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surielstea · 3 days ago

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Dancing With Fate pt.11

Read part one here.

Pairing: Nyx Archeron x TamlinsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Reader and Nyx meet again, this time exploring Velaris—and much more about their fates are revealed.

Warnings: Minor conflict, protective parents, forbidden love, and some kissing 👀

A.Note: I haven’t posted since last yearrr I am so sorry to all of you, but part two is finally here!! I hope you guys enjoy, it’s a little bit more fast paced but I wanted to speed it along so I could get to the actual good stuff. Make sure you read part one prior to this!

Word count: 7.1k

I was in my bedroom, rereading a book for the sixth time. It was the least favorite on my shelf, worn only from idle desperation rather than love. Father didn't often take me out to buy new books; when he did, it was always after much coaxing. I could go without him, but only with a sentry trailing me. And I hated inconveniencing them with what he called my "silly hobby." So, I waited until my father needed something from the town, and then I'd quietly slip a purchase into our errands.

It had been a week—exactly seven days—since the ball at the Dawn Court. Since I'd talked with a stranger until sunrise. It was strange, missing someone whose name I didn't even know. But I did. I missed the way he teased me, the way I could be me with him—unguarded and, for once, unjudged. My chest ached at the memory, yet I forced my attention back to the book in my lap, pretending not to notice how hollow the words felt tonight.

"I could take you to the bookstore, you know."

I jolted upright at the sudden intrusion in my mind, my breath catching at the unfamiliar—yet eerily familiar—cool tone.

"Who's there?" My whispered words sounded absurd even to me, as I scanned my empty room for a presence that couldn't possibly be real. My pulse thundered, but no one appeared.

"In your head, princess," the voice replied smoothly, amusement curling through every syllable.

My breath hitched. That voice... his voice.

"How are you doing that?" I whispered, my grip tightening on the book.

"Daemati powers," he answered, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

Daemati. My thoughts raced. Only a few could wield that kind of power, and even fewer had the skill to enter a mind from such a distance, wherever he was. The realization sent a shiver down my spine. "Get out of my head."

"Let me take you to the bookstore, and I will."

"I can't go out." The words came out sharp, though I wasn't sure whether I was speaking to him or to myself. "My father would—"

"Your father isn't home, is he?" he interrupted, his voice dipping into a dry hum. "Come now, are there wards locking you in?"

"No," I admitted, frowning, disliking that he already knew that fact.

"Chains on your doors or windows?"

"No, but—"

"Then you can leave."

"It's not that simple," I snapped, then clamped my mouth shut, wincing at my own volume.

A quiet pause. Then, softly, "What happened to the girl I met at the ball? The one who wasn't afraid to sneak away and stay out until dawn?"

"This is manipulation," I grumbled, though my chest fluttered at the memory of that night.

"Is it working?" he purred, smug.

"Yes," I muttered under my breath, hating the warmth that pooled in my stomach.

"Good. Meet me at the Spring and Summer border."

Before I could argue, the connection snapped, leaving me alone in the quiet, moonlit room. I stared at the book in my lap, then closed it with a sharp thud and tossed it onto the bed.

I shouldn't do this. I couldn't do this.

And yet, I was already moving—slipping into boots, shrugging on my satchel, and inching my window open with careful fingers. The night air kissed my skin as I hoisted myself onto the sill, every creak of the frame sending a thrill of nervous energy through me as my feet planted on the roof below me.

The climb down the flower-covered lattice was agonizingly slow, the wooden structure groaning beneath my weight as I scaled the two-story descent. By the time my feet touched the ground, my heart was racing. I pressed myself into the shadows, my movements silent as I made my way past the lingering, half-awake sentries and through the edge of the wards.

Once outside, I winnowed. The magic tugged at my ribs, spinning me through space until I landed at the Spring and Summer border.

It wasn't hard to spot him. He was already there, leaning casually against a sunstone pillar, his wings catching the moonlight like black silk. Shadows played along the sharp lines of his face, accentuating the curve of his mouth as he smiled—a sharp, knowing thing that made my steps falter.

"Evening, princess," he drawled, pushing off the pillar with an ease that made everything about him look so effortless.

"You know my title, but I still don't know your name," I replied, crossing my arms in a poor attempt to mask the way my heart stumbled at the sight of him.

His grin widened, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Let's keep it that way for now. Mystery suits us, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes, but before I could retort, his hand shot out, plucking something from my hair. He held it up between two fingers—a small, pale pink rose. "You've got a knack for dramatic entrances," he said, twirling the flower.

"Must've fallen when I climbed down the lattice," I muttered, taking the rose from his hand, though my fingers brushed his for a beat longer than necessary.

His brow arched in mock surprise. "You mean to tell me flowers don't just grow from your hair? And here I thought you were a goddess in disguise."

"Don't be ridiculous." I snorted, very un-goddess-like. "This, however, I can do." I cupped the rose in my palm, letting a sliver of my magic flow into it.

The transformation was instant. Vines sprouted from the stem, curling down my wrist in an intricate dance, tiny buds blooming along their length. The rose gleamed in the moonlight, glowing faintly with the life I'd breathed into it.

His smirk faltered, replaced by wide-eyed wonder. The silver light of the moon reflected in his gaze as he leaned closer, studying the vines with an intensity that made heat crawl up my neck. "Impressive," he murmured, his voice softer now. "What else can you do?"

I met his gaze, a grin tugging at my lips. "I'll tell you when you explain how you're able to read my thoughts."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Touché," he said, the smirk returning as he straightened. He extended a hand toward me, his wings shifting slightly as if preparing for flight. "Shall we?"

"Go where?" I asked, tilting my head.

"To the bookstore, of course."

"At midnight?" My disbelieving laugh echoed in the quiet night. "They're all closed."

"Not in the Night Court." His grin turned wolfish, his wings flaring just enough to cast long shadows. "Come on, I'll show you."

I froze, my stomach twisting at the mention of his court. My voice dropped to a whisper. "The Night Court? I'm not allowed to go there. My father forbade it."

"Well," he said with a pointed glance at my boots, "he also forbade sneaking out, and yet, here we are."

His smile was the very definition of trouble, but it faltered when he caught the hesitation in my eyes. The sharp edges of his expression softened. "We don't have to. If you want, I'll winnow you right back to Spring. No harm done."

My lips parted to refuse. To tell him I couldn't, I shouldn't. But the way he watched me, that glint of challenge in his gaze, made something reckless and wild spark to life in my chest. Against every ounce of better judgment, I stepped forward and slipped my hand into his.

"No," I said softly. "I want to."

His fingers tightened around mine, warmth spreading up my arm. "Just one question before we go," I said, my voice light but curious.

"Anything," he replied, his tone low and almost teasing.

"Are there monsters in the libraries there? Creatures made of nightmares?"

His chuckle was deep and smooth, like a shadow curling around the edges of my thoughts. "Bryaxis?" He grinned. "They're a friend."

I stared at him, horrified and awed all at once. "You made friends with a nightmare?"

He tugged me closer, a wicked gleam lighting his face. "Oh, princess," he murmured, his voice dipping into something darker, more thrilling. "You have no idea the company I keep."

Before I could say another word, the world dissolved into darkness.

—

The Night court wasn't the stories my father had told me as a child at all. Tales of monsters crawling from the shadows and winged creatures coming to steal me away. Rather, it was breathtaking, even at first glance. The scent of night-blooming jasmine filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of laughter and music drifting from nearby streets. Lanterns hung in the air like suspended stars, casting a warm, golden glow over the cobblestone paths and vibrant market stalls.

I stumbled slightly as we landed, but Nyx's hand tightened around mine, steadying me. "Easy there, princess," he murmured, the warmth of his voice grounding me.

I glanced at our joined hands, but he made no move to let go, so I didn't pull away.

"This... this is the Night Court?" I whispered, my voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

"Velaris," he corrected softly, his gaze flicking over the streets like it was a lover's touch. "The City of Starlight."

I didn't know where to look first. Everything was alive, vibrant, yet somehow soothing, like the city itself was breathing. The Night Market stretched out before us, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Vendors called out to passing patrons, their stalls brimming with everything from exotic spices to delicate jewelry and hand-woven silk.

"You live here?" I asked, glancing up at him.

"Sometimes," he said vaguely, a shadow of a smirk tugging at his lips.

We began to walk, and almost immediately, heads started to turn. A merchant at a nearby stall beamed when she saw him. "Haven't seen you in weeks, boy!" she called, waving a hand towards us.

He shot the vendor a look, though it wasn't unkind. "Evening, Mrs. Fowley," he said quickly, guiding me forward before I could ask more questions.

But then another vendor spotted him. And another. Each one greeted him like an old friend, their faces lighting up as if his presence alone had brightened their evening.

"Back again, lad?" one called.

"Nyx, come here," Their voice cut through the chatter of the market. His steps faltered, his head turning toward the sound.

"Nyx?" I asked, my curiosity piqued as he guided me toward the voice, his hand still warm and steady in mine.

His eyes flicked down to meet mine, a grin tugging at his lips. "Cat's out of the bag, I suppose."

"Bat's out of the bag," I quipped, gesturing to the wings folded neatly behind him.

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Well, aren't you clever," he said dryly, though the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement.

"Who's this pretty girl?" a female asked as we approached, the same one who had called him over. She held a tray of pastries, her expression kind and curious.

He—Nyx—looked at me then, really looked, with an intensity that made my cheeks warm. Before he could answer, a group of giggling girls stumbled down the path, one of them brushing past me and bumping me forward into his chest.

"My girlfriend," he said smoothly, his arm curling around my waist, pulling me closer.

I blinked up at him, startled by his words, but as I caught the wide-eyed, dismayed looks from the group of girls, understanding dawned.

"Ah, careful with this one, love. Just like his father with the ladies," the baker teased her tone light and amused as she gave me a playful wink. Nyx's arm tightened slightly around my waist at her words.

"Here, take a sweet. For whatever trouble he puts you through," she said, plucking a chocolate-covered croissant from her tray with a pair of tongs and holding it out to me.

I hesitated for a moment before accepting the pastry, a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Thank you, Miss," I said softly, my fingers brushing hers as I took the treat.

She waved me off with a warm smile. "Call me Ressina. I run this stand for his aunt's bakery, and I have a feeling I'll be seeing more of you."

I nodded, smiling. "I hope so," I said sincerely, her kindness making the bustling market feel a little less overwhelming.

"Go on, then," she said, shooing us away. "Don't let me keep you."

Nyx didn't need to be told twice. His hand remained firm at my waist as he steered me back down the path, away from the stand.

I glanced up at him, raising a brow as I bit into the croissant. The pastry was perfect—flaky, buttery, and rich with chocolate that melted on my tongue. I made a quiet, appreciative sound before speaking. "You're popular, aren't you?"

He cleared his throat, quickening his pace as though trying to escape the conversation. "They're just friendly here."

"Friendly?" I teased, a mischievous lilt in my voice. "You must be their favorite customer—or maybe something more. Should I be jealous?"

His wings twitched, and a faint blush crept up his neck. "Are you jealous, princess?"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Hardly," I grumbled before taking another large bite of the delectable pastry.

"The baker is a family friend," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "She seemed to like you."

"Plenty seem to like you," I muttered under my breath, finishing the last bite of the pastry. "Boyfriend?"

He cringed slightly, his expression sheepish. "Sorry. Those girls have been following me for weeks. I didn't want you to have to deal with them."

I grinned, delighting in his discomfort. "You know, if you wanted to keep a low profile, you're not doing a very good job of it," I mumble, finishing off the croissant and debating licking my fingers since it was so delicious.

He shot me a sidelong glance, his smirk returning with a wicked edge. "Jealousy looks good on you, princess."

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth spreading across my cheeks betrayed me.

We turned a corner, the bustle of the market fading behind us as we approached a cozier part of the street. Nyx slowed his pace, guiding me toward a small building nestled between two larger shops. A golden sign hung above the door, marking it as a bookshop.

I paused, taking in the sight. The windows glowed softly, and through the glass, I could see shelves upon shelves of books, their spines glinting like hidden treasures. My heart swelled at the sight.

Nyx pulled the door open, motioning for me to step inside. "After you."

The scent of parchment and ink greeted me like an old friend, mingling with the faint aroma of spiced tea. The warmth of the shop wrapped around me, inviting and comforting, as though it had been waiting just for us.

I turned to him, my lips parting to thank him, but he spoke first. "Go on. Find something you like."

His voice was softer now, the teasing edge replaced by something gentler. I hesitated for only a moment before stepping further in, my fingers trailing over the spines of books as I wandered through the aisles.

Nyx followed at a distance, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze steady on me.

"You brought me all this way for a book," I said over my shoulder, smiling. "You're either very kind or very strange."

"Can't I be both?" he replied, his smirk resurfacing as he leaned casually against a nearby shelf.

I shook my head, letting myself get lost in the rows of stories, their endless possibilities calling to me.

I let my fingers dance along the spines of the books, tracing gilded titles and worn leather bindings. Each shelf seemed to hum with stories waiting to be told. A soft sigh escaped me, my heart swelling with quiet contentment.

