterly humorous how much of a natural she was in the scope of things.

Maria nodded, giving you an off glance, and jutting her blonde eyebrows upwards. You took her hand, dragging her out the front door, shoving through the screen door. Once you were out in the brisk, autumn air, you slid your hand from hers—crossing your arms over your chest like a shield of some sort.

“I thought your bedroom would be the first stop…” Abby chortled to herself, glancing down at you. However, you barely reacted. Perhaps, she was joking or jesting—trying to make you laugh.

Internally, you cringed. “My bedroom is the least fascinating thing here.” You narrowed your eyes at her, leading the woman down the porch. “So, what interests you the most? Horses? Goats? Cows?” You perk an eyebrow, peering up at her. Eyes switching between her semi-awkward stature and the background of the front of the house. You yearned for the dull high beams of Ellie’s truck.

“Horses are cool…” She nodded, surveying your features, trying to determine your thoughts. Abby has never been so focused on you, and frankly, it made you feel weird. A part of you wanted to relish in the fact that she was giving you the energy you had been wanting from her all along. But the wound that was severed by the touch and attention of your past lover—nothing could compare! It would be greedy for you to welcome this modified version of Abby Anderson. Deep down, if it came down to it, you’d choose Ellie over Abby; no questions asked.

“My dad, he has a soft spot for animals… The last time I saw a horse I was, like, fifteen.” Abby continued, while you led her toward the horse barn. “He took me to some ranch for my birthday.”

You hummed, raising an eyebrow. “It wasn’t this one, right?” A chuckle fell from your lips, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your overalls.

Abby guffawed, pushing a straying piece of her hair behind her ears. “No, it wasn’t this one. The ranch I went to, their horses were very easily frightened—which was odd because their whole shtick was horse-riding.” She deepened her eyebrows at the memory, shrugging her shoulders. “I almost fell off one of ‘em.”

“Geez, Abs.” You puffed air from your lips. “Well, my parents have always spent lots of time training these horses— so, you have nothing to be worried about.” Your fingers grazed the material of her shirt on her arm, pressing your lips into a smile. “The only one that isn’t formally trained is Sarah, but she’s only a few weeks old. And to be honest, she takes to new people very well.” As you approached the barn, a few of them still grazed around. It was Shimmer and Sarah out along the fence, and Hamlet sort of just watching them.

“Alright, I’ll have to trust you.” She pursed her lips.

“I’d never lead you into the fire, Abby…”

You opened the gate, walking into the enclosure of the barn. Abby appeared apprehensive about walking into their space. Her previous experience with a horse must’ve truly affected her. Warmly, you held out a hand for her—giving her the option to take it. You wiggled your fingers, sporting a slightly teasing smile. Abby took your hand, firmly, holding onto your hand as if she never wanted to let go. Spark.

Her fear was endearing; it was like seeing her in a different light. How confusing.

“Over there, that’s Shimmer and her baby Sarah. They’re both the most affectionate. Sarah takes after her mother in that way. And lingering off to the side… That’s Hamlet—he’s a bit of a loner. He likes to walk around and keep an eye on everyone.”

“Like a protector?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” You nod, still holding onto her coarse hand. “I could introduce you to Shimmer? Like I said, she’s super sweet— I’m sure she’ll adore you.” You wanted to give her the option because that was just the type of person that you were. Despite your flip-floppy relationship, in a sense, you allowed her admittance of a small fear to soften your heart to her. The tethering of your hands, the feeling of leading her—controlling her, guiding her—it gave you a sense of comfort. It was a connection that you were waiting for. However, still, it didn’t feel the same compared to the auburn-haired artist. Now, that there was a chance to compare.

Her palms were too coarse, more focused on her inner knuckles, remnants of her history with heavy lifting. While Ellie’s exposed her love of physical art, music, drawing, painting. The callouses relied on her fingertips rather than her palms—and for some reason, that mattered more to you.

With her hand in yours, you lead her toward Shimmer, cooing as you approached her. You muttered sweet words to the much shorter horse, Sarah, before guiding her hand to touch Shimmer. You palm over the back of her hand to reassure that Abby was safe—that she wasn’t going to hurt her.

You weren’t leading her into the fire.

