#Five Characters in Search of an Exit
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oxfordsxbrogues · 2 months ago
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Most of the TADC fandom: “I don’t like Jax! He’s such an asshole!”
Me, someone who’s favorite character in “Five Characters In Search of an Exit” is The Clown: “I wanna put you under a microscope you fucked little cartoon man...”
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theinternetisaweboflies · 10 months ago
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thebarroomortheboy · 2 years ago
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WILLIAM WINDOM and SUSAN HARRISON in THE TWILIGHT ZONE | 3.14, FIVE CHARACTERS IN SEARCH OF AN EXIT  
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mrpyre · 8 months ago
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Is it me, or does TADC have the same vibe as that one Twilight Zone episode, "Five Characters in Search of an Exit?" Possible inspiration? What do y'all think?
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supermarcey · 1 year ago
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Podcasters Of Horror Episode 26 – Discussing Twilight Zone Episodes 'Twenty Two', 'Five Characters In Search Of An Exit' and 'The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street'
Podcasters Of Horror Episode 26 – Discussing Twilight Zone Episodes 'Twenty Two', 'Five Characters In Search Of An Exit' and 'The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street'
Podcasters Of Horror Episode 26 Discussing Twilight Zone Episodes ‘Twenty Two’, ‘Five Characters In Search Of An Exit’ and ‘The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street’ Download HERE https://supermarcey.files.wordpress.com/2024/01/podcasters-of-horror-episode-26-discussing-twilight-zone-episodes-twenty-two-five-characters-in-search-of-an-exit-and-the-monsters-are-due-on-maple-street.mp3 Welcome to…
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courtleymanor · 2 years ago
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badmovieihave · 1 year ago
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Bad movie I have The Twilight Zone : Christmas Exisodes it has The Night of the Meek 1960 and Five Characters in Search of an Exit 1961
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prestigeformat · 2 years ago
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This is such a bizarre episode of the Twilight Zone
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3.14 Five Characters in Search of an Exit
Director: Lamont Johnson
Director of Photography: George T. Clemens
“I’m a clown. Which is neither here, there, nor anyplace. I could be a certified public accountant, a financier, a left-handed pitcher who throws only curves. What difference does it make?“
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wormthing · 2 years ago
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Nous sommes où ? Nous sommes quoi ? Nous sommes qui ?!
[sends your toys to the twilight zone]
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every time i start a new tv show, i think “wait, i could be watching episodes of the twilight zone instead,” and then i watch a few episodes of the twilight zone
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traumatrios · 8 months ago
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friends, fwb!ART DONALDSON
josie’s notes! this is kind of a character study & lowkey bad but i got out of the theater 4 hours ago and have been obsessing. new era incoming!
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ART DONALDSON was unable to keep his eyes off of you.
They are thirsty to drink in the way your body curves with ease in the bootcut jeans you wear out of Art’s bathroom. He lets his gaze swipe up and down your form, as you twist and turn in search of your straggling belongings. Most importantly, your phone.
“Mornin’,” Art chimed, admiring the curve of your chest in the sculpted tank you sported.
“Good morning,” you returned with an innocent smile, swinging the strap of your backpack on your shoulder. Your hands patted along the front, back and sides of your thighs, coming up empty handed.
Art’s eyes located your phone atop his dresser, spinning over in his desk chair to reach and retrieve it. Weight slid off of your shoulders in the form of a relieved sigh.
The corners of Art’s eyes crinkled in a friendly smile as he held it out for you to take. His arms– most notably his biceps –and the bruised marks that stretched across the skin. You could still see the fresh indents your newly manicured nails left earlier in the morning.
“Here, princess.”
There it was again. That Donaldson smile that has all the ladies swooning. You were a victim of the assault. It took every nerve in your body to speak with how your knees grew wobbly and your thighs began to grow sore.
“Thanks, friend,” you uttered, lifting your fingers to grab the phone. Art pulled his hand away from you, clicking his tongue.
“Ah-ah,” his smile turned into a smirk as he teased you. You were supposed to leave for class five minutes ago, but with his hand ‘accidentally’ prodding at your ass this morning and how he seems to be playing a game now, you began to ponder the possibility of never being able to leave. Your knee was already pressing next to his in his chair, any further and you weren’t ever getting up.
“C’mon, gotta leave,” you attempted to grab the phone again, only for him to pull it further away from you. The tips of your ears began to burn with your growing frustration.
Art raised his eyebrows in suggestion, and you knew exactly what it meant. Tilting your head at the gesture, he rebounded with a different motive.
“Kiss first?” he asked, an attempt at batting his eyelashes following. “Please?” he added.
You roll your eyes at him. You liked how playful he was, you did, but leaving his dorm the morning after another needy fuck was starting to get tiring. What was the next step?
This wasn’t the heavy subject you needed to focus on right now, instead you needed to start thinking about what you’d do if you failed this mornings’ calculus exam.
Before your feet could get moving, your lips were already obliging his request. Art’s hand cupped the back of your scalp to deepen what was meant to be a parting kiss, turning the soft peck into a loving kiss.
With the way his teeth didn’t try to clash with yours, you wondered if this was how he fed the fantasies in his head. It was obvious, Art wanted more than a fuck-buddy, but his passion was way ahead of his heart when it came to pretty girls like you. He always dove in head first, never thinking of the commitment— or lack thereof —when it came to this type of relationship.
You didn’t know what you wanted. It was hard to tell in college; you didn’t even fully know what you wanted to do with your life, how were you supposed to know anything else?
So you’d continue your late-night ventures to his dorm building and totally-not-lunch-dates whenever he had a gap in his weekend tennis schedule and you weren’t swamped with homework. You’d settle with quickies in closets and longing stares if it meant you had a warm body next to you that made you feel wanted.
After what felt like too long, you were the one to break the kiss. Art’s mouth was tinted with a frown to see you snatch your cell phone from his palm and begin to exit his dorm.
“Bye, friend!” You called.
“Bye, friend.”
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divider by @benkeibear !