Behind me, Nyx's footsteps were faint, his presence unobtrusive but unmistakable. I could feel his gaze, watchful and steady, as I explored.

"Find something?" he asked after a while, his voice softer now, almost reverent in the quiet of the shop.

"Not yet," I admitted, my fingers pausing on a particularly beautiful hardback, still pristine and painted gold along its edges. I tilted my head, reading the title.

A smile tugged at my lips. "This seems interesting."

Nyx stepped closer, his warmth brushing against my back as he peered over my shoulder. "Good choice," he murmured, his breath stirring the hair near my temple.

I turned slightly, catching his gaze. "Do you read?"

"Of course," he said, mock offense coloring his tone. "What, do I not seem the type?"

I bit back a grin, holding the book against my chest. "You seem like the type to skim for interesting bits and skip the rest."

His grin turned wicked. "What can I say? I’ve never been one for small talk,"

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the shelves, but his laughter followed me.

"Here," he said after a moment, reaching past me. His arm brushed mine as he plucked a slim, leather-bound book from the shelf. He held it out, his eyes gleaming.

I took it from him, studying the worn cover. Lost Letters Between Lovers. I shot him a look, heat creeping into my cheeks.

His smirk deepened. "Thought it might be useful for you. In case you needed inspiration."

"For what exactly?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Winning me over," he said smoothly, his wings giving a small flick.

I laughed, shaking my head. "You've got it all wrong. I'm the one who needs convincing."

"Is that right?" he drawled, his voice low and amused.

I turned back to the shelves, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing the flush that had spread down my neck.

After a few more moments of browsing, I found another book that caught my eye. I tucked it under my arm, satisfied.

"Done?" Nyx asked, his tone deceptively casual.

"For now," I said, turning to him. He tilted his head toward the counter, gesturing for me to follow.

The shopkeeper, an elderly male with spectacles perched on the end of his nose, greeted us warmly. "Nyx, my boy. Bringing someone special to the shop, I see."

I froze, suddenly hyperaware of Nyx standing beside me. His hand brushed against mine as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a few coins.

"Just passing through, Mr. Tylan," he said smoothly, though there was a faint pink tinge to his cheeks.

Mr. Tylan chuckled knowingly. "Well, it's about time you brought a girl around, the missus and I were beginning to grow doubtful you’d ever meet the one.” He breathes through his nose as he speaks, expert hands wrapping the books in brown paper. “She has excellent taste."

Nyx handed over the payment before I could even think to rummage through my bag, his voice a touch gruff as he replied, "She does."

I glanced at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. He didn't meet my gaze, instead picking up the small stack of books and tucking them under his arm.

"Come on," he said, inclining his head toward the door.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Tylan,” I say with a soft smile as Nyx ushers me out the door.

“See you around, dear,” He gives me a simple wave.

It was odd, how anxious Nyx seemed in a place as welcoming as this. Everyone was friendly, and everyone knew him, perhaps he was afraid we’d run into the wrong set of people.

The cool night air greeted us as we stepped outside, the lively sounds of the market drifting faintly in the distance. Nyx fell into step beside me, the books still cradled in one arm.

"You didn't have to buy these for me," I said softly as he held them out to me, though he seemed more than willing to continue carrying them for me.

He shrugged, his wings shifting slightly as I took them and stuffed them into my bag. "I wanted to."

I studied him for a moment, the quiet confidence in his stride, the way the moonlight danced across his features. "You're not as insufferable as you pretend to be," I said, smiling.

His lips twitched. "Don't let it go to your head, princess."

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, the books pressing against my side with a comforting weight. Finally, I glanced at him, curiosity tugging at me.

"Why did you bring me here?"

He hesitated, his steps faltering for just a moment before he recovered. "You seemed like the type who'd like it. Thought it might make you smile."

I stared at him, warmth blooming in my chest. "You thought right."

His smirk softened into something gentler, something more real. "Good."

As we reached the edge of the market, I found myself wishing the night didn't have to end.

"Nyx," I called softly, stopping in my tracks.

He turned, dark brows lifting in question, the moonlight catching in his vibrant blue eyes.

"Thank you. For tonight," I said, the words carrying more weight than I expected.

His gaze held mine, something unspoken flickering between us. Then he smiled, and it felt as if the stars themselves had leaned in to listen.

"You think it's over already?" he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

I tilted my head, curiosity piqued. "What else could you possibly have planned?"

He glanced skyward, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he slid his hand into mine, his grip warm and steady, and winnowed us away.

The world shifted. The cool night air nipped at my skin, sharper here, and I realized we were higher—much higher. Thin air filled my lungs as I took in our new surroundings.

"Where are we?" I asked, turning in place. Encircling us were jagged rock formations, a barren beauty carved by time.

"Look up," he said simply.

I frowned but obeyed, tipping my head back. My breath hitched as the heavens unfolded above me, brighter and closer than I'd ever seen them. The stars weren't merely distant pinpricks of light—they blazed like fireflies caught in an eternal dance, constellations shimmering with unmatched clarity.

"Beautiful," I whispered, unaware the word had even left me.

"Indeed," he murmured.

I turned to him, startled to find him already staring at me. His gaze held the same reverence I felt for the stars, and my heart skipped.

I managed a soft smile, then let my eyes drift back upward, unable to tear myself away from the galaxy stretched endlessly above.

"Come here," he said gently, tugging my hand.

Only then did I realize we were still connected, his touch grounding me even as my mind reeled at the beauty around us. He led me to a rocky outcropping, the path winding into a shallow cave. For a moment, the stars disappeared behind the jagged stone ceiling, and I frowned.

But then we emerged into an open chamber, a perfect circle carved into the roof. It was as though someone had reached into the earth and torn a hole, desperate to preserve this view of the night sky. The chamber's walls cradled us, offering shelter without stealing the stars.

Nyx guided me to a makeshift bench—a cluster of smooth, square stones—and sat. I followed, still entranced, my gaze drawn skyward as if bewitched.

"I used to come here when I was younger," he said after a moment of quiet. His voice was low, intimate in the stillness. "I'd forgotten about it until tonight. You reminded me it existed."

I tore my eyes from the sky to glance at him, curiosity tugging at me. "How could anyone forget a place like this?"

He smiled faintly. "It was my escape from, everything. My family. Expectations. I needed somewhere I could breathe."

I nodded, turning my attention back to the stars. "I get the feeling."

He bumped his shoulder against mine, drawing my gaze once more. "No one else knows about it. But I thought maybe you'd need a place like this, too."

Warmth bloomed in my chest, his words wrapping around me like a soft blanket. I glanced at him, and again, he was already staring at me.

I arched a brow. "You have a staring problem, you know."

His lips curved into a smirk. "Do I? I hadn't noticed."

I rolled my eyes, chuckling as I leaned my head against his shoulder.

Together, we gazed upward. He traced the constellations with his words, his voice soft and steady, while his thumb brushed gentle circles over the back of my hand. Each star above felt like it had been hung there just for us, as if the universe had paused to watch this quiet moment unfold.

For the first time in a long time, I felt peace.

"Nyx?" I asked softly after a few beats of silence.

He tensed ever so slightly at the sound of his name, a shiver rolling through him. I told myself it was because of the chill in the air.

"Hmm?"

"Who are you, really?"

His breathing slowed at my question, as if he were recalibrating, regaining control of a situation he hadn't anticipated losing.

"I have a feeling," I began, "that the power you used to peek into my head knows my lineage. It's only fair I know who you are, too."

He glanced at me, a cocky, almost childish smirk playing on his lips—a look that said, I'm not telling.

"Come on," I groaned, throwing my free hand out in frustration. His other hand still held mine, warm and steadfast. He hadn't let go, and I didn't want to, either.

"Don't you like a bit of mystery?" he teased.

"It's not a mystery when you already know who I am," I countered, arching a brow.

"Fair point, Princess."

Heat crept up my neck at the nickname, one he'd used since the beginning—since before he'd seen into my thoughts.

"You knew," I murmured, realization dawning. My voice wavered, the words trembling like brittle leaves in the wind. "You've known I'm a High Lord's daughter all along. That's why you're entertaining this, isn't it?"

I pulled my hand from his and stood abruptly, my heart hammering in my chest.

His brows furrowed as he looked up at me, confusion—and something like hurt—flashing in his eyes. "What?"

"Don't play clueless now." My voice rose, a mixture of anger and humiliation bubbling to the surface. "You've known exactly who I am. That's why you're showing me the stars, why you're charming me. You're trying to secure a seat on my father's throne."

"You think I'm charming?" he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

I spluttered, words dying on my tongue. "That's not the point—"

"Look," he cut in, his tone steady but laced with urgency. "Yes, I've known who you were from the start. I won't deny that. But, Princess, believe me when I say the last thing I want is your father's throne."

"Why should I believe you?" I snapped, crossing my arms. "You've done nothing but lie to me since we met. Why should I trust anything you say now?"

"Because I didn't want you to see me differently," he admitted, his voice quieter now, raw. "Because of who I am."

I froze, my anger wavering. My voice softened. "And who, exactly, is that?"

"The heir to the Night Court," he said, the words falling from his lips like a confession he'd carried for too long.

The ground seemed to slip out from under me. My vision blurred for a heartbeat, but I blinked hard, willing myself to stay rooted in the moment.

My father had warned me relentlessly about the Lord of Night—engraved the warning into my mind until it became part of me. The Night Court was treacherous. Its people were dangerous.

But he lied about the court. About its beauty.

Perhaps he lied about its people, too.

"Gods, I’m sure a fool.” I sighed, putting everything together. “Nyx Archeron," I said slowly, his name foreign and familiar on my tongue.

He nodded, watching me intently. "When I approached you on the balcony, I didn't know who you were. I swear it. But as we talked, I got comfortable, let my power stretch a bit further. Halfway through the night, I realized who you were. But I... I didn't want to ruin it. I didn't want our parents' feud to dictate—this."

"This?" I asked faintly, though I didn't need clarification.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't want you to find out like this. I can take you home, if you'd prefer."

Disappointment weighed in his tone, a stark contrast to the teasing arrogance I'd grown used to.

I wasn't mad at him for his lineage—he had no control over that. I wasn't even mad he'd lied. I was mad he hadn't told me sooner. Mad that it cast a shadow over everything we'd shared tonight, turning our conversations into something that felt artificial.

My shoulders slumped, the fight leaving me as quickly as it had arrived. I lowered myself back onto the bench beside him.

"I want to start over," I said, my voice hesitant but firm.

Relief washed over his features, and he relaxed slightly, though he kept a cautious distance. "I'm sorry for lying," he said, his words softer now, more earnest. "I was, nervous."

Something told me that wasn't an emotion he felt often.

"I know," I said, surprising myself with how much I meant it. Perhaps I was the only person who could.

Taking a steadying breath, I turned to him. "It's nice to meet you, officially, Nyx," I said, a tentative smile tugging at my lips.

"Likewise, Princess," he replied, mirroring my smile.

And in the silence that followed, we both silently agreed to leave the past behind us, if only for tonight.

Nyx leaned back, resting his arms on the bench as he looked up at the stars. "You know, I've never interacted with someone who’s an heir too. Should I be bowing?"

I smirked, tilting my head as I looked at him. "Oh, absolutely. A bow is essential. Maybe even throw in a grand speech. Something like, It is my great honor to meet the Princess of the Spring Court."

"That's a tall order," he said, his lips curving into that infuriatingly smug grin. "Would a wink and a smile suffice?"

I scoffed, leaning forward and propping my chin on my hand. "You'd probably trip over your own feet if you tried to bow."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, one brow arching in amusement.

"It's an educated guess," I shot back, crossing my arms.

He leaned in, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "You know, for someone who called me charming earlier, you're being awfully cruel."

Heat flooded my cheeks, but I refused to look away. "I said no such thing."

"Oh, you definitely did." He grinned, leaning even closer. "You think I'm charming. Admit it."

"Nyx—"

"Say it, Princess."

I narrowed my eyes, pretending to deliberate. "You know what? Fine. I think you're charming, in the same way a stray cat is charming when it's begging for food. Annoying, persistent, but kind of hard to ignore."

He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing fully, the tension leaving the both of us. "Fair enough. But if I'm a stray cat you're certainly a rabbit."

I blinked, caught off guard. "A rabbit?"

He nodded, his grin widening. "Cute, curious, and way too confident for your own good."

"Confident?" I repeated, laughing. "This coming from you? The heir of the Night Court who decided to winnow me across Prythian on a whim?"

"That was a calculated risk," he said smoothly, though the glint in his eyes gave him away.

"Calculated risk, my ass." I shook my head, unable to hide my grin. "You're lucky I haven't punched you yet."

"Oh, Princess," he drawled, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "If you wanted an excuse to get your hands on me, you could've just asked."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat. His proximity was... distracting.

The air shifted, the playful banter giving way to something quieter, heavier. His gaze locked on mine, and I swore the world shrank to just the two of us, the stars above fading into the background.

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the way my heart was suddenly racing. "You're ridiculous."

