#As evening hurries by Hong Kong

[fotos-art]

As evening hurries by Hong Kong

1955

Fan Ho

1931 - 2016

Chinese/Hong Kongese

[thedensworld]

Forever His | C.Sc

Pairing: Seungcheol x reader

Genre: fluff, angst, slightly smut

Words Count: 3,5K

Summary: You found out that Seungcheol was marrying you for your property and wealth while you're pregnant with his child. What would you do? Let him go or play a fool?

Seungcheol growled in anger upon hearing several hurried knocks on his bedroom door well past midnight. Inside, he held you close, releasing all the pent-up affection from his business trip. Your face blushed from the intimate activity, your lips plumped, and Seungcheol was the reason behind it all. Initially oblivious to the noise, you regained your senses when he suddenly stopped and questioned him, "Why?"

Seungcheol sighed, his lips peppering a gentle kiss on your forehead. He whispered, "I'm sorry," before continuing, "get dressed. Don't want anyone to see you like this," accompanied by another peck on your shoulder. You observed him donning a robe before rising to walk to your closet to get dressed. It had been a week since you last saw him during his business trip to Hong Kong, and he immediately reveled in the moment upon his return.

You understood the frustration etched on his face as he headed to the door, reprimanding his assistant whom he had just seen a few hours ago—more than he had seen you all week. Despite the interruption, you decided not to retake your shower, opting for minimal clothing just in case the interrupted moment could be resumed. Wrapped in your robe, you lay on the bed with a tablet in hand, patiently awaiting your husband's return while attempting to mentally prepare for the upcoming workday.

It had been a year since you met Seungcheol, and you had been married for six months. People remarked that you two were still in the honeymoon phase, a sentiment you couldn't deny. The longest time apart was a mere week, and when you were both home, the opportunity for intimacy was ever-present—bed, kitchen, home office, or even the car. Seungcheol cared little about the location as long as he could be close to you, witnessing your pleasure, and hearing you moan his name, a source of immense satisfaction and ego boost for him.

After nearly half an hour since your shared intimacy was interrupted, Seungcheol entered the bedroom, and you welcomed him with a smile, setting aside your device as he approached. However, your joy was short-lived as he dropped a bombshell— an urgent matter required his immediate attention, shattering the serene moment.

His apology hung in the air, and you gazed into his eyes, almost whispering, "Can't it wait until tomorrow?" His gaze met yours, and he replied, "I'm sorry, but everyone needs me." The weight of his words settled, and you nodded, offering him a kiss. He whispered a goodnight and covered you with a blanket.

As he prepared to leave, he assured you, "I'm going. If you need anything, Eunji is downstairs, okay?" The deep kiss on your forehead lingered, leaving you with a mix of understanding and a touch of loneliness as he walked away, duty calling him away from the warmth of your shared moments.

As you sat in your office, a sense of solitude crept in as hours passed without any news from Seungcheol. Reflecting on your father's words, "A big power would come with a big responsibility, Y/n," you realized the weight of the responsibilities that came with leading two prominent companies. You, as the director of Seri Corps, and Seungcheol, the owner of a property investment company dealing with hotels, apartments, residences, and department stores, found little time to break away from the demanding roles.

The constant influx of work surrounded your thoughts, echoing your father's wisdom. You yearned for a moment to confront Seungcheol's assistant, Kim Mingyu, about easing the workload on your husband. Simultaneously, you knew Seungcheol harbored similar thoughts about Myungho, your secretary.

Seungcheol's suggestion of taking a break from work and starting a family lingered in your mind. "How about a little break from work? It might end up with a cute baby like you..." he had expressed his desire to build a family since the early days of your marriage.

Initially hesitant, thoughts swirled in your mind. Could you be ready to be a mother? Your upbringing without a mother made you wary, but Seungcheol had gradually changed your perspective. His love, support, and dreams of a family with you had softened your reservations. You found yourself yearning for the joy of building a family with Seungcheol, confident that he would be an exceptional father, creating a world of happiness for your future children.

After a lengthy discussion with Seungcheol about starting a family, you took the decision to visit your ob-gyn and began the journey towards pregnancy. For the past three months, you had gradually reduced your workload, entrusting responsibilities to your younger brother, Lee Chan, while actively trying to conceive with your husband. Unbeknownst to Seungcheol, you had already been pregnant for four weeks, and the only person privy to this news was Myungho, your ever-attentive secretary.

Myungho had been a pillar of support, ensuring your well-being by sending nutritious meals and a glass of pregnancy milk to your desk every morning. He also exhibited consideration for your workload, making efforts to send you home before 6. This morning, upon entering the office, you found Myungho had prepared your favorite breakfast from a beloved restaurant, lifting your spirits from the previous night's glum mood.

Despite your gratitude, you declined Myungho's offer to check an anonymous file that had been delivered to you. As you enjoyed your meal, you informed him that you'd arrange for your own transportation home and would call upon Eunji, the bodyguard Seungcheol had assigned to you.

"Just in case," Seungcheol explained when he was questioned about the need for a bodyguard, triggering memories of a near altercation when you initially resisted the idea. You asserted your ability to protect yourself, having learned jiu-jitsu and basic shooting. However, that night, Seungcheol revealed a hidden compartment beside your bed containing a gun. Holding your wrists firmly, he calmly stated, "I'm not doing this because you're a woman, but because you're my woman," emphasizing his commitment to your safety.

*

"Are we heading home, mam?" Eunji inquired, her gaze alternating between the road and the rearview mirror, noting the exhaustion etched on your face. Concerned, she questioned you about it.

"Just tired, thanks for asking. Yes, we're going home, please," you replied with a smile, appreciating Eunji's thoughtful gesture. Myungho, attentive to the shifting atmosphere, was about to join the conversation, sensing your unease.

"I'm okay, Secretary Seo. You should go home," you reassured him before closing the car door, leaving Myungho behind as the car set off for your house.

Looking out the window, your reflection mirrored the complex emotions brewing within you. As you questioned Eunji about your husband's whereabouts, her lips tightened, emphasizing her reluctance to share such information.

You hadn't received any news from Seungcheol today, a departure from the usual routine. While you recognized the demands of his busy schedule, today was different; a yearning for his comforting presence intensified, especially with the added vulnerability brought on by the pregnancy.

The familiar presence of threats was not new to you, but today brought a different kind of menace. A letter arrived this morning, accompanied by pictures and a USB. The images depicted Seungcheol in the company of an unidentified person, taken just hours after he left you the previous night. The revelation injected a new level of tension into an already uncertain day.

As you connected the USB, the file unfolded a chilling conversation between Seungcheol and his uncle, Choi Junggan. The revelation shook you to the core as they discussed plans to take control of Seri Department Store, a place with deep roots in your family history.

"We need her to hand you the Seri Department Store this year," Choi Junggan's voice declared, triggering disbelief and confusion within you. Seungcheol's voice, usually a source of comfort, uttered words that contradicted everything he had ever said to you.

Frozen in your car seat, you listened as Seungcheol acknowledged his role in the plan, vowing to gain your trust to further their hidden agenda. The shock reverberated through you, and doubts about the authenticity of your relationship took hold.

Arriving home, you rushed to your shared office, desperate to find evidence that would contradict the betrayal you had just uncovered. Each desk you searched only intensified the sinking feeling in your gut. Stumbling upon a hidden map and recalling the secret desk with a concealed gun, fear gripped you.

Questions raced through your mind—was Seungcheol planning something sinister? Was he preparing to harm you? The shivers intensified as you discovered a Memorandum of Understanding signed by your father and Seungcheol's father, outlining a deal that involved transferring the Seri Department Store to Seri Corps to settle debts. A chilling note from Seungcheol himself accompanied the document, vowing retribution for the suffering caused by Seri Corps.

The foundation of your trust crumbled as you grappled with the harsh reality that Seungcheol might have used you to fulfill a hidden agenda, driven by a desire for revenge against your family. The love and assurances you believed in were now clouded by a chilling revelation, leaving you in a state of shock and betrayal.

Click

In the sudden darkness, every creak of the floor beneath your cautious steps echoed through the house, a symphony of dread playing in the silence. The weight of the unknown assailant's presence hung heavily, suffocating the very air you breathed. Your trembling fingers fumbled for your phone, desperation rising as you attempted to call Eunji for help, but the device felt foreign and cumbersome in your anxious grip.

Before the call could connect, a vice-like grip clamped around you from behind, the cold edge of a knife pressing menacingly against your neck. Panic set in, and your mind raced through the horrifying possibilities of what this intruder might do. The chilling voice that whispered into your ear shattered any semblance of security, laying bare a sinister knowledge about your husband's actions.

"Have you found out about who your husband truly is?"

As you closed your eyes, you clung to a prayer for rescue, desperately hoping that someone, anyone, would come to your aid in this supposedly secure haven. The slight pain from the knife's pressure served as a cruel reminder of the peril you found yourself in, each second dragging like an eternity.

Summoning the courage to question the intruder, you choked out, "Who sent you?" The tightening grip around your neck conveyed a chilling refusal to answer, and the revelation hinted at a darker truth about Seungcheol, unraveling the very fabric of the reality you once believed in.

"The person who sent me wants the department store you have."

In a surreal twist, the lights flickered back on, momentarily blinding both you and your assailant. Seizing the opportunity, you instinctively flipped away from the unknown threat, your heart pounding in your ears as you sprinted towards the bedroom. The slam of the door, the metallic click of the lock, and the thudding of your own heartbeat created a cacophony of tension in the enclosed space.

As you sought the hidden gun, the room felt like a battleground, the seconds ticking away in sync with your frantic breaths. Dialing Myungho, your voice trembled with urgency, "Send police to my house, someone's trespassing and tried to hurt me!" The air became charged with a sense of impending danger as you awaited assistance, realizing that the sanctuary of your home had been shattered, leaving you vulnerable and exposed to a threat that had breached even the most intimate corners of your life.

*

Seungcheol's heart raced as he sped towards home, two police cars in tow. The tension in the air was palpable, and he exchanged a concerned glance with Kim Mingyu, who was navigating through the traffic while contacting the dispatcher for an alternative route. However, the gravity of the situation became evident when Mingyu's expression shifted, and their eyes met in the rearview mirror.

"They are heading to your house, sir," Mingyu relayed the alarming news.

Seungcheol's furrowed eyebrows betrayed his growing anxiety. "What do you mean?"

Mingyu swiftly removed his earpiece and pressed harder on the gas pedal. "Someone's trespassing your house and trying to hurt Mrs. Choi."

Upon arrival, Seungcheol rushed into the house, his senses heightened by the impending threat. The scene unfolded before him – you seated on the kitchen counter, Myungho tending to a wound on your neck, and police officers meticulously investigating the incident. The sight cut through Seungcheol like a knife, and his eyes locked onto yours as he approached.

Without a word, he enveloped you in his arms, a mixture of relief and concern etched across his face. The chaos in the house seemed to fade into the background as Seungcheol held you close, silently vowing to protect you from any harm that dared to breach the sanctuary you both called home.

Seungcheol's concern was evident as he gently inspected the wound on your neck, his expression softening in a mix of worry and tenderness. Faced with the undeniable proof of your vulnerability, he couldn't help but ask, "What did he do to you?"

A hesitant smile played on your lips as you replied, "So you know him..."

Myungho, ever considerate, discreetly stepped away, allowing the two of you a moment of privacy. Seungcheol's eyes remained fixed on yours, a silent acknowledgment of the tumultuous situation that had unfolded.

Pulling you into his protective embrace once again, Seungcheol's concern escalated into frustration. He directed his anger toward Mingyu, demanding to know why there wasn't proper security in place when the intrusion occurred. Mingyu bowed apologetically, promising to investigate the lapse.

As the commotion settled, Seungcheol engaged with the police officers, his anger simmering as he learned the details of the trespasser's actions. His insistence on swift justice was clear, emphasizing that whoever had harmed you should be held accountable.

Once the room cleared and additional security measures were put in place, Seungcheol finally had the chance to sit with you. As you handed him the file of the Department Store Ownership Transfer, a heavy silence filled the room. The shared understanding between you two spoke volumes, acknowledging the depth of the betrayal that had unfolded.

In that moment, the room held the weight of unspoken emotions, and Seungcheol's gaze lingered on you.

The room hung heavy with the weight of revelation as you confronted Seungcheol. The truth, once hidden in the shadows, now stood exposed, unraveling the carefully woven fabric of your marriage.

"He wants Seri Department Store," you mumbled, your arms crossed, standing defiantly before Seungcheol. Frustration radiated from you as you ran your hand through your hair, grappling with the gravity of the situation that had unfolded.

"My life," you paused, "was worth of that store!"

Seungcheol shook his head, attempting to deny the painful reality. "Baby, no..."

"Don't call me that! You had the same intention!" The words burst out from you, a sharp accusation that hung in the air. It was a yell, a rupture in the calm facade of your marriage.

"You've been lying to me..." your voice faded, replaced by hot tears streaming down your cheeks. The vulnerability you revealed was a stark contrast to the stoic persona you had been trained to adopt.

Seungcheol's throat went dry, words catching in the tangled web of emotions. He took a deep breath, his heart breaking as he witnessed you, the strong and composed figure, breaking down in front of him. Wiping your own tears away, you showed a side that was rarely seen by anyone.

In that moment, Seungcheol loathed himself for causing the tears and hated that he couldn't be the one to comfort you. "I never lied to you," he finally uttered, but the truth seemed feeble against the magnitude of the situation.

You threw a letter at him, a tangible representation of the deceit that had taken root. "Then what is it? You're trying to fool me by marrying me. You're into my property, Seungcheol."

Seungcheol's voice matched your intensity, "Yes, I was! But I've been delaying..." His tone softened, desperation lacing his words. "Because I fell for you, for real. And I've been trying to stop my uncle for the revenge."

The room echoed with Seungcheol's explanation, his vulnerability laid bare. This was a side of him you had never seen before, and in this moment, as he bared his soul, the fragile bridge between betrayal and redemption trembled in the air.

In that vulnerable moment, Seungcheol shed the facade of superiority and power that he often wore. Tonight, he laid bare his emotions, doing everything in his power to make you believe in the sincerity of his love for you.

"I'm aiming for a hotel abroad and offered him the condition that we won't involve anyone from Lee Family, from your family, including you. He agreed. But little did I know he had sent someone to hurt you." Seungcheol approached you, gently rubbing your arms before his hand traced the tender area on your neck.

"They hurt you," he declared with fiery intensity in his eyes. Seungcheol sighed, his chest filled with anger, and he closed his eyes, seeking solace in looking at your face. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything."

Your hand caressed his cheek, and your lips met in a kiss that started calm and slowly transformed into something more passionate and charged with desire. As the kiss broke, leaving both of you gasping for air, his eyes opened, fixated on you.

"Promise me, this won't happen again," you whispered, and he immediately nodded. His lips sought yours again, but you playfully dodged, pulling your head away from him.

He looked at you with longing, whispering, "Baby..."

You licked your lips, making a demand, "Say that you love me."

"I love you," he replied without hesitation.

"Say that I'm more than that store." Your hands roamed to his stomach, then gradually went down to his hardness. Seungcheol groaned under your touch, "You're more than that, baby. You're worth the world," he whispered into your ear. His hands explored the warmth of your skin under your blouse, his member pressing against you.

"Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling the hem of your blouse. You nodded, and soon both of you stood there, stripped of the barriers that concealed your vulnerability.

He kissed your lips again, guiding your hands to his shoulders. "I love you, I love you so much." The words hung in the air, reaffirming the bond that transcended the complexities of the world outside.

*

Myungho entered your room, holding the file that contained detailed information about Choi Junggan, your husband's influential uncle who seemed to have a significant impact on Seungcheol's life since the passing of his parents.

"How about the guy who attacked me last night?" you inquired, your focus shifting from the file to Myungho. As you scanned Junggan's list of properties and business history, you nodded in acknowledgment, recognizing the extent of Junggan's influence on Seungcheol's business trajectory.

"Cops captured him. He hasn't said anything about the person who hired him. But it's definitely Choi Junggan. He's the only one who's into your property," Myungho revealed, shedding light on the tangled web of motives and alliances.

Seungcheol's revelation from the previous night suddenly made a lot more sense. While delving into the file Myungho had handed you, a realization struck you—the depth of Junggan's control over Seungcheol's life since the tragic loss of his parents when he was just a high schooler.

Understanding that Seungcheol, as the sole heir to his parents, had been manipulated by Junggan to make your family pay for something you were yet to uncover, you recognized that the only way to unveil the truth was by confronting the man himself. The file in your hands became a key to unraveling the intricate layers of a past that had been concealed for far too long.

"Could you do me a favor, Secretary Seo?" you inquired, and Myungho nodded politely, ready to assist. "What is it, Mrs. Choi?" he asked.

"Are you personally close to Kim Mingyu?" you questioned, prompting a quizzical expression from Myungho. He responded, "I guess, we regularly meet at the pub blocks away from your house."

A smile played on your lips as you outlined your request, "I need you to find out about the properties my husband has been eyeing recently, possibly around Hong Kong and Singapore. I need all the details."

Myungho, respecting your privacy, sought clarification, "May I know what this is for, ma'am?"

"I want to buy them first, before my husband could," you calmly stated, leaning back in your seat. Myungho noted the determination in your eyes and quickly understood that Choi Seungcheol had underestimated the strength he was up against.

After few hours, a familiar figure approached your office. Seungcheol, clearly agitated, entered the room after signaling Mingyu and Myungho to stay outside. Your eyes met, and you became aware that your husband, Choi Seungcheol, had an undeniable issue with anger. He took control of the switchable glass, making the room opaque, a move that intensified his presence. He looks so hot like this.

"I thought I made it clear this morning that you shouldn't be at work after what happened last night?" Seungcheol voiced his concern, frustration evident in his demeanor.

You nonchalantly replied, "I was safer here than in your house, Seungcheol," rising from your seat and approaching him.

Seungcheol sighed, massaging his temples, "Baby, please don't do anything."

Your hands gestured in confusion, "I don't do anything," you replied with a shrug.

Concerned about the dangers posed by his uncle, Seungcheol attempted to explain, "My uncle, he could be pretty dangerous."

Understanding his apprehension, you nodded, "He is. Great to hear that you and I are seeing him from the same boat."

Seungcheol stepped forward, gently grabbing your hand and placing it on his cheek. Closing his eyes, he savored the softness of your touch before pecking your hand. As he opened his eyes, a soft smile adorned his face.

"Trust me, please," he earnestly begged, "Trust me, baby. I'll take care of him."

You bit your lip, confessing, "I want to help you."

Seungcheol shook his head, "I don't want you to get hurt. You were almost... killed last night. I won't ever let that happen again."

You nodded, whispering, "I know," and offering him a reassuring smile.

Attempting to steer the conversation back to a professional tone, you asked, "What are you doing here, by the way?"

Seungcheol, catching the shift, followed suit, "I have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Lee. Surprised to learn that it wasn't you leading the meeting with investors."

Concerned for your well-being, he inquired, "Are you okay?"

