#I’ve been thinking a lot about him today

[777bae]

PERFECT IMPERFECTIONS LUKE HUGHES

Summary :: You finally open up to Luke about a long-standing insecurity of yours

Warnings :: Insecurities (dark circles)

Word count :: 1.4k

The evening has a quiet, gentle rhythm to it, a calmness that feels almost sacred. The kind of quiet that can only come from being comfortably wrapped in the presence of someone you love, knowing that the world outside can wait for a while. You and Luke are on the couch, the soft light from the lamp beside you casting a warm, golden glow across the room. The glow dances across his face as he scrolls through his phone, the familiar sounds of his movements grounding you in the present. You’ve always loved these quiet moments with him—when nothing else matters but the fact that you’re together.

But tonight, something’s different. The sense of peace you usually feel when you’re near him is heavy, weighed down by an insecurity that’s been gnawing at you all day. You can feel it pressing on your chest, slowly tightening with every passing second, even though you’re trying your best to push it away.

You’ve always had these dark circles. As long as you can remember, they’ve been there. When you were a little girl, you’d stare at your reflection and wonder why your face looked so tired, even when you hadn’t done anything to earn that exhaustion. As you grew older, it became something you learned to live with—something you tried to hide, tried to mask. No matter how much sleep you got, no matter how many “miracle” creams or makeup techniques you tried, those shadows under your eyes were always there. They became a constant companion, something you never quite got used to, but had learned to accept.

And yet tonight, they feel more pronounced than ever. Maybe it’s the exhaustion that’s built up over the last few weeks—too many late nights and early mornings, trying to balance everything, trying to keep it all together. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve been staring at your face in the mirror all day, looking for signs of something different, something better, and all you’ve found is the same tired reflection you’ve always seen. Your eyes look heavy. You look drained. Like you’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it’s written all over your face.

As you sit beside Luke, curled up on the couch, you find yourself unconsciously shrinking away from him, trying to hide the way you feel inside. You pull your knees closer to your chest, folding in on yourself as if to protect the parts of you that are exposed—the parts of you you wish you could change. You try to make yourself small, hoping he won’t notice. But Luke, being Luke, notices everything. He always does.

“Hey,” he says gently, his voice a soft anchor in the quiet of the room. He looks over at you, his gaze immediately softening as he notices your change in posture. “What’s going on? You’ve been quiet.”

You try to offer him a smile, but it’s thin, insincere. It feels like a mask that doesn’t quite fit. You don’t want to burden him with your feelings, don’t want to sound trivial, but the words escape your lips before you can stop them.

“I’m just… I don’t know. I’ve been thinking a lot about my dark circles,” you admit, the words hanging in the air between you, heavier than you’d intended. “I’ve always had them, you know? No matter how much sleep I get, no matter how much I try to fix them, they’re always there. And today, I just… I don’t know. I feel like they’re all anyone would notice when they look at me.”

The vulnerability in your voice surprises even you, and you immediately feel a wave of embarrassment, as though admitting this out loud somehow makes it worse. You brace yourself for the usual reassurance—the empty kind of comfort people often give when they want to make you feel better but don’t truly understand what’s going on inside. You’re so used to hearing it, to hearing people say, “It doesn’t matter to me,” or “You’re beautiful no matter what.” But you’ve always wondered if they mean it. If they can really see you, see the parts of you that feel broken, and still love you just the same.

Luke doesn’t say anything right away. His gaze softens, though, and you can feel his presence shift. It’s almost as if he’s studying you, trying to understand the quiet storm brewing behind your eyes. He moves a little closer, his body turning toward yours. His hand reaches out, fingers brushing over your arm, sending a ripple of warmth through you. But it’s not just the touch. It’s the way he looks at you—as if he’s trying to read every part of you, to reach the parts of you that you don’t even know how to express.

“Let me see you,” he says softly, his voice low but firm with the kind of gentleness you’ve always known him for. He doesn’t push you, doesn’t force you to explain yourself, but his words are a quiet invitation. An invitation to be seen, to be understood. “Look at me, babe.”

You hesitate, unsure if you’re ready to meet his gaze, unsure if you’re ready to let him see all the insecurity swirling inside of you. But when you do, when your eyes finally meet his, something shifts. There’s no judgment there. Only love. Only understanding.

“Those dark circles, the ones you think make you less beautiful? They don’t make you less, anything,” he says, his voice unwavering. “They’ve always been a part of you. And honestly?” He smiles gently, the kind of smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “I’ve always loved them. I think they’re beautiful.”

You blink, your breath catching in your throat as you try to process what he’s just said. “What?” you ask, your voice a mixture of disbelief and surprise. “But they—”

“They’re a part of you,” Luke interrupts, his hands now gently cradling your face, his thumb sweeping softly across your cheek, where those dark circles sit. “They tell a story. A story of you—of everything you do, everything you are. They show your strength, your effort, your heart. They’re not flaws. They’re part of what makes you, you. And I think that’s beautiful.”

His words are simple, but they sink deep. So deep, in fact, that you feel a tear slip down your cheek before you even realize it. You hadn’t even known you were holding it in, but the floodgates open, and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by the wave of emotion rushing through you. You’ve never heard someone speak to you this way before, never felt so seen in your entire life. It’s as if the parts of you that you’ve always hated, the parts of you you’ve always tried to hide, are suddenly being accepted without question, without hesitation.

Luke’s hands move to cup your face more securely, his eyes never leaving yours, and his forehead presses against yours, as if grounding you in his love, in his belief in you.

“I love you. And I don’t just love you despite those dark circles. I love you because of them. They��re a part of your story, and they make you, you. And there is nothing in this world that I would change about you.”

The warmth in his words wraps around you like a blanket, melting away the harsh edges of your insecurities, leaving behind only peace. You close your eyes for a moment, taking in his words, letting them sink in. When you open them again, you feel lighter, freer, like a weight has been lifted from your chest.

Luke leans in, his lips brushing against your forehead in the softest kiss, the kind of kiss that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. You let out a breath, a shaky laugh escaping your lips as you finally feel the truth of his words sink deep into your bones.

And in that moment, with his hands gently cradling your face, his heart open and steady, you realize something profound. The dark circles under your eyes, the tiredness that’s always been with you—they no longer feel like something to hide. They’re not a sign of something broken or wrong. They’re a sign of your resilience, your humanity, your capacity to love and work and care.

And Luke loves them. He loves all of you, dark circles and all. And for the first time, you can finally say that you love them, too.

[thedensworld]

Something Between Us | H.Js

Genre: angst, arranged marriage, exes au!

Summary: An old couple meet again, with the same feeling inside their chest. What's something between them still left?

Author note: i dedicate this story for all of my plot twist lover. Here's for you guys. With love and— of course, so much care🤍

Joshua held his cup of coffee, feeling its warmth seep into his hands as he waited for you to arrive. Nervous? Of course, he was. It had been three long years since the two of you had seen each other. In all that time, there had been no reason or opportunity for your paths to cross. But today, after meticulous planning and endless back-and-forth between your secretaries, the two of you were about to meet again—this time as business partners.

Joshua had always been skeptical about arranged marriages. His parents' marriage had crumbled when he was just ten years old, and his father had remarried only two years later. His mother eventually found the love of her life in her fifties, but not before enduring two failed marriages. Joshua himself had experienced a failed arranged marriage—with you, three years ago. So, when his friends claimed they were happy in their arranged marriages, he couldn’t help but doubt them.

He had once said the same thing during the first year of your marriage.

As you walked toward him, Joshua couldn’t help but notice how much your hair had grown since the last time he saw you. You had always preferred muted tones, but today you wore a baby blue work attire that caught him off guard. Rising from his seat, Joshua offered you a professional handshake before motioning for you to sit across from him. Your secretaries took their seats beside you both, their awkward silence adding to the already tense atmosphere in the room.

Today's meeting was supposed to be strictly business. After your father passed away a few months ago, you had surprised Joshua by sending a proposal to rekindle the business relationship that had been severed when the two of you went your separate ways three years ago. He was genuinely shocked. He never imagined that the Ji family would reach out to him first, especially given that your families had also "divorced" in a sense when you did.

"I’ve gone through the proposal you sent. It’s clear there’s still potential between our companies, but a lot has changed in the past three years.”

You nodded, your expression unreadable. “Yes, quite a lot has changed,” you agreed. “The industry has evolved, and so have our respective companies. That’s precisely why I believe it’s important for us to explore a new collaboration.”

Joshua studied you carefully, his mind racing. Your brother Seungcheol was the rightful successor, the one running the family business now. There was no logical reason for you to involve yourself—especially after being away from the business world since your divorce. Why would you suddenly want to rekindle this partnership? Was this truly about the companies, or was there something more you weren’t saying?

“Your brother,” Joshua began cautiously, “is more than capable of handling the business. I’m curious why you felt the need to personally reach out to me, given that Seungcheol is the one at the helm now.”

You met his gaze, your eyes steady. “Seungcheol is indeed in charge, and he’s doing an excellent job. But there are some things only I can handle, and this partnership is one of them. I know the history, the nuances between our companies. There’s unfinished business here, Joshua. You and I both know that.”

Joshua couldn’t deny the truth in your words, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more beneath the surface. “And you think you can just step back in and pick up where we left off?” he asked, skepticism lacing his tone. “You’ve been out of the industry for three years. A lot has changed—not just in business, but in the way we operate, the strategies we use. Do you really think you can bring the same value you once did?”

A faint smile played on your lips. “I may have been away, but I’ve kept my eyes open. I’m well aware of the changes and the new dynamics at play. But this isn’t just about proving my worth, Joshua. It’s about leveraging the strengths of both our companies for mutual benefit. We have something unique—a history, a shared vision, even if it was derailed for a while.”

Joshua leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you thoughtfully. “And what exactly are you offering? What do you bring to the table that your brother or anyone else in your company can’t?”

You took a deep breath before answering, your voice firm. “What I bring is a perspective that no one else has. I understand the intricacies of both our businesses, and I know what was lost when we parted ways. I also know how to regain that edge. This isn’t just about merging resources or expanding markets. It’s about restoring what was once a strong alliance—something that could be stronger than ever if we approach it the right way.”

Joshua could sense the conviction in your voice, but he also sensed something else—a personal stake that went beyond business. You weren’t just here to broker a deal; there was something deeper driving you, something you weren’t ready to reveal just yet. But for now, he played along, curious to see where this would lead.

*

Seungkwan, Joshua's dedicated secretary, arrived at ten o'clock at night with a box of Joshua's old files from his parents' house, driven by an urgent matter. The contents were from a pivotal time in Joshua's life—the period when his business had merged with his ex-partner's company.

Joshua had been immersed in the business world since his college days, with a particular passion for coffee beans. His grandfather, recognizing his potential, gifted young Joshua a piece of land to cultivate and manage. After years of gaining valuable experience, Joshua made the bold decision to take over his family’s business—a company specializing in the distribution of fresh food sources. His natural talent for business didn’t go unnoticed; your father, who was well-acquainted with Joshua's grandfather, saw a promising match between you and Joshua.

Your family’s legacy in the industry stretches back further than Joshua’s, with a focus on real estate—hotels, buildings, and shopping malls. In fact, Joshua’s grandfather had once worked for your family before establishing his own empire. Over the years, Joshua's family business became a key supplier of fresh food for your family's hotels, creating a longstanding partnership between the two enterprises.

What began as a mere introduction between you and Joshua quickly evolved into a strategic arrangement orchestrated by your father and Joshua's grandfather. They agreed to a marriage between the two of you, believing it would further solidify the bond between the companies.

Fortunately, neither of you had any objections. Joshua found himself deeply attracted to your integrity and kindness, qualities that only strengthened his affection over time. What started as a business arrangement blossomed into a genuine partnership, both in life and in the boardroom.

"Let's get divorced after a few years," you suggested, your voice carefully measured as you spoke after a family meeting just before the wedding.

Joshua raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Let's not talk about divorce when we haven’t even said ‘I do’ yet."

You sighed, trying to find the right words. "That's not what I meant. I just want us to have the freedom to express our thoughts about this... arrangement. I don't want you to regret anything."

Joshua glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road as he drove you home. A gentle smile played on his lips. "You're too kind, Y/N. Too kind for me."

After the wedding day, Joshua’s life was turned upside down—in the best way possible. His heart raced every time he saw you, and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his hands to himself whenever you were near. It didn’t take long for him to realize he was falling deeply in love with you.

As Joshua started to believe that you might feel the same way, he nearly forgot about the contract you both had signed before the wedding—a marriage contract stipulating that you would divorce after five years.

"Two years," you said one evening, your tone serious as you brought up the contract.

Joshua shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. "Five, at least. That’s the right amount of time to have everything settled between our companies before we divorce."

Living with you had been effortless for those years, a seamless partnership that made life feel easy and natural. But one night, after returning from a business trip to Taiwan, Joshua was blindsided when you handed him divorce papers to sign. His heart sank as he stared at you in shock, unable to believe you were bringing up the contract he had thought had long been forgotten.

"We've been fighting a lot," you began, your voice steady but laced with sadness. "And it's always about the same things. We see the world differently, and I don’t think I should live with someone who doesn’t share my vision."

Joshua felt something inside him shatter. He had believed you would understand him, that you were different. But now, he realized you were just like everyone else in his life. Just like his parents who had left him behind.

In that moment, the walls he had built to protect himself from pain crumbled, leaving him feeling more vulnerable than ever. He had fallen in love with you, but now he was faced with the harsh reality that love alone might not be enough to keep you by his side.

