#Now I barely have time to draw! This is draining the life out of me. But being a Capricorn I can’t ignore the money✨🤩

[lovelooksgudonu]

[aidaronan]

"First movie you ever saw in theaters?" Steve lounged opposite of Robin on the couch in his living room, the stereo on low, spitting out Madonna on the local radio station.

"Oh, that's easy." Robin bit off part of a licorice. "Freaky Friday. I remember because I was terrified for weeks that I'd end up switching places with my mom and have to, like, balance a checkbook or something."

Steve laughed, separating m&ms in his hand. "You still don't know how to balance a checkbook, do you?"

"Like you do." Robin playfully glared at him. "Okay, here's a good one. First kiss."

Steve ate the sole blue m&m first, a grin spreading across his face because he usually lied about his first kiss, but he didn't have to. Not with Robin. "Camp Stronghold when I was nine. We met up in the boathouse after lights out to trade contraband."

"Contraband, huh?" Robin raised her brows.

"Candy. I swear my parents loaded me up like I was going to prison. 'This is as good as cash in there, Steven.' I think my dad wanted me to network or something. Because, you know, I was totally gonna start a small business with a group of eight-year-olds."

Robin snickered. "And the kiss?"

"Ah. I didn't actually want candy. I just wanted this kid to like me so bad, and I didn't know why until we were there in the dark tripping into each other because we couldn't see. I had all these butterflies, and we were standing close enough that I could feel the heat off his sunburn in the air." Steve could still picture it. The way he couldn't see more than a few inches in front of his face. "Then he kissed me, just this quick peck on the lips before he turned tail and ran. I left the boathouse with a Snickers and one massive first crush."

"Did anything else happen?" Robin asked.

"No. It was the last week of camp and I think he freaked himself out over it. I don't know. He didn't even really say bye to me after we climbed off the bus to meet our parents. Never saw him again. I honestly never even thought to get his name."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. I just hope he's doing okay, you know? That he's got people in his life that make him feel like he's allowed."

Robin looked at him softly, reaching out to give his ankle a squeeze. "Hey, you never know. You might run into him again someday. Maybe he's your soulmate or something."

"Please. I think you're pretty obviously my soulmate." Steve nudged Robin with his foot. "But I guess he could settle for 2nd place."

"Oh, there's a toast for sure." Snacks tumbling off her lap, Robin reached for her can of Coke on the coffee table and raised it as high as she could reach. "To both of us finding our 2nd places."

"Cheers to that." Steve thrust his own Coke into the air.

____

It felt like a big cosmic joke that Steve would be in a boathouse when he realized who Eddie Munson had been all that time. Eddie had looked so different when he'd transferred into Hawkins that Steve had never even given him a second look, not during their shared classes, not during any of those cafeteria tirades. Not during the numerous occasions where he gave the kids rides to D&D.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!"

It was the eyes that finally pulled back the curtain and cut away all those in-between years. Steve had never been close enough to clock them, but he couldn't deny them now. Not at such close range, Eddie holding a broken bottle against his neck, trembling with so much fear that Steve worried he might actually use it.

Dropping the oar from his own shaking hands, Steve said the only thing he could think to say.

"Well, this brings back memories."

Eddie didn't respond, the fear in the air drawing out every second, making it feel infinite. Behind them and in another universe, Dustin said a bunch of stuff Steve barely heard for the pounding in his ears. He watched beads of sweat roll down Eddie's forehead and waited for something to give.

Like clouds fat with rain, Eddie finally broke open, tension draining out of him, arm and weapon dropping to his side. He exhaled a shaky breath, maintaining eye contact, his expression too complicated for Steve to fully read.

Steve was about to say something else when Eddie finally spoke, cocking his head to the side and leveling Steve with a look.

"And here I spent all these years thinking you forgot."

[accihoe]

Still The Most Beautiful to me

Pairing: Current!James Hetfield x fem!reader

Summary: Cheering him up when he feels that you're too young and good for him.

Warnings: Two swear words.

A/n: He makes me want to rip all my hair out and scream he's so beautiful.

Also in this story Y/N is a virgin. You can decide on the age gap in your mind, but be conscious that as I write this I am talking about two adults, well over 25. If you'd like to imagine a younger Y/N, that's on you.

Xxxx

She could see it from where she sat across from him in the hotel room's lounge; James's thoughts were getting the better of him.

He sat in the white loveseat, left ankle resting over his right knee, knuckles of his right hand pressed under his chin as said elbow rested on his thigh.

His lips pouted, along with a deep crease between his brows. As sexy as he looked in that pose dressed in all black, Y/N could see the worry etched into his frown, the droop of his shoulders.

Unable to watch a moment longer of her man in despair, Y/N crossed the lounge and went to him, joining him on the loveseat. She rested her hand on his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze to draw his attention.

"Hey, you alright?"

She whispered. He exhaled, nodding his head, seemingly dazed. It was as if her presence snapped him out of a trance. Y/N gave James a worried glance, wondering what could be bothering him. Was it to do with the tour? Was it to do with the missing luggage? Were his children alright?

"Jamie, talk to me."

She pleaded, and he rubbed a hand across his face before turning to her with a tired smile.

"I'm alright,"

His voice was hoarse from the little use and the morning's cigar. He moved his hand to rest across hers, sparks igniting within his stomach at the feeling if her skin. Those sparks, however, were drained with the dreadful feeling of guilt. His eyes raked across her face, observing her features, taking them in as if for the last time.

"Hey,"

She brought her hand up to his face, cupping his jaw, a frown now carved into her face as well. James put his free hand over hers, stroking her skin with his thumb. '

"You're so beautiful."

He whispered, barely audible. A smile took over Y/N's face, but it did little to deter the worry.

"James."

She gave his cheek a little pinch, dragging him from the hole his mind was creeping into. His eyes glanced over her again, taking in every detail of her figure. Y/N's pulse started to increase, worried about whatever she could see he was about to say.

"I need to talk to you about something."

His eyes met hers again, and he pulled away, shifting back a bit as if to get a better view of her. Y/N's stomach dropped and her mouth went dry, she leaned her hand on the loveseat, nodding. He inhaled sharply, eyes darting to her left hand that he so yearned to adorn with a band and a ring.

"I-... I don't..."

He sighed once again, hand reaching out to hold hers lightly, she gave his hand a light squeeze.

"Y/N you're so, so beautiful. Inside and out. You're an amazing woman. Smart, kind, caring, funny, fun to be around, and did I mention beautiful?"

He chuckled lightly at his joke, and Y/N squeezed a small smile.

"And me... I'm not what I used to be. Not by a long shot. I'm old, and fading. I know that no matter what age I was, or will be, you'd have been and will always be the most beautiful to me. You'd always have been and always will be the one I adore the most."

Hope started to flicker within her chest as he spoke. Was he going to propose? His next statement, however, shattered her heart.

"But Y/N... I'm ran through. I'm old and dilapidated. You being with me, is the best gift I could've been given, especially at this age. But I can't continue to hold you back anymore. You've got a whole life ahead of you to live, and I don't want to be the old meat weighing you down. You deserve someone young and vibrant, someone closer to your age. I love you, I love you so much. I always will. And shit it's killing me to have to do this... But... I-I think it's time I let you go. Let you live your life."

She knew better than to interrupt him and tell him how utterly wrong he was, she knew that he needed to get what was inside his head off his chest. Toward the end, the last two sentences, his voice dropped to below a whisper, throat straining as he fought back tears. Her silence cracked him inside, and he withdrew his hand, wanting to get up.

"James,"

She eventually breathed, moving on the loveseat to sit right up against him, hands reaching up to cup his face. Delicate and beautiful. She gently turned his face to look at her, eyes searching across his face.

"I love you. And there is nothing you can say or do to change that. I chose you, remember? I was the one who influenced this relationship. If I thought that you'd hold me back, I never would've went to you at the wine tasting in the first place-"

"You may not see it or feel that way, but I know that I am. I'm dragging you down. I'm ripening you before your age, Y/N/N. With me you're going to settle down soon, you'll be a mother even before you've lost your virginity, well step mother, but still a mother. You're closer in age to my kids. So with me, you'll just about be fulfilling grandmother duties. Instead of partying on the weekends you'll be stuck at home, or out hunting with me, or something boring to you-"

"James Alan Hetfield. Shut your mouth. Who ever said that I didn't enjoy 'grandma duties'? And who ever said that I want to be out partying on the weekends? I enjoy the life that we have, James. I enjoy being domesticated. And most of all, I enjoy doing it with you."

"But even if you do enjoy all that it doesn't defeat the object of my physical being. I'm not who or what I used to be. I don't look the same. You're a fresh and beautiful ripe grape, and I'm a raisin-"

"Hey, you listen here to me. You are still the most beautiful man in the whole wide world to me. You are the most beautiful man I have laid my eyes on. You are so much more handsome than you realize, James. You are divine, inside and out. You, James Hetfield, have aged like that expensive wine that prompted us to meet. With every year added to your age you just get more and more attractive and delicious. I promise. Shoot me dead right now if I'm lying. You truly are so, so beautiful."

His eyes had begun to gloss over with tears, relieved by her words, and his hands came up to gently clasp around her wrists.

"And I know that you feeling this way was most likely influenced by the media. But I want you to remember this, James. I am not in a relationship with the media, the press, the public, tabloids, Instagram or anything. I'm in a relationship with you. So I frankly could not care less about their opinions. All I care about is you, James. So if you feel the need to let me go, and it is entirely your own decision, then I will respect that. Otherwise, I'm staying put."

By the end of what she had to say he gave up on holding in the tears, by the end of all that he was sure he could be comfortable around her. A soft smile broke out over Y/N's face and she leaned closer, nudging James' nose with hers. She kissed him gently, and his eyes fluttered shut. For the first time in years, he fully allowed himself to accept and embrace the love given to him. He no longer feared a potential breakup when things don't go as planned, when a hurdle comes to path. He knew that together, they'd jumped over the hurdle together, hand in hand.

She was the first to pull away, stroking his tears away with her thumbs.

"Please come to me when you need me, I promise I'll be there to the best of my abilities. I love you."

She sealed her promise with a kiss between his brows, ironing out the crease. James smiled, brighter than he had in a while and took her hand, kissing her left knuckles. She got up, taking her phone, he frowned in confusion with a tentative smile.

"Sit like you were just now, with your ankle over your knee and your chin on your fist- yes, just like that."

James shifted, sniffing and fixing his hair when he realized what she was doing, and put on his 'handsome thinking expression'. She took a photo before joining him on the loveseat.

"Look at you, model. You're hotter than all of those Victoria's Secret chicks combined."

She grinned, showing him the photo. James took the phone, holding it far enough to see, and a smile spread across his features.

"Send that to me, please."

She put her phone aside, moving to sit on his lap, and draped her arms across his shoulders.

"We're not done with this topic yet, sweetheart."

She'd adapted to using his pet names. His hands moved to lightly rest on the base of her spine.

"I love you. I love everything about you. I want you to always be aware of that. And please don't ever think that you are weighing me down, or keeping me from things. If I want to do something, I will. But I'll have you as my partner. That's the only difference. And obviously I don't expect you to go along with everything, but I expect you to know that not once have you ever held me back from doing something I wanted to do. Alright?"

James nodded, gazing up at her with a gentle smile. Her hands moved to cradle his neck and the back of his head as he pulled her into a tight hug, face tucked into the crook of her neck.

"I love you so damn much."

"I love you too, more than you'll ever know."

xxxx

Fin. If I'm correct I think this is my first publicly posted James fic. Hope it was good :)

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Ten: [The Potato Head Society & The Other Guy, Jarred?]

Summary: Jake helps you shave your head in hopes of keeping your power and control. Facing your own mortality makes you question your faith in a higher authority and Jensen and Jake met for the first, and what you hope, will be the last time.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion

Word Count: 4.2K

Author Note: It's no secret I've been having a little bit of a rough go on this hell-site as of late. But I'm still here, working on this series. Seeing your weblogs, comments and concepts truly mean the world to me. so please, don't be hesitant to share.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“My only real advice for this kind of thing is this.” Jensen sighed as he stood on the steps of his townhouse with you. Coffee in one hand, end of life brochure in the other. Things had taken a rather drastic turn for him in the last few days. After your birthday, his health started to drastically diminish–so much so that his doctors weren’t too sure how much time there was left to combat the cancerous cells spreading through his body. “Go right through it.” Jensen smiled, never once did you ever see his positivity falter. “Like right through it, feel it all, be in it, don't avoid it because the moment you start avoiding it is when it's truly won.” 

Little Sammy held your hand as you stood next to Jensen–he was too young to understand that the man talking to you was dying, hell, you weren't even sure if you understood the significance of the pamphlet Jensen had picked up after your first CCA meeting. He’d told you it was for a friend, little did you know that friend was standing right in front of you. 

The Cancer Counseling Association held biweekly meetings at the hospital. You hadn’t planned on attending when your oncologist, Doctor Morrison, had first mentioned it. But when Jensen said he’d been going almost religiously for three years? You thought, what's the harm? 

The harm was it was depressing as fuck. 

“You go completely in the tough times, feel everything and get out the other end of it all.” You’d asked Jensen something along the lines of how he’d managed to keep fighting all this time and still be so positive about life and all its underwhelming rewards. He was for the most part, a happy guy despite it all. But even the strongest of soldiers have an achilles heel. 

Jensens just so happened to be the fact you were forbidden fruit, he wasn't about to tread on another man's toes. Especially when he was tiptoeing towards the sweet release of death's gentle hands. None of that stopped his heart from racing whenever you smiled though. 

“Many of these things you don't have a choice in.” Jensen continued as his eyes lingered down to little two year old Sammy who stood holding your hand in his. If anything you needed the encouragement to fight this battle for your children. “You know, fuck, whats that expression?” Jensen mulled it over as you chuckled, still standing on the path right outside his street facing townhouse. “Uhh–oh yeah! It's not how well you walked through the fire, but how you walked through it regardless.” 

“I think I'm just barely crawling through the flames right now–” You answered honestly. There wasn't a nice way to say he’d looked better than he did right now, with sunken eyes and skin that looked as if all the life had been drained from his soul. 

So you never mentioned it. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“So—“ The library wasn’t Jake Seresins favourite place to go, but there was someone who made the isles of hard covered literature easier to understand that always seemed to draw him in. Like a moth to a flame. “Did you have a good Christmas?” The silence that followed as you stared across the desk where you were processing returned textbooks had Jake's heart racing, he couldn’t read you and that fact made him all the more nervous. “Or not? If you’re Jewish maybe? Don’t celebrate Christmas that’s cool too I just thought—“ You had to giggle at the college football star standing across from the reception desk with his elbows leaning on the ledge. Your smile was pure happiness, it wasn’t hard to make Jake's heart melt inside his chest—a chest he once thought was hollow. 

“I had a wonderful Christmas, I went home to visit my mum, she always says that if the Christians can steal Christmas from the pagans then us non-religious folk can celebrate too.” You shrugged your shoulders politely as you kept checking off the returned textbooks from students who’d taken them home over the summer. 

“What do you mean when you say the Christians stole Christmas?” Jake Seresin grew up in an incredibly conservative, extremely religious household that attended church every Sunday rain hail or shine. Jake swore his mother nearly spontaneously combusted when he had to stay in hospital overnight after having his appendix removed. It was a Saturday afternoon when they’d presented to the emergency room—poor old Janeen nearly dropped dead at the mere thought of her ten year old missing church the next morning. 

“Lord have mercy upon us, for we have sinned.” Jake could still remember his mother crying vividly when he woke after surgery. Even at ten he knew his mother was somewhat of an overly sensitive soul. 

“Well technically, in order to convert the Germanic pagans who, like, celebrated the winter solstice and stuff—the Christians were like, fuck it, let’s just say that Jesus was born on this day and you can hang tinsel and stuff.” Again, you shrugged your shoulders like it was common knowledge, but as Jake stared down at you with confusion swirling in his emerald eyes, you thought for a split second that maybe this was actually news to the college athlete who’d been following you around for the better half of nine months. Respectfully. 

“You can’t just change someone’s birthday like that? Can you?” Jake, in all his years of attending Sunday services, Sunday Schools, being forced to read the bible and knowing far too much about parting seas and burning bushes, he’d never once been told that Christmas was just a day. 

“It’s kinda like how King James was rewriting the bible on one side of the castle and had witches trying to turn his pee into gold on the other.” Jake was speechless as you looked up at him from your chair, your eyes seemingly swirling with knowledge beyond your years. It made sense that you worked in the library on campus. 

“How the hell do you know all this?” Jake asked through a sheepish smile he couldn’t hide, your intelligence intimated him in the best of ways. You made him want to do better, be better, strive for more in life. It wasn’t that Jake wasn’t smart, he was. But next to you? It was an unparalleled excellence. 

“I uh—I tend to read a lot.” Jake caught the way you faded into yourself, never one to want to outshine others. “Just get lost in here sometimes, books are sometimes easier to understand than people.” Jake could sympathise with that sentiment, he knew what it was like to feel like everyone was watching, judging a book by its cover so to speak. Everyone knew him as the meathead footballer who’s weekends were spent racking up the body count. 

But with you? Jake just felt like Jake. Because that’s who he was to you. Simply and forever Jake. 

“Do you like, not believe in God or something Miss Y/l/n?” Jake asked cautiously. He didn’t want to offend you or come across as rude or anything—he was simply asking a question he thought he may need to know if he was ever going to introduce you to his mother. 

“I find it hard to believe in a world full of stories about Gods and Goddesses from a plethora of different perspectives that there can only be one, if one exists they all have to right? Harmoniously and complacent with the way the universe has fallen to shit without their divine intervention.” Jake had to take a moment to take what you had just said in. He was almost rendered speechless, but not quite. Not Jake Seresin. 

“Damn Honeybee, you’re fucking fearless aren’t you?“ Jake couldn’t help but to smirk as he tried to keep his voice down. “You’re just raw doggin’ life with no religious affiliations.” It was then your turn to laugh. 

“Guess I am. What about you? Do you believe in a God? An all mighty man, or woman, that sits in the clouds and judges your every action?” You asked with a teasing smirk as Jake bit his bottom lip, mulling over your question: 

Did he believe in God? 

“My mother would probably prefer if I said yes, but, the more I look at life without the rose coloured glasses I tend to think perhaps the big guy in the sky is all just some story.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Did you know hair holds memories.” The sound of buzzing clippers echoed off the walls of the bathroom as you sat before the mirror. Jake stood behind you with those big emerald eyes you loved so dearly, looking at you with a sympathetic look of understanding and support. “In some cultures people don't even cut their hair because it would upset the gods.” Jake could see the tears in your eyes as you looked at him through the mirror, understandably rambling to somewhat buy yourself some more time. “Medusa's hair was alive, there's certain styles linked to different cultures and full hair cutting ceremonies in–” If Jake didn't interrupt now you would have gone on forever. You had a habit of information dropping in situations where nervousness got the better of you. Not that Jake ever minded, he just knew if he didn't get ahead of it, you wouldn't stop. That would ultimately lead to you sitting in silence when the information swirling around inside her head had all been said. Panic would begin to rise inside your chest, the air would soon get thin, the room would suddenly get a little hotter and before you could even realise you'd be in the midst of a full blown panic attack. 

The last time Jake witnessed such a thing was when Sam had colic. 

“Honey–” Jake cooed as he turned off the clippers he held in his hand, only to place them down on the countertop to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Noone is forcing you to do this, if you don’t wanna cut your hair we don't have to.” 

“No–” You sighed. “No, I want to do this, it's just a lot.” You tried to explain. “It's probably one of the only things I still have control over.” Jake understood, it would be hard not to. After all, he wasn't heartless. If he could Jake would have taken this all away, he would have given anything, including his own life to take your pain away. “I just hope I don't have a weird shaped head.” 

“I'm sure you have a really nice scalp dear.” Jake chuckled as he massaged your shoulder tenderly. “And look, if you want my professional opinion, I think you’ll make an awesome live action Mrs. Potato Head.” 

“Jacob!” You tried to hide your smile as you felt your cheek heating with a hume so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You’re cruel!” 

“But I made you laugh.” Jake countered through a shit eating grin, that signature Seresin smile you loved so much. The very one all three of your children had inherited from their father. “That's all that matters, now–let me work my magic alright, I've got you.” 

“You’re probably a worse hairdresser than you were a husband–” It was a low ball, but Jake took it like a champ as he reached out for the clippers. The buzzing was almost immediate as he used the pad of his thumbs to complete the electrical circuit. With the tool now in full gear, Jake chuckled as he looked at you with fake shock and horror casted across his face. 

“Oh now who's being cruel huh?” Jake watched as your eyes followed his hand that held the clippers. “Technically we’re still married Honey, you still have my last name.” He mumbled under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear, seemingly trying to keep your attention on what he was saying rather than the clippers approaching your head. 

But–you moved:

“Should we cut my hair with scissors first?” 

“Y/n–” Jake sighed as he once again turned off the clippers and placed them back down on the side of the sink. 

“No no no I'm not trying to stall, I just don't want you to accidentally scalp me when my hair gets caught up in the shaver.” Jake saw your point, for the hair you did have left it was pretty thick and full of life still. He held the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Not in frustration towards you, but in defiance of his new quest. 

“I'll go ask the nurses station for some scissors.” 

“Thankyou–” Was all you managed to say back before Jake stepped out of the bathroom attached to your hospital room. The Christmas lights still flickered in the dimly lit room, seemingly consuming the entire room in bright blues, greens, reds and yellows. Even in sickness you couldn't help but to lean into the christmas cheers. 

It hit Jake in that moment as he rounded out of your hospital room that he should get you something small to open when you wake up from surgery. The hospital has a gift shop right? Perhaps some flowers and a small gift you could keep with you during chemo. Maybe a book or a– *Thud* 

Caught up in his own train of thought as he made his way to the nurses station, Jake ran straight into someone coming out of the elevator. There were two very distinct things Jake noticed as he came back into the reality around him. Those distinct things being that the man he’d run into was carrying not only flowers, but a small gift. Huh, uncanny. 

“Sorry man, my bad.” The man apologised almost immediately after the mild impact. 

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” Jake responded with a polite smile his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” Jake reached out to shake the guy's hand, in retrospect he should have kept walking. Jake really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions. 

The most paranoid fantasy Jake could think of would never have prepared him for the name that the man spoke next as he took Jake's hand in his. 

“Jensen–” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Okay, I'm ready.” Neither Jake nor Jensen knew if you had mentioned either one in conversation, so, respectfully, both men chose to play the fool. Neither one really wanted to ask. Neither Jake nor Jensen wanted to be the one to open that can of worms. 

When Jake returned with the borrowed scissors in his grasp–he acted as if he hadn’t just met the man he assumed was the very Jensen in your contacts. 

“Last chance Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Are you positive?” He asked with a smile so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “I’m all in with you, just say the word and we do whatever you wanna do.” 

There was a momentary pause in the conversation. Jake's questions lingered in the air around you, it was hard not to get caught in the moment, get lost in the emerald eyes looking at you through the mirror. Jake stared you down as you shifted in your chair to look at him. He saw no hesitation in your eyes as Jake followed your gaze, searching for any sign or signal that could indicate that the next few moments were about to be a mistake. 

“Honey—“ Jake tried to heed the warning lights flashing before his very eyes as you closed the gap between the two of you. Jake stood leaning over your right shoulder, looking longingly at your lips. “Don’t do anything stupid now.” 

“Loving you is stupidity—“ Was all you said before you let your lips softly connect with your husband’s. Jake kissed you back with enough love in his heart to knock the wind right out of your lungs. The fleeting moment was broken, however, when Jake pulled away. The idea of another man kissing you on his mind, what was this guy's deal? Jackson? Jason? 

“Come on Mrs Potato Head, hand me those scissors—“ Jake chuckled, hiding his own insecurities about the man he’d unintentionally met in the hall. You took a second to keep up, but as you licked your lips to savour the taste of Jake's signature vanilla chapstick, you nodded and handed him the scissors. 

“I’m ready.” You sighed, once again looking back at your own reflection. “Let’s get this over with.” Change is an inevitable part of life, but that fact didn't make the current circumstances any easy to process. “Do you think that there's gonna be a place for me despite my inability to believe in a higher being?” Jake understood what you were saying, but he didn't have the answers. “I'm starting to wonder more about if there could ever be a life after death.” 