Her soft, blue eyes gleamed at you, but it was hard to notice at first as you were focused on Shimmer. Your other hand scratched at the side of her neck, burrowing your nails under her coarse fur. A nervous tick; an attempt at ignoring the harsh gaze of the blonde next to you. Abby’s dilated irises penetrated the side of your face with the weight of a glare. You swallowed a lump in your throat, averting your eyes from Shimmer’s copper fur toward her enamored features.

There wasn’t much time for you to take in her look of yearning before she enveloped you into her arms, attaching her lips to yours. She shared her warmth with her firm arms cradling your bare ones, and it did, in fact, warm you up. But it wasn’t warm. Although, your arms automatically wrapped around her shoulders—fingers imbedding into her fine, blonde hair—you allowed her touch to consume you. Her desperate touch. Her lips plead against yours, pleading for you to dive into her as she wanted you to. As you used to with fervor. Abby noticed your lack of enthusiasm, or more so attempt to replicate your past enthusiasm. She prided herself on her intelligence, meaning that she knew something had changed between the two of you. Either you gained more self-respect for yourself, or there was someone else.

Someone who touched you better than she did. Someone who had the time to love you how you wanted to be loved.

Off in the dark, a truck pulled onto the graveled driveway of the younger Millers’ home. When she put the car in park, leaned her head against the stirring wheel, releasing a groan of relief. The trip to the train station was long, and initially silent. Until Cat became livid enough to make Ellie pull over for an hour. She was sobbing, screaming, unleashing her pent-up anger on the artist—and deservingly so; Ellie knew that much. Debatably, it was one of her best fuckups because it brought you back to her.

It all began with the tempting of a fruit. The garden of Eden—your quivering lips in a filthy, bar bathroom. Historians call that the fall of man, however, ever since she succumbed to you, she’s felt higher than she ever has. A burning joint was nothing compared to you.

Ellie’s poor decision making was worth Cat’s wrath if it brought her back to you.

But there was a lingering pressure that haunted her mind like a juvenile insecurity. A two-syllable word that was a poltergeist in her mind—fickle. Was the reigniting of a fire, the fire that Ellie sparked, received for the sake of receiving. Maybe, you didn’t love her like you claimed—but that didn’t make sense. Not for you!

The disorganized artist worried and worried and worried. When her dull high beams reflected off the white, farmhouse ahead of her; her nerves only increased. There was this need to prove herself to you that she couldn’t shake.

After gathering courage, she hopped out of her truck, slamming the door to release the energy that harbored at the pit of her belly. Ellie shoved the key into the driver’s door, locking all of the doors with a huff. Her toes pivoted, hands sliding into her front pockets as she approached the house—mentally readying herself to see your face again. The last time the two of you spoke, she proclaimed her love for you despite your blundering imperfections. Ellie was sure that you didn’t take well to that; she needed to explain!

Her beat-up converse crunched over the gravel; she could feel every pebble under her deteriorating sole. In the dark, her earthy eyes squinted in the direction of the barn—to get a look at the grazing horses she spent time with earlier. Ellie wanted to check up on them from the distance in which she walked. However, she was met with a sight that burned her from the inside out.

It was you wrapped in the arms of the same woman from the bar. Tall in her stature, in a black shirt that hugged her protruding muscles perfectly. Long, glimmering, golden hair that your fingers punctured. To feel a combination of emotions was an understatement.

Her fingers tingled up her slender arms, lips arching in disgust. “What the fuck is happening…?” Ellie muttered with grit, starting to stalk toward the house, scoffing under her breath. But, before she reached the stairs to the porch, she turned on her feet again. Consumed with frustration, she began to lead herself toward the horse barn with stiff shoulders and balled-up fists.

Ellie appeared on the opposite side of the fence than you and Abby with a look in her eye that could be confused for estrangement. While you were already breaking apart, placing your hand on Abby’s firm chest, unable to meet her eyes—afraid to expose your apprehension. The artist’s appearance caused you to nearly jump out of your boots. You jumped a few inches from the taller blonde woman, placing your fingers over your glistening lips, ruminating with regret.

“I’m afraid we haven’t gotten the chance to meet— I’m Ellie.” Her raspy voice was taut, and too formal. It was barely the voice that you were used to. She failed to offer a physical greeting, like offering her hand; she just kept her hands had her sides.