"Sorry for taking up your time, Seungkwan, but I really need these papers," Joshua said as he began rifling through the box Seungkwan had brought over.

It had been two weeks since the tense meeting between you and Joshua. Since then, any further communication had been handled strictly by your secretaries, Seungkwan and Chan. The deadline for Joshua to make a decision on your offer was only two days away.

Seungkwan sat down, opening his tablet to check his list of tasks. As he glanced at the screen, a thought crossed his mind. "By the way, do you know who Jina is?" he asked Joshua casually.

Joshua frowned, shaking his head. "Jina who?"

Seungkwan shrugged. "I’m not sure. Chan, Ms. Choi's secretary, mentioned that she had to take care of her child, Jina. I was wondering if she might have remarried already?"

Joshua’s hands froze mid-movement as his heart skipped a beat. Child. The word echoed in his mind, bringing with it a flood of questions. Are you married already? Did you finally have the family you always dreamed of? Are you happy now with the child he couldn’t give you?

He forced himself to respond, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. "Really? I didn't know."

Seungkwan nodded, seemingly unfazed. "Maybe it was a secret marriage. After all, it’s only been three years since her divorce from you," he speculated.

Three years. That was all it took for you to move on, to find someone new. To build the life that he had always wanted with you. Meanwhile, Joshua couldn't even fathom replacing you. The mere thought of it felt impossible, as if no one could ever fill the void you left behind.

*

Joshua met with you once to sign the MoU between your two companies. A month passed, and he began to realize that rekindling the business relationship between your families had been a good idea after all.

One afternoon, Joshua was out for lunch with a client. After their meal, he headed to the restroom and was surprised to find a little girl crying in front of the men’s room. Seeing that no one else was around, he gently picked her up and wiped the tears from her chubby cheeks.

“Mom…” the little girl whimpered, her voice breaking Joshua’s heart. Deciding to help, he started looking for her parents.

As he walked down the hallway, he heard familiar voices arguing. Turning the corner, he saw you scolding a younger woman dressed in what looked like a nanny's uniform.

"How could you lose her?" you snapped, clearly distressed.

Before Joshua could speak, you spotted him, your eyes widening as you quickly approached. "Jina, where have you been?" you called out as you reached for the little girl.

Joshua’s breath caught as your eyes met his. For a brief moment, your steps faltered, but then you took the girl from his arms, your expression softening as you spoke to her.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” you soothed, cradling the little girl you had called Jina.

“Thank you so much,” you said to Joshua, your voice filled with relief. “She just learned to run, and she slipped away from her nanny.”

You handed Jina back to the nanny you had been scolding moments before, and Joshua couldn’t help but stare at the little girl. She had your beautiful eyes, and Joshua couldn’t deny that she was the cutest toddler he had ever seen.

As he watched you comfort Jina, Joshua felt a pang in his chest, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. Seeing you with a child—a child who looked so much like you—brought back memories of the dreams he once had, dreams of a life you could have had together.

Joshua stood there, watching as you cradled Jina in your arms, and memories of your time together flooded back. During your marriage, you had often expressed your deep desire to start a family. You had dreamed of having children, of creating a warm and loving home where you could nurture and protect them. You had spoken to Joshua about it openly, passionately, yearning for a child who would be a symbol of the love you once shared.

But Joshua had been paralyzed by fear. The idea of becoming a father terrified him, more than he could ever admit to you. He had grown up in a house filled with anger and pain, a witness to his father’s cruelty. His father had been abusive, both physically and emotionally, to Joshua and his mother. Joshua had seen firsthand the damage a father could do to his family, how easily love could turn to hate, how trust could be shattered by betrayal. He had watched his father cheat on his mother, breaking her spirit before finally leaving her for someone else.

These memories haunted Joshua. The thought of becoming a father brought back all those fears—the fear of repeating his father’s mistakes, the fear of not being good enough, the fear of hurting those he loved the most. He didn’t want to bring a child into the world only to fail them, to fail you. And so, every time you spoke of starting a family, Joshua found himself pulling away, unable to share your dream. He was too afraid of the past repeating itself, of becoming the very thing he had always despised.

He remembered the arguments that would arise whenever the topic came up, the frustration in your eyes when he hesitated, the sadness in your voice when he couldn’t give you a clear answer. He had loved you, but his fear had been stronger than his love. He had convinced himself that he was protecting you, protecting any potential child from the possibility of being raised by someone who wasn’t capable of being the father they deserved.

But now, as he looked at Jina—this little girl who had your eyes, your gentleness—he couldn’t help but wonder what might have been. Seeing you as a mother, so natural, so caring, made him realize just how much he had deprived both of you by letting his fears control him. The life you had wanted, the family you had dreamed of—it was something he could never have given you because he had been too afraid to try.

Joshua felt a deep, aching regret settle in his chest. He had let you go, thinking it was for the best, thinking it was the only way to protect you from the darkness inside him. But now, he could see how much he had lost in the process. You had moved on, found the family you always wanted, while he remained trapped by the ghosts of his past.

As you walked away with Jina, Joshua realized that he had not only lost you but also the chance to be part of something truly beautiful. And for the first time, he wondered if he could ever forgive himself for letting fear steal away the life he could have had with you.

*

Joshua was interrupted by a notification that there was a call from Seungcheol, your older brother and the soon-to-be president of Choi Corps. He immediately put down his work and picked up the call, his focus sharpening. Seungcheol’s breathy, urgent voice greeted him on the other end, asking if Joshua was in town at the moment.

"Yes, I'm in my office right now," Joshua replied, his concern mounting.

Joshua and Seungcheol had known each other since college, having attended the same business school. They knew each other better than mere acquaintances, but their relationship was complicated by an underlying competitiveness. Both were driven, ambitious, and determined to succeed—traits that had prevented them from becoming close friends. There could only be one star, and Seungcheol had often seemed to take the throne, aided by his privilege and relentless work ethic.

"I need you to get to Seoul University Hospital. Now!" Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, tinged with urgency.

Joshua’s heart skipped a beat, panic setting in. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Y/n?" he asked immediately, his pulse quickening.

"No, it’s not Y/n," Seungcheol answered, his tone tense. "Someone else needs you."

"Who?" Joshua pressed, confusion and worry battling within him.

"Just get here, Joshua. I’m begging you. My sister... she’s not in the right state of mind right now," Seungcheol pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.

Joshua’s mind raced, trying to piece together what could have happened. The urgency in Seungcheol’s voice told him it was serious, and despite their complicated history, he knew he couldn’t ignore the call. Without wasting another second, Joshua grabbed his keys and headed out the door, a sense of dread settling in his chest as he rushed to the hospital.

Joshua arrived at Seoul University Hospital, his heart pounding in his chest. The cold, sterile smell of the hospital hit him as he hurried through the halls, searching for the ICU. His mind raced, trying to make sense of Seungcheol's cryptic call. The worry in Seungcheol's voice had been unmistakable, but Joshua still didn’t fully understand what was happening.

When he finally found the ICU, his eyes immediately landed on Seungcheol, who was standing rigidly with a tense expression. Seungcheol’s eyes locked onto Joshua as soon as he approached, and he stood up straighter, signaling Joshua over.

You were sitting on a bench beside Seungcheol, your head buried in your knees, your body trembling slightly. Chan, your secretary, stood beside you, a hand resting on your shoulder, trying to offer some semblance of comfort.

Joshua felt his stomach twist at the sight of you like this—so vulnerable, so unlike the strong, composed person he knew. His gaze flickered between you and Seungcheol, searching for answers in their expressions.

"Seungcheol, what’s going on?" Joshua asked, his voice laced with concern and confusion.

Seungcheol took a deep breath, his face strained as he struggled to keep his composure. "It’s Jina," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "She collapsed earlier today, and they had to rush her here. The doctors said she needs an immediate white cell transfusion."

Joshua blinked, trying to process the information. "A white cell transfusion? But... why? What happened to her?"

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "Jina has a rare blood disorder. Her white cell count dropped dangerously low, and she’s in critical condition. The doctors are doing everything they can, but they said she needs a specific type of transfusion—one that’s not easy to come by."

Joshua's mind reeled as he tried to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "But why... why did you call me? What does this have to do with me?"

Seungcheol hesitated, glancing at you before answering. "Jina is your daughter, Joshua," he finally said, the words heavy with the weight of the truth. "That’s why we need you. You’re her father."

*

"Get that bastard here!" your father roared, his voice echoing through the house. You winced, hearing the fury in his tone as your mother quietly explained what had happened to you over the past few months since the divorce.

Seungcheol sat across from you, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of disappointment and concern, as if you had committed some unforgivable sin. In a way, you had—you had made a decision that not only affected your life but also threatened to tear apart the relationship between two powerful companies.

He sighed heavily, breaking the tense silence. "He didn’t want the child. Is that why you two got divorced?" His voice was quiet but edged with disbelief.

You nodded slowly, unable to meet his gaze. The truth was hard to swallow, even now.

"Then why did you run away?" Seungcheol asked, his voice softening with confusion and concern.

After six months of hiding in Jeju, Seungcheol had finally found you and dragged you back home. The shock on his face was unmistakable when he discovered you were pregnant. At first, he had assumed that someone had taken advantage of you while you were away after the divorce. But when you tearfully confessed that the baby was Joshua’s, his shock turned to something deeper—betrayal, perhaps, or simply the weight of a truth he hadn’t been prepared to hear.

"Is there anything else you're hiding?" Seungcheol asked, his eyes searching yours.

You shook your head, unable to speak. The shame and guilt were too much to bear.

He leaned back, his expression unreadable. "I won’t tell anyone about this," he finally said, his voice firm but kind. "But one day, he needs to know. You can’t let a child grow up without a father, Y/n."

"He doesn’t want them," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Why can’t you understand that?"

Seungcheol bit his lip, clearly struggling with his emotions. He wanted to protect you, but he also knew the importance of a father’s presence in a child’s life.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and your father stormed in, his face contorted with rage. He marched straight to you, his anger palpable. "Has he ever touched you inappropriately? Has he ever been abusive to you?" he demanded, his voice harsh and filled with protective fury.

"No, Father," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "He never did."

Your father’s face darkened further as he turned to Seungcheol. "Cut ties with him, Seungcheol. How dare he divorce you while you were pregnant with his child," he ordered, his voice seething with anger.

Seungcheol nodded slowly, his eyes flickering between you and your father. The decision had been made. The relationship between the two companies would be severed, and Joshua would be held accountable for abandoning you. But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the secret you still carried—the knowledge that despite everything, a part of you still loved Joshua, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him entirely.

Joshua’s mother had always been frail, suffering from a rare condition that left her frequently unwell. It was this reason that led Joshua to make the decision to live with his mother after just a few months of marriage. Despite both of you juggling demanding careers, Joshua insisted on taking care of her personally, sending the nurse away each night so he could attend to her himself.

Since Joshua had taken over the highest responsibilities at his company, business trips became a frequent part of his life, often leaving you alone with his mother. In the beginning, it wasn’t so bad. His mother was kind and nurturing, and you appreciated her presence. But as the months went on, things began to change.

Her once gentle suggestions started to feel more like subtle commands. "Don’t you think you should prepare a bath for him?" she mentioned one evening, shortly before Joshua was expected home from the office. You simply smiled in response, too tired to engage after a long day at work. But the comment lingered, an unspoken expectation hanging in the air.

"Y/n, you should stay at home," she said another time, her tone laced with concern. "You’ll be too exhausted to properly take care of your husband if you keep working."

Her words, once easy to brush off, began to grate on your nerves, especially on days when work had already worn you thin. Yet, you remained composed, understanding that she was his mother and that her meddling came from a place of care—even if it didn’t always feel that way.

There were nights when you would approach Joshua, hoping to discuss the possibility of the two of you living separately, away from the constant strain of these expectations. "Can’t we find a place of our own?" you’d ask gently. "It’s just… it’s getting hard, Joshua."

But Joshua would always respond with the same quiet firmness, his love for his mother evident in every word. "She’s too ill, love. I don’t think I can leave her to live alone."

And so, you tried to understand. You tried to be patient, even as the weight of the situation began to press down on your marriage.

One evening, as you were tidying up the living room, Joshua’s mother approached you with a soft but probing tone. "Have you checked yourself at the hospital, darling?" she asked, her eyes studying your reaction. "It’s been a few years now, and you still haven’t gotten pregnant. Is everything all right?"

Her question, though couched in concern, felt like a punch to the gut. You paused, the magazine you were holding slipping from your fingers as her words echoed in your mind. You had been bracing yourself for this conversation, knowing it was only a matter of time before she brought it up.

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, trying to keep your emotions in check. "The doctors say everything is fine, Mother," you replied, keeping your voice as steady as possible. "It just hasn’t happened yet."

Joshua’s mother frowned slightly, her concern deepening. "But it’s been so long, Y/n. You should consider seeing a specialist, maybe even explore other options."

The suggestion stung, though you knew she meant well. It wasn’t just the pressure to conceive—it was the weight of expectation that you carried every day. You had wanted a child just as much as she did, if not more. But Joshua… Joshua had been hesitant from the start.

You remembered the conversations you had had with him, the nights you had spent lying awake, thinking about the future, imagining the family you could build together. But Joshua always seemed reluctant, his fear of fatherhood holding him back. He had grown up in a broken home, witnessed his father’s abuse, and the scars those memories left on him ran deep. He had confessed to you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that he was terrified of becoming like his father, of hurting you or any future children the way his father had hurt him and his mother.

"We’ll have a child when the time is right," Joshua would say, his voice heavy with the weight of his own fears. "But not now. I’m not ready, Y/n."