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deadlydelicious · 5 months ago
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So this season was 6 episodes to the normal 10 episode count, which means the runtime was reduced by 4 episodes, and from my viewing we missed out on the following storylines/ plot resolutions
Here be spoilers
Luther searching for Sloane
An ACTUAL EXIT FOR RAY
Allison and Viktor actually making ammends with each other
A flashback to Reginald's original planet covering the creation of the particles and how their world ended
SOME FUCKING DAVE KATZ?!
just generally any sort of fight scenes. We got like...one
POGO? we got a second of him in a flashback, but just a cameo as the butler in the current Hargreeves house would have been nice
Five also having a realistic existance in this new timeline (everyone else has a realistically shitty life but he's a high ranking CIA member at age like 18?)
They establish Klaus has been sober for 3 years (the time skip being 6 years) and clearly it's alluded to that Claire saw some of his antics when he was still using (her having been to the squat, her advising Allison drop him immediatly) but none of it is actually shown or elaborated on, or even alluded to until he grabs the TV, so it made Claire's change in attitude towards him come out of nowhere?
IS RAY CLAIRE'S DAD IN THIS WORLD OR NOT?! WTF IS UP WITH RAY
A Klaus storyline that...actually related back to the larger plot would have been nice?
Any explination about why Jennifer was IN A FUCKING SQUID?
A reason why Jennifer was infected with the particle in the original timeline. Like...was it a doomsday cult there like it is here, whats up?
Any of the brellies other than Lila and Allison having to deal with new/old family members in this timeline. Lila had a massive family (that is never explained) and Allison had Claire (AND RAY, FOR FIVE FUCKING SECONDS), but none of the other brellies have family members they have to pretend they know? that would have been golden
An exploration into the whole 'now Vik's been through every woman in town' thing. They just dropped that and ran. like...does he have commitment issues? is he emotionally distant? is he too clingy? why have all these women dumped him. Thats a big potential character beat to introduce and then abandon
Like the core of the plot - the two particles mutating into something horrible, Reginald having to shoot Ben in the OG timeline to save the world, the Gene/Jean timeline doomsday cult, them fixing the story by allowing the particles to be consumed and erased- that worked. but NONE of the dressing around about the actual siblings did. Like they literally dump Luther and Diego into the CIA's basement because they couldn't find a use for them, it was so fucking weird.
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bilolli · 9 months ago
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Just Dance Care AU!
Ok ok so I thought of a story for this Au but it’s nothing really impactful or full of drama and angst like my other au’s, I wanted to leave this au easy and fun to play around, because, let’s say it. Just Dance and drama in the same sentence makes me laugh. 
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story and PNG version under the cut!
(I gave up on Y/n design because I couldn't figure out a general look for them. This is you we are talking about! Draw your own JD fit, I'll draw mine soon XD)
Anyway here’s the story so far: 
Year 2029, videogames industry made a huge step forward and classic consoles and devices were substituted by the new and upgraded VR headsets with full body tracking. It’s something like the NerveGear in Sword Art Online without the kill switch. Some games still require you to actually move your body (like fitness games or sports because yeah, they don’t have a purpose otherwise). 
Y/n wanted to buy the newest VR headset but, while searching for the best offer, they found out FazCo entertainment was hosting a giveaway, the prize? One of their prototypes, a VR meant to be released the next year coinciding with the opening of their first mega pizza plex.
(so the plex doesn’t exist right now). You decide to sign up for the giveaway and after a while you receive an email telling you you won the VR headset and that, to claim it, you need to read and sign a series of NDA policies (understandable, it’s a prototype headset that’s not even in commerce). Some clauses are a little bit concerning but nothing you hadn’t read on other electronics booklets, so you decide to sign. After, like, a day, you have the VR in your hands. 
The box let you know with super saturated and colorful writing, that the VR came with a game pre-installed inside. Uh, that’s why they were giving one away, they wanted a free game tester…but you know what, it’s worth it.
You always liked Just Dance games, they make you think about happy memories of your childhood. This pre-installed game called “Five Dances at Freddy’s” is a close copy of your childhood game with original FazCo songs, characters, environments and also some collaborations with other famous artists. It probably will be the cause of a big copyright infringement report.
There are various ways to play it: story mode, Casual dance, Five Dances, and Just Dance Care.
The first one is similar to the casual dance mode but with little cutscenes between a dance and another to tell a tale, Casual dance is how you can play the collab songs, Five Dances is the multiplayer mode and Just Dance Care is a more uhhhh “hard” way to play the game with all the other modes mixed in it. You stare at the description of the last mode smirking and decide to try it first just to see how far you can get before losing (yes you can lose in hard mode in this Just Dance, but you don’t die, you just have to restart from the beginning). Turns out the FazCo wasn’t kidding when they advertised the new headset as a breakthrough in the world of virtual reality headsets, the thing TRANSPORTED you inside the game itself. 
You almost have a heart attack when you can’t find your VR on your head, but before you can try something you are blocked by two tall individuals who you think are the “tutorial” characters. 
Yadda yadda, tutorial, you can pause the game and exit whenever you need just by opening an hidden menu, you find out your tutorial characters are called Sun and Moon and that you are way worse than you remembered at dancing (damn full body tracking, there is no way you are going to do a cartwheel in the middle of a dance, you still don’t know if your body is inside your home and if you’ll physically feel pain if you fall and you don’t want to find out).
You pass an embarrassingly long time trying to win your first dance battle just to discover it was still the tutorial. 
You try to go on with the story but you fail at the first real battle with a bear character named Freddy. 
And guess what? You have to start again from the tutorial! Y/n is gonna spend A LOT of time with Sun and Moon if this goes on.
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storywriter007 · 4 months ago
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You'll Remember Me - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader
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summary: in which y/n suffers the consequences of her and percy's tragic tale
warnings: cursing, heartbreak, character death, betrayal
genre: angst
word count: 869
-> heroes of olympus masterlist
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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)
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as y/n killed the monster, she felt herself get cut on the gut. she fell backwards and placed her hand on her stomach. she stood up shakily, lifting her sword. they were in the middle of a battle, she couldn't die now. she tried to swing, but her attempts were weak. she tried to walk, but her feet dragged. she fell to her knees, clutching her stomach. she looked at the cut that had grazed her abdomen, and realized it wasn't from any blade, it was from a poisonous spike on the monster. she'd been poisoned. she desperately searched the perimeter for someone who could help.
she saw her best friend, swinging rapidly and summoning hurricanes.