You hid your face in your hands, cursing to yourself. Fuck. Fuck. Abby lips parted, awkwardly. “Uhm, Abby Anderson… I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her slender eyebrows jutted upwards, and she held out her hand, but wasn’t met with warmth. It was true that she knew about Ellie—the past version of her, at least. She’d heard the story of her poking and prodding at you in your youth, but even with that, you never spoke ill of her. By the time you met Abby, there was a level of accountability taken over the situation that didn’t exist years before.

She was nothing more than a story about your first love.

Ellie glanced at you, bitterly. “Yeah, I’m sure you have…” She ran her earthy eyes up Abby’s tall, muscular figure with a frown.

“Ellie—” Her voice cut you off before you could speak, causing you to look off to the side in contempt.

“Dinner’s ready, right? We should probably head inside… Wouldn’t wanna leave Maria waiting.” The auburn-haired woman stalked off before either you or Abby had the chance to react. You sighed, barely sparing the blonde a glance before following behind her. A frown pressed deeply onto your lips, mind racing behind your shifting, watering eyes. Abby muttered a ‘what the hell’ under her breath, smacking her hands against her thighs. But you didn’t say anything, just gnawed on the inside of your lip, anxiously. The tables turned too fast for your liking.

The auburn-haired artist didn’t care to hold the screen door open for you and your guest, quickly entering the house. Tommy and Joel were inside sorting the steaks out in a singular disposable tin pan. They looked up simultaneously, like brothers, at the sight before them. Joel squinted at the sight of a fuming Ellie, or the sight of her trying to hide her frustration and anger. And Tommy looked to you with a similar look, and a simple jut of his eyebrows at the blonde woman behind you.

“Steak! I’m fucking starving.” You heard Ellie mutter, walking to the counter after taking a plate from the dining table.

A sigh left your lips while your father handed you an empty plate, but you passed it over to Abby—still, not sparing her a glance. Then, he handed you another one. The blonde man leans down, speaking in your ear while your mother tried to break the awkwardness of Abby’s presence. “Something happened?” He muttered, putting food on his plate.

“Mhm…” You glanced at him with wide, weary eyes.

Somehow, everyone found themselves sat at the dining table: you between Abby and your mother, and Ellie between Tommy and Joel—you were looking straight at each other. You pleaded with your eyes for her not to react; that you could explain if you were given the chance. But that was too much to say with only a pointed gaze.

“So, Abby, what do you do?” She asked the blonde beside you, cutting her steak, forcefully.

“I’m a surgeon— an intern at Bellevue Hospital.” She nodded, forking the vegetables on her plate.

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Tommy nodded, he glanced at her. His comment made Ellie’s eye twitch, subtly. “I have a friend who works in the medical field— have you figured out your specialty yet, or…”

Abby hummed, sipping water from a shiny glass cup, looking over the rim to meet your father’s eyes. “Not quite. My dad’s a general surgeon, so that interested me the most— but the more I work with surgeons under different specialties, the more I find myself interested in other things.” She swallowed, blinking. “Like, now, I’m considering orthopedic surgery.”

“That’s the one with the bones, right?” Joel questioned, partly chewing on his food.

“Yes, sir. That’s the one.” She chuckled, leaning her forearms on the table.

You watched Ellie take a gulp of her beer before speaking once more. “So, if you’re a surgeon… And y/n’s a writer— how’d the two of you meet?”

Maria smiled, glancing at her husband. “Well, Ellie, they met through her agent, Isa. At an event— what was it? A gala?”

“A fundraiser.” Finally, you spoke up to correct, holding up a finger that proclaimed your usual know-it-all behavior. Then, you reached for your wine glass, taking large gulps to down the substance—hoping it’d ease your uneven temper. You noticed that your lover, the auburn-haired one, had played the word fundraiser on her tongue. Under her breath, she talked to herself as if she was mocking the way you said the word.

The muscular blonde beside you cleared her throat, leveling her bright eyes onto the woman in front of you. “What do you do, Ellie?” Abby wondered with a barely noticeable sneer, but you caught it.

From the corner of your eye, you peered at her, stiffening your frame.

Her round, olive eyes glared at her—a glare that nobody at that table could miss. Everyone but Abby knew Ellie through and through; her anger couldn’t be hidden. In fact, she was the last person at that table who could ever hide her anger. “I’m an artist.” She curtly responded.