And so, you had waited, pushing down your own longing, hoping that one day, he would feel ready. But as the years passed, the strain began to show—not just on you, but on your marriage as well. Now, with his mother’s pointed question hanging in the air, the unspoken tension between you and Joshua felt more palpable than ever.

"I understand," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "But it’s not just about seeing a specialist. There are other things… other reasons why it hasn’t happened yet."

Joshua’s mother looked at you with a mixture of pity and concern, clearly wanting to say more but holding back. "I just want what’s best for you, dear," she said softly. "For both of you."

You nodded, appreciating her concern even though it added to the weight you were already carrying. "I know. And we want that too."

But as you turned away, the words she didn’t say lingered in your mind, amplifying the doubts that had already taken root. You wanted to believe that everything would work out, that Joshua would eventually overcome his fears. But as time went on, it became harder to ignore the growing distance between the life you had imagined and the reality you were living.

"You know, she’s a lovely girl," one of Joshua's mother friends said when they came for visiting, her voice laced with that particular tone people use when they’re about to say something less than flattering. "But it’s strange, isn’t it? They’ve been married for years now, and still no children."

Another woman chimed in, "Yes, I’ve noticed. It’s unusual, especially for a young couple like them. Have they mentioned anything to you about it?"

There was a pause, and then you heard Joshua’s mother sigh. "No, she hasn’t said much. But I’m beginning to worry… What if she’s infertile?"

The words hit you like a slap. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as the conversation continued.

"Oh, that would be such a shame," one of the women responded sympathetically. "Your son deserves to have children, to continue the family line."

"I know," Joshua’s mother replied, her voice heavy with a mix of concern and resignation. "I feel so bad for him. He’s always wanted a family, and I’m sure this must be hard on him. But… what can we do?"

They moved on to other topics, but you couldn’t focus on anything else. The words echoed in your mind, over and over, each repetition cutting deeper than the last.

Infertile.

A shame.

I feel so bad for him.

You knew Joshua’s mother meant well, in her own way. But hearing her talk about you like that, like you were some kind of defective person, made you feel like you didn’t belong in this family—like you were failing Joshua, failing yourself. The weight of it all was too much to bear.

The tension between you and Joshua had been building for months, and after overhearing his mother’s conversation, it finally reached a breaking point. The desire for a child had always been there, but now, it felt like a constant, pressing need—one that you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“Joshua,” you began carefully as the two of you sat down for dinner, “we need to talk.”

He looked up from his plate, his expression wary. He knew what was coming. You had had this conversation before, and it never ended well.

“Can’t we just eat in peace?” he asked, his voice tired.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Your mother… she’s been putting a lot of pressure on me about having a child. She’s been saying things that… that hurt.”

Joshua frowned, confusion clouding his expression. “What do you mean?”

“She’s been asking me why I haven’t gotten pregnant yet. She even suggested I should see a doctor, as if there’s something wrong with me,” you confessed, your voice breaking slightly. “And I overheard her telling her friends that she thinks I might be infertile. She felt bad for you, saying that you deserve a child, and she doubted if I could give you one.”

Joshua’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing. “She said that?”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Yes. And it hurt, Joshua. It made me feel like I’m failing you, like I’m not good enough. I’ve tried to be understanding, I’ve tried to be patient, but… it’s tearing me apart.”

Instead of the sympathy you had hoped for, Joshua’s expression hardened. “My mother is ill, Y/n. She’s under a lot of stress, and she’s worried about us. That’s why she says those things. It’s not fair to hold that against her.”

“I’m not trying to hold it against her,” you said, your frustration rising. “But it’s affecting us, Joshua. It’s not just about what she said—it’s about how it’s making me feel. I’ve been trying to handle it on my own, but I can’t anymore. I need you to understand how much this is hurting me.”

Joshua shook his head, his voice growing colder. “So what? You want me to blame my mother? You think she’s the villain here? She’s just looking out for me, for us.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” you replied, feeling your own anger flare up. “But you can’t just dismiss how I feel. She’s making me feel like I’m not enough, like I’m failing as your wife, and you’re not doing anything to stop it.”

Joshua stood up from the table, pushing his chair back with more force than necessary. “She’s sick, Y/n! She’s the only family I have left, and you want me to start a fight with her because she’s worried about us having kids? You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

You stood up as well, the pain in your chest twisting into something sharper. “I’m not blowing it out of proportion! I’m telling you that your mother is hurting me, and instead of listening to me, you’re defending her!”

Joshua’s face was flushed with anger now, his hands balled into fists. “You don’t understand what it’s like, Y/n. You don’t know what she’s been through, what I’ve been through. She’s trying to protect me, and you’re turning her into some kind of monster!”

“I’m not!” you shouted, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But I can’t just keep pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not! I’m drowning here, Joshua, and you’re more concerned about protecting your mother’s feelings than mine!”

Joshua’s voice dropped, cold and sharp. “You’re the one who’s making this a fight, not me. Maybe you’re just looking for someone to blame because you’re not getting what you want.”

His words hit you like a slap in the face, and you recoiled, shocked by the bitterness in his tone. “Is that really what you think?” you whispered, your voice shaking.

Joshua’s gaze softened slightly, as if he realized he’d gone too far, but the tension in the air was too thick to dispel. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, but he didn’t apologize. He didn’t take it back.

Instead, he turned away, his back to you. “I can’t do this right now, Y/n. I just… I need some space.”

The room felt colder as he walked away, leaving you standing there alone, your heart aching with the weight of everything unsaid. You had come to him, hoping for understanding, for support, but instead, you felt more isolated than ever. The chasm between you and Joshua seemed to grow wider with every passing moment, and you were left wondering how, or if, you could ever bridge it again.

*

After the divorce was finalized, you wasted no time in disappearing to Jeju. It was a quiet, impulsive decision—one made in the heat of heartache and confusion. You didn’t tell anyone, not even your family, because you couldn’t bear the thought of facing their pity or questions. You needed to escape, to be alone with your thoughts, away from the memories and the pain.

The divorce had happened faster than you expected, almost too smoothly. There had been no drawn-out arguments, no legal battles. It was as if Joshua had been waiting for this, and that realization stung more than anything. You had thought there would be some resistance, some sign that he was still holding on to what you had built together. But there wasn’t. He signed the papers without hesitation, and with that, the final chapter of your marriage was closed.

The speed of it all made you wonder if Joshua had already given up on you long before the papers were drawn. Maybe he had been tired of you, tired of the constant tension and arguments, tired of your desire for a child that he couldn’t bring himself to accept. It was easier for him to let go than to fight, and that thought was devastating.

In Jeju, you found solace in the quiet. The island, with its endless ocean views and soft winds, offered the peace that you so desperately needed. You stayed in a small cottage near the shore, far removed from the life you once knew. The waves crashing against the rocks became your lullaby at night, and the sunrises over the water offered a sliver of hope each morning.

But no matter how hard you tried to run away from the past, it followed you. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Joshua’s face. You heard his voice, the way he had told you he needed space, the way he had defended his mother over you.

You woke up to the harsh, sterile smell of alcohol and the blinding white light that filled the room. Your head throbbed as you slowly opened your eyes, and for a moment, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings. The last thing you remembered was sitting on the shore, watching the waves roll in. The peaceful rhythm of the sea had always calmed you, but now, everything felt off—foreign, wrong.

Panic surged through you as you tried to sit up, only to realize you were lying on a hospital bed. The walls were white, the sound of medical machines humming in the background. You weren’t on the beach anymore. This wasn’t your cottage.

A soft voice pulled you out of your daze. “Mam, can you hear me?”

You turned to see a man in a white coat standing beside you. His expression was calm but concerned. “I’m Dr. Kim. You’re in a clinic now. Can you tell me your name?”

You blinked, your mind still foggy. “Y/n,” you whispered, your voice dry and weak.

Dr. Kim nodded, offering a small smile. “Good. Do you remember what happened?”

You tried to think back, but your memories were jumbled. The sea, the breeze, the quiet… and then nothing. You shook your head slowly. “I was on the beach. That’s all I remember.”

He sighed softly, glancing at the chart in his hand. “You were found by a fisherman early this morning. You passed out, and he brought you here. We’ve run some tests to make sure you’re okay.”

You swallowed, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. “Tests?”

“Yes,” Dr. Kim said gently, “and I want to assure you, you’re going to be fine. But there’s something else you need to know.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “You’re eight weeks pregnant.”

Your heart stopped. Pregnant? The word echoed in your mind, but it didn’t feel real. “No,” you muttered, shaking your head. “That can’t be right.”

Dr. Kim’s expression softened with understanding. “I know this might be unexpected news, but the tests confirmed it. You’re two months along.”

Two months. Eight weeks. The timeline fit perfectly with everything that had happened just before you left Joshua, before the divorce, before everything crumbled. You placed a trembling hand on your stomach, still flat but now holding a secret that was no longer just yours.

Suddenly, everything rushed back—the arguments, Joshua’s rejection, and his fear of fatherhood, And now, here you were, in a clinic, alone and pregnant.

Tears stung your eyes as the weight of it all came crashing down. You had hoped to avoid this moment, to escape it, but there was no running away from the truth now. You were going to have a child—Joshua’s child—and no matter how much you had tried to distance yourself from him, he would always be a part of this.

Dr. Kim’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Is there anyone you’d like us to contact? A family member, perhaps?”

You shook your head quickly, the tears now freely falling down your cheeks. “No. No one.”

He nodded, his expression kind but professional. “Take your time. We’ll make sure you’re stable and that everything with the pregnancy is progressing well. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

As he left the room, you were left alone with your thoughts and the knowledge that your life had just changed forever. The child you hadn’t dared to hope for was real, growing inside you, and now you had to decide what to do next.

But even as the fear gripped your heart, a small flicker of hope began to grow. For the first time in months, you weren’t running away. You were facing the future—one step at a time.

*

"Can we talk?"

You froze in place as Joshua's voice reached you. Turning slowly, you saw him standing there, dressed in a hospital gown, clearly preparing for his medical checkup before the donor. His eyes were tired, filled with confusion and something else you couldn’t quite place.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, your voice strained, "I have no energy for this right now."

"At least give me some enlightenment," Joshua said, his tone surprisingly calm despite the tension between you. "I came here two hours ago not knowing I had a daughter. And I've been patient enough to wait to ask this."

You felt the weight of his words pressing down on you. He had a right to know, and yet, telling him had always seemed impossible. You took a step toward him, meeting his gaze as you spoke quietly, “Yes, she's your daughter. I found out I was pregnant a week after our divorce.

A heavy silence hung between you as Joshua absorbed the news. His face remained unreadable, but you could see the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface.

"You need a proof?" you asked, almost defensively, your heart racing.

Joshua shook his head slowly. "No... I don’t need proof."

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, but before you could speak again, he continued.

"I wish she was mine," Joshua whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "From the first time I saw her, I wished she was mine."

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you couldn't respond. You had prepared for anger, for denial, for resentment, but not this. Not the raw longing in his voice, the quiet regret that had been buried deep inside him.

“I—” you started, but your voice faltered. You weren’t sure what to say.

Joshua took a deep breath, his hand running through his hair as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “Why didn’t you tell me, Y/n? Why did you run away without saying anything? I would’ve—”

“You would’ve what?” you cut him off, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “You would’ve told me how scared you were? How much you didn’t want this? You were terrified of becoming a father, Joshua. I couldn’t bear the thought of you rejecting me, rejecting her.”

He flinched at your words, his jaw tightening. “You should’ve given me a choice.”

“A choice?” You almost laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You couldn’t even handle the idea of having a child. You wanted time. And what was I supposed to do? Sit around and wait for you to be ready while I carried your child?”

Joshua’s eyes were filled with a mix of guilt and pain, but he remained silent, letting you speak.

“I did what I thought was best,” you continued, your voice trembling. “I couldn’t wait for you to come to terms with something that was already happening. I was terrified too, Joshua. But I didn’t have the luxury of walking away from it.”

Joshua looked down at the floor, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "I get that I was scared. I admit it. But I never would’ve abandoned you... or her." His voice cracked slightly as he spoke.

The vulnerability in his words caused your anger to soften, but the hurt remained. “Then why didn’t you fight for us?” you asked quietly. “Why did the divorce happen so easily?”

Joshua's eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw the truth—he had been just as lost as you were. “I thought you wanted out,” he said simply. “You brought up the divorce, and I thought you were done with me. I thought... I wasn’t enough.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “I didn’t want out. I wanted you to see me, to see us. But you were too focused on your fears.”

The silence that followed was heavy, both of you caught in the weight of everything left unsaid for years.

Joshua watched you closely, piecing together the puzzle in his mind. The business offer that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, the meetings, the subtle ways you kept a professional distance—it all started to make sense. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he couldn’t help but voice the suspicion gnawing at him.

"This whole sudden approach in business," he began slowly, his voice calm but laced with a quiet intensity, "was it just an excuse? Were you trying to find a way to retaliate our relationship in case Jina needed me?"

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how quickly he’d reached the conclusion you feared he might.

“Joshua—”

“Just tell me the truth, Y/n,” he said, cutting you off gently but firmly. “Was the business deal just a cover? Were you keeping me close because you thought... she might need me?”

You hesitated, unable to meet his gaze, and that was answer enough for Joshua.

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture of frustration and understanding. “I thought something felt off. The way you kept me at arm’s length, the professional tone... I kept thinking this wasn’t like you. But I didn’t want to push, didn’t want to make it harder.”