"percy!" she yelled.
he looked over, concern washing over his face, but he made no attempt to come her way. annabeth ran up and grabbed his arm.
"percy, this place is falling apart! we need to leave, now!" she yelled.
pieces of the ceiling began to fall as flames erupted. percy stayed in his spot. annabeth said something to him. y/n couldn't figure out what it was, but his gaze softened as he nodded his head. the two of them ran towards the exit. y/n laid on her side as the temperature rose. exhaustion took her over.
he had left her. her best friend, for six years, had left her to die. where was his loyalty now, when she needed it?
but y/n understood he had shown his loyalty. just not to her, to his girlfriend. to annabeth. and now she'd die, because his loyalty was her betrayal.
y/n felt blood spew out of her mouth. she was going out the way she had always wanted to, guns blazing in the middle of a fight that made a difference. it wasn't an unsatisfactory death. suddenly, y/n heard a voice.
"y/n!" the familiar voice called out. "don't give up on me!"
somebody desperately tried to drag her out of the burning building. she felt the concrete graze against her skin as the weak force tried to save her. he pulled her out and laid her in front of the broken building. she was barely alive.
"she doesn't have much time left!" he panicked. "c'mon y/n, just give me five minutes, we're going to get you to the ship and everthing's going to be okay!"
she knew the voice. she knew who it was. it was the boy she'd befriended when he was young. she'd practically been his sister. she knew it was nico di'angelo. he had come back for her. she felt another person kneel down by her. she could she his raven black hair and his sea green eyes.
"what the fuck percy!" nico yelled. "how could you do this! it was just the three of you!"
"i had no choice nico!" he defended.
"liar!" he screamed. "you told me the same thing when my sister died! and, now, now, i'm going to lose the only person who has ever cared about me because of you!"
y/n could tell nico was on the verge of tears.
"please, y/n, don't leave me now." percy pleaded.
"i've loved you a long time, percy. ever since you and i went on our first quest when we were eleven." she said, using her remaining energy to give a confession she should've given a long time ago. "it broke me to see you with annabeth. it still does."
"y/n.."
"you'll live a long time, percy. years without me." she continued. "you'll find camp half-blood strangely void, because when you come to find me, i won't be there."
he looked at her with tears in his sea green eyes. oh, those beautiful eyes.
"you'll remember me. when you see the stars, when you look at our photos, when you see friendship bracelets, when you talk to your mother and she'll ask, 'why don't we go visit y/n? she's only a block away.' always, your heart will be yearning for me." she paused. "and your mind will give you the unconvincing comfort that you had no choice." she spat, bitterly.
he kneeled besides her, speechless.
"nico." she said, lifting her hand up to hold his. she felt weak. "i'm sorry you have to see me like this."
tears fell from his eyes.
"but, i want you to know that i believe in you. i have faith in you. i always have, and i always will." she paused, knowing these were her last words. "you are a hero."
she felt her eyes shut.
"y/n!" nico shook her. "y/n!"
she didn't awake, she felt herself drifting.
"you destroy everything that matters to me!" nico screamed at percy. "you're a fucking monster!"
she felt at peace. she felt as if she was above the cruel world of unfair gods and tortured children.
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percy sat next to annabeth in his home. the war was over. the demi-gods had won. but at what cost?
"percy." sally called.
"yeah?" he responded.
"why don't we go visit y/n? she's only a block away." sally asked, placing cookies in a box for the first real friend her son had ever made.
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hope you guys liked it :) just had to remind you guys that i am an angst writer
yes i did reference dangerously yours
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enhypencores · 7 months ago
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Bleed Me Dry
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Lee Heeseung X Y/N
Genre: Yandere Romance/ Thriller/ Stalker
Prompt: "If I carve you into my blood, will you believe my love?"
Word Count: 7K+
WARNING⚠️: Explicit content, profanity, sexual harassment, heated make outs, female stereotyping, use of a derogatory word, violence, lots of blood, aggression, toxic masculinity, yandre, manipulation, mentions of self exit, unhealthy relationships and mental health issues. Y/N described with long hair and brown eyes.
Cameos: Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Yeji, Karina, Jaemin and Jisung
A/N: Please read the warnings carefully before proceeding. There's heavy discussions and complex character dynamics. None of it is healthy. This is a work of fiction, please read it as such. If I missed out any, lemme know.
Heeseung watched you, mentally tracing the curve of your bottom lip as you awaited the bus, your nose scrunching in disgust at the passing smokers. The fullness of your cheeks flushed red as the scorching heat streamed through your hand’s barrier, and the silky strands of brown hair cascaded down your neck as you climbed up the bus. Your forehead wrinkled as you leaned down to scan your card, and your nimble steps took you to the end row. Sweat drops trickled down the bony line of your collarbone, dipping into your white collar, dampening the fabric as your eyes rolled back and your head fell slack against the teetering glass window.
This was his sign.
He strutted through the door and beelined towards the back. He was so close to settling down, just another step, and he'd be enveloped in your presence when all his plans fell through the window. He halted, his eyes widening in disbelief as a boy settled beside you, unaware of the fury he had just unleashed within Heeseung's blood. Heeseung swallowed the colourful words itching up his throat and forced himself into the seat behind, away from you.
He stared at the gap between your shoulders, bitterness pooling in his chest. Each time the boy's arm brushed against yours, Heeseung's restraint wavered, his nails digging into his palm as he envisioned tearing the boy's joint off for daring to feel you. His temper flared when he spotted your oblivious frame, still, sound asleep like a princess in the comfort of her sheets. You were so perplexingly naive, falling asleep in a bus full of men waiting to pounce on meek girls like yourself. It usually took around forty-five minutes for you to reach home, but you could've at least placed your bag on the vacant seat so no one—except him—would take the spot beside you.
Heeseung trained his gaze on his wristwatch, every tick of the short hand's movement making him lose his mind. He could've been the one pressed against your shoulders, bathing in your essence, had that loser found another spot. Fortunately, he didn't have to dwell in misery for long because at the very next stop, the loser grabbed his bag from the floor, preparing to leave. Heeseung analysed his watch.