“So, you draw?”

“And she paints.” You fill in, turning your head in the direction of your guest. Her inquiry seemed backhanded—passive aggressive—and that struck a nerve. As if drawing was insignificant. “She’s really good at it.” Your eyes meet hers and for a moment her harsh, green eyes softened.

“Have I seen any of your work anywhere?”

“You don’t seem like a coffee shop person, so I doubt it.” Ellie grimaced, rolling her eyes. “I’m getting another drink.” Abruptly, she stood out of her chair, to walk into the kitchen that was hidden behind a wall and corner. The wooden legs screeching against the floor, causing you to cringe.

Abby shrugged, peering at you with a slight curl to her lips. “I love coffee.”

You scoffed, shutting your eyes. Without saying a word, you stood to your feet to follow her into the kitchen. Before you slipped away, you managed to slide your fingers along your guests’ shoulders as a way of reassurance—mainly so she wouldn’t get the urge to follow you.

When you entered the kitchen, Ellie was found with her hands braced on the counter and her head hanging low. The heels of your cowboy boots clicking against kitchen floor, slowly. Apprehensively. Nervously. You played with your fingertips, puffing air from your lips. “Ellie…”

“What the fuck was that?” Her eyes met yours, stressed and irritated with striking red veins.

You shrugged, pressing your lips into a line. “I was sticking up for you—“

“That’s not what I’m talkin’ about and you know that…” She scorned, barely even blinking her eyes. They bored into you in a way that almost petrified your frame.

You swallowed, casting your eyes up to the ceiling, guiltily. “It just happened.”

“It just happened?” She perked a scarred eyebrow, chortling, dryly. “It just fucking happened— I bet you could say the same for what happened between us, too, huh?” Ellie turned her body toward you, keeping her other hand leaning on the counter. Her voice was level, trying to keep the conversation down so other wouldn’t hear it—because even when she was angry, she still felt the need to shield you. Or more so, keep your relationship problems undercover. “Tell me, y/n… Am I fucking idiot? You made this big fuss about me breaking up with Cat, and the second I do, I see you eating Abby’s fucking face!”

“I wasn’t eating her face…”

“Semantics!”

“It was out of nowhere— I didn’t ask her to kiss me, Ellie!” You tried with a deep furrow in your brow, lips quivering. “It’s just… It’s just we have history—“

She laughed, bitterly.

“We have history and she’s stuck in a cycle I haven’t had the chance to break.”

Ellie squinted her eyes at you. “What the hell does that even mean?” Voice pulled taut, stepping closer to you. “You said that if I got rid of Cat, you’d get rid of Abby.”

“I forgot she was coming! Did you forget the day we had?!” The space between you was closing in the heat of frustration. “We didn’t exactly end on good terms earlier— excuse me for letting something as minuscule as Abby attending dinner to slip my mind.” You rambled with a secretive voice. “I had a very eventful day—“

“And you think I didn’t?”

You groaned under your breath, bunching your hands into fists at your sides. “I never said you didn’t… I just said that I did. There’s a lot on my mind.” A sigh fled your lips, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. “You know, I told my parents about us— right after our argument, because I couldn’t let them hear it from you or Cat.” Your voice softened, peering into her dilated eyes. Your trembling fingers tethered to the cotton that covered her arm, sliding down, attempting to reach for her hand. “I made peace with what we did… Because I wanna be with you, Els.” The choice to quote her own words wasn’t intentional, it was your truth.

When she had scolded you in your own bedroom, it wasn’t a great feeling, but she wasn’t wrong. You needed to stop wanting to be perfect all the time—nobody makes the best decisions every chance they get. Sometimes people fuckup and that’s okay.

The image of you searching her eyes made her heart melt. She wanted to fall into you—to kiss you, and say everything was fine… Even if it wasn’t. Ellie felt your hand creeping into hers. Your soft fingertips tapping her stiff palm. She found herself proud of you for admitting your faults to your parents—it was your greatest fear, but you did it anyway. Perhaps, you have changed or you were learning to. However, the looming presence of that buff surgeon irritated her.

Jealousy was a raging bitch.

And, speaking of… There she came, strutting into the kitchen with a look of concern. “Hey, is everything alright?” Her deep blue eyes only looked at you, gaging your stability—she couldn’t care less for Ellie’s.