Clumps of hair in small sections fell to the tiled floor around you as Jake worked his hands through your hair. Cutting strands from your head like the local mower man cut grass. It felt like such a mundane task to complete, like this was an everyday run of the mill, average experience. But for you? This was a hard and confronting pill to have to swallow. 

“I’ve spent my whole life not believing in religion, so who am I supposed to pray to to keep me alive Jake?” Jake saw the tears in your eyes as he cut your hair with caution and steady hands, he heard the small but audible sobs that escaped your lips as he switched from the scissors to the clippers. The buzzing all but silenced your cries but Jake knew this was hard on you. The tears that stained your cheeks clearly reflected your sadness, anger and the inner turmoil that had been engulfing your entire existence since your diagnosis.

“You don’t pray to anyone Honey, you’re stronger than this cancer could ever be.” Again, no one ever sits you down and prepares you for this. No one gives you the heads up about the possibility of one day having to shave your wife's hair off in the name of dignity and control. But as Jake ran the shavers across your scalp, leaving nothing but a small layer of fuzz in their wake, he saw just how much sorrow and pain was swirling in your eyes. 

Jake thought to himself in that very moment: ‘I've been needing a haircut for a while now anyway.’ 

With one quick motion and in the blink of an eye, Jake was running the shavers right down the middle of his head. You really had to take a second to process what he’d just done, what your husband had just done right behind you. 

“Jake!” The shrill that escaped your mouth was something unmatched to any emotion you had ever expressed before. “What are you doing?” The image of Jake shaving his head in solidarity would forever be burnt into your mind. 

“You said it yourself–hair holds memories and we can make new ones together.” Jake cooed as he shaved off those golden boy locks you loved to run your fingers through. He suited the buzz cut a little more than you did if you were being perfectly honest. 

With teary eyes and puffy cheeks you stood on weak legs. The simple gesture of a haircut meant the world to you, Jake knew that. He didn't want you going through this alone. If shaving his head with you brought you a sense of solace? He was more than happy to. 

“Looks good–” You smiled as tears ran down your cheeks. Jake reached out to cup your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with the pads on his thumbs. “Mr. Potato head.”

“Consider us the founders of the Potato Head Society.” Jake chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. In order to cherish you the way you deserved, Jake had to be the bigger man here. He knew that a cloud of uncertainty loomed in the halls, one by the name of Jackson or fucking Jeremy for all Jake cared. But as he stood in the bathroom with you, surrounded in the locks of hair that had once been on your head, he knew damn well at the end of the day it was still his last name you chose to take. “Good thing you don't have an odd shaped head after all, it kinda suits you.” 

“Would you still love me if I did?” You asked quietly, giving Jake an excuse to confess his love. Jake's lips were soon pressed softly and ever so tenderly against your once again in the blink of an eye as gentle hands still worked to soothe your stained cheeks. 

It wasn’t a hard question to answer, nor an easy question to ask—but as Jake pulled away to rest his forehead on yours as he ran the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, you knew it was an easy concept to understand: 

“I’ve never, and I will never, stop loving you Honey.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

For as much as Jensen hated all things hospital related, over his past few years of treatment, he’d come to know these halls better than he knew the back of his own hand. 

From countless radiation treatments, to endless chemotherapy sessions. Hours upon hours of remedial therapies and acupuncture sessions to stimulate nerve endings, Jensen was a man who was just about ready to pull the plug and live out the remaining few months he had, or less, from the comfort of his back deck. 

He’d been poked and prodded, sliced and diced, far too many times to count on both his hands and for what? A few extra months tacked on top of a few years spent battling pancreatic cancer. No thankyou. Jensen had always had an optimistic outlook on life, until his life started to become the same bland halls and the same bland rooms, with the same bland doctors and nurses who all shared the same look of medical sympathy. 

Jesen, for all intents and purposes, was ready to give up his signature status of being the resistant ‘pin cushion’. The student nurses could learn how to change cannula sights on the lady, Paola, who sat in the same chair for every chemotherapy session. 

The last few days hadnt been too hot for the six foot one, brown eyed, brown haired (allegedly) man. His prognosis had been diminishing ever since he got the news his treatment was no longer as effective as it once had been. 

The day Jensen was told he only had a few short months to live before his organs would begin to fail, even with treatment, was the same day he saw you crying outside the local doctors office. The Hermitage centre as they called it. 

The last thing Jensen ever wanted was for his life to be meaningless, before he knew what he was doing? His feet were padding against the concrete as the psalm of his hands began to sweat inside his jean pockets. 

“You look like you’ve just been told you’re dying?”  As the elevator counted up the floors of which Jensen had to take from the ground floor of the Rhode Island Hospital to the oncology unit, he could vividly remember asking you that question. He recognised the look on your face because not ten minutes prior he;d been told the very same thing. 

“I'd start to get your affairs in order, Mr. Hughs “ It hadn't been just a regular check up with his local general practitioner. But it had been the almost final nail in a long awaited coffin. 

As the elevator dinged, Jensen took a few steps out into the bustling hallways of the oncology ward. Within seconds, he was met with a force so muscular it damn near knocked him back a few paces. But the cancer ridden ex fireman squared his shoulders and kept easy on his feet. 

“Sorry man, my bad.” Jensen almost immediately apologies after the mild impact. He assumed that it was him that had caused the slight collision. His special awareness was pretty shot these days. The flowers he carried were almost crushed on impact, however he managed to save the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies. 

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” The man responded with a polite smile Jensen could only assume his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” like a slow motion car wreck, Jake reached out to shake Jensens hand. In retrospect he should have kept walking. Jensen really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions. 

The most paranoid fantasy Jensen could think of would never have prepared him for the look of utter betrayal that smeared itself across the blonde headed aviators face as Jensen shook your husbands hand: 

“Jensen–”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Never Quite Enough

Part 5

Billy Russo x Reader

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Warnings: Angst, insomnia, more angst.

"Can I confess something to you?" Matt asks.

You look up from your phone in surprise, blinking like a deer caught in headlights. He's dressed in his crisp white shirt and suit pants, his jacket somewhere nearby. 

He looks pristine, but you know you prefer his undressed look even more, the sight of his bare chest was a soothing balm on the open wound that was your life.

You wait patiently for his words.

"I think... he really likes you. Genuinely." 

You let out a long sigh. 

"That sounds like his problem. I am done with him." You say quickly, on a harsh breath.

"Are you?" He challenges, with a calm tone.

You swallow, honestly, you didn't know.

It's been weeks. Nearly a month and a half since you broke up with him, the same amount of time you'd been together. 

Why was climbing out harder than falling in?

Something tugs in your chest, you let out a soft breath. You feel bad for letting one person comfort you for another person's actions.

"Matt." You say his name slowly, looking up at him, the space of his countertop between you.

You swallow.

"I'm sorry." You finally say.

"What for?"

"If I've- lead you on, or made you feel uncomfortable- please just tell me. I'd rather you tell me you're tired of me, than being forced to tolerate me."

He lets out a harsh breath, moves around the counter swiftly.

Before you can process it, your face is buried in his clothed chest.

He smells like the gentle lavender soap he uses, and you're too stunned to do anything other than breathe it in.

"You're not leading me on. I promise, and I'm not just tolerating you. I like you."

A little sob hiccups from your throat, the strength of his adoration pours into you, fills, overflows.

"I've been tolerated my whole life." You say into his chest, tears falling freely, "The first time I felt like I could exist was with him, and even that had been a lie." You grip the back of his shirt, sobbing into his chest.

He shushes you softly, his stubbled cheek pressed to the crown of your head.

His body tightens around you, it makes you feel worse, like you're forcing him to comfort you in some way. You cry harder.

Matt holds you through it, and when your violent shaking turns into little hiccups, he leans down to kiss your forehead, his thumb swiping at one cheek, to push your tears away.

"He's hurt you so badly, and It's up to you to decide whether that damage can be fixed or not. But you need to know that you're not tolerated, you're appreciated. By me...and by him."

"How do you know?" You protest, looking into his unfocused eyes.

"I heard him say it. To his friend, Frank, that day at the gala. I heard him tell Frank that he loves you."

You blink, drawing your head back in shock.

Love?

You sniffle, Matt's words have knocked the sadness right out of you, replacing it with surprise.

 You reach for a tissue sitting on the countertop.

"That can't be right." You hum, wiping at your nose, and dabbing at your cheeks. You'd have to re-do today's makeup before work.

"His actions were awful, and the things he did do not deserve forgiveness. But his feelings now are genuine." Matt says.

Now?

Your shoulders drop.

They hadn't been genuine before?

When he'd offered you one of his shirts to sleep in, on the very first night you'd slept over, the hidden eager look in his eyes... that had been fake?

Of course it was, your mind supplies, you feel like you're sinking lower with each thought.

Like a full tub being emptied, you feel the emotion drain right out of you.

You spend a solid moment like that, in disbelief at the emotion just leaving you, rejecting Matt’s last words without another second of consideration.

You part your lips, finally sucking in a deep breath that doesn’t hurt.

Your mouth parts wider in relief. 

For the first time, you feel true nothingness, and not the numbness of the refusal to process emotion that you were used to.

It's liberating, you close your eyes in bliss.

Somehow, you'd managed to turn your turbulent emotions off.

Like a switch, flipping inside you, centred around your confused feelings. Your brain doesn't know how to feel, so it stops feeling.

You know Matt wasn't the type of man to lie to you, it wasn't even in his nature to stretch the truth. He was a man that could only speak fact, and something said with this much surety could only be true.

But that didn’t mean you were capable of accepting his words. Instead you smile at him, wiping at your tears.

“I should get to work.” You respond, looking up at him with a small smile on your face.

.

The world around you is interesting, when you can’t feel a thing. Nothing matters, at all.

You smile at Dex easily, engaging him in conversation, a past version of you would probably be feeling absolutely hollow inside. Instead, you simply exist, only answering questions when you’re asked, smiling along to small talk.

There’s no sadness, or despair, or hate for yourself.

There’s nothing.

And nothing had to be better than everything all at once...right?

It’s peaceful now, your work gets done much faster, headphones on to help you focus, you feel like pushing yourself to see how much you’re capable of, only stopping for a few short breaks throughout the day.

It feels good, getting things done ahead of time, it makes you feel like you’re being efficient  in a space you’ve only felt desolation for a long while.

You only realise how late it is when the night cleaning crew shows up.

Only then you decide to amble on home, a bowl of ramen in your arms, tucked into your couch in the dark of the night before bed.

You don’t see Matt that night, probably busy at his own job, and you’re okay with that, knowing that you shouldn’t be using him as any type of emotional crutch in the first place.

The problem comes when you try to go to sleep.

You find that you can’t, you don’t feel sleepy. 

You toss and you turn and you sit up and you have tea and press the heels of your hands against your eyes and struggle with being awake when you should be asleep.

You have nothing to help you sleep, so you curl up in bed and close your eyes and pretend that you’re asleep until morning when your alarm goes off for work.

Silence and nothingness are your associates now, and however inconvenient, you prefer it to whatever was there before.

He loves you, your mind tries to interject during your morning routine, and you stop comically while brushing your teeth to stare dead ahead at yourself in the mirror.

Love… I barely know what that is, you answer.

You resume brushing your teeth.

You’re acutely aware that at some point, you’re probably going to crash. People aren’t made to be awake for long periods of time and feel this fine about it.

Being at work is pretty okay, and you don’t feel like ripping your hair out at the first inconvenience. 

It’s your second day of working late, and you’re dealing with it well. You’ve put your phone on do not disturb and with your headphones in, you’re lost in your own world of report reading and analysis.

Really, you should have known that letting your guard drop would tempt fate too much. The fickle way life tended to work around you should have had your walls up permanently.

But in your exhausted state, leaning against the wall gripping your bag with one hand while waiting for the elevator, it was hard to keep any sort of defense up.

So when someone says your name in mild surprise, the only response you can give is a raise of your head.

He looks as exhausted as you feel, and you wonder if he sees something similar in you. His jacket folded neatly over one arm, phone in his palm.

“Hey Mister Russo.” You say softly in greeting, straightening to take a step into the elevator.

He doesn’t say anything for a second as the doors close.

“It’s late.” He comments, and you turn your head to glance at him.

“Yes it is.” You agree, unable to stay steady on your feet, you lean against the wall of the elevator too.

“You look tired.”

You let out a slow breath.

“I’ll live.” You answer.

“We should talk.”

You groan, tilting your head back.

“You’re making me wish I’d taken another elevator.” 

“Let me drive you home.” He answers as if you hadn’t just expressed your distaste for him.

You raise your head to look at him angrily.

There were so many things you wanted to say. Leave me alone. Take a hike. I don’t want to talk to you. I’d rather chew nails that get into a car with you. Why are you looking at me like that? Do you love me?

In the end, you say nothing, and the doors to the elevators slide open, and you step out without even a goodbye.

The lobby is quiet, dimly lit, very much somber and lacking the life that there usually is during the daylight.

You only get a few steps out of the elevator before he’s blocking your path with his tall frame.

You huff, looking up at him, willing him to go away.

“Can we please talk? Please?”

You were so irritated with having to experience him and his constant persistence of you. You blink, angrily clenching your teeth together.

“Why? Why should I even give you a chance, Billy? So you can lie to me more? Hurt me more? What’s it going to take for you to realise that we’re over?”

He lets out a sharp breath.

“We have something. You know we do. There’s a voice inside you that tells you we’re right for each other. I hear it too.”

“You’re wrong,” You answer softly, “There’s no voice.”

He shakes his head.

“Don’t lie, don’t act like-” He cuts off, letting out a slow breath.

“Like what?” You prod.

“-Like you don’t care!” He hisses, “Stop acting like this was nothing.” He says, gesturing to the space between you.

“This was nothing.” You clarify.

He looks frustrated, all you can do is observe him with a casual tilt of your head.

“What you did was unforgivable. What could you possibly want from me now?” You follow up, after he’s unable to speak.

“Another chance.” He utters.

You raise your eyebrows.

“To do what?” You felt like you had to break this down for him like a child.

“To prove to you that my feelings were real,” He takes a step forward, getting closer to you and forcing you to tilt your head up to keep looking at him.

“To show you that I think you’re the best person on the planet. That we have something,” Billy’s hands raise to cup your face, his eyes dark, a void pulling you in, “worth fighting for.”

He leans in, and it only just registers in your tired brain that he’s going to kiss you.

“I have a boyfriend.” You whisper out in a rush in an effort to deter him.

His only response is a small smile.

“Break up with him.” he answers simply as his mouth meets your in a soft kiss.

It melts you, like it usually does. His bearded face creating tingles as it scratches against yours and for a moment you feel so whole.

And then you’re pushing him away, because you don’t deserve this, because you are not someone you believe is worth fighting for.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, unable to meet his eyes, “I just don’t believe in us the way you do.” You step to the side, and dodge his hand when he tries to grab your wrist.

He calls your name behind you as you leave, the sound is soft, pleading.

You don’t look back.

.

When he touches his lips, he can still feel you there.

Like you own his mouth, and now every kiss is yours, and every smile is for you.

He needs you, so badly that it hurts him.

There’s also a sober part of him that wishes he had the capacity to leave you alone, let you heal from him, leave him behind and move on with your life. But the selfish part of him, the part that fought for scraps in a house of too many people, that part of him clings to the love he has. 

In many ways he’s still a child, he acknowledges, always quietly hoping that someone could want him, listen to him, talk to him about every useless topic on the planet.

He’d found that in you. Someone to listen to him, not just give a vacant smile when he spoke, or roll their eyes, exhausted at his small, unpracticed attempts at conversation. 

He loved the little niche tidbits of information you knew, he was always learning something exciting, or something that made you light up when you spoke.

And then he’d- done that.

The little boy that never had anything, sabotaging his one chance at love because somewhere deep down inside, he didn’t know if he was really capable of it. Maybe he wasn’t. He’d never had it aimed in his direction really.

Who had loved him? Ever in his life? 

Frank was the closest thing he had to a brother, Billy had no doubt that the Castles loved him. 

And it was good, but it wasn’t enough. 

Now more than ever he knew that, lying awake, fingers pressed to his mouth where he could still feel the softness of your lips. He knew what being enough to someone had felt like.

He knew he’d do anything to have that again.

.

You can’t sleep at all.

It’s way worse than before.

Things had been okay when you couldn’t feel anything, but one kiss had brought it all back. Now, you were just sad all over again. 

Each time you kissed him, pulled you together, and each time you left him behind, you shattered even more.

Like glass that had been broken once, being hammered into splinters. You didn’t know how much of yourself had been damaged, beyond hope of repair already.

And yet still, you couldn’t forget him.

The soft heat of his touch, the sound of his breaths. You spend the entire night thinking about him, and wishing you could think about something, anything else.

.

There’s a box waiting on your desk when you get in the next morning.

It fits in your palm, wrapped in blue floral gift paper with a black bow on top. It screams Billy.

“That from Matt?” Dex asks, as he’s walking by and observes your handling of the gift.

“Probably.” You lie, tugging at the bow.

“Hope it’s something nice.” He wishes as he steps away, going back to whatever he was doing.

His wrapping is precise, no fold is haphazard, the bow sits right in the middle, perfectly equidistant from all edges.

It pulls a smile to your face. You almost don’t want to open it, the effort put into wrapping is a gift in itself.

You doubt Billy had given many gifts in his life- or even gotten them. He’d only mentioned it once that he didn’t have parents, and that he grew up in the system. You’d wanted to ask about it, but you’d never gotten a real chance.

You wanted to know how many gifts he'd gotten, how many happy birthdays.

You shouldn't care, it shouldn't matter to you, but it did.

You take the wrapping off carefully, wanting to preserve every bit of this, something that could be remembered later, savoured when you needed something to think of in the darkness of the night.

You tug the lid off the box quickly, eyes locking onto the shimmering gold in the box.

Your mouth parts in surprise.

It’s a simple present, butterfly hair clips in a gold colour. Each wing of the shiny butterfly is attached to the clip with a few small springs, it means that every slight movement makes the wings appear as though they’re fluttering.

All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, staring at similar clips in someone else’s hair. You gulp, looking around for a note, an explanation as to why.

You’d only asked your parents once for them, and then never again.

His note is lodged beneath the lid of the box, and you take your time prying it out, opening it.

‘Saw these and thought of you.

-Billy

x.'

You blink back tears, looking at the delicate clips once more.

You don’t take them out of the box, despite how badly you want to. You settle for just running a careful finger over the fluttering wings, a quiet appreciation of something you’d forgotten you wanted.

The clips are so shiny that they were bound to catch attention, which was the last thing you wanted here. Maybe later, after everyone was gone, you could indulge yourself in trying them on.

It was a brilliant gift, something small and seemingly unimportant, and yet, an item that he hadn’t known you’d desired from the moment you first saw them.

Warm, something trickling into the very depths of you, a feeling you want, a feeling you yearn for. 

You reach for your phone, with calling him in mind, his extension seared to your memory and you just want to talk to him-

You slam the phone down just as fast. A few coworkers looking over at you in your peripherals.

Dread spills over inside of you, a paralysing fear that you were playing directly into his game, that this was a ploy, or even if it wasn’t, you couldn’t just go back to normal with him. He’d done something unforgivable, and you had to be rigid in your inability to absolve him of his actions.

He’d made a bet, with his friends, to see if he was capable of being in an exhausting relationship with you, because everyone thinks that you were annoying.

Because he thought that you were annoying.

You tuck his gift into the top drawer of your desk, letting the pain of his betrayal reorient you.

Billy Russo did not like you.

.

“Shit.” You curse, glancing at the time on your phone. You’d been so zoned into your computer that you hadn’t even noticed that the work day had been officially over for a while now. 

You sigh, leaning back, opening your top drawer to grab a page marker for the document you just sent to print. 

You spot the little gift box tucked into the back of the drawer and you can’t help the smile that pulls onto your face.

You drop everything you’re doing, reaching for the box happily. 

You take your time, pinning one clip to either side of your head to pull some of your hair back, opening your front camera to admire the little fluttering clips.

You loved the little things, delicate in your hair, glittering with the movement and the lights and you make a mental note to avoid the possibility of getting it tangled in your hair as best as possible.

You get distracted by the sound of the printer beeping in the distance to signal your print was completed and you get up to grab the file. 

A few hours later, you hear the elevator nearby make a small sound as it stops on your floor. You look up, alert and the awareness of how late it is makes you a little scared.

It’s him that rounds the corner, crisp suit, his jacket tucked under his arm. He pauses when he notices you, your eyes meeting, before a little smile pulls onto his face.

“I figured you’d be here.” He hums, approaching you.

You huff, glancing back at your computer screen.

“You just can’t seem to leave me alone, can you?” You bite back.

When he’s quiet for too long, standing beside you, you turn to look up at him.

There’s a strange expression on his face, something that washes the coldness inside of you away with gentle warmth.

“What?” You ask, trying to keep your voice harsh.

Why are you looking at me like that?

“You’re real fuckin’ pretty.” He answers.

You make a sound of annoyance, turning back to your computer to continue working on your excel sheet.

Do you love me?

Your fingers freeze on your keyboard when he kneels in your peripherals next to you.

What in God’s name was he doing?

You let out a harsh breath.

“Billy-”

His hand reaches to touch something in your hair, it’s only then you remember that you’re wearing the clips he gave you.

“-These look so much better on you than I’d imagined.” He whispers, turning a strand of your hair over between his fingers.

You look down, unable to meet his eyes.

“I’ve always wanted them, since I was little. My parents fought a lot, and I could never work up the courage to ask for them. Then, when I got older, I could never find them.” You glance up at him for a moment before looking away, “Thank you, I love them, but that doesn’t change anything between us.”

His eyebrows pull together sadly, a reflectiveness to his eyes that wasn’t there before.

Do you love me?

“You should go home, it’s late.”

You give him a tired smile.

“Yeah, I know, I just have a little bit more to do.”

“Do it tomorrow. You shouldn’t be here so late.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” You mutter absentmindedly, “I’m making you money.”

He grips your chair, turning it quickly away from your computer until you face him.

You meet his gaze with an annoyed look of your own.

“I have enough money.” He answers with a teasing expression. The corner of your lip twitches in amusement.

“Whatever.” You say, trying to turn your chair back to your computer, but he only grips it tighter to keep you in place. His eyes dart to your desk, and then he reaches for something, grabbing it off your desk and moving away quickly.

When you look back at your desk you notice your wireless mouse is missing.

“Hey!” You stand, taking a few steps toward him. He mirrors your movement, taking a few steps back as well.

“Give that back, Russo.” You warn, approaching him again, this time he doesn’t move, encouraging you to try getting closer to him again.

When you’re within grabbing range, he grins, hiding his hands behind his back.

“Shut down your computer and go home.” He tries again.

“Or what?” You challenge, reaching around to grab at his hands. He shifts the mouse from his left to his right hand quickly, forcing you to get even closer to him, to try grabbing it.

“Or I throw this thing out the window and unplug your computer.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” You argue, gripping his fist in yours and trying to pry his fingers open.

He pulls his hand away from you easily, giving you an evil grin before raising his fist with your mouse above his head where you couldn’t possibly reach on your own.

You don’t even try to jump for it, only crossing your arms and looking up at him.

“I could knee you in the balls. I’d get it really quickly that way.” You threaten.

He tips his head back and laughs, and you find yourself smiling too. You take the chance, using the distraction to jump and grab his fist. 

But your attempt seemed to be exactly what he wanted because in the next moment his hand is on your waist, using your own momentum against you to spin you, switching positions so that he can press you against the wall that was just behind him.

You gasp, looking up at him in bewilderment. His scent floods your nose, reigniting an ache inside of you, one that yearned for him.

He watches you carefully, doesn’t do anything more than uncurl his fingers, so that you can get the mouse sitting in the palm of his hand.

You look at the mouse, and then back into his eyes, letting out a slow sigh, wishing for something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Thank you.” You say, taking the mouse from him, and ducking under his arm to slip out from between his body and the wall. 

Sitting at your desk once again, you groan in annoyance as he grabs a chair from a nearby desk and sits himself near you.

“What now?” You ask, barely looking at him.

“I’m not leaving till you do.” He answers simply.

"For a CEO, you seem really bad at getting the message." You grunt out.

He sighs, leaning forward to prop his elbow onto your desk, and then after a moment, he rests his face in his hand, looking at you calmly.

"I'm sorry." He says softly.

"So I've heard." You answer, deciding to save your work before he actually unplug your computer.

"Have you been sleeping?" Billy asks on another soft breath.

"Yes." You lie.