You assured him with a nod and a quick response, "I'm totally fine. I have a business trip to attend; I'll be home pretty late tonight."

Seungcheol nodded in understanding, seeking more details, "Where to?"

With a calm smile, you disclosed, "Singapore."

*

"Okay, you got my attention now..." Junggan's voice resonated from the phone speaker as Myungho handed you his phone, subtly mouthing, "Choi Junggan."

You chuckled upon hearing his first words, "Great to know that. You started it first by sending a poor man into my house," you replied, gazing out the window at the nighttime view of Incheon as the plane descended.

Junggan's laughter echoed through the call, "What a feisty girl! Yeah, Seungcheol has captured him, hasn't he? He was honest when he said he loves you."

A smile touched your lips, "Why? Is it hurting you? That your 'one and only doll' finally betrayed you? He's not a doll, Choi Junggan. He's your nephew."

Junggan scoffed, getting straight to the point, "What do you want?"

"Stop controlling my husband, and I'll give you the hotel," you proposed, offering a straightforward agreement.

You could hear the old man laughing, "You really bought a hotel just for my nephew?"

You sighed, "He's not just your nephew; he's my husband."

A sly smile crept into Junggan's voice, "But his worth is more than a hotel, isn't he?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his audacity. Even in this situation, with you acquiring properties he had his eyes on in Singapore, Junggan remained arrogantly composed. The negotiation had just begun, and it seemed like dealing with him would be a game of wit and strategy.

"A hotel and 3% of your department store shares?" Junggan negotiated in a sly tone.

"Here's the thing, Mr. Choi," you paused, "I actually want to give you the department store. I thought about that, honestly." You could sense his excitement at the prospect. "However, I don't think my late mother-in-law would be happy if I give her precious building to someone who has been very deceitful and manipulative toward her son, Mr. Choi," you continued, and your words resulted in a moment of silence.

A confident smile played on your lips; you knew you had him.

There was a pregnant pause before he asked, "How do you know?" in a tone that betrayed his vulnerable point—Seungcheol's mother, a person Junggan held very dearly in his heart.

"I have my sources," you said, "just like you have Eunji as your source."

Before the phone call could reach its conclusion, Myungho subtly indicated that it was time to go, as Seungcheol and your grandfather were eagerly awaiting you for a late dinner.

"You need to decide, Mr. Choi. Time is ticking," you said before decisively ending the call. The negotiation had just begun, and you felt a sense of satisfaction at holding the upper hand.

The starry night welcomed your landing at the international airport, and you were ready to disembark when Myungho suddenly announced that he had left an important file on his seat. He urged you to go ahead since your car was already waiting outside. Unusual for Myungho, who typically had other business to attend to, you signaled your new driver to head home immediately.

As you traversed the city streets, a notification alerted you to a text from Myungho. With a sigh, you muttered, "He won't ever let me rest," before opening the message. A shiver ran down your spine as Myungho requested that you inform Seokmin, one of Seungcheol's drivers, that Myungho would be waiting for him in his office since he couldn't reach him personally.

You put your phone down, inhaling a heavy sigh silently. Seokmin was assigned to drive you home, but whoever was behind the wheel of this car was certainly not Seokmin. You refrained from looking at him, sensing that he had been eyeing you through the rearview mirror. In response, you swiftly sent Myungho your location with a concise message:

"Send me help."

*

Seungcheol's heart raced as Mingyu delivered the alarming news of your kidnapping on the way home from the airport. His mind immediately pointed fingers at his own uncle, considering the recent threatening call and the ominous words echoing in his ears: "Betray me again, I'll let you know the consequence."

He had been cautious, attempting to shield you from the dangerous business involving Choi Junggan. However, your determination to help him and seek revenge had taken an unexpected turn. When Mingyu, panic-stricken, revealed that you had purchased the property intended for Seungcheol's uncle, the pieces fell into place. You aimed to confront Junggan directly.

Seungcheol had just spoken with his uncle an hour ago, and now the shocking news of your kidnapping left him reeling. It appeared Junggan had anticipated Seungcheol's plan, orchestrating a betrayal that ran deeper than Seungcheol initially thought. The threat wasn't just about revenge; it was a move calculated to protect his money laundering activities.

During Seungcheol's time as Junggan's assistant, he had diligently documented evidence of his uncle's illicit activities. Those notes and additional proof could be the leverage needed to finally put Junggan behind bars. As a mix of fear and determination surged through Seungcheol, he knew he had to act swiftly to save you and dismantle the dangerous web his uncle had woven.

As Seungcheol continued to make urgent calls to his lawyer, Mingyu updated him on the situation. The news of Seokmin found unconscious at the airport heightened the tension. Mingyu, sitting in the driver's seat, couldn't hide his frustration as he chuckled angrily. Your location, frozen for the past 10 minutes, signaled that the kidnappers might have discarded your phone.

"Myungho has informed the police to track your wife's location. They must have thrown her phone," Mingyu reported, the concern for your safety evident in his voice.

Seungcheol sighed, realizing the urgency of the situation. In a moment of clarity, he remembered placing a GPS on your wedding ring, a precaution due to your tendency not to update him about your whereabouts. Swiftly, he shared your latest location with Mingyu, who promptly relayed the information to Myungho and the authorities. The race against time had begun, and Seungcheol couldn't shake off the fear that gripped his heart, praying that they would reach you in time.

"Sir.."

Seungcheol's heartbeat quickened as Mingyu's revelation about Myungho having something important to share reached his ears. The car's atmosphere shifted into an air of tension, each passing second increasing Seungcheol's anxiety. Mingyu, with a look of concern on his face, executed the announcement with a gravity that made Seungcheol's gut twist.

As the speaker crackled to life, Myungho's voice trembled slightly, an unusual undertone of nervousness underscoring his usually composed demeanor. Seungcheol's instincts sharpened, sensing that whatever news was about to be delivered carried weight.

"Sir, I'm sorry for not telling you this before," Myungho began, the apologetic tone heightening the tension in the car. A heavy sigh punctuated the pause before he revealed the bombshell, "But your wife..."

The moment hung in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications. Seungcheol's mind raced, contemplating what revelation could follow, unaware that the news about to unfold would reshape the stakes of the impending rescue mission.

"She's pregnant."

Seungcheol's heart skipped a beat as the revelation about your pregnancy echoed through the speaker in the car. The gravity of the situation suddenly multiplied, intertwining the fear for your safety with the concern for the life growing inside you. The realization struck him like a lightning bolt, and for a moment, he felt a mix of emotions—fear, panic, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

Mingyu, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, glanced at Seungcheol with worry etched on his face. Seungcheol took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts.

"Myungho, I... Thank you for letting me know," Seungcheol finally responded, his voice carrying a mixture of shock and concern. The news added an extra layer of urgency to the already critical situation. The thought of you, pregnant and in danger, fueled his determination to bring you back safely.

"Let's focus on getting her safely," Seungcheol instructed, his tone more resolute. The drive to rescue you became not only a mission to save his wife but also an imperative to protect the life growing within you.

Opposite to the confidence in his words, Seungcheol's hands tightened on his phone. A sharp pang of guilt surging through him like a current. The revelation of your pregnancy, a joyous occasion under different circumstances, now bore the weight of his past actions. Learning that you hadn't shared this significant news with him triggered an ache in his chest, a feeling of betrayal intertwined with remorse.

As he absorbed the reality of your pregnancy, Seungcheol couldn't escape the haunting guilt that you might perceive his lack of knowledge as a testament to your distrust. He couldn't shake the notion that your choice to keep this life-altering secret from him was a consequence of the distrust seeded by his initial motives for marrying you. The revelation of his original intentions – driven by revenge against your family – added a layer of complexity to his guilt, a realization that his past deeds were casting a long shadow over your relationship.

The darkness of the night seemed to mirror the turmoil within Seungcheol's mind. He wanted to protect you, cherish you, and share in the joy of impending parenthood, but the ghosts of his actions stood as barriers between them. The weight of guilt pressed on him, magnified by the realization that your silence might be a form of self-preservation.

In the confined space of the car, the echo of Myungho's revelation resonated with Seungcheol's internal struggle. Your trust, or lack thereof, became a tangible force, a barrier he needed to dismantle. As he raced against time to rescue you, Seungcheol grappled with the urgency to bridge the emotional distance that had unwittingly grown between you. He yearned not just to save you physically but to rebuild the trust that now seemed more fragile than ever.

The phone rang, and Seungcheol's heart skipped a beat as he saw the caller ID – his uncle. Answering with a trembling hand, he braced himself for the chilling exchange that awaited him.

His uncle's voice, dripping with malevolence, cut through the silence of the car. "Seungcheol, my boy, I see you're on your way to retrieve your dear wife."

Seungcheol's grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Let her go, uncle. This ends tonight."

A sinister chuckle resonated through the line. "Oh, but my dear nephew, it's just the beginning. You see, you've been quite the disappointment, trying to dismantle my plans."

The image of you, bound and unconscious, flashed on Seungcheol's phone screen, and his breath caught in his throat. His uncle's voice continued, each word a venomous threat. "I've sent you a little preview of what's to come. A taste of the pain she'll endure unless you comply with my demands."

Seungcheol's jaw clenched, a mixture of fear and rage fueling his determination. "Enough of this, Junggan. I won't let you harm her any further. Tell me what you want."

His uncle reveled in the power he held. "Simple, my boy. You come alone, or she pays the price. I've arranged a charming little place for our reunion. You have twenty minutes, Seungcheol."

The connection severed, leaving Seungcheol with a chilling ultimatum. The car accelerated, racing against time, each passing second amplifying the desperation in his heart. The road blurred beneath the car's tires, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions raging within him.

In the dimly lit room where you were held captive, your unconscious form became a pawn in this deadly game. The timer ticked down, a countdown to a confrontation that would determine not only your fate but the unraveling of a family's twisted legacy.

Seungcheol arrived at the designated location, the eerie silence of the abandoned building sending a shiver down his spine. He motioned for everyone to stay back, keeping a solemn promise to Junggan, who had threatened unspeakable harm if he defied the rules. Mingyu stood by his side, holding back your team and Myungho as Seungcheol ventured into the decaying structure by himself.

The building exhaled a musty breath, its walls stained with the remnants of a dark past. Shadows danced ominously in the corners, and the creaking floorboards echoed through the desolate halls. The air hung heavy with tension, a palpable reminder of the impending confrontation.

As hedelved deeper into the labyrinthine structure, the distant sound of a knife being sharpened reached Seungcheol's ears. Each scrape against the blade reverberated through the corridors, amplifying the sinister ambiance of the place. The echoes seemed to mock him, a haunting reminder of the imminent danger that lurked in the shadows.

Your captor's sadistic preparation was evident, the chilling sounds intertwining with the apprehensive silence, painting a grim picture of the confrontation ahead. Seungcheol tightened his grip on the makeshift weapon he had grabbed on his way in, steeling himself for the horrors that awaited him within the dimly lit recesses of the old building.

In the eerie ambiance of the dilapidated building, Seungcheol cautiously followed the echoes of his uncle's cold welcome, each step a tense reminder of the impending confrontation. The air was heavy with anticipation as he approached the dimly lit room, the shadows casting an ominous backdrop to the unfolding drama.

As Seungcheol entered, the scene before him unveiled a tableau of despair. There you were, seated vulnerably on a worn-out chair, your eyes reflecting a mix of fear and relief at the sight of him. A masked figure, an ominous silhouette in the dim light, stood menacingly beside you, wielding a gleaming knife at your neck—a silent threat that echoed through the room.

Junggan, concealed in shadows, initiated the negotiation, his demands echoing with a sinister undertone. The metallic edge of the blade against your skin served as a cruel incentive for Seungcheol to heed his uncle's commands. A choice lingered in the air—sacrifice his empire or risk harm befalling you.

Seungcheol, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, dared to question his uncle's malevolence. "Why, Uncle? What satisfaction do you derive from causing such pain? Is revenge worth the torment you're inflicting?"

In response, Junggan unraveled a tapestry of resentment and bitterness. He confessed that his hatred stemmed from the belief that Seungcheol wasn't his son but the offspring of the brother who had allegedly stripped him of everything.

Seungcheol, eyes ablaze with a mixture of anger and desperation, couldn't fathom the depth of his uncle's resentment. "Is this the only way you see to settle your grievances, Uncle? To use me, to hurt her? What did she ever do to you?"

Junggan, his voice dripping with venom, responded with a sinister chuckle. "You've always been the pawn, Seungcheol. A pawn in my game for justice. Your existence is a constant reminder of what was taken from me."

As the masked figure tightened their grip on the knife, you winced, and Seungcheol's resolve solidified. "If it's revenge you seek, hurt me, not her. She has nothing to do with your vendetta."

A wicked smile played on Junggan's lips. "But that's where you're wrong, Seungcheol. She's entwined in this web of revenge just by being a part of your life. The Lee family took everything from me, and now, through you, I'll take everything from them."

Seungcheol's fists clenched, grappling with the reality of his uncle's malevolence. "There has to be another way, Uncle. We can find a resolution without resorting to this brutality. I'm willing to face consequences, but spare her from this."

Junggan, unmoved by Seungcheol's plea, continued to press his demands. "Relinquish your shares and your position, or her suffering will be just the beginning. Your family will pay for the pain they've inflicted on mine."

In the tense exchange, Seungcheol's mind raced, searching for a solution that would save you from the impending danger. The cold metallic resonance of a sharpening knife underscored the urgency of his decision, knowing that every passing moment brought you closer to the brink of harm.

The reminiscence of past grievances escaped from Junggan's mouth—the CEO status taken by Seungcheol's father, the love of his life, Seungcheol's mother, passed away after an accident made by Lee Family after a debt they couldn't afford. Betrayed by the nephew he saw as a means to reclaim what he believed was rightfully his, Junggan revealed that Seungcheol's actions had thwarted his grand plan for vengeance, fueling a burning desire to settle the score against a family he deemed responsible for his life's misfortunes. Desperate to thwart the unfolding tragedy that hung heavily in the air, his voice quivered with a potent mix of fear, anger, and an enduring undercurrent of love that defied the years of familial discord.

Seungcheol's plea cut through the tense silence, the gravity of the situation reflected in the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Uncle, you can't let this happen. There has to be another way. I won't let you harm her," Seungcheol implored, his eyes betraying a deep-seated concern for you, the woman he loved.

Junggan, shrouded in malevolence, reveled in the chaos he had orchestrated. His response dripped with vindictiveness.

"Seungcheol, you were always naive. You're a mother's son indeed, but you've betrayed your bloodline by siding with the Lees. Her family took everything from me!" Junggan's voice echoed through the desolate space, carrying the weight of years of perceived injustice.

Seungcheol, clinging to a glimmer of hope, pleaded for reason.

"I can't change the past, but causing harm won't right those wrongs. This cycle needs to end," he urged, his gaze unwavering despite the ominous figure holding a knife to your neck.

Junggan, driven by a festering bitterness, pressed on with his ultimatum.

"Your father and your in-laws stripped me of everything. Now, you'll pay the price unless you give up your shares and the CEO position," Junggan declared, the shadows accentuating the grim determination etched on his face.

Seungcheol, sensing an opening, sought common ground in an attempt to alter the course of events.

"I know you loved my mother. Is this what she would want? Revenge? Darkness?" he questioned, hoping to kindle a spark of humanity in his uncle's hardened heart.

A moment of hesitation flickered in Junggan's eyes, caught between the allure of vengeance and the echoes of a love that once defined him.

Seungcheol seized the moment, his voice resolute as he proposed an alternative.

"Let's find a way out of this darkness, together."

Seungcheol, desperation etched across his face, pleaded with his uncle. "See me as my mother's son then, as someone's son you truly loved. Is this what she would have wanted for us? For me to cause harm to the ones I care about?"

Junggan's cold gaze wavered for a moment, a fleeting glimpse of humanity breaking through the hardened exterior. Seungcheol seized the opportunity, buying precious seconds, knowing you were attempting to free yourself from the restraints.

"I know you've suffered, Uncle. I can't change the past, but I refuse to perpetuate this cycle of pain. Let her go, and we can find a way to heal, to break free from this darkness."

The room hung in a tense pause, Seungcheol's words echoing as he desperately sought a crack in his uncle's resolve. As you managed to loosen the ropes around your hands, you prepared to make your move.

Unable to sway Junggan, Seungcheol saw your decisive action. In a split second, you turned the tables on the masked assailant behind you, catching them off guard. Seungcheol seized the distraction, lunging at his uncle, attempting to overpower him and put an end to the sinister plan unfolding in that dimly lit room.

The deafening sound of a gunshot pierced the air, sending shockwaves through the dimly lit room. In a twist of fate, the bullet veered off course, sparing you but hitting the masked assailant square in the chest. The mysterious figure crumpled to the ground, revealing the chaotic tableau that unfolded before you.

Seungcheol, reacting with primal instinct, unleashed a barrage of punches on his uncle, Choi Junggan, driven by a potent mix of fury and the need to protect you. The room echoed with the collision of fists against flesh, a visceral symphony of retribution.

Heart pounding, you sprinted toward the chaotic scene, brandishing the knife you had managed to acquire. Desperation fueled your every step as you aimed for Junggan, determined to end the threat he posed. But the abrupt sound of another gunshot halted your advance, freezing you in place.

A searing pain gripped Seungcheol's stomach as he staggered back, a look of disbelief in his eyes. The room seemed to warp as your husband, once a pillar of strength, struggled to maintain consciousness. Panic clawed at your throat as you rushed to his side, frantically calling his name.

Meanwhile, the room buzzed with the arrival of law enforcement, finally catching up to Choi Junggan's malevolent pursuits. He was apprehended, the weight of his crimes hanging heavy as he was led away in custody. Mingyu and Myungho, responding swiftly, joined the chaotic scene.

Fingers trembling, you cupped Seungcheol's face, desperately trying to keep him conscious. The room spun, an unwelcome dance of disorientation as you fought against panic threatening to consume you. Mingyu and Myungho, sensing the urgency, swiftly called for paramedics, their voices a cacophony in the chaotic aftermath.

Seungcheol's eyes fluttered, struggling to focus on your face. The pain etched across his features intensified your desperation. "Stay with me, Seungcheol," you pleaded, your voice cracking with a mixture of fear and determination.

Myungho ushered the paramedics into the room, and their swift, practiced movements conveyed a sense of urgency. Assessing Seungcheol's condition, they worked efficiently to stabilize him. The sterile scent of antiseptic mingled with the lingering tension in the room as they set to work.

Mingyu, his expression etched with concern, hovered nearby, a silent pillar of support. The paramedics, clad in their clinical attire, exchanged urgent words, and the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment became a lifeline, a fragile connection to hope amid the chaos.

As Seungcheol was carefully placed onto a stretcher, your hand found his, the warmth of your touch a reassurance. "You're going to be okay," you whispered, more a declaration to yourself than to him, as if willing the words to manifest into reality.