Ellie swiped her hand from yours, running that same hand through her hair. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” She reached into the fridge, snatching a glass bottle of beer from the door. Just as quick as she did that, she fled the scene. Not sparing you a glance.

Eerily, your hand felt cold. You pouted, watching her leave, scratching your eyebrow. Abby uttered your name, sliding her hand around your waist. Your body tensed under her touch—it wasn’t what you yearned for. “Everything’s fine, Abby.” You breathed, gently touching the hand on your waist, removing it. However, you hid your form of rejection by turning to her, plastering a fake smile on your face.

“Joel started playing his guitar… Didn’t want you to miss it.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before— but I don’t want you to miss it, so…” You take in a deep inhale, averting your eyes. “I’ll meet you in there. I need a minute.”

Abby appeared taken aback and confused. You weren’t acting like the person she thought that she knew. And to be fair, it all started at the Tipsy Bison. “What’s going on— is something wrong—?”

“I just need a minute, alright?” You stressed, pinching your features. Almost snapping at her, but not quite. Still, your tone unnerved the blonde. She twitched, backing up from you with dejected shoulders. Abby scoffed under her breath, leaving you to pace in the kitchen alone—just like you wanted.

Because of your sudden stance at the dinner table, standing up to trot after Ellie, you forgot your empty wine glass. Instead of ducking toward the table to grab it, you just grabbed a clean glass from the cabinet. You poured a full glass of the Pinot Grigio that Ellie and Tommy had brought—nearly filling it to the brim. God, you needed a cigarette. The nicotine could hold you and console you better than a full bottle of wine. Better than the large, calloused hands of Abigail Anderson. But, better than the nimble, lightly calloused hands of Ellie Williams? Her arms? The whisps of her bluntly cut hair tickling your skin—no. Nothing was better than that… Than her.

The melodic sounds of Joel’s guitar filled your ears, and the impressed chuckles of his brother—your father. You missed hearing him play. His pleasant strum eased the spirits slipping down your throat. Then, you heard another tune, and it pulled you from the confines of the kitchen.

Your fingers held the bulbous part of the glass, resting your elbow over your arm. You moved as if you were being drawn spiritually to the living room, appearing behind Abby.

Ellie had propped herself on a stool in front of the television, with her own guitar, the one that had an inscription of your initials on the neck. It couldn’t be seen from the position you stood, but the feeling of knowing it was still there made your heart lurch.

Your parents sat on the couch, and Joel had been on a loveseat toward the side, fiddling with his own guitar. Nervously, Ellie plucked the copper strings of her guitar, attempting to quickly tune it. Her freckled cheeks were warm and a light shade of pink.

Her earthy eyes looked up at your sudden appearance and you smiled behind your full glass of wine, shyly. The corners of her plush lips curled in a subtle way that your guest would miss it—or at least you hoped that she did. Or… Maybe you didn’t. You’ve proven to be a shameless person over the past few days.

When she began to strum the guitar, she played the tune of a song that was familiar to you—Keane—Somewhere Only We Know. It was one of the songs featured on her MySpace account, in her bio. One of the first things a lurker would notice after seeing her fandom username.

Her soft, timid voice rose from her throat, singing the beginning of the song. You sipped at your white wine, lowering the glass so she could see the smile unable to fall from your lips. There was a rasp to her voice that exposed her skills to be an effect of her hobby-ing. Ellie sung not because she was good at it, but because she wanted to—it gave her comfort. And, perhaps, that’s what she needed.

“So, tell me when you’re gonna let me in… I’m getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin.”

Your epidermis burned, cheeks heating up as if it were w furnace being heated by charring charcoal. Let me in. It was selfish for you to apply yourself to the words she spoke that was written by another person. But you needed to let her in! Irrevocably.

However, for you to do that… You needed to let Abby out.

You reached up for her shoulder, tugging her closer to your level, so you could whisper in her ear. “Meet me in my bedroom in five minutes— upstairs.” Your lips moved close to the shell of her ear, fingers tapping along her strong shoulder. She didn’t know where your bedroom was, but you were certain she’d find it.

Maria side-eyed you as you slipped away with slumping shoulders. Ellie noticed your departure, stammering on the lyrics she was singing, but she kept going, dejectedly.