"I offered to take you home," he said softly, his thumb brushing idly over the back of my hand and I wasn’t sure when they intertwined again, "and yet here we are." His tone was teasing, but there was something else beneath it. Something real.

I didn't answer, my throat suddenly tight. He was too close now, his presence overwhelming in a way that wasn't entirely unwelcome.

Before I could overthink it, his hand moved, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers lingered at my temple, his touch featherlight.

"Nyx..." I breathed, not even sure what I was about to say.

But he didn't answer—not with words. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing mine in the gentlest, softest kiss.

It was tentative, as if he wasn't sure if I'd pull away. But I didn't. I couldn't help but kiss him back. It was foreign, but filling me with a warmth similar to the sun's morning rays.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

I shook my head, my thoughts a tangle of emotions. "We can't," I blurted, though my voice betrayed me with its lack of conviction.

"I know," he replied, his voice heavy with something that felt like regret—but also determination.

Our eyes remained locked, mere inches apart. We really couldn't, not with who we were, not with who our parents were.

Neither of us seemed to care at that moment, and I don't know if it was me or him who moved first, but suddenly his soft lips were back on mine.

This time, there was no hesitation. His hand cupped my jaw, pulling me closer as his lips claimed mine. It wasn't soft or shy anymore—it was raw, urgent, as though the world might end if he didn't kiss me harder.

I felt myself melt into it, my hands tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his free hand moving to my waist to hold me steady. The air around us seemed to shift, thickening, crackling with an energy I couldn't place.

Then it happened.

A snap, like a tether locking into place.

I gasped against his lips but didn't move away, the sensation overwhelming as something warm and ancient bloomed deep in my chest, spreading through me like wildfire. It was hard to put into words, but suddenly I felt connected to the male against me, connected to his emotions, his thoughts, his very soul. Tethered. Bound.

Nyx pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as his breath came in quick, uneven bursts. His eyes were wide, filled with equal parts wonder and disbelief.

"You felt that too," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I could only nod, my own breath shaking as I tried to process what had just happened.

The mating bond.

The realization settled between us like a living, breathing thing, as though it had been waiting for this exact moment to make itself known.

"Nyx," I began again, but he silenced me with a small, disbelieving chuckle.

He leaned in again, kissing me softly, the smile on his lips brushing against mine like a whispered secret. It was almost as if he couldn't stop himself, as if the bond was drawing him closer with every passing second. When he pulled back, his amusement lingered in his expression, though his eyes were heavy with the weight of what we'd just discovered.

"The gods have a cruel way of amusing themselves," he murmured, his voice laced with irony.

I sighed, our noses brushing as we remained impossibly close. "What are we supposed to do?"

"We'll figure it out," he reassured, his tone soft but certain. His hands, strong and steady, cradled my face, grounding me amidst the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me. "It doesn't have to change anything."

"But it will," I argued, my voice trembling.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his thumb tracing a soothing pattern against my cheek. "I know."

The ache in my chest was something new and raw, a longing that pulsed in time with the bond, an unspoken promise tying us together. It was overwhelming and comforting all at once. My eyes fluttered shut as I tried to sift through the torrent of thoughts crashing over me.

After a moment, his demeanor grew more serious, though his thumb continued its soothing path along my cheek. “We’ll need somewhere safe to be when we accept the bond.”

I tilted my head, my eyes fluttering open as I frowned at him

In confusion. “Safe?”

His lips quirked, a knowing look in his eyes. “I’ve heard stories of what happens to couples during The Frenzy. It’s, intense.”

A shiver ran through me at his words, not from the cold, but from the vivid images that his tone—and my imagination—conjured.

Nyx raised a brow, clearly catching the direction of my thoughts, but I quickly stammered, “Just cold.”

“Cold?” His smirk returned, though it was softer this time, laced with something tender. “Here.”

Without another word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. The warmth of it enveloped me immediately, carrying his scent—fresh air, cedarwood, and something uniquely him.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low as his hands lingered for a moment, making sure the jacket sat snugly around me.

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too widely. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Princess,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer than necessary before he settled back, his hand casually brushing against mine.

And just like that, the air between us shifted again—lighter, easier, yet still charged with something deeper.

“We’ll figure this out,” Nyx said softly, his confidence unwavering.

Looking at him now, his jacket around my shoulders and a small, reassuring smile on his lips, I knew he meant it.

And then, as if he couldn't resist, he kissed me again.

This one was gentle, hesitant, but filled with so much care it nearly unraveled me. His lips lingered on mine, soft and warm, making it impossibly hard to focus.

"Lucien," I blurted out, pulling back suddenly.

Nyx blinked, his brows furrowing at my abrupt shift. "What about him?"

An idea began to form, one I clung to like a lifeline. "Lucien—you know him, don't you?"

"He's married to my aunt," Nyx said cautiously, his tone laced with curiosity.

I nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place in my mind. "My father lets me visit the Day Court now that Lucien is ruling there. Maybe... maybe I can convince him to let me stay with Lucien for a while. You could find a reason to be there too."

His lips pressed into a thin line, his mind clearly racing through the implications. "And when you have to return to the Spring Court?" he asked, his voice measured.

"We'll figure it out then," I said, shaking my head. The thought of leaving him made my chest tighten painfully, but I pushed through the discomfort. "I just... I want this. I want us."

His answer was immediate, the conviction in his voice struck a chord deep within me. "I do too."

"Good," I said, a small, tentative smile forming on my lips. "Then tomorrow, I'll talk to my father. In the meantime, you can talk to me using your Daemati powers. Can't you?"

He nodded, his sapphire eyes softening as they roamed over my face.

"We'll be fine," I said, my voice steadier now, the words carrying a newfound determination.

Nyx mirrored my smile, and for a moment, it felt as though the world narrowed to just the two of us. This male—who had teased me, infuriated me, and unraveled me in the span of a week—had somehow wormed his way into my heart. And now, with the bond tying us together, I couldn't imagine life without him.

"Are we okay with Lucien and your aunt knowing?" I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper as the thought hit me.

"They'd be the first people I'd tell out of my entire family," he said without hesitation.

"Me too," I agreed softly.

His thumb brushed against my cheek again, his touch both soothing and electrifying. "We'll be fine," he repeated as if trying to convince us both.

But as he said it, I believed him.

The warmth between us lingered as we sat on the bench, the conversation flowing back into the easy rhythm of banter. He teased me about my lack of subtlety in staring, while I reminded him that he was the one who practically glowed under the moonlight, making it impossible not to.

But the night was growing late, and the weight of reality began to creep in.

"I should get you back to Summer's borders," Nyx finally said, his voice tinged with reluctance.

I sighed, not wanting the night to end, but I nodded. "You're right."

He stood and offered me his hand, which I took without hesitation. "Three days," I said as we began walking out of the cave. "Meet me in Day."

He smiled, a flash of teeth and mischief. "Three days."

—

When we reached the border, the air seemed heavier, more final. I turned to him, feeling the pull of the bond even as I prepared to leave. I shrugged off the jacket he had draped over my shoulders and held it out to him.

"Here," I said. "Take it back. If my father sees it, he'll have questions."

He crossed his arms, smirking. "Keep it."

I frowned. "Nyx—"

"Nope. You keep it. Hide it if you're worried about your father. Or don't. Either way, it gives me an excuse to see you again."

I gave him a flat look, but his smugness only deepened.

"Nyx," I repeated, more firmly this time, shoving the jacket into his chest.

He caught it easily but didn't take it. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice low and teasing. "Princess, if you give it back, I'll have no reason to track you down. And that would be such a shame."

I stared at him, torn between exasperation and amusement. His logic was infuriatingly charming, and the grin he wore told me he knew he was winning.

"Fine," I relented with a dramatic sigh, clutching the jacket back to my chest. "You win."

His smile softened into something warmer as he leaned down, brushing a kiss against my lips. It was quick, light, and left me wanting more.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice like a caress.

I huffed a laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Don't push it."

But he kissed me again, this time slower, deeper, his hands sliding to my waist as he pulled me closer. I melted into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as his lips moved against mine.

"Nyx," I whispered against his mouth, the word half a chuckle. "I have to go."

"One more," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

I hesitated, but the bond between us tugged insistently, and I found myself nodding. "Fine."

This time, he kissed me like he wanted me to remember it, to carry the taste of him back with me to Spring. His hands framed my face as his lips claimed mine, the kiss lingering, searing itself into my memory.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breathing uneven. "Three days," he whispered.

"Three days," I echoed, my voice soft, but my resolve firm.

With one last lingering glance, I winnowed back to Spring Court Manor, the taste of him still on my lips and his jacket clutched tightly in my hands.

My father was going to kill me.

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zylokv · 1 day ago

Text

TIME OF DEATH, I LOVE YOU. — myoui mina

❝ you're my spouse on paper, however you're not my responsibility.❞

synopsis — for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.

word count ! — 14k

— myoui mina x reader !

notice — heavily inspired by @neoplatinum, aswell as cozuzi and queen of tears.

disclaimer ! — this story is a work of fiction. the portrayal of characters, events, and relationships does not reflect the real lives or personalities of any individuals mentioned. themes of infidelity and emotional conflict are explored, but the intention is not to glamorize toxic behavior.

series masterlist !

SPECIAL CHAPTER !

the scene was a blur of white coats and red streaks, of urgent voices calling out numbers and instructions that mina couldn’t process. her focus stayed on you, pale and unmoving on the stretcher as paramedics pushed you through the hospital corridors. every step felt like a nightmare she couldn’t wake from, her breath hitching with each glance at the blood staining your shoulder, your shirt, and the gurney beneath you.

the oxygen mask over your face rose and fell with shallow breaths, a frail sign of life that both comforted and terrified her. mina’s trembling hand gripped the edge of the stretcher, running to keep up as they wheeled you toward the emergency room. her legs felt like they could give out at any moment, but she didn’t let go. she couldn’t.

her hand clung to the edge of the stretcher, her knuckles bone-white against the metal as she ran to keep up. her legs threatened to give out with each step, but she refused to let go. every glance at you—your face pale and smeared with blood, the oxygen mask pressing against your lips—felt like a stab to her chest.

she hadn’t realized her tears were falling until they dripped onto your arm, mingling with the streaks of red already there.

“move aside,” someone said, reaching for her arm, but she jerked away, her voice sharp and broken. “no. just a moment.”

the stretcher slowed briefly as they reached the emergency room doors, and mina leaned over you, her breath catching as she studied your face. you were slipping away—she could feel it. your eyelids fluttered weakly, your chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. the sight was unbearable.

“you’re okay,” she whispered, though her voice cracked on the words. she forced herself to speak, her tears falling faster now. her breath hitched as she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. “i’m here. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

usually you'd be able to reassure her, not this time. her heart felt like it shattered all over again.

“why?” she choked out, her voice breaking under the weight of her grief. “why do you always have to be the hero? why do you always put yourself in harm’s way? don’t you see what you’re doing to me?”

she cupped your face with trembling hands, her fingers slick with your blood. “you don’t get to leave me. not this time. not again.”

her voice cracked as she lowered her forehead to yours, her tears slipping down her cheeks to stain your skin. “you’re going to wake up. you’re going to see me, and i’ll be here. i promise. i’ll be here.”

her words faltered, and for a moment, her mind was dragged back to that day—to the cold hospital corridors, the shouting voices, and the sight of you being taken from her while she stood helplessly, screaming your name. she remembered the desperation, the guilt, the agony of not being able to stay by your side.

not again.

this time, she wouldn’t let them take you from her. she wouldn’t let you wake up to somebody else.

the stretcher began to move again, slipping from her grasp as the nurses rushed to wheel you through the double doors. mina reached out, her hands shaking as if trying to hold onto you, to tether you to her somehow.

her knees buckled as the doors slammed shut, the sound echoing in the empty hallway like a final, resounding blow.

she collapsed onto the cold tile floor, her hands clenching into fists, stained with your blood. silent sobs wracked her body, her chest heaving with the weight of her despair. her tears dripped onto the floor, mixing with the crimson streaks that marked the path you had taken.

“please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “please, don’t leave me. not this time.”

but the hallway offered no answers, only the distant hum of machines and the haunting echo of her cries.

------

the sharp squeak of hurried footsteps echoed down the hospital corridor as your father rushed in, his coat disheveled, his tie hastily loosened. his eyes darted around, searching desperately until they landed on her—mina, slumped against the cold tile wall, her hands trembling in her lap, smeared with blood that wasn’t hers.

“mina,” his voice broke as he approached, his usually composed demeanor shattered by panic. he crouched in front of her, his hands hovering uncertainly before finally gripping her shoulders. “what happened? where are they?”

mina looked up at him, her face pale and streaked with tears, her lips quivering as if the words refused to leave her. she opened her mouth, but all that came out was a choked sob.