*

The next day dawned with an incessant buzz of media activity outside the hospital, a swarm of journalists hungry for details about the tumultuous events that unfolded the night before. Cameras clicked, microphones were thrust forward, and questions were fired in rapid succession, creating a chaotic backdrop to the already tense situation.

Mingyu and Myungho, the steadfast guardians in this storm, ensured you were shielded from the relentless media frenzy. Their combined efforts allowed you moments of respite, a precious chance to attend to Seungcheol's side while navigating the whirlwind of investigations and inquiries.

The hospital became a temporary sanctuary, its walls offering both refuge and scrutiny. You moved through the corridors with the weight of exhaustion and concern etched on your face. The ordeal had left a lasting impact, and the layers of shock and fear demanded a toll on your stamina.

Mingyu and Myungho orchestrated a delicate balance, managing the influx of information while insulating you from the relentless bombardment of reporters. Their dedication ensured that you could focus on being by Seungcheol's side, a quiet force in the midst of chaos.

Seungcheol remained unconscious, a silent figure in the sterile hospital room. The aftereffects of the surgery lingered in the air, and the medical equipment surrounding him hummed a somber melody of monitoring and healing. As you sat by his bedside, your gaze flitted between the rhythmic blips on the monitor and the unconscious figure before you.

In the periphery, Mingyu and Myungho dealt with legal matters, fielding inquiries, and liaising with the authorities to ensure justice prevailed. The investigation into Choi Junggan's malevolent actions continued, unveiling a tapestry of deception and betrayal.

The quiet hum of the hospital room enveloped you as you maintained a vigilant watch over Seungcheol, waiting for the moment when he would stir from his unconscious state. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, creating an atmosphere of hushed expectancy.

Days turned into nights, and your presence by Seungcheol's side remained unwavering. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors provided a constant backdrop, a metronome marking the passage of time in the silent room. Mingyu and Myungho, the ever-dedicated allies, took turns supporting you, ensuring you had moments to rest amidst the persistent vigil.

Then, a subtle change began to unfold. The stillness in the room seemed to shift, and Seungcheol's eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the muted hospital lighting. The quiet anticipation gave way to a surge of relief as his gaze met yours.

For a moment, silence enveloped the room—a tableau where words seemed insufficient to capture the depth of emotions. You reached out, your hand finding his, and a faint smile played on Seungcheol's lips. The shared understanding transcended spoken language—a silent acknowledgment of the trials endured and the connection that persevered.

"My love," Seungcheol's voice, though weak, carried a resonance that resonated with the shared experiences of the tumultuous days. The weight of unspoken words lingered in the air—apologies, gratitude, and the silent promise of a shared path forward.

Mingyu and Myungho, attuned to the subtle shifts in the room, discreetly stepped outside, giving you the space for this intimate reunion. The hospital surroundings faded into the background as you and Seungcheol navigated the unspoken intricacies of the journey you had weathered together.

The initial frailty in Seungcheol's voice strengthened, and he began to piece together the fragments of what had transpired during his unconscious interlude. As you recounted the events, Seungcheol's expressions mirrored a spectrum of emotions—from disbelief to anguish and, ultimately, a steely resolve.

Seungcheol's concern radiated as he carefully examined you, his eyes searching for any signs of injury. Your sigh carried a blend of exasperation and affection, and a soft slap on his arm punctuated your reassurance.

"Stop worrying me! You got shot, but luckily it didn't hit anything vital," you said, your words laced with relief. Yet, as the weight of the recent events pressed down, a tear found its way down your cheek, betraying the underlying emotions.

Seungcheol, witnessing your vulnerability, regarded you with a mix of disbelief and tenderness. "Hey, I'm okay now," he gently assured, reaching out to wipe away the escaping tears. "I'm fine, just some pain in my abs. Don't cry."

As Seungcheol's fingers brushed against your cheek, attempting to alleviate your tears, a nuanced connection unfolded. Your laughter, tinged with both relief and lingering anxiety, echoed in the hospital room. Seungcheol's fingers delicately wiped away the tears that had escaped your eyes, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that transcended the spoken words.

"I thought... I thought I almost lost you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. The emotions of the past days surged to the surface, and you found solace in Seungcheol's reassuring presence.

Seungcheol's thumb brushed against your cheek, capturing the stray teardrops. "You won't lose me. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." His words carried a depth that resonated with the shared experiences, the trials that had tested the foundation of your relationship.

The intertwining of your fingers created a silent pact—an unspoken vow that traversed beyond the confines of the hospital room. The fragility of the moment, juxtaposed against the resilience you both exhibited, rendered the air charged with a profound understanding.

As the hospital surroundings faded into the background, you and Seungcheol navigated the uncharted territory of post-trauma healing. The physical wounds, while mending, paled in comparison to the emotional labyrinth that lay ahead.

Seungcheol's voice, a soothing cadence, broke the quietness. "We'll get through this, together. No more secrets, no more hidden agendas. Just us, facing whatever comes our way."

*

A week later, as Seungcheol was discharged from the hospital, you embarked on a dual mission—preparing a grand welcoming party for his return and orchestrating a surprise announcement of your pregnancy. The air was charged with anticipation, both for the joyous reunion and the revelation that would shape the next chapter of your lives.

Amidst managing company affairs and attending to Seungcheol's recovery, you meticulously planned the party, envisioning the moment when you would share the news with your closest circle. The guest list included your parents, Mingyu, and Myungho, each holding a special place in your journey.

Unbeknownst to you, Mingyu and Myungho had discreetly informed Seungcheol about the impending announcement, adding an extra layer of excitement to the occasion. They playfully briefed him on the need to feign surprise later, turning a heartfelt moment into a delightful act.

As Seungcheol made his way home, a swirl of nerves accompanied his anticipation. The idea of feigning surprise added a humorous twist to the heartfelt revelation, highlighting the camaraderie that had formed between him, Mingyu, and Myungho.

The echoes of laughter and warmth from the party venue set the stage for the surprise, with decorations and joyful chatter creating an atmosphere of celebration. You, with a radiant smile, welcomed everyone, your eyes holding the secret you were about to unveil.

Seungcheol, aware of the impending revelation, played his part with an endearing mix of anxiety and excitement. His eyes sparkled with the anticipation of a scripted surprise, concealing the joy that brewed within.

The party unfolded seamlessly, filled with genuine happiness, heartfelt congratulations, and a shared toast for the growing family. Amidst the festivities, Seungcheol's feigned surprise added a touch of playfulness, creating an unforgettable memory that blended sincerity with a lighthearted twist.

As you stood together, announcing the impending arrival of a new member to your family, the room brimmed with love and shared joy. The surprise element, a collaborative effort with Mingyu and Myungho, added a layer of laughter to the celebration, underscoring the support and unity that defined your close-knit circle.

As the echoes of laughter and celebration subsided, the warm glow of the party lingered in the air. The night wore on, and eventually, you found yourselves in the quiet intimacy of your home. The day's excitement had settled, leaving only the serene presence of you and Seungcheol, cuddling on the bed.

Seungcheol, ever the sweet and caring husband, wrapped his arms around you, creating a cocoon of comfort. The genuine happiness from the party still radiated from both of you, making the shared moments even more precious.

Hours ago, Seungcheol had brilliantly acted out the surprise of your pregnancy announcement, and now, in the quiet solitude of your bedroom, his tenderness shone through. He whispered words of love and anticipation, expressing his joy at the prospect of becoming a father. Every touch and caress conveyed the depth of his feelings, creating a cherished connection between you two.

"You know, Seungcheol," you began, your voice carrying a feigned hurt, "you didn't have to pretend to be surprised about the pregnancy. I know you already knew back in the hospital."

Seungcheol's expression shifted from affectionate to a mix of surprise and amusement. His eyes met yours, registering your playful accusation. You continued, maintaining the facade of being a little upset.

"I appreciate the effort, but I would have loved if you asked me about it in person," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Seungcheol, realizing the playful charade, chuckled softly. "You caught me," he admitted, a sheepish smile gracing his lips. "I just wanted to go along with the surprise, make it special for you."

You let out a melodious laugh, the earlier faux-disappointment dissolving into shared amusement.

Seungcheol, still holding you close, caressed your cheek and spoke with a sincerity that touched your heart. "I just want every moment, every announcement, to be special for you, my love. Our journey together, especially with our little one on the way, means everything to me."

You smiled, your heart brimming with love for the man beside you. "And it is special, Seungcheol. More special than any surprise. I'm grateful for every moment we share."

He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, sealing the sentiment with affection. "I love you, more than words can express."

"I love you too, Seungcheol," you whispered, cherishing the quiet closeness of the night and the promises it held for your growing family. The future, once shrouded in uncertainty, now felt full of hope and the enduring strength of your bond.

As you both drifted into a peaceful sleep, the echo of those three words lingered in the room, a sweet lullaby that embraced you in the warmth of love and the anticipation of a beautiful journey ahead.

[henk-heijmans]

"As evening hurries by", Hong Kong, 1955 - by Fan Ho (1931 - 2016), Chinese/Hong Kongese

[zombiebastian]

Proof that JJBA isn't just for teens and young adults:

My Grandad, who is 71, watched Jojos Bizarre Adventure, he is near the end of part 3 now. He absolutely loves it

He's been to a lot of countries/regions that are shown in Jojos such as Italy, India, Hong Kong, Egypt, Singapore and we live in England where part 1 takes place

He loves how the story (part 3 in particular) gives off old adventure movie vibes from the 60's-80's, he loves the references to these movies too. Even the horror movies such as Childs Play and Nightmare on Elm Street, movies he's not that big of a fan of, when he sees the enemy stands that reference them he's just like "Thats sort of like those movies my kids and grandkids like!"

And most of all he absolutely loves the music references, whenever there is one he's just like "Ay that guys name is Rubber Soul, thats an album by The Beatles" or "Wait did they just say that guys name is AC/DC? Like the band?"

He also makes Jojo references sometimes, not the memes but for example if I'm taking too long to do something he'll jokingly say "Hurry up or I'll attack you with my stand!"

The only bad thing about this is the fact I have to watch the awkward scenes with him, and soon I'm gonna have to watch the magnet and baby Polnareff episodes :/ I'm probably just gonna skip them though

[breakyourrxles]

『atarashī 』 ; 09—𝐹𝐼𝒩𝒜𝐿

❝ the other side of love ❞ | mlist  ｡

student!hongjoong x fem!reader, husband!yeosang x fem!reader — drama, dark romance, mystery, heavy sexual content [6,3k wc] ch cws: smut, the truth, angst, the bad guy doesn't lose i fear.

It's not often that the Akademiya halls find themselves graced by your presence.

Every vibrate of your phone, every receiving of an email or incoming phone call has your stomach in knots even days after you divulging your deepest, ugliest secret to your best friend. Seonghwa swears that he won't tell Yeosang—won't be the one to go behind your back and tell your husband the information that he is deserving of knowing—because it's yours, but it doesn't make the impending stress of it all feel any less suffocating as it hangs on your shoulders.

Nights with Yeosang back home have been quieter; more space created between the two of you since that night approximately a week ago. Home less, or locked away behind closed doors more than he might have usually been. The distance between the two of you feels so much larger than it ever has been. Before, as a result of his career. Now?

As a result of you, most likely.

Hurrying down the halls and towards your destination, you have plans for the early afternoon of today that this particular coming together of colleagues has the potential to impede. Yunho always has picked the worst possible times to ask you to come grab a snack with him, but today especially is doing you no such favors.

You stop in front of the door that brightly hangs his name atop a shiny bronze plaque, knock twice, and are quickly answered to shortly thereafter by the man himself cracking open the door, glancing to see you, and then just as fast ushering you inside and shutting the door behind you once more.

"Long time no see, we don't often meet here," you say, playful. 

Yunho doesn't answer though—unlike him, usually just as silly in his banter with you. Instead, he brings himself back around to sit behind his desk, pulls a folder up in his hand and brings your attention to it.

"We should talk."

Equal parts of you know exactly what that is, and the other desperately hoping to pretend that you don't—that you're wrong. Nervousness strikes through you, tingles at your fingers tips as you slowly sit yourself down in one of the large, plush chairs that stand in front of his desk, as if you're a student yourself being reprimanded for one thing or another.

But you don't have it in you to break the ice of this topic. Instead, you wait in silence as Yunho stares you down, something judging but equally compassionate in his gaze towards you; like he knows what you have gotten yourself into, and like you never stood a chance to begin with.

He inhales, long and heavy. "I'm sure you can guess what this is," he says, slowly opening the yellow file and carding through some of the pages. "That student we discussed not too long ago, Kim Hongjoong. It was a bit more difficult than anticipated locating the rest of his sealed files—suspected that he had a pretty close relationship with someone on the admin board back at one of his other schools if he was able to get something of this degree locked behind these kinds of walls."

Something of this degree.

Yunho reaches over to his side, takes his reading glasses between fingers and put them on his face just before looking back up towards you again.

"Wasn't quite expecting this, however."

Silence falls between the two of you then. A part of you—probably the strongest part—doesn't even want to know what it is that your friend has unearthed.

"What has he told you about his stint in Hong Kong?"

You reel at the question, but for two reasons. You ignore the main part of it, the most obvious part, for the thing that underlines it. "Nothing really, why would he tell me anything?"

Yunho glances up at you again, briefly, eyebrow raised.

You continue on. "He just said that it didn't really work out for him, he burnt out and flunked out. Not really anything worth telling I guess."

"Has he ever asked you for anything that may pertain to your status in regards to the Akademiya, Aurelia, or the people that you may know by familial and social association?"

Chest tightening and throat dry, you feel a particular clamminess to your hands that doesn't often find you. Heart beating strong and fast behind your ribcage, but you have no other choice than to attempt to steady yourself—swallow all of these feelings down, quell the tremble in your breath and soon to be your voice.

"No."

It's then that Yunho spins the folder to face you, pushes it across the desk for your reading and sits back against his chair.

"The reason he was removed from the school in Hong Kong was because he was discovered to be engaging in an affair with at least one person on the admin board. I say one because only one admitted to it, but with how tightly sealed his record is in relation to it, my guess is that he ended on good enough terms with someone who was able to lock all of his nasty little secrets away."

You don't really want to see it, and it takes you a good, long while before you're able to collect yourself enough to lean forward and take the papers into your hands. 

Yunho continues. "So, I made some calls to that school over the past few weeks to see if I could find out anything else. Of course, it's relatively  confidential information in regards to past students so no one really wanted to say much, but I did get a hold of someone who mentioned that one time his computer was confiscated for something wholly unrelated to all of this, his search history was full of names and people. Industry people, mostly women. Women who could probably help him get ahead if he played his cards just right." He shrugs after that. "That's heresy, but it's not exactly difficult to put the very obvious pieces together, if you ask me."

You're different. This is different. What you have, what exists between the two of you, is not at all like whatever this is—whatever this was, has been in the past. 

Quickly and with a soft but firm sound, you shut the file. Push it back towards Yunho and away from you, as if its proximity capable of poisoning a truth that you seem so sure of. Yunho's eyes fall upon you instead of the item in question, which you don't like. You don't want to hear this, don't want to be seen in relation to this. Yes, you asked to know, asked to find out, but that was then.

And this is now. None of that matters. None of that carries any relevance to your relationship with Hongjoong now. You catch yourself considering how jealous a woman she must have been to get him expelled for their goings on, but quickly squash that just as fast as it rears its ugly head in your mind.

"Thank you."

Standing, you quickly whirl yourself around and head back towards the door that you've only recently just entered. Yunho allows it, allows you to go without much of a fight, and with a hand on the doorknob you nearly make it free of the prison that his office feels like before he grants you his final words.

"I saw you."

You still, frozen in place as terror creeps up through your bones. No strength to turn and face him, but you can hear him lightly shuffle in his seat as he reaches towards the file across the way.

"A couple of weeks ago, at a cafe down the street—" You know precisely when and where he means, the recent memory of you and Hongjoong giggling in a booth together in public, for anyone to see. "With him. You two appeared...close."

There's nothing to say in response to it. What could you possibly say?

"He's certainly smart, I'll give him that much. You're not technically employed by the Akademiya yet you have everything and probably even more to offer him than someone from the Akademiya would."

"It's not like that," you bite back, cutting. Displeased by the implication of his words.

"It, and what is it, exactly? Your affair?"

The two of you silence, and you crack the door open to leave.

"You need to call this off."

"Or else?"

"It's not a threat," Yunho says, sympathizes in a way that you can hear laden in his tone.

Then don't punish me for it.

You don't wait to find out if there's more, back down the hall and in the direction from which you came prior.

After all, someone is expecting you.

Repeated banging on the wooden door in front of you, seven, eight, nine—it opens relatively calmly halfway through your attempt at the tenth—calm, considering the urgency in which you pound upon it.

Fist stilling in mid-air, you look upon the man standing in front of you; someone that you have grown so fond of in such a short amount of time, a whirlwind romance that has caused you to lose sight of yourself, your morality, the vision that you've always had towards your husband, your marriage, and especially yourself.

Hongjoong leans on the door, cocks his head to the side somewhat expectantly, none surprised by your being there of course but even beyond that, seemingly unbothered by the stress that wears blatantly upon your form.

"You're late," he says, playful in delivery. His hair is messy atop his head, strewn about like he has only just decided to roll out of bed now that you've arrived, and likely anticipating only ending right back there. 

You push your way inside with no fight from him, Hongjoong closes the door behind you and you drop your bag in the middle of the floor—pacing a little, back and forth along barely waxed wood flooring that hasn't seen much tender love and care since the man in question has moved in. He watches you as you do, doesn't bother saying anything and likely under the assumption that you very much have something to say to him instead, should he simply wait for it. Not wrong, but how do you go about it? How are you to say it?

"I—" you start, then stop just as quickly.

Hongjoong turns his head slightly, inquisitive. "You?"

But instead of words outright, you rush to close the distance between the two of you. Arms coming up to wrap around his neck, pulling him against you and lips fast and hard finding one another. You can feel the shock laden in his body, though there's no reluctance to be found in the action as he is just as quick to follow through to meet you as he always is—always has been—because he is just as enamored by you as you are for him. Just as obsessed, just as everything. Hongjoong wants you, no, needs you just as urgently as you do him.

And so, you part from his mouth, though only enough to speak against it, still so close that any attempt to look at him renders you crosseyed.

"I'm going to leave my husband," you say with finality. "I want to be with you."

You can feel the switch flip beneath your grasp, the tension in his body at the words as he gently pulls away—creates more space between you where you stand in the middle of his living room.

Hands on your shoulders and quite literally holding you at arms length, Hongjoong inhales with something of a hiss, eyebrows pressing together in thought, in unsureness, certainly not in pleasure.

You feel a little bit as though you're dying at the sight of him like this.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he answers, hesitancy deeply embedded in his tone with no room for miscommunication in as much. "I—we never started this thinking that you were going to leave him, that this was going to become something permanent, right? It was just something fun, something for you to do when you're bored and your husband isn't around."

That's not what you've said. That's not what you've implied. The realization of so many things comes crashing down on you like the weight of the ocean, and similarly, you starkly feel the press atop of your chest. Like you're drowning. Suffocating. All of the oxygen having been sucked out of the room in an instant. Just that easy.