"You haven't. It's why you're here so late. Because you go home, and you lie awake, staring at the ceiling." He says, and you get the feeling that he isn't only talking about you.

"Can you blame me?" You snipe, trying to focus on your screen so that you can pretend that this conversation isn't happening.

There's a long silence before he speaks again.

"I hate myself."

Your chest squeezes harshly, brain halting any thoughts of work. You stare at the computer screen, feeling pressure build behind your eyes.

You wipe an unsteady hand over your mouth for comfort.

"Yeah well, that makes both of us." You reply shakily.

"I've always kind of hated myself," he continues, and you peek a look over at him to find that he's shifted, his hands in his lap, bending a paperclip out of shape while he speaks, "Even when I was a kid, I told myself that there must be something very wrong with me for my mom to not want me."

You take a deep breath, listening to him, finally hearing him open up about himself for the first time.

"I almost got adopted once, interview with a family had gone well, they let me move in with them for a trial period. I almost had what I wanted most, and then-" He gives a shake of his head, to knock the memory loose and you want so badly to reach over and take his hand, to stop him from worrying the paperclip out of shape, only to try to reshape it again, "-I punched their son in the face for something so dumb I can barely remember it. They dropped me back the next morning without a goodbye."

You watch in your peripherals as he puts the paperclip back into shape, except it doesn't look quite right, a little misshapen after his touch.

"My therapist says I've always had a penchant for self sabotage. Always worried that something good will be taken away, so I ruin it, so that at least it's ruined on my terms." He grins, "What a nutjob."

"You? Or your therapist?" You ask.

He huffs out a surprised laugh, looking up at you for a second, watching you return his laugh with a wry smile of your own, before glancing away.

Do you love me, Billy Russo?

"Sorry. I don't mean to force your forgiveness with a shitty story of growing up in the system. I just- well- I was hoping it would help you… understand me a little more."

“Don’t apologize. I get it. We’re all just trying to heal from something.”

“What are you trying to heal from? Besides me?”

You turn away, unsure if you want to tell him, unsure if you can speak for so long without shutting down.

You rub your knuckles against your lips absentmindedly.

“It’s stupid.” You whisper.

“It’s not. I promise.”

You feel anxiety flutter in your stomach.

“I’ve always felt like I was too much. Too loud, too clingy, too unattractive. Like if I was just tolerated, everywhere I went. I made friends, and then after a while, they’d leave, without explanation and with the number of times it happened, I kept thinking to myself that it had to be my fault.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat.

“It’s the only logical explanation, that I’m okay to befriend and talk to a little, but I’m not enough to maintain a friendship with. I’m not enough to be held on to.”

Why weren’t you enough?

You stop talking now, taking a deep breath and holding it to fight off your tears.

He reaches for your hand, and you let him, you can feel the paperclip pressed between your hands.

“I see how badly I fucked up now.” He says softly to you, “And I want you to know that every inch of you is worth fighting for, and I fully intend to show you that.”

You close your eyes, shaking your head with a sad smile.

“Billy-”

“-no buts, you’re about to see some of the most desperate grovelling of your life.”

You laugh in disbelief.

“You’re insane, Russo.”

“Yeah. Don’t tell my therapist.”

.

He wants to hold you so badly. Wrap his arms around you, and feel you lean against him.

In the elevator now, he keeps glancing at you, his eyes drawn to the little fluttering clips in your hair and his heart clenches so tightly in his chest that he swears it stops beating.

“Let me drive you home.” He offers, hoping that you’d let him, instead of taking a taxi at this hour of the night. 

He watches the clips flutter more as you shake your head, a smile pulling onto his face at how adorable you look.

“We’re not there yet, Russo.” You respond.

Yet? He thinks hopefully.

.

.

.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

T 🧛‍♂️ 🥵🎀 (also congrats! and I am very excited about this whole thing! 😘😘😘)

Thank you so much, love! 💖 This one is not as explicitly smutty as the other request I did for you, but I'm pretty positive this won't be the last time I visit this world. (And they will absolutely fuck nasty in later instalments.)

Sweet perdition

Words: 947 Rated: E Tags: Vampire & werewolf AU; Vampire Eddie; Werewolf Steve; Imprisonment; Non-consensual bondage; Sexual tension; Explicit sexual content; Homoerotic blood drinking Notes: Part 1

It seems, Kas thinks, like he needs to thoroughly reassess his notions of werewolves. 

He's just lucky none of his vampire siblings can see him now, shackled to the floor in the basement of the surprisingly fancy manor that is the den of Steve’s pack. Outwitted and taken captive by a bunch of mutts - he'd be an utter laughing stock. 

Then again, if his siblings think that all werewolves are ugly, hairy thugs with nothing but floof for brains, it only goes to show they’ve never met any real-life packs before. Or their very pretty, very witty, very naked leaders.

Speaking of which … 

“I see you. I know you're watching me.” 

A heartbeat passes in silence. 

“Don't give yourself too much credit,” Steve smiles as he steps from the darkness. “Merely checking if you're settling in alright.” 

“How very hospitable of you,” Kas snarls. “You treat all your guests like this?” 

“Only the ones that might tear out my throat while I'm asleep,” Steve shrugs, settling cross-legged on the ground, just out of reach. He's acquired a set of clothes since Kas last saw him. A pair of skinny breeches and a cream shirt with billowing sleeves, gathered at the wrists with little satin ribbons. He looks like a haughty young lord gracing a subject with his presence. 

“You could always just let me go,” Kas hedges. Steve snorts a boyish laugh. 

“Nice try,” he says. “Afraid I can't do that.” 

Kas groans. “Is this still about your stupid prey? I told you I have nothing to do with that. Animal blood makes me wanna hurl.” 

Steve’s face remains unimpressed. “Even if that's true, one of your friends might be involved. Keeping you around might come in handy.” 

“So you're just gonna leave me down here to rot?” 

“I didn't say that.” 

Kas is about to ask what the hell he is on about, but then Steve holds out his hand. Something unfurls from his fingers - a broad band of tan leather. Inlaid with silver like the manacles on his wrists, no doubt; designed to drain his powers without causing physical harm or pain. Dangling from the end are a metal clasp and lock.

Kas sneers. 

“I think you're a bit confused, wolf boy. If one of us should be in a collar, it sure as hell isn't me.” 

Steve shrugs, rising to his feet. “Suit yourself. I'll just-” 

Something rumbles, loud and humiliating. Steve turns back around, eyebrows raised. 

“Hungry?” 

Kas scowls. “Told you I haven't been anywhere near your food, didn't- what the fuck are you doing?” 

“You're of no use to me if you starve, are you?” Steve is undoing the ribbon on his left wrist with deft fingers, pushing the sleeve up to his elbow. “Drink.” 

Kas bares his fangs, drawing a breath to tell him to go fuck himself. 

And that is when the scent hits him. Coppery and hot and tempting like all living things. 

But also more. 

Also warm summer soil and newly mown hay and embers in a slow fire. 

Life. 

He's on his knees before he realizes it, nosing at the delicate skin of that wrist. Steve hisses lightly as he pierces his flesh, but he doesn’t pull back. 

The taste of him hits Kas like something solid, seeping heavily into his limbs and sending his mind abuzz with fuzzy sensations and images. The sky at dusk and sun on skin. Music and laughter and touch, and a forgotten name floating just out of reach. The warm, tingling heat pools at the base of his spine, setting his nerves alight with fire. He moans, lapping at the thin rivulet of blood like a parched man. Each droplet is like a hit of morphine, is sweet perdition, is another kind of shackle snapping shut. He knows, instinctively, even in this moment, that he's lost. He's powerless to stop it. 

“Enough.” 

Steve uses his free hand to yank him back by the hair. Kas snarls in protest, straining to catch the last precious drops falling from those long fingers with his tongue before they go to waste. Steve watches him while he licks them up. 

“Greedy, aren't you?” 

“Fuck you,” Kas snaps. 

Steve’s lips curl into a smile. “Oh, I'm sure you'd love to. That happen every time you feed or is that just for me?” 

Those hazel eyes are swirling with gold as they flick down, and Kas realizes with a detached sense of surprise that he is painfully hard. 

“Don't give yourself too much credit,” he drawls. “And besides, I could ask the same thing of you.” 

He turns his head, which is conveniently level with the very obvious bulk in Steve’s pants. The boy doesn't recoil when he scrapes his fangs along the outline of it, merely takes a well measured step back. He's a tough little bastard, Kas has got to give it to him. 

“I'll just leave this here,” Steve says sweetly. “In case you change your mind.” 

The collar clatters to the ground. Kas doesn't turn to look at it. His gaze is transfixed to Steve's hands fixing his shirt sleeve back into place. The ribbon soaks up the last beads of blood, crimson stains blooming on cream satin like flower petals. 

“Full moon's tomorrow, so you'll need to make that meal last for a day or two,” Steve says conversationally. “I suggest you put that time to good use and think about my offer.” 

Kas wordlessly watches how he turns his back and disappears into the darkness. The metal buckle of the collar glints in the low light of the basement.

The summery scent of life lingers long after Steve is gone. 

Werewolf!Robin: You let him drink your WHAT? Are you insane? What if he has vampire rabies?!

More celebration ficlets

[noxexistant]

ai-less whumptober; day three

@ailesswhumptober 3 — shared trauma, survivor’s guilt, “It’s not your fault.” ↳ october, 1899 word count; 1.5k

cw; sibling death, implied alcohol abuse

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Jack thinks about Michael every day of his life. Maybe that's a good thing. He can't imagine the guilt if he didn't. But he also, really, can't imagine being able to…not. The thinking is one thing, but the nightmares are another.

And then there's the reminders.

Jack is all too aware his brother's death had had witnesses, all those boys watching out of the Refuge windows as they'd hopped the carriage, as Michael had slipped — and witnesses talk. Newsies talk, every shoeshine and street rat in New York talks; there ain't much else to do when they're working dawn 'til midnight or locked up behind those barred windows under Snyder's heel. Everyone knows. But it's one of those things most folk don't dare talk about — not when he's Cowboy, not when he's got the mask of being a leader to hide behind. Folk don't mess with him, though it's not the same way they don't mess with Spot Conlon. It's not fear.

They just…like him. Too much to bring up his dead little brother every time the urge might strike, whether they're pissed off with him — Jack thinks about his photograph, silently torn to shreds after he took the money — or they're just curious.

The Delanceys have no such reservations.

"Hey, Kelly," Oscar calls out from a little way down the alleyway Jack had just turned down. "Happy anniversary."

It's not. It's in a couple weeks. But Oscar's never been good with numbers.

"Fuck off, Delancey," he responds.

It's fucking cold. Too cold for October, too cold to be outside all day, but Jack doesn't have a whole lot of choice. He'd sold like shit, the way he always does in that lull between the cold weather starting and Christmas coming in — it's late and he's only just sold his last pape, he just wants to be done. But there Oscar is, leaned against the wall of the alleyway Jack's trying to cut through to get back to the lodging house, cigarette in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. He smells like the stuff, but it isn't the sharp, acrid smell of the cheap booze that can usually be found amongst the newsies. It smells good. It looks good.

Oscar grins at him, lopsided. Jack can guess that what's been drained from the bottle has all been drank by him tonight, and his suspicions are confirmed when Oscar brings the bottle to his lips and takes a long, easy drink.

"How long's it been now, eh?" he asks as he draws the bottle away, voice still a little tight as he swallows, utterly casual. "Since Michael. Ten years?"

His tone is lazy, something smug and amused and utterly infuriating in his face. Jack rolls his jaw.

"C'mon, Oscar, get your fingers up. Try an' count it out."

Of all the possible reactions, he isn't expecting Oscar to laugh.

Violence would be expected, normal, but Oscar laughs, the way he usually only does when he's beating someone into the pavement or ruining their day.

It makes something in Jack's gut curl, burning hot and angry.

"Y'know, I really don't get it," he says. "Why you're like this. Why you act like all that time in there was nothin' to you, jus' somethin' to crack jokes about now. I saw you. Every day. Saw you go through Hell with me. An' your little brother."

Oscar takes a slow drag from his cigarette, still sort of smiling around it. One side of his mouth curled up to bare a canine that gets covered when he exhales the smoke into the cold night air.

"Been through worse," he says with a shrug. Takes a swig of his whiskey. "An' clearly I did better in there 'n you did. Got my wee brother out alive an' all."

The noise he makes when Jack throws him into the wall is satisfying, at least. A grunt from deep in his chest as the air is knocked out of him, a dull crack of his head hitting the brick last. His cigarette tumbles to the floor, and Jack takes no small amount of satisfaction in catching it beneath his boot and scraping it hard, mangling it into a spread corpse of tobacco, though Oscar keeps a firm hold on his whiskey.

And then he smiles again, lazier this time.

"You always been jealous."

Jack had seen Morris go through Hell in the Refuge. As much as if not more than Jack himself and Oscar had faced. He'd been tiny when Jack first saw him. A tiny, malnourished little kid who'd clearly been brutalised all his life. For the first few years, Jack had believed Morris to be a lot younger than he is — Michael's age, maybe. Never could've guessed that he's only a few months younger than Jack himself. But Morris was always well looked after by Oscar, regardless of the circumstances in there, or the circumstances of wherever they'd come from. Morris was forever under the protection of his older brother. Oscar, who would start fights with the other boys to wrench their rations from them to give to Morris. Who'd stay awake all night and curl himself around his brother, vicious and protective like a dog, or sit vigil at his bedside to ensure nobody dared come close. Who'd walked out of the Refuge, freshly eighteen, with his hand clasped around his little brother's bony wrist when their uncle had arrived, looking for boys to put to work.

Maybe Jack thinks about them near as much as he thinks about Michael. It's a fact he fucking hates.

He'd compared himself to Oscar at every possible turn as they grew up, confined together, the only other older brother he'd ever known to compare himself to.

He'd wondered, in the wake of Michael's death, if he could've kept him alive, protected him better, if he was only more like Oscar. More vicious, more controlling, more willing to bide his time and take it for as long as he had to until it was over, instead of always having to try and run. Maybe he could've been stronger.

"'M'glad," he says, without. Really thinking about it. Means it, at least. "That you got your brother out."

He's still got Oscar pinned to the wall, leaning his weight against him with hands balled into the worn fabric of his jacket, but finally he forces himself to let go. Staggers a step backwards, skin feeling heavy on his body. Grief feeling heavy on his aching shoulders.

There's a brief stretch of silence. And then Oscar wordlessly holds out the bottle of whiskey between them.

Jack takes it without hesitation, and tips it back to draw a long swig from the bottle. It's good. Rich and warm, burns down his throat right to his empty stomach. Oscar's looking at him.

"You expectin' me to lie to you?" he says, but his voice is softer now. "Tell you it's not your fault?"

Jack shakes his head, and takes another swig, maybe half because he can and half because he's cold. Mostly because he needs it.

"Know it is," he says forcefully. "'Course it's my fault."

It had been October then too, and he knew then how utterly miserable winters in the Refuge were. He'd just wanted to get out before the cold set in, wanted to get him and Michael somewhere they could stay warm. Boys always died during the winter in the refuge. And isn't there a sick irony to that.

"I—" Oscar says suddenly, then stops himself. Swallows, and drops his head back against the brick again, pale eyes looking up at the sky. "Dunno how you kept goin'," he says. "Dunno that I could. 'f Mo…"

Jack swallows too. He can't help but look at Oscar, closer than he usually ever gets to be, something. Sickeningly intimate about the vulnerability in this moment. The older boy looks tired. He looks sad. And then seems to experience his own wave of grief, as if realising in an instant that he's said more than he wanted to — revealed too much, like Jack hasn't already seen everything. Hasn't seen Oscar holding Morris' limp body and screaming. It was just the fact that Morris woke up.

"Fuckin'. Whatever," Oscar mutters. "I gotta get home."

Jack imagines Morris is waiting for him.

It's how it always is, when the two of them are apart. They're just waiting to be reunited, two broken halves of a whole. Oscar goes suddenly, without another word, and Jack watches him walk away with his hands shoved in his pockets, boots crunching. He's still got his own hand around the neck of the bottle that Oscar had left with him. There's still a warmth to it where Oscar had held it.

Jack takes another swig, and starts heading his own way home, trying not to think about Michael waiting for him somewhere.

[bvidzsoo]

Nowhere we won’t go

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warning: violence, murder, blood, some swearing

 Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

 Word count: 27, 401

 Summary:  Life had mysterious ways of working, and it took you off guard when you lost your best friend to a ruthless criminal. No one knew who did it, the whole town was in terror. However, it didn’t stop there, more people were dying and your suspicions of the murderer started raising. Could it really be your boyfriend?

 A/N: Hiii lovelies! I’m back from the dead lol. College always takes a tool on me, so I barely have inspiration to write nowadays. I watched Scream lol and this oneshot came into fruition. Ofc it’s heavily inspired by the movie so don’t come at me, but I tried to be original still. I might be a little rusty crusty dusty, but I hope it’s not that noticeable. Please leave feedback, you know I love it and I hope everyone enjoys this! Happy reading!

           This morning wasn’t any different compared to other mornings. The sun was slowly rising, beaming down on our little borough and letting its rays spread some well needed warmth as autumn has approached, coating the town in a grey fog as a result of daily rain. I missed the summer days, when the temperatures were high and I was carefree and able to spend my time doing what I liked. School takes up a large amount of effort and energy, and sometimes, I’m drained by the end of the day. I am conscious that going to school is crucial as it’s supposed to educate us and develop us into mature and smart young adults, ready to pursue our dreams and goals once we’re out of high-school, but most of times it’s just a buzzkill. The teachers are always dull and mean to us, as if they hate us for being in their classes, and most things we learn seem useless once we have stepped out into the real world. I like studying, but I am not desperate, and find myself spending my time doing something else quite often. This has always been an issue with my mom, as she’s a hardworking nurse and stern woman, only expecting and accepting perfection. But we got past our differences a few years ago and now, if I get good grades, she allows me to do whatever I like on the weekends. When I was young, I was supposed to attend various activities which my mother enjoyed while she was young, like: swimming and ballet classes. I have always hated ballet; it gave me bad ankle and toe aches making me unable to get out of bed on some lamentable days. But my mother wouldn’t accept my whining and forced me to continue ballet, only allowing me to stop when I told her I had no interest in being a ballerina. That was three years ago. Mom was quite disappointed but when I told her I wanted to take up some drawing and painting classes, reluctantly, but at last she agreed. Now, I can see myself being an artist, attending a prestige arts college. I only have to convince my mother at this point to oblige to my wish. I don’t know how I’m going to do that, but I’ve still got two years to come up with a good solution. Perhaps if Wonwoo and I can go to the same college she’ll let me be. Wonwoo, my boyfriend, is someone who my mother adores. She’s loved him from the very first moment they have met. He’s soft spoken and kind, a little withdrawn, but nonetheless friendly once he opens up to you. We’ve known each other since we were kids as we’ve been living on the same street for our whole lives, but our romance only began in high-school, last year. It took us some time to mature and notice each other finally, but when it happened, I couldn’t have been happier. He was so attentive to me, always listening closely to what I had to say. He made me laugh and smile, sometimes even without trying to, and filled my heart with warmth I didn’t know was even possible. I found a confidant and friend in him, someone whom I could love freely and carelessly, never doubtful or uncertain of his intentions. Wonwoo was direct and honest from the get go and it made me like him even more. We had our ups and downs, just as any couple, but managed to work them out and move forward as a stronger couple. He had moments when I couldn’t understand him, questioning whether I was imagining his lack of empathy or he really lacked of it, but never thought too hard about it. After all, both of us were enamored with each other, living under our pink cloud as any newly formed couple.

I had dressed up after waking up, realizing I needed to hurry up if I wanted to catch the bus, mom had a nightshift and wouldn’t be driving me to school today. I could smell bacon and eggs wafting through the downstairs as I descended the stairs, headed for the kitchen. My mother was still in her nurse uniform, her blonde hair pulled in a tight bun as she placed the fried bacon on a plate next to the already done eggs.

“Good morning, mom.” I greeted her with a smile and she turned around, dark bags under her eyes as she returned a smile.

“Good morning, slept well?” She asked as she handed me the plate which I took eagerly. I didn’t have dinner last night as I was too lazy to cook something and my stomach was screaming at me right now to fill it with something.

“Yes, although the storm did wake me up…” I trailed off as mom hummed, sipping some orange juice as she sat down opposite of me.

“It was quite bad; the wind tore a few trees out around the hospital.” She said and I hummed in surprise, not having thought the storm was actually that bad. My mom looked behind me with furrowed eyebrows as she quickly went to grab the remote control. I was just chewing on my breakfast as she turned the volume up of the TV behind me, making me turn around to see what has caused such interest in my mom suddenly. However, the words of the reporter made me drop my fork.

“Breaking News.” Her voice was loud and clear, eyebrows furrowed as she stood in front of a white house, “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Trees getting torn out of the ground during last night’s storm wasn’t the only unfortunate thing to happen. It has come to our attention, that a beloved citizen of our serene city has been murdered in cold blood last night during the storm. Her name is Myoi Mina and she was a student at Primrose High-School. Not much is known as of now about her death, the police are still investigating the crime scene, however, I managed to find out before going live, that she’d been stabbed in the chest three times and suffered a fatal trauma to her head. I offer my sincere condolences to everyone who knew her. Stay tuned for more news about the terrific death of Myoi Mina, a bright girl who will never be forgotten. I am Park Sooyoung and you’ve been watching Prime News.”

For a second the world went quiet around me as I continued staring at the TV with my mouth open in shock. If it weren’t for my mother calling out my name, I probably would have stayed longer in that trance.

“Honey!” Her voice rose an octave and suddenly I felt her gripping my hand, eyes searching mine.

“Mom—” I managed to whisper as she pulled me into a hug, offering me support. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. Mina…dead? How is that possible? Who would do that to her? We weren’t friends, but as we go to the same high-school we’ve known each other. She was always bright, and friendly, just as the reporter has said. Who would want to take away her life? When she was so innocent—oh, poor Wonwoo. If I was this affected by the news, I couldn’t imagine what he was going through. They had been exes and despite a tumultuous relationship, they managed to figure things out and stay somewhat friendly with each other after their breakup. Still, she was a person he once had loved and I would totally understand if he needed time to sort his thoughts out.

“Honey, are you alright?” My mom whispered and I lightly nodded, pulling away from the hug. I wasn’t very alright, confusion and fear meshing together, but I needed to stay strong. For Wonwoo, probably.

“Yes, just very…shocked.” I answered mom and she nodded; eyebrows downturned as she understood my feelings.

“It’s going to be fine. The one responsible for this will be found and held responsible for their actions, don’t be afraid.” Mom tried to cheer me up and offer some security, but it didn’t do much. However, I did appreciate her attempt.

“You’re right.” I tried to give her a smile, but I wasn’t able to.

“Let me drive you to school today—”

“No, don’t worry! I am fine, really. You look very tired, just go get some sleep. The bus is coming in five minutes.” I reassured her and got up from my seat, appetite gone as I quickly filled my water bottle with some orange juice.

“You’re sure?” Mom raised her eyebrows and I nodded, going up to her and kissing her cheek.

“Go rest, mom.” She hummed and patted my head before I hurried into the hallway to pull on my shoes and take on my coat. I opened the front door and took my keys, locking it once I was out of the house. Just as I walked down my porch the bus approached and I got on it, noticing the silence and somber faces of the rest of the students on it. Today was a grey day and nobody could deny it.

           My first task after getting off the bus was to find Wonwoo and check up on him. I kept biting my lip nervously as I looked around the halls, even going up to his locker. He was nowhere to be found and it made me even more nervous. I walked up to his classroom and peeked inside, but his usual seat was empty, not even his bag was there yet. Classes would start in ten minutes and I was panicking, about to grab my phone to call him, when I realized I hadn’t checked one place yet. The spot designated for the students to park their bikes and motorbikes. Of course he’d be there, why hadn’t I thought about that earlier?!

I ran down the hallways and finally exited the school, beelining it for the parking lot. Nobody was laughing this morning, people whispering amongst them, some even crying. Mina’s closest friends weren’t even seen at school, I understood why. I greeted a classmate of mine in a rush as I passed by him, he had just gotten out of his car and was taken aback by my presence, but by the time he greeted me back I was already facing the motorbikes parked in the corner. And there he was, Wonwoo, dressed in all black, his helmet in his hands as he got off his bike. His black hair was badly ruffled as he hadn’t run his fingers through his hair yet, and I suddenly took off, running towards my boyfriend. He had placed the helmet where he was sitting just seconds ago when I crashed into his back, hugging him from behind. I rested my cheek against his shoulder as I squeezed my arms tightly around his middle, making Wonwoo let out a surprised gasp.