Ten minutes. Gone.
Ten minutes he could've spent right beside you.
The boy stood alert, pressing the button, and the bus came to a standstill. As he stepped through the aisle, his foot landed against a round object, throwing him off balance and sending him tumbling to the ground with his jawline scraping against the hard floor. The entire bus gasped in unison as the boy sat up, his frantic gaze searching for the perpetrator.
A round basketball swirled by his feet.
"Shit, that slipped. My bad," Heeseung muttered, standing from his seat and holding out his hand with an apologetic smile, which the unsuspecting boy accepted with an embarrassed grin.
Heeseung watched the boy rub at his injured chin, confused at the ball's magical appearance as he tugged on his bag's strap and stammered out of the bus with an obvious limp.
Hopefully, that injury lasted ten days to account for the ten precious minutes of Heeseung's life.
Immediately, Heeseung turned back, glancing at your limp frame. His heart raced at the sight. He took small, calculated steps before gently lowering himself into the seat beside you. At the first brush of your elbow, Heeseung's body grew warm, heart drumming faster within his chest. He itched to press his entire body against yours. For now, however, he slightly edged closer, letting your clothed shoulder graze his arm, his eyes rolling shut at the subtle contact.
For the past month, he was a silent observer, watching you walk from your university to the bus, bus to your house in a disciplined schedule. It became part of his very routine. He would wait around your campus at 3:00 sharp to follow you onto the bus and spend the next blissful forty-five minutes watching you sleep away. Heeseung would climb off at your stop, ensuring you crossed the road safely. Only when your back disappeared into the villa and yellow lights at the right-end corner flickered to life would Heeseung return to get a bus back.
He was watching over you to keep you safe. The world lurked with dangers, and you were so innocent, so beautiful, so mesmerizing, so agonizingly weak like a frail flower in a garden full of cacti. He had no option but to take on the role of a silent guardian, protecting you from the world. He told himself he valued your safety. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. He needed to be near you, to feel your presence, to submerge within your life and become a part woven for your pleasure.
Usually, he stayed a safe distance away to admire your presence. A week ago, he stared at the empty seat with longing. Like an addiction, his tolerance had grown. Seeing you from afar wasn't enough. He wanted to feel your presence. His body automatically followed his yearning, getting up and climbing into the seat beside yours.
And since then, he couldn't get enough.
All of a sudden, Heeseung's focus wavered as the bus came to an abrupt halt. He impulsively brought his arm around your frame, viciously eyeing the driver for his rash turn. As he felt something drop against his shoulder, Heeseung froze. He gulped carefully, turning to inspect you.
His insides twisted in joy. The sight of your sleeping frame leaning against him with your head on his shoulder was enough to make him forget his annoyance at the bus driver. Heeseung shifted closer to let your head rest in the crevice of his neck.
His breath hitched at the contact; your face pressed firmly into his bare neck. Flesh on flesh. His hand clenched into a strained fist, nails digging into his palm, leaving indents as your warm breath nuzzled down his collarbone and spread to his chest. He looked down at your unresponsive frame and realised he had never seen you so up close.
With the closer angle, he noticed washed-out freckles like sand dust trailing down your nose. Your eyelashes were curled black, resting low on your cheeks angelically. Your mouth was cutely pressed into a light pout against his top, your nose squished into his collarbones, making his hairs rise.
Heeseung urged himself to calm down. If you heard the frantic pacing of his heart, you'd wake up before he had the chance to revel in your skin's warmth. He breathed in the scent of fresh vanilla, something inside his abdomen stirring as he realised how you might leave him smelling like yourself, like a protective feline, marking their territory. Heeseung smiled, his body automatically turning towards you, eyes shining in anticipation.
Your body craved him just as badly as he craved you.
Thirty-five minutes passed by in the blink of an eye. He didn't even register the familiar streets treading along the window, his sight and mind filled with images of your pretty face when suddenly your phone beeped, jerking you awake. Heeseung swore under his breath, body recoiling in complaint as you pulled away, grabbing the phone in your jeans pocket and shutting off the alarm. He forced himself to look the other way, his breathing unsteady as he restrained the urge to yank you back.
Roused awake, you quickly stood alert, pressing the button, your knees accidentally bumping into the stranger's legs as you proceeded to step out of the aisle. You turned back to look at the masked man. 
He watched, breath-held, heart thudding.
His wide eyes met yours, and you gave him a suppressed smile before walking off.
Goosebumps. His head felt like jelly, mind straining to grasp at the smile you sent his way—a smile meant for him—not the kind one you give the shopkeeper when he hands you your groceries—not the empathetic one you flash to the older citizens slowly climbing the bus—not the patient one you give to the raucous bikers outside the campus—a soft, sweet, and memorable smile. Only for him.
Heeseung was so dazed that he simply forgot to get off at the stop with you. Instead, he sat rigid, attempting to process the burst of emotions within his chest. He looked down and—thank fuck he did because he might’ve missed it if he was preoccupied in following behind. There, on his grey flannel, an inch lower from his collar, was a wet mark that belonged to you. Not only did you leave him smelling like your vanilla body wash, but you also stained him with your saliva.
His heart thrummed. He pulled his mask down. With his lower region tingling, his hand instinctively grabbed at the collar to pull the wet fabric into his mouth. Head dropping back, his vision blurred, his body tightening at the first taste of your mouth.
He lapped at the spot like a starved man, his legs pressing together to relieve some of the tension in his painfully hard centre. Sweat built up in his clenched fist as he sucked the fabric and rolled his tongue against it, wishing he could feel it directly from your mouth rather than the brittle cotton of his shirt. His desires had climbed up a new ladder; nothing was enough anymore. He needed to lap at the delicate roundness of your lips, suck off your taste from inside, and drown his tongue in its heat.
He needed you, physically, emotionally—unabashed and unhidden.
It was time.