Silence fell between you, the tension thick as you struggled to find the right words. Finally, you sighed, your voice low. “I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t expect to reach out to you, not after everything. But when Jina got sick... I panicked. I realized she might need more than just me.”

Joshua’s jaw tightened as he processed your words. “So you were going to keep me out of her life unless she needed something from me?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head quickly. “It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t trying to use you, Joshua. I just... I didn’t know how to let you back in after everything that happened.”

Joshua stared at you, his expression softening as he saw the genuine conflict in your eyes. “You should’ve told me, Y/n. I had a right to know about her, about everything. You can’t just make those decisions on your own.”

“I know,” you whispered, guilt washing over you.

Finally, Joshua took a shaky breath. “I’m here now, Y/n. I don’t know how to make up for the past, but I’m not running away anymore. I want to be in her life. I want to be a father.”

His words hit you like a wave, and though part of you wanted to believe him, another part still held onto the hurt, the disappointment. "She's not something you can just decide to be a part of when it suits you, Joshua."

"I know that," he said softly, his eyes pleading with you. "I’m asking you to let me try."

You looked at him, the man who once couldn’t fathom being a father now standing before you, begging for a chance. It wasn’t forgiveness he sought, but a way forward.

And you didn’t know if you were ready to give it to him. But for your daughter’s sake—for Jina—you had to at least consider it.

"I need time too," you whispered, finally breaking the silence.

Joshua nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

*

The next day, the results came back—the match was confirmed, and Joshua was prepped for the procedure. The white blood cell donor was done swiftly, and you waited anxiously for updates on both Joshua and Jina.

When you heard Joshua had regained consciousness, you made your way to his room. As you entered, he looked pale but alert, his eyes immediately searching for you.

“How’s her condition?” he asked, his voice still weak, but full of concern.

A smile broke across your face, relief flooding your system. “Her surgery just finished. The doctor said her condition is stable.”

Joshua let out a deep breath of gratitude, sinking back into his pillow. You stood there for a moment, watching him—this man who had once been terrified of fatherhood, now willing to give everything for his daughter.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. “Thanks for doing this.”

Joshua nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “I’m her father. I’ll do everything for her.”

There was a weight to his words, an unspoken promise hanging in the air. You felt a knot loosen in your chest, the tension between you easing, if only slightly.

You sat down next to Joshua’s bed, the weight of everything finally sinking in. It had been a whirlwind, from the moment Jina fell sick to this very moment, sitting here with Joshua after the transfusion. Despite everything that had happened between you two, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of peace.

"How did you know?" Joshua asked, breaking the silence, his voice tentative.

You glanced up at him, unsure of how to answer. "That she was sick? Or that i have her?"

"Both," he replied, his eyes searching yours for answers.

You sighed, shifting in your seat. "I found out I was pregnant a week after the divorce. At first, I didn’t know what to do. I was scared, hurt, confused... and I didn’t want to reach out to you because I thought you'd reject her, reject us."

Joshua winced, his hand running through his hair. "I didn’t mean to push you away. I just didn’t know how to handle... everything."

"I know," you said softly. "And I ran too. I thought leaving was the best way to protect her. But when Jina got sick, I realized I couldn’t keep you away anymore. She needed you."

There was a pause, and then Joshua's expression turned serious. "You mentioned that Jina’s illness is the same as my mother’s. How did that come to light?"

You took a deep breath, nodding. "Yes, Jina’s condition is indeed the same rare illness your mother had. The doctors confirmed it. It’s hereditary, passed down through genetics, and that’s why the transfusion was so crucial. They said it was a match because of this genetic link."

Joshua's eyes widened with a mix of shock and realization. "I thought... I thought that illness was gone. I didn’t realize it could be passed on."

You reached out, gently touching his hand. "None of us knew until now."

Joshua's face fell as he absorbed the new revelation. "So, she has the same battle to fight as my mother did?"

You nodded sadly. "Yes. But she has a chance now, thanks to you. And that’s what matters."

Joshua’s gaze softened, a mixture of sorrow and resolve in his eyes. "I’ll do everything I can to help her through this. She deserves that chance."

You smiled faintly, feeling a sense of shared purpose. "Thank you, Joshua. That means more than you know."

For now, despite the challenges ahead, there was a shared commitment to face them together, for Jina's sake.

You gently introduced Jina to Joshua for the first time. Holding her small hand in yours, you led her into Joshua’s hospital room. She looked around, her eyes wide and curious, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Joshua, still in his hospital gown, sat up in bed, his expression a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

"Jina," you said softly, guiding her forward, "this is your father, Joshua."

Joshua’s eyes were warm as he looked at Jina. "Hi, Jina. It’s nice to finally meet you."

Jina was shy at first, hiding behind your legs and peeking out with wide, hesitant eyes. But as Joshua spoke gently to her, a flicker of recognition seemed to spark in her. She slowly moved closer, drawn by the undeniable bond of blood and the kindness in Joshua’s voice.

Over the next few days, Jina spent a lot of time in the hospital room with Joshua. The transition wasn’t easy at first, but Joshua made an effort to bond with her. He played games, read her stories, and held her hand during her treatments. The connection between them grew stronger with each passing day, and Joshua embraced his role as a father more than you could have hoped for.

As Jina’s condition improved and it was time for her to leave the hospital, she expressed a strong desire to stay with Joshua. She had grown attached to him, and the idea of living with her 'new' father excited her.

Joshua, seeing the bond they had formed and understanding the importance of this new family dynamic, made a heartfelt offer. "Why don’t you and Jina move in with me? It would be better for all of us, and I’d love to be there for both of you."

The offer took you by surprise. You had been adjusting to this new phase in your lives, but the thought of moving in with Joshua again was daunting. There were old wounds to heal and uncertainties to address.

You debated the decision with Joshua, weighing the benefits and challenges. Jina, however, was overjoyed at the prospect of living with her father full-time. Her excitement and the genuine bond she had formed with Joshua made it difficult for you to turn down his offer.

After much consideration, you agreed to move to Joshua’s place. It wasn’t just about convenience; it was about providing Jina with the stability and love she needed. You saw how deeply Joshua cared for her and how committed he was to being a father.

The move was bittersweet. There were remnants of old tensions, but there was also a hopeful sense of new beginnings. As you settled into the new routine, you focused on rebuilding your family and creating a supportive environment for Jina.

Joshua was more present and involved than ever, and the family dynamic slowly began to heal. With each passing day, the past seemed a little less burdensome, and the future, though uncertain, seemed filled with possibilities for all of you.

*

Joshua loosened his tie as he stepped into the house, feeling the familiar weight of exhaustion from the long day. The house was quiet, the kind of peaceful stillness that had become his sanctuary in recent weeks. Usually, by the time he got home, you were already in bed, the soft murmur of the television or the gentle rise and fall of your breathing the only sounds he’d hear. But tonight was different.

As he walked into the kitchen, he heard you come through the door just moments after him, the click of your heels and the tired sigh that followed. He turned, spotting you leaning against the wall, your shoes already off, looking like the day had been longer than usual.

"Just back home?" he asked, casually unbuttoning his shirt collar. The question felt natural, like a routine that had formed between the two of you without either of you realizing it.

"Yeah," you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. "A very long day. Minha told me Jina fell asleep after playing with the trampoline you just bought her."

Joshua couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Jina. "I’m glad she likes it," he said, feeling that familiar warmth that had come with being a father. Every day with her was new, different, and he found himself looking forward to each moment, no matter how small.

As he grabbed a glass of water, he glanced over at you. Things between the two of you had become... easier. That surprised him more than anything. After everything that had happened—the divorce, the years of separation—he had never expected this sense of peace between you. It was strange, but it was also something he hadn’t realized he’d needed.

It wasn’t just about Jina, though she was the center of it all. It was the way you both slipped into this new life so seamlessly. The tension that once filled the air between you had dissolved into something almost unrecognizable. He wasn’t sure how or when it happened, but somehow, living together again didn’t feel forced or uncomfortable. It felt... right.

"I never thought it would be like this," Joshua found himself saying, almost without thinking. He turned to you, watching as your gaze met his, a look of curiosity in your eyes. "That we’d be here, living together again. Raising her."

You nodded, like you understood exactly what he meant. "Me neither," you replied quietly.

He exhaled slowly, realizing just how much had changed in such a short time. Every part of his life had once been filled with uncertainty, with fear, especially when it came to fatherhood. But now? Now he was coming home to something that felt solid, like the pieces of his life were finally falling into place.

"It feels..." Joshua hesitated, searching for the right words to explain the rush of emotions inside him. "It feels good. Better than I thought it would."

He wasn’t just talking about Jina. Of course, his daughter was a huge part of why he felt this way—being her father, playing with her, watching her grow—it was everything he hadn’t known he wanted. But there was more to it than that. There was something between him and you, a kind of unspoken connection that had started to rebuild itself, brick by brick, without either of you acknowledging it.

The conversation flowed easily from there, a mix of random topics—work, the trampoline, Jina's antics. It was a nice change of pace, a chance to just talk without the weight of the past pressing down on you.

Eventually, the topic shifted to Jina, as it always did. Joshua smiled, thinking about their nightly routine. "She loves her bedtime stories," he said, almost fondly. "It's the best part of the day."

You nodded in agreement, your expression softening. "Yeah, she does. But she asked me something the other night that caught me off guard."

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"She asked me why we weren't like Sasha's parents." You said it casually, but there was a hint of something deeper in your voice. "You know, from her favorite book. The one about Sasha’s morning routine before school. Waking up, taking a bath, having breakfast."

Joshua thought about it for a second, then nodded. He remembered Jina's animated voice as she read along, her little hands gesturing wildly as she described Sasha's day. "Her parents kiss every morning, right?"

You sighed, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. And she asked, 'Why don't you and Daddy do that?'"

Joshua could almost hear Jina's voice in his head, the innocent curiosity behind her words. He could picture her big eyes looking up at you, her tiny hands mimicking Sasha's parents.

He glanced over at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So... do you want to kiss every morning?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was a slight laugh behind it. "That's not what I was getting at."

Joshua laughed too, the sound filling the room. "Then why bring it up?"

You took a sip of your beer and shrugged. "I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to share what she said. But we don’t have to force ourselves to do things just for her sake. She’ll understand eventually."

Joshua’s smile faded, and he turned serious for a moment. "But she’s still so young. I don’t want her to have to understand everything that’s happened between us. It’s not her burden to carry. That’s on us."

You glanced at him, sensing the weight behind his words. "Is that coming from experience?" you teased lightly.

He let out a soft chuckle, nodding. "Yeah. And trust me, she’ll thank us later if we handle it right."

You sighed, leaning back. "Alright, alright. I get it."

Joshua raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "So... does that mean you want to kiss every morning?"

You looked at him, a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Joshua."

*

Joshua stepped into the dining room, his usual morning grogginess slowly lifting as the familiar scene came into view. You were already sitting with Jina, who was happily in her baby seat, excitedly munching on her breakfast. Her face lit up as soon as she saw him.

"Morning..." Joshua said softly, his voice warm as he walked over to Jina. He leaned down, ruffling her hair with a fond smile. "Hi, baby... Do you like your food?"

Jina giggled, showing him her messy hands, oatmeal smudged across her cheeks. Joshua chuckled, his heart swelling at the sight. Mornings like these—simple and domestic—were beginning to feel more natural, more like something he hadn’t realized he craved.

You stood up, walking over to the counter, grabbing his coffee and setting it down in front of him with a casual "Morning."

He was about to respond when your lips brushed his, a fleeting touch that froze him in place. It wasn’t long or deliberate, but the surprise of it sent a jolt through him. His mind went blank, his body stiffening in shock.

Before he could even process it, Jina's excited voice cut through the air. "Eomma, appa, kiss!" she squealed, clapping her hands in delight. In her excitement, she managed to fling bits of food everywhere.

You laughed softly, wiping her face and the surrounding area with a cloth, completely unfazed by her mess. "Alright, alright, let's clean you up."

Joshua, still dazed, blinked a few times, trying to shake off the feeling. Did you just kiss him? Did he imagine that? It felt real—too real to just be in his head. He looked down at the coffee you placed in front of him, but he couldn’t focus.

"Do you like your coffee?" Your voice was light, casual, as if nothing unusual had just happened.

He blinked, snapping back to reality. "Uh, yeah. It’s... it’s great." He picked up the cup, taking a sip, the warmth grounding him as he stole a glance at you. You were back to wiping Jina's hands, acting like the kiss hadn’t just happened.

Joshua couldn’t help but replay the moment in his mind, over and over. It was so brief, but it lingered—just like the unspoken questions between you both. Was it for Jina’s sake? Was it just part of the routine now?

Each morning, it became a routine—Joshua would come down to the dining room, greeted by Jina's excited babbling and your calm, steady presence. And each morning, without fail, you would kiss him. It wasn’t long or deep, just a brief brush of your lips against his, but it was enough to make his heart skip. He never expected it, and yet, when it happened, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

At first, Joshua didn’t know what to make of it. Was it just for Jina? A way to give her the illusion of a normal, loving family? He didn’t ask, though. He couldn’t. The kiss, no matter how small, made him feel something—something he hadn’t felt in years. And if it made you feel anything close to what he did, he didn’t want to ruin it by questioning.

The routine didn’t stop at breakfast. One day, after the morning chaos settled and Jina was off to school, you casually suggested, “What if we take Jina out every weekend? A day just for her.”