“Hey, there, sugar.” He chuckled and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Just as I pulled my head away from his shoulder he turned around in my embrace and hugged me back, just as strongly as I had hugged him. He was crushing me, but I didn’t care.

“Wonwoo—” I managed to mutter out as I wiggled out of his embrace, torso aching in certain spots, “Are you alright?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed as he ran his fingers through my short hair, resting his hand on my nape, “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

I became even more confused at Wonwoo’s words, searching his face for some sort of tell, but there was none, “Well…did you not hear?”

I decided to feel around, scared that I had to be the one to tell him. It would break me seeing him in pain.

“Hear what?” Wonwoo asked confused, his thumb rubbing my jugular, it was slightly distracting.

“Oh, well—” I cleared my throat and licked my lips, “Mina—”

“Oh, that.” Wonwoo muttered and looked down, his grip slightly tightening on my nape, but I said nothing as I watched his expression. He seemed unphased almost, like he wanted to look sad but it wasn’t working. My eyebrows furrowed when Wonwoo sniffed, yet there were no tears in his eyes. He clearly wasn’t alright, and I felt horrible for even reminding him of her death.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you sorry, did you kill her?” He suddenly looked up and his sharp eyes were piercing into mine, and I suddenly stuttered before shutting my lips. What? He looked so…cold. As if he didn’t care at all.

“No, I just—”

“Y/N,” He grabbed both of my cheeks with his hands and pulled me into him, our foreheads almost touching, “You are the love of my life and whatever happened to Mina…she had it coming.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Wonwoo with even more confusion. He didn’t actually mean that, right? How could he…he cared for her once.

“She was murdered, Wonwoo.” I whispered; my voice almost trembling. Wonwoo sighed and swiftly kissed my forehead, but it didn’t reassure me like it usually did, no, it made a chill run down my spine.

“I know, but she cheated on me multiple times, sugar, I do not care what has happened to her.” Wonwoo’s voice was sinister, almost gloating if I hadn’t known him better, “But she deserves it.”

My mouth opened in a gasp as I shook my head, refusing to comprehend the words which were leaving his lips, but also shocked and trying to process what he could really mean by saying that. But before I could voice my thoughts, his warm lips were pressing against mine softly, our noses touching. His was cold as it was really windy outside and I pulled back from the kiss, opening my eyes to gaze into his. I couldn’t read what he was feeling, his face expressionless and somehow so cold.

“I love you.” Wonwoo muttered before he let go of me and stepped back, grabbing his helmet off his motorbike. I watched him as he grabbed his backpack as well, trying to go over what has happened in the last few minutes, realizing this was just probably Wonwoo’s way of processing the traumatic news of last night’s happening. I knew deep down he was feeling miserable, he just didn’t want to show it in order to not worry me even more. I felt sympathetic for him and as he looked at me, it shocked me how much hatred was behind his irises, but it was gone just as quickly as it came, and it made me wonder if I had started seeing things. The news must be affecting me real bad if I couldn’t decide anymore what my boyfriend’s reactions meant.

           Today was grim. Everyone’s mood was bad and students almost whispered to each other despite it being our long break. Myoi Mina’s death has affected all of us, it was obvious. Everyone seemed to hold some sadness in their eyes and somehow they seemed to be more sympathetic towards fellow students. Even the teachers tried to be nicer to us. An hour ago we held a memorial for Myoi Mina at the football field of our high-school and once we were dismissed we quickly hurried back to our classrooms as the wind started picking up once again. The weather seemed to worsen as we reached noon and currently we were bundled up in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy our lunches. However, I found it rather hard to swallow the mashed potatoes as I overheard the girls next to our table talking about Mina’s brutal murder. I found the topic insensible and rude to talk about, especially since they seemed to be giggling about it from time to time, wondering whether the criminal looked hot or not. Kim Yerim, my best friend, seemed to have had enough as well as she slammed her fork down against the table, the loud sound catching those girls’ attention.

“Listen here, insensible cunts, if you want to gossip about that poor girl’s terrible death and fantasize about a murderer, go do it in your bedrooms and not in the cafeteria where everyone can hear you and realize just how fucking stupid you are!” Yerim’s words were harsh, always having been a brutally honest person, and it caught the attention of a few more students around us who seemed to be agreeing with her as they shot nasty glares at the gossiping girls. They seemed to be offended and one even gasped as she stood up, causing an unnecessary scene.

“How dare you call us—insensible cunts?!” Her voice rose and Yeri scoffed, giving her an amused grin.

“I was merely telling the truth, sweetheart.” Yerim answered back and I turned my head to look at the girl who was very pathetically gasping for air.

“I think everyone around us knows by now that you just want your five-minute fame, so settle down before you embarrass yourself furthermore.” I spoke up, trying to ease up the tension, but I figured I only did worse by saying that. The girl’s friend gasped loudly and both were standing up now, looking down at Yerim and I as if we were some monsters.

“Look who’s talking about fame, Y/N.” The second friend, who was blonde and had a pixie cut, looked at me maliciously, “Aren’t you the one dating Myoi Mina’s ex?”

Yerim and I glanced at each other, not understanding the correlation here, “I am, and so what about that?”

“Ah, look at her talk about fame,” The first one who caused this scene mocked, she had jet black eyes, “You’re acting as if you’re an angel when it’s because of you Wonwoo and Mina broke up. Did you know he cheated on her with you?”

I gulped, feeling the eyes of many students on me. This information was wrong, merely a gossip Mina spread around after she found out Wonwoo started going out with me out of jealousy. It didn’t last for long, the gossip, because a week later Mina and I talked and cleared things up. I held no harsh feelings against her and she apologized, realizing how foolish she was, and promised to make things right.

“That’s not true.” I said as I glared at the two girls, “Mina spread that rumor around out of jealousy—”

“Are you seriously bad-mouthing a dead person right now?!” The blonde one exclaimed in outrage and I couldn’t believe my ears. Suddenly I was the bad guy when I just wanted to protect someone who couldn’t do it anymore themselves. I could hear my ears ringing and my jaw clenched as I glared at the two. Yerim was just as appealed as I was and she slowly stood up, expression menacing.

“Look who’s playing the victim now.” Yerim chuckled and went around her chair, oh no, this was going to be bad. I stood up and grabbed my friend’s arm, knowing she’d get physical if no one was there to restrict her. Yerim always struggled with her anger issues, but when someone was disrespected she couldn’t help it, she saw red. I glanced around and gulped nervously, too many people were watching us now. And they were whispering too. I didn’t want this. Today out of all days this was so unnecessary.

“Yerim—” I spoke up, but before any of us could say anything else, Wonwoo and Soonyoung, his best friend, approached our table, each holding a tray full with food.

“What’s your problem, Hyuna?” Wonwoo snapped, blazing eyes glaring at the girl with the pixie cut, “Are you letting out your frustration on Y/N now that Mina’s gone? What? Are you going to beg me soon to leave Y/N for you?! Just like you did when I was dating Mina?”

My mouth fell open as Yerim and I looked at each other shocked, and even the students who were fully watching the commotion now, seemed surprised. The blonde one, Hyuna, turned red in the face and she gasped, looking at Wonwoo with her mouth gaping.

“That’s—that’s not—” She stuttered, shrinking under Wonwoo’s harsh glare, “That’s not what I was doing!”

“But you were speaking poorly of a dead girl.” Wonwoo said nonchalantly and Hyuna gulped as her friend took her hand and started pulling her away. I think they realized they have embarrassed themselves enough. Soonyoung started cackling as everyone watched the two girls basically run out of the cafeteria and he had the audacity to shout after them, “Look, Hyuna! I’m still available!”

His words elicited laughter from many students as they called Hyuna pathetic and everyone slowly went back to their lunch, Yerim and I long forgotten as we both sat down with Wonwoo and Soonyoung now having joined us. Wonwoo sat next to me and he kissed my cheek as I offered him a small smile, checking his face for any reaction. Perhaps a change of heart since the morning. But he still looked…fine, uncaring. Sooyoung, to Yerim’s dismay, sat next to her and she quietly sighed when he leaned close to her and whispered something, making her push his face away. Sooyoung giggled and I glanced at him, observing his attitude too. He looked like himself, as if Mina didn’t die, as if Mina and him didn’t even know each other.

“How are you feeling, Soonyoung?” I found myself asking my boyfriend’s best friend, curious.

Soonyoung looked up just as he stuffed his face with a chicken wing and grinned, “Quite well, thank you!”

Wonwoo cleared his throat next to me and I glanced at him briefly, but he was staring at Soonyoung quite coldly, “Oh—I mean, quite well despite the shocking news…I mean, how terrible, isn’t it?”

Yerim glanced at Wonwoo before she looked at Soonyoung and her eyes narrowed at the blonde, “At least you could try sounding more genuine next time, Soonyoung.” She emphasized his name as she gave him a glare. Yerim has never been fond of Soonyoung, she found him obnoxious, loud, dumb and overbearing. Despite Soonyoung’s efforts to get her to like him, she refused to spend any time with him if Wonwoo and I weren’t there.

“Yeah, you knew her quite well…” I found myself mumbling to no one in particular as I ate my lunch, but it seemed like everyone from our table heard me. Yerim nodded along. It was weird seeing the two boys so uncaring towards Myoi Mina’s death, after all, Soonyoung was the one who introduced Mina to Wonwoo.

“Oh, come on.” Soonyoung scoffed and leaned back in his seat, an irritated smirk crossing his lips, “That bitch whined all the time if something didn’t go her way. She didn’t let anyone breathe around her unless they first pleased her and my God—if Wonwoo wasn’t with her it was the end of the world, and if Wonwoo was there—why was he showing her no affection?!”

Wonwoo placed his fork down and placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward and placing his chin on his knuckles, “Thank you for you input, Soonyoung, although I’d like to enjoy my lunch without hearing about my ex-girlfriend’s death…again.”

It was the most emotion Wonwoo had shown all day and I grabbed his hand, squeezing it and offering him a small smile. He looked at me, seemingly still pissed off at Soonyoung, but offered me a small smile back. Yerim was silent as she watched the two boys before shaking her head and taking a sip from her glass of water. I knew how she felt about them, she never liked them too much, but they were good boys. A bit odd, but well-intended.

“Fine,” Soonyoung muttered displeased as he took another chicken wing, eyeing Yerim from the corner of his eyes, “but the bitch deserved it.”

“Excuse me?!” It was Yerim who was appealed this time, her reaction being the same as mine when Wonwoo said it. She just reacted stronger than I had. I was quite speechless, she rarely was.

“Nothing.” Soonyoung smiled sweetly at my best friend and I could feel my heartbeat pick up when Wonwoo’s tongue poked his cheek from the inside of his mouth, a clear sign he was getting angry. I looked at him, but he was glaring daggers at Soonyoung. Thinking quickly, I looked down at his plate and touched his thigh, trying to get his attention.

“You don’t like chicken wings,” I said with a smile as I pointed at my plate, “You can take my fried cheese.”

Wonwoo’s attention was back on me and his eyebrows furrowed, “You don’t look chicken wings either—”

“Don’t worry, I’m full already.” I smiled, I wasn’t full, in fact. But they were probably out of fried cheese and Wonwoo was quite particular about what he ate. I didn’t want him to be hungry until we got home.

“How sweet,” Soonyoung cooed from the other end of the table and both Wonwoo and I glanced at him, “She’s so caring, Won, don’t you just love her?”

He sounded quite mocking and I sighed, starting to get fed up with Soonyoung. I had no idea what his problem was today, but I didn’t enjoy being around him anymore. Wonwoo sensed my discomfort and shook his head at Soonyoung.

“Yes, I love her.” Soonyoung grinned widely and chuckled, shaking his head. He looked at Yerim and reached out for her hand, but she quickly took it off the table and gave him a glare.

“Don’t you want us to be sweet like them?” Soonyoung blinked cutely at Yerim, leaning closer to her, “How about—we go out on a date tonight?”

“Soonyoung,” Yerim scoffed and leaned closer, smirking at him, “For the nth time—no. I don’t like you and I will never date you. Stop being so fucking obnoxious all the time, thanks.”

Soonyoung tsked and shook his head, “You’re gonna get killed one day for talking like that to me.”

His words were barely audible but both Yerim and I caught it. Our heads whipped in his direction and he looked up innocently, blinking at us confusedly, “What?”

“Soonyoung, come to the wending machine.” Wonwoo abruptly stood up and smiled at his friend, however it didn’t reach his eyes, “Now.”

Wonwoo became demanding once Soonyoung made no sign of wanting to move and the blonde just sighed before getting up slowly, winking at Yerim before walking up to Wonwoo. Wonwoo swiftly grabbed his nape and pulled him away from us, making Soonyoung exclaim in annoyance. Yerim turned to look at me and I sighed, eating some more of my mashed potatoes.

“What is wrong with them?!” She whisper snapped as she watched me. I shrugged and ignored my friend, not wanting to think too deeply of what’s happened the past few minutes. Wonwoo was weird all day, but he’s been even weirder ever since they sat down to have lunch with us. Soonyoung’s words were even more unsettling and my head was a mess currently, I didn’t want Yerim questioning everything as well.

“Nothing.” I muttered back, head lowered as I tried to eat some more. Wonwoo took the fried cheese I gave him and I pushed the chicken wings to the side of my plate, I really hated them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Y/N.” Yerim snapped and grabbed my elbow, making me look at her, “Something is very wrong with Soonyoung and we both know it. He’s giving me the creeps now more than ever before. Did you hear the things he was saying about Mina? How is that alright? How could he even think them and then say them—”

“I don’t know.” I snapped, getting pissed, “And I don’t want to know. This whole situation scares me and I’m not taking it well, okay? Everyone is talking about it and it’s making me lose my mind. I’m scared, okay? Can you at least, please, just drop it?!”

Yerim looked down and released my elbow, feeling bad for bringing this up again. I had already told her in the morning how scared I was of this whole ordeal, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you more. I just noticed things and wanted to tell you, because Wonwoo’s been weird too. He has always been, but today out of all days…he’s too quiet.”

“Wonwoo’s always quiet.” I chuckled and Yerim rolled her eyes.

“Not like this, you know what I mean…” She deadpanned and I huffed, turning back towards my plate.

“Whatever, you’re just being paranoid.”

“I’d rather be paranoid than dead.” Yerim muttered and I groaned, nudging her leg with mine underneath the desk. She giggled and started stealing the chicken wings off my plate as she glanced back, “I’ll take these before Soonyoung gets back and asks for them.”

I giggled and nodded at her, offering her my whole plate. I wasn’t full, but my appetite was long gone. I just wanted to be close to Wonwoo right now.

           I pulled the curtain to the side as I peeked out the window, eyebrows furrowing at the strike of lightning. The weather was horrible once again. It’s been raining almost the whole week. Mina’s murder was still fresh in everyone’s minds and people were cautious. It’s been three days only, after all. Today was her funeral and it was really sad. Many people showed up, although I preferred to stand towards the back, Wonwoo went ahead and offered his condolences to her parents who burst out in tears once they saw him. It made me realize how well liked Wonwoo was by the parents and elders in our town. He truly had a good soul and it was hard not to love him. My mother was working the night shift again tonight and as I didn’t feel comfortable staying home alone yet, Yerim and I agreed to have a sleepover tonight, however, she was still at the pool. She was a professional swimmer and she’s been training hard for the past half year for the upcoming national competition her team was to attend. I watched as the lighting struck again and waited for Yerim to pick up as my phone continued ringing. There was a chance she was still in the water, but I was hoping she wasn’t. We were supposed to meet half an hour ago, but she was running late.

“Hi!” Suddenly Yerim picked up and I smiled, closing the curtain, “Sorry, coach extended today’s training.”

She sounded breathless, “I figured, don’t worry. I still have some things to pack; do you want me to pick up pizza on my way to you?”

“Oh, pizza!” Yerim giggled and I heard someone shouting in the background for her, “One second coach—I’m supposed to be on a diet, Y/N, but sure.”

“Okay, one pepperoni pizza it is, then.” We both giggled.

“Wait—wasn’t I supposed to pick you up though?” Yerim asked and I went to my closet to take out my pajamas.

“You were, but since you’re running late I’ll drive myself, don’t worry.” The pool was a bit further from my house and I knew she was usually tired after practices; I didn’t want to burden her more.

“Thank you! See you!” I greeted her back before Yerim hung up and I finished packing the essentials before dressing up in my comfy sweater. It was actually Wonwoo’s but he gave it to me after I told him I liked the fabric of it. His cologne still lingered on it and I smiled as I nuzzled my nose against the collar of the black sweater. When he’d come over, every once in a while, he’d bring his cologne with him and spray it on the sweaters which were once his, so that I could feel him close to me even if he wasn’t here. It was a sweet gesture and it still brought butterflies to my stomach. There was another lightning strike and the thunder followed instantly, making me yelp at the loud rumble of it. My cat meowed loudly from the hallway and I opened my door, beckoning her over with a pout. She hated storms just as much as I did.

“Come, Byeol, this weather is driving me crazy.” She meowed back as if she understood me and jumped into my arms once I kneeled down to hold her. She nuzzled her head against my chin and I giggled, starting to pet her. She was a black cat with light green eyes which sparkled like stars, hence her name, Byeol. Mom bought her for me five years ago when I started complaining about being scared when she’d have her night shifts. I hated staying home alone at night until I got Byeol. She brought a sense of security with her and it made me appreciate her even more.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone tonight, Byeol, you won’t be too mad at me, right?” I whispered at my cat as I played with her ears, she was purring loudly, “Mom will be back by five in the morning, so you won’t be staying alone for too long.”

Byeol meowed loudly and I chuckled kissing her head before placing her down on the floor gently and standing up to grab the charger of my phone, which I almost forgot to pack. I looked around the room and mentally checked off everything from my imaginary list of what I had to bring with myself to Yerim’s and picked up my backpack, making kissy faces at Byeol. She followed after me as I turned off the light in my room and walked down the hallway, headed for the stairs, when my phone suddenly started ringing. I looked down at the caller and saw Yerim was calling me, maybe she changed her mind about that peperoni pizza.

“Hi, Yerim—”

“Y/N!” Her voice was panicked and I stopped in my tracks, right at the top of the stairs, “Someone’s—following me!”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, this was out of character for Yerim, “What? I don’t understand—what’s happening?!”

“I’m at the pool—” There was a loud crash and Yerim gasped, “I’m scared—a masked man—they are following me—”

“Yerim, are you being serious?!” My heart picked up as I raced down the stairs, backpack long forgotten as Byeol looked at me confused.

“Yes!” She exclaimed and she started whimpering, making my hands tremble, “They have a knife, Y/N!”

I could barely pull on my tennis shoes when I heard her words, “Hide!”

“I’m in the locker room but I couldn’t find the keys—” There was a loud bang and a sob left Yerim’s lips, bringing tears to my eyes.

“I’m on my way, I’m calling the police—”

“Don’t hang up, please!” Yerim was crying and I was shaking so badly that I could barely grab my keys.

“Yerim, I have to—” I was cut off by Yerim’s scream.

“No! No, stop! Please!”

“Yerim!” I screamed as I slammed the front door shut and struggled to lock it. I sprinted towards my car, ignoring the cold raindrops crashing against the pavement and myself, “Yerim, are you there—”

But another scream cut me off and I started crying, feeling helpless as I listened to my friend’s painful sobs. Just as I reached my car and unlocked it, the line went dead and I panicked even more, hands trembling so hard I could barely dial 112.

“112 what’s your emergency—”

“Please, I think someone’s murdering my friend! She’s at the pool on Wellington’s street, nr. 18. Please! Help her!”

“Ma’am, calm down, can you tell us your name?” The woman on the other side of the phone tried to calm me down, but I couldn’t hear her words. I had to get to Yerim before it was too late. I had already started my car and was pulling out of the garage as I started rambling mindlessly about where Yerim was and that they had to get to her right now.

“Ma’am, calm down and tell us your name.” The woman tried again and I wiped my tears away as I speed down the streets.

“My name is not important! Get to my friend! Her name is Kim Yerim for fucks sake!” I screamed as I rushed past a red light, barely avoiding getting hit. I didn’t care what happened, I only had Yerim in mind, I had to get to her. No, this couldn’t be happening. She’s playing a sick prank on me, she must be. Otherwise…no. No. No. It’s not the murdered. No. They aren’t targeting her, she’s probably just playing around—I slammed on the brakes when I saw someone crossing the road, screaming at them to get the hell away as I started driving again.

“Ma’am, where are you right now?” Suddenly, I heard the woman’s voice through my phone, forgetting I hadn’t hung up.

“In the car, I have to get to my friend.”

“You can’t drive in the state you are—”

“What do you know about that!” I snapped and took a harsh left turn, realizing I was just two blocks away.

“Ma’am, officers are already at the scene, your friend is safe.” The woman tried to calm me down but I shook my head.

“I’ll believe that when I see her with my own eyes.” I reached over and hung up, pulling up to the building as the flashing lights of police cars blinded me for a second. I parked the car and got out without turning the engine off, uncaring of the rain which drenched me in seconds, as I ran towards two officers who were just getting out of their cars.

“My friend—where is she?!” I asked breathless, but they just looked at each other and I didn’t wait for their answers, I pushed past them and ran inside the building. There were more police officers and I saw the entrance to the pool being tapped off, and I instantly knew. Something inside my stomach dropped. I heard nothing and I saw nothing. I had to know. I couldn’t just stand there and wait for the news to be delivered to me. So when three police officers noticed me and demandingly told me I had to leave, I pushed past them and sprinted to the doors leading inside the pool. They were already opened, and I could see everything. The blood. All over the floor, coloring the water. And I could see her. Face down. Floating in the water. Her black hair sprawled out around her. Her favorite swimming suit still on. My ears were ringing and my heart was thumping so fast I started seeing black. I couldn’t hear anything. I felt cold hands gripping my arms, but I couldn’t move. It’s like I was there, but I wasn’t. My hearing only came back when I found myself screaming her name and trashing around in the firm hold of the officers, who were pulling me away from the scene.

“No! Stop!” I screamed, sobbing loudly as I tried to fight them off still, “That’s my best friend! I need to see her! I need to be there for her! Don’t you understand?!”

“Bring her to the ambulance, give her a sedative.” I heard one officer say and I started shaking my head as my body went slack and I could only cry.

“But Yerim—” Suddenly I felt myself being lifted in someone’s arms and I curled into the person, crying loudly.

“It will be alright, miss, cry as much as you need.” A man, with a comforting voice, said reassuringly as I was outside again, the rain still pouring hard. I felt us running until the rain wasn’t hitting me anymore and I was sat inside an ambulance.

“Please—” I whispered, grabbing the officer’s hand as he went to pull away, “Save her.”

I saw sorrow in his eyes, as if he knew something I didn’t, as if he understood something I refused to believe in, “We will try our best, miss. Can you promise me you’ll stay here?”

I nodded and wiped my tears away, but new ones came rushing down my cheeks. I was cold. My body was shaking. I hugged myself and curled up into a ball as I tried to comfort myself, but nothing could bring comfort right now. I started mumbling, it was okay. Everything was okay. That wasn’t Yerim. Yerim was playing a prank on me. Yerim was hiding in the locker room and laughing her ass off, because she loved drama and attention. Yes, that is what was happening.

“Miss—miss—” I jumped when someone touched me and I grumbled at them to stay away from me, “Can you tell me your name?”

I didn’t want to talk, but when they asked me again, I snapped at them, “Kang Y/N!”

“Thank you,” The lady had a very calm voice and I felt her touch me again but I pulled my arm away, once again, “Can you tell me how old you are?”

“Why are you asking me all these questions?!” I snapped again, raising my voice, “You’re supposed to help my friend! Go help her!”

“I’m supposed to help you, Miss Kang—”

“No, because I’m fine—”

“Y/N?!” A familiar voice asked from behind the doctor lady and my eyebrows furrowed when I looked past her and came to see Soonyoung. Why was he here? What was he doing here?

“What?” I whispered confused, glancing back at the doctor who was preparing an injection and I started shaking again, “What are you doing with that?!”

The doctor said nothing as she sighed and walked closer, making Soonyoung protest as well, “Young man, stay out of this unless you want to be sedated as well.”