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Extracurriculars were starting to take a toll on your mental health. You were already part of the university’s student advisory council and head of the reading club. With exams looming and Miss Sol’s exhaustive dance training sessions, you were certain you would either fail all your exams or get home on a stretcher. For the past week, you had been getting home around sunset, but today, you finished training earlier. Giddily, you jumped onto the bus, excited to get home and munch on ramen before your older brother got his hands on it.
You sat in your usual backseat and immediately fell asleep.
When your alarm blared, you quickly silenced your phone and got up, pressing the button to alert the bus driver. You glanced to your side, expecting to see the masked man who had unknowingly become your bus ride companion, but his seat was vacant. Confused, you glanced around, but only saw aged faces and school students. 
Strange. You assumed he was a college student like yourself, never skipping a day.
You shrugged, climbed off the bus and made your way across the main road toward your house. As you strutted inside the villa, a blinding object flashed past your vision, clashing against your torso and shoving you to the floor. You looked up furiously.
The culprit, your smug brother with his blonde hair falling against his eyes, kneeled down to grab the basketball. “Weren’t you supposed to get home late?” His accusatory tone made you want to scratch the smirk off his mouth.
“Oh, sorry for colliding into your ball.” You smiled sarcastically, standing up. His sardonic smile widened.
“Don’t do it again, little sis,” he grinned, and your patience flew out the window. You jumped up to grab his hair, but as if anticipating your attack, he dodged, sprinting down the hallway with the ball cocooned in his embrace.
“Sim Jaeyun!” You screeched, chasing him through the lounge and out the backdoor toward the inbuilt basketball court. 
You never hated your short height, but in moments like these, you wished you had inherited your father’s long legs. As you watched him speed up beside the basketball court, you frustratedly changed your route, dashing into the square-shaped arena, running diagonally, hoping the Pythagorean theorem would help you reach Jake faster.
With your gaze trained on your target, you saw Jake dribble the ball ahead as you blindly ran down the court, so blind that you didn’t notice a taller figure standing in your way. You collided into a frame, slamming against a hard chest, sending you both tumbling to the ground. You gasped, eyes bulging out as a pair of brown eyes stared at you, wide with panic.
You muttered a rushed apology, attempting to get up when you noticed his arms were locked around your waist protectively.
“Get off Heeseung, you midget!” Jake yelled, nearing your limp frame. You gave him a scorned glare, sitting up as the man’s arms slowly fell away. You stood up together as Jake dribbled his basketball, an amused grin on his features.
Sourly glaring, you didn’t hesitate to whip Jake with your bag. He groaned, almost flinging the basketball at you when the black-haired man pushed ahead immediately, blocking your brother’s aggression.
“She’s a menace. Let me deal with it,” Jake bitterly told the stranger.
“Shut up, Jake! You’re the menace in this household,” you huffed, glaring at him.
Then, your gaze settled back on the brown-eyed man, and your cheeks flushed red as you surveyed the stranger’s features. Ethereal. Big eyes as naïve as a deer’s, a peculiarly sharp nose, plump, wet lips, and dark ebony hair—the man was majestic. Dressed in a grey tank top and trousers, sweat clung to his tan skin, dripping down his well-built biceps like honey. He seemed to have walked straight out of a sports tournament.
“Who’s this?” You blurted out, eyeing the handsome man with flushed cheeks.
“Heeseung, a friend. Heeseung, this is Y/N, unfortunately, related to me.” You smacked your bag into his stomach, pushing him back as he doubled over and clutched his torso, glaring at you through his gold bangs. 
“That’s no way to treat your younger sister, Jake,” Heeseung's stern voice oozed masculine charm—almost giving you whiplash. His reprimanding made your brother’s temper dissolve, and he unclenched his jaw, nodding obediently. You stared, baffled at the sudden shift in his demeanour.
You had never seen your older brother submissively agree with anyone—not even your parents. Having a one-year age gap, the older child's privilege, and spoiled treatment from your parents really did a number on him. His friend group consisted of boys who worked like dogs to gain his acceptance, and your brother bathed in the glory. He wasn’t overtly arrogant, but good grades and amazing basketball performances would make anyone feel like they owned the world. Not to mention, his faked kind personality had everyone running laps. You can’t even count how many hearts he’d broken from middle school to university. 
Watching him listen to Heeseung, you could tell he was someone important to your brother.
You glanced back at the towering man. He even carried himself with an air of indifference, intimidating yet undeniably attractive, commanding everyone’s interest. Under the sunlight, his pupils glowed like lit candles, growing small into a crescent shape as a warm smile grazed his lips, his gaze softening. Tousled strands fell into his dreamy eyes as he nodded. Baffled, you wondered how one second, he seemed like an intimidating adult, reprimanding the kids, and the other moment, he appeared boyish and charming, his eyes brimming with youthful energy. 
“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue like butter, making your insides curl.
The night you met him, you stalked your brother’s account to find that intriguing man. You scoured through hundreds of Jake’s irrelevant followers, desperately searching for an account starting with the letter H. To your disappointment, no such account existed.
You wondered if Heeseung was old school and went down a rabbit hole, searching through the depths of Facebook. Lee Heeseung—his name in itself was traditional and old, so you didn’t even come across any likely accounts. You gave up and tried asking Jake; however, your brother rarely answered any of your questions. You had no choice but to wait for another encounter. 
—.—.—.—.—.—.—
Like a surprising miracle, the next encounter came earlier than expected. A week later, you were buried in exam questions, struggling to absorb the entire pharmacology textbook, when the doorbell rang. You tried to ignore it, but after several insistent rings, you begrudgingly stomped to the door. You weren’t expecting anyone; your parents were at a dinner party, and Jake was at a cram class. You mentally prepared yourself to scream at the neighbour’s kids who frequently stood outside your door to mess around. 
You flung the door open, ready to unleash your frustrations, when your jaw dropped. The familiar round eyes met yours, kickstarting a joyous flutter of butterflies in your stomach. Heeseung stood as handsome as the first day, wearing a black hoodie and jeans. He carried a bunch of hefty books, his gaze searching behind you.
“Y/N,” he called your name, and your ears reddened. He enunciated each syllable as if he knew you for ages, called you it for ages.
“Jaeyun left some astrophysics books at my place.” He peered at the stack in his hold.
You smiled apologetically because, of course, your forgetful brother did. 