“mina,” he pressed, his voice trembling, desperate for answers. “did… did they—” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, but his eyes searched hers for confirmation, for denial, for something. “the cops… they said they got shot. is it true?”

mina’s head dipped low, her hair falling over her face as she began to shake. “i… i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, cracking with each word. “it’s my fault. they… they took the bullet for me.”

your father froze, the weight of her words sinking into him like a leaden anchor. his face contorted, a mix of pain and disbelief flashing across his features. “they… they took a bullet for you?” he echoed, his voice strained.

mina nodded, her tears falling freely now. “i told them— i didn't want them... i—” her voice broke entirely, and she buried her face in her bloodied hands, the guilt crushing her like a wave. “i’m so sorry. i couldn’t stop them. i couldn’t—”

your father’s throat tightened as he watched her crumble in front of him. for a moment, he was silent, his own emotions warring between anger, fear, and overwhelming grief. but when he saw the despair etched into mina’s face, his expression softened.

“mina,” he said gently, his voice thick with emotion as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “this isn’t your fault. do you hear me? this isn’t your fault.”

she shook her head violently, her sobs growing louder. “it is. it is. if it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t have—”

“stop.” his voice was firm but kind, cutting through her spiraling thoughts. “listen to me. they made a choice—a reckless, selfless choice. but that’s who they are. they would never let anything happen to the people they care about. you know that.”

mina looked up at him, her face a mess of tears and anguish. he offered her a shaky smile, his own eyes glistening. “they’re strong,” he said, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his own fear. “and they’re fighting right now. we have to believe that.”

just then, hurried footsteps filled the corridor, and mina’s parents appeared, their faces etched with worry. her mother stopped abruptly, her hand flying to her mouth as she saw her daughter—her usually composed, graceful daughter—reduced to a trembling, crying figure on the hospital floor.

“mina…” her father’s voice wavered as he approached, his brows furrowing deeply. he crouched beside her, his large hand resting on her shoulder. “what happened?”

her mother knelt beside her, cupping her face with both hands. “mina, darling, why are you crying? what happened? tell us.”

mina looked at her parents, her tears spilling over once more as she struggled to form the words. “it’s them,” she whispered hoarsely. “they… they got shot.”

her mother’s gasp echoed through the hallway, and her father’s face darkened, his hand tightening slightly on her shoulder.

“they… they took the bullet for me,” mina admitted, her voice cracking again. “they saved me, and now they’re in there, and i don’t even know if—” she broke down entirely, sobbing into her hands as her mother wrapped her in a tight embrace.

her father glanced at your father, his expression hardening. “how could this happen? how could they let it get this far?”

your father sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own grief. “i don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “but we’re all here now. that’s what matters.”

mina’s sobs filled the hallway, a raw, guttural sound that shook everyone to their core. her mother stroked her hair, whispering soothing words, while her father placed a protective arm around both of them.

for the first time in a long while, mina allowed herself to be vulnerable, to let her emotions consume her without restraint. and in that moment, surrounded by her parents and yours, the cold hospital corridor became a place of shared anguish, silent prayers, and fragile hope. -----

the sterile, blinding light of the operating room illuminated the tense faces of the surgical team. the air was thick with urgency, the steady beeping of the heart monitor providing a fragile sense of stability as they worked.

“patient has a gunshot wound to the shoulder,” the lead surgeon announced, his voice firm but calm. “entry wound is clean, but there’s considerable damage to surrounding tissue and suspected involvement of the subclavian artery. prepare for vascular repair. we need to stop the bleeding now.”

the team moved with precision, instruments clinking as they were passed back and forth. a nurse suctioned away the pooling blood, revealing the torn, reddened flesh of the shoulder.

“blood pressure dropping—80 over 50,” a nurse called out, her voice tight with concern.

“let’s move! i need better visualization,” the surgeon barked, his gloved hands steady as he worked to locate the bullet.

the anesthesiologist glanced at the monitors, adjusting the flow of oxygen. “heart rate’s steady for now, but keep an eye on the blood loss.”

another nurse moved swiftly to hang a fresh unit of blood, the crimson liquid flowing into your veins in a desperate attempt to keep your body stable.

“there it is,” the surgeon said, his voice sharp with focus. with delicate movements, he used forceps to carefully grasp the bullet, lodged dangerously close to the subclavian artery. “this is going to be tricky. if we nick the artery…” he trailed off, the implication heavy in the room.

the team held their collective breath as the surgeon maneuvered the bullet free, a small, jagged piece of metal now gleaming under the harsh surgical lights.

“got it,” he announced, dropping the bullet into a metal tray with a soft clink.

a brief sigh of relief rippled through the room, but it was short-lived.

“massive bleeding from the artery,” another surgeon called out. “clamp! now!”

a vascular clamp was quickly applied, and the lead surgeon’s hands moved deftly to repair the torn artery. sutures were placed with precision, the bleeding gradually slowing as the repair took hold.

“pressure’s stabilizing,” the anesthesiologist reported, her voice lighter. “but they’re not out of the woods yet.”

just as the tension seemed to ease, the heart monitor emitted a sudden, piercing tone—a flatline.

“cardiac arrest!” the anesthesiologist shouted, her hands flying to adjust the oxygen flow.

the room erupted into chaos.

“start compressions, now!” the lead surgeon barked, stepping back to let the nurse press down on your chest with calculated force.

the defibrillator was rolled closer, its cold, clinical whine rising as it charged.

“charging to 200 joules,” the technician announced, their hands moving deftly to attach the pads.

the team collectively held their breath. “clear!”

a jolt coursed through your body, momentarily lifting your chest off the table. all eyes flicked to the monitor, desperate for a sign.

nothing.

“no response,” the anesthesiologist confirmed, her voice tight.

“charge to 300. we’re not losing them!” the surgeon growled, his determination cutting through the fear that gripped the room.

“charging to 300. clear!”

the second shock surged through your body, the room eerily silent except for the sound of the defibrillator and the flatline that still screamed from the monitor.

“come on, fight!” the nurse performing compressions shouted, her voice cracking.

the surgeon’s hands clenched into fists as he stared at the monitor, willing it to flicker back to life.

but it didn’t.

“one milligram of epinephrine,” the anesthesiologist called, injecting the medication into your IV line in a last-ditch effort.

they waited, the flatline echoing in their ears, time stretching unbearably.

the surgeon’s voice was heavy, nearly broken. “resume compressions. we go again.”

the camera of your life seemed to pan away, leaving the sterile lights of the operating room and the frenzied team blurred in the distance. the cold, unrelenting sound of the flatline remained, cutting through the quiet despair. -----

the waiting room had grown eerily quiet, save for the muffled hum of hospital machinery and the occasional announcement over the intercom. mina had finally fallen asleep on one of the stiff chairs, her head resting awkwardly against the armrest. her parents and your father sat nearby, their exhaustion etched into their faces.

your father leaned back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face before reaching into the inner pocket of his coat. when his hand emerged, it held a small, slightly worn photo, the corners bent from years of handling. he stared at it for a moment, a faint, wistful smile tugging at his lips before he slid it across the table toward mina’s parents.

“you know,” he began, his voice low and soft, “they were always fearless, even as a kid. this was taken during their swimming lessons—back when they were training for lifeguard certification. they were only seven, but already saved a kid at that age.”

mina’s mother picked up the photo, her brows knitting together as she studied the image. in it, a young version of you stood at the edge of the water, goggles pushed up onto your forehead, your grin wide and confident. the waves crashed behind them, but you didn’t seem to care—fearless, just as your father had said.

“this beach…” mina’s father murmured, leaning closer to get a better look. his eyes narrowed slightly, as though he was trying to place it. “it looks familiar.”

your father nodded, his smile tinged with nostalgia. “it’s a small cove down south. we used to visit every summer when they were younger. they loved the water—spent more time swimming than on the sand. always said they want to save more people some day.”

mina’s mother’s expression suddenly shifted, her lips parting as if a long-buried memory had just surfaced. she glanced at her husband, her voice trembling slightly. “do you remember, darling? that summer… the beach we used to visit every year when mina was a child?”

mina’s father straightened, his eyes widening as realization dawned. “of course. we went there every year until she was about six or seven. but…” his voice trailed off, his brow furrowing. “there was that one time—”

“when she almost drowned,” mina’s mother finished, her voice barely above a whisper. she clutched the photo tighter, her hand trembling. “she was playing in the shallows, but the tide came in so fast. we couldn’t reach her in time. she was pulled under…” her voice broke, and she glanced at her husband, tears welling in her eyes.

“but someone saved her,” mina’s father added, his tone growing steadier. “a child. they pulled her out of the water and brought her back to the shore. by the time we got to her, the child was gone. we never even got their name.”

your father’s eyes sharpened, and he leaned forward. “you thought it wasn't a lifeguard?”

mina’s father nodded. “yes, they had short hair and goggles. we assumed…” he trailed off, glancing back at the photo.

“it was bambam,” mina’s mother said suddenly, her voice tinged with certainty. “at least, that’s what we thought. he’d gone to the beach with his family the same summer. we assumed he was the one who saved her because she mentioned playing with him that day. that’s why they became so close afterward—she believed he’d saved her life.”

your father’s lips parted slightly, his gaze flicking back to the photo. “but it wasn’t bambam,” he murmured, his voice laced with quiet disbelief keeping the information to himself.

your father’s gaze sharpened, and he leaned forward, his breath catching in his throat. “how old was mina?”

“six,” her mother replied, her voice trembling as she looked at the photo again. “it was that beach. i’m sure of it now. and the child who saved her… they had the same goggles.” she said smiling as she points to the picture of you wearing your goggles

the weight of her words settled over the room like a thick fog. your father exhaled sharply, his hand running through his hair. “so it was them,” he murmured, almost to himself.

but before anyone could say more, the sound of hurried footsteps and urgent voices echoed down the hallway. the three of them turned toward the source of the commotion, their conversation forgotten in an instant.

“we need extra hands in OR-2!” a nurse called out, her voice tight with urgency as she pushed a gurney past the waiting area.

mina stirred at the noise, her eyes fluttering open just as her parents stood. “what’s happening?” she asked groggily, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

her mother rushed to her side, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “it’s nothing, sweetheart. just stay here and rest.”

but mina’s eyes narrowed, her gaze darting toward the direction the nurses had gone. “no,” she said, her voice firm despite the hoarseness. she stood abruptly, swaying slightly before steadying herself. “it’s them, isn’t it? something’s wrong.”

“mina, wait—” her father started, but she was already moving, her footsteps unsteady but determined as she followed the voices.

when she reached the double doors leading to the emergency room, they slammed shut in front of her, the red “authorized personnel only” sign glaring back at her like a cruel taunt. she pounded on the door, her fists hitting the cold metal with a desperation that matched the tears streaming down her face.

“let me in!” she cried, her voice breaking as her parents caught up to her, trying to pull her back. “please, let me in! i need to see them!”

“mina,” her mother pleaded, wrapping her arms around her daughter and pulling her away from the door. “you can’t go in there. they’re doing everything they can. you have to trust them.”

but mina shook her head violently, her sobs tearing through her chest. “i can’t just wait out here! i can’t—” her voice cracked, and she slumped against her mother, her strength giving out as the weight of everything came crashing down.

behind the doors, the muffled chaos of the emergency room continued, a cruel reminder of how close you were to slipping away. and all mina could do was cry, her tears soaking into her mother’s shoulder as her father held them both, his own face etched with a pain he couldn’t hide. -----

FLASHBACK

the sun hung high in the cloudless sky, bathing the beach in golden light. the sound of waves crashing against the shore mixed with the laughter of children playing tag and the whistle blows from the lifeguard stations scattered along the coast.

you were only seven, but the confidence you carried made you seem older. the red lifeguard shirt you wore was oversized, practically swallowing your small frame, but you wore it like a badge of honor. you were in training, after all—a junior lifeguard, part of the summer program for kids who wanted to help keep the beach safe.

“all right, everyone, focus!” your coach, a burly man with a booming voice, called out as he demonstrated CPR techniques on a dummy. the group of kids around you nodded earnestly, some practicing the motions on their own.

you were about to ask a question when a piercing scream shattered the idyllic scene.

“mina! someone, help! my daughter—she’s in the water!”

your head snapped toward the sound. a woman stood at the edge of the shore, her hands clutching her face in sheer panic. her cries were frantic, desperate, as she pointed toward the deeper waters.

“please, help her! she’s drowning!”

the beach seemed to freeze for a moment before erupting into chaos. a man—you assumed it was her husband—was already sprinting into the water, his movements frantic as he searched for his daughter. lifeguards nearby grabbed their equipment, blowing whistles and shouting orders to clear the area.

“stay put, all of you!” your coach barked, his eyes narrowing at your group. “this is no place for kids. the professionals will handle it.”

but your feet were already moving before the words registered. adrenaline coursed through your veins, and you couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

“hey! stop!” one of the older lifeguards shouted as you tore past him, but you didn’t listen. your gaze was locked on the water, on the faint glimpse of something—or someone—struggling against the current.

the waves grew stronger the farther you went, and the saltwater stung your eyes, but you pressed on. you could barely make out the small, flailing figure just ahead.

mina.

she was six, her tiny arms thrashing as the tide pulled her under. her face would surface for a fleeting moment before disappearing again, her cries muffled by the roar of the ocean.

your heart pounded as you pushed through the water, your breath labored but determined. the world around you seemed to blur—her mother’s screams, the shouts from the lifeguards, the crashing waves—all of it faded into the background.

you reached out, your fingers brushing against her arm just as another wave dragged her under.