“Sedated?!” I exclaimed and went to stand up, but suddenly someone from behind held me down and I just realized I wasn’t sitting alone in the ambulance. I started trashing around, trying to free myself as the doctor was now standing right in front of me and I started crying once again when she started feeling around for my vein.

“Please go help my friend—” The doctor shushed me and I whimpered when the needle entered my skin, the doctor injecting the sedative inside my body.

“She’s in shock,” I heard her say as my muscles slowly started to loosen, as if they weren’t listening to me anymore, “She started calming down but you triggered her again, I’m asking you to step back and let her be.”

I realized she was talking to Soonyoung as I was laid down on the stretcher inside the ambulance and the doctor checked my eyes before nodding at someone. I was covered by a blanket and I sniffed as I continued crying quietly, my body feeling numb all of a sudden.

“You should rest now; everything will be alright.” I heard someone saying to me as I felt my eyelids get heavy and I tried shaking my head and telling them that I needed to be next to Yerim, but my mouth wouldn’t move.

“Can you let me stay with her? I’m her friend, I also knew Yerim.” I heard Soonyoung saying before he climbed inside the ambulance. Knew Yerim? Why in past tense? Yerim was fine, what was he talking about? Why is he here?

“It’ll be fine, Y/N.” I felt a hand patting my wet hair as my mind was slowly losing consciousness, “Yerim was a strong girl, but too stubborn for her own good. I just couldn’t help it…”

Before my brain could comprehend Soonyoung’s words, everything became black and I fell into a state of unconsciousness. Did I lose my best friend?

           It was all so blurry. The past two weeks. Everything went by quickly, Yerim disappeared so suddenly. She was here, next to me, laughing and being excited about her up-coming tournament one moment, and the next…I watched her coffin being lowered into the cold, wet ground. I had no tears left to cry at her funeral, I could only watch with a blank stare as her coffin was slowly getting covered by the dirt, swallowing her forever, robbing her from me. I felt nothing. My skin was cold, I was shaking. It was a sunny day and everyone wore short sleeves, but I was wearing a long sleeve and a coat. I could hear the priest saying a prayer, Yerim’s mother weeping next to me and her husband gasping for air, but I couldn’t actually hear them. It was as if I was underwater. Yerim’s smiling framed picture, which I was clutching, was the only thing reminding me that I was at the funeral, present physically, but so far away mentally. Someone held my shoulder, but I couldn’t be bothered to check who it was, I just shook their touch off and stared blankly at Yerim’s tombstone. I read her name, her year of birth and day of death, and I broke. The priest had just finished talking, ceremony ended, when my body started shaking violently, sobs raking my whole being. My legs were weak, and my feet hurt from the high heels I only wore because Yerim loved them and complained I never wore them. The sun was suddenly so hot, the coat and long sleeve were suffocating me, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do this. I just couldn’t. Why did they kill her? What did she do? Why her? Why not me?! I knew my sobs turned into wailing and my feet gave up and suddenly, I was on my knees, clutching the framed picture to my chest and trying to find my breath, but my sobs wouldn’t let me. It hurt so much, my chest was in pain, it felt as if someone was trying to rip my heart out. Suddenly, I felt strong hands gripping me by the elbows as I was lifted up. My body was limp so I did not fight back when the person turned me around and cupped my cheeks. My mind was far gone from the present, from what was happening, but I’d recognize his hands anywhere, anytime. They were big, warm, and soft. Wonwoo’s thumb started rubbing my cheek reassuringly and I found strength to open my eyes, still sobbing. His face was emotionless, but his eyes were soft and I knew he felt powerless for not being able to support me. But I appreciated his presence here, he calmed me, the aching wasn’t as bad as before. I tried taking deep breaths, my sobbing coming to silently crying as I hoarsely apologized to Yerim’s parents for creating a scene right at the end of the funeral. They shook their heads and brushed it off, engulfing me in a big hug as Wonwoo stepped back, and they tried to cheer me up with reassuring words, but they only broke me more. They were so supportive and loving, they always let Yerim follow her dreams and encouraged her to become her better self. They did not deserve to lose their brilliant daughter in such an ill manner. When her parents let me go I bowed deeply to them and handed them her framed picture, making her mother cry again. Her father took it from me and then they turned their backs and slowly started walking away. I turned towards my mom and Wonwoo and nodded at them, ready to leave as well. I didn’t want to go yet, but I had to. I had to learn to live without my best friend. Without my other half. As we started walking away, my eyes fell on a figure dressed in all black, head hanging low. His blond hair made it easy to recognize him, it was Soonyoung. He was gazing absent mindedly at Yerim’s grave and my eyebrows furrowed as I watched him. He looked emotionless, something foreign to Soonyoung. His eyes seemed to be red, but he wasn’t crying. Suddenly, he took off towards the grave and before I could follow him with my eyes, Wonwoo squeezed my hand and asked me if I wanted to have some lunch his mother cooked. I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want to refuse. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch time. And my mother seemed to cheer up a little bit at the idea of seeing Mrs. Jeon, so I agreed to that lunch. And as my mother opened the door for me before going to the driver’s seat, I glanced back at Yerim’s grave and furrowed my eyebrows. We were far from it, but not so far that I couldn’t see Soonyoung’s face. And he was smiling. I felt goosebumps erupting on my skin as I quickly got inside the car, his words from when he sat with me in the ambulance as I was falling unconscious ringing through my mind, ‘I just couldn’t help it…’.

Everything was hard after the funeral. Time really went by fast and I found myself doing nothing but staring out of my head, reminiscing about all the memories I had with Yerim. We’ve been best friends since primary school. I had no other friends, nobody that could live up to her or to our bond. I had no one to talk to suddenly, no one to annoy and no one to listen to as they told their ridiculous stories. It was so hard. I couldn’t eat, some nights I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t focus in school or when I had to study. Wonwoo tried to help and studied with me for a hard test, but it did nothing as I failed it. The teachers were understanding and they weren’t pushing me too hard, but for how long would I have their pity? How long until they start calling me out and telling me to get a grip and move on? Sometimes, in the hallways, I would see Myoi Mina’s best friend and I understood. I understood the sorrow in her eyes, the way she wouldn’t even look at anyone else but the ground. How she’d jump at the tiniest sound and how she’d brush off anyone who tried to talk to her. I was like that too, although I was trying hard not to be, it just wasn’t working. A girl who knew Yerim tried to take her seat yesterday and I flipped and screamed at her horrendous things for trying to do so. I felt horrible after that, but it didn’t matter, I was sent to our school’s therapist. He didn’t do much, just gave me some tips on how to grieve, told me to contact him if I started feeling worse, and then sent me on my merry way. I was already feeling the worst, could this get any worse? Wonwoo was understanding, but I could see he was growing restless. He’d snap at me when I’d refuse hanging out with him for the fourth time that week, but he’d instantly apologize saying he understood and he was also dealing with grief. Yerim and him weren’t very close, but they spent a lot of time together because of me, of course he was grieving too. However, Soonyoung was nowhere to be found. Some say his parents took him away on a retreat after he snapped at his younger sister at home, Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about him when asked. It was strange. Their behavior. Wonwoo would become tense when anyone mentioned the killer but when I’d ask if everything was alright he’d become defensive and say he was just stressed.

Tonight was one of those nights when I was restless and couldn’t stay at home anymore, so I went for a walk. My mom was cooking dinner and after playing with Byeol, I grabbed my coat and told my mom I’d be taking a walk in the neighborhood. She asked me to be home in half an hour as it was getting dark and rainy clouds started gathering on the sky. I missed Yerim a lot, and I couldn’t help but think about how excited she’d get whenever it rained. One summer we went down to the lake and it started raining hard, but despite that, Yerim still went and swum in the lake, splashing me repeatedly, making me go in with her despite being scared. Without meaning to, I found myself walking by Yerim’s house. I glanced up at her window, but of course the light wasn’t on. Of course it wouldn’t be on, why would it be? Yerim wasn’t there studying. I wished she was so that I could convince her to hang out with me and Byeol, but she wasn’t here with us anymore. The front door to their house opened and I smiled when I saw her father walking down the porch stairs. He looked up and spotted me, waving at me, as he was headed towards me.

“Good evening, Mr. Kim.” I greeted him and he smiled, opening the gate for me.

“Hello there, Y/N. What brings you here?” His eyes had always reminded me of Yerim’s, and their laughter was the same.

“I was taking a walk in the neighborhood, and found myself wandering here…” Yerim’s father’s face seemed to lose the little happiness he displayed and he sighed, glancing back, up at Yerim’s window.

“I understand, sometimes I find myself walking up to her room in the mornings, wanting to wake her up…” I bit my lower lip and Mr. Kim sighed before looking back at me, “Would you like to come inside? My wife baked those muffins you two girls really like.”

I found myself smiling, Mrs. Kim’s chocolate muffins were the best, whenever she baked them, Yerim and I would devour them in an hour, “If I’m not bothering too much…”

“Non-sense, child.” Mr. Kim laughed and stepped aside, allowing me inside their property. I bowed my head a little at him and walked through the gate, “I’m headed to the supermarket, want anything?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Kim!” He nodded and patted my head before he left through the gate, walking down the street, headed for the closest supermarket. Mr. Kim had always been the father figure I never had. He had also always treated me as his daughter. He was the one who taught me how to swim and how to ride a bicycle as my mother was too busy at the hospital. My parents divorced when I was really young and my father disappeared after that despite promising to come by sometimes and pay for the allowance. I shook my head at the thought of my absent father and walked up to the front door, knocking on it before walking inside. There was some jazz music playing quietly in the background as the delicious muffin smell wafted through the air. I took off my shoes and coat, and walked towards the kitchen, knocking on the door, realizing Mrs. Kim didn’t hear me entering.

“Oh, you’re back—Y/N!” A wide smile spread on Mrs. Kim’s face when she saw me and she rushed up to me, hugging me tightly, “How lovely you stepped by! We haven’t seen you since—”

Since the funeral, “Right, I was out for a walk and found myself passing by. Mr. Kim and I just happened to run into each other, he invited me inside.”

“How smart of him,” Mrs. Kim chuckled; however you could see she wasn’t feeling as giddy as she was acting, “I just happened to bake your favorite chocolate muffins.”

And Yerim’s. I smiled gratefully at Mrs. Kim as she handed me two chocolate muffins, which were still warm, “Thank you.”

“I will pack some for you to take home. I baked too much either way, my husband and I don’t have a sweet tooth, I just missed the smell of it. Your mother loves them too, she’ll be happy for the small gift.” Yerim might’ve looked like his father, but she talked just as much as her mother. When you’d sit down with the two of them and listen to their stories, time would fly by and you wouldn’t even notice. They had a very captivating way of speaking, conversing with them never felt awkward or boring.

“Thank you, she will probably give you a call when she gets them.” I said with a chuckle and Mrs. Kim smiled.

“As she should, we haven’t talked in a while…” Since Yerim’s funeral, but she didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to say it either. It felt nice being in their home after two weeks. I always felt so welcomed here. The house was bright and homey, Yerim and Mrs. Kim having decorated it in an eccentric way, which would sometimes give Mr. Kim a headache. I looked behind me and glanced at the stair leading upstairs as Mrs. Kim placed some muffins in a smaller bag. She turned back and noticed me staring back at the stairs.

“You can go up, if you want to—Yerim wouldn’t mind it, I know.” Mrs. Kim spoke up and I nodded at her gratefully, placing the muffins I was holding on the table, before hurrying up the stairs and beelining it for her room. I hesitated for a second before opening the door, preparing myself for her absence, but it still hit me hard when I opened the door to darkness. I gulped and turned on the light, blinking away the tears which suddenly sprung to my eyes. Her room was the same, messy but not exactly. Her closet door was slightly opened and I could see her pink hoodie spilling out and I chuckled as I walked over and grabbed it. I always told her to just hang her hoodies up, but she never listened to me. As I held it in my hands, Yerim’s sweet scent hit my nose and I bit my lower lip, taking a deep breath. I placed her hoodie on the bed and pulled my long sleeve over my head before pulling her hoodie on and closing my eyes. My skin got covered in goosebumps as I imagined Yerim sitting in her chair and complaining about me wearing her favorite hoodie, but secretly not being bothered by it at all. We always shared our clothes when we’d have sleepovers, even tried them on and did a fake fashion show or acted as if had to sell them to each other at ridiculous prices. The hoodie’s fabric slowly warmed up and I opened my eyes, looking around her room. Her parents haven’t touched anything and I was reluctant to do so too, so I sat down on her bed and started playing with my fingers. The book I recommended to her to read was on her desk, bookmark somewhere at the middle of the book. She never got to read the mind-blowing plot twist, it made me sad, she would’ve loved it so much. Feeling a bit stuffy, I stood up and opened the window before going back to her bed and jumping on it, sprawling out on it. Yerim’s bed was always so comfortable, her blanket puffy, and bed covered in stuffed animals. I turned onto my stomach and started humming my favorite song as I stared up at the pictures above her bed, smiling as most were with the two of us. Our favorite pictures or just really silly ones. Yerim had big dreams compared to me, I was still struggling to decide what to do after high-school. My eyes went to her nightstand and I grinned when I noticed her favorite strawberry candy laying in her jar. It was the last one. I would always steal it, so I did just that. Hopefully, wherever Yerim was, she could see me right now and she’d be frowning and shaking her head at me. I loved annoying her like that. I unwrapped the candy and slowly ate it, chuckling at myself and how silly I must look. As I threw the wrapper on the nightstand, my eyes widened when I noticed her phone next to her lamp. Her parents must’ve placed it there. It surprised me for some reason, and as I reached for it and grabbed it, a twig snapped outside Yerim’s window and something hit the window. I gasped loudly and turned around, coming face to face with Soonyoung, as he had just climbed inside. I quickly placed Yerim’s phone in the hoodie’s pocket, something told me to hide it from Soonyoung.

“What are you doing here?!” I asked alarmed, heart beating fast from the scare. Soonyoung looked around before leaning against Yerim’s desk.

“I was running and saw light coming from her room—”

“So you just climb inside?!” I asked accusingly and Soonyoung shook his head.

“No, I didn’t meant to, but I saw it was you and—” He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor, “I don’t know…I just felt the need to talk to you.”

It made me realize this was the first time seeing him since Yerim’s funeral. And based on rumors, he wasn’t even supposed to be home.

“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you in school and Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about you.” I asked and Soonyoung looked up with a cold gaze, he looked tired.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was visiting my grandparents for a week, and I didn’t feel like going to school this week, so yeah.” Soonyoung explained and I nodded, taking in his posture. His shoulders were slumped and his forehead sweaty. He was out running, after all.

“And you?” Soonyoung cleared his throat, “Are you good?”

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, thinking through my answer, “On some days I’m good, on some days I can’t eat nor sleep. I’m feeling content at the moment, but maybe that’s because we’re standing in Yerim’s room and I’m wearing her hoodie and I can just trick myself into believing that she’s downstairs with her mom or taking a shower…”

Soonyoung nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking at the hoodie I was wearing, “That was her favorite.” I hummed and he licked his lips, starting to shake his head suddenly.

“You know—if only—” He scoffed and his eyebrows furrowed, “If only she wasn’t so stubborn. She just—she always refused to go out with me, never even gave me a chance. I tried to convince her so many times, you know, I was patient and nice, but—”

I watched as Soonyoung grew agitated and started walking up and down, “But I just couldn’t do it anymore, you know? It’s like, my brain just clicked and I snapped and—”

I was growing confused as I listened to Soonyoung rambling, what did he mean? Snapped and what?, “You snapped and what, Soonyoung?”

“I didn’t want to do it, I swear.” His voice grew low and when he stopped and faced me, he looked different. His expression was dark and his mouth was in a sneer. I gulped and stood up, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Soonyoung didn’t seem to notice my discomfort as he hung his head low and sighed loudly.

“I just couldn’t help it…” I gasped. Those words again. What did he mean by them? He didn’t…no. This is Soonyoung, it’s impossible. He couldn’t have…no. He’s my boyfriend’s best friend, he’d never—he’s not a criminal!

“We should go.” I found my voice as I shook my head, growing afraid all of a sudden. Soonyoung was acting weird and I had to go home now. My words seemed to snap him out of his mumbling and he suddenly looked at me, face void of the previous darkness.

“You’re right…” He nodded and patted my shoulder, offering me a small smile, “Don’t tell her parents I climbed in though, I don’t want them to believe I did this often.”

I forced out a chuckle and watched as he climbed out the window and then jumped down, sneaking away from the Kim’s property. My heart was beating like crazy as I closed Yerim’s window and I clutched her phone firmly in my hand as I turned the light off and closed the door behind me. I always refused to listen to what Yerim has always told me, but maybe, just perhaps, there was something very wrong with Soonyoung.

           Today the sun seemed to finally come out, no rain clouds seemed to appear anytime soon. It was warm for an October day and I found myself sitting in the courtyard, drawing in my notebook to pass time. I wasn’t hungry, so it was useless to go to the Cafeteria. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so when this morning Wonwoo approached me and suggested going on a date after classes, I declined and told him I had to do some catching up in Biology class as I skipped the last two classes having felt unwell. He got moody and stormed off without a word, making me sigh. I was pushing away everyone from myself, but I didn’t know how else to cope with the loss of my best friend. It was the only thing that made me feel content. I drew some harsh lines, trying to create the skyline in my drawing, when I saw someone approaching from the corner of my eyes. I didn’t look up, thinking it was either Wonwoo or Soonyoung, but the girly scent which hit my nose once the person sat next to me on the bench made me turn my head and look at them. It came as a surprise to see Minatozaki Sana sitting next to me, Mina’s best friend. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore a sleeveless turtleneck underneath her cardigan. She looked better than on most days, but her eyes were quite empty. She was staring at me too and I blinked at her in confusion. We never really talked to each other; she was in an entirely different grade than I was.

“Hello.” She broke the silence and I cleared my throat.

“Hi.” I greeted back and looked down at her hand curiously as she extended it towards me.

“My name is Sana; we’ve never been formally introduced to each other.” She seemed like a very straightforward person. I nodded and shook her hand.

“Indeed, my name is Y/N.” Sana hummed and we let go of each other’s hands, “I’m sorry for you loss.”

“I’m sorry for your loss too.” Sana was quick to return my words and I chuckled humorlessly, bringing a sarcastic smile on her lips. She nodded at me and then turned away, gazing at the trees on the other side of the courtyard. I continued watching her, thinking she’d say something else, but she remained silent, even ignored me. Realizing our conversation ended here I shrugged and looked down at my drawing, continuing to draw those harsh lines. And like that, we sat in silence next to each other. Sana proceeded to take out a book and read, and in a weird way, it brought comfort to have someone sitting next to me. But it was weird, if it were Wonwoo or Soonyoung, they would’ve irritated me. Sana’s presence was relaxing, understanding. Words didn’t need to be exchanged, we understood. Our silence was louder than our words could’ve been. I found myself smiling, something I haven’t done in the past four weeks. I glanced at Sana from the corner of my eyes and she was smiling too, sneaking glances at me. Before we could say anything, we both started giggling and it felt so nice. It was so relieving, as if I released all the pent-up stress I had in my muscles.

“We must look so odd to someone if they have been watching us for the past fifteen minutes.” Sana said through her giggles and I shrugged my shoulders.

“That’s the nicest thing someone could be thinking about us at the moment.” I said and Sana nodded, our giggles coming to a stop. Neither of us had to say it, but after Mina’s death there were whispers about Sana. How she killed her best friend because she was jealous of Mina’s success as she was the cheerleading captain and just wanted her position. How they weren’t even friends and kept a façade because their families were friends. Some rumors spread about Sana being in love with Mina, who didn’t reciprocate her feelings, so Sana killed her in a fit of rage. They were awful. And as the students were gossiping about Mina, they were gossiping about me too. I heard the jealousy version too, the need for attention version too, and even the version where Yerim was in love with Wonwoo and I killed her because I couldn’t stand the thought. They were hilarious, but they still got to you after a while. Just last week, Wonwoo almost got into a fight because of a guy who dared to ask me how it felt plunging that knife into Yerim. If Wonwoo wouldn’t have punched the living daylight out of him, I would’ve definitely.

“Don’t let the gossips get to you, they are ridiculous.” Sana said with a roll of her eyes and I nodded, agreeing.

“I know, but they still get bothersome after a while…” I muttered and closed my notebook as the bell rang, signaling our break was over. Sana looked up at the sky for a second and then closed her book, placing it in her backpack.

“You could always just slap them, you know.” She said with a mischievous smile and I chuckled.

“Have you slapped anyone so far?” I asked and Sana pursed her lips.

“Of course, I have,” She stood up, “Johnny thought it was funny talking about my dead friend’s figure and how pitiful it was that he couldn’t sleep with her before she died.”

I didn’t know who this Johnny was, but he deserved that slap, “How disgusting.”

“Indeed.” Sana hummed and waited for me to pack my belongings and get up from the bench. We took off, headed to the side entrance to the school, when suddenly, the intercom went off and our principal’s voice came through.

“This is the principal speaking. I ask everyone to pack their belongings and head straight to the main entrance. All students have fifteen minutes to leave the premises, a dead body was found in the men’s bathroom on the third floor. I instruct everyone to leave right now, and do not try and approach said bathroom or there will be repercussions!” Sana and I stopped dead in our tracks and looked at each other before hurrying inside the school, you could only leave through the main entrance. The halls were full of students rushing to get out, it was chaotic. Everyone was pushing everyone around and I found myself reaching for Sana’s hand, keeping her close to me as a bigger guy almost ran into her. She thanked me quietly and we continued making our way towards the main entrance. My heart was racing and suddenly I was feeling sick. Another victim. Another crime. Who was it this time? And just as that thought crossed my mind, I suddenly felt my legs turn weak. Wonwoo. Where was Wonwoo? Soonyoung? Where were they? Were they fine? I couldn’t do this again. I felt like I was walking through water again, the entrance was just there, but it felt so far away. I felt Sana tugging on my hand and I followed her, trying to control my rigged breathing.

“Hey, look at me.” She said once we were outside and she pulled me to the side of the steps, “Breathe, Y/N, you’re turning red.”

I nodded and tried to take a deep breath, but my muscles were tense and I felt tears gather in my eyes, “Where’s Wonwoo?”

An understanding look crossed Sana’s face and she started looking around, “I am sure he is alright; he’s probably looking for you right now, just as scared. You need to breathe, Y/N.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, feeling Sana’s grip tightening on my hand, and I tried to breathe. It was hard at the beginning, my lungs seemed to refuse to listen, but at last I was able to take little breaths here and there. Before I could react to the disappearance of Sana’s grip, I was engulfed into a bear hug, held tightly to someone’s chest. I gasped and opened my eyes, my arms going around Wonwoo’s neck.

“Oh my God, you’re okay.” I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek. Wonwoo’s breathing was shaky as well and he nodded, his hold crushing me.

“Yes, yes.” He whispered and kissed my head, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” I muttered and shook my head, pulling a bit back. Wonwoo’s eyebrows were furrowed and he was breathing hard, his hair fell into his eyes. I pushed it back and smiled at him, grateful that nothing happened to him. I really wouldn’t have been able to deal with losing him too in such a sort time after Yerim’s death. I leaned up and pressed a short kiss against his lips and I could feel Wonwoo’s muscles relaxing, his hold not tight anymore.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all break.” Wonwoo muttered, pushing my hair behind my ear.

“In the courtyard, I wasn’t hungry.” I answered and then looked down, “Sorry, I should’ve told you.”

Wonwoo shook his head and kissed my forehead swiftly, “No, it’s alright.”

I realized Sana was with me seconds ago and looked around, spotting her to our right, “Thank you.”

She smiled and nodded her head before she placed her backpack around her shoulders and started walking away. Wonwoo nodded at her and Sana greeted him back before disappearing in the crowd of people.

“You know her?” He asked quietly, almost sounding irritated.

“Not really, we talked for the first time today. But I knew who she was.” I explained and he nodded, looking off in the distance.

“You shouldn’t be friends with her.” Wonwoo sounded serious as his expression hardened and I stepped out of his hold, confused.

“Why?” But before he could answer me, Soonyoung came running up to us. His hair was disheveled and he was panting, a duffel bag in his hands. My eyebrows furrowed and I stepped back when he stopped next to me a little bit too close for my liking. I’ve been avoiding him since we met in Yerim’s room, scared of his sudden changes of mood. Soonyoung had a crazed look in his eyes and he was grinning from ear to ear as he looked at Wonwoo.