Joshua nodded, happy to spend time with both of you. But as the weekends rolled by, your casual suggestion evolved into full-on plans. The park one weekend, then a picnic, followed by the aquarium. Soon you were planning beach trips, and even talks of weekend getaways or out-of-country vacations floated between you two. Joshua didn’t quite understand why you were so insistent on it—why it had to be every weekend, and why everything was planned so meticulously. But he didn’t complain. Instead, he followed along, content with how things were.

The spontaneity didn’t end there. You started coming home early from work, which caught Joshua off guard. He’d walk in from work, loosening his tie, only to find you in the kitchen, dinner already half-prepared, Jina babbling away at the dining table.

At first, Joshua didn’t know how to feel. It was strange seeing you so present. But after a while, he adjusted. He even started leaving work earlier, making sure he was home before dinner so he could sit with you and Jina. That hour before dinner became something he looked forward to—an hour of calm, where the three of you could just be together.

And then there was Jina’s bedtime. What had once been an alternating task—one night you would read her a story, the next it would be Joshua—turned into a shared routine. You both started reading together, one of you voicing the characters while the other filled in the details, Jina giggling between your voices. The joy in her eyes was infectious, and Joshua often caught himself getting lost in the moment.

He hadn’t realized it until recently, but this was the life he’d always dreamed of. He had a daughter, a family, a sense of stability that he never thought he’d have. And you—well, you were more than just a co-parent. Slowly, without either of you acknowledging it, you were slipping back into something more.

Joshua didn’t know where this was going or what you were thinking, but he was happier than he’d been in years. It still felt fragile, like everything could fall apart with one wrong move. But for now, he was content to let things unfold, to enjoy the routine, the warmth of your kiss each morning, the laughter over dinner, and the shared bedtime stories.

It was more than he ever thought he deserved, and he was too scared to ask for anything more.

Joshua came home, but something felt off immediately. The house was unusually quiet. There was no sign of Jina’s usual laughter or your familiar voice filling the space. His brows furrowed as he stepped deeper into the house, scanning the rooms until he finally reached the family room.

There you were, sitting on the couch with Jina nestled in your arms, and across from you sat his mother, her posture stiff, eyes sharp. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Joshua," his mother said, her voice icy. "Care to explain why your ex-wife is here?"

Joshua’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t prepared for this—hadn’t even told his mother about the new situation with you and Jina. His mother had no idea that Jina was her granddaughter. He hadn’t planned for her to find out like this, and now, with everything out in the open, his carefully constructed plan was unraveling.

Taking a deep breath, Joshua walked over and stood between you and his mother. He glanced at you, and the look in your eyes told him you were just as surprised and unsure of what to say.

"This is Jina," Joshua finally said, his voice steady but filled with the weight of the truth. "She’s my daughter."

His mother’s gasp echoed in the room. "Your daughter? What do you mean? What’s going on here?" she demanded, her voice rising with disbelief.

Joshua sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s a long story, Mom. A lot has happened, and I wasn’t ready to tell you yet. But I’ll come by tomorrow and explain everything. For now, I need you to trust me."

His mother looked between him and you, her confusion and frustration evident. Joshua gently took her arm, helping her to stand. "Please," he added softly, "just give me time to explain. We’ll talk tomorrow."

Reluctantly, she nodded, still looking at Jina as if trying to comprehend the new reality. Without another word, Joshua led his mother to the door, closing it softly behind her as she left.

The quiet returned, and when he walked back into the house, he found you already in the kitchen, washing dishes in silence. Jina sat on the floor, engrossed in her favorite TV series, oblivious to the tension that had just filled the house.

Joshua watched you for a moment, the silence between you louder than anything. You moved mechanically, your back to him, the distance between you more than just physical. He knew something was wrong—knew it by the way you didn’t meet his eyes when he walked in, by the way you had prepared his dinner without a word.

"Hey," he said softly, stepping into the kitchen, but you didn’t respond.

After a moment, you finally spoke, your voice low, emotion barely restrained. "I’m going to read Jina to sleep. You should eat your dinner."

Joshua nodded, watching as you wiped your hands on a towel and turned toward Jina. But the weight of the situation hung heavy on him, and he couldn’t let you walk away without saying something.

"Look," he began, his voice hesitant. "I know tonight was... unexpected. I wasn’t ready for her to find out like this. I’m sorry."

"That's fine."

With that, you walked over to Jina, scooping her up and heading toward her bedroom to read her a bedtime story. Joshua stood there, staring at the dinner you had prepared for him, but the food was the last thing on his mind. He knew things had to change, and quickly.

Joshua knocked on your door, knowing you were inside since Jina was already fast asleep in her own room. His heart pounded a little harder than usual, but he had to do this. He needed to clear the air.

"Can we talk?" he asked softly when you opened the door.

You stepped aside, silently giving him permission to enter, and Joshua walked in. The room was small but cozy, though it struck him how different it was from the shared life you once had. His eyes scanned the desk piled with papers, a computer still open—clearly, you had been working late. He realized how much you were juggling, and it only made him more determined to make things right.

"I'll explain everything to my mom tomorrow," he began, his voice steady, though there was a vulnerability in the way he stood. "And I’ll tell her that we’re back together."

You didn’t respond right away, just slowly nodding. But Joshua noticed the way your eyes flickered, the subtle tension in your posture. He couldn’t tell if you were on board with his plan or simply accepting it because it was easier than arguing. That uncertainty gnawed at him.

He knew that his mother had hurt you deeply in the past, her interference during your marriage a wound that hadn’t fully healed. And now, here he was, bringing his mother back into the equation. But this time, the situation was different. His mother had remarried and didn’t need to live with him anymore. There wouldn’t be anyone else in your home to create the chaos that had driven a wedge between you before.

"You won’t have to deal with her like before," Joshua added, his tone softening as he stepped closer. "She won’t be living with us, and I’ll make sure she knows her boundaries. I don’t want her—or anyone else—to hurt you again."

You looked up at him, and for a moment, your eyes locked. He could see the hesitation there, the doubt that lingered from old wounds. But there was something else too, something hopeful. Joshua wasn’t sure if it was enough to convince you, but he had to believe it could be.

"I just need you to trust me," he said quietly, his voice almost pleading now. "I know I’ve messed up before. But I’m trying, and I want to make things right—for you, for Jina, for all of us."

*

Joshua was relieved that the routine didn’t fall apart after that tense night with his mother. Despite the confrontation and the heavy conversation that followed, nothing drastically changed in the way you, Jina, and he interacted. In fact, the next morning, everything seemed normal. Jina was her usual excited self, giggling and bouncing around the house. You were busy as usual, managing the house and work effortlessly.

He had explained everything to his mother, sitting her down and finally telling the truth—about Jina, about you, and about the part she played in your separation. It had been difficult to admit, but he couldn’t hide from it anymore. His mother was one of the main reasons why your marriage had fallen apart, and for so long, he had shielded her from that truth. But now, things were different. He needed her to understand that his relationship with you was no longer just about the two of you—it was about Jina.

To his surprise, his mother had listened quietly, her face drawn and serious. She had taken the news with more grace than he’d expected, though he knew it wasn’t easy for her. When he asked for her understanding and support moving forward, she had nodded, albeit hesitantly. The wounds were still fresh, but at least they were out in the open now.

Jina, unaware of all the complexity around her, was the glue that kept things light. She had no idea what her parents were going through emotionally, and for that, Joshua was grateful. All she saw was that both her parents were around more and that they were starting to act like a family again. One night at dinner, she had blurted out, "I love it when we’re all together!" Her bright smile and simple joy hit Joshua right in the heart, making everything feel worth it.

It wasn’t long before you and Joshua found yourselves sharing a bed again—not out of any sudden romantic resurgence, but because Jina wanted it that way. She had insisted that the three of you sleep in the same room, piling up her blankets and toys in your bed. Joshua had been nervous at first, wondering if this step would complicate things between you two. But Jina, being the little whirlwind that she was, had no idea of her parents' internal struggles.

What made it easier—what turned the nerve-wracking into something sweet—was Jina’s newfound love for counting. Every night, before bed, she would proudly count to twenty, her voice a mix of concentration and excitement.

“One… two… three…” she would begin, and Joshua and you would both have to follow along, pretending to be as invested as she was. By the time she reached twenty, Jina would cheer, pleased with her accomplishment, and only then would she allow herself to settle down, curling up between you both.

As Joshua lay there, the warmth of Jina’s tiny body nestled against him, he couldn’t help but feel like life was starting to come together. It wasn’t perfect, and there were still a lot of unspoken things between you and him, but for now, this small routine, this quiet moment with Jina, was enough to keep him going. It was the family life he’d always wanted, and he was willing to take it one step at a time, hoping that eventually, everything else would fall into place too.

*

Joshua was in the middle of an important meeting when his other secretary stepped into the conference room, catching his main secretary’s attention with an urgent signal. Joshua noticed the subtle exchange but didn’t think much of it until his main secretary quietly approached him, phone in hand, his expression grave.

“Sir,” he whispered, “your daughter has been rushed to the hospital.”

Joshua’s heart stopped. Without a second thought, he abruptly ended the meeting and rushed out, his mind racing as he made his way to the hospital.

When he arrived, he spotted you standing motionless in front of the ICU, your eyes locked on Jina, who was lying weakly on the hospital bed, her small body surrounded by machines. The sight made his breath catch in his throat.

“What happened?” Joshua’s voice was thick with fear as he approached you, but you didn’t immediately respond. You looked distant, as if the weight of the situation had drained all the life from you.

Around you, the family had gathered—your secretary, your brother Seungcheol, and your mother, all wearing similar expressions of dread. It felt suffocating.

“Where’s Minji?” Joshua asked about Jina's nanny, his voice sharper than intended. His mind was racing, trying to grasp any detail that might help him understand the situation.

“She’s been dismissed for a week,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. You turned and glanced at your mother, who silently pulled you into a tight embrace.

Joshua’s heart clenched with confusion and fear. “What’s happening?” he asked, turning to Seungcheol, desperate for answers.

Seungcheol hesitated, his eyes filled with sadness. “Her heartbeat dropped.”

Joshua felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him. His pulse roared in his ears. The words didn’t seem real. His little girl, who was so full of life just hours ago, was now fighting to survive.

The doctor appeared, asking for both parents to step forward. Joshua moved on autopilot, standing beside you as the doctor spoke.

“I’m afraid Jina’s condition is critical,” the doctor said gravely. “Her lungs have collapsed, and their function has been decreasing over time. We are doing everything we can, but...” He paused, his expression pained. “You need to prepare for the worst.”

The room seemed to close in on Joshua. He glanced at you, your face pale and expression blank, as though you hadn’t quite processed the enormity of the situation. He wanted to reach out, to hold you, to reassure you—maybe even reassure himself—but he felt paralyzed by fear.

The weight of the doctor's words hung in the air, crushing, unforgiving. And for the first time in his life, Joshua felt completely powerless.

*

"You knew about this." Joshua's voice cut through the heavy silence as you stepped into the house after the funeral.

Everything had happened so fast. In just eight hours, you lost Jina forever. The world seemed to blur around you, every moment a haze of grief and disbelief.

You collapsed onto the couch, still in your black dress. Joshua sat on the floor in front of you, his suit rumpled, his tie undone, holding your hand tightly as if you were his last lifeline. His eyes searched yours, filled with sorrow and something close to desperation. "Did you know this was going to happen?" he asked, his voice a whisper but laden with the weight of his pain.

You couldn’t meet his gaze at first, the tears spilling down your cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Even though you had expected this, even though you had imagined it in your worst nightmares every night for weeks, it still felt impossible. How could Jina be gone?

Slowly, you nodded, your breath hitching as you tried to speak. "Since the surgery," you choked out between sobs. You lowered your head, resting it on your knees, while Joshua’s head dropped into your hand, both of you clinging to the last vestiges of each other as the world fell apart.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "Why didn’t you let me prepare?"

"I couldn’t," you replied, the words barely making it out through your tears. "I couldn’t bear to say it out loud... not to you."

Joshua’s grip on your hand tightened as his body shook with silent sobs. "So you’ve been counting down to this day?" His voice was raw, filled with disbelief and heartache.

You nodded again, unable to stop the flood of tears. "Everything I did... was for her. I didn’t want to burden you with the truth, not when there was a chance..." Your words trailed off into the weight of your grief.

For a long moment, you both sat there, entwined in each other's pain, crying for the daughter you loved more than anything, for the future that was now gone, for the emptiness that Jina's absence left behind.

Joshua's head rested against your hand, and for once, you let yourself cry together with him, no walls, no shields, just the raw and unrelenting agony of loss. There were no words that could fix this, no actions that could bring her back.

You still remembered the moment the doctor delivered the devastating news. Jina’s condition was worsening rapidly, her lungs failing. "She needs a donor immediately," the doctor had said, his expression grave. "But even with a donor, her body won’t recover more than 50%. It would only extend her life by a few months."

Those words had shattered you. But instead of collapsing under the weight of grief, you had shifted into survival mode, planning out every detail. You formulated a plan, almost like a business pitch in your head—asking Joshua to be the donor for Jina and ensuring that her last months were spent together as a family.

You approached Joshua on the day he found out about Jina, masked in calmness, hiding your desperation. You asked him to be the donor, and to your relief, he agreed without hesitation. Everything seemed to fall into place—Joshua moved back in, you created a life that felt, for once, complete. But all the while, you knew time was ticking.

Seungcheol had been the one to snap you out of your delusions, his blunt words slapping reality into you. "You need to accept that Jina wants to live a full life with both of her parents," he had said, his voice firm but understanding. "She deserves that. You both do."