“got you,” you muttered under your breath, lunging forward and grabbing her firmly. her body was cold, her movements weak, but she was still breathing—barely.

“hold on,” you said, though you weren’t sure if she could hear you.

with every ounce of strength you had, you kicked against the current, pulling her toward the shore. the weight of her small frame and the force of the waves made it harder than anything you’d ever done before, but you refused to let go.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, your feet found the sandy bottom. you dragged her the rest of the way, collapsing onto the wet sand as the lifeguards rushed toward you.

you barely registered the commotion—the parents crying out, the lifeguards checking her vitals. all you knew was that she was breathing, her tiny chest rising and falling shakily.

“kid, what were you thinking?” your coach’s voice cut through the haze, equal parts furious and relieved as he grabbed your shoulder.

“i… i couldn’t just watch,” you said, your voice trembling but firm.

he stared at you for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “go back to the group. now.”

you glanced back at the girl—mina, though you didn’t know her name at the time—as her parents gathered her into their arms, tears streaming down their faces. her mother held her close, while her father looked up at the lifeguards, his gratitude spilling out in hurried words.

you didn’t stay to hear it. slipping away quietly, you returned to your group, your coach’s sharp gaze following you the entire time.

it wasn’t until much later that you realized you hadn’t even introduced yourself. maybe fate will bring you back together and you can save her life again? -----

the morgue was unbearably cold, the kind of chill that seeped into bones and refused to leave. the fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting an almost sickly hue over the room.

on the steel table, a body lay motionless, shrouded in a pristine white sheet. the stillness in the room was deafening, broken only by the subdued murmurs of two doctors standing at the foot of the table.

“no pulse,” one of them said quietly, their voice flat yet tinged with exhaustion. their gloved hand slipped away from beneath the sheet, as if reluctant to confirm the obvious.

“it’s over,” the other replied, their tone heavy with resignation as they glanced at the monitor nearby. the jagged peaks of a heartbeat were absent, replaced by an unwavering flatline.

“time of death…” the first doctor paused, their gaze lowering to the clipboard in their hand. “1:43 a.m.” the words hung in the air, suffocating, final.

the second doctor let out a small sigh, setting down the stethoscope they’d been holding. their hands moved to remove the sheet, revealing just enough of the figure beneath to confirm details for the report. the stark contrast of lifeless pale skin against the sterile steel table felt almost too vivid under the artificial light.

“they lost too much blood,” one of them murmured, more to themselves than anyone else. “there was nothing else we could’ve done.”

there was no reply. only the faint scratching of a pen against paper as the first doctor began documenting the events, their writing meticulous and methodical, but their expression betrayed the weight of the moment.

“what a shame,” the second doctor finally muttered, shaking their head. “so young.”

the first doctor nodded absently, flipping to the patient file and double-checking details for the report. their fingers lingered on the edge of the page before finally turning it.

there, in stark, clinical handwriting, was the name:

kim jennie.

-----

the white walls of the waiting room seemed to close in as time stretched unbearably thin. mina sat with her head buried in her hands, her trembling fingers curling into her hair. her parents sat beside her, silent but tense, their eyes fixed on the swinging double doors that separated them from whatever fate was being decided beyond.

your father stood, pacing back and forth, his hands fidgeting with the edges of his coat. his usual calm and composed demeanor was nowhere to be found. instead, he looked as though he were barely holding himself together, the strain of the situation etched deeply into his face.

then, the double doors burst open.

two surgeons and a nurse emerged, their scrubs streaked with crimson, their faces pale and worn with exhaustion. the lead surgeon, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and a sharp, clinical gaze, scanned the room briefly before stepping forward.

“mr. and myoui family,” he began, his voice calm but laced with a weight that made the air in the room grow heavier.

mina shot up from her seat, her parents following suit, while your father froze mid-step. the sight of the blood-streaked gloves made their stomachs churn.

“how are they?” your father asked, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

the surgeon pulled off his gloves slowly, methodically, the motion almost maddeningly deliberate. “the situation was... critical,” he started, his eyes meeting theirs, but his expression gave away nothing.

mina felt her knees buckle, her mother’s hand quickly steadying her. “please,” mina’s voice cracked, raw and desperate. “just tell us. are they... are they okay?”

the surgeon let out a slow breath, glancing briefly at the others before continuing. “we encountered severe complications—”

mina’s heart dropped, the room spinning.

“—but we managed to stabilize them in time.”

it took a moment for the words to sink in. your father blinked, as though trying to process what he had just heard. “they’re... they’re okay?” he asked, his voice trembling.

the surgeon nodded. “they lost a significant amount of blood, but the bullet missed any major arteries. we were able to stop the internal bleeding and repair the damage. they’re not out of the woods yet, but they’re alive and stable. they’ll need close monitoring and time to recover.”

mina let out a strangled sob, her hands flying to her mouth as tears streamed down her face. her parents wrapped their arms around her, relief flooding through them in waves.

your father staggered back, his legs giving way as he sank into a chair. his hands covered his face, his shoulders shaking as the tension that had gripped him finally broke.

“can we see them?” mina’s father asked, his voice thick with emotion.

the surgeon hesitated, glancing back at the doors. “not yet. they’re still in recovery, and we need to monitor them closely for the next few hours. but i assure you, we’ll let you know as soon as they can have visitors.”

mina nodded, her tears unstoppable but now tinged with relief.

the surgeon offered a small, reassuring smile, though his exhaustion was evident. “they’re lucky,” he added, his voice soft. “it was a close call, but they’re strong. they fought through it.”

as he turned and walked back through the doors, the weight in the room began to lift, replaced by a fragile sense of hope.

mina collapsed back into her seat, her body trembling with the aftershocks of fear and relief. “thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, though she wasn’t sure who she was thanking—the surgeon, the universe, or whoever had been listening to her silent prayers.

the waiting room fell quiet again, but this time, the silence was different. it wasn’t the oppressive weight of dread but the tentative stillness of hope, fragile and delicate, yet unwavering.

-----

mina sat slumped in the chair by your bed, her face buried in her hands. the hospital room was suffocatingly quiet, save for the constant beeping of the heart monitor. her hair was a mess, dark strands sticking to her tear-streaked cheeks.

"you know, you could at least twitch or something," she muttered, her voice muffled. "just to let me know you’re still in there. but no, you have to be dramatic about it."

she let out a humorless laugh, looking up at you with red, swollen eyes. "you’re probably loving this, aren’t you? making me sit here, worrying myself sick while you take a nap. typical."

she reached out to brush a strand of hair off your forehead, her fingers lingering for a moment. "you always were stubborn," she murmured, her voice softening. "but this is just cruel."

time passed in a blur, the hospital room becoming a constant in her life. her parents had tried coaxing her to leave, even for just a few hours, but she refused. the thought of not being there when you woke up—because you would wake up—was unbearable.

hiro had visited once, his tiny voice breaking through the heavy silence. “mama, when will they wake up?” he’d asked, his big eyes filled with worry.

mina knelt to his level, forcing a smile despite the lump in her throat. "soon, sweetheart," she said, brushing a hand through his hair. "they’re just resting."

but as soon as he left with momo, mina’s resolve crumbled again. she refused food, refused sleep, refused to leave your side. her parents had to practically force her to drink water.

"you look like a zombie, mina," sana had said, plopping down in the chair opposite her. "honestly, if they wake up and see you like this, they might pass out again."

mina had glared at her, too tired to come up with a witty retort. "thanks for the pep talk, sana."

"anytime," sana had replied, leaning back in her chair. "but seriously, eat something. you’re not helping anyone by starving yourself."

now, hours later, mina was back to silently begging you to wake up. she leaned over the bed, her hands gripping the rails as tears welled up in her eyes.

"if you can hear me," she whispered, her voice shaking, "just… just give me something. a twitch, a blink, anything. please."

suddenly, your fingers twitched. mina froze, her heart leaping into her throat.

"no way," she breathed, staring at your hand like it had just performed a magic trick. then your eyes fluttered open, and she gasped, stumbling back so hard she almost tripped over the chair.

"you’re awake," she whispered, her voice trembling. she turned, ready to run out and call for a doctor, but a weak tug on her wrist stopped her.

mina turned back, her eyes wide as you held onto her. your breathing mask muffled your words, but she could still make them out. "are you… okay?"

she blinked, her jaw dropping. "am i okay?" she repeated, her voice rising in disbelief. "you almost died, and you’re asking if i’m okay?"

your lips curved into the faintest smile. "you look like… you haven’t slept in days."

"because i haven’t!" she snapped, though the tears streaming down her face betrayed her anger. "do you think I’ve been here doing yoga? i’ve been losing my mind, waiting for you to wake up!"

you squeezed her hand weakly, your eyes soft despite the exhaustion clouding them. "sorry… didn’t mean to worry you."

"oh, you didn’t mean to—" she cut herself off with a shaky laugh, her emotions swinging wildly between relief and frustration. she wiped at her tears with the back of her hand. "you’re impossible."

your smile faded as you gazed at her, your voice barely above a whisper. "mina… are you okay?"

her breath caught, her hands trembling as she gripped the bed rails. "why are you worried about me?" she choked out, her voice cracking. "you’re the one who almost—"

she couldn’t finish the sentence, the weight of it too much to bear. instead, she collapsed into the chair beside you, her head resting against your arm as her tears soaked into the hospital gown.

"i love you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "and you’re not allowed to scare me like this again. do you hear me? never again."

-----

you leaned back against the headboard, exhaustion sinking deep into your bones. the machines around you hummed softly, their steady rhythm the only sound in the quiet hospital room. mina sat at the edge of your bed, her freshly washed hair falling over her shoulders, her fingers twisting the edge of her sweater.

she hadn’t spoken much all day, but you could feel the storm brewing inside her. when she finally broke the silence, her voice was trembling, barely above a whisper.

"this is all my fault."

you turned your head, your brows furrowing. "mina—"

"don’t," she interrupted, her voice sharp and cracking all at once. she looked up, her eyes rimmed red, tears glistening like they were ready to fall at any moment. "don’t tell me it’s not. if i hadn’t… if i hadn’t done what i did, none of this would’ve happened."

you stared at her, unsure of how to respond. the weight of her guilt was suffocating, and you could feel it pressing down on both of you.

"you wouldn’t be here," she continued, her voice breaking. "you wouldn’t be lying in this bed, hooked up to these machines, barely able to breathe on your own. i did this to you."

"mina, stop," you said softly, your voice carrying the kind of weariness that only comes from surviving something that should’ve ended you.

she ignored you, her tears spilling over as she buried her face in her hands. "i ruined everything. i destroyed us. and now… now you’re suffering because of me."

your chest ached—not just from the physical pain but from the sight of her breaking down in front of you. you reached out, your hand weak and trembling, and placed it over hers. "mina, listen to me."

she shook her head, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. "how can you even look at me? after everything i did… i betrayed you. i broke your trust. and now i’m watching you pay the price for my mistakes."

"mina," you said, your voice firmer this time. she stopped, her tear-filled eyes meeting yours, and you could see the sheer depth of her guilt staring back at you.

"this isn’t just your fault," you said quietly. her eyes widened, and you pressed on before she could interrupt. "it’s mine too."

her mouth opened, but no words came out. you took a shaky breath, willing yourself to say what you’d been avoiding.

"before the accident… even before i lost my memory, i forgot something important. i forgot how much you mean to me. i let myself get so blindsided by what you did that i decided to forget how much i loved you. i forgot to be there for you… through thick and thin, like we promised."

mina’s breath hitched, her hands flying to her mouth as if the words had physically struck her.

"i convinced myself that it didn’t matter anymore," you continued, your voice cracking. "that we didn’t matter. and i let that anger consume me. i stopped fighting for us, mina. i stopped loving you."

she let out a choked sob, shaking her head in disbelief. "no… you didn’t deserve this. none of this is your fault."

"it is," you said, your voice trembling. "because love isn’t just about being there when it’s easy. it’s about being there when it’s hard—when it hurts. and i wasn’t. i let my pride and my pain get in the way of us."

"but i pushed you away," she whispered, her tears streaming freely now. "i made the mistake. i broke us."

"and i let us stay broken," you said, your voice soft but resolute. "mina, we both failed. we hurt each other. but we’re still here. we’re still breathing. and that has to mean something."

her shoulders trembled as she wiped at her tears, her voice shaking. "how can you still say that? after everything i’ve done… how can you still believe in us?"

"because we made a promise," you said, your gaze locking with hers. "through sickness and health, right? through thick and thin. i forgot that before, but i’m not forgetting it now."

mina let out a shaky laugh, the sound tinged with disbelief and sorrow. "you’re too good for me," she whispered, her hands reaching out to cup your face. "you always have been."

"and you’re too stubborn to give up," you said, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite the tears in your eyes. "so let’s stop pretending like this is the end. we’ve got too much left to fight for."

she stared at you, her lips trembling as fresh tears spilled over. then, slowly, she leaned in, her forehead pressing against yours.

"i’m sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "i’m so sorry for everything."