“Did you hear? The murderer killed someone again.” He sounded excited and my eyebrows furrowed when I saw Wonwoo’s lips twitching.

“Who was it this time?” Wonwoo asked, voice uncaring, but I didn’t miss the hint of smirk on his lips. I gulped, curious too, but a bit taken aback by the boys attitudes.

“Boo Seungkwan.” I gasped and took a step back again, eyes widening. I knew him. The two boys looked at me with raised eyebrows. I gulped and avoided their eyes, feeling uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?” I asked quietly, feeling a lump in my throat.

“One hundred percent, Y/N,” Soonyoung chuckled and he went and slung his arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders, “I was the one who found him.”

My head snapped up and I watched the two boys in front of me as they looked at each other and chuckled, and then my eyes fell on the duffle bag. It was zipped closed, but…it looked as if there was a darker spot on it. I squinted as I tried focusing on it, but Wonwoo’s voice caught my attention.

“Didn’t you know him, sugar?” He asked sweetly and I nodded, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, I did, he—” I cleared my throat and scratched my arm in discomfort, “He’s been bullying me since kindergarten.”

“He must’ve had a crush on you, right, Wonwoo?” Soonyoung asked with a laugh and I grimaced, weirded out by their behavior and feeling bad for talking like that about a dead person.

“Well, he’s been put out of his misery, so, I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.” Wonwoo’s voice was smug and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at my boyfriend, who seemed amused by the whole situation. What was happening? Why were they reacting like this? Wasn’t Soonyoung supposed to be shaken up after finding a dead body? I shuddered, and Wonwoo noticed because his demeanor changed instantly and he shook Soonyoung off him and took a step toward me.

“Y/N, I’m—”

“I have to go.” I cut him off and hurried away before he could grab me and convince me to stay with the two of them. I glanced back when I was a good distance away from them and saw Soonyoung making some slashing motions with his hand while laughing and Wonwoo smirking at him as he dug his hands inside his pockets. There was something very wrong with Soonyoung, and I was getting more and more scared of him.  

           Despite the sun being out throughout the day, by the evening some dark clouds started gathering on the sky, lightning flashing in the distance. I sighed as I drew my curtains to the side and opened the window, letting some fresh air in before the rain could start. I figured we’d have another stormy night, great, my mom had the night shift again, I hated being home alone during storms. I could hear Byeol running up and down the hallway as I sat on my bed and I chuckled, she had the zoomies again. I was holding Yerim’s phone in my hands and I figured I couldn’t do much damage if I looked through her gallery. Before leaving the Kim’s house I asked if it was alright if I borrowed her phone for a while, and they said it was okay as long as I returned it. So, pulling my hair to the side I unlocked her phone and went to her gallery. She was very organized, even when it came to pictures. There were different folders for different themes, all labeled accordingly. I clicked on the one with our nicknames for each other and giggled at the first photo. It was taken when Yerim and I went to the movies and I accidentally got stuck in the bathroom as the lock was faulty. You could see my hands from above the stall and I remembered how loudly I was screaming as I had left my phone with Yerim. It was hilarious, but I prefer not repeating the incident. Then the next one was with her neighbor’s dog; she took a selfie as we both were petting it. Then there were a bunch of hilarious and cute selfies from our latest sleepover, a few pictures of Byeol, and our favorite picture which we took while hiking one day. I sighed and looked out the window, just in time to see the lightning strike again. The thunder followed almost immediately, but it wasn’t as loud as I expected it to be. I looked back down at Yerim’s phone and excited her camera roll, about to place her phone to the side, when Byeol came zooming inside my room, scaring the living daylight out of me. I yelped and watched as she stopped underneath my window before she jumped up on the sill, looking at me innocently. I grimaced at her and looked back down at the phone, having accidentally opened the call log. My eyes ran over the familiar names of people, mine being the last one. I was the last person Yerim called before she died. A lump formed in my throat and I gulped, noticing the unknown number underneath mine. Who could that have been? Maybe a scammer or a guy she newly met, however I doubted that was the case, she always saved the numbers she was talking to. Biting my lower lip, I debated calling the unknown number, but after all, I had nothing to lose. And curiosity was eating my alive. So, I clicked on the number and dialed it, waiting patiently for the person on the other side to pick up. However, a ringing sound not too far away from my window suddenly caught my attention and I knew I wasn’t hallucinating as Byeol’s ears perked up at the sound too. But before I could think more of it, my call was picked up, but there was only silence on the other end. My eyebrows furrowed as I stood from my bed and walked towards Byeol, lightly petting her head as I looked out my window.

“Hello?” I asked quietly, getting a strange feeling of being watched, so I closed the window and locked it quickly.

“Hi there, beautiful.” I jumped at the distorted voice. It sounded like a robot speaking, the voice was low but almost glitchy. I looked out the window, wondering who was this and why had they called Yerim?

“Who are you?” I asked curiously, figuring it was just someone playing a prank on me.

“Wouldn’t it be boring if I told you that?” The voice almost took a playful tone and I chuckled.

“Perhaps, it would ruin your fun too soon, right?” I decided to play along and the person chuckled.

“Smart girl, indeed, it would ruin my fun too soon.” There was a pause before they continued, “And I’m not done having fun yet.”

I hummed and started petting Byeol’s head again as she was staring out the window, “Why did you call Yerim?”

“I was just about to ask; how do you have your dead friend’s phone?” I paused for a second, eyebrows furrowing. So this person seems to know us well. First, they probably called Yerim and were pranking her and now they are playing with me. It’s probably one of our classmates then, Mark likes goofing around.

“You must know us well if you have her number.” I decided to feel around and try and find out who this was.

“Oh,” The person chuckled and it sent a chill down my spine, “I happen to know you very well, Y/N.”

I licked my lips and looked down at Byeol as she pulled her head away, having had enough of my petting, “Really? How?”

The person chuckled again and I watched as Byeol jumped down from the window sill and walked out of my room, “I can’t tell you all of my secrets just yet, beautiful, it’s our first time talking.”

“I don’t think it is,” I chuckled, “Mark.”

There was a pause before the person sighed, “Who’s Mark, beautiful?”

I rolled my eyes, amused, “Ha-ha, very funny. My classmate, obvious. You really like playing pranks on people, don’t you? I thought last week’s detention was enough for a lifetime.”

“What if I’m not Mark?” The voice sounded very serious all of a sudden and I bit my lower lip, tracing a rain drop on my window as it started lightly raining.

“Then who could you possibly be?” There was another lightning and I turned around when Byeol started meowing loudly in my doorway. She was hungry, again, “I’m bored of this game—”

I turned to face the window again but instead of finishing my sentence, I cut myself off with a loud scream. A masked person was standing outside my window, and I started shaking as I froze for a second. It was…a Ghostface.

“Auch, beautiful, that was loud.” The Ghostface whined and I quickly drew the curtains closed, pulling down the blinds too, “What are you doing? Let me see you—”

“Who are you?!” I cut the person off, almost screaming as I ran out of my room, Byeol following agitatedly behind me. I checked the front door quickly, making sure it was locked before I went to check the door in the living room as well.

“Just a Ghostface, beautiful.” The person answered nonchalantly and my heart started beating fast as I hid behind the sofa, pulling Byeol into my chest. She made no sound as she gazed at me with her big green eyes.

“Stop calling me beautiful!” I snapped and tried to take deep breaths, debating on calling the police from my own phone. Who was this? What did they want? Were they…were they here to hurt me? What if…what if they were the killer? I felt dread flush over my whole being and I swallowed my tears and blinked my eyes continuously. I had to stay focused, if I was in danger, I had to save myself somehow.

“Did I scare you, beau—”

“Did you kill Kim Yerim?” I cut the Ghostface off, voice shaky as I waited for an answer. The person’s laughter made me shudder and Byeol wrestled herself out of my arms and meowed loudly at me for holding her so tightly. I felt sorry, but I was scared, and I was trying to hold her close to myself in case we needed to escape.

“Maybe I did.” There was a pause and I gasped, “Maybe I didn’t.”

I sprung up to my feet, acting out of pure terror, as I ran up to my room and grabbed my phone. I was too scared to look out of my window to see if the person was still there. There was a loud thunder and I screamed as the line went dead, leaving me shaking. Was the Ghostface gone? Shakily, I placed Yerim’s phone on my desk and slowly raised the blinds, scared of seeing the Ghostface outside of my window still. But nobody was there. I was scared, shaking, and on the verge of crying. Byeol was downstairs and the rain started falling harder. I couldn’t stay alone tonight; it would kill my nerves. So I quickly unlocked my phone and dialed my boyfriend’s number, pacing up and down in my room as I waited for him to pick up. Something rustled outside of my window and I froze when I faintly heard Wonwoo’s familiar ringtone, but the thunder swallowing the sound was louder and it made me feel stupid. Why would Wonwoo be right outside my window unannounced either way? What was he? A burglar? Wonwoo picked up on the third ring.

“Hi—”

“Can you sleepover tonight?” I cut him off, words hurried as I fixed my eyes on my window, starting to shake again.

“Are you alright?” Wonwoo sounded concerned and I heard rustling on the other end.

“No, are you coming over?”

“I’m on my way.” Wonwoo said before hanging up and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This was good. I wouldn’t be alone. Wonwoo would come by and sleep here. I took deep breaths as I paced around my room, Byeol sat in the doorway and watched me with a confused look on her face. I chuckled when I looked at her and tried not to think about the Ghostface and our conversation. It freaked me out. Who was behind the mask? And why would they want to prank anyone in this kind of way? It was distasteful and creepy, I was scared. Just as Byeol meowed she reminded that I forgot to feed her, the doorbell rang. I paused and looked at Byeol, my heart suddenly racing again. Who was that? Wonwoo lived twenty minutes away from me and it wasn’t even five minutes since I had called him, it couldn’t have been him. Was it…the person wearing that Ghostface mask? My heart started beating fast again and I glanced at Byeol as she started meowing loudly and took off towards the front door. The doorbell rang again and I hurried after my cat, calling out her name quietly.

“Stop!” I whisper-shouted, motioning at her to come to me, but she was ignoring me. Her meows were loud and I cursed quietly as I creeped towards the front door, convinced that it wasn’t Wonwoo, but that masked person. I should call the police. Suddenly there was loud knocking on the front door and I jumped as Byeol glanced at me.

“Y/N?!” Wonwoo’s deep voice made me sigh in relief as I quickly unlocked the front door and opened it for him. His hair was drenched and his jacket and jeans were wet too, it was pouring outside now. Byeol started meowing as Wonwoo stepped inside and he smiled at her, kneeling down to muzzle his face against her head. Byeol loved Wonwoo and they always played together a lot when Wonwoo came over. But…how did he get here so fast?

“Wonwoo—you’re drenched.” I muttered suspiciously as I helped him out of his jacket. He suddenly looked at me with a wide smile, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, I was on my way here when the rain started.” He said with a shrug and I hung his jacket on the hanger.

“But you got here really fast…” I trailed off and watched him take off his shoes before he gave Byeol a swift kiss.

“Oh, yeah, I was already on my way—”

“Why?” I asked accusingly, eyebrows furrowed, and arms crossed in front of my chest. There were too many weird things happening today, I was freaked out. I couldn’t decide if my thoughts were real or I was being delusional. Could I seriously not trust my own boyfriend anymore? But he gave me no reasons…

Wonwoo looked taken aback by my tone and words, “Uhm…I just wanted to surprise you? You told me your mom was working the nightshift and I know you hate storms…”

He was right, I was overreacting, “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry—it’s just, lately I’m so jumpy.”

Wonwoo smiled and approached me, cupping my cheeks, “I noticed, but it’s fine. Things will get better eventually.”

I nodded and kissed his lips, their warmth bringing a sense of tranquility as I stepped closer to him. Wonwoo’s grip got firmer and our lips started moving against each other as I circled my arms around his neck, his wet hair tingling my wrists. One of his hand’s gripped my waist, and I hummed when his familiar scent hit my nose. It felt nice kissing him, I’ve been keeping my distance from Wonwoo, feeling uncomfortable lately with any physical contact besides a brief hug. And this felt nice now. His familiar lips, and firm grip, musky scent, I realized I had missed them. Byeol’s loud meowing broke us apart and I chuckled as I pressed another kiss against Wonwoo’s lips.

“Poor cat, she’s hungry…can you feed her while I bring you a towel?” I asked and Wonwoo nodded with a smile, releasing me from his hold as I turned and headed to the bathroom. Byeol followed Wonwoo as they headed into the kitchen and I could hear him pouring the cat food into her little bowl. I got a clean towel and then walked to the kitchen, handing it to Wonwoo.

“Do you want tea or hot chocolate?” I asked with a grin as I grabbed two mugs. Wonwoo pursed his lips and pulled out his glasses from the pocket of his hoodie.

“It’s a hot chocolate kind of night.”

“Right?!” I asked with a chuckle and he nodded at me amused.

“Do you still have my spare clothes?’ Wonwoo asked and I chuckled as I glanced back at him.

“What do you think?” He smirked at me and pushed up his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, “They are in the laundry room.”

Wonwoo thanked me and then walked away, leaving me with Byeol in the kitchen. While she quietly ate her food I prepared the hot chocolate for Wonwoo and I. He took his time to change out of his wet clothes and dried his hair with the towel as best as he could. When he joined us in the kitchen again, the hot chocolate were already ready and Byeol was somewhere off in the house, probably sleeping as she had just eaten. I handed Wonwoo a mug as he approached me and he thanked me with his signature gummy smile. I had always loved his smile, it made him look so cute. It was a nice contrast compared to his usual poker face. Wonwoo wasn’t very expressive usually, but when it was just the two of us, he could be very cute. He interlaced our fingers as we drank our hot chocolate and I giggled, raising my eyebrows at him.

“I missed you.” He whispered, looking down at his mug. I bit my lower lip and felt bad for pushing him away for so long, but I needed the space. I still do, but it’s not as bad as after the funeral.

“I’m sorry, I just felt uncomfortable around people after…” I trailed off and sighed, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. Wonwoo squeezed my hand.

“I understand you, and I’m not pressuring you in any way. It must hurt like hell losing your best friend.” I gulped a bit harder and glanced at Wonwoo briefly, noticing the change in his behavior. There it was again, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. It was confusing.

“Yeah, it hurts a lot. I hope the criminal is caught soon so that I can face them—”

“And what would you do?” Wonwoo sounded curious as he turned his body to face mine. I raised an eyebrow at him as I shrugged.

“That they are a piece of shit and I hope they rot away in prison until they get to root in hell.” Despite me being dead serious, Wonwoo started laughing and I pulled my hand out of his, slightly irritated.

“You’re hot when you get fired up, sugar.” Normally his compliments would leave me feeling giddy, but we were talking about the murderer of my best friend right now, there was nothing hot about it.

I shot Wonwoo a glare before walking to the sink to wash my mug, “I thought we were having a serious conversation, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo sighed and approached me, still sipping his hot chocolate, “Come on, I was just joking—”

“Well it’s not funny!” I snapped, looking at him, “Yerim was murdered and you’re telling me I’m hot when I talk about her murderer?!”

“No, that’s not hot, I was just saying you are—nevermind, I’m not in the mood to fight. You’ve been ignoring me for three weeks and when we finally get to spend some time together you’re just getting angry at me.” Wonwoo sounded accusing as he placed the mug forcefully in the sink and I rolled my eyes.

“What did you expect me to do? Jump in your arms the day after my friend’s funeral—”

“You didn’t have to push me away!” His voice raised and I turned to wash his mug too, hating it when he started getting loud while arguing, “I get that you don’t let me touch you, but you wouldn’t even speak to me, Y/N! If I knew you’d be like this I wouldn’t have let Soonyoung—”

I paused, turning to look at Wonwoo. He seemed speechless as he stared at me wide eyed, shaking his head. I turned off the water and faced him.

“What the hell are you even saying?” I asked confused, trying to comprehend his words but I didn’t understand what he was talking about. What had Soonyoung to do with our argument right now? What did he do?

“Nothing, I’m just—” Wonwoo shrugged and took a deep breath, composing himself, “I just missed you, that’s it. I hate arguing with you, you know that.”

“Yeah, well,” I scoffed and dried my hands in a towel, “I wouldn’t be arguing with you if you tried to understand my feelings—”

“I do understand.” He cut me off and my jaw clenched as I gave him a glare.

“I don’t feel it, but whatever, do you want to watch a movie or what?” Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to watch anything, I just wanted to go to sleep, but I knew Wonwoo would bother me until I wasn’t grumpy.

“Do you want to watch one?” Wonwoo asked with a sigh, knowing that our previous conversation was over.

“No.” I muttered and he looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” I nodded wordlessly and he pulled me into a hug, making me roll my eyes. I didn’t want to be hugged right now, but I didn’t push him away, just didn’t reciprocate the hug, “It’s still early to go to sleep.”

It wasn’t that early, but he was right, I would wake up during the night, probably, “Whatever, I want to go to bed.”

He groaned and suddenly I felt his hands gripping my thighs as I was hauled up, I yelped and grabbed onto him, “What are you doing?!”

Wonwoo said nothing as he took off and headed up the stairs, towards my room. He pushed the door open with his foot and walked towards my bed, before I could ask him to let me down, he fell forward, crushing me against the bed with his weight. I groaned as my bed’s mattress wasn’t soft.

“Wonwoo…” I muttered with a glare, grabbing his shoulders to push him off. He whined and didn’t move as he nuzzled his head in my neck, “You’re too heavy.”

“And you’re too grumpy.” He muttered and I slapped his shoulder, making him chuckle. I wanted him off, but he wasn’t budging. Before I could interject, he started pressing kisses against my neck, knowing well I was ticklish there, but I tried to keep my laughter in as I tried wrestling out from underneath him. Wonwoo was having the time of his life as he started laughing and tickling my sides too, making me cry out in despair as I hated being tickled.

“Stop! Wonwoo!” I tried to push his hands away, but it was futile. Wonwoo was giggling and quickly kissed my lips before he finally stopped tickling me, smiling at me mischievously. I glared at him and as I went to smack his arm, Byeol decided to join us as she jumped up on Wonwoo’s back. I started laughing as Wonwoo hissed, Byeol’s nails dug into his back, he deserved it after torturing me here.

“Hey, Byeol!” Wonwoo started shaking his back, trying to get my cat off of him, but it wasn’t working, so I started poking her, trying to get her off his back. And it worked, because Byeol jumped off and Wonwoo finally got off of me as well to start playing with my cat. He got on the floor and started pushing her lightly around, making Byeol land on her side as she started turning around, attacking Wonwoo’s fingers and jumping on his hand. I chuckled and left the two to play as I went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas and brush my teeth. I was too tired to shower, so I tried to be quick and when I walked back inside my room, Wonwoo and Byeol were still playing. I poked Byeol to rile her up more and she lunged for Wonwoo’s hand, making him hiss as I plugged in my phone. I looked at him and Wonwoo was glaring at Byeol.

“Did she scratch you?” I asked as Wonwoo got up and sat on my bed.

“Yeah.” He nodded and showed me his hand, two long, red, scratches decorating his hand. I pouted at him mockingly and kissed the scratches before laying down in my bed and pulling the blanket over my body.

“Don’t worry, soldier, those scratches won’t kill you for now.” I said mockingly and Wonwoo rolled his eyes, pulling the blanket over my head, but I managed to punch his bicep, making him groan. I giggled and pulled the blanket off, sticking my tongue out at him, “Are you coming to bed?”

“Nah,” Wonwoo stood and walked to my computer, “I want to play COD before I go to sleep.”

“Fine,” I muttered and closed my eyes, “but don’t stay up until late and check if we locked the front door before you come to bed.”

“Okay, mom.” Wonwoo muttered and I rolled my eyes, “Good night.”

“I love you.” I whispered and sighed, getting comfortable as Wonwoo turned off all the lights in my room and only left on the one at my desk. I heard Byeol moving around, no doubt she went to sleep in Wonwoo’s lap as he started playing Call of Duty.

           After Wonwoo left I had a whole three days to think about everything that’s been happening lately and they way Soonyoung and him were acting from time to time. It was getting quite obvious that there was something wrong with Soonyoung and it seems like only Yerim had noticed until now. The boy gets upset at the smallest of things and he’s always saying some fucked up shit about the people he doesn’t like, and it almost always involves a comment about how the Earth would be better off without them and that he could slay them in their sleep. I never paid attention to these comments because I thought he was just joking as he has always had a dark sense of humor. But it didn’t make sense why he was at the pool on the day Yerim died. I was the last person she called and somehow Soonyoung knew about her death. Was he perhaps nearby? But why would he be? Yerim refused to go on a date that evening, so there was no reason for Soonyoung to show up there. He was tough to deal with, but if he was told no, he wouldn’t bother you for a while. And his words kept bothering me still, ‘I just couldn’t help it’, what did he mean by them? What has he done? Wonwoo’s slip up about how he wouldn’t have let Soonyoung do whatever also didn’t sit right with me. I wished there was someone I could talk to about these crazy thoughts, but I knew how it would sound. Was I accusing Soonyoung of killing Yerim? Not exactly, but it started sounding like that. Was I suspecting my boyfriend’s best friend about being a murderer? I tried not to, but it was becoming difficult. So I decided to try and talk to him, sort things out with Soonyoung without accusing him of anything, just ask him all of the questions I desperately needed an answer to and everything would be alright. But Soonyoung started avoiding me, he wouldn’t talk to me if it was unnecessary and he’d only sit with me if Wonwoo was with us, and even then, he remained quiet. It was weird, Soonyoung talked a lot. I brought it up to Wonwoo and he said not to think too much about it as it was Soonyoung and his talkativeness depended a lot on his mood. I tried to explain to Wonwoo that I didn’t care about that, that it was his attitude which changed and that I wasn’t able to talk to him because he was avoiding me or ignoring me, but Wonwoo just shrugged it off and said that he didn’t notice anything weird with him. I knew it was futile to press the matter more, so I let it go and focused on other things. Sana and I started hanging out in the long breaks and it felt nice to have a girl to talk to again. However, one day, she freaked me out a bit.

“Did you notice how every murdered person has something to do with you so far?” She had asked as she took a bite of her sandwich. I had choked on my smoothie upon hearing her words.

“No? What are you talking about?” I had asked confused, goosebumps erupting on my skin.

“Well,” She had started saying as she gazed up at the sky, “Yerim was your best friend, you’ve known Seungkwan since you were little and well…you sort of knew Mina too, she was Wonwoo’s ex.”

Yes, I had known all these people, but I couldn’t follow Sana’s train of thought, “Yeah, but…it’s not like I’m the only one who knew them…”

“True,” Sana had hummed and then had looked at me, “Whatever, ignore what I said. I’ve just been thinking about it.”

So, we moved on with our conversation after that, however, her words made me think hard about what she had said. Somehow, she wasn’t wrong. I had known all three people, even if not from very close, they did have a significance in my life at some point, it made me shudder again. I thought about bringing it up to Wonwoo when we were hanging out after class, but I was scared he’d think I was going crazy. I was just desperate to find out who murdered and why my best friend, and all these other people. And what if I was the serial killer’s next target? Nobody was safe.

           Time flies by so fast you don’t even notice it. It feels like Yerim’s funeral was yesterday yet it’s Halloween already. Almost two months have had passed since losing her, and I was still getting used to it. I couldn’t say it was easier, but I was doing slightly better. Today was a particularly hard day as Halloween was Yerim and I’s favorite holiday. We’d always dress up in our favorite character at the moment and throw a small house party for our close friends. The rules were that we’d go trick or treating to each other and before midnight we’d gather at a bonfire and tell scary stories which have happened to us. It was a lot of fun each year and we couldn’t wait for it; however, it was my first Halloween without Yerim and it didn’t feel right. I was feeling nauseous all day long and quite moody as the weather had gotten colder too. Sana noticed my grumpiness and once I told her what the issue was she left me alone. Wonwoo wasn’t so understanding as we had talked about going to a Haunted House for fun months ago. He said he understood yet he was pressuring me in going with them. He promised it would be fun and that I shouldn’t stay at home and sulk all night long. I wasn’t sulking, I was trying to cope with the absence of my best friend, but it seemed like he didn’t understand that. So, very reluctantly, I agreed to go with him to the Haunted House. A few of his friends would be joining us, so I figured asking Sana if she’d like to come wouldn’t hurt anyone. She seemed quite excited once I told her and she promised to pick me up at around nine as Wonwoo wanted to go out beforehand with his friends. That was fine with me, I wasn’t in the mood to hang out with drunk teenage guys either way. They would get loud and pushy; I knew someone would bring up Yerim and it was the last thing I needed tonight. Mom was happy to see me going out and even encouraged me when I asked her to braid my hair. I wasn’t in the mood to go shopping for a costume, so I dressed in last year’s witch outfit. Nobody would care either way. Only Yerim actually cared, and she wasn’t here. Last year I was the one hosting the small party and I figured since I had a black cat I should dress up as a witch, it was a total success. Everyone loved the look and the vibes.