The navigation from the living room to your bedroom helped you realize the sum of what you drank. You stumbled on your way up the stairs, holding onto the railing, shutting your eyes and shaking your head to gather yourself.

When you entered your bedroom, you set the glass on your bedside table, meandering to your reading nook. You had swiped the pack of cigarettes from your dresser, opening up the window and lighting up to calm your wired nerves.

The cool breeze wafted into your bedroom, sending a chill down your spine. Between your index and middle finger was your burning stick of nicotine and tobacco. Remnants stuck to your clothes before slipping out the flushing window.

You practiced how you were going to break it off with her. Direct or indirect—which one was best?

Abby, we need to talk…

Abby, I have something to tell you—

“There you are…” The blonde woman peeked into your bedroom before walking inside. She shut the door behind her, and you frowned out your window. “Your room’s pinker than I thought I’d be.” Abby chortled, preparing to join you on the nook, but you spoke before she could.

“We can’t see each other anymore…” You puffed smoke from your lips, eyeing her from the corner of your eye.

She bunched her eyebrows together, lips parting. “What—?”

“And don’t act like we weren’t seeing each other, because we very much were.”

Her hands hit her thighs. “I wasn’t going to.” A deep sigh came from her mouth, fingers reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Fuck, I should’ve seen this coming.” Abby muttered, shaking her head.

You tapped your thumb around the mouthpiece of your cigarette to get rid of the ashes. “I should’ve never invited you here. I knew better, but—“ The corner of your mouth lifted and you laughed. “I wanted to be an asshole. You don’t deserve that, though. Even if you led me on for a few months.”

“Is that what all this is about? What happened with us?” She ran her hand through her hair, cheeks reddening. “y/n, I wasn’t thinking and…”

“It doesn’t matter, Abby.” You looked at her, intently. “I need someone who makes time for me— even in the oddest of situations, and that’s not you.” You tried to keep your business to yourself. The relationship that was blooming between you and an old flame; it was sacred. And, she didn’t need to know that you were taking on homewrecking as a hobby.

She scoffed, averting her eyes from you. “What did you think me driving down here was, then? Skipping out on my friends to come to a place you didn’t even want me to be—“

“I didn’t ask you to skip out on your friends—“

“Well, I did anyway!”

A beat passed between the both of you.

The blonde woman frowned. “For you, because I wanted to make up for…” Her voice trailed off, eyes welling up with tears. “It was all for nothing, clearly.”

Earlier, you had made promise that you wouldn’t lead her into fire. Yet, that’s exactly what you did. “Abby, I still appreciate you coming and being so helpful and kind to my family but… To be honest, it’s too late for me.”

Her hand wiped against her face, roughly. She trained her eyes on a spot in your room that was interesting enough to keep her emotional gaze—instead of looking you in the eye. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

You deepened your eyebrows. “Do I think you’re stupid—? “

“It’s Ellie, isn’t it?”

Your lips fell open, gaping like fish gasping for air. “You textbook lesbian…” Abby muttered to herself, chuckling, dryly.

“Abby!” You scolded, glaring up at her.

“What? It’s the truth. I never had a fucking chance to begin with.”

In a fit of frustration, you dabbed the end of your burning cigarette onto one of your pillows, burning through the material. “That’s not true!” You stood up, abruptly. “I gave you a chance months ago, and you fucking blew it!” You pointed an accusatory finger. “You’re career meant more to you—“

“Since when is that a bad thing—?”

“Fuckin’ other girls meant more to you!”

She gasped. “Oh, come on, you know that’s a reach…” Her eyes rolled, dismissively.

Stubbornly, you crossed your arms. “Do I?”

Abby scoffed, laughing, dryly. “Ever since I met you… I liked you— I was into you. I wanted you.” She confessed, tiredly. “My unavailability wasn’t some made up lie to pull a fast one. I was an overachieving, fourth-year med student who didn’t wanna risk too many distractions.” The woman explained, pausing for anxious breath. “Yeah, I know, I said some things that probably hurt your feelings—“

“Probably?” You perked an eyebrow.

She sighed. “Hurting your feelings was the only way I knew you wouldn’t expect anything of me more than what I was capable of— and, at the time, relationship-wise… I wasn’t capable of anything.” Her shoulders shrugged, weakly. As if she’s been keeping this to herself for some time.