"me too," you said, your voice barely audible. "but we’re here now. and that’s what matters."

for a moment, the weight of everything—of the past, the pain, the mistakes—lifted just enough for hope to shine through. and for the first time in what felt like forever, you both allowed yourselves to believe in the possibility of something better.

-----

you were propped up on the hospital bed, still stiff and sore from the accident. mina sat on the chair beside you, her eyes glued to her phone as she scrolled through some article. the quiet hum of the machines filled the room, and you were grateful for the rare moment of peace.

“you look like you’re trying not to fall asleep,” you muttered, breaking the silence.

mina glanced at you, her brow arching. “and you look like you’re trying not to breathe too hard. what’s your point?”

you snorted, instantly regretting it as a sharp pain shot through your chest. you winced, clutching your side. “ow. damn it, mina, don’t make me laugh.”

mina’s teasing demeanor vanished instantly. “hey, are you okay?” she asked, leaning closer. "i didn't even say anything funny!"

“your face is funny enough,” you shot back weakly, smirking.

mina rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “wow, the audacity of someone who can’t even sit up straight without looking like they’re about to pass out.”

despite the pain, you chuckled again, wincing as you did. “stop, seriously. my body hurts. i think even my eyelashes are sore.”

mina bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her. “fine, fine. no more jokes. you’re too fragile right now.”

“fragile? i’m indestructible,” you retorted, though your grimace immediately undermined your words.

she shook her head, finally letting out a laugh—soft, warm, and entirely unintentional. the sound was enough to make your chest feel lighter, even if it physically hurt.

“you’re impossible,” she said, shaking her head fondly.

“and you’re still here,” you replied, your voice softer now.

before she could respond, a stifled noise echoed from the hallway. neither of you paid it much attention, too caught up in your exchange.

“fine,” mina said, crossing her arms dramatically. “i’ll just sit here and be silent, then. you can entertain yourself.”

“finally,” you said, leaning back against the pillows, trying to hide your grin.

she stared at you for a few seconds, then muttered, “you’re insufferable.”

you couldn’t help it—you laughed again, only to immediately groan in pain. “stop it, seriously,” you said, wincing.

“stop what? i’m not even trying!” mina said defensively, though the smile on her face betrayed her amusement.

what neither of you realized was that you weren’t alone. just outside the slightly ajar door stood mina’s parents, your father, momo, and sana, all watching silently with amused expressions.

“look at them,” mina’s dad whispered, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“they’re falling in love all over again,” your dad added, his voice tinged with warmth.

“ugh, it’s so cute it hurts,” sana said quietly, clutching her chest dramatically.

momo, on the other hand, looked completely indifferent to the emotional scene unfolding in front of her. “wait, my bag’s still inside,” she muttered, squinting at the room.

“seriously, momo?” sana groaned, smacking her arm lightly. “love is literally in the air, and you’re worried about your bag?”

“well, it’s a nice bag,” momo muttered defensively, crossing her arms.

“let’s give them some space,” mina’s dad said, smiling as he placed a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder. “we’ve got some time to grab a meal anyway. i’m sure they could use the quiet.”

“yes! food!” momo’s eyes lit up, her previous concerns about the bag instantly forgotten. “where are we going?”

sana rolled her eyes but followed the group as they began to leave, herding momo along like an unruly child.

“don’t forget your bag,” sana muttered sarcastically.

“oh, thanks for reminding me!” momo chirped, turning back briefly before sana dragged her away.

“sorry about her. she’s been like this since middle school.” sana mumbles shaking her head in disapproval

“have not!” momo protested, but sana didn’t let her finish, dragging her out of the hall.

mina’s mom stifled a laugh, shaking her head. “let’s leave them alone. they deserve this moment.”

with that, the group quietly stepped away, though not without sana muttering something about momo’s terrible sense of priorities.

inside the room, completely unaware of your guy's audience, you and mina finally fell into a comfortable silence. as the door clicked shut, you glanced at her, watching the soft smile playing on her lips.

“what?” she asked, catching your gaze.

“nothing,” you replied, shaking your head. “just… thanks for being here.”

she reached out, her fingers brushing yours lightly. “where else would i be?”

the moment lingered, warm and full of unspoken words, as the world outside seemed to melt away.

love was definitely in the air.

-----

you leaned back against the headboard, finally able to sit up without wincing every two seconds. mina perched on the edge of the bed, the tray of soup balanced on her lap. she held up a spoonful, her expression somewhere between patient nurse and smug caretaker.

“okay, open up,” she said, her tone light but commanding.

you raised an eyebrow. “you know, you’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“and you’re really stalling,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes playfully. “now eat before i dump this on your lap.”

you sighed dramatically, opening your mouth. the soup was warm and soothing, but you made a show of smacking your lips like a child. “wow, this is... edible.”

“oh, you did not just insult my soup,” mina said, her jaw dropping in mock offense. “you know i made this from scratch, right?”

“scratch, huh?” you teased, pretending to examine the spoon. “does ‘scratch’ mean opening a can now?”

mina gasped, setting the tray down on the bedside table. “that’s it. starve.”

you reached out, grabbing her wrist before she could retreat. “okay, okay! i take it back. it’s amazing. the best soup i’ve ever had. michelin-star worthy.”

“that’s what i thought,” she said, smirking as she picked up the spoon again.

after a few more bites, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“what’s so funny?” mina asked, eyeing you suspiciously.

“this just feels so... different,” you admitted, leaning back. “last time she tried to feed me like this it was like my body rejected her.”

mina’s eyes widened. “wait—are you serious?”

“it was jennie,” you admitted with a chuckle. “she wouldn’t stop fussing over me. i couldn’t stand it.”

mina couldn’t hold back her laughter, a soft, melodic sound that filled the room. “so you were a menace, huh?”

“a certified menace,” you confirmed, smirking. “but with you? it’s easy. comforting, even.”

her laughter faded, replaced by a soft smile that made your chest ache in a completely different way. she didn’t say anything, but her eyes spoke volumes.

“you’re full of surprises,” she said after a moment, scooping up another spoonful.

“oh, you have no idea,” you replied, leaning forward slightly.

she tilted her head. “oh? care to elaborate?”

“did you know i used to train to be a lifeguard?” you said, leaning back with a smug grin.

mina blinked. “a lifeguard? you?”

“yep. saved a couple of lives,” you said casually, as if it were no big deal.

“are you sure you didn’t just sit on the chair looking cool with sunglasses?” she teased.

“hey, i’ll have you know i was fully certified,” you said, feigning offense. “you’re looking at a hero, mina.”

she snorted, shaking her head. “all right, hero. what else?”

“well,” you said, pretending to think, “i was also a karate and boxing champion. black belt.”

mina stared at you, her jaw dropping. “are you even real?”

“and,” you continued, ignoring her disbelief, “i played a few instruments growing up. piano, guitar, drums—you name it.”

she groaned, throwing her head back. “is there anything you didn’t do?”

“i’m just answering your questions,” you said with a shrug. “oh, and i was also class president. twice.”

mina narrowed her eyes. “okay, now you’re just bragging.”

“hey, you asked,” you said, smirking.

she groaned, throwing her head back. “how am i supposed to compete with that?”

“you don’t have to,” you said, your tone softening. “you’re already perfect.”

mina froze, her cheeks turning pink. “stop being cheesy.”

“i mean it,” you said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “you’re everything, mina.”

mina paused, her hand stilling for just a moment before she let out a small laugh. “you’re just saying that because i’m feeding you.”

“no, seriously,” you said, sitting up a little more. “i feel like... i don’t know enough about you. like, really know you.”

she blinked, clearly caught off guard. “you already know plenty.”

“not really,” you said, shaking your head. “we jumped straight into this marriage without... taking the time. and i want to know everything, mina. the good, the bad, the embarrassing.”

mina hesitated, her gaze dropping to the bowl in her hands. “everything?”

“everything,” you repeated, your voice soft.

she exhaled slowly, setting the bowl down on the bedside table. “okay... but don’t laugh.”

“no promises,” you said, grinning.

she rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile on her face. “well... when i was a kid, i wanted to be a ballerina. i even took lessons for years.”

“that tracks,” you said, nodding. “you’re ridiculously graceful.”

mina’s cheeks turned pink. “yeah, well... i quit when i was thirteen. i didn’t think i was good enough.”

“that’s impossible,” you said immediately. “you’re good at everything.”

“i’m not,” she said quietly. “but thanks for thinking that.”

you frowned, leaning forward a little. “what else? tell me more.”

she bit her lip, thinking. “i used to collect plushies. like, obsessively. my entire bed was covered in them. my parents used to joke that there wasn’t room for me to sleep.”

you laughed, the image of a younger mina surrounded by plushies too adorable to handle. “do you still have them?”

“some,” she admitted, smiling. “but most of them are in storage.”

“we’re bringing them out,” you said firmly. “i want to see them all, and i want to know what you named them.”

mina laughed, a genuine, melodic sound that made your chest ache in the best way. “you’re ridiculous.”

“you married me,” you pointed out, grinning.

she shook her head, but the smile didn’t leave her face. “fine. your turn again.”

“what else do you want to know?” you asked.

she tilted her head, studying you. “what’s something embarrassing about you? something no one else knows?”

you groaned, leaning back. “you’re really gonna make me do this, huh?”

“absolutely,” she said, smirking.

“okay, fine,” you said, sighing. “when i was ten, i tried to impress this kid at school by climbing a tree. long story short, i got stuck, cried for half an hour, and had to be rescued by a fireman.”

mina burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand. “you’re kidding.”

“i wish,” you said, grinning despite yourself. “it was the most humiliating day of my life.”

“that’s amazing,” she said, still laughing. “i can’t believe you’ve been a hero and a damsel in distress.”

“hey, it’s called range,” you said, smirking.

her eyes softened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. then, almost instinctively, you leaned forward, and she met you halfway.

the kiss was gentle at first, her lips warm against yours. but as the moment deepened, it became something more—something raw and unspoken.

when you finally pulled back, mina’s face was flushed, her eyes wide. “you... you’re supposed to be resting.”

“can’t help it,” you said, grinning. “you’re impossible to resist.”

mina buried her face in her hands, groaning. “you’re going to be the death of me.”

“better me than your soup,” you teased.

“that’s it,” she said, reaching for the tray. “i’m done feeding you.”

you laughed, grabbing her wrist again. “okay, okay! truce?”

she laughed softly, shaking her head. “you’re annoying.”

“and you’re perfect,” you said, grinning.

“stop,” she said, rolling her eyes. but the way she squeezed your hand told you she didn’t really want you to.

and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt exactly as it should.

-----

hiro climbed up on the bed with an air of determination, his tiny hands gripping the edge of the blanket as he hauled himself up beside you. “are you still sick?” he asked, tilting his head, his round eyes wide with concern.

“not sick, just tired,” you replied, ruffling his hair gently. “but i’m getting better, thanks to you and your mom.”

“me?” hiro asked, pointing to himself.

“yeah, you,” you said, grinning. “your hugs are magical, didn’t you know?”

his face lit up. “i have magic hugs?”

“the best ones,” you said, pulling him closer for a quick squeeze.

hiro giggled, settling in beside you. “mommy said i can stay for a little while. can i show you something?”

“of course,” you said, leaning back against the headboard. “what do you got?”

hiro pulled out a small stack of drawings from behind his back, spreading them out proudly on your lap. “i drew these! this one is you, and this one is mommy, and this one is me!”

you picked up the drawing of yourself, smiling at the colorful stick figure wearing a cape. “you made me a superhero?”

“because you are!” he said earnestly. “you saved mommy and me.”

your chest tightened, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. “thanks, buddy. this is the best drawing I’ve ever seen.”

“really?” he beamed.

“really,” you said, reaching for another drawing. “what’s this one?”

“that’s us at the beach!” hiro said excitedly. “we’re building a sandcastle, and mommy is bringing us snacks!”

“sounds like a perfect day,” you said, smiling. “we’ll have to make that happen when I’m better.”

hiro’s eyes lit up. “promise?”

“promise,” you said, holding out your pinky. he linked his tiny pinky with yours, sealing the deal.

after a few more minutes of showing you his artwork and telling you elaborate stories about his drawings, hiro started to yawn.

“getting sleepy?” you asked, brushing his hair back gently.

“no,” he mumbled, but his eyelids were already drooping.

“come here,” you said, shifting slightly to make room for him. he curled up beside you, resting his head on your chest.

within minutes, his breathing evened out, and you realized he’d fallen asleep. you couldn’t help but smile, your hand resting lightly on his back.

you watched him for a moment, your chest tightening with a warmth you couldn’t quite describe. it felt… perfect.

a soft click made you open them again, and you spotted mina standing in the doorway, her phone in hand.

“are you taking pictures of us?” you whispered, raising an eyebrow.

“maybe,” she said, grinning. “you two are too cute to resist.”

“blackmail material for when he’s older?” you teased.

“absolutely,” mina said, stepping closer. her gaze softened as she looked at the two of you. “but mostly because I don’t want to forget this moment.”