As nine o’clock approached, Sana texted me that she was right outside my house and after mom kissed my cheek and told me to have fun I left the house and jogged up to Sana’s extravagant car. They were quite rich and despite her being humble, her things screamed rich girl vibes.

“Hi!” She greeted me excited and I waved at her as I sat inside the car, “How are you?”

I sighed and closed the door, “Well, I had better days.”

“You look amazing though,” She patted my thigh and I nodded wordlessly, “If at any point you feel uncomfortable and want to come home, don’t feel hesitant to tell me. I’ll drive you.”

I felt my heart warming at her comment and gave her a genuine thankful smile, “Thank you.”

Sana wasn’t Yerim, and she’d never be, but it felt nice to have someone who was so understanding and kind. She’s shown me nothing but kindness since we started talking and it was refreshing. Sana was soft spoken and quiet usually, she didn’t speak unasked and often times we’d just sit in silence next to each other, enjoying each other’s presence. She was the total opposite of Yerim, yet we seemed to get along well. Sana made me feel seen and understood when nobody else could, perhaps that’s why I felt a little attached to her. I could only hope that she felt the same about me and didn’t think I was cold to her.

Once we got to the Haunted House the place was buzzing with people, everyone was excited for the new addition of the Amusement Park. It was a Halloween special and it was the first year they had opened a Haunted House for Halloween. Yerim would’ve loved coming here, we’ve discussed our outfits for tonight quite often and how much fun we’d have at the Haunted House, but now I had to do all of that alone. I owed it to her at least. Finding Wonwoo wasn’t hard as he and his friends had come with their bikes and they were gathered at the entrance of the Park, being loud and annoying. Sana followed after me as I was headed their way. I spotted Wonwoo next to his motorbike and walked towards him, catching his attention when I got nearby. He grinned at me and opened his arms once I was next to him, pulling me in a big hug.

“Hello, beautiful.” I smiled and pulled back, kissing his cheek. His friends got quiet and I faced them, waving at everyone. They greeted me back and I glanced at Sana before clearing my throat.

“This is Sana,” I introduced her to everyone, and starting from our left started introducing the boys, “That’s Minghao, Vernon, Soonyoung and Jeonghan.”

“Nice to meet you!” Sana smiled and the boys quickly greeted her, Minghao shaking her hand and introducing himself individually too. I chuckled and looked at Wonwoo who was smirking. Minghao wasn’t very interested in girls, but when he was, he made it quite obvious and Sana was a gorgeous girl. Jeonghan was smirking to our right as he watched me and I noticed, so I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Looking quite ravishing, Y/N.” Jeonghan said in a flirty tone and I felt Wonwoo’s arm tightening around my shoulders. Jeonghan was quite flirty, even with me. I used to think he was annoying, but after getting to know him better, I realized he flirted even with his guy friends, I figured it’s just the way he was. Besides, he was no threat when it came to Wonwoo, I was too in love with my boyfriend to find any other guy interesting enough. Sometimes I wished Wonwoo understood that too and stopped being jealous, but I figured he was just the possessive type.

“Thank you, interesting choice of outfit, Jeonghan.” I commented, making Soonyoung laugh as he pushed off his bike. I glanced at him but he was avoiding eye contact, still.

“Who dresses up as a cat, Jeonghan?” Soonyoung teased but Jeonghan just shrugged and pushed his long hair behind his shoulders.

“I do, why? Are you falling in love with me?” Jeonghan started leaning towards Soonyoung who flicked him off and grabbed his backpack off his bike.

“Yeah, right.” He muttered sarcastically and Minghao smiled, speaking up.

“Are we going in then?”

“Yes, let’s go!” Vernon said with excitement lacing his voice and I nodded, sighing quietly. Wonwoo noticed and looked down at me.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly as we took off towards the ticket booth. I nodded and pressed a kiss against his lips, bringing a smile on his face. He bopped our noses together before we joined the others in line, waiting to buy our tickets too.

           The night seemed to be going well, everyone was having fun. Sana and Vernon seemed to be hitting it off quite well, much to Minghao’s disappointment. Jeonghan kept giggling as Minghao continued sulking while we watched Sana and Vernon play a shooting game in order to win a pink teddy bear. Sana really wanted it, but after missing almost all targets she walked away sulkily and that’s all it took Vernon to try his luck, and he seemed to be doing really well.

“Does our little Vernon have a new crush?” It was the first time in a while Soonyoung addressed me directly and I looked at him surprised. Was he done ignoring me and avoiding me?

“Who knows, but I don’t blame him.” I said with a shrug and Soonyoung looked at me.

“Good for him, she never liked me.” Soonyoung sounded a little bitter and it made me remember that Wonwoo and Mina once were together, of course Soonyoung and Sana knew each other. But I didn’t know he was into her…much like he was into Yerim as well. Interesting pattern, I thought to myself as my eyebrows lightly furrowed. Soonyoung seemed to notice and he cleared his throat, looking off in the distance.

“Do you want some cotton candy?” He asked as he took out his wallet.

“No, thank you, Wonwoo is buying some caramel popcorn for us.” I declined nicely and Soonyoung nodded.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before walking off to the cotton candy booth, buying one for himself. I continued watching Vernon and Sana as they both laughed, trying their luck for another plushie, this time it was a blue shark. Wonwoo was buying popcorn not far away and Jeonghan and Minghao decided to ride a very scary looking roller-coaster. They didn’t want to come to the Haunted House with us so we agreed to meet in an hour at the Ferris-wheel as we had to wait a little for our tour at the Haunted House. They only let in around ten people at every half an hour. Chuckling at Vernon’s dramatic fail at hitting the last target, I noticed someone in my peripheral vision. The person seemed to be approaching me and as I turned my head a wide smile erupted on my lips. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I hadn’t seen him in ages. It was Seonghwa, my ex-boyfriend. He was my first serious boyfriend and I only had fond memories of him. We parted on friendly terms and have been civil with each other ever since. He moved away two years ago, so it was a surprise to see him here.

“Seonghwa!” I exclaimed as I ran up to him and engulfed him in a hug. He giggled and hugged me back just as tightly. He had gotten taller since the last time we saw each other. He still had that bubble gum scent, it made me giddy.

“Y/N, I would’ve never thought we’d meet here of all places!” He said with a laugh as we let go of each other and took a small step back.

“Right?!” I chuckled as we smiled widely at each other, “I didn’t even know you were back in town!”

“Yeah, it’s a brief visit, so I didn’t tell anyone.” He scratched his nape awkwardly, “I wasn’t even supposed to be here, but San and Wooyoung dragged me here because of the Haunted House.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s a hot topic at the moment. I wasn’t in the mood to come, but I promised Wonwoo we’d go so…” I trailed off with a sigh and Seonghwa nodded.

“How is he?” He asked with a polite smile and I shrugged, looking around for him.

“He’s fine, just the usual.” I answered and Seonghwa nodded.

“I, uh—” He cleared his throat, “I heard what happened to Yerim. I’m very sorry for your loss. She didn’t deserve that.”

I looked away and gulped, hating that she was the topic, but I knew Seonghwa didn’t mean bad, “Thank you, she really didn’t. She was taken from us so early…”

Seonghwa gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I’m always here for you, I hope you know that.”

“I do.” His words brought a smile to my face, even after breaking up, Seonghwa was always there to support me and cheer me up until he had to move away. He was a kind soul always looking out for others, “How’s your grandma?”

“She’s the reason I’m visiting, actually, she’s not doing so well.” Seonghwa’s voice lowered and he looked down, it was my turn to offer him a reassuring pat.

“I’m sad to hear that, I hope she gets better.” Seonghwa nodded and I could hear them before seeing them. Wooyoung was almost screaming as he was telling San to let him go to the teddy bear booth. He wanted to get the blue shark Vernon lost, but San wasn’t letting him as he had spent too much money already. Seonghwa and I looked at each other before we burst out laughing.

He shook his head and sighed tiredly, “I better go and do some damage control before we get kicked out.”

I laughed and nodded, ushering him away, “When are you going to the Haunted House?”

Seonghwa glanced at his wrist watch, “In about ten minutes.”

“Oh, that’s great! Us too!” Seonghwa had an excited smile on his face as he waved at me and quickly ran up to San and Wooyoung, who were full on arguing by now. I chuckled and shook my head, but quickly jumped when someone gripped my arm.

“Who was that?” Wonwoo’s deep voice whispered in my ear and I turned to face him with a grin.

“Seonghwa!” I answered him and Wonwoo hummed as he released me and looked after Seonghwa who was now standing in between San and Wooyoung, talking and making exaggerated hand gestures. I had to laugh as I watched them. Wonwoo had known about Seonghwa, but he’s never seen him in person. Wonwoo and I started dating a few days after Seonghwa moved away.

“And those two idiots are his best friends, San and Wooyoung.” I explained to Wonwoo as he started eating our popcorn, “They are very loud, argue almost all the time and like to cause trouble. Poor Seonghwa…sometimes I pity him for having left him alone with those two devils.”

Wonwoo gave me a quick glance before he interlaced our fingers and pulled me away, walking us towards the Haunted House, “Well you’re not their mother, so I’m glad I stole you away.”

I rolled my eyes and gave Wonwoo a look, “You didn’t steal me away, dumbass, Seonghwa and I had broken up a year before I started dating you. The only thing you stole is my heart.”

My last comment brought a smug grin on Wonwoo’s lips and he kissed me before acting like nothing happened, “I love you.”

I laughed and leaned closer to him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

Wonwoo looked at me from the corner of his eyes, “You did.”

“No, I didn’t.” I shook my head and pouted at him.

“Yes, you did.”

“How could I, everyone is so loud and you were speaking so quietly.”

“I love you.” Wonwoo said with a groan, louder this time, and I giggled as I punched his stomach playfully and grabbed some popcorn into my hands. He rolled his eyes and rested his arm around my shoulders as we spotted the others in front of the Haunted House staying in line and joined them.

            The Haunted House was a twenty-minute walk and it was quite well done. I got a good scare right as we started the tour, a killer doctor jumped in front of Wonwoo and I, and I screamed the loudest, scaring Sana and Vernon who were behind us. Wooyoung and San, who were at the front with Seonghwa, started laughing at me and I stuck my tongue out at Wooyoung. However, he got his payback when a black fake spider was dropped on his head and he almost passed out from screaming so loud, making the whole group erupt in loud laughter. Vernon seemed to like their vibes as he dragged Sana to the front to be with them and I chuckled as I looked at Wonwoo.

“San and Wooyoung can be fun people, but they tire you out very quickly.” I told my boyfriend as we walked through a very dark zone, ghostly voices coming from the speakers. I was holding his hand tightly and I could feel his shoulder grazing mine lightly.

“Did you spend a lot of time with them?” He asked curiously.

“I did,” I chuckled, remembering all the fun I used to have with them and Seonghwa, “On Friday’s we’d go to the diner and after we’d go karting, it was a lot of fun. It was a tradition of ours which was started by Wooyoung.”

“Sounds nice,” Wonwoo muttered and then I felt him squeezing my hand when we heard footsteps running behind us, “Why don’t we have something similar?”

His question made me think. I didn’t exactly know, maybe because Wonwoo didn’t invite me to hang out with his friends quite often, so I wasn’t very close to them besides Soonyoung, “I don’t know, I figured you don’t like it when I hang out with you and your friends.”

“That’s not true,” Wonwoo scoffed as a marionette was hung in front of us, dangling limply and I flinched, “I don’t mind you hanging out with us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him as we were partially blinded by green neon lights, “You never told me that though. And you never invited me out with you guys either…”

Wonwoo was silent as he glanced at me and stepped in front of me when a man dressed in Frankenstein ran towards us. I could hear Sana giggling in the next room and I pulled Wonwoo after me, entering the room just in time to see Wooyoung threateningly throwing punches at a skeleton and cussing at it. San was laughing loudly and Seonghwa was apologizing to the masked man as he clutched his shoulder. Sana and Vernon were watching it unfold with amusement, and I chuckled as Wonwoo and I approached them.

“What did he do this time?” I asked Seonghwa while pointing at Wooyoung, but it was San who answered me.

“The vampire jumped out of its coffin and Wooyoung punched it.” It made me laugh too as Seonghwa dragged his friend away from the skeleton before bowing at the vampire guy again. The guy just told us to go on and went back inside his coffin.

“Ah, Y/N, finally!” Wooyoung exclaimed once he saw me talking to San and ran up to me, throwing his arm around my shoulders as he pulled me with himself to the front. I glanced back at Wonwoo, but he just smiled and nodded, joining Vernon and Sana at the back of the group. Soonyoung and the other three people who came with us seemed to be much more ahead of us, so our little group stuck together.

“I hear you’ve been causing problems all night long, Wooyoung.” I narrowed my eyes at my friend and he chuckled, placing a hand on his chest.

“Non-sense, was it Seonghwa who told you that? You know he’s always lying and overreacting!” I chuckled as Seonghwa slapped the back of Wooyoung’s head and San glanced back at us with a grin before he opened the next door. The room was pitch black and I gulped, a bit nervous about entering it. I knew Wooyoung wouldn’t release me, he knew I hated the dark, but I still preferred being with Wonwoo right now.

“It’s good that our gang is back together.” It was San who was talking and I lightly ran into him as he stopped to wait for us. He seemed unbothered by the whole tour and was just laughing at everything and making fun of Wooyoung any chance he got.

“Yeah, I missed you.” Wooyoung said and squeezed my shoulder as I lightly held onto his hoodie, scared a bit. I knew Seonghwa was next to me, on my left, and San in front of me and the others behind, but I still felt uneasy.

“I missed you too, although you’re being a pain in the ass—”

“Am not!” Wooyoung exclaimed and soon screamed as a strong light was flashed in our faces and fake bats came flying towards us. I screamed too and ducked as I held onto my head, scared they’d get entangled into my braided hair. San was laughing as he caught one and started antagonizing Wooyoung with it, running after him as they ran into the next room. Seonghwa was quick to approach me and help me stand, but Wonwoo was by my side instantly, and the two looked at each other as each held my arm. I chuckled awkwardly and shook off their grips, standing up on my own.

“Sorry, I hate bats.” I muttered embarrassed as Vernon and Sana walked by us.

“I know.” Both boys said at the same time and I felt awkward as they looked at each other before Wonwoo cleared his throat and Seonghwa scratched his nape.

“Uhm, let’s go?” I proposed and they both nodded as we took off, Seonghwa going in front of us as I intertwined my fingers with Wonwoo, who was glaring at the back of my ex-boyfriend’s head.

“Stop it.” I whispered at Wonwoo and his jaw clenched, “Wonwoo, you know he means no harm.”

“I don’t like it when other guys touch you, Y/N.” Wonwoo snapped at me and I sighed, side eyeing him.

“Jesus, he just tried to help me up—”

“I was there already; he didn’t have to.” Wonwoo’s voice raised lightly and I stopped walking and faced him as I was sure Seonghwa could hear it all and I didn’t want to make him feel more uncomfortable.

“Can you stop acting like this? Have I given you any reason to be jealous, Wonwoo?” I called out my boyfriend and he rolled his eyes, releasing my hand.

“You have no trouble being so friendly with him.”

“Maybe because we remained friends?!” I exclaimed and Wonwoo just sighed, walking by me, “Seriously?”

“What? I’m curious what’s in the next room.” He muttered and I rolled my eyes as I followed after him. What a way to ruin the little fun I started having. I just sighed as I followed behind Wonwoo, not even interested anymore in the Haunted House and all of the different masked people jumping out in front of me, trying to scare me. Seonghwa was back at the front, San and Wooyoung pulling him in all kinds of directions as he didn’t turn around anymore, keeping his distance. I felt bad for him and reminded myself to apologize for Wonwoo’s behavior, reassuring him that he did nothing wrong and Wonwoo sometimes overreacted. There were flashing lights in the room we were in currently and ghosts hung from the ceiling as people were screaming through the speakers. I sighed and shielded my eyes, the lights hurting them as I hurried towards the last door. The others were outside already and I was left behind, I didn’t notice that everyone walked out while I was getting lost in my thoughts. Just as I was about to touch the doorknob, a dressed up person jumped in front of me, blocking my way. I gasped and jumped back, eyes widening when I came face to face with a Ghostface. The person wore a black gown and a real looking knife was in its hand. My heart started racing and I started backing away from the person, getting flashbacks from the night they had shown up at my house.

“What—what are you—” The Ghostface chuckled and slowly approached me.

“I’m a Ghostface.” The voice was still as glitchy, but lower than the one I had talked to on the phone, “Hello, beautiful.”

I shuddered at the words and gulped, “Who are you?”

The person behind the mask chuckled and twirled around, “An actor? Hired by the Haunted House?”

My heart was racing, but their words seemed to calm me down a little bit. Of course, we were at the Haunted House and this person was an actor hired to scare people. And they did a good job at scaring me.

“Right, sorry—” I chuckled, “You gave me a good scare.”

“That’s my job.” The Ghostface bowed and I smiled, “Did you enjoy the tour?”

“Are you this nice and talkative with everyone?” I raised my eyebrows as I held my hands behind my back. The Ghostface started circling me, making me turn my head to see them.

“Only with the beautiful ones.” They answered and I rolled my eyes, not into cheesy flirting.

“How cheesy.” I muttered and the Ghostface seemed to laugh as they came to a stop in front of me. It looked as they looked down before raising their head back up and I saw the knife glinting in the dim light as it lightly touched my chin and they raised my head with it. The air caught in my throat a little as I felt the sturdiness of the knife. It was either a very real looking and feeling prop or it was a real knife.

“And tell me…do you like bad guys?” The Ghostface asked smugly and I laughed nervously.

“Not really.”

“Isn’t your boyfriend a bad boy?” Well, that’s not how I’d describe Wonwoo if someone asked me. He looked like a bad boy, but he was actually a very nice and loving guy.

“Not really,” I chuckled and quietly let out a sigh when the person lowered the knife from my chin, “He’s well raised and really nice.”

“And do you love him?” Wasn’t this Ghostface a little too curious?

“Of course I do.” I said matter of factly and the Ghostface hummed just as the door opened. Light poured in from the outside and I squinted until the door was closed again. I instantly recognized the person once my eyes adjusted to the light again, it was Seonghwa.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked worriedly as he walked up to me, “I saw you weren’t with the group and nobody knew where you were.”

I smiled at him sweetly and nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just fell behind accidentally and Ghostface over there seemed to be quite interested.”

Seonghwa looked over to where the Ghostface stood and his eyebrows furrowed, “Oh? They didn’t show up when we walked through this room.”

I turned to look at the Ghostface as well and I gulped as dread washed over me, slowly realizing what was happening, “Seonghwa—” But before I could scream at him to run, the Ghostface charged at us and I yelped as they pushed me to the ground and pinned Seonghwa to the wall. I watched wide eyed as Seonghwa struggled against them and as I got to my feet, I saw the Ghostface raise their knife. My heart stopped for a second and I didn’t even realize I had screamed as the knife slashed Seonghwa’s abdomen. He cried out in pain and the Ghostface stepped back a bit as he angled their knife at Seonghwa’s stomach. I was shaking, but I couldn’t just sit on the ground and watch as they murder my ex-boyfriend.

“Y/N, run!” Seonghwa exclaimed as the Ghostface poked his stomach, but I was fast enough and got up in time and ran over, knocking the Ghostface aside. They gasped in surprise and I could feel their gaze burning into me through the mask. I turned to face Seonghwa and with shaky hands caught him as he slid down the wall.

“No, Seonghwa!” I exclaimed, hand getting bloody as I pressed it against his smaller wound, momentarily not knowing what to do.

“Get out!” Seonghwa whispered as he grimaced in pain, pulling out his phone. I turned around and came face to face with the Ghostface, gasping at the proximity. I didn’t know who was behind the mask, but I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. I punched their shoulder and took the knife out of their hand, throwing it on the ground as I started punching their abdomen. The Ghostface groaned and tried catching my hands, struggling to do so until they had me pinned against the wall. I tried fighting myself out of their hold, but they were stronger.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” The Ghostface said breathlessly and I glared at them, kneeling them, making them double over.

“You shouldn’t have hurt my friends!” I screamed and kneeled them in the stomach this time, sending the person onto the ground. I ran back to Seonghwa and saw him trying to call the cops, but there was no signal inside.

“Let’s go.” I whispered and tried to control my shaking as I attempted to help Seonghwa stand, but just as he warned me, I was tackled to the ground. I screamed again, and suddenly, a hand was muffling my screams. A bare hand. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. My heart was beating like crazy and I felt a tear run down my cheeks when I noticed the Ghostface holding the knife again. Was I about to die too? But they didn’t move, we were just staring at each other. The hold on my mouth seemed to loosen and I glanced down at it, heart jumping in my throat when I noticed two long, red scratches on the person’s hand. Why did they look like cat scratches? Why did their hand feel like Wonwoo’s? A groan to our right got both of our attention and I saw Seonghwa approaching us, almost stumbling, but as the Ghostface got off of me, Seonghwa swung his fist at the person’s jaw, sending them stumbling into the wall. I got up and grabbed Seonghwa, placing his arm around my shoulders as I held his hip and we made a run for the exit. He was groaning in pain but still remained strong as we could hear the Ghostface shuffling around and catching up with us, but just as I felt them gripping onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, I kicked the door open, light flooding the room. Everyone was standing there, waiting for us probably, and when they saw the blood coating Seonghwa’s torso and my hands, chaos erupted. Wooyoung ran up to us in despair and started shouting things, asking what happened as I yelled out for them to call an ambulance. Vernon rushed up to us and helped Wooyoung as they took Seonghwa’s weight off of me and carefully placed him on a nearby bench as San called for an ambulance. Sana was by my side instantly and I realized my whole body was shaking as I looked around for familiar faces. She was talking to me, but I was searching for one person. Jeonghan and Minghao looked shocked as they stood helplessly by the bench, watching Seonghwa struggling to stay awake. Wooyoung was freaking out and San was holding onto him tightly as they talked to Seonghwa, trying to divert his attention from the pain. Vernon was trying to stop the bleeding as his father is a doctor and he knows this and that. Soonyoung was off to the side, looking almost sick yet unimpressed as he talked on the phone with someone. And Sana was hugging me tightly, saying reassuring things to me which I was unable to hear due to my ears ringing. Wonwoo. Wonwoo wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I gulped and hugged Sana back, hearing the ambulance sirens in the distance. Wonwoo wasn’t here with us.

           My mother was reluctant to let me go to school the next day, understandably so. I barely got any sleep after last night’s incident. As Seonghwa was placed inside the ambulance and driven to a hospital, two detectives approached the rest of us and started their questioning. We were brought to the side separately and asked to retell our whole night. Of course, I was the one they questioned first as they knew I was inside with Seonghwa when the attack happened. I was shaken up and on the verge of crying, but surprisingly, Wooyoung and San stood by my side and tried to cheer me up until my mother got to us. After finishing my retelling of story, I walked to the side and sat down, curling into a ball as I felt arms holding me. It was Sana and she remained quiet as she tried to offer me some support. I appreciated her gesture, but I would’ve preferred being left alone at the moment. My mind was swirling with questions and I was frightened out of my mind. Wonwoo was nowhere to be seen and I couldn’t help but think he was the one behind the mask. Could it really be my boyfriend? The killer? I bit my lower lip at the thought and my head whipped up as I heard Wonwoo’s deep voice, laced with terror and panic as he was asking around for me. Just as we made eye contact, the two detectives stepped in front of him and brought him aside to question him as well. I could feel his gaze on me, but my mother had arrived and she was by my side in an instant, helping me up and she gave me tightest hug ever. I started crying when I felt her arms around me and she quietly shushed me, thanking Sana for sitting with me. She noticed San and Wooyoung too, nodding at them as a small greeting before she walked me towards her car. I didn’t talk to Wonwoo that night, but perhaps it was good, because I had no idea what I could’ve said to him.