That was when you accepted Joshua’s offer to move in together. You knew it wasn’t just for Jina—it was for you too. Jina’s happiness in her final days became your only priority. You spent your days like a family, and for everyone else, it looked like a dream come true. But every passing moment felt like walking through hell for you, knowing that Jina’s time was running out.

Every night, after you put Jina to bed and Joshua retreated to his room, you would sit in the darkness and cry, trying to hold on to every precious second. You could feel the inevitability of her leaving you, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Joshua the truth about how close the end really was.

Jina had been happy. She got the life she wanted, with her two parents by her side, filling her days with laughter and love. But for you, it was a torturous countdown. Every tick of the clock reminded you that this family, this life, would soon shatter.

You held it together for her. You played the role, smiled through the pain, and made sure Joshua never suspected how deep your sorrow ran. And now, sitting in the empty house, that silence pressed down on you. You had given Jina everything you could, but the ache of her absence was more than you could bear.

After Jina’s passing, the house was cloaked in an oppressive silence. The once lively and joy-filled rooms now seemed hollow, echoing with the absence of her laughter. You found Joshua in the kitchen, his face drawn and tired. He had been trying to hold everything together, for Jina and for you, but the weight of loss had become too heavy to bear alone.

You approached him quietly, a lump in your throat. "Joshua," you began softly, your voice trembling, "the role of being Jina's parent... it’s over now. We both did everything we could for her, and she’s no longer with us."

Joshua’s eyes filled with pain, but he nodded slowly. "I know. It’s just hard to let go."

"I understand," you said, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyes. "But now it’s time for us to return to who we were before all of this began. We have to face reality."

Joshua’s gaze was distant, as if he was still trying to process everything. "And what about us? What do we do now?"

The heaviness in the room was almost suffocating as you stood there, Joshua’s hand still in yours. His grip tightened, as though he could feel something slipping away.

“There’s no ‘us’ in the present, Joshua,” you said softly, pulling your hand away. Your voice was steady, but the words felt like sharp edges, cutting through the fragile connection that had formed between you both in the past few months. "No ‘us’ without Jina."

Joshua blinked, his face crumpling slightly as the truth of your words hit him. “But we’ve been—”

“There’s no point in pretending,” you interrupted, your voice wavering but firm. “Everything we did, everything we built these last few months... it was for Jina. Now that she’s gone, there’s nothing holding us together anymore.”

Joshua stood still, his breath catching as he looked at you, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. “I love you, Y/n,” he confessed, his voice thick with desperation. “I’ve never stopped loving you. I can't stop loving you.”

You froze, his words like an old wound being torn open. You looked down at the floor, the weight of his love too heavy, too late. The silence between you was deafening, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped.

Finally, you looked up, meeting his eyes with a sadness you couldn’t mask. “I lost my sense to love you the same again when you told me to leave years ago, Joshua,” you said quietly, each word carrying the weight of the past. “When you pushed me away, that’s when it all broke. And I don’t think I can find that part of myself again.”

Joshua’s face crumpled with guilt and regret, his shoulders sagging as he absorbed the truth. “I didn’t mean to... I was scared, I was confused—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your voice gentle but firm. “But it doesn’t change what happened. We can’t undo the pain we caused each other. We’ve both lost so much. I don’t have the strength to go back and try to fix us.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn’t move, didn’t try to argue. He just nodded slowly, as though he had finally accepted the truth that had been looming over both of you.

"I wish things could be different," Joshua whispered.

“So do I,” you whispered back, the finality of your words settling in the air between you.

Joshua watched the video in silence, his hands trembling slightly as he held the phone. The screen flickered with a memory that wasn’t his own, but one that pierced through his heart like a knife. The video showed you recording Jina on the beach during a sunny weekend. Her small hands sifted through the golden sand, her laughter ringing out like a melody against the backdrop of crashing waves.

Your voice came through the speakers, bright and warm, filled with an unmistakable love. “Are you happy, Jina?” you asked, the camera focusing on her tiny face lit up with joy.

Jina giggled, a sound so innocent and pure that it felt like a balm and a wound all at once. “I’ve never been this happy, Mom!” she exclaimed, tossing sand into the air in celebration.

Joshua couldn’t help but smile faintly at her enthusiasm, but his chest tightened as the moment unfolded.

Then came her next words—words that felt like a punch to the gut. “I could’ve died!” Jina declared, her small arms flailing dramatically.

Your voice faltered in the video, turning hoarse as you gently scolded her. “Don’t say that, Jina. It’s not a nice word.”

The weight in your tone was evident, even through the recording, and Joshua felt it too—a mixture of fear, protectiveness, and sorrow.

On the screen, Jina’s expression softened, and she stared directly at the camera, her small lips forming a pout. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her voice small and sincere.

Joshua felt his tears begin to fall, hot and unchecked, as he watched her. The sight of her—the way she wrinkled her nose in apology, her innocent smile shining like the sun—was too much to bear.

“I’m just so happy with you and Daddy here that I think I could’ve died,” Jina added, her voice brighter now, as if she wanted to reassure you. Then she raised her tiny hand as if making a solemn vow. “But I promise I won’t actually die, Mom!”

Joshua’s vision blurred as the tears came harder, streaking his face and dripping onto his hands. He pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the sob that threatened to escape, but it was no use.

On the screen, Jina beamed at the camera, her small frame outlined by the golden rays of the sun. She was radiant, alive, and so full of promise.

“Jina,” Joshua whispered, his voice breaking. His little angel. His light. The realization hit him like a tidal wave—she had found her home, her happiness, her peace. And yet, he was still strayed, lost in a storm of his own making.

The video ended, but the sound of her laughter lingered in his mind, echoing like a prayer.

*

"I can raise her alone," you insisted, your voice steady but filled with underlying desperation. You were sitting across from Seungcheol in the quiet of your dimly lit living room. It was late, but the weight of the conversation felt heavier than the silence of the night.

Seungcheol, ever pragmatic, leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Yes, you can,” he said, his tone measured but firm. “But are you really going to ignore what the doctor said? Jina needs a donor as soon as possible, Y/n. There’s no one else—only her father.”

Your heart sank at his words, the weight of the truth pressing down on you like a boulder. “He hurt me,” you whispered, your voice cracking. The memories of Joshua’s rejection and the pain he left you with resurfaced, raw and unhealed.

Seungcheol’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he stood and walked over to you. Gently, he pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and steady. “I know,” he murmured, his chin resting lightly on top of your head. “I know he hurt you. But he’s still her father, Y/n. And right now, Jina needs him. That’s the only way to save her.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as the magnitude of the situation hit you. For a long moment, you let yourself lean into Seungcheol’s support, the sound of his heartbeat steadying your own chaotic thoughts. His words lingered, piercing through your pain: This is the only way.

After what felt like hours but was likely only a few minutes, you pulled back and nodded. “Okay,” you said quietly, your voice trembling but resolute. “Let’s do it. Prepare whatever I need to get this started.”

Seungcheol’s face brightened with determination. “Good,” he said firmly, already moving into action. He reached into his bag and pulled out a folder, handing it to you. “Here’s everything you need. I’ll coordinate the rest. I’ve already asked Chan to assist you during this time. I’ll brief him myself.”

Your gaze fell on the cover of the folder, and the bold letters stared back at you like a challenge: The Hong Joshua Project.

It felt clinical, impersonal even, but you knew this was no ordinary task—it was the fight for Jina’s life. You flipped through the pages, scanning the meticulous plans Seungcheol had outlined, and you felt a surge of gratitude for him. He had always been there, a constant source of strength and clarity in your life.

Seungcheol placed his hands firmly on your shoulders, grounding you. “Listen to me, Y/n,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “This is going to be hard. A very hard journey. You’ll need to push aside your emotions, your pride, and everything else you’re feeling—for Jina’s sake. But I promise you, I’ll be right here. I’ve got your back, just like I always have.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. Memories of all the times Seungcheol had stepped in to support you flooded your mind. He wasn’t just a brother— he was a bestfriend, family, a lifeline, and you knew you could trust him with anything.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. “For everything.”

Seungcheol smiled faintly, his grip on your shoulders tightening briefly in reassurance. “Now,” he said, stepping back and gesturing to the folder in your hands, “this project starts today. Let’s save her.”

And with those words, the weight of the task ahead settled over you. It wasn’t going to be easy—nothing about this would be. But for Jina, for the little girl who was your entire world, you would endure anything. Even if it meant facing the man who had broken your heart.

[insidekatmind]

Silent Promises~Jonathan Daviss

It was a cool spring evening when Jonathan called you for the second time that week. His calls were always filled with laughter, jokes, and a familiarity that comforted you. But this time, something in his tone made you raise an eyebrow.

"Hey, how are you?" Jonathan asked, and his voice sounded more serious than usual.

"I'm good, thanks," you replied, trying to sound more convincing than you felt. "I just finished doing some interviews for the new album."

"I can imagine," he replied with a light laugh, but it sounded a bit tense. "You know, the song you wrote about Drew... it's really powerful. There's a lot of you in that one."

A shiver ran down your spine. Drew... The man you had loved, but who had betrayed you. Every word of the song Heartbreak Highway spoke of your pain, broken dreams, and the loneliness you had felt after discovering his betrayal. The public had loved it, of course. It had gone viral, like all your most honest songs.

"Yeah... it was hard to write," you admitted, feeling a lump in your throat. "But the best of me came out. I'm glad people can relate to it."

"I'm sure," he said softly. "You're incredible, as always." His voice grew more tender but also more serious. "Listen, I want to talk to you about something..."

A small suspicion crept into your mind. Jonathan had never been afraid to be direct with you. But something felt different today. It was as if he was avoiding telling you something important.

"Sure, tell me everything," you replied, trying to keep your tone normal.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and when Jonathan spoke again, his voice trembled just slightly. "I... I know you're hurting, and I care about you. You know I've always been there for you."

"I know," you said, almost whispering. "And you've always been my rock, Jonathan."

He hesitated again. "I just want you to know that you deserve someone who truly loves you. Not someone who betrays you. Not someone who makes you feel less than you are."

Your heart stopped for a moment. His words seemed so sincere, but there was something deeper, as if he wasn’t just talking about Drew.

"Jonathan..." you whispered, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. "I... I’m not ready for another relationship, not now. Not after what happened."

"I’m not talking about a relationship," he said gently, but with an incredible firmness that struck you. "I'm just saying, I’m here. Always."

You sank into the couch, feeling the weight of his words. You had known him for so long. You’d laughed together, cried together, shared dreams, fears, and hopes. But you had never seen Jonathan in this light. Every word he spoke seemed to carry something more, a feeling you couldn’t fully decipher.

"Jonathan..." you repeated, his name sounded different on your tongue. "I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to think that I’m ignoring how you feel about me."

"I don’t want you to feel obligated," he said quickly, almost in a whisper. "I don’t want to put pressure on you. I just... I just want you to know that I care about you, in a way that goes beyond friendship. I’ve loved you, always."

The world seemed to stop for a moment. Jonathan... loved you? How had you never noticed it before? But at the same time, how could you respond to this revelation when your heart was still broken over Drew?

"Jonathan, I... I don’t know what to say." Your voice trembled, but not out of fear. Out of confusion, out of surprise. "I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to be like Drew... like someone who deceived me."

"You know I’m not like that," he replied, his voice full of sincerity you had never heard before. "And I understand, really. But I just want you to know that, no matter what happens, I’ll always be here. I don’t just want to be your best friend. I want to be something more, if one day you want it."

Silence fell heavily between you, and as his words echoed in your head, your heart hammered in your chest. You were lost. Lost in a sea of emotions you didn’t know how to manage.

"Jonathan..." you repeated finally, trying to find the strength to say something you never thought you’d say. "Maybe, in another time, in another life, we could have been more. But right now... I need time."

He nodded, even though you couldn’t see it. "I understand. And I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you, if you’re ever ready."

The call ended there, but that silent promise lingered between you. A promise of time, of hope, of a future that would come, or maybe not. But one thing was certain: Jonathan would never just be a friend to you. Something inside you was changing, and maybe, one day, you would look at him with different eyes.

And in the meantime, your song continued to play on the radio, an anthem of heartbreak and rebirth, while Jonathan, from afar, watched you with silent hope.