Weirdly, you’re shoulders relaxed at her explanation. While you didn’t agree with her techniques to keep you at arms-length, you weren’t in the position to keep holding onto that frustration with her. You had other priorities. “I guess you’re right… I fucking blew it.”

Now, you sighed, averting your eyes around your room in thought. “You know, maybe, we were always meant to be friends?” You offered, rocking on your feet.

“You think I wanna be friends with you, right now?” Abby raised an eyebrow, looking at you from the side of her irritated eyes. But, there was a light smile on her lips, exposing that she wasn’t completely upset. Just disappointed that things didn’t work out as she’d hoped. “Seems like there’s something going on with you and that artist downstairs… That’s not something I wanna see— at least, not anytime soon, so…”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, whenever you have some free time on your hands, whenever you, you know, find someone else, or whatever… Maybe we could get some coffee— as friends.”

She genuinely chortled, cheeks blushing. “Yeah, whatever, Miller.” Abby jutted her thumb toward your door. “I’m gonna head out.”

You nodded, walking her to your bedroom door, following her out. “You want me to make you a plate, or anything?” That southern hospitality that was bred into you through your family could never be mistaken for being gone. Those years in the city hadn’t deteriorated you in that way. Even when you were breaking up with someone.

The woman pressed her lips into a line. “You know, what? Yeah, sure.”

“Good, because I was gon’ make you one anyway.” You nudged her side with your elbow, grinning ear to ear.

There was freedom that came to your unabashed honesty. As you walked down the stairs, your limps felt lighter, and that drunken feeling had almost spared you completely. Almost. On the last step, you nearly tripped but the sturdy railing kept your body level.

As you rounded the corner, Ellie brushed passed you and out the front door with her hand clutching her guitar. Her emotional eyes had caught the smile on your lips and perceived something that wasn’t true—just a shady assumption.

And she had every reason to assume.

The television had been turned up, and the sounds of the football game was blaring through the lower level of the house. You held up a finger to Abby, walking to your mother. “Hey,” You greeted, massaging your father’s shoulder as a physical greeting. “Would you mind makin’ Abby a plate to take home?”

She raised an eyebrow, an impressed eyebrow. “Oh, she’s leaving so soon?”

“I’m throwin’ in the asshole towel.” You shrugged, referencing her comment from earlier.

Maria chuckled, but her husband looked up at you with deepened eyebrows. “What the hell did you just say? Asshole towel—?”

“Just focus on the game, honey.” She patted her husbands shoulder, jumping to her feet. Maria met you around the couch, leaning close to you. “You go’n ahead and check on Ellie.”

You smiled, kissing her cheek, lovingly. Before you left out the door you, pointed at the tall doctor lingering in your kitchen. “Text me when you get back into the city, okay?”

Abby gave you a thumbs up. “Yeah,” Her eyes turned to your mothers frame. “Thank you, Mrs. Miller.”

Then, you slipped out the screen door, busting into a hasty speed walk. The uneven gravel wrecking havoc on your ankles, due to your slight impairment.

The porch light at the guesthouse flickered—it must need its bulb to be changed. When you appeared on the porch, your fist trembled as you raised it to knock on the door. Knock, knock, knock. You wrapped your arms around your body to keep warm.

A few moments passed and she didn’t respond.

You knocked the same pattern, and waited. Only for her to not respond, again. Behind you, you heard the engine of Abby’s Jaguar sounding off, beginning to roll along the gravel. But, you didn’t care much for it.

Heat in your cheeks blistered. “Ellie, I know you’re in there… Please, can you just open the door?” You tried with frowned lips. “It isn’t gettin’ any warmer out here…”

There was a brief silence before you heard her raspy voice on the other side of the door. “What? Abby can’t keep you warm anymore?” She scoffed.

You sighed, leaning an arm on the door frame. “No, she can’t because she just left.”

The door swung open, revealing a disheveled artist, fingers covered in charcoal. “Really?”

“Really.” You met her eyes with sincerity.

Ellie groaned, releasing the tension that she’s been harboring, leaving the door and walking into the living room.

That was her letting you inside, so you adhered, walking into the guesthouse. You shut the door behind you, eyeing her slender retreating frame. She meandered into the living room, placing hers on the stool in front of her easel. It was a new canvas, still being sketched on before she added the paints.