“He’s out right now,” you told him. “But that’s alright, I’ll take these.” His smile softened as he held out the books. You stepped closer, circling your arm around the stack, but your weak arms failed to carry the weight, embarrassingly almost dropping them to the floor. 
Heeseung quickly tightened his hold on the books, pulling back with a teasing smile. “I’ll take them in,” he stated. Before you could reject his kindness, he stepped inside, pausing in the hallway.
You led him to the lounge, where he kept the books on the wooden table. You offered him a smile as your heart beat frantically. Watching him stand close in your vicinity when you were home alone felt like all your prayers had been answered.
He turned to look at you, pulling back the strands that had fallen against his vision. A smile stretched his lips. “You were studying?” He asked, his voice low yet echoing in the empty hall. Your lips parted, eyes wide in shock.
“How’d you know?” You questioned incredulously.
His smile morphed into a grin. Wordlessly, he reached out and gently pulled the pencil from your hair. The hair bun unravelled, brown strands running down your neck, grazing his fingertips as something flickered in his gaze. He watched the soft layers frame your face. You giggled, face warming up. You tried to grab the pencil, but Heeseung pulled it away, smirking at your embarrassment.
“Let me guess, pharmacology is kicking your ass?” He scoffed, and you gasped in retaliation.
“Now, how do you know my degree?” You stared in confusion.
He chuckled. “Your brother says it’s your worst decision.”
Fucking Sim Jaeyun. Always ruining your reputation everywhere with his big ass mouth.
You sighed, rolling your eyes in frustration. You somewhat disliked your crush knowing about your crisis with that god-awful degree.
“I’m doing fine,” you bitterly claimed. “I ace Biochem and almost every other module. Anatomy is just from the depths of hell,” you spewed some irrelevant achievements, immediately cringing at how self-indulgent you sounded.
God, you were pathetic. You wondered if Heeseung saw through your façade.
Heeseung shifted his weight onto his right leg. “I can help,” he offered, a flamboyant grin flashing across his features as he nodded at your shocked expression. “I ace Anatomy all the time,” he mocked your tone, lips twisting in a teasing smile.
You huffed. Guys usually scored seventy per cent and flaunted it like they won a Nobel prize. “What’s your highest test score?” Your overconfident-self asked, folding your arms over your chest with an egoistic smile.
He watched silently for a moment before returning that sharp smile.
“3.9.”
Pfft. You rolled your eyes, grabbing at your hair in frustration. Was Heeseung as annoying as Jake? “Real funny,” you scoffed, wishing you could erase the smugness off his handsome face.
“3.9 GPA in premed.”
Oh.
Your overconfidence deflated like a balloon. Heeseung smirked and stepped closer, arms folded over his lean chest, mocking your demeanour.
“So?”
You nervously gulped, stepping back from his overwhelming presence. This tall, gorgeous man had casually revealed his Einstein-level intelligence, and now, you felt utterly stupid, crying over some basic anatomy. Even Jake struggled to maintain a decent 3.5.
Your eyes widened as you registered the situation again. Heeseung was offering his help. Even if he thought you were stupid, you could change that, prove him wrong and possibly gather more information about him through a tutoring session, for example, unearth his socials. You could probably get closer and know more.
With your decision made, you nodded at him.
“Alright.”
Heeseung felt like he’d plummet to the floor in relief. He watched the curiosity in your doe eyes gleam as you determinedly stepped towards the hallway, walking up the stairs. He took the first step, his knees trembling as he watched you peppily jump to the right-end door. You were showing him the way to your bedroom.
Your bedroom.
Heeseung’s body fired up like an overheated kettle, his muscles tensing against the railing. You pushed the door open and stepped inside, turning to wait for him. How naïve. How fucking naïve. You had opened up your home, welcomed him inside, and now you were leading him into your personal space, the small corner in this massive house that belonged solely to you, the corner he was used to seeing from outside the house. 
Were you that stupid?
He had seen your parents leave in glamorous attire with a bouquet of flowers, indicating they'd be gone for a substantial time. Jake wasn’t home, attending cram school from 6:00 to 8:00 pm. That left you… vulnerable and alone.
Despite his resolve to wait a good two weeks before visiting again, Heeseung’s patience had worn thin. That initial meeting, feeling your soft curves press into his chest as you toppled over him, had ignited a craving in him. Your scent mingled with his, your body fitting perfectly against him—it had all transcended his tolerance. He had felt his internal organs shift with momentary bliss, his body reacting as if you were made to be felt by him.
Now he was here, in your house, in your presence.
He knew the moment he stepped into your room, he couldn’t leave until he made you his, in some way, in any way. Anticipation bubbled in his veins as he rushed up the stairs.
“Heeseung?”
He froze, his body whipping around to face the intruder. His gaze turned to steel, jaw tightening at the sight of a confused Jake standing in the doorway.
Sim—Fucking—Jaeyun, the brother who wasn’t supposed to be home for at least another hour.
“Jake?” you inquired, stepping back out and shutting your door. Heeseung’s fists clenched as he stared at the closed door, frustration churning in his stomach. So close. He had been just a step away from entering your room.
Beneath that door lay the key to your heart. Access to your room meant understanding your interests, habits, likes, and dislikes, transforming himself into the man you dreamed of. Jake was a limited source. How much does a brother really talk about his sister?
“What’re you doing here?” Jake questioned as Heeseung and you descended the stairs.
“He was here to drop off the books you read as a useless hobby, so I asked for help with Anatomy,” you explained, smiling at Heeseung, who now seemed oddly stern.
Jake snickered, pulling off his baseball cap to let blonde locks fall into his eyes. “You’re pestering my friend for anatomy?” He chuckled as you rolled your eyes.
“No, I offered,” Heeseung replied, his tone sharp and cutting through. You turned your head in confusion at his sudden change in demeanour. “Don’t you stay for an extra lesson?” Heeseung raised his brow, seemingly well-versed in Jake’s schedule.
“Yeah, but they let us out early since we’ve covered the semester,” Jake responded, indifferent to Heeseung’s tone, as he tossed his bag onto the floor.
“Up for a round of LOL?” Jake rubbed his palms together in excitement.