[theocddiaries]

Robotnik: Wait, you like Sonic??? [bursts out laughing]: Oh… hey, when you’re about to tell him, let me know so I can be there. I want to see your faces, hahaha! Rouge: Don’t listen to this guy. What does he know? The only butterflies he’s ever felt were just gas. Robotnik: Bat, I’ve spent enough time trying to destroy that hedgehog to know your friend is going to embarrass himself. What are you even thinking, Shadow? If Sonic even said no to Amy, who’s independent, nice, and strong, do you think he’s going to say yes to you? When you're an anxious, bitter, useless thing whose only accomplishment in life was nearly destroying the world and everyone Sonic loves in it? Come on… Come back to Earth… Shadow [lowers his ears, looking at the ground] Robotnik [wipes a tear]: Damn, that was good… [dials a number. talks while walking away]: Orbot, look, we’re postponing world domination till tomorrow, because my day’s been made today. You're not gonna believe-- Rouge: Don’t listen to him. Shadow: No, he’s right. Besides, to Sonic, his brother is his whole world, and this kid hates me. Rouge: That’s not true-- Tails: Wait, you know that? Rouge: Is today about discrediting everything I’m trying to say or what? Tails [ignores her]: Is that why you agreed to take care of me until he came back, anyways? Shadow: And put up with all your antics, you're not a walk in the park, either. But don’t worry, because once Sonic's back we'll not be forced to spend time together again. Tails: No, wait-- [sighs]: I’m going to regret this, I know it. [dials his brother’s number]: Sonic? [motions to Rouge and Shadow to stay quiet] Sonic: Hi, Tails! Everything okay? Tails: Yeah! I--I wanted to ask you for some advice. Sonic: Sure, shoot. Tails: So… there’s this girl in my class that I like, but I think she only wants to be friends. I was thinking of telling her, but I’m scared she might not reciprocate and will stop even being my friend. Sonic: Well… Listen, you never know if that's what gonna happen. I’d still do it. Those things are better said so you’re both on the same page. Tails: And what if she doesn’t want to see me again? Sonic: Look, if she needs some time, that’s okay. But if she’s your friend, it’s because she likes you, even if it’s not in that way. Look what happened with Amy and me. Tails: Yeah, that’s true. So if you were in the recieving end…? Sonic: I'd feel flattered. And I'd like to know in case I don't like them back so I can help them and be there for them without it being too much. So, just be honest with her. Tails [gives Shadow a knowing look]: Yes, sounds a lot like you. Sonic: And who is it? Do I know her? Is that Zoey girl, isn't--? Tails: Okay, bye, be careful! [hangs up]: See, whether it’s a yes or a no, he’s not going to laugh at you or push you away. Shadow: …Thank you, Tails. Rouge: It's crazy that you had the same situation with that Zoey girl and just happened to remember it now. Sometimes life works in such funny ways. Tails: …And in moments like this, I understand why you and Knuckles match so much. Rouge: Aw, thank--Hey! Shadow: Told you.

[nelle-y]

A love story told through voicelines (V)

C/W: slow-burn, Diluc x gn!reader, reader works at the flower shop in Mondstadt, fluff, shorter than the rest but that’s because it’s the end

Note: The story comes to a close! Thank you all so much for your support, I couldn’t have done it without you guys🫶🏻 If you have some ideas for other fics, feel free to leave a request in my inbox! (Part 1) (Part 4)

(You) About Diluc: Reflections

I’ve been thinking a lot about our fight. I don’t know if it was the heat of the moment or my own pride, but I said things I shouldn’t have. I called him stubborn, like his concern for me was some kind of flaw. He didn’t deserve that!

But when he called me reckless… it stung. I wanted to defend myself, to tell him I could handle it, but deep down, I knew he was right. I was reckless. I got hurt because I wasn’t careful, and instead of thanking him for worrying about me, I threw it back in his face.

I know he was just trying to protect me. That’s who he is—he takes on the weight of the world, and I made it even heavier with my words. I was so caught up in proving I didn’t need him hovering over me that I forgot how much he cares.

If I could go back, I’d say something different. Or maybe… I’d just listen. He didn’t deserve my anger. He deserved better.

(Diluc) About you: Reflections

My thoughts are quite repetitive when it comes to them, and maybe that’s how I drove them away—by caring more about their safety instead of them. I didn’t mean to hurt them, but seeing the scar on their arm reminds me of how much I could lose with one careless act. It was unbearable. And I let that fear dictate my words.

I know I can be overbearing. They’ve told me before that I control too much, and that I was… incredibly stubborn. Maybe they’re right. I wanted to protect them, but I didn’t stop to think about how they felt, what they needed from me in that moment. I acted as if I knew best, and in doing so, I ignored the trust we’ve built.

If I could go back, I’d handle it differently. I’d find the right words, words that wouldn’t hurt them. But now… all I can do is hope I haven’t broken something I can’t repair.

(You) About work

I’ve been trying to get back into the rhythm of working at Flora’s shop, but… it feels strange. The flowers are the same, the customers are the same, but something feels off. Maybe it’s me. Or maybe it’s the weight of everything that happened at the manor. I keep catching myself glancing toward the road leading to Angel’s Share, wondering if he’s okay, or if… he even cares.

*sigh* I need to focus. These asters aren’t going to arrange themselves.

(Diluc) About you: From afar

I passed by Flora’s shop today, and I saw them working as usual, but… quieter. Seeing them brought it all back—those quiet moments at the winery, their laughter, the way they always managed to surprise me. It’s unbearable, how much I miss them.

I almost stepped in, but quickly retreated. What would I even say? “I’m sorry”? Would that even matter by now? I’m sure they’re mad at me—maybe furious. And I’m sure… if I could change anything, I would change even the night I resigned from my position as Cavalry Captain if it meant bringing them back.

(You) About Diluc: Finally aware

I saw him today, you know. Well, not saw as in meet with—he just passed by. He didn’t come in; though strangely, I took a step in his direction. Out of habit, I suppose. I don’t think he noticed me… and why would he? After everything… Ugh! Why am I still dwelling on it? It’s not like I’m waiting for him or anything.

He’s just so… stuck. In my mind. I keep hoping to see him, even just for a moment. I miss eating with him, and trying to make him laugh. I miss the flowers that we took care of in the winery. I miss Adelinde.

I miss him…

And it’s infuriating, because I was the one who left. I needed space. I chose to leave the winery because it felt like too much. So why? Why does he linger like this? Why does every passing memory of him feel so sharp, so close, like it was yesterday?

I don’t know what this is. I thought leaving would bring me peace, but it’s only made me realize how deeply he’s rooted in me. I don’t know if I can ever let him go, even if I should.

…Could it be? Could this feeling—this aching pull—be love?

No… not could. It is. I love him.

(Diluc) About you: Finally aware

I need your thoughts on something. It’s… rather personal. For some time now, I’ve found myself increasingly distracted by them—always thinking about their safety, their well-being, even their smallest habits. Every little thing they do seems to pull at my attention. At first, I dismissed it as concern, but it’s different—stronger.

When I spoke to Adelinde about it, she said it sounded like love. Love. I… I don’t know what to make of that. But the more I think about it, the more everything starts to make sense—why I can’t stand the thought of them being hurt, why their smile lingers in my mind long after they’re gone.

I’ve even gone as far as to read about it in novels from Inazuma, though I’ll admit most of them are overly dramatic. Still… I couldn’t help but see myself in the pages. And now I can’t ignore it anymore.

This is love, isn’t it? I can’t believe it took me so long to realize. But… it’s oddly comforting, too, to finally understand why I feel this way. It all feels clearer now.

… I can’t let it end like this. I’ll speak to them, no matter what it takes.

(You and Diluc) Character story: Confessions

The day was drawing to a close, and the horizon burned with hues of amber and crimson as the sun dipped below the mountains. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting.

They didn’t know why they were running—only that their feet carried them forward. Wind gracing their hair, tugging at their clothes, and each breath coming quick and sharp with the patter of their feet. Were they running to the winery? They haven’t really thought about it. They were just chasing the closest thing that felt like home.

Inside the manor, Diluc sat at his desk, quill hovering over an unfinished report. He’d been staring at the same sentence for far too long, his mind elsewhere. His eyes kept straying to the lamp grass resting in a small vase—“For when nights are long, and the weight feels heavy—may these remind you that you’re not alone.”

In a breath, the quill laid flat on his desk, ink leaving a stain that may or may not come off. He didn’t care, though—he had other business to attend to. One that could change his life, for better or for worse.

As he ran, he thought of what to say. He’d gone over the words a dozen times in his head, but nothing ever seemed quite right. Every thought felt too small, too simple to convey the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

The crimson sky had turned to blue, stars slowly forming like the constellations they once had. They both remembered that night—their head on his shoulder with only nature to accompany them, silent, and sanctified.

The moon hung low in the sky by the time they crossed paths on the dirt road. Neither had planned for this exact moment, yet it felt inevitable, as if fate itself had intervened.

They stopped a few paces apart, both breathless—Diluc from his hurried strides, and them from their sprint. For a moment, neither spoke. The quiet hum of the wind wrapped around them, heavy with all the words they hadn’t yet said.

“I…” they muttered, but their voice caught. After a breath or two, they spoke again: “I didn’t think I’d run into you.”

“I could say the same.” Diluc’s eyes softened as the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Though… perhaps I hoped for it.”

Their breath hitched at his words, and they looked away, unsure of what to say. They hadn’t expected this—hadn’t pictured him to be so calm, so open. The reality of seeing him here, in the flesh, was almost overwhelming.

“I don’t even know why I came,” they confessed, voice trembling. “I just… I missed—“ they hesitated admitting they missed him. It terrified them—how one word could strip away everything they’d worked so hard to hide, yet hold the power to give them everything they wanted.

They swallowed hard, the silence between them growing heavier, and tried again. “I missed… the winery. Adelinde. The flowers. The peace of it all.”

But the lie tasted bitter, and they knew he saw through it. Diluc waited, silent and patient, as though he knew the truth would come, in time.

“I missed you,” they finally whispered, their voice breaking. The confession escaped before they could stop it, leaving them vulnerable and exposed. Their heart raced, the fear of rejection and relief of honesty crashing into each other.

“I’m sorry…” they added, one reckless word after the other. “For being so careless, for not understanding that you were only trying to protect me—for everything.

“I thought I did the right thing, leaving the manor. I told myself I needed space. But since then, all I can think about was you. I couldn’t stop looking forward to our lunch dates, to the moments you’d pass by the flower shop, to even catching a glimpse of that slight smirk of yours.

“And it’s all so infuriating,” they continued, voice gaining strength, yet still trembling with frustration and longing. “Because I look at you with that unreadable expression of yours, and it’s like you don’t care. You’re always so calm, so distant, like nothing ever fazes you. It’s maddening!

“Even when we were together, it was the same. You always tried to shoulder everything alone, hiding behind that stoic exterior. I could never tell if you were trying to protect me or push me away. And now…” Their voice wavered, and they dropped their gaze, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions spilling out. “Now, I don’t even know if you missed me at all. Or if I was just someone you had to look after.”

They hadn’t noticed how Diluc closed the gap between them until they felt a gloved hand caress their hair. “I cared.” They looked up at him with a somber expression. “More than I should. And I still do.” Diluc’s eyes had changed. The unreadable mask they had always found so frustrating had slipped, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“I tried to convince myself it was better this way,” he continued, his voice low but steady. “That keeping my distance would protect you—from the burdens I carry, and the dangers that follow me. And though I wasn’t completely wrong,” he put attention to your scarred arm. “Pushing you away felt worse. For both of us.”

He hesitated, his thumb brushing against their cheek as if grounding himself. “You were never just someone I had to look after. You are… everything I’ve been too afraid to lose. I thought keeping my feelings buried would keep you safe, but all it did was drive you away.”

His voice softened further, but the intensity of his words only grew. “I can’t bury it anymore. I won’t.”

Their breath hitched, tears pooling in their eyes as he stepped closer, his other hand reaching to gently hold theirs. His grip was firm, steady, and yet full of care—just like him.

“You have undone me completely,” he said, his voice shaking with the weight of his emotions, “and I have no desire to be put back together.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and profound, and the sincerity in his eyes left no room for doubt. In that moment, the barriers between them shattered, replaced by a warmth that enveloped them both.

Tears slipped down their cheeks, but they smiled through them, their heart full for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ve been undone, too,” they whispered, fragile yet filled with hope. “And I don’t want to be whole without you.”

The stars above, as well as the wind, bore witness as they stood there, hands entwined, finally allowing their hearts to speak what had been unsaid for far too long.

—end—

[zoswriting]

✦ baby babbles

⤷ synopsis : your husband had left for a week for a mission, and your baby had a lot to say about it…

⤷ a/n : i saw a video on tiktok where a guy just came back from the army, and his daughter was conveying her… distaste for his leave in unintelligible words, and i just thought “that’s shoto.” now we’re here.

⤷ warnings : fluff, f!reader, husband!shoto, dad!shoto, you have a five month old daughter, use of pet names—‘my love’, ‘love’, ‘sweetheart’, plus some other cute ones. overall, just a very cute fic. enjoy!

you weren’t expecting your husband to be home today. not at all. if anything, you could’ve sworn he’d be back in at least another three days. but, here he is—standing outside of your house in his navy blue hero costume, adorned with its signature silver-and-red accents. you stand there, mouth agape, and all he does is just smiles; that silly little lopsided smile that only you get the very privilege of seeing. you really shouldn’t be shocked that he’s right there, but for some reason, you definitely need a moment to take him in. your eyes flicker up then down, and then immediately catch sight of the flowers he’s holding. god, this man.

you probably would’ve immediately ran and jumped onto him, straight into his arms as soon as you saw the slightest peek of red and white hair through the frosted glass window in your door, but that’s a little hard to do when you have a very wriggly five month old who you’re holding on your hip. speaking of which, as soon as she catches sight of her dad, she immediately starts talking—and by talking, i mean babbling and saying things that only she could understand.

“hi, my love,” shoto murmurs as he pulls you into him with his free hand—the one not holding the flowers—and kissing the top of your head. the child in your arms whines at her lack of affection, so he leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek, earning a heart-melting giggle from her.

“hi, jesus. sorry, i—god, i wasn’t expecting you. i’d hug you properly, but that’s kinda hard to do right now,” you finally get out, looking down to the wiggly thing on your hip, who’s trying desperately to get her father to hold her whilst still rambling on. “i think she’s trying to tell you how sad she is that you left us both,” you tease, raising your head to look back at him, just to be met with an eye roll.