"Hey," he says then, reaches out a hand towards yours, pulls you close again so that the other one can lightly press fingertips into the flesh of your neck, your ear. "Don't think about all of that stuff, you came over here for a reason, right?"

Hongjoong's head dips down, warm lips ghosting across your jawline, settling at your neck just below. Your heart still threatens to beat straight out of your chest, fall through and settle on the floor between both of your feet. He doesn't seem to be all too bothered by that fact though.

And with how weak you are rendered by him, even in times like this, suppose neither are you.

Rolling your hips, you sigh out into the open air of his bedroom. Hongjoong's hands sitting tightly settled onto your hip, one on your waist as you grind against him. One tried and true method of forgetting everything else around you that you wish not to acknowledge nor think about—turns out it works even in the case of him, too.

Gazing up at you from below, Hongjoong watches you intently as you work him. Bottom lip pulled up between his teeth and eyes never for a second leaving you, your body, anything about you. Always you, never anything else but you—and still, Yunho's words from earlier set so heavily on your mind in a way that you hadn't quite anticipated them to; the idea that all of this has been so carefully, perfectly orchestrated by Hongjoong, the idea that much of this is a facade.

How much of it has even been real, and since when has it started? Since the first day you met him? Since that evening at the jazz lounge?

Or maybe even before all of that.

How early on in the hunt does a mouse know that it is prey? Perhaps depending on the aptitude of the predator—it never does. Not until it's far, far too late.

Hongjoong pushes his hips up, pulls down down with a perfectly timed grace. Like he knows you're deeply muddled in your thoughts and he's trying to break you out of the trance. It works temporarily, whining and meeting his efforts halfway once you remember where it is that you are, and what it is that you're doing.

"You're in your head," he says, an obvious statement. Hongjoong takes the opportunity to sit up and roll you over so that you lie beneath him instead. Pushes himself back inside with a slow, calculated drive. You wonder if it's part of his plan to always fuck you like this when he feels as though you're getting away from him a bit. Slower, gentler; the deception of love.

You think about the woman back at his school in Hong Kong. The women. 

He kisses you, teeth lightly nipping into your lip in just the way that you like—and even still, even now—it brings about the same response. A desire for him, an unbridled want. He's so good at this, whatever this even is, in totality.

"Joong," you whisper against his mouth, he hums in acknowledgment of it. "Do you want to be with me?"

The question is purposeful, and you mean the words that make the sentence up, but even more than that it is a test; a test to see the way that he responds physically. Hongjoong kisses at the corner of your mouth, withdraws only to slowly press his hips forward again—tip to full length. Makes sure that you feel everything, all of him.

It tells you everything.

"The only thing I want is for the both of us to get exactly what it is that we want from the other." A surprisingly honest and thorough reply, all things considered. You can't help but guess that he is catching on to your understanding of things now.

Slipping a hand down and between your bodies, he starts to rub careful circles against you as he fucks you—slightly harder, just a bit faster as if intentionally trying to take you to a place where you're teetering on the edge of release. 

And even with the knowledge that you seemingly have, it works. A man that knows you and your body so well, in ways that you've not previously thought possible. Hongjoong has wrapped you tightly around his finger in every possible way, and though you try to bite back the moan that sits strangled in your throat because it's just too easy for him, and perhaps he doesn't even deserve it in the same ways he once has, it's still not enough. Not entirely.

"I know what we both want," he says, airy but sultry as he continues his drives against you. "You, you want a distraction from your utterly boring life. Someone to pay attention to you, someone who makes you feel special, like you're the only one in the whole world."

Your orgasm sits just out of reach, but the words are true and in some ways confirm the suspicion that you've now found yourself contemplating: empty words. A man willing to do and say whatever it is that you want to hear, and you, so pathetic and wanting, thoughtlessly eating it up without a moment of concern. Hongjoong had you in the palm of his hand from the first time he called you his favorite. 

Where does that leave him?

When you come, Hongjoong follows shortly thereafter; holds you tightly against him and continues on with the ruse in telling you all of the ways in which you are so special, so perfect, everything to him. When the both of you finish riding the feeling out through each other’s bodies, he brings his face up from the crook of your neck and kisses you deeply and lovingly—just like he always has. As if the walls of the fantasy haven't already come crashing down around you.

"And what I want is to finally catch that big, big break."

Ah.

You lie there beneath him, staring up at the ceiling and through strands of brown hair that don't belong to you. Hongjoong kisses the side of your face, then your jaw once more before pulling himself up and removing himself from your body completely.

"So, this never meant anything to you."

Glancing down to the edge of the bed where he sits, sorting through previously removed clothes, Hongjoong looks back at you from over his shoulder and snorts out a laugh. "Mutually beneficial, has it not been?"

"You lied to get what you wanted from me."

Hongjoong pulls his shirt over his head, lackadaisical. "I gave you exactly what you wanted from me from the start. You wanted me to pay special attention to you, so I did. You wanted me to tell you pretty words that your husband doesn't, so I did. You wanted me to fuck you stupid numerous times a night, make it exciting, an enthralling secret that only the two of us know about...so I did."

You can't help but laugh. Less at him, and more so at yourself. He's not even wrong, and that's the ugliest part about it.

"And you wanted my industry contacts."

He glances back at you again, a beat of silence passing between you before he opts to answer. "I think I more than earned it."

"You're a piece of shit."

Still lying there, Hongjoong stands, pulls his pants up and walks around to the side of the bed—closer to you. Hands you your clothing that he has kindly gathered and extends them nicely.

"All the more reason to be thankful that you're not actually in love with me then."

You snatch them from his grasp, and he makes his way towards the table that holds his glass of water from earlier. Watches you as you dress yourself again, and then the both of your attention drops to your phone as it vibrates with the notification of an incoming call.

It's Seonghwa, and while you're none in the mood to be hearing from him about this, right now, all things considered, it gives you even more of a reason to get out of here—whatever it is that he is requesting from you. Your eyes catch Hongjoong's, and he simply shrugs. None of this matters to him anymore, anyway.

"Yeah."

"Where are you right now? You're not in your office."

You glance up at Hongjoong again who can most definitely hear the man on the other end of the line. He shrugs.

"Why? What's up?" Still can't say it, still can't admit to it even after divulging as much to the man asking.

Seonghwa doesn't reply right away, instead you can hear him engaging in some sort of discussion with another man that appears to be in his presence. Your pulse immediately strengthens, heart leaping into your throat at the thought of who it can be—until a rather distinct verbal tone serves as enough of an indication that it isn't your husband.

It's Yunho.

"Just...can you come down here? There's some stuff that we need to discuss and put to rest once and for all—"

You go to agree, lips parting to speak but before you're able to get anything out, Seonghwa cuts in to give additional instruction for how you are meant to arrive.

"And since I know you're with him... bring Hongjoong."

When the call cuts, Hongjoong puts his glass down and turns on his heel towards the front door—swipes his keys and wallet from the table and begins shoving his feet into chunky black boots.

"Where are you going?" you ask, assuming the worst of him. Assuming an escape.

He looks over to you and down the short hallway.

"Tying up loose ends." He stands, pulling a light jacket down and beginning to shrug it on. "Shall we, then?"

Down the long, carpeted Aurelia halls, students mind themselves along with a handful of staff from the Akademiya meant to oversee the tasks that they are meant to be accomplishing. It feels so disjointed to you, entering the premises like this; less as the groundskeeper of such a place, and more as someone lining up for slaughter at the hands of your best friend and colleague who await your arrival within the confines of your office.

As you make your way, you occasionally and briefly take a glimpse towards the man walking beside you. Hongjoong walks just next to you; hands shoved in pockets and idly gnawing at the inside of his cheek in a way that might suggest a kind of discomfort at what may be waiting for him inside, but to someone who knows him better—to you—you know it to be nothing of the sort. A comical level of blasé, of indifference. Unbothered by the circumstances that have brought him here as a whole.

Because really, why should he? The checkmate has been served, he has already won his hand.

The door is cracked open and waiting for you when the two of you reach it, Seonghwa standing just beside it and peering over once he hears your approach. He pulls it open enough so that you and Hongjoong can slip through, and although your eyes are centered wholly on him, his are instead focused on the man of the hour—the catalyst for your downfall, the method of your treachery.

Inside, Yunho is standing beside your desk with that all too familiar file in hand. Still, Hongjoong is unmoved by it, by the sight of it, despite surely knowing what it is.

Seonghwa locks the four of you inside, and now it feels like a prison. Judging eyes all honing in on you and your grave misdoings. Only one way for this to get any worse, and you're thankful to Seonghwa for that, at least.

"Right then," Yunho starts, clearing his throat and opening the file once more. "I think it's probably best for everyone if we cut straight to the chase."

Yunho is your peer, a colleague of the Akademiya, but in this moment of the time he feels much like an authority figure over you. It's projection, you understand that much; feeling small in the mounting evidence of everything that you've done and everyone that knows about it.

"There are bits of your records that are missing from your file," he says then, questioning. Looking up from it to eye Hongjoong as he stands firmly between you and Seonghwa who appears to be guarding the door. You wonder if he is anticipating a kind of escape from your affair partner. You know him uninterested in doing anything of the sort, perfectly pleased with the outcome of things and no fear of facing the aftermath of them. "Care to elaborate on why that is?"

"Is it necessary?" Hongjoong asks, offering nothing else beyond it.

Yunho sighs, pulls his glasses off from his face and closes the paperwork in hand. "I can hazard a guess. I made a few more calls today to some of the people who handled your expulsion—"

Hongjoong grins, like he's enjoying the verbal chess that he gets to partake in as a result of this. "So, then you know."

"The 'talented college burn-out who can't seem to make it happen for himself' story is certainly a good one, I see it's gotten you far in your endeavors. Getting your permanent record sealed to this degree, getting what you need from other people, avoiding said expulsion altogether."

That makes you reel. With confusion painting your features, you look towards Yunho first—his eyes still glued to the man in question—then to Hongjoong, who takes a moment to meet you at the very least.

"What does that mean?" you ask.

"You weren't really expelled at all, were you?" Yunho says, hardly a question as he cocks his head to the side knowingly. "Rather, you were going to be, but just like you always do, you found a way to leverage that out of the hands of the person intending to cast it down on you."

Silence passes through the room, Yunho cuts through it to speak again. "You always go through life manipulating women to get what you want out of them, or are your efforts best kept in relation to school, and your career?"

Hongjoong laughs at that. "You call it manipulation, I call it equal and fair exchange. Everyone gets what they want, don't they?"

Seonghwa steps forward suddenly, angry in a way that can be seen in every inch of his body. 

"You've ruined a marriage, probably ruined lives."

"I've not told her husband, and presumably neither have you. I have no interest in ruining her marriage, or anyone else's. She got what she wanted from me, and I was happy to give it. As many times as she wanted, as often as she wanted. We were all just playing our respective roles."

"We're talking about people’s real lives," Seonghwa says again, another step towards the man in question that dredges up so much rage within him. You've not ever seen him this angry before, and a part of you sits only mildly concerned in relation to Hongjoong's physical well-being. Not that it would be entirely underserved, not that it might not even be somewhat cathartic, too. "You say whatever it is that you have to say, do whatever it is that you have to do to get what you want from the people around you and then have the audacity to call it something akin to equivalent exchange—but you have nothing to lose, now do you?"

Hongjoong shrugs. "We weigh our options everyday in making decisions for ourselves. If you don't take an umbrella out and it ends up raining, whose fault is that? The weather, or yours?" He turns and looks at you then. "If someone knowingly decides to engage in an affair—whose fault is that?"

"The person who took the vows."

This voice—a different voice—comes from the doorway, behind Seonghwa who has since inched further and away from that place. You know it before your eyes settle on the keeper of it, but it doesn't stop you from doing so in the most defeated manner. In some way, and much faster than you ever might have anticipated, it's calming in a sense—to see him standing there, listening, coming into all of this knowledge—because now you are free from the secret.

Now, everything is laid out on the table in front of everyone.

Seonghwa swiftly turns, sees Yeosang and then just as quickly looks to you. There's a sort of compassion in his eyes that you know you aren't deserving of, but is being given to you on account of him caring for you, him being your best friend for so, so many years before now. 

Hongjoong doesn't bother replying, his point long since having been made and a quiet understanding among all of you that regardless of how large or little his devious part being played in this has been—he will never admit fault for as much. To Hongjoong, your affair with him is as simple as a kind of bartering system between two people; he gave, and then you gave, and everyone was happy.

Hardly his fault that you are now displeased with the outcome of your own decision making, and for that, you can't even really blame him.

Yeosang steps past Seonghwa, makes his way straight towards you. Ignores your friend, ignores Yunho, and even more shockingly, ignores Hongjoong until he stands himself right in front of you: gaze pointed, judging, full of a kind of hate and resentment that isn't only now beginning its rise, but rather something that has long since been festering and now meeting its spark.

Breath trembling, you slowly reach out for your husband's hand. He allows you to take it into your grasp, though he offers you no reciprocation in the act. Staring. Far from thoughtless, but no words granted to you. 

Your resolve crumbles then, a sob choking out loudly into the open air of your office as the people surrounding you watch on. Falling to your knees, you keep hold of Yeosang tightly, the man still willing to give you little more than a disparaging watchfulness.

"How long?" he finally asks, voice firm and plain. You don't have the breath, the capability to answer him, but you're quick to realize that the question is not intended for you when the other half of your betrayal speaks up in your stead.

"Two months or so," Hongjoong replies, hands still lazily shoved into his pockets. "Haven't been keeping count."

"That where you were that night that you didn't come home? Up all night, worried sick, even had your friend lie for you."

"Seonghwa didn't know—" you choke out the best you can. It's the least you can do, not drag him down in your deception like this.

"Spend your days with another man then come home and spend your evenings in bed with me. Did you even love me enough—respect me enough—to use protection?"

You cry harder at that, Hongjoong sucks his teeth at the question before giving the reply that none of you want to hear. "Not once."

Yeosang shakes his hand free of your grip shortly after, takes his leave quietly and without another word. There are no other words spoken within the office where you lie with hands to your face and sobs ripping from your chest. You have no one to blame for this but yourself. 

Yunho leaves next, and Seonghwa just thereafter. He offers you a modicum of solace, at least; hand pressing into your shoulder to remind you that he's there, and maybe even that he still cares for you in some way, shape or form. In spite of your flaws. In spite of all of the ways that you have failed everyone that you love. Everyone who has loved you.

Hongjoong leaves last, and his presence above all is suffocatingly felt as he stands in front of you; calm, collected, wholly unconcerned by everything that has just taken place in front of him, and large in part, because of him. It's a last moment shared between the two of you when you finally gather yourself enough to look up at him from where you remain on your knees—through wet eyelashes and stinging red eyes—the two of you meet gazes once more. A reminder of something shared, because really, how could you ever forget?

His lips slowly thin into a line, neither a smile nor a frown, nothing more than an acknowledgement of your being there in front of him. A part of you still feels desperate to have him care for you, because the idea of it never having been real to begin with twists the knife that has long since been carved into you as a result of all of this. Please give me something, please show me that there is tenderness still.

Seconds pass that feel like a lifetime; memories of your time together with him flashing before your eyes like a film reel, someone else's life that you're watching, not your own. Smiles, kisses, touches, words; except it felt so real in the moment, how could it not have been real.

Hongjoong moves from place slightly, stills for another instant as he looks at you—as if thinking about what it is that he wants to do from here on out. You don't know what to expect from him now, because in such a short time you've come to find out that you have never really known him to begin with. A stranger to you, perhaps only now having just met for the first time today.

You watch him carefully, the way a single corner of his lip curves upwards in such a slight way that you think him attempting to fight it back, but unable to. Too pleased with himself, pleased with what he has done. 

Victorious in outcome.

When he takes his leave in silence, you're left with nothing else. Hongjoong never offers you any sympathy, nor consolation in the aftermath of a disaster that he had very much been a part of. 

Nor does he bother to thank you for everything graciously given to him.

"Can you bring me that box of files, please?"

With the change in weather and the months quickly passing by around the Aurelia Theater, new students come through the halls and make their way in and out of the empty rooms—picking and choosing their favorites, where they wish to spend the most of their time working on their crafts and busying their hands. A man is heart shouting down the way—something about how someone shouldn't be standing on one of the chairs—but you have enough to worry about on your plate, and thankfully, you have help with that.

Said box in hand, Seonghwa pulls around to the side of your desk, plops it on the floor in front of him and straightens himself back up into a standing position, along with feigning the pain of a strained muscle for dramatic effect.

You roll your eyes, seating yourself in your chair and attempting to sort through the immense amount of papers strewn about before you. "You know, you would think by now I'd get all of this shit settled before the new students and staff made their way in for the new semester."

"One would think that, yes. Far from your first rodeo."

"Thanks for coming to help out, by the way. I'll buy dinner tonight, we can go to that expensive place that you like that also sucks."

Seonghwa scoffs. "It doesn't suck, you just don't have a very refined palate. I accept your offer though."

Flicking corners of papers still in search of a particular contract, you rustle through numerous ones and in the flurry of it all, a pen flies from the edge of your desk and onto the floor just beside your feet. You stare at it lying there for far too long—too long for Seonghwa who you're sure wonders what sort of significance this particular item has to you—the sort of thing you can't divulge to him, the sort of thing that is no longer spoken about. Forgotten to the times. Cast out and never to be acknowledged again for as long as the both of you shall live.

You bend down and pick it up, open the desk drawer and shove it inside without a word. Looking up, your eyes meet Seonghwa's somewhat concerned ones, but you take comfort in knowing that he won't dare ask.

"What time should we go?" Changing the subject despite there not really even being one before.

You shrug. "I'm free after four, have to make the rounds with the new students and faculty, sign some more paperwork and then we can meet if you have somewhere to be."

On days like this everything almost feels normal. There are always subtle reminders of the upheaval of your life not long ago, but you're thankful for the forgiveness of your best friend—a man who has always had your back, and even when you're not even really deserving of it. 

It doesn't feel as empty as it would otherwise have to, as it probably should. The emptiness resides in your chest, where it feels as though your heart once sat; playing reckless games with people, and never anticipating having met your match.

Sometimes you see him on television, in magazines. You're welcome, you think to yourself as you pass. In those moments, the emptiness on your ring finger sits that much heavier than all of the others.

Equivalent exchange—you made him, and he destroyed you.

a/n: HOI! the end of another big and dramatic story from your neighborhood longfic-infidelity-drama-angst enjoyer! it was a wild ride and i hope yall had fun hehe. some of you guys suspected parts of the ending correctly, here is your retribution! you win [hand shakes] 💗 as always, ask box is open and i look forward to hearing from you :)

[joeinct]

As Evening Hurries By, Hong Kong, Photo by Fan Ho, 1955

[soupandflowers]

Day 2 - Is it possible to die from embarrassment?