Heeseung’s cold gaze changed with a hint of amusement as he nodded. He turned to you, his smile languid. “Sorry Y/N, League of Legends will always be my first choice,” he declared.
“It’s cool, I’ll survive,” you scoffed, jogging back up the stairs and closing your door to resume studying.
Dropping into the armchair, your thoughts drifted to the sudden shift in atmosphere at Jake’s arrival. Jake and Heeseung’s friendship seemed...strange. Your brother followed Heeseung’s lead without question, even overlooking his friend's occasional indifference. Jake, a softie, who would give you the silent treatment for calling him a nerd, yapping about ‘she called me a bad word’ to your mother, seemed unfazed by Heeseung’s intimidating nature.
Shaking your head, you forced your attention back to your studies, determined to focus despite the lingering curiosity.
—.—.—.—.—.—.—
Another round. 
Another one.
One more.
Heeseung was losing patience, hectically pressing buttons on the Nintendo Switch, his fingers straining to match his brain’s pace. With a hazy vision, Heeseung turned to inspect Jake. Finally, the blonde had lost his will to play, dropping to the couch as snores wracked his frame. It had taken five gruelling hours of continuous rounds, but it would all be worth it.
The opportunity had presented itself, Heeseung internally reasoned. He didn’t sneak into your house or anything— he had greeted your parents when they returned and even ate some snacks your mother had lovingly offered. He was not an intruder. He was a guest, and now the guest was wandering in search of a bathroom. He knew Jake’s bathroom was down the hall, but he purposely overlooked that route, opting instead to tread up the staircase. With every step, rugged creaks whispered in the darkness, but Jake’s tumultuous snores helped mask his motives. 
Soon, he was standing before your door. And this time, he was unstoppable because no one would bother you at 3 AM.
Breath held, lips pressed in silent tension, he pulled at the handle and slipped inside. A thicker blanket of darkness clouded his vision. Freezing against the door, Heeseung blinked rapidly, determined to accommodate his vision. Streaks of streetlight treaded inside from the edge of the curtain, letting him finally see his surroundings, and he turned to inspect the room.
A study desk toppled with bulks of books and papers with sharpies and pens laid at the edge. Heeseung quietly stepped towards it, his finger grazing the neat text, written with keen attention. His chest tingled when he imagined you pepped up on the swivelling chair, jotting down intricate notes with such pretty handwriting. By the look of it, he could tell you were at the top of your studies, a beauty with brains.
Heeseung noticed your phone charging on the edge of the table and quickly grabbed a hold of it. He didn’t know enough to unlock your phone, but he could easily download his new software without a fuss. Heeseung pulled out his phone, automatically airdropping the relevant file to yours. The new software wasn’t an ordinary tracking device, but it even synced your live activity. Now onwards, all your texts and calls would go through him. The only drawback? He needed time for the syncing to finalise.
He put your phone down, but his gaze caught the back cover, and he immediately inspected it. You kept a Polaroid inside the cover, a beautiful smile lighting up your features as you stood next to your best friend at what seemed like Disneyland. Heeseung wanted to cherish your smile, but noticing the arm your friend easily draped across your waist, fury seethed beyond his pupils.
Why were people so effortlessly a part of your life? Why did it come so easily to everyone but him? To him, you were so distant like a dream. He had to bide his time, pretend to be patient, and even befriend a narcissist like Jake, just to make you aware of his existence.
Why couldn’t he just have you?
Heeseung turned away, his mood soured, his gaze searching for something to get his mind off the bitterness. The room was… perplexingly simple. Most of your personality was huddled on that desk; the walls were empty with just a cuckoo clock in the centre and a bean bag resting against the wardrobe. Dispiritedly, he allowed himself to gaze at the bed.
A master bed served with your petite frame wrapped like a sushi roll on a platter.
Heeseung’s body grew warm at the sight. You were in dreamland, the sound of slow breathing now clearer to his ears as he crept closer. He stood at the edge of the bed, his gaze running over your frame. To his displeasure, your face was hidden from his prying eyes, strands disorderly shadowing your features, evoking his irritation.
He couldn’t help it. He found himself getting nearer, your scent getting stronger, soft vanilla teasing his nostrils. Placing his knee on the white sheets, he leaned forward and brushed the strands off your face.
Long lashes rested against your tinted cheeks, round parted lips with a hint of drool running past the corner. Heeseung didn’t even notice when he had dropped himself on the sheets’, his torso completely resting beside your sleeping frame. 
Heaven. The sheets were warm and immersed in your scent, giving him the illusion of your embrace. 
His palms itched to touch. His tongue felt heavy with appetite. He had memorised every inch of your beauty to see you behind his eyelids, but his hands still didn’t know your touch.
Heeseung impulsively reached out, his index finger grazing your bottom lip. Instantly, heat spread from his chest down to his centre. His fingers trembled as he traced the rose petals. Your slow breaths coupled with the softness of your lips made his hunger flare up. He trailed the finger down your chin, collecting your drool, and he transferred it to his mouth, impatiently sucking in your taste. 
He couldn’t help the urge to lower himself, stick his tongue out and slide it against your bottom lip.
His toes curled, his eyes falling shut.
Euphoria. 
Suddenly, he felt like a teenager sharing his first kiss. Your saliva was like sugar melting on his tongue, a taste so delectable that his insides curled in starvation. Heeseung wasn’t a fan of desserts, but your flavour humbled him, making him realise what he’d been missing all his life. He preferred the taste of wine and burnt spices, believing his palate was too mature for anything so juvenile. Yet, god—your lips were like the first shot of his high. Suddenly, sweet things became irresistible.
His lower region tingled as his flicks became harsher, his mouth wide open in mindless hunger, his drool messily spilling on your lips. His mind buzzed, body twisting into the sheet in urgency; your taste had rendered him so weak that he was willing to disrupt his entire plan just from the heat of your mouth.
He felt his arousal strain through his trousers as he tried sliding his tongue in the small gleaming gap in your lips when suddenly he felt you stir. He jerked away, breath heaving, lips drenched with spit. Narrow-eyed, he surveyed your features.
Please not yet. Please, baby.