“‘left you both’, hm? i was gone five days, sweetheart,” he chuckles lowly, in that tone that you’ve been missing way too much, it’s almost pathetic. he sets the flowers down on the entryway table before picking up your child in his arms, gently holding her above his head. he raises an eyebrow at her incessant coos. “uh-huh. i know, i’m awful for leaving both you and your mother alone, aren’t i?” his voice is soft as he speaks to your kid; it never fails to make a love-sick grin spread right across your face.

you decide then that you should probably put your daughter to bed—you were just about to before he showed up, anyway—so you quickly rush off to her nursery and do your best to settle her down as fast and easily as you can, your body practically buzzing with excitement at the thought of your husband being home after so long. she’s a good baby, not one to fuss when it’s time to put her down, and it’s then when she’s asleep that you realise she really does look like her father. they have the same sleepy expression.

by the time you hurry yourself down the stairs, shoto’s already moving towards you, capturing you in a tight hug. you wrap your arms around his torso and bring him in even closer until not even a sheet of paper can fit between the two of you. he mumbles a soft “god, i’ve missed you,” into your hair before pulling back slightly, just enough to finally get your plush lips on his.

“i missed you more,” you reply against his lips, sighing at the sheer proximity that you’ve been craving for so long. you stand there for a while, not moving, just staying in each other’s embrace. you can hear your baby quietly babbling to herself in her sleep.

[hannahssimblr]

Astrid, 

Hope you got my postcard from Phuket, and that the Bangkok one shows up, eventually. Maybe it is actually lost, like maybe I’m doing something wrong at the post office. It’s fine if they all go into the abyss. I am writing just to write, because it feels romantic or whatever. You probably hate the idea of this. I could just text you. I texted you forty-five minutes ago. Still miss you. 

We’re in Phi Phi now. Islands, very beautiful. I bet you already know about them, but I’d never heard about this place before I came here. The landscape is kind of mental, like giants made it. Weird to look at. We went out on a little boat yesterday to see the sights. Jonas jumped off and swam, and I did not. My tattoo is still healing. Stupid fucking thing. I waved over a boat of girls and told them Jonas was saying he fancied them, and then he got annoyed with me, because he wasn’t saying that, and he was embarrassed. I think he should learn to talk to women without wanting to die, and he says I think about women too much, that I’m too invested and I should think about something else. History, philosophy, whatever. Why would I when there are women like you on the earth?

At night, instead of going out and drinking, we go to bed early, in our bunks, him on the top, me below like always, and he tells me all this shit about the Suez canal, or what the Falklands war was all about, since I was stupid enough to ask a follow up question once. Then I fall asleep to escape the boredom. We get up at six and do activities, then. Lots of walking. My body hurts. 

Jonas finally tried those scorpions he was banging on about, and now he’s sick, btw. Food poisoning. I don’t really know how to take care of him, except coming back to the hostel every few hours, making sure he has water. Until he’s better, I guess I’m just wandering around on my own. Luckily, it’s nice to look at. Maybe today I’ll swim with my arm out of the water. Running out of space. Love and miss you can't wait to see you.

xxx Jude. 

I snap open the lid of a bottle of water and carry it into the hostel room. It smells bad there, but I’ve stopped saying it, because it makes Jonas look like he’s about to cry. He’s curled up on his bunk, a complexion like curdled yoghurt, as a chink of morning light spills through the blinds and over his shivering body. Mostly naked. Too hot, then too cold, then sipping water, then throwing it up. I hover in the doorway. 

“I’ve water,” I say, and he just stares. Resigned, half-dead, maybe. “Should you go to hospital or something, do you think?”

“No, I feel slightly better.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want the water, or?”

“Yes. Bring it to me.”

I approach him like a leper, not sure why, as I’m fully aware he’s not contagious, but it’s been ten days since I’ve thrown up, and I’d like to maintain my healthy aura. He regards me with bleary eyes as I back away. “It is good you are an artist and not a nurse.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not so good with illness.”

“Even though you are always ill.” A tentative sip from the bottle. “You went out this morning?”

“To the post office.”

“Another postcard to Astrid.”

“Yes.”

I can tell he wants to laugh but lacks strength, managing only a feeble wheeze. “Is she missing you as much as you are missing her?”

“No, I don’t think so. She’s much better at distance.”

“She’s an independent person.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what she is doing today.”

“It’s Wednesday, so probably going to reformer pilates. Then she’s supposed to meet a friend from university for lunch. After that, I don’t know. Something spontaneous and thrilling, probably.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

He manages a watery smile. “You’ll be doing nothing again today? Missing her?”

“I was thinking I might wade into the sea, actually. Keep walking out until I disappear, wailing after Astrid like the pathetic little freak I am.”

“It’s Wednesday?”

“Yes, Wednesday.”

“I signed up for something today.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be going, by the cut of you.”

“No,” giving up on the water for now, he rolls onto his back, watching insects congregate around the plastic light fixture. “You could go in my place. It’s a… meditation thing.”

I pull a face. “Meditation? That thing where you sit cross-legged and go like ‘om’?” I demonstrate, but feel bad for making him laugh. Apparently a bit painful for him. 

“Yes,” he says. “Kind of. You might find value in it.”

“Is that the kind of guy you think I am? With like, dirty feet and harem pants?”

“Since I am the one who signed up, is it the kind of person you think I am?”

“Not far off.”

“Well, meditation has many benefits. It’s not just for the dirty-feet-squad. It’s good for people who suffer with various mental health concerns, and people who have racing thoughts they cannot stop and such things. Maybe it will inspire you to stop thinking about women’s breasts.”

I scoff. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

“So you can think of more productive things that will inform you, and grow your mind rather than rotting it away.”

“Like the Falklands war, for instance.”

“Yes, like the Falklands war,” he says, suddenly animated. “Thank you for saying that. Or the targeting of Libyan migrant workers on suspicion of being mercenaries by—”

I take a brisk and decisive step out of the room. “Well! Glad you’re feeling better, Jonas. See you later. Keep drinking that water, et cetera.” I swing the door shut and amble away, down the hostel hallway and back to the beach, rearing for another day of nothing, bored senseless by the edge of a lonely ocean.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Here’s some for hanging out the very very fun prom fic!! 🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩

- Sarah

Thank you!

120 or 1k for 🪩:

---

“Okay,” Eddie replies. But he doesn’t look happy with this answer. 

Buck is frustrated by that, actually. He can’t just be tired? After the day he’s had? They have to talk about it right now? Maybe that’s hypocritical. Buck is usually the one pressing Eddie to talk. But can’t they just… Wait until morning? Fuck. 

“Okay?” Buck repeats.

“Yeah…” Eddie frowns. “I just… I just wanted to make sure we’re good.”

“Why wouldn’t we be good?” Buck asks. 

“Because today was weird and you’re currently speaking to me like I’m your adversary on a daytime court television show?”

Shit. He is sort of doing that, isn’t he? 

Buck sighs loudly. 

“Eddie, I have just had three incredibly frustrating days in a row, and I’ve been extending myself a lot lately, and I want to go to sleep, okay? That’s all I want. I’m not upset.”

Eddie offers him a sort of sympathetic frown. 

“You’ve been doing a lot,” Eddie says. “And I broke my foot at the worst possible time. I’m sorry I can’t help you more right now.”

Buck shakes his head. “It’s not even close to being your fault.”

“That doesn’t really change it, though,” Eddie says. “It sucks.”

“Yeah,” Buck says. His throat is tightening. His eyes feel a little watery. Fuck. “I just, uh… I really want things to go well.”

“I know you do,” Eddie nods. “But things are great, right? Apart from the broken foot and the busted Jeep?”

Well, he’s right. He’s right, but…

“But I…” Buck struggles. “I want to make sure Chris has the best prom experience he can. And I want to make sure we have the perfect wedding. And it really shouldn’t be this hard, but shit keeps going wrong!”

“It’s not all in your control,” Eddie says. “You know that.”

Buck wipes his eyes. “Yeah, but…”

Eddie puts his hands on Buck’s shoulders. “But nothing, Buck. Chris is going to have a great prom. We’re going to have a great wedding. It’s all okay. I promise.”

“Sorry,” Buck mumbles. “Sorry. I’m losing it a little.”

Eddie smiles, sympathetic. “That’s okay. We’ll give you a clipboard detox after and it’ll all be okay.”

Buck laughs and cries in tandem. “Do you know what the worst part is?”

“What?” Eddie asks. 

“I feel like I kind of understand where Ainslee is coming from.”

Eddie laughs brightly. “You? Really? No.” 

“Shut up,” Buck sniffs. “It’s not funny.”

“Well, it sort of is. Only if you’re just realizing now.”

“Stop,” Bug begs, unseriously. 

“Hey,” Eddie chuckles. “I get it. I can’t imagine the three of you in one vehicle.”

“You have to come with me next time,” Buck says.

“Oh, not until we’re married,” Eddie jokes. “For better or worse doesn’t start until then.” 

“You’re the worst,” Buck complains.

Eddie grins. “Can I see my surprise?”

“Absolutely not,” Buck shakes his head. “That’s for my husband. You’re just someone who won’t join me on the errands trip from hell.”

“True enough,” Eddie retorts, smirking. “Will you come to bed? I think tomorrow will be better.”

Buck takes a deep breath and nods.

“I’m not doing anything. Not a damn thing.”

“You deserve that,” Eddie agrees. 

Days to Prom: 1

Eddie has a surprisingly great sleep. Despite his foot, he’s comfortable and blissfully warm, all curled into Buck. This is much better than sleeping alone, like he thought he would that night. 

Buck needed to have that little meltdown, he thinks. He has a lot on his plate, and a lot to get off his chest. There’s a lot of stress, it turns out, in planning a happily ever after. Very different from the first wedding, where the stress was in trying to make everything seem like it wasn’t a rushed, pressured disaster. Maybe that’s why he’s so much less stressed than Buck. Regardless of what happens here, they really are marrying each other for the exact right reasons. He has nothing to worry about, even if the day falls somewhere short of perfect. Though, somehow he doubts it will.

[flowerhashira-kanae]

(Ah okay! Thanks!!)

“Lady Tamayo and Yushiro? You were told about them as well. I thought only Shinobu, myself, and my family knew about them. I guess it makes sense that the master would tell the other hashira of them and our work so it doesn’t seem suspicious. I’ll have to ask Tamayo about this.” She thinks about how everything seemed to be falling into place too easily. She was still a little cautious of everyone here given the circumstances. She wished she would’ve brought Kanao or something. “Hm….I’ve never met a real medium and I don’t think I’ve heard the term tamer used often either. That sounds like something they’d call Tanjiro for making so many friends with such hostile people and creatures.” She laughs and little before stopping herself. That last part was more of an inside thought that got out. She looks at them a little embarrassed. “I apologize.” She continues to listen to them. “I think for their privacy yes it would be best to go inside but I will be on my guard at any wrong move.” She knew that they could probably already tell that by the way she was speaking and how stiff she appeared compared to normal but she knew that she didn’t want to lie to them by giving them false hope with her smile. “Yes I understand. A lot of demons had not so great lives and that’s why they are here today. A demon I met had been turned just because of an illness he had and he thought he was doing the right thing for his family by changing….” She looks away as she recounts Rui’s story. She didn’t want to continue in fear of tearing up. She takes a deep breath before putting her smile back on. “It’s very nice to meet you Asaki. I’m Kanae. I hope that you all are happier now with your new homes and your chosen family.” She shakes his paw and tries not to laugh at his tail wagging and hitting Tsubaki. She lets his hand go after a bit and looks at the older girl. She wasn’t very frightened by any of these children. They were not any more deformed than a normal demon and she had definitely seen uglier and scarier things/demons while being a demon slayer. “Don’t worry you all didn’t startle me. Demons are a thing I see on a regular basis so nothing really spooks me too much. Except spiders,” she mumbles that last part. “Though I’m very glad to have met you all and I hope we can be friends along the way.” She didn’t want to tell them about Rui yet in fear of anything going bad she didn’t want him to get hurt no matter how strong he is.

*A red fox with a camellia flower red collar and a messenger bag scampers up to you before barking softly to get your attention, perhaps the little creature has something for you?*

She looks down at the smaller creature with a gentle smile. “Hello there little one how can I help you today?” She reaches her hand down slowly to let the little fox sniff her and get her scent.

[sexologii]

not to be mushy, but sometimes I see my little underdogs on this show, and they’re just so tired from the game and they’re having a moment of being down and they’re ready to throw in the towel, and I sit behind my screen saying “there’s a lot of game left to play, don’t give up just yet” and then in my life, I’m just having a period of being extremely down and I’m just so ready to give up on everything and I don’t know, there’s a lot of life left to live

[busiest-bee]

Freaked him up. He can (and Will) get freakier (if I can manage to actually draw that LMAO

I have Got to make Ribeye freakier

[lexalovesbooks]

I’ll never get over how funny it is that the reason Teraeth reincarnated as one of the hellwarriors was because Atrin saw the man he was in love with (has literally never spoken to him ever in 500 years) and the woman he was in love with (he’s convinced she hates his guts) (knows they have some kind of affection for each other but is unclear on the details) volunteer one after the other and went ‘oh I cannot let them reincarnate together without me’ like yes he was emperor for five hundred years and undeniably changed the world yes he was an incredible warrior and strategist in his own right. Yes he volunteered to save the world because his crushes did it first and he didn’t want to be left out. Funniest guy ever.

[andro-dino]

big eared bros

[girlishwhimsies]

do you ever think about the pure grief that hits the curtis brothers when they see something that reminds them of their parents cause i sure do

[bibleofficial]

so i finally learned the beautiful man i met in may w the cancer, wasn’t away / busy bc of treatment like i thought he just. decided it was his time to go

[dooxliss]

Gari Gari, my good friend Gari. Can I please please get an H3 Mr. L? 👀

(send a mario character and an expression!)

hate this guy /j