The pan of the pie sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, with a fork inside of it. She had taken the pie for herself, and instead of making a plate, she ate it from the tin.

Ellie continued the project she was working on, barely even giving you a glance. To break the silence, you spoke. “I meant what I said earlier…”

You couldn’t exactly see what she was sketching because you wanted to keep your distance for her sake—to respect her uncertainty. “I don’t know…” She muttered, shaking her head.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

The woman sighed, turning her body toward you on the stool. She pushed the pieces of her auburn hair behind her pierced ears. “I’m an artist who’s only sells my paintings to local coffee shops for under a hundred bucks, because I’m too scared to try anywhere else— she’s a fucking doctor… And she’s ripped!” Her hands slapped against her thighs. “Why do you wanna be with me?”

Taken aback by her outburst, you blinked. A soft scoff left your lips. “Well, I don’t like you only because you’re an artist… And I didn’t like Abby only because she was a doctor— what kind of person do you think I am?” You questioned, softly. “I wanna be with you because I love you, Ellie— Abby could never make me feel what you make me feel.” You giggle behind your finger, briefly averting your eyes. “It’s like… I can fuckin’ smell colors and taste sounds—“

“Okay, now you’re just saying whatever.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked why I want to be with you. I’m just being honest.” You shrugged, approaching her. Gently, you caressed your fingers up her bare arms, sliding up her neck to the crevice of her jaw. “I know it wasn’t easy to see what you saw earlier, and I’m sorry— I mean, just seeing you hug Cat made me wanna blow up.” She leaned into your touch, keening to you.

Smiling down at her, your eyes casted to the canvas on the easel. It was an outline of you—matter of fact, your naked body. “Ellie,” A gasp fled from your lips. “This better be an example of your photographic memory.”

Her hands had snuck along your hips, pulling you close enough for her head to rest on your chest. “It is… What do you think— I’m some sort of creep?”

“I find it funny that when you’re mad at me… Your first instinct is to draw me naked.” You snicker.

She hummed against the center pocket of your overalls. “I wasn’t necessarily mad— I was just… Sad.” Ellie looked up at you with a pout on her lips, batting her big, green eyes at you in a way that compelled you. “Abby is so much more than me— fuck, she’s financially worth more than me.” She inhaled, deeply. “What made me upset was that I understood why you’d choose her… She has a great career—“

Interrupting her, you plotted your lips against hers until her reciprocating was less confused and more enthused. Your finger dragged along her scalp, gripping slightly. When you pulled away, she leaned forward for more. “I don’t wanna talk about her anymore.” Your thumb grazed over her eyebrow, ingesting her soft features. The freckles that littered over the bridge of her nose, the subtle cracks in her lips. “I’ve been waiting to get you all to myself for days now— I refuse to waste it away because of some girl.”

“Some girl, huh?”

“Mhm.” You hummed. “I missed that cover of Keane that you had sung earlier… You think you could play it for me?” You pursed your lips, and she pulled your hips closer to her, pulling you between her legs.

Ellie peered up at you with yearning irises. “I can play whatever you want.”

A giggle escaped from your lips before you plotted them against hers once more, pulling her up to her feet. You pulled her to the bedroom, where her guitar was thrown over the messy, unmade bed.

She propped herself on the edge of the bed, and you plopped onto the ground so you could properly be her audience. You hugged your legs to your chest, looking up at her with a level of awe that you haven’t had in a while. Reflections of your past looked back at you—Ellie gripping the neck of her instrument, strumming the metal chords that’s been with her for years. Those chords had witnessed the glimmering eyes you were giving her; at a much younger age, before shit went haywire.

The smooth tone of Somewhere Only We Know glided through your ears, ignoring the chords she lagged on, or messed up because it didn’t matter. When she finished, Ellie barely got the chance to look at you before you leaped up to kiss her again. Gently, you pulled the guitar from her hands, leaning it up against the bed, tethering to her as if she were a wave crashing along an eroding boulder.

To love her freely was a weight lifted off your shoulders. It was a rush of water sprinting up the sand within a storm. A breaching of magma exploding from the mouth of a volcano—a expression of a release of passion. The inevitable.

No more Cat. No more Abby. But, besides the good sex, and the warmth of each other’s genuine embrace, and the comfort of knowing each other through and through… What else was there?

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