Another late entry, however I'd say this one went more smoothly than the other. It only took me about 3 hours to write! Anyways, I could've cut this one short, but I liked this idea too much and decided to pull through with it. So, yay me? Next few days will just be drawings though because writing is not my forte LMAO. This one features the Asian family because I wish we had the boys interacting with the others' families. Poor Hong Kong. Also prolly OOC loooooool. Also tried to write Korea as rather more super outgoing and enjoy meeting new people. He still has his clashes though. Hopefully I did a little bit of justice to him here. No beta we die like HRE. Word count is 2,548. @hongiceweek

Is it possible to die from embarrassment?

As Hong Kong urges Iceland- who has dumpling bits stuck in his hair and shirt- upstairs to his room, he can’t help but apathetically want to pack his things, hitch a ride to the nearest bus stop, take a flight to the middle of South America and formally live out the rest of his life under a brand new identity. Someone else can take over as the personification of Hong Kong, he thinks.

And that is saying something. Among the two boyfriends, Hong Kong is easily the more savvy between the two. He knows all the right moves and words to get his partner to flush and hide his face in embarrassment. Hong Kong is teasing, smooth, and witty, thus it’s not very often or easily to make Hong Kong falter to its knees. The point is the dynamic between them has always been consistent. When it comes to Iceland, Hong Kong rarely ever loses his cool.

That is up until now.

Hong Kong hurries Iceland to his room and slams the door shut behind him. Locking it and pulling a chair from his desk underneath the knob for good measure. As Hong Kong rushes to his drawer to find suitable spare clothes, Iceland stands by and tries his very best to reassure him. Hong Kong says nothing as he finds a suitable shirt and disappears into his personal bathroom, with running water that can be heard shortly afterwards. He walks back out.

“Here. There’s a warm washcloth and some spare clothing that you can use. Feel free to wash your hair and use any of the towels as well.”

“Gotcha. “, nods Iceland. “Thanks.” He disappears into the bathroom and quietly closes the door behind him.

Then, a breaking of glassware and shouting could be heard from downstairs . Of course, the loudest voices belong to Taiwan and Korea, only to be outdone by China’s, only to be outdone by Thailand’s.

Hong Kong sits on the edge of the bed and heaves a frustrated sigh. He places his fingers on the bridge of the nose.

Just what the hell even happened?

— It was another world meeting that was just supposed to be the two of them.

When the meeting called for the noon break, Hong Kong caught up to Iceland wanting to ask if they could get lunch together. As they were exiting the meeting hall, Taiwan just so happened to be in the area and being the only person to know about their relationship so far, she saw them and was teasing her brother in the distance.

Unfortunately, talking to her was South Korea, who followed Taiwan’s gaze and called out to greet the both of them. Not wanting to get Iceland involved with his family, he urges him to hurry out the door.

But one thing leads to another and Korea’s attention draws China’s and also wanting to greet his student, meets them just before they reach the door. Before Hong Kong could take off in the other direction, Taiwan, Korea, and now Japan caught up to them.

While initially wanting to greet the fellow asian, the family took interest in the Icelander as well. Having not many chances or reasons to converse casually with someone outside of Asia, they took the chance to get to know him. In which, while Iceland shyly returned the gesture, Hong Kong was starting to get peeved that Iceland was getting a little bit too involved with his family. When Hong Kong had to break the conversation that they were late for lunch, China brought this up:

“Oh! Well, we would love to get to know you more, Iceland. Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight and I’ll treat you to some authentic Chinese cuisine!”

Hong Kong’s heart drops and he tries to pull his boyfriend out of there before he could respond. However, Taiwan and Korea blocked their way and pleaded for Iceland to visit. To Hong Kong’s dismay, his boyfriend agreed. He gazes at horror at his boyfriend as the rest of the Asians cheer and pull Iceland over to plan for tonight. Fast forward to China’s summer home in Beijing. For the past hour, the rest of Hong Kong’s asian siblings have been running around to prepare for Iceland’s arrival. In excitement to share their culture, China has been working on multiple dishes and cuisines all at once, Taiwan putting down homemade decorations around the kitchen and living room, Korea booting up the karaoke machine to put out his favorite songs to sing, and poor Japan just being pulled around by the previous three as they all demand for his help. The house was chaos.

Hong Kong could only stand there and watch in disbelief. He could withstand his family’s shenanigans, hell, he would often be a part of that too. But in the case of Iceland? Really? No way in hell.

Hong Kong palms his forehead as Japan passes by. Japan, sensing his frustration, assures the boy that everything will be alright and that the rest of the family is only doing everything in their power to welcome Iceland. Surely, his own family wouldn’t make a fool of themselves in front of a guest.

When he finishes that sentence, Taiwan calls for his help, grabs him, and pulls him abruptly to the side. This causes Japan to yelp and grasp the tablecloth as he falls with the rest of the tableset going down with him. Shouting ensues.

Hong Kong can only stand in horror. Just then, the doorbell rings.

It was as if a pin dropped. Everyone starts scrambling to fix the kitchen as Hong Kong quietly slips out of the room to greet Iceland.

Calmly, he opens and slips out the front door. Iceland is standing there before him and raises a shy wave.

Hong Kong only returns with a poker face.

He grabs his shoulders.

“DO NOT COME IN.”, he grits through his teeth. Iceland starts to tremble as his boyfriend looms over before him.

The door opens behind them and they both turn to find China standing there. China’s bright smile looks as if he was about to greet Iceland, however his face drops when he processes what he is witnessing.

Unfortunately for the boys, their faces were perhaps a little bit too close to each other.

An angry yell can be heard across the neighborhood.

—

When China finally calmed down and the boys explained what was going on, they made their way to the dining area. To Hong Kong’s surprise, the table was already set with the silverware and dishes set in place. The others come up politely to welcome their guest.

Despite the evening getting off to a rough start, the dinner itself began smoothly. Iceland’s mouth was already watering as everyone took their seats and gave thanks before digging right in.

If there was anything that at least went well today, it was the pride and presentation of the variety of Asian cuisine right before them, with each dish being of origin from each asian personification. And it made for great discussion too, as Iceland asked what each meal was, the asians took turns in explaining and sampling for him to try it.

What a great way to start off the discussion! That is until- China being a little bit too prideful of his homeland’s cooking- started sampling and piling food onto Iceland’s plate more than the others. Iceland, not wanting to be rude, could not bring himself to decline and he nodded nervously at the pile of food building up in front of him. Already annoyed with China’s meddling, Hong Kong stands up and forces his sensei to sit back down, in which he begrudgingly obliged.

Sensing the awkwardness in the air, Taiwan (once again, being the only one aware of the boys' relationship), started playing wingman and began doing icebreakers with Iceland. The topic started off general at first, but gradually, the conversation shifted in trying to frame Hong Kong the best way possible, much to his embarrassment. However, it only grew worse when Taiwan brought up their childhood together and accidentally slips in a story about her brother being so afraid of the dark that he needed China to sleep with him every night. Hong Kong was about to lose it again when Korea interrupted.

Wanting to join in the conversation, Korea opted in. Thankfully with the addition of Korea, the conversation shifts topics before any more embarrassing stories about Hong Kong could be revealed. Korea begins asking about Iceland’s home country, his culture, and the other Nordics, in which the Icelander happily obliged to answer. Unfortunately though, as Korea and Iceland ease into each other’s presence, his boyfriend found great difficulty to slip his presence back into the conversation.

Taiwan takes notice of this. In another attempt to assist her brother, she intervenes in their conversation, claiming that Korea is being inconsiderate to Hong Kong for barging into the discussion, with a tone that may-or-may-not sound a bit condescending.

Then, one thing happens and leads to another and all of a sudden, fighting ensues at the dinner table. Taiwan and Korea are fiercely throwing insults and shouting over Iceland before China intervenes, yelling at the both of them that they have a guest over and they are embarrassing themselves. Of course, this family has a long history of not taking shit from China and only ignored his intervention. Fortunately, the fighting moved on from the subject of Iceland, but unfortunately, the two started arguing about each other and personal matters that a guest definitely should not hear.

Offended by his disciples’ disregards, China calls out to Japan, who has been silently and anxiously watching the whole thing, to try and stop them. Japan stands from his seat and tries to mediate the two, but Taiwan takes advantage of the situation to claim that Japan sides with her. Mouth agape at offense, Korea takes a handful of food and aims it at Taiwan, in which she dodges and it hits Japan square in the face instead.

The tables ensues into chaos. Taiwan returns Korea’s gesture and soon enough, food is flying across the room as China starts screaming in rage as he witnesses his precious hardwork go to waste. In which both respond back by pelting him with rice and noodles, which only amplifies his shouting. Japan tries to crawl away but Taiwan pulls him to stand up, hands him a bowl, and orders him to start throwing.

For Hong Kong and Iceland, they take cover underneath the table. Hong Kong’s face is red in embarrassment and when he looks over to his boyfriend, his eyes widen at the sight of Iceland’s hair and upper shirt being covered in dumpling bits. He feels like he could bury himself alive underneath that table right then and there.

Suddenly, the front door could be heard opening and closing, followed by multiple footsteps growing near.

“Hey all! Philippines gifted us some pastries from his house! Whose down to try so-”, the voice is instantly silenced as a splatter could be heard.

The boys peer from underneath the table. As it turns out, the voice belonged to Thailand’s and he took a dumpling as well to the face. Macau and Vietnam were behind him in shock as they supported his balance from being smacked in the face.

The room went silent. Thailand was the best buddy anyone could ever have.

Unfortunately, he could be the worst enemy anyone could ever have.

Thailand roars and launches forward fiercely, but Vietnam and Macau struggle to strain him back. The shouting and food fighting resumes.

Hong Kong tugs at Iceland’s shirt and without saying a word, they both quietly sneak away from the kitchen. He takes Iceland’s hand and hurries him upstairs to his room.

And that, brings back to now.

As another shattering of glass could be heard downstairs, Hong Kong bends over and rubs his face, feeling absolutely mortified. He starts thinking of ways to get a new visa when Iceland exits the bathroom, his hair damp and wearing his boyfriend’s shirt. As Iceland sits on the edge of the bed beside him, Hong Kong pretends to keep his cool.

A moment passes, before Iceland places a reassuring hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Hong Kong avoids his gaze.

“You know my brothers are the same as yours, right?”

Hong Kong rolls his eyes. “Do your brothers throw food around as well?”

“Pfft, no… they throw dishes.”

“Even then, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t act like lunatics in front of a guest.”

“Maybe not", begins Iceland. He scoots closer. "But have you ever met Sweden? The guy doesn’t even do anything and you already have people throwing their wallets begging him to not mug them.”

Hong Kong tries to shrug it off, however a chuckle escapes.

Iceland grins. “Don’t get me started on Dan as well. One time, we had a diplomat over at Dan’s house and then a mouse ended up scurrying into the meeting room. The woman was freaking out so he pulled out his fucking battle axe from his display case. You know what happened next? He split it into a bloody half. I’m pretty sure she passed out right there.”

That got to Hong Kong and it sent him into a series of giggling. Iceland gently leans into him.

“And then you have Norge, who we keep telling him to stop talking to his trolls or whatever in front of others. But he keeps forgetting to do so everytime and everyone else stares at him like he is crazy.”

“And then you have Fin! You’d think he would at least be the one to know how to host a guest, but that guy is seriously weird on his own.”

Hong Kong‘s giggling turn into full-hearted laughter as Iceland’s grin grows. He leans into his partner’s side to plant a kiss on his cheek. Hong Kong smiles and returns the gesture by wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s waist and planting a kiss on his shoulder and then placing his chin on top of it.

“Maybe I should come over to meet your family instead.”

“Yeah, well, wouldn’t you like to see how that would turn out?”

Just then, they hear Macau calling their names for them to come back downstairs. The boys turn to look at each other before getting up and making their way back down.

When they returned to the kitchen, it became a palette of wasted food staining the walls and the floor alongside with two broken plates scattered by the table. They are immediately greeted with Taiwan, Korea, China, and Japan (who didn’t even do anything), kneeled over on the ground as Vietnam rants away at a lecture frenzy. To her right, Thailand’s smile has returned, but his eyes glare down at them menacingly as he rubs his cheek with a washcloth. To Vietnam’s left, Macau stands there and is the only normal-looking person in the room. He takes notice of the boys’ arrival and greets them.

Vietnam also takes notice as well.

“ALL FOUR OF YOU, APOLOGIZE THIS INSTANT TO THESE BOYS!!”, she demands to the four. They all lift their heads in the boys' direction. Just as when they open their mouths to apologize, it dawns upon them that Iceland is wearing Hong Kong’s shirt.

An uproar fills the house.

[kimwexlers-brownhair]

Oh back to Yellowsuccess! I think after the plane crash Logan would become obsessive trying to arrange a rescue until enough time passed for him to "cut his losses" and shut down, and things would get even nastier between him and Kendall because of how it seems that he's brushing off the disappearance of his supposed favorite child like it's nothing and Kendall takes out his own feelings of guilt for being a shitty brother onto him. He's also the first to recognize that Shiv is probably dead while Roman is the last, coming up with elaborate scenarios in his head for what she might be doing and maybe for a while believing he's got some kind of psychic connection with her. And then of course things gets Very weird when it turns out she's been alive after all.

Logan is not an idealist. He never claimed to be.

Look, life's not a walk in the fucking park. It's a rollercoaster that goes off the rails onto the crowd below. If you’re lucky, you scramble over the crushed bodies beneath you out of the wrecked train, bleeding all over the cotton candy squeezed in a dead fist. It's a shitstorm.

Terrible things happen. People die.

You can't make it to the soccer match that gets your daughter's team into Nationals. There have been too many whispers about cruises lately, so you need to be at that board meeting. To make up for it, you hire a few nonunion mechanics to spruce up one of your recently decommissioned private planes so your daughter and her teammates can fly to Seattle in a little luxury. The thing's no hunk of junk, just a little smaller and more delicate than the top of the line, newest models. It's not like they're flying to fucking Hong Kong. Compared to the far flung cities Logan regularly flies to, a quick trip over Canada from New York to Seattle is a mere hop, skip, and a jump. It'll be fine.

But no, actually, because the fucking plane crashes somewhere in the Canadian rockies.

Terrible things happen. People die.

But Siobhan --

Siobhan's not People. Siobhan is his.

It is nearly four in the afternoon. Logan skims over another damn contract about some obnoxious port problem off the coast of Brazil. ATN drones on in the background about Dubya's daring new Medicare cuts. Outside the glass doors he suddenly hears hurried feet, rushed whispers. He glances up and a PA is darting here, another darting there, and here comes Gerri looking pale as if she's about to lose her lunch. Frank and Karl follow, looking about the same. The new press girl Karolina trails them, speaking rapidly into her phone.

"What," he barks as they hussle in. God, don't tell him there's another NRPI situation he needs to sign away discreetly while deliberatey avoiding the written details. On top of this fucking Brazil thing --

But no, Gerri's pallor, Frank's stony expression --

"Logan," Gerri's voice is weaker than he's ever heard it, but as always she's keeping it together. "Logan, it's Shiv."

It doesn't occur to him. Not yet. But Gerri's face.

"What about her?"

Her tongue darts over her lips quickly and he's never seen her like this.

"The plane" --

Karolina cuts in, shifting her phone away from her mouth. "It's leaked. I've given Cyd the go-ahead so ATN can announce it first."

Gerri closes her eyes.

Fear, fear Logan is mostly able to keep at bay, rushes in like a flood from the creek Rose drowned herself in --

"Someone fucking tell me right now or you're all fired!"

Before they answer, from the TV comes, "We're getting word now that a private plane carrying a high school girls' soccer team to Nationals in Seattle has lost contact with airport authorities after being overtaken by a storm surge over the Canadian Rockies. It's early hours yet, but authorities fear the plane went down --"

Water, rushing water all up and down inside him, plummeting.

Nothing's quite real anymore.

Rose....

But Siobhan is not Rose. Siobhan is a scrappy fighter like him, a survivor. She has Ewan's annoying habit of disagreeing with him. She has her mother's acid tongue, his mother's grit. She has none of Rose's vulnerability. They don't even look that much alike outside of the coloring --well, okay, that's not strictly true, they look a little bit alike, okay, now that Logan thinks about it, they look a lot alike -- but they're not the same.

No. Shiv's tough. Shiv's tough. She's a survivor. She's his whip-smart Pinky with the wicked smile, his little hell-raiser confidant. His girl.

Logan doesn't believe in any of that woo wee woo, cosmic bullshit about feeling whether someone close to you is alive or not, but...Logan would know.

Shiv is his blood, his self. Add Shiv and her brothers up and they equal Logan. Ken, Rome, and yes, Connor -- sometimes they make up the parts Logan loathes about himself. But not Shiv.

So he would know if she was -- he would feel it, no matter how much he disavows that spiritual shit.

He doesn't feel it, not now. He didn't feel this coming at all. Shiv is alive. Shiv is alive.

Shiv is alive, so he has to act, now.

"Call DC," he says to no one in particular and so that means everyone. "Tell Cheney we need a search party. Top of the line military OP types, no bleeding heart volunteer morons. If he flinches, tell him we've been sitting on that story about the Chump-in-Chief falling off the wagon in Key West. Tell Laird to pucker up and suck off whatever Canadian officials we need to get full access beyond the border. Who's overseeing this? Get me on the line with them, now."

This is different from Rose because he is in control now. Total control.

Evening. The door opens and Roman is there in the study. His eyes are more haunted and frightened than Ken can ever remember them being, and Rome often wore that look in his childhood.

They embrace.

"Like, what the fuck, man? What the fuck," Roman asks into his shoulder.

Ken gives him a squeeze. "It's going to be okay, Rome. Shiv's too much of a bitch to go down that way."

Roman hiccups a laugh. "Yeah, she probably pushed the pilots out of the way and landed the thing herself. She's going to get those poor bastards fired."

They don't separate until Connor arrives. He wraps them both in his arms.

"Hey, guys. Whatever happens, it will be okay."

Both secretly resent him saying that, since it implies something might happen.

The door opens and here comes their father. He whispers a few words in Gerri's direction and for once shuts her and the rest out to address them.

Sill, when he speaks, his voice is as impersonal as the one he uses when trying to boost morale amongst hired underlings. Almost light, airy.

The only difference is his eyes. They're glassy. Unfocused. He doesn't meet any of their gazes.

He claps, starts. "Boys, uh, glad you're here. Glad you're here. Thank you for coming. Uh, it's all good. All good. We've got search parties setting off now. And we're getting word they've picked up a signal from the plane's transmittor. So it won't take long now."

He hasn't once said even her name.

Still, not just for Logan, but for Roman, Kendall says, "Yeah. Yeah. Of course. It's, like, impossible for a plane to completely go missing these days. They'll find the signal and pick them up."

"Right." The briefest of nods from his father, a rare sign of acknowledgement, thanks. He takes in a breath and finally brings her up. "Your sister's tough, now. She's tough. She's going to be just fine. Isn't she, Connor?"

Connor's sitting on the back of the sofa, and his face is grim. Still he nods. "Sure, Pa. Sure."