“come join us,” you said, patting the empty space beside you.

she hesitated, then shook her head. “i don’t want to wake him. besides, you both look too peaceful.”

you smiled, your heart swelling as you looked down at hiro. “thanks for giving me this.”

mina’s eyes glistened, and she leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “thank you for being his hero.”

“always,” you murmured, closing your eyes again.

hiro had curled up beside you, his little hand clutching yours as he let out soft, steady breaths. you adjusted the blanket over him, careful not to wake him, and leaned back against the pillows. your own eyelids felt heavy, the steady rhythm of hiro’s breathing lulling you closer to sleep.

just as your head began to droop, you felt the bed shift slightly. mina had slipped in beside you, moving with practiced care. she settled on hiro’s other side, her movements slow and deliberate.

“you’re sneaky,” you mumbled sleepily, cracking one eye open.

“shh,” she whispered. “go back to sleep.”

you didn’t have to be told twice. within moments, you’d drifted off, the warmth of hiro tucked against you and mina’s presence on the other side filling the space with quiet comfort.

at some point, mina must have nodded off, too. she lay with her head resting against your shoulder, her arm draped protectively over hiro. the three of you looked like the picture of peace, nestled together as if the world outside didn’t exist.

the door creaked open softly, and a muffled gasp broke the silence.

“oh. my. god,” momo whispered dramatically.

“look at this,” sana chimed in, her voice equally hushed but tinged with excitement.

“don’t wake them,” your dad said, though he didn’t stop himself from pulling out his phone.

mina’s parents leaned in closer, their faces lit up with soft smiles. “it’s perfect,” her mom whispered, snapping a photo.

“we should frame this,” momo said, her face practically glowing with mischief.

“or make it the family holiday card,” sana added with a smirk.

“don’t be ridiculous,” mina’s dad said, though even he was taking pictures with his phone.

hiro stirred slightly but didn’t wake, and neither did you or mina. the family quickly tiptoed out of the room, whispering excitedly among themselves.

the three of you stayed sound asleep, unaware of the impromptu photo session that had just taken place.

and somewhere in the haze of sleep, mina shifted closer to you, her head resting comfortably against yours as her hand brushed against your arm. if she was awake, she might have blushed. but for now, she was content, her family whole and happy in the quiet glow of the moment.

-----

the day was perfect for a family outing—blue skies, a gentle breeze, and the sound of kids laughing echoing across the park. hiro was practically buzzing with energy, darting toward the playground the moment you stepped foot onto the grass. you and mina strolled behind him, fingers brushing occasionally as you walked.

settling onto a bench near the jungle gym, you watched hiro scale a climbing wall that was clearly meant for older kids. “look at him go,” you said with a chuckle, shaking your head. “he thinks he’s training for the olympics or something.”

mina smirked, resting her chin in her hand. “he gets it from you. always aiming higher than necessary.”

“oh, so now it’s my fault?” you teased, nudging her gently.

she laughed softly, and for a moment, everything felt easy, natural. her hand slid toward yours, her fingers brushing over your palm, but as they grazed the spot where your wedding ring used to sit, her smile faltered. she quickly pulled her hand back, tucking it into her lap.

before you could say anything, a cheerful voice cut through the air.

“well, if it isn’t my favorite troublemaker!”

you turned to see nayeon, her signature bright smile lighting up her face as she approached. “wow, it’s really you!”

“nayeon?” you said, grinning. “what are you doing here?”

“just enjoying the day,” she replied, pulling you into a friendly hug. “and look at you! you’re looking so much better than the last time i saw you.”

mina’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as she watched the interaction, her fingers tightening slightly on the edge of the bench.

“uh, nayeon, this is my wife, mina, you've met her before.” you said, gesturing toward her.

“mina! i’ve heard so much about you,” nayeon said, extending a hand. “it’s great to meet you again.”

mina smiled politely, though her grip was firmer than necessary. “likewise.”

“nayeon’s an acquintance,” you explained, glancing at mina. “we met—”

“at a bar,” nayeon interrupted with a laugh. “you remember that? you were sitting there looking like the world had ended, and i had to save you from being lonely?”

mina’s smile tightened. “how… kind of you.”

“it was nothing,” nayeon said with a shrug. “but honestly, you were a mess back then. i’m glad to see you’ve got your life together now.”

mina’s eyebrow twitched. “yes, well, they’ve had plenty of support.”

nayeon didn’t seem to notice the subtle edge in mina’s tone, but you definitely did. when nayeon finally left after some more reminiscing, mina turned to you, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.

“so… she’s just a friend, huh?”

“mina,” you said with a chuckle, “nayeon is like ten years older than me.”

“and?” mina shot back, her lips pursed. “some people don’t care about age. and the way she was looking at you…”

“she wasn’t looking at me any particular way,” you replied, fighting a grin.

mina huffed, crossing her arms tighter. “she practically sparkled every time you smiled at her. i’m surprised she didn’t sit on your lap.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at her jealousy, leaning in closer. “are you seriously jealous right now?”

“i’m not jealous,” she muttered, though the slight blush creeping up her cheeks betrayed her.

“you’re adorable when you’re jealous,” you teased, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

she turned her head away, trying to hide her growing smile. “stop.”

“you’re even cuter when you’re trying to act unbothered,” you added, earning a playful shove from her.

“i’m serious. stop,” she said, though her laughter bubbled up despite herself.

back home, hiro was already knocked out on the couch, clutching a stuffed animal mina had sneakily bought for him earlier in the day. you smiled as you carefully carried him to his room, tucking him in with a soft blanket.

“he had a good day,” you said quietly as you joined mina in the living room.

“we all did,” she replied, her expression warm. but then, she fidgeted, her hands tucked behind her back.

“what’s going on?” you asked, tilting your head.

she stepped closer, revealing what she’d been hiding—a small velvet box. your heart skipped a beat as she opened it to reveal your wedding ring, polished and gleaming like new.

“i’ve been meaning to give you this,” she said softly, her voice trembling just slightly. “i know i hurt you. i know i broke every promise i made when i gave you this ring. but… i want us to start again. to rebuild everything we lost. i still want forever with you. will you… will you take this back?”

your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the ring. her eyes were teary but resolute, her hands trembling ever so slightly.

“you know,” you started, a teasing smile breaking the tension, “for someone who’s not jealous, you sure know how to make a grand gesture.”

she laughed through her tears, swatting your arm lightly. “don’t ruin the moment!”

“i’m not,” you said, your voice softening. “but you don’t have to do all this. it’s not about the ring, mina. it’s about you being here, trying, and loving me.”

her lips quivered as you took the ring from her hand, sliding it back onto your finger. before you could say anything else, she surged forward, pulling you into a deep, desperate kiss. it was as if all her fears, regrets, and hopes were poured into that single moment.

when you finally pulled away, you grinned. “i’m still surprised you kept it all this time.”

“well… i almost threw it into the han river once,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “but momo stopped me.”

“remind me to thank momo later,” you said, laughing softly.

“you better,” she teased, resting her forehead against yours. for the first time in a long while, it felt like everything was falling into place.

-----

the myoui corporation department store was bustling with activity, its modern grandeur commanding attention from every shopper who walked through its pristine halls. mina strode confidently across the glossy floor, her tailored suit accentuating her poise as her assistant, dahyun, trailed closely behind with a tablet in hand.

“dahyun,” mina began, her voice calm yet firm, “i want the third-floor atrium redesigned. we’ve been catering too much to exclusivity. it’s time we incorporated spaces that families with young children can enjoy—play areas, family lounges, and nursing rooms. focus on accessibility and comfort.”

dahyun glanced up from her tablet, blinking in mild surprise. “that’s... not exactly in line with the previous strategy, president myoui.”

mina stopped walking, turning slightly to fix dahyun with a look that was both patient and pointed. “are you suggesting it’s a bad idea?”

“not at all!” dahyun hurriedly replied, her cheeks coloring slightly. “i’ll make sure the revisions are prepared and ready for review.”

mina nodded, resuming her pace. “good. i want the new designs by next week. make it practical, but maintain the quality we’re known for.”

as dahyun scribbled notes furiously, she dared to glance at her boss’s expression. something about mina seemed... softer today. “if you don’t mind me asking, president myoui,” dahyun ventured cautiously, “what brought on this sudden focus on family spaces?”

mina didn’t answer immediately. her gaze softened as she thought of hiro and the way he grinned so brightly whenever they went to the park. “priorities change, dahyun,” she said quietly. “let’s leave it at that.”

meanwhile, across the bustling department store, you were walking with your legal team, engrossed in discussions about upcoming contract negotiations. it had been a few weeks since you’d taken on the role of legal director, and though you were still settling into the position, you couldn’t deny the sense of satisfaction that came with it.

“we’ll finalize the terms for the lease renewal by the end of the month,” one of your team members was saying when you glanced up and spotted mina.

there she was, effortlessly commanding attention as always, her team hanging on her every word. beside her, dahyun was typing furiously, clearly struggling to keep up.

you didn’t think twice. excusing yourself mid-conversation, you picked up your pace, leaving your team to catch up as you made your way toward her.

mina caught sight of you almost immediately, her expression softening in a way that was barely perceptible to anyone but you.

“hey,” you greeted casually, stopping in front of her.

“hey,” she replied, her voice quieter, tinged with surprise.

without hesitation, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, completely oblivious—or perhaps entirely unbothered—by the presence of both your teams. mina’s breath hitched, and for a brief moment, her composure faltered as a faint blush crept up her neck.

dahyun froze, her eyes darting between the two of you. “oh,” she muttered under her breath, her cheeks burning as she quickly pretended to focus on her tablet.

“have you eaten lunch yet?” you asked, your tone light as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

mina blinked, still recovering from the unexpected affection. “not yet. i was planning to after this.”

you nodded, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “good. make sure you actually eat this time, not just sip on black coffee.”

mina rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth betrayed a small smile. “you sound like you’re giving orders now.”

“just taking care of my wife,” you quipped, the words slipping out with ease.

dahyun’s fingers froze mid-typing, her eyes widening as she glanced at mina, whose blush deepened visibly.

“you’re embarrassing me,” mina murmured, though there was no real bite to her words.

you leaned in slightly, your voice low and teasing. “you love it.”

before she could retort, you turned and began walking back to your team, leaving mina standing there with her assistants staring at her in awe.

“president myoui,” dahyun whispered once you were out of earshot, “that was... bold.”

mina sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “focus on the task at hand, dahyun,” she said briskly, though the faint smile on her lips lingered for far longer than she intended.

-----

your new office in the myoui corporation was nothing short of breathtaking. floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the city skyline, sleek furniture that probably cost more than your old car, and a desk so big it could double as a dinner table. mina really went all out.

you stood in the middle of the room, trying to decide where to place the ridiculous bouquet of roses mina had sent earlier with a simple note: “welcome to your new throne. love, mina.”

as you debated whether the flowers would look better on the desk or the small coffee table by the window, the door clicked open behind you. you turned to see mina, elegant as always, stepping in with a soft smile.

"so, how do you like it?" she asked, her voice tinged with pride as her eyes scanned the room and then landed on you.

"i feel like a majesty in here," you replied, gesturing to the plush leather chair behind your desk. "but it’s a little too much, don’t you think?"

"nonsense," mina said, walking closer. "you deserve the best." she leaned against the edge of your desk, crossing her arms. "besides, you’re part of the myoui empire now. appearances matter."

you chuckled, placing the flowers on the desk beside her. "and the hidden minibar? appearances?"

mina’s lips curved into a smirk. "a small indulgence. but," she paused, leaning closer, "if you think that’s over the top, you haven’t seen the… additional renovations i made."

your brows furrowed as you tilted your head. "what renovations?"

mina stood, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor as she strolled to the far side of the office. with a press of a button on the wall, a hidden panel slid open, revealing a small lounge area—complete with a plush sofa, a lockable door, and soundproof walls.

"i figured you might need a space to… relax during long hours," she said, her tone deceptively casual.

you blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks as realization dawned. "mina… this isn’t just for me to relax, is it?"

she shrugged, walking back toward you with that familiar mischievous glint in her eye. "well, it’s not entirely not for you either."

before you could respond, she looped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. "besides," she murmured, her lips brushing against your ear, "i figured it’d be safer to plan ahead. no nosy assistants barging in, no cameras in this section of the floor… completely private."

your hands instinctively found her waist as her lips met yours, the kiss starting slow but quickly deepening. her usual poised demeanor melted into something far more uninhibited as she pressed closer, backing you up against your desk.

"mina, we can’t…" you managed to say between kisses, though your hands betrayed your words, trailing down her back.

"we can," she countered, her voice low and sultry, "and we will. don’t worry. i made sure we wouldn’t get caught."

"you’re dangerous, you know that?" you whispered, your voice low as you looked into mina’s darkening eyes. her smirk widened, her hands moving to loosen the knot of your tie.

"danger is part of the fun," she murmured, her lips ghosting over yours before trailing down your jawline.

your breath hitched when her hands tugged at your tie, pulling you closer until your hips pressed against the desk. the cold surface bit through your clothes, a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you two.

"mina," you started, but her name caught in your throat as her lips found the sensitive spot below your ear.