Instead of ruining his plans, you simply tugged the blanket low. He saw your tongue peek out and run over your bottom lip and gulp down his saliva. It was unintentional and child-like, maybe, one of your sleeping habits. But Heeseung’s blood burned at the sight, his mouth drying up, pupils darkening.
His gaze chased lower, and he spotted a silver of skin, peaking through the cover. The blanket was tangled low on your waist, exposing your brunched-up shirt to his hungry eyes. He didn’t even bother fighting his lascivious thoughts, abruptly tugging up your shirt to reveal your stomach. Heeseung crawled down, his lips immediately pressing into the golden skin, trailing restrained kisses up your waistline. His restrain wavered when he was presented with the sight of your tiny belly button. His mouth salivated as he observed the little hole. Instantly his tongue lashed out, dipping into the curve. His body hummed, his vision blurring as his hips involuntarily thrust into the sheets. He wanted to fill—every hole—every crevice that let him invade. If there was a part he couldn’t physically access, he wanted to stab holes and punch his essence in every corner to mark you as his.
Saliva pooled down his jawline, drenching your abdomen as he protruded his needy tongue into your warm button. He flicks become hungrier, needier, his hands scrambling to grope something—anything. With cheeks pressed flat against your damp stomach, he bit down on his lip to silence the groan itching up his throat as he squeezed your waist.
Fuck. You were made to be touched. You were made to be his clay. You were made to mould into his favourite plaything. You were made for him to love.
Inhale.
Heeseung’s gaze darted to your face, his muscles tensing at the sharp inhale.
Fuck—shit—fuck—your eyes were half open.
Survival instincts kicked in, and Heeseung rolled off the bed at lightning speed, slithering beneath it, pressing his lips together to steady his breathing. The bed creaked as you shifted and sat up. He could almost picture it: your heavy-lidded eyes widening in alarm, the image of a flushed Heeseung gazing up at you—poof—gone, like a mystical encounter. You’d wonder if seeing him there was a figment of your imagination. You’d gulp and rub your template, accepting your insanity.
Heeseung envisioned it all—and he was right.
You were going crazy, thinking about Heeseung, your brother’s best friend, doing sickening, revolting, absolutely heavenly things to you. You didn’t recall dreaming of him, but you might be a stage two schizophrenic because you were now hallucinating his presence. Your body was overly indulged in the hallucination, feverish and covered in goosebumps. You kicked off the blanket, noticing your shirt pooled up, your stomach warm, limbs shaking.
Heeseung waited, his heartbeat steadying as you showed no sign of suspicion. Just like he had imagined. Your insecure mind probably convinced you otherwise. Sometimes, even seeing doesn’t translate to believing—especially for someone as pure-hearted as you. You’d rather doubt your own soul than accuse anyone else of foul play. He’d have to teach you to believe in yourself more than this world—he’d force you to grow a thorn in that beautiful heart, so no one could taint it. Except him.
He lay there, flushed—dazed. He laid there for hours until your laborious breaths morphed into sweet lullabies.
As he slid out the bed, he turned towards you, his heart throbbing with adoration.
You were back to being a little sushi roll, covered with a blanket, your hair sticking to your face as you slept like a log. The mere thought of someone else seeing you innocently asleep made his blood boil. He'd gladly crack open their skulls, extract their hippocampi, and flush them down the toilet to erase any trace of you from their minds.
Heeseung stepped closer and gently kissed your head. He inhaled deeply, savouring your scent from your flushed frame. Reluctantly, he stepped back, grabbed his phone and ensured the sync was complete before heading out the door.
He had to speed things up; the wait was becoming unbearable.
Straight away, Heeseung took a cab home. There was a solid hour before his morning lecture, so he immediately threw himself into his bed and analysed the synced files on his phone.
Details from your phone helped him understand you, but he didn’t know everything just yet. He scrolled through your notes. You liked watching dramatic sitcoms about housewives and divorces. Your YouTube was just a diverse cookbook: most watched clips were recipes ranging from brownies to egg soufflé to Arabic hummus. He chuckled as he noticed some dance tutorials. He would love to see you dance one day.
Your social media presence was barely a drop in his research. You had zero posts, and mostly followed celebrities and high school girlfriends. Looking into your teenage years, to Heeseung’s relief, you had been to an all-girls school. He scoured your followers for any guys, but except for some male actors, you didn’t seem to have anyone worth noting.
The syncing only allowed access to a specific set of photos you had downloaded from your PC onto the mobile. There was a total of six pictures— three of those were of the fucking sunset. The rage he felt as he patiently waited for the pictures to download only to be met with an ugly ball of yellow light was unfathomable.
As he scrolled, he found a picture of a younger girl in a white sundress sitting beside a boy who proudly held up a fishing net, occupied with three mackerels, a memory of Jake and your childhood. His heart felt warm as he zoomed into your features. Unknowingly, he was tracing the line of your smile, the shape of your eyes on the screen, a dumb smile playing on his own lips.
He snapped out of it and scrolled ahead. The following picture was a group photo from— high school. You were the centre of attention, your hair up in a ponytail, a vivid smile glossing your features as girls huddled around you. He felt the magnetic pull exuding your frame even from lifeless photos— making him wish he had opted for your area, so he could have found you earlier. He believed whatever time frame he found you, he would have pounced to get you to himself.
Heeseung forcibly clicked off and opened the last photo in the synced album. His smile wiped off, his body sitting alert, his gaze narrowed and fixated on the screen. Your university’s back entrance had a swing where he noticed couples hanging and making out.
In the snapped photo, you were perched on top of the wooden swing, eating an ice lolly with a man behind you, his hands on your shoulders, a shit-eating grin on his face whilst pointing at the camera.
Heeseung’s grip on his phone tightened. From the outskirts, he hadn’t seen that face anywhere near you, but then again, how much could one know as an outsider. 
No.
Jake’s mocking insults about your love life were proof of your singularity.
He hated knowing such little about your world. He hated someone so undeserving and irrelevant could touch you so easily when he had to watch you from the shadows, dwell on small encounters.
He had to find this guy and ensure your protection before he could even think of disclosing his love for you. Whatever this man was, Heeseung had to know more.
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