Roman's too much in shock to notice what they're doing. It's for him. With Shiv gone, Roman is the baby. It's a show for him.

The youngest son says nothing, just gives a weak smile behind the fingers covering his face. His shoulders are hunched upward like a dog mincing away from the whip.

"Uh-huh. Okay." Logan's eyes wander over the room. If they didn't know him, they'd think he was a confused old man who doesn't quite remember where he is. But Dad's not old, they all tell themselves. He's not. And he knows what he's doing. He's just a little...unsettled. "Thank you, boys. Thank you."

"Uh, dad," Kendall clears his throat. "Is there...is there anything I - we can do right now? Like, does the search party need volunteers?"

"Huh? Oh, no, son. We've got top of the line -- it's taken care of. "

"Okay. How about, how about Mom? Does - she knows, right? Or --"

"Ah? Oh, your mother. Uh, yes, I'm sure she knows by now. Someone must have...I mean, if you want to call her..."

"Sure, dad. Sure. I can do that."

Logan's gaze finally rests on Kendall, and there's true warmth there. "Thank you, Kenny. Okay, boys, I'll keep you posted." Then, without another word or glance, he leaves the boys behind him, their haunted eyes on his retreating back.

It's about five in the morning when Logan's bedside phone starts ringing. He's only been in bed for three hours, and been asleep for just about one. He'd just been dreaming of a campfire, and girls were laughing. Shiv's face is covered in soot but she's smiling, eyes sparkling as she knocks shoulders with one of her teammates --

However, he's awake instantly and answers. "What? Siobhan?"

Gerri. Her voice is very quiet, which means there's bad news.

Logan listens.

His veins are on fire. He's sitting on the edge of the bed and the darkness of the room turns red. "What? How? How can they lose the fucking signal? Those boxes are supposed to be goddamn indestructible, aren't they?...I don't fucking care that they're doing their best, Gerri, I need them to...well, don't they fucking know by now where the signal was coming from before it went away? Didn't they have jets going there?...oh, don't give me that garbage about the storm, I fucking know about the storm, that's how the plane -- interference? Fucking...what the fuck good are those fucking boxes if they can't give you the correct location through a fucking storm? Don't give me any shit about interference, Gerri!"

He listens a few moments more, breath chugging out of his nostrils like a bull ready to charge. "Well, you tell Cheney and the air force that I don't give a fuck. Tell them to keep pushing. This isn't some run of the mill commercial flight with some hodunk assholes from Iowa flying to Florida for vacation, this is my daughter. In fact, there are a lot of fucking important daughters on that plane. Tell that reptile that if he wants his braindead idiot reelected, I better not hear one fucking word about the operation slowing down. Fucking got that, Ger?"

He slams the phone down. His nerves are open and raw, and the darkness is too close and Shiv is out there, she's out there and the signal is gone.

From below, Richard, giving the morning's instructions to staff, hears a roar and the phone crash against Logan's bedroom wall.

Eleven-and-a-half months later, Kendall has to see it on the news like everyone else.

He doesn't give Richard any time to warn Logan before he bursts into his father's home office. His father is not at his desk but sitting on the couch holding a scotch, staring at nothing.

"What the fuck, Dad? What is this? You're fucking calling off the search?"

His father doesn't move, doesn't look at him. "It's been almost a year, Kendall." His voice is a thousand years old.

"So? That's it? We're done? You're not gonna fucking..."

"Not gonna fucking what, Kendall?" At last his father turns to face him, and his glazed eyes are even older than his voice. "We've done everything. Searched everywhere in that damn wilderness." His eyes are on the amber liquid in his glass. "Nothing."

"W-well," Ken's stammer is back. "We-we-we can"--

"Kendall," his voice is sharp, commanding. "It's done. There's no going back. Your sister..." Kendall must be rocking on his feet, because it looks like his father is swaying. "Your sister is gone." His voice cracks at gone.

But Kendall won't hear it. "Come on. Come on, Dad. It's not like you to give up like that. We"--

"The shareholders aren't going to want anymore money going to a search party that isn't finding anything."

"So that's what it all comes down to? Fucking money? Dad? Again? That's all that matters to you, now even?"

He sees the storm cloud gathering in his father's face. "We can't keep throwing resources" --

"Throwing resources? That's what you call funding the search party to find your fucking daughter? Your alleged favorite?"

"Don't fucking push me, son."

"No, this is -- wait." Ken's eyes cast about the room. "What...where?" He cranes his head all around, checking every end table, every surface. "Dad, where..." his eyes focus back on his father. "Dad, where are her pictures?"

Logan says nothing, stares into nothing, his face saying nothing. The only horror is in his wide glazed eyes.

Kendall points to the hutch against the wall. "The picture of her and Rome as kids? Her yearbook picture on your desk? The team on the wall? Where...where the fuck are they, Dad? Where did you put them?"

Logan's voice is as low as it is ever capable of being. "They're in her room. Which is locked."

Ken is too numb for a second, but then the pain and anger burst out. "In her room? Locked away? Like she never even fucking existed? Jesus fucking Christ, Dad"--

Logan is all at once on his feet, the drink slammed down on the coffee table. "And what the fuck have you been doing, Kendall? Hm? What have you been doing to find your sister? All this time, playing with your dick in your overpriced dorm room at that Ivy League dump instead of joining the search party?"

Kendall doesn't know whether to laugh or scream. "You told me not to volunteer, Dad. You told me not to interrupt my education. You said I wouldn't know what I was doing and I'd only get in the way"--

Logan's red face is inches in front of his. "Oh, you needed my permission, hm? My permission to go out and find your baby sister?"

"That's not fair" --

"GO ON. FUCK OFF. Your sister is gone, Kendall, and no amount of mewling about her pictures is going to bring her back. So, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE AND STOP WASTING ANY MORE OF MY GODDAMN TIME."

Logan turns away and marches over to his desk. His back is to Kendall, but Ken sees his arm go up over his face. Blocking everything out.

A stab of love. "Dad, I" --

"Go on, Kendall. Go on. Go and see to your brother. I can't right now. I need...I need some time."

Roman's sitting on the stairs when Kendall comes out. He's been home since everything started, "for Dad", he says. As if Logan has noticed at all. He's insisted throughout that Kendall stay at Harvard, but he's never given a serious shit about what Roman does.

"Is...is it true? He's called off the search party?"

"Yeah, Rome. Yeah, it's true."

"But why?" His voice breaks. He's trembling. "Why would he do that?"

Ken feels empty, like a clockwork man. He parrots his father. "It's been close to a year, Roman."

"So?" Roman is on his feet, arms wrapped around his slim body. He's been losing more and more weight recently. "That doesn't mean anything. If...if they're close to water, if there's game, they can still be..."

"Roman." Kendall closes his eyes, breathes. "Roman, she's gone."

A jolt shakes Roman's body. "Oh, fuck you, Kendall. You don't know that."

"Rome" --

"You don't know that. Anything could have happened!"

"We would have heard by now."

"Not necessarily! There's a lot of fucking wilderness out there."

"Right, so the chances of them making it this long"--

He stops short as Roman suddenly shoves him hard in the chest.

"Shut up! Just shut the fuck up, man! You don't know shit!"

"Hey, hey, Roman" --

"No! Fuck you! What, they teach you about surviving in the woods in your fucking Harvard business classes?" Another shove. "You're just fucking useless."

Kendall can't take it and he spits back. "Oh, yeah? Well, at least I'm not delusional."

"I'm not delusional."

"Yes, you are. This whole time you've never even considered that she might be" --

"Because"-- Roman cuts himself off and turns away, hands on the back of his head.

Kendall frowns. "Because what, Rome?" His shoulders slump. "Not because of your dreams. Bro, please don't tell me that."

Rome's arms are crossed again, still turned away from his brother. "Fine, I won't," he mumbles.

"They're just dreams, Roman," Kendall says for about the millionth time.

They started soon after the plane went missing. Shiv almost burning up on the crashed plane, but Roman tore off the seat belt so she could escape. Shiv happily splashing her friends in a lake they just discovered. A creepy cabin in the woods. A dark-haired girl wailing over a frozen body as the first snows fell.

Roman would never meet Ken's eyes when telling him, usually as they sat on his bed in the evening. He'd stare at his bedspread and say, "I don't know, they just feel really...real. Like I'm actually in front of her. Sometimes she sees me and gets really shocked but we..talk and stuff."

Ken never said much in reply.

He didn't want to say he'd been having the same dreams.

And now, he just won't put up with it. "You don't have some kind of psychic connection with her, okay? Like, you're not even twins, you're Irish twins." Born barely a year apart. Logan liked to throw the term around because he knew it bothered their old-English mother who deep down carried an ancient bigotry against the Irish like the rest of her family.

Roman finally faces him. "Yeah, I fucking know that, okay? But they feel more like visions than dreams"--

Kendall now shoves him hard, because he just had a flash of his own dream from last night, of Shiv stumbling in the snow and sniffling. She looked so relieved when she saw Kendall standing there in the cold, ready to help her up.

Another shove, and Roman whimpers. "You're fucking delusional, Roman. She's gone. She's dead, all right? She's fucking dead."

He doesn't wait to take in his brother's tears. He storms out of the house, pushing past Richard.

Roman collapses on the steps.

Logan can hear his youngest boy's sobs through the closed door. He's relieved. They're covering the choking sounds he himself is making. He's slouched over the window seat, clutching the curtains.

He can't stop it now, tears cloud everything.

Just last night he was sitting by Siobhan on the bank of that frozen lake again. She was wrapped up in that patchwork coat made out of bear and deer skins. He could see scars on her face. That wolf nightmare was true. His arm was around her, and he was telling her stories about how he and Ewan used to ice fish.

A little over nine months later, the call comes. Crash site found.

Survivors found.

[satohqbanana]

Josephine

Summary: This is a translation of my nonfiction essay on Dr. Jose Rizal, the Philippines' national hero, and his relationship with his wife Josephine Bracken. As this was first published in 2015 with the assumption that the reader would have working knowledge of Dr. Jose Rizal's life, I've taken the liberty to add helpful details and context to give readers a better picture of the topics being discussed. Note that this was NOT proofread.

Dr. Jose Rizal was in a great deal of loneliness in his exile to Dapitan City, Philippines (a decision by the then ruling clergy and government officials, following the publishing of his two "subversive" novels Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo, which criticized the Spanish colonial rule over the Philippines at the time, and his support of groups who are against the Spanish colonial rule). He was miles away from his family and close friends. Though he had plenty of lovers, none else have ever been as close to his heart as the late Leonor Rivera, his childhood sweetheart. Come the end of February 1895, his life lightened up at the arrival of Josephine Bracken.

If one would consider how real life goes, such a fairy tale romance was too good to be true. Many relationships dissolve due to the flames of passion dying out - the same flames that once blazed when they met, lonely and yearning for companionship. In Dr. Rizal's case, while he had plenty of patients, none of them became his friends or caught his fancy. It was as if he'd been truly alone, until he met Bracken.

Bracken was then 18 years old at the time. She was born in Hong Kong to Irishmen James Bracken and Elizabeth Jane MacBride. Her mother died in childbirth, and hence she was set up for adoption. The one who took her in and raised her was George Taufer, her godfather, who at the time was blind. Taufer found no doctors in Hong Kong who could treat him, and it led him to Dr. Rizal, who was famous as an ophthalmologist. Of course, in his trip to the Philippines, Taufer brought Bracken along.

In Professor Gregorio Zaide's book, Jose Rizal: Life, Works and Writings of a Genius, Writer, Scientist and National Hero, which I used as my major reference for this essay, Bracken too fell in love at first sight. It was not mentioned how so, but they already decided to get married within one month of meeting each other. "Unfortunately", Father Antonio Obach, the head clergyman of Dapitan City, did not agree to marry them, for they did not have permission from the bishop of Cebu, who held jurisdiction over marriage and other Catholic ceremonies in Dapitan City. This is possibly due to Dr. Rizal being excommunicated from the Catholic church for his critique of the corrupt Catholic clergy at the time. It is likely that the couple never got permission to marry at all, for it is also stated in Professor Zaide's book that no other priest would agree to marry them, either.

Could we call this love? Can we consider a very quick decision to marry as a serious relationship? Did Bracken truly feel love for Dr. Rizal, or was it that she was filled with overwhelming pity for the man that she mistook it for such? Did Dr. Rizal hurry their relationship for he could already foresee his death? Was Bracken simply too young to understand and make a clear decision on such matters?

Based on the above given situation, I would say it wasn't as serious. A strong and stable relationship that is intended to last long, such as marriage, is not easily formed in such a short time. Partners ought to spend time not just to learn more about each other or each other's families, but also to find within themselves the efforts and commitments they could give to the prospective married life. Such decisions should not be rushed to avoid regrets in the end.

Even in today's society, everyone is in a hurry with regards to romantic relationships. The younger generation is too eager, and the older generation is running out of time. So many end up committing grave mistakes and feeling deep regrets. Despite such stories and warnings, people keep rushing anyway. They (we) never learn.

It is possible that Dr. Rizal and Bracken were the same way. And possibly, due to their whirlwind romance and their age gap (Dr. Rizal was then 33 years old), Taufer too opposed their relationship. He tried to use suicide as a leverage against Josephine - a very abusive tactic - and it was successful.

Taufer and Bracken eventually left for the capital of Manila. Taufer never received treatment as Dr. Rizal deemed his condition incurable anyway, and soon Taufer left for Hong Kong. Meanwhile, Bracken chose to stay with Dr. Rizal's family in Manila.

In the book* that Professor Merriam Bernardo Cesar lent us for our project, it is said that Dr. Rizal's family thought Bracken was a spy sent by the clergy, a threat to Dr. Rizal's life. This is understandable, as around that time, someone pretended to be a relative in an attempt to steal Dr. Rizal's letters of correspondence with actual relatives and friends.

Eventually, Bracken made her way back and reunited with Dr. Rizal. In Professor Zaide's book, it was stated that since no one would give them the sacrament of marriage, the couple went to a church, held hands, and accomplished the ceremony themselves. If man can't do it, God himself will do it. They were not legally husband and wife, but they lived as though they were, which caused a lot of rumor-mongering in Dapitan City.

I've seen something similar in an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. In a dilapidated church, which had the cross by the altar intact, the titular characters too held hands and made their vows by themselves, with no one else - not the clergy, not their families, and not even their friends - to support them. How pitiful such couples are. Two individuals who firmly decide to love each other and be with one another, separated by the selfish interests of other individuals. Perhaps I'd been wrong in my initial assumption of the depth of Dr. Rizal and Bracken's relationship.

It is also written that they were eventually blessed with a child the following year, 1896. However, the child was born premature, lived for three hours, and was named by his father after his own father: Francisco Rizal y Bracken.

Such a tragedy is truly unfortunate and very sad to think about. As Professor Cesar said in our interview with her, it is only Bracken who Dr. Rizal ever had a child with. Even the name that he gave to their son was the same name as his own father. Due to this, I can conclude that Bracken was indeed very, very important and dearest to Dr. Rizal's heart. I have been mistaken in my limited judgment.

If there was something even sadder to think about, it is the couple last moments together. There are those who say that Dr. Rizal and Bracken might've been married, with actual priests present, just before Dr. Rizal was shot in Bagumbayan, Luneta, Manila. (Dr. Rizal was eventually tried and sentenced to death by firing squad on December 30, 1896, months after his son's birth and death.) Dr. Rizal's last gift for Bracken was a book with the words, "To my dear, unhappy wife, Josephine." How agonized the two must've been - Bracken, who was so young and had already lost a child, and Dr. Rizal, who before loving her, loved his nation and homeland so dearly he'd give up his life and his own happiness defending its rights.

And this nation that he prioritized over anything else, has not yet seen a true sliver of freedom even until today.

Tis truly a tragedy.

[driftwithme]

Timetravel au where the breach closing sent Mako and Chuck to the past, specifically to the day Raleigh arrived to the Hong Kong Shatterdome and their plan to act normal as they figure out what's happening goes to shit the minute Yancy walks in, not Raleigh.

Mako goes dead pale as he descends with Pentecost from the helicopter and Yancy mistakes it for animosity, but Mako recovers enough to not scream at normal. Now, Chuck is a totally different story because he let's out a loud "what the fuck" and Herc tries to hurry Yancy so Chuck won't make a scene about there and Mako basically orders him to shut the fuck up with a glare. Herc and Pentecost know there's something going on with their kids but they do not have time for that.

Which means you're left with a stiff Mako guiding Yancy to his room and trying to very much not look at the photo wall (she hasn't been able to hug Pentecost or cry because they got a second chance or even hug Chuck himself), when Yancy confronts her and she has to admit that what she knows about him is limited, but she's nevertheless glad to finally meet him.

It's complete torture. She turns around and almost runs to find Chuck. They are acting publicly weird but they don't care, they know their fathers know and they'd have to face it all later, but for now Chuck brings Mako to his room and he lets her cry all she wants as he passes around, cursing the kaijus and the Beckets alike.

When Chuck finally learned to act friendly around Raleigh, the block goes and finds a way to get erased from existance and bring his brother back. Chuck is only glad he can maybe start again with a different Becket, he's also in denial 'cause he refuse to grieve over Raleigh, okay? but Mako is having a whole crisis.

What if she has to drift with Yancy? How can she explain him that she was hoping to see his dead brother, without it sounding like she would prefer Raleigh to be alive, not Yancy? Raleigh taught her how to fight in real life, he was her first co-pilot, she has memories in her head with him that she can't explain nor does she know how to block. The worst part? She know can tell how much of Yancy was in Raleigh and how much of Raleigh is in Yancy. It's like a ghost replacing a ghost, a fucked up haunting Mako doesn't deserve.

Still they put their shit together, 'cause they are two of the best rangers alive and no one can deny that, and make a plan. Their gonna take that second chance Raleigh won them and correct everything.

[letsgofoletsgo]

Confronting Chau

“I think this is it.” Newton held a damp scrap of paper in his hand, a foreboding emblem imprinted on it. For the past half hour, he and Ramsey had been scouring the underbelly of Hong Kong, searching through the stifling crowds and cold rain for anything resembling their clue. Even through the elements, they were resolute in their search, even as they wandered into shadier parts of town. Keeping close and vigilant, the two laid as low as they could, scanning the buildings and streets for anything significant. 

Eventually, they came across a building with two scarlet pillars. The sheer presence of it almost intimidated the two a bit. They examined it discreetly, until a glint caught Newton’s eye. Upon shining his flashlight, he was met with the same emblem that was on the paper. They had found their guy. 

A man that appeared to be a bouncer looked down at them quizzically, but opened the door for them without a word. Newton and Ramsey were greeted with a stuffy, dimly-lit room. Various items filled the shelves, jars containing odd substances, bags with microscopic labeling, dusty artifacts that were difficult to make out from a distance. The two became increasingly on edge within the cramped atmosphere, eyes darting around half out of searching, half out of caution.  

“Psst, hey.” A whisper shot from behind the counter. 