"shh," she said softly, her fingers deftly working to undo the first button of your shirt. "you’ve been working so hard setting up this office, and helping with the corporation. let me… give you an early pay."

her voice was smooth as silk, but the deliberate pace of her movements was anything but patient. her hands trailed down your chest, undoing buttons one by one as her lips followed the path of her fingers.

you tried to regain some control, gripping her waist and spinning her so that she was the one pressed against the desk. she gasped softly, her eyes wide for just a moment before a sly smile curved her lips.

"oh?" she teased, tilting her head. "decided to take charge?"

"you started this," you shot back, leaning in until your nose brushed hers. "but i’m finishing it."

the kiss that followed was anything but gentle—raw, desperate, like the tension between you had been building for far too long. your hands slid up her thighs, hiking up the hem of her skirt just enough to feel the smooth skin beneath.

mina’s breath hitched, and her nails dug into your shoulders. "you know, we really shouldn’t," she whispered, though the way her body arched against yours betrayed her words.

"you're backing out already?" you countered, your lips brushing against hers as you spoke.

she didn’t answer with words. instead, she pulled you down, claiming your lips again as she let out a soft, muffled moan.

your hands explored her freely now, mapping out every curve as if committing her to memory all over again. the desk creaked slightly as you leaned her back against it, her hair falling like ink over the polished wood.

"you’re going to ruin my skirt," she whispered breathlessly, though her tone was more amused than scolding.

"you’re the one who planned this," you replied, smirking as your lips trailed down her neck. "consider it part of the… renovations."

her laugh turned into a soft gasp as you found a particularly sensitive spot, and her hands gripped the edge of the desk for support.

"just… make sure no one walks in," she managed to say, her voice trembling slightly.

"you already said this place is soundproof," you teased, nipping at her collarbone. "besides, you’re the boss. who’s going to interrupt you?"

she didn’t respond, too caught up in the way your hands and lips moved over her. -----

the soft hum of the air conditioner filled the bedroom as you leaned back against a mountain of plush pillows, the silkiness of your matching pajama set brushing against your skin. the set, of course, was mina’s doing—custom-made with your initials embroidered on the pocket. mina, dressed in an identical set, had her arm lazily draped over your waist as the two of you lounged on the massive bed that could probably fit half a soccer team.

“so,” mina began, her voice soft and curious as she glanced at you, “what would you want to name our next child?”

you turned your head to look at her, arching a brow. “next child? are we really jumping into that conversation already?”

“we’re wearing matching pajamas. this is as domestic as it gets,” she teased, her lips curving into a playful smile. “besides, hiro’s growing up so fast. don’t you think it’d be nice to have another little one running around?”

you chuckled, running your fingers along the luxurious fabric of the comforter. “okay, let’s say we have another kid. what are you thinking? traditional? unique? or something ridiculously extravagant like… diamond or cashmere?”

mina gasped, feigning offense. “excuse me, i have taste, thank you very much. but now that you mention it… cashmere has a nice ring to it.”

you groaned, laughing. “mina, no.”

“fine, fine.” she tapped her chin thoughtfully, her tone turning serious for a moment. “if it’s a girl, maybe something soft and elegant. like hana or akari.”

you nodded, considering it. “not bad. hana myoui does have a nice flow to it. and if it’s a boy?”

mina tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “you get to name him, as long as it’s not something weird like ‘thunder.’”

“what’s wrong with thunder? it’s bold!” you argued, grinning.

mina rolled her eyes, gently pinching your cheek. “you’re impossible.”

“you love me for it.”

she smiled, her fingers brushing your hair back. “unfortunately, i do.”

the conversation drifted as mina reached over to a bedside table that probably cost more than your first car, pulling out a velvet box. inside was a delicate bracelet—gold with tiny diamonds, with her initials engraved on a tiny charm, elegant and understated but unmistakably expensive. she slipped it onto your wrist without saying a word.

you blinked at her. “what’s this for?”

“just because,” she said simply, her voice soft. “i like spoiling you.”

“mina,” you groaned, though a smile tugged at your lips.

“don’t fight me on this,” she warned playfully, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “you’ve been through so much. let me take care of you the way you deserve.”

after a moment of comfortable silence, she glanced at you with a curious glint in her eye. “you know… i’ve been thinking about something.”

“uh-oh,” you said, feigning caution. “should i be worried?”

“maybe.” she grinned, sitting up slightly. “i think you should get a tattoo.”

you blinked, caught off guard. “a tattoo? really? you don’t strike me as the tattoo type.”

“not for me,” she clarified, smirking. “for you. something small.. like my name."

you burst out laughing, shaking your head. “mina, are you serious?”

“dead serious,” she said, her expression unchanging. “imagine it—‘mina’ tattooed on your wrist, or maybe your collarbone. somewhere visible. a constant reminder that you’re off-limits.”

“you do realize this is next-level possessive, right?” you teased, still laughing.

“and?” she shot back, her tone playful but firm. “is it really that bad to want the world to know you’re mine?”

you sighed, resting your head against her shoulder. “fine, but only if you promise not to name our kid cashmere.”

she laughed, her melodic giggle filling the room. “deal.”

as the two of you settled into the comfort of the moment, talking and dreaming about your growing family, neither of you noticed the way time slipped by. it wasn’t until mina glanced at the clock and realized it was past midnight that she pulled the covers over both of you, her warmth wrapping around you like a blanket.

“goodnight,” she whispered, her voice laced with contentment.

you smiled, closing your eyes. “goodnight, mina. and for the record, hana’s a great name.”

“i know,” she murmured, holding you close. “it’ll be perfect.”

and with that, the night faded into peaceful silence, the promise of a brighter future lingering in the air.

-----

the night was alive with soft jazz notes and a low hum of chatter from the exclusive bar. the four of you—mina, momo, sana, and yourself—occupied a luxurious corner booth, the dim light casting an intimate glow over the table. momo’s animated storytelling had everyone laughing, her wild hand gestures making sana wheeze as she tried to sip her drink.

beside you, mina sat poised, her slender fingers tracing invisible patterns on the back of your hand resting on your thigh. the touch was possessive but soft—a silent statement of claim.

“so,” momo said, squinting at the cocktail menu, “what’s next? something dangerously strong, maybe?”

“how about something mina wouldn’t touch in a million years?” sana teased, raising her eyebrows at mina. “do they even serve red wine slushies here?”

mina shot her an unimpressed look but smirked. “i’m versatile. don’t test me.”

“says the woman who calls anything under 90 points undrinkable,” momo muttered, earning a giggle from sana.

just as the teasing continued, a figure approached the table. tall, elegant, and undeniably confident, the woman seemed to glide rather than walk. you recognized her instantly—a k-pop idol with a glittering reputation.

“hi there,” she purred, her attention locked on you. she ignored the rest of the table, mina included, as if the others were invisible. “i couldn’t help but notice you. mind if i join?”

mina stiffened beside you, her hand freezing on your leg. her eyes darted up to the idol, assessing, cold and sharp. momo’s mouth twitched, clearly trying to suppress laughter, while sana leaned back, ready to enjoy the show.

“can i help you?” you asked, tone neutral, though mina’s grip tightened slightly on your thigh.

“just curious,” the idol said, leaning closer than necessary. “someone as attractive as you—how are you still single?”

mina inhaled sharply, her nails pressing lightly into your leg. momo and sana exchanged a glance, both silently bracing for mina’s explosion.

without missing a beat, you lifted your hand, the faint glow of your wedding ring catching the light. “i’m not single. happily married.”

the idol’s smile faltered but didn’t entirely fade. “oh… well, marriages aren’t always—”

“excuse me,” you interrupted, voice steady as you gestured to a nearby staff member. “can you kindly escort her elsewhere? i believe she’s lost her way.”

the idol’s face reddened, and she stammered something inaudible before the staff member politely ushered her away.

when you turned back to the table, mina’s gaze was already fixed on you. her pride and amusement were unmistakable, though her lips pressed into a thin line as she tried to maintain her usual composure.

“that was… well played,” momo said, grinning. “you didn’t even flinch.”

sana nodded enthusiastically. “you’ve really got a knack for making people regret their decisions.”

mina’s hand moved from your thigh to the back of your neck, drawing you closer. her voice was low and intimate as she whispered, “thank you for shutting her down so quickly. i was seconds away from doing it myself.”

you smiled, tilting your head toward her. “did you think i wouldn’t?”

mina leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a brief but deliberate kiss. “you’re too perfect sometimes, you know that?” she murmured, her voice laced with a rare softness.

sana cleared her throat dramatically. “uh, public place, guys. public. place.”

mina ignored her, picking up a slice of the appetizer platter and holding it out to you. “here,” she said, her tone commanding but warm. “eat.”

you blinked. mina never fed anyone, let alone in public. but she waited, her expression unreadable, until you leaned forward and took a bite.

“oh my god,” momo muttered, leaning toward sana. “is this even real? she’s… spoiling them.”

“she’s in deep,” sana whispered back, grinning.

“don’t make me regret inviting you two,” mina said flatly, though the corner of her lips curved upward.

but as you sit there, watchin them peacefully, you realize you wouldn’t trade this chaos for anything. -----

the air was crisp and cool, carrying the faint scent of pine trees and fresh earth. the myoui town had hardly changed, its quiet charm untouched by the passing years. it was just as peaceful as you remembered it during your honeymoon with mina, but now, it felt even more alive with hiro’s laughter echoing through the streets.

“this place always feels like stepping into another world,” you mused, glancing over at mina, who was holding hiro’s hand as they admired the rows of blooming hydrangeas.

mina smiled, her face glowing in the golden afternoon light. “it hasn’t changed much. it’s why i love coming back here.”

hiro suddenly tugged on mina’s hand, pointing at a small pond nearby. “look, mama! koi fish! can i feed them?”

mina nodded, her voice soft and indulgent. “of course, but stay close.”

you trailed behind them, carrying a bag filled with snacks and small trinkets you’d picked up for hiro earlier in the day. watching them interact always filled you with a quiet warmth. hiro, who once stumbled over his tiny feet, was now running confidently, his energy boundless as he scattered fish food into the pond.

after a while, you joined mina on a bench overlooking the water, her hand slipping into yours without a word. you noticed how her grip tightened slightly, her eyes lingering on hiro.

“you’ve been quiet,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over her knuckles. “what’s on your mind?”

she tilted her head, leaning it gently on your shoulder. “just… thinking how far we’ve come. i’m glad we made it here, together.”

your lips curved into a smile. “me too.”

later, as the sky began to darken into shades of amber and lilac, the three of you returned to the small house that mina’s family maintained in town. you helped mina with preparing dinner, chopping vegetables while she stirred the pot, the two of you working in easy harmony.

hiro was playing in the living room, his laughter filling the space as he built a block tower.

“he’s growing up too fast,” mina murmured, her voice tinged with bittersweet affection.

you glanced at her, wiping your hands on a towel before wrapping your arms around her waist from behind. “he’s turning out pretty great, though. just like his mom.”

mina chuckled, leaning back into your embrace. “you’re biased.”

“and proud of it.”

the evening passed in quiet contentment, the kind of peace you’d once thought was unattainable.

as the night deepened, you and mina sat on the porch, watching hiro chase fireflies in the yard. suddenly, mina called out, her voice soft yet carrying a gentle urgency.

“come here, sweetheart!”

you turned to see a small figure toddling out of the house, her tiny legs unsteady but determined. your daughter—her cheeks round, her hair tied into a tiny bun that mina had fussed over earlier—was walking toward her mother.

hiro noticed immediately and ran to her side, carefully holding her hand to steady her. “careful, hana,” he said, his tone protective yet gentle.

“you’re doing so good, hana!” hiro cheered, his grin wide.

mina’s hand found yours, her grip firm yet tender. “he’s such a good brother,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

“he had good examples to follow,” you murmured, your eyes meeting hers.

a comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the soft giggles of your children.

then, as if unable to resist, mina turned to you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “so… what do you think about number three?”

you groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “mina, we just had hana—”

“exactly,” she interrupted, her tone light. “and look how perfect she is. why not one more?”

you peeked at her through your fingers, your lips twitching despite yourself. “you’re wild.”

she grinned, leaning in to kiss your neck the exact same spot where your tattoo resided, a small tattoo of her name. “and you love me for it.”

watching hiro guide hana, the two of you couldn’t help but exchange a glance—a silent agreement that, for all the chaos and exhaustion, this was the life you never knew you’d wanted.

fireflies dot the air. hana toddled around near mina’s feet while hiro chased the glowing insects with wild abandon.

you smiled, your heart swelling with pride and love. “yeah. we did good, didn’t we?”

mina rested her head against your shoulder, her hand finding yours once again. “we did.”

and as you watched your children together, you realized there was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

-----

end of the special chapter, and the series.

a/n — have this :P i'm sorry for causing sadness here's something to mend that. here's the result from the vote, honestly a big surprise as i didn't think you guys would choose the right choice.

#mina imagines #kpop girls #mina x reader #myoui mina #myoui mina x reader #twice mina #twice sana #happy ending #momo #hirai momo #series #a vow undone #twice #twice fanfiction #mina #mina myoui #kino.#zylokv

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