The two came face to face with the shopkeeper, a sly smirk on his aging  face. “You looking for some Kaiju bone powder?” 

“Er… Bone powder?” Newton muttered, sharing Ramsey’s confusion.

The shopkeeper chuckled, emerging from the counter to meet them face to face. “Male potency.” He eyed up both Newton and Ramsey, an air of suggestion in his tone. “I take it myself.” 

“I see.” Newton chuckled awkwardly. “N-No thank you. We’re looking for Hannibal Chau.” 

His face shifted, almost falling in disappointment. He made a motion to the men standing at the other end of the shop, who promptly secured the entrance to the building.  

“You want Chau, huh?” He pulled a lever hidden in one of the shelves, causing the wall behind him to part open. “Good luck!” 

Behind the shelves was revealed to be a much larger, sprawling room. Ramsey was shocked by the sheer contrast of the space, but Newton found himself enamored for different reasons.  

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed, face glowing at the site before him. “Oh my god, this place is heaven!”  

Various Kaiju parts surrounded them, all being tended to by hurrying workers. Samples, test tubes, and deformed live specimens were being examined and dissected. 

“That’s a lymph gland from a Category 2! And what are you working on here? Is this a cuticle? In mint condition?”” Newton began to sporadically observe the various specimens, Ramsey scrambling to keep up at his sudden pace. ‘”And-and is that a kaiju skin parasite?”  

Ramsey showed clear disgust at the writhing creature, contrasting Newton’s overwhelming fascination. “They usually die as soon as the kaiju falls, I thought you couldn’t keep them alive!”

“You can if you soak them in Pneumonia.” 

The two froze at the booming voice behind them. On the other side of the room stood a tall, wide-set man with white hair. The gold plating of his shoes clicked against the floor as he turned around, casting a piercing gaze even from behind his specs. 

“What do you want?” 

“We-We’re looking for Hannibal Chau, was told he was here.” Newton said. 

The man slowly began to approach. His maroon suit made him stand out like a patch of blood against the fluorescent lights, a bad omen of trouble in the air. Ramsey and Newton subconsciously drew closer to each other as he towered over them.

 “Who wants to know?” He stared down intently at the doctor.

“... I really can’t say.” Newton muttered, stiffly fiddling with the paper in his hand.

There was a pause. Newton looked up at him with apprehension, trying to read the expression hidden behind his glasses. 

Then, before he could even register what was happening, Newton felt his head being forced upwards along with a searing pain in his nose. Chau had him by the end of a knife, jaw locked in an intimidating display. 

“HEY!” Ramsey shouted. 

Xe jumped to grab his arm, but Chau was faster, snatching xyr forearm before xe could. Without looking away from Newton, he tossed xem aside as if xe weighed nothing, sending xem to the ground with an audible thud. Amidst the chaos, Newton glanced at Ramsey, understanding the severity of the situation.

“Stacker Pentecost sent us!” 

Finally, Chau drew back his knife. Newton’s hands flew to his face, recoiling in pain. However, the feeling quickly resided as he refocused on Ramsey. He nearly tripped over himself as he sank to the ground.

“You okay?” He asked in a frantic whisper.

“Ueah, yeah I’m okay.” Ramsey nodded, rising slowly. 

Newton placed his hands under xyr arms, supporting xem as xe stood up. He made sure xe was standing steady before turning his focus back on Chau. His disregard for them was evident as his back was turned, more concerned about cleaning his knife. 

“Ah, great- so I take it you’re Hannibal Chau, right?” Newton called to him, voice bristling. 

“You like the name?” Chau boasted. “I took it from my favorite historical character and my second favorite Szechuan restaurant in Brooklyn; now, tell me what you want, before I gut you like a pig and feed you to the skin louse.”

Even Chau himself wasn’t expecting Newton’s answer to the question.

[ejzah]

Maybe a Strip Club Would be Safer, Part 2

***

Deeks quickly noted that one man looked in his mid-40s with shoulder-length graying hair while the other seemed maybe early 30s with a short cap of black hair. He took a quick step back, intending to conceal himself in the bathroom long enough to figure out a plan. Unfortunately, the older gunman looked up before he’d full ducked inside, his mouth set in a uncompromising line, and raised his weapon from the region of Eric’s head to aim at Deeks.

Eric closed his eyes, and swallowed visibly, clenching his hand on top of the table.

Callen eyes flicked up at Deeks, his expression vaguely dismayed. Apparently he’d been counting on Deeks leading their rescue too.

“Get over here and sit down,” the man ordered in moderately accented English. His steady hand and glare indicated he wasn’t unfamiliar with guns.

Deeks looked to Callen again, who gave the slightest nod of confirmation, and then followed the directions, heading towards the table.

“Look man, I don’t know what’s going on, but we don’t want any trouble,” Deeks attempted, playing on the confused and slightly stupid American persona.

“No me engañarás. Sabemos que son agentes federales.”

Well, that wasn’t great news.

“Siéntate.”

“You’re right, we are federal agents, but we’re not here in an official capacity,” Sam spoke up in an even and sure tone that usually made people listen to what he said.

“Por supuesto que lo eres. ¿Por qué deberíamos creerte? Mientes para ganarte la vida,” the second man said. He laughed sharply, his eyes dark with malice. “Los vi arrestar a un amigo hace años. Nunca olvidaré sus rostros.”

“Because it’s the truth,” Deeks responded. “We’re here on a trip. Sin armas, sin insignias. Puedes comprobarlo por ti mismo.” Moving slowly, he held his arms wide, offering them the opportunity to check him. Hopefully, they wouldn’t think to look in his left boot.

The younger man walked around to Deeks’ back, and roughly patted him down, giving him a shove forward when he was done. Apparently they’d already searched the others or took Deeks at his word that none of them were carrying.

“Even if you you are not armed, I don’t trust you,” the older man said, gesturing for Deeks to sit once more. This time, Deeks listened. The man paused, then brushed his bottom lip, waving the gun a little carelessly. “Ok, so tell me why you would be in Mexico if it’s not for business.”

“For my bachelor party,” Callen answered with full irony.

“Oh, he things we’re stupid, Gael.” The older man flashed a sarcastic grin in Gael’s direction. “There are no resorts in this area.

“Actually, we were supposed to be going cave diving,” Deeks explained. “Which, might I add, I said was a terrible, terrible idea from the beginning.” He glanced between the two men. “Somehow I’m guessing we that you’re not keeping us here just for the the fun of it.”

“Deeks,” Sam cautioned.

“And more importantly, what are you planning to do with us?” Callen asked. “Even though we’re here as civilians, if we’re gone past our planned stay or don’t make it back to our hotel, people will start looking for us.”

“Yes, I have a friend who will be extremely angry if I don’t make it back to Hong Kong. And you really don’t want to see what happens when she gets angry,” Eric added, speaking for the first time.

“You’d be surprised how good we are at hiding things,” Gael said with a dark chuckle. “Matteo, we should leave now.”

“No, no los lastimes!”

They all turned as the young waitress hurried in from the kitchen. Deeks heard someone faintly hiss a caution, but she ignored it.

“Margarita, vuelve a la cocina. Este no es tu negocio.”

“¿O qué, me matarás a mí también?”

“Margarita—”

“No, Matteo! I am sick of watching you solve everything this way. They were not causing any problems and now you bring this into my restaurant.”

“They’re federal agents!”

“¡Y eres estúpido!”

Gael stalked to the middle of the room, raising his voice above Matteo and Margarita’s. Margarita for her part didn’t seem even remotely intimidated by the guns or threats.

Catching Deeks’ eye, Sam discreetly slid a knife off the table and onto his lap.

“Now is our chance,” he muttered, barely moving his lips.

“We gotta make sure she’s clear first,” Deeks whispered.

“That’ll be your job,” Callen decided. “Sam and I will take on those two.”

“What’s my job?” Eric murmured, without a hint of his usual outrageous behavior that normally came out in these types of situations.

“As another civilian, your job is to get out of the way and not get shot,” Sam informed him. “I meant it, Beale.”

“That hurts.”

“Fine, then you can be the distraction,” Callen said with a roll of his eyes.

“Enough!” Matteo shouted suddenly, firing a shot into the ceiling, causing a shower of plaster to rain down on them, and silenced further argument.

Sam gave Eric a sharp nod, and Eric stood suddenly so his chair slid back noisily.

“Oh, I don’t feel so great,” he forced between his teeth, face a picture of agony as he clutched at his stomach.

***

A/N: I’m trying to find the right balance of humor and light danger. I’m not sure if I managed that.

As always, my translations are from Google translate, so I know they’re not the best. If anyone would like to make them more authentic, I’d happily change it once I crosspost.

Translations

Get over here and sit down.

You can’t fool me. We know you’re federal agents. I saw you arrest a friend years ago and I will never forget your faces.

No gun, no badges. You can check for yourself.

Of course you are. Why should we believe you? You lie for a living. You two arrested a friend of mine years ago and I’ll never forget your faces.

No, don’t hurt them.

Margarita, get back in the kitchen. This is not your business.

Or what, you’ll kill me too?

And you’re stupid.

[queensharotto]

Honeymoon Vol. 4 Translation

Listen to the audio here!

Ryou Kashiwagi (柏木 稜, Kashiwagi Ryou)

Voiced by: Koji Yusa

Age: Early 30s

Job: Company President

Country: Hong Kong

For the translation, view below. Note that it isn’t 100% accurate.

🌃 Track 1: The Prologue

It’s been almost three years since we started dating, and I still remember when we first met.

When you were still a new employee, you started talking to me in the company halls, not knowing that I was the president.

The button on my suit was coming off so I asked you to fix it, and you reattached the button.

I was so attracted by your kindness that I decided to ask you out on a date, all while hiding my identity as the company president.

*chuckles* I didn’t want you to look at me with a title, so I kept quiet.

After several days, I confessed to you.

You accepted my confession, and that was when I finally confessed to you about being the president.

A lot has happened in the three years since then.

Due to my position, I’ve kept our relationship a secret, but now I thought it would be time to make it public.

No, I’m not going to be announcing that we’re dating.

Marry me, I stopped by today to propose to you.

An engagement ring I made for you. Will you continue to support me from now on?

I thank you for accepting.

Let’s be happy together. That’s right! I have something to show you, follow me!

This is the hotel reception hall, the facilities and staff here are top notch, and there’s no perfect wedding, so how about it?

Then let’s have our wedding here. I look forward to seeing you in your wedding dress.

🌃 Track 2: Honeymoon Consultation

I’m back. The meeting was long and so I was late.

Were you lonely? *kiss*

Hmm? Television? Is this a weekly travel show or a show you like?

A trip to Hong Kong and Macau? It’s a place I would love to visit once.

I often go to America and Europe for business, but I don’t have many opportunities to go to Asia.

Have you ever been there? So you haven’t… Let’s go on honeymoon.

The place will be a little closer, but let’s make it a later trip instead.

Leave the plans to me, I’ll think of a lot of events that will please you.

The problem is that it’s a serious area, I’ll be busy with work after the wedding, but maybe next month I’ll be able to take some time off, before the wedding, okay?

Alright! I’ll make it a honeymoon you’ll never forget, so look forward to it!

🌃 Track 3: Hong Kong

Well, we’re at the hotel, let’s get out of the car.

I’m glad you liked the limousine, but you don’t have to be disappointed, because I’m planning on using the limousine for the rest of our trip.

Let’s get off and check in at hotel already.

I booked this hotel in Hong Kong, I promised that we would have a gorgeous trip, so I booked one of the finest hotels in Hong Kong, and of course our room is a suite.

*laughs* I’m glad you like it so much! Come, let’s hurry to our room.

This is the room we’ll be staying in, it’s spacious, has a beautiful view of the night sky and the mood is prefect.

Hey, hey! You’re like a child when you talk like that.

Hmm? Would you like me to express it with your demeanor and not your words? So, that’s what it means?

*kiss* Today, I want you to listen to everything I say. *more kissing*

Your face after kissing is so adorable. If you show me that, I’ll want to tease you.

*laughs* Even though I blew my breath into your ear, you let that voice out. If your ears are good, why don’t you blame them more?

Good response.

Now it’s time for the real thing, I’ll take my time and love you so much, so be prepared. *kissing*

🌃 Track 4: Ocean Park and Chinese Food

This is Ocean Park. Home to an amusement park, a zoo and an aquarium, it’s Hong Kong’s famous leisure spot, I don’t usually come to facilities for children like this, but today I have a big child with me.

*laughs* It’s childish to give in right away like that. Rather than that, look, there’s your favorite panda.

Hey! Don’t fall over kid!

He’s happily eating grass, he’s a cute guy. Oh, the panda seems to be looking at you.

I think he thought we were friends, and you’re just as cute as a panda.

There, there. I enjoyed the panda, next is the aquarium.

Let’s return home for the day and enjoy the ocean park to it’s fullest.

I didn’t expect you to be so excited. Well, I had fun too, since I had never been to an amusement park since I was a kid.

It’s almost time for dinner, so I’ve made a reservation at a famous restaurant where I want to have Chinese food, and I’ve booked it and I’m expecting it because it looks very delicious.

We’ve arrived at the Chinese restaurant. That’s it. Hey, be careful! Oh go ahead, ladies first.

A reservation for Kashiwagi. Right, a private room. Yes, I don’t want to be disturbed when I’m alone with you, so I’ll keep it in the private room.

What do you want to eat? So, is it okay if I like it? That’s right, Peking duck, braised shark fin, bird’s nest soup and boiled abalone cream. I wonder if it’s like that.

Is this your first time eating this? Come to think of it, we never went out to eat Chinese food together.

There’s a restaurant that I recommend in Japan, so let’s go there together when we return.

Look, it’s the dish you’ve been waiting for, so which one are you going to eat?

*laughs* Shark fin, understood. It looks delicious, look, open wide.

Oh, but I’m not going to feed you.

The shark fin here is as good as the rumors say.

*laughs* Do you want to eat it that much? Then, please try to beg me to give it to you.

Hm? *laughs* Then open your mouth again.

Ah. I can’t get it in with such a small mouth, open wider.

You are honest. All right, it’s a reward. See is it good?

Good, I’m more satisfied with just your smile.

🌃 Track 5: Night Scenery Award in Hong Kong

Today we’re taking a ferry and enjoying a night cruise at Victoria Harbor.

This is the Star Ferry that peaks at the top, and it’s familiar to residents and tourists in Hong Kong.

Oh, it looks like we’re leaving.

If you look at the Hong Kong site, it’s amazing.

I’ve seen many night scenes all over the world, but this is the first time I’ve seen them so beautiful.

As expected, it is said to be a million dollar night view, and it’s Hong Kong.

It’s still to early to be impressed, the main event is about to begin.

It’s already 8 PM. It starts next, so watch it.

This is the Symphony of Light. It’s a light and sound show made possible by the searchlights on top of the skyscrapers. On an important day in Victoria Harbor, I wanted to show you this show, so I took a night cruise.

You really are playful like a child, and I love that innocent side of you. *kiss*

🌃 Track 6: To Macau by Ferry

For now on, we’re taking the ferry to Macau. It’ll arrive in about 50 minutes.

While it saddens me to leave Hong Kong, but more than that, I’m looking forward to going to Macau.

Macau is renowned for its casinos and is said to be the Las Vegas of the East.

If you’re new to casinos, I’ll teach you my rules. Roulette and blackjack are easy to remember, and Macau has a lot of historical architecture, and it’s has much fun as Hong Kong, which is a renowned world tourist destination, or even more.

That’s good, now let’s get on the ferry.

Let’s sit here.

The ferry has canceled? I’m feeling a little sick.

You may not be able to do it, please release me. Thank you, let me lean on your shoulder. It’s gotten better, but it’s still not enough. Could you rub my back?

Your hands are warm and I’m feeling a little better. What else would I like for you to do?

Right, I think it would be easier if your knees could be a pillow, thank you. Your lap feels so good, I feel like I can sleep better than any other pillow.

If I get thirsty, did you mind getting me some water?

I’m sick and can’t get up, so put it in your mouth and let me drink it from there.

Please, my throat is already parched.

*mouth to mouth water drinking*

The water you gave me to drink tasted exceptionally good. Besides, you’re the cutest when you work hard for me.

*laughs* You finally noticed, I was pretending the whole time! Sorry, sorry. Sometimes I just want to spoil you, please forgive me. *kiss*

I won’t deceive you this time, so let me spoil you again.

🌃 Track 7: Macau Tower

This is the best view from Macau Tower.

The apartment building I live in is also a high floor so I’m used to high places, are you okay with high places?

I’m relieved to hear that because I didn’t come to Macau Tower for the purpose of taking in the view.

There are some interesting attractions, just look out the window as they’re on right now.

Look, you can see people jumping off, that’s the best bungee jump in the world! You have to experience it when you come to Macau Tower.

What? Weren’t you okay with high places? Are you that strong?

Then how about a full sky jump instead? You can adjust the fall speed with wires, so you can fall more slowly than bungee jumping.

And if it’s a sky jump, we’ll do it together. If you’re with me, it’ll be a bit more reassuring.

It’s decided! Let’s go to the Sky Jump reception immediately!

When you stand on the jumping platform, the tension is different, it is indeed a tremendous height.

It’s okay, I’m with you. Well then, let’s go! Three, Two, One, Now!

Whoa! It’s amazing! *laughing*

*applause* It’s over! Hey, are you alright? You did your best.

So, how was the Sky Jump?

I mean, I had a lot of fun too. I feel like I can get through anything with you because we stopped together, and here’s a reward for your hard work. *kiss*

🌃 Track 8: Macau Sightseeing & The Casino

This is the central location of Macau, which has been recognized as a World Heritage State in Sendo Square.

Beautiful cobblestone with a beautiful cityscape and pastel colors.

Macau used to be a colony of the Portugal, so there are many buildings like this in Southern Europe.

Since we’ve come all the way here, let’s take a walk around the World Heritage townscape.

At the top of those stairs is the Ruins of St. Paul’s in the west, Macau’s most famous historic building.

Majority of it was destroyed in a fire with the exception of the front. At the time of it’s construction, it’s was the largest Catholic Church in Asia. There’s even a theory that Japanese Christians who were exiled from Japan were involved in its construction.

Wait! If you climb the stairs in such a hurry, you’ll fall and get hurt! Look out!

I did it again. If I hadn’t saved you, you would’ve fallen down the stairs and hurt yourself.

This is what happens when you leave me, so don’t make me worry.

I’ll have to hold you like this and move so that you don’t go anywhere on your own.

No good, tourist spots always hold you like a princess.

*Timeskip to the arrival at the Casino*

Speaking of adult entertainment, let’s play at the hotel casino.

I’ve had some experience with casinos in Las Vegas, so I know the rules.

Well, baccarat seems to be the most popular in Macau casinos, so let’s play baccarat.

Baccarat is about predicting who will win, the best player or the artery banker. The winner is determined by the total number of cards dealt to the player and the banker. Cards with 2 to 9 are their numbers while Ace is the bookmark of the number closest to 10 and F, and if the total score of the cards exceeds two digits, it’s the last digit.

Well, I knew it was like this. It would be difficult to explain it alone. I’ll show you an example, you can watch for the side.

This is the Baccarat Table.

First, bet 500 on the player side. Yes, the player wins. You get 500, the same amount as your initial bet.

Next, yes. Shall we put it all into a draw? The odds are low, but if you win, you’ll get 8 times the bet.

Alright! *applause* This is also my win!

Of course, it’s a secret to winning the game. *laughs*

Agreed, because the goddess of victory was by my side. Where did you go?

It’s been a long time, enough is enough. Let’s go to the next match.

🌃 Track 9: Night of the Sixth Day

If the week flew by, how would our honeymoon have been?

I had fun to, but it’s not over yet.

I’ll make a lasting memory for our final night.

*passionate kisses*

Do you like being kissed on different parts of your body?

Then I’ll give you more kisses. Right, anywhere but the lips.

*more passionate kissing*

Hmm? On your lips?

If you really want me to do that, just ask me to kiss you on the lips.

If you don’t tell me, then I won’t give you a kiss on the lips.

Hmm? I can’t hear you, talk more clearly.

Good girl, because you said it properly, I’ll give you plenty.

*even more passionate kissing*

Now, what do you want me to do?

If you want me to embrace you, then embrace me.

Hmm? You can’t say?

Your face turned red. What is it, do you really want me to embrace you?

So you finally admitted it, then, as you wish.

I’ll hold you.

🌃 Track 10: The Epilogue Wedding

Thank You for joining us for our wedding reception today.

I’m sure everyone is very surprised that we were getting married, since we didn’t make our relationship public.

But from now on, without hiding anything, the two of us will continue to love and support each other in life.

Actually, I secretly wrote a letter for her today, so please, allow me to read it in front of all of you.

“My love, until I met you, I thought there was nothing more important than work. I believed that if I was successful in my career, I could get eyes, money, anything. But you thought me that the most important thing in this world is to love people. Now, the most important thing to me, is you. Thank You for being my wife, I vow to love you for the rest of my life. From your husband, Ryou Kashiwagi”

*The audience’s applause*

[purplesurveys]

1813

Name something you keep on the nightstand. The knickknack holder my sister gave me for Christmas.

What does a man brag about the most? Manhood, idk.

What's the most you've tipped your waiter or waitress. I remember tipping ₱500 once but I can't remember for what. My 19th birthday I think? when I spent it with friends at Cafe Lidia.

As a child, what frightened you the most? The sign-off TVCs they would play on the free-to-air channels once it was midnight. The songs were always cheery but also came off as creepy to me? Always felt like the end of the world or whatever lol. I refused to have the TV on in the late evening because I never wanted to catch those.

Name a dish you take to a potluck. My go-to is always sushi since they're a guaranteed hit.

What's a popular vacation location? Where I'm from, Hong Kong or Singapore.

Name a complaint people have about their job. A lack of work-life balance.

Name something you put off doing until the weekend. Usually, surveys haha.

What's a common remedy for a cold? I don't really have any. I just wait for it to go away.

How many scoops of ice cream do you put on an ice cream cone? I don't like ice cream in cone since I eat ice cream super slowly, but for that same reason I only prefer up to two scoops.

Name a type of nut. Walnuts.

How long is the typical vacation? A weekend to a week is more than enough. I remember feeling so strange when I went on back-to-back trips to Thailand and Malaysia last year and it lasted more or less 2 weeks because I had never taken that long of a vacation before. I felt so strange that I gave up one whole vacation day to work entirely remotely from Malaysia lol.

Name a popular athlete. Kylian Mbappé.

At what age should you have children? There isn't one right answer to this.

During high school, what was your worst subject? Chemistry :)

Name a famous Jack. Jack Black.

How many speeding tickets does an average motorist receive? I wouldn't have a clue. We don't even take speeding seriously here.

Name a profession a kid wants to be when they grow up. Firefighter.

Name a famous TV detective. Sherlock Holmes.

At what age did you get your first kiss? I was 16...I think? I can hardly remember.

What month is popular for weddings? Start of the year, like Jan and Feb since it's still cold.

Name something people forget when they're in a hurry. Idk, maybe an accessory? I always find myself forgetting my bucket hat :(

[killerandhealerqueen]

Hi! I'm with Hadcanon again! What about the evil Jian Yuelou? Everyone is alive, Zhan Junbai is good and happy with her husband Yu Tangchun. Bai Jinbo reconciled with his wife and realized that she sincerely loves him. So, at one of the receptions, some official from Hong Kong / or Shanghai / seeing Chen Yuzhi began to show him signs of attention. Yuzhi at first talked sweetly with him, but the interlocutor began to get impudent and tried to hug him in every possible way. Yuzhi politely asked not to do this, but the official did not even think to stop and he was annoyed by the doctor's disobedience. Everyone who saw what was happening tried to stop the insolent man, saying that if Chen Yuzhi's husband saw it, then he was finished. The official didn't believe it and forcefully grabbed Yuzhi's wrist, causing him pain. Zhan Junbai saw this and hurried to Yuzhi's aid. He doesn't like that some scoundrel is bothering his friend and he doesn't want to see his house in the blood of this suicide/he knows the character of his friend, thank you very much/ Yuzhi slapped the official in the face, because this impudent man did not understand the words. When the enraged official wanted to hit the doctor in response, Jian Yuelou, angry as the devil himself, appears. And everyone around is like this: let's remember the idiot, I'll send flowers to his grave, I need to call the morgue. Jian Yuelou did not appreciate that his husband was being molested and ordered him to leave very harshly. The official could not believe that some policeman was ordering him and threatening to fire him. Jian Yuelou only raised an eyebrow. When the insolent man pulls his hands towards Yuzhi again, Yuelou punched him. The official is in shock and calls on others to witness that he was attacked. But everyone just pretended that nothing had happened 😁 Zhan Junbai tells him that if he doesn't disappear, he will provide Jian Yuelou with an alibi if the policeman wants to kill him. The official is furious, but none of the residents of Jingcheng will go against these two. Besides, everyone loves Chen Yuzhi and no one liked the way this scoundrel molested him. The official is promised that he will be provided with problems. But he is furious and does not want to listen and again tries to reach out to Yuzhi. Zhan Junbai at this moment just🤦Jian Yuelou grabs his hand and almost breaking it, drags him to the exit. Yuzhi wants to stop Yuelou, but Junbai won't let him. If a living official in his city is trying to cause trouble for Jian Yuelou, but his boss, when he found out what happened, just laughed, saying, are you seriously going to fight the Jingchen Demon? The government values Jian Yuelou too much, he is the best in the fight against drugs and they forgive him a lot. And his best friend is the Minister of Finance, who are you going to fight with? And Dr. Chen has treated so many influential people, his patients will give you a nightmare in reality.

I rolled up the whole sheet again😁

*gasps and makes grabby hands* Give it to meeeeeeee

Everyone knew about Jiang Yuelou

Everyone knew about him and his love for his husband, Dr. Chen Yuzhi while also knowing about his disastrous temper if Chen Yuzhi was ever bother, harassed, annoyed, or harmed

So, when they all saw an inspector from Hong Kong get…a little too close to Chen Yuzhi at a banquet…they knew shit was about to go down

Chen Yuzhi, on the other hand, didn’t think too much about the inspector (he had overly affectionate patients every now and then so he was used to it) but when the inspector got a little too…handsy, he would say, that’s when he started to get annoyed

“Sir…kindly do not touch me like that”

The inspector raised an eyebrow

“Why not? I’m just being friendly”

Chen Yuzhi narrowed his eyes

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m married.  And my husband wouldn’t exactly appreciate you touching me like this”

The inspector, however, just laughed and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close

“I’m not scared of your husband…I doubt he’s that terrifying”

“That’s because you don’t know who his husband is”

Both Chen Yuzhi and the inspector turned to see Zhan Junbai slowly walking over to them, Yu Tangchun at his side

The inspector huffed

“And who is his husband?”

Yu Tangchun chuckled

“A demon”

The inspector stared at him in surprise before he barked out a laugh

“Now that’s a funny joke, Boss Yu.  A demon…hilarious”

While he was distracted by Zhan Junbai and Yu Tangchun, Chen Yuzhi tried to slip away and find Jiang Yuelou, but the inspector realized what he was doing and just grabbed his wrist, stopping him

“Now where do you think you’re going, Dr. Chen?”

Chen Yuzhi’s eyes widened, as did Zhan Junbai’s and Yu Tangchun’s, before he growled and slapped the inspector across the face, startling him as Chen Yuzhi yanked his wrist out of his grasp

“Get away from me”

The inspector looked at him with wide eyes before he growled and raised his hand

“You fucking bi—”

Before he could strike, however, his wrist was grabbed with such force that he nearly lost his balance, making him look over his shoulder to see a man dressed like a gangster standing there, his eyes cold

“You dare”

The inspector looked at him before he huffed and wrenched his wrist out of his grasp and turned to face him

“And just who are you?”

Jiang Yuelou smiled

“Commissioner Jiang Yuelou of the Jing City Police Department”

His smile then fell as his gaze turned deadly

“And Dr. Chen Yuzhi’s husband”

The inspector just looked at him before he laughed, not understanding the severity of the situation while around them, everyone was whispering to themselves, wondering just what Jiang Yuelou would do because again everyone knew about Jiang Yuelou

They knew about his temper and how short and volatile it was

But they also knew that it was nothing compared to the rage that he exuded whenever his beloved doctor, who was also a beloved doctor of Jing City, was hurt or bothered or harassed

Any fool that dared to slander Chen Yuzhi was honestly a dead man walking because the minute Jiang Yuelou got word, he was like a bloodhound, hunting the poor soul down until he found him

What he did with them, no one in Jing City ever knew…because no one in Jing City, no one in their right mind would go after Chen Yuzhi or say anything bad about him

Because how could you?

Chen Yuzhi was the sweetest, most caring doctor in Jing City

He treated people, criminals and non-criminals alike, with the utmost kindness, he gave money out of his own pocket to charities and to those in need…hell, if Chen Yuzhi could give you the shirt off his back, he fucking would

He was too nice

And although some people tried to take advantage of his kindness, Jiang Yuelou and the city wouldn’t let them

Even now, Jiang Yuelou and the city would not let this bastard get away with bothering Chen Yuzhi

They would not allow it

The inspector then looked at Jiang Yuelou before he smirked and stepped forward, getting in his face

“So what if you’re his husband?  What are you going to do to me?”

Jiang Yuelou shook his head

“You really don’t want to know, so I suggest leaving him alone so you won’t have to find out”

The inspector barked out a laugh

“I think I’ll do whatever I want”

He then turned and grabbed Chen Yuzhi, grabbing him hard enough to make him cry out and that was it

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back because before anyone could do or say anything, Jiang Yuelou swung, punching the inspector straight in the face, sending him to the ground

Everyone stared at him in shock, as it was still shocking every time, but they knew in their heart of hearts that the inspector deserved it

He hurt Chen Yuzhi

He was going to pay the price

The inspector then pushed himself to his feet and looked around, looking for any witness, but everyone had gone back to their own conversation, leaving him completely alone

He then blinked in surprise before he turned and glared at Jiang Yuelou

“How dare you.  Do you know who I am?  I can have you fi—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Zhan Junbai stepped in front of Jiang Yuelou and raised an eyebrow at him

“I think you’ve caused enough problems here already…kindly leave or else I will let Commissioner Jiang have his way with you and trust me, you will probably either end up in a hospital or in a ditch…so if you want to live, leave”

The inspector looked at him before he huffed

“Fine”

He then turned and walked away, but as he walked away, he reached out and grabbed Chen Yuzhi by the wrist, beginning to drag him away, much to the horror of everyone in the banquet because obviously he wanted to die and taking Chen Yuzhi was just asking for Jiang Yuelou to murder him

“Let me go!  Let go! Stop!”

The inspector, however, didn’t listen and continued to drag Chen Yuzhi, causing him to growl low in his throat before he raised his arm and chopped the inspector in the back of the neck, sending him to the ground

As soon as he hit the ground, Chen Yuzhi huffed and took a step back, rubbing his wrist as he glared down at the unconscious inspector

“Unbelievable”

Just then, Jiang Yuelou walked over to him and looked at him in concern

“Yuzhi. Are you alright?”

Chen Yuzhi looked at him and nodded

“I’m fine”

Jiang Yuelou then reached out and took his wrist in his hands, looking at how red it was, before he let out a growl and turned to look at the inspector

“Bastard”

“Yuelou, no.  It’s fine, I took care of it—”

Jiang Yuelou, however, didn’t listen and released his wrist as he walked over to the inspector, reaching down to grab him by the back of his suit before he began to drag him away, Chen Yuzhi staring after him with wide eyes

“Jiang Yuelou!”

He then made to go after him when Zhan Junbai walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder

“Let him go, Dr. Chen.  I’ll make sure he doesn’t kill him”

Chen Yuzhi huffed but didn’t argue, watching as Zhan Junbai followed after Jiang Yuelou, just as Bai Jinbo stepped over to him, a small frown on his face

“Are you alright, Dr. Chen?”

Chen Yuzhi looked over at him and nodded

“I’m fine…I just hope that Jiang Yuelou doesn’t get in trouble for this”

Bai Jinbo shook his head

“He won’t. Besides, that official started it first…he should have known better”

Chen Yuzhi hummed as Bai Jinbo looked at him

“Let me escort you home”

Chen Yuzhi glanced at him before he nodded, both of them heading out while the banquet continued as if nothing had happened

Later that evening, when Jiang Yuelou returned home, Chen Yuzhi ran over to him and looked him up and down

“Are you hurt?”

Jiang Yuelou laughed

“Me? No.  I’m fine”

Chen Yuzhi looked at him before he huffed

“You didn’t have to do that…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Jiang Yuelou cupped his face in his hands, making him look at him

“Yuzhi. He was bothering you.  He was harassing you.  I absolutely had to do what I did.  Nobody gets to treat you like that and thinks they can get away with it”

Chen Yuzhi looked at him before he laughed softly and reached up to gently grasp his wrists

“Are you a gangster or are you a police commissioner?”

Jiang Yuelou smiled

“Maybe I’m both”

He then leaned forward and gently rested his forehead against Chen Yuzhi’s

“But what I do know is that I am your husband.  And that I love you.  And that I will not let anyone harm you”

Chen Yuzhi smiled and gave his wrists a squeeze, humming softly

“I love you too.  My devilish husband”

Jiang Yuelou laughed softly and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before he hummed as well

“I will gladly become a demon for you, my love.  Gladly”

And he would

Jiang Yuelou didn’t mind owning up to the name “The Demon of Jing City” if it meant 1) protecting his husband and 2) protecting his city

He would become a demon for Chen Yuzhi and he pitied the fool that tried to harm his husband in any way…because he would show them hell

[aroundtheworldwithphillyfogg]

December 12th: the Henrietta

The next day was the 12th of December. From seven in the morning of the 12th to a quarter before nine in the evening of the 21st there were nine days, thirteen hours, and forty-five minutes. If Phileas Fogg had left in the “China,” one of the fastest steamers on the Atlantic, he would have reached Liverpool, and then London, within the period agreed upon.

Mr. Fogg left the hotel alone, after giving Passepartout instructions to await his return, and inform Aouda to be ready at an instant’s notice. He proceeded to the banks of the Hudson, and looked about among the vessels moored or anchored in the river, for any that were about to depart. Several had departure signals, and were preparing to put to sea at morning tide; for in this immense and admirable port there is not one day in a hundred that vessels do not set out for every quarter of the globe. But they were mostly sailing vessels, of which, of course, Phileas Fogg could make no use.

He seemed about to give up all hope, when he espied, anchored at the Battery, a cable’s length off at most, a trading vessel, with a screw, well-shaped, whose funnel, puffing a cloud of smoke, indicated that she was getting ready for departure.

Phileas Fogg hailed a boat, got into it, and soon found himself on board the “Henrietta,” iron-hulled, wood-built above. He ascended to the deck, and asked for the captain, who forthwith presented himself. He was a man of fifty, a sort of sea-wolf, with big eyes, a complexion of oxidised copper, red hair and thick neck, and a growling voice.

“The captain?” asked Mr. Fogg.

“I am the captain.”

“I am Phileas Fogg, of London.”

“And I am Andrew Speedy, of Cardiff.”

“You are going to put to sea?”

“In an hour.”

“You are bound for—”

“Bordeaux.”

“And your cargo?”

“No freight. Going in ballast.”

“Have you any passengers?”

“No passengers. Never have passengers. Too much in the way.”

“Is your vessel a swift one?”

“Between eleven and twelve knots. The “Henrietta,” well known.”

“Will you carry me and three other persons to Liverpool?”

“To Liverpool? Why not to China?”

“I said Liverpool.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No. I am setting out for Bordeaux, and shall go to Bordeaux.”

“Money is no object?”

“None.”

The captain spoke in a tone which did not admit of a reply.

“But the owners of the ‘Henrietta’—” resumed Phileas Fogg.

“The owners are myself,” replied the captain. “The vessel belongs to me.”

“I will freight it for you.”

“No.”

“I will buy it of you.”

“No.”

Phileas Fogg did not betray the least disappointment; but the situation was a grave one. It was not at New York as at Hong Kong, nor with the captain of the “Henrietta” as with the captain of the “Tankadere.” Up to this time money had smoothed away every obstacle. Now money failed.

Still, some means must be found to cross the Atlantic on a boat, unless by balloon—which would have been venturesome, besides not being capable of being put in practice. It seemed that Phileas Fogg had an idea, for he said to the captain, “Well, will you carry me to Bordeaux?”

“No, not if you paid me two hundred dollars.”

“I offer you two thousand.”

“Apiece?”

“Apiece.”

“And there are four of you?”

“Four.”

Captain Speedy began to scratch his head. There were eight thousand dollars to gain, without changing his route; for which it was well worth conquering the repugnance he had for all kinds of passengers. Besides, passengers at two thousand dollars are no longer passengers, but valuable merchandise. “I start at nine o’clock,” said Captain Speedy, simply. “Are you and your party ready?”

“We will be on board at nine o’clock,” replied, no less simply, Mr. Fogg.

It was half-past eight. To disembark from the “Henrietta,” jump into a hack, hurry to the St. Nicholas, and return with Aouda, Passepartout, and even the inseparable Fix was the work of a brief time, and was performed by Mr. Fogg with the coolness which never abandoned him. They were on board when the “Henrietta” made ready to weigh anchor.

When Passepartout heard what this last voyage was going to cost, he uttered a prolonged “Oh!” which extended throughout his vocal gamut.

As for Fix, he said to himself that the Bank of England would certainly not come out of this affair well indemnified. When they reached England, even if Mr. Fogg did not throw some handfuls of bank-bills into the sea, more than seven thousand pounds would have been spent!

An hour after, the “Henrietta” passed the lighthouse which marks the entrance of the Hudson, turned the point of Sandy Hook, and put to sea. During the day she skirted Long Island, passed Fire Island, and directed her course rapidly eastward.