Mom insisted on driving me to school this morning and I didn’t object; I wasn’t in the mood to ride the bus and act as if I didn’t feel my classmates burning gazes. I knew everyone would whisper about me again. I hated this all. I hated the killer. I hated that Yerim wasn’t here. And I hated the fact that I was helpless and couldn’t help a person who once was so dear to me. Thankfully, Seonghwa got to the hospital in time as he was losing blood fast and since he was stabilized quite quickly, he’d survive. I asked my mother to stop by his ward from time to time, to check up on him. She complied happily and told me she’d update me; I was really thankful. Before getting out of her car, I kissed my mother’s cheek, making her smile sadly at me. I had dark bags underneath my eyes and despite tying my hair up, it looked like a mess. I felt miserable, and I looked miserable. The baggy clothes weren’t helping much to offer me comfort, all I could do was sigh and pull the hood of my hoodie over my head and walk to my classroom. Everyone seemed to have eagle eyes, because as soon as I opened the entrance door, people noticed me. Some started instantly whispering, there were a few who were ignoring me or stepping out of my way as if I would hurt them, some would stop conversing and stare at me like I was some sort of freak. I hung my head low and walked up to my locker, opening it to place my backpack inside it. I sighed as I got my science book and two notebooks out, off to walk to my classroom. Sana texted me that she wasn’t feeling well and she wouldn’t attend school today, apologizing for leaving me alone. I didn’t text her back, but I appreciated her letting me know. Surprisingly it was San and Wooyoung who approached me as I was walking up the stairs.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I heard San asking me and I raised my head, eyes wide.

“Oh, I didn’t see you—” Wooyoung had a warm smile on his lips and I looked back down at the ground, “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Us neither.” Wooyoung muttered and San cleared his throat, “We visited Seonghwa before coming to school.”

“How is he?” I asked quickly, looking back up at the two boys.

“He’s in pain, but he’s doing good despite that huge cut—” San elbowed Wooyoung and I gulped, averting my eyes from them, “I mean, he’s fine, don’t worry. He asked us to tell you that he’s grateful you saved him and he hopes you’ll visit him when you feel ready.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded at the two boys wordlessly, “Thank you.”

“No problem, you know where to find us.” San smiled and bumped his shoulder with mine lightly as we got to my floor, they had to go up one more flight of stairs. I nodded at them and they waved as they took off. I sighed and took off too, headed towards my classroom, the hallway not as packed as downstairs. A few students glanced at me but seemed to ignore me mostly, it made me feel slightly better. Not too good, but at least they weren’t staring or whispering. As I looked up, I suddenly froze. Wonwoo. He was standing next to my classroom’s door, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets as he was biting his lip, looking anxious. I gulped and slowly approached him, wary still. His head turned and when he noticed me he pushed off the wall and approached me, instantly pulling me into a hug. I felt tears in my eyes as I buried my head in his chest and Wonwoo rubbed my back up and down. I grabbed his jacket and tried to keep silent as I started crying, scared and confused. How could I think it was Wonwoo? My loving boyfriend. I was so scared something happened to him. But why was he not outside when everybody else was?

“I’m so glad—” Wonwoo’s voice was low and raspy, as if he had been screaming all night long, “I’m so glad you’re alright. I was so scared—I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from that criminal, I—”

“Where were you?” I found myself whispering, desperately needing an answer to this one question only.

Wonwoo remained silent before he sighed, “I caught up with Soonyoung and then I went to the bathroom, when I got back everything had already happened—”

“Okay,” I whispered and sniffed, pulling my head back to look at him, “Don’t blame yourself. I’m fine and Seonghwa will recover.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenched and as I was looking up at him, my eyes fell on his jawline. There was a small bruise forming, slightly greenish already. My eyebrows furrowed and I felt my heart starting to beat fast. Seonghwa—he punched the Ghostface in the jaw, same exact location, before we ran out. I gulped, hands slightly shaking, as I took Wonwoo’s right hand and interlaced our fingers, bringing it up to my eye level. Wonwoo watched me wordlessly, eyebrows slightly furrowed. I maintained eye contact as I brought his hand to my lips, pressing a kiss against it. And just before lowering it, I glanced down, and my blood ran cold. There. On his hand. Red scratches which Byeol left on him when they were playing. His hand, bare. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. I shivered and stepped back, releasing his hand as I tried to act nonchalant. Wonwoo watched me confused as I stumbled over my words.

“I—I have to go—” I opened the classroom door, avoiding eye contact, “I’m late.”

“Y/N—” But I stepped inside the classroom and slammed the door shut, biting my lower lip, whole body shaking as I approached my desk and sat down. It was Wonwoo last night. Right? Was it really him? What do I do?

           My mother tried to switch her shifts with a nurse she was friends with, but she couldn’t make it. She didn’t want to take the night shift tonight, worried to leave me home alone, but I reassured her I would be fine. In fact, I felt like shit and didn’t want to be alone, but remained silent and decided to have a Harry Potter marathon, that way I wouldn’t fall asleep and could wait for my mother to return home in the morning. It was a Friday, so it would work out. I desperately needed a good sleep, but I could deal with that later. I cooked some dinner for myself and played with Byeol, but after she got bored and went to sleep in my room, I decided to take a shower and start the movie marathon. I definitely lost track of time while showering, because my phone kept ringing, but I didn’t feel like answering. My mother would never call me while working, so I knew it was Wonwoo. But I didn’t want to talk to him. My mind was a mess and I didn’t know what to believe anymore. He couldn’t be the killer, but some signs were pointing at him and it was eating me up alive. I was scared and confused. My gut told me to sleep on it and ask him tomorrow, but for some reason staying away from him felt most comforting. Getting out of the shower I got dressed in sweatpants and Yerim’s favorite pink hoodie, eyeing Wonwoo’s sweater resting on my chair. He left it here when he slept over and told me to keep it until he’d sleep over again. Brushing my fingers against it as I towel dried my hair with one hand, I shivered. Its scent once brought comfort, but now I felt uncomfortable. Byeol was sitting on my bed and for once it wasn’t storming outside, I was thankful. Just as I placed my towel on my desk, my phone rang again. I sighed and walked up to it as it was charging on my nightstand, and despite expecting it to be Wonwoo calling, it was an unknown number. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart started racing as I remembered the time when I spoke with the Ghostface on Yerim’s phone. I took my phone and walked to the window, looking through the curtain.

“Hello?” I asked as I picked up the call, chewing on my lip. There was some heavy breathing on the other side, freaking me out.

“Hi.” I froze for a second as the Ghostface’s robotic voice came through the phone. What did they want? Were they here to kill me? The thought sent panic through my body and I quickly made sure my window was locked before pulling down the blinds as well.

“What do you want?” I demanded, voice shaking but still harsh.

The Ghostface chuckled, “You gone.”

I shuddered as tears suddenly sprung into my eyes, “You killed Yerim, didn’t you?”

“I did.” Was their answer and I sniffed, wiping away a tear as I raced down the stairs, to make sure all doors were locked.

“Why?”

“Multiple reasons,” The Ghostface sighed as I checked the front door, “One, she was always rude to me. Two, she never gave me a chance and the list just goes on, Y/N.”

“So you killed her.” I said accusingly, checking the door in the living room as well. It wasn’t locked, but I locked it now and pulled the curtains closed as well.

“Well she pissed me off to my last nerve, didn’t have much off a choice—”

“You don’t kill someone because they piss you off!” I screamed into the phone, shaking and fuming. How could they?! Kill someone because they pissed them off?! This is not how life works.

“I do.” The Ghostface laughed and I felt like screaming.

“What do you want?” I repeated, body shaking from anger and fear too.

“To kill you, honestly, I’ve had enough of you too.” I gulped and turned by back to the door, walking back outside in the hallway.

“I won’t go down easy.” I muttered and the Ghostface just laughed.

“A fragile girl can’t do much damage to me, sweetheart.” They said and I chuckled sarcastically.

“You’ll have to wait for another night then, you can’t come in if the doors and windows are all locked.”

“They are locked, now.” I froze, heart thumping fast, “But they weren’t until you locked the one in the living room just minutes ago.”

The voice now didn’t come through the phone only, they were here. Inside. Close. Too close. Shakingly, I slowly turned towards the kitchen entrance, and screamed. The same person from the Haunted House was standing in the doorway of my kitchen. Black gown and a Ghostface mask, glows, and a sharp knife in their hand. The Ghostface laughed, dropping the phone as it took off towards me and I panicked, showing the phone in the hoodie’s pocket as I started running, headed for the laundry room. I quickly entered and locked the door, whimpering when the person started pounding on it. Why did they want to kill me? What did I do? Who was behind the mask? As I reached for my phone to call the police, the pounding stopped, the sudden silence making me jump. Did they leave already?

“If you don’t come out, I’ll start with Byeol.” I whimpered and covered my lips, tears streaming down my cheeks at the thought of the person killing my cat. How did they know her name? I couldn’t let them kill her, she was my everything, “I’m headed to find her—”

“Stop!” I screamed and gripped the doorknob, “I’ll come out, just don’t hurt her.”

The Ghostface laughed and I heard them grumbling, “Stupid people with love for their stupid animals.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, readying myself to face the criminal on the other side of the door. If I had to die tonight, then I would. But I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I was feeling extremely hot in the hoodie, but it was Yerim’s, and all of a sudden, a wave of bravery washed over me as if Yerim was telling me that I could do it, that I could survive. If she believed in me, then I could believe in myself too. Wiping my stray tears away, I unlocked the door. The click of it seemed to be so loud in the silence, and with shaking hands, I pushed open the door. It opened very slowly and I held onto the doorknob tightly. There it was. The Ghostface, leaning against the wall. I couldn’t see their face, but I could swear they were smirking. I was glaring at them, breathing hard as I released the doorknob.

“There you are.” They said in a sing song voice, suddenly raising their knife. It was my cue to run off. And so I did just that, I took off, and ran towards the kitchen. The only problem was that it had no doors and two entrances. My goal was to get the Ghostface to follow me outside, far away from my cat and close enough to other people to see and call the cops for me. Their loud thumping made it obvious enough that they were following me and I stopped in front of the sink, the counter putting distance between us. Nobody said anything, we just stared each other down. My muscles were tense and I felt the adrenaline kicking in, making my shaking even worse. Before the Ghostface could react, I took off again, running for the door. I barely got in the doorway, when a hand gripped my hair and I was hauled back. I cried out in pain and quickly groaned as I was thrown on the floor.

“Yerim screamed a lot more than you, you know?” The Ghostface taunted and I sneered at them as I got up, getting backed into the wall. What could I do? Take their knife would be an option. The Ghostface raised the knife and lightly grazed it against my neck, making me gasp. I was breathing through my mouth, barely able to think of my next move. They raised their other hand and gripped my neck, pulling our faces close to each other.

“But you both seem to be just as dumb—” And just like that I headbutted them. I didn’t wait for them to finish the sentence or plunge the knife in my stomach. The person stumbled backwards and dropped their knife in shock. What a dumb move. I reacted faster and picked it up in a flash, pointing it at them.

“How does it feel to have your own weapon pointed at you?” I hissed and the Ghostface groaned, starting to stomp their feet. Were they seriously throwing a tantrum right now? I watched confused, but stayed alert.

“You’re not ruining my fun tonight, Y/N!” They screamed and charged at me. The smart thing to do would’ve been running away and out of the house, but I froze. If I had the knife, could they still kill me? Of course, there were many ways to do that, but my brain went blank. And just last second, I dropped the knife, scared to stab anyone. I wasn’t a killer; I couldn’t do it. The Ghostface grabbed my neck and started squeezing it, but I was fighting back. I wasn’t about to die. I tried pushing him backwards, and it was working. The Ghostface was muttering things I couldn’t understand, but I stumbled and stepped on their long gown. The person tripped over my leg and before I knew it, their hands were gone from my neck and they were falling backwards. I gasped and watched as the person hit their head on the edge of the counter and fell to the floor limply. I stood shocked, not knowing what to do. They weren’t moving anymore, I carefully pushed their leg with my foot, but they didn’t react. I approached them, heart racing and forehead sweaty as I leaned down and touched the mask. I had to know. I had to know who killed my best friend, Mina, Seungkwan and tried to kill Seonghwa and now me. So, without thinking for another second, I ripped the mask off. I felt my body going numb at the sight, ears ringing as I stared down at the blond laying unconsciously on my kitchen floor. My lips started trembling and my body started shaking more violently as I clutched the mask tightly, hand hurting from the force. Kwon Soonyoung lay unconscious in front of me. Blood was slowly seeping from underneath his head. How could it be him? I started crying loudly and threw the Ghostface mask on the floor, stomping on it and screaming. How could he kill Yerim?! How could he! In all the ruckus and screaming, Byeol woke up and her loud meows were the ones which brought me back to reality. She was staying away, gazing at me with her big eyes, meowing loudly. I was sobbing and started walking towards her, when the doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. Knocking. Panicked screaming. Asking to be let inside. The voice of my boyfriend. Jeon Wonwoo. My boyfriend. Acting without much thinking, I ran up to the door and unlocked it, throwing it open. Wonwoo was panting and he gasped when he saw me. I flung myself into his body, hugging him tightly and crying loudly. He hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around me and slowly walking me inside the house, closing the door behind us. I was crying, I couldn’t do anything else. Soonyoung killed my best friend because she didn’t like him back. Because she didn’t want to date him. Who kills for a reason like that! I couldn’t hear Byeol meowing anymore, Wonwoo was caressing my head and kissing it softly, muttering words to calm me down. I found my breath again and pulled away, finding comfort in his arms. He was here. He was here to witness it all. He was here to take Byeol and I away from this nightmare.

“He—he did—it.” I stuttered out, body shaking, “Soonyoung. He killed—everyone.”

Wonwoo’s face went blank as he looked towards the kitchen entrance, but the only thing he could see from here was the destroyed Ghostface mask on the floor. His grip seemed to loosen around me as he looked back at me.

“Soonyoung killed Yerim, Wonwoo.” I whispered as I wiped my tears away, “He killed Mina and—”

“He didn’t kill Mina.” Wonwoo’s voice was void of any emotion. I shivered, “He didn’t try to kill Seonghwa either.”

I shook my head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What—what are you saying? He’s the criminal, he—” I winced when Wonwoo’s grip suddenly turned painful on my arms, and I stepped back. His bruise on his jaw was now a dark blue, it looked like it hurt a lot. The cat scratches on his hand were still red.

“You—” I gasped and slapped his hands away, taking a step back, “You killed—Mina and Seonghwa—”

“I failed to kill that bastard, but it’s not too late yet.” I started shaking my head, feeling like my whole world was ending.

“What are you saying, Wonwoo—” Suddenly he was all up in my face, holding my chin roughly as he made me look him in the eyes. His expression scared me. His eyes were almost black and manic as he stared into mine. His lips were curled into an amused sneer and all warmth had disappeared from his aura. This wasn’t Wonwoo. This wasn’t my boyfriend. This was someone else. Someone I didn’t know and was scared off.

“I killed Mina. I tried to kill Seonghwa and now—” His pause made me gulp, his voice was quiet when he continued, “I have to kill you too.”

I whimpered and started shaking my head, gripping his wrist, “No, Wonwoo—Listen to me, you’re not like this, I can—”

“How would you know what I am like when I never allowed you to see the real me?” His words felt like someone dropped a cold ice bucket on me, numbness washed over my whole body. Was it all fake? All this time? Everything between us?

“Did you ever love me?” I found myself whispering, it was the least important thing to know right now, but I had to know.

“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone.” I sniffled, heart breaking and head spinning. Before I could react in any way, Wonwoo’s lips crashed against mine. I was disgusted, I didn’t want to be kissing him. But I couldn’t help myself. I still loved him despite his terrible confession. Despite him saying he wanted to kill me, I still loved him. So I kissed him back with the same fire he was kissing me, our lips crashing against each other’s messily, painfully. Maybe it was our last goodbye, maybe it wasn’t. I didn’t know what this kiss meant, until I felt Wonwoo’s hands around my neck and my eyes flew open. He was squeezing me, not allowing an ounce of air into my lungs. I tried pulling my head back, but he wasn’t letting me. He was still kissing me, but I couldn’t do the same. I clawed at his arms, gripping his wrists and yanking on them but he wasn’t budging. I started seeing black and I felt like throwing up, finally, Wonwoo’s lips left mine and I tried gasping for air but it wasn’t working. I tried talking, but it wasn’t working. I was going to die. In Yerim’s favorite hoodie, by the hands of my once lover. My grip fell from Wonwoo’s wrists and I felt my legs giving out, body limp. I didn’t want to die, I really didn’t. Not like this. I had no power, yet something so strong, as if someone knocked the last gust of wind out of my lungs, gave me the power to raise my knee and kneel Wonwoo in the groins. It might’ve been weak, but Wonwoo yelped loudly and released me, my body falling to the ground. I started coughing and gasping, holding my burning neck as my head hung low. My lungs were on fire and my eyes filled with tears as I filled my lungs desperately with air. Wonwoo was doubled over, groaning and hissing in pain. Perhaps I could escape him. Walk around him and out the door. So I tried, I got up from the ground, legs almost buckling, but I tried. I started walking, catching Wonwoo’s attention as his head whipped up and he reached for me, but I stepped back. He was starting to straighten up, still groaning, realizing I was getting better. I barely had any power, but I was starting to breathe again. He lunged for me and I realized walking in the kitchen was my best escape right now. So, I entered and my eyes fell on an unconscious Soonyoung, making me shudder again. I tried to run, but my legs felt heavy. I went to walk around the counter and grab a knife, but Wonwoo grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. The knife Soonyoung was holding was in his hands now. I shook my head at him and begged him to let me go. We couldn’t figure this out, but he had to let me go. If he loved me, he would’ve done that. But he didn’t want to. The knife was angled at my stomach and I took a deep breath, turning my hand into a fist. I had no power left in me anymore, this was my last shot at life. So, as Wonwoo raised the knife to stab me, I punched his jaw, just where Seonghwa had punched him yesterday, and grabbed the knife with my other hand out of his. He groaned loudly and looked at me with an animalistic look in his eyes. The knife was pointed at him and one move sealed the deal. I guess he didn’t notice I pointed the knife at him as he ran straight into it. We gasped at the same time and stared at each other wide eyed. I didn’t want to do this, but he gave me no other choice. I released the knife and watched as Wonwoo fell to his knees, starting to cry. He was begging me for forgiveness and asking me to love him, but I couldn’t hear him. My ears were ringing.

“Byeol! Byeol!” I was screaming at the top of my lungs, throat scratchy from getting chocked. I heard a faint meow coming from the living room and ran inside, looking for my cat, “Byeol, please come here!”

And she showed up, she crawled out from underneath the sofa and ran up to me, coming into my arms as I picked her up. I shushed her and ran towards the front door, not sparing another glance inside the kitchen as I grabbed my phone from Yerim’s hoodie’s pocket. I stumbled off the stairs on the porch as I started getting light headed, but I managed to dial the police.

“112, what’s your emergency?”

Masterlist

[snaillamp]

Chapter 10 - Memories

“It’s been two days and he hasn’t moved…” Nathaniel murmured tiredly, wiping Keh-yah’s face again.

Mark looked up from his slouched position, rubbing his balding head.

“Hmm?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I said it’s been two days, and he hasn’t moved. He’s not doing well Mark…”

Nathaniel looked up at the man as he stood and shuffled over to Keh-yah, who’d been moved to the sofa upstairs.

It was too cold in the basement, too dark and too musty, and up in the lounge room was the bathroom and kitchen close by, if they needed to get him anything.

Keh-yah grimaced, whining slightly.

“Is he waking up?” Nathaniel asked, looking hopeful. The demon sighed slightly, his face relaxing and head tilting as it grew heavy again.

He went limp, with priests standing over him, waiting with baited breath as they waited for him to draw another breath. His chest rose slowly as he fought for his life, Nathaniel looking over at Mark.

“Can demons die?”

Mark shook his head, grimacing, “I believe so… Let’s just hope he’s strong enough to fight this…”

~~

Keh-yah awoke in the cell, Daga standing over him, grinning wickedly.

“Hello little demon, did you have a nice nap?”

Keh-yah ignored him, staring at his eight toes, all bruised and broken from Daga standing on them a few days ago. He’d been here for a few weeks, and the torture was fairly tame, all things considered.

Minor stabbing, fingers and toes being crushed, being drenched in ice water.

It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle… But these cuffs, they reduced his immunity to everything, heat, cold, pain…

He was more human like, with human levels of resistance to things, and it was awful.

Keh-yah could navigate the arctic circle like it was a warm summer field, stand in the rain and barely get cold, traverse deserts and not need to stop for water or shade…

And now these cuffs made him so weak, and it was only getting worse, every day he could feel them draining his power.

“You’ve done well to last so long… too bad that this is merely the beginning…” Daga drawled, depending into another long speech about how the Angel race was going to take over the world as the rightful owners, and how demons, his kind, were an inferior, submissive race that deserved to be wiped off the planet…

Which Daga had succeeded in doing, as he made sure to remind Keh-yah constantly.

Daga grabbed Keh-yah’s jaw, yanking it upwards and forcing Keh-yah’s black eyes to look at his.

“Look at me when I speak to you, scum.” Keh-yah smirked, meeting the Angel’s eyes and locking onto them with his own, featureless black eyes.

Daga felt a chill run down his spine as Keh-yah sat there, on the ground, unblinking, as his arms hung from the chains that suspended them above his head.

Daga blinked, breaking the eye contact but could still feel the demon’s eyes boring into him from across the cell. It creeped the Angel out.

Keh-yah maintained his eye contact with the Angel, not moving as Daga tried to start his speech up again, but he faltered as Keh-yah stared into his very soul…

Shivering slightly, Daga grimaced. “You’re asking for it, you know. I wasn’t going to go this hard on you this fast… But you’re not behaving.”

Kah-yah remained staring at Daga as the Angel left the cell, coming back with a large, wooden club.

Keh-yah had seen it before, Daga had used it a couple of days ago to cave in his ribs. Ribs that had painfully cracked and snapped themselves back into place that night, slower than normal… more painfully than normal…

Keh-yah’s chest began to tighten in anticipation, as Dana lifted it and brought it crashing down onto his stomach.

Keh-yah gasped as the air was knocked out of him, but this was fine, pain was temporary. Daga cackled as he beat the demon a few more times, but soon grew bored with Keh-yah as he refused to react to the pain.

Daga lifted a small lighter to the tip or the bat, setting it alight and holding it in front of Keh-yah’s nose.

“You’ll like this…” He growled.

Swinging the flaming bat, Daga sent it flying into Keh-yah’s chest, burning pain screaming through Keh-yah. His body jolted, back arching as he hissed.

Daga laughed, burning Keh-yah’s arms one by one, dragging the bat from his wrist to his hip.

Keh-yah bared his teeth, gritting them as the Angel burned him again and again.

By the end of the session, Keh-yah was almost unrecognisable, almost every inch of accessible skin on his chest arms and legs burned raw.

Daga sighed, knowing it would only last a few hours. But then the thought of doing it all again made him laugh…

That was going to be fun.

He returned a few hours later to see Keh-yah slumped against the wall, hands hanging in the shackles as he healed. The burns were pretty much gone, nothing left except a few flakes of tough skin.

“Ready to do it all again?” He asked, glee in his voice.

Keh-yah smirked, “Tch, you thought that was worse?”

Daga hid his offence well, but Keh-yah could tell he’d struck a nerve.

Daga ripped out his knife, stabbing Keh-yah in the guts, chest and legs, leaving him to bleed and choke on his collapsed lungs.

Stupid creature ruining all his fun.

~

Day after day he returned to attack the Demon, until one day Keh-yah awoke suspended from the ceiling. The long chain above his head had been unravelled and hooked to a large ceiling hook in the centre of the cell.

Keh-yah lifted his heavy head. His injuries were healing slower than ever, taking days, rather than a day now… and he was starting to feel the toll.

“Ah, good, you’re finally awake.” Daga drawled, walking around to Keh-yah and unravelling a whip.

It was braided with streaks of a shimmering silver.

“You’re well aware of what Blessed Silver does to your kind, aren’t you?” Keh-yah ignored him, his thoughts racing as his feet settled against the cold, concrete floor.

“Yes, you are… This is going to be fun.”

Keh-yah heard the whip unravel behind him, the swoop sound as it swung through the air, and cracked against his back, splitting the skin between his shoulders deeply.

Keh-yah saw white as a streak of the worst pain he’d ever felt ripped through his body, to his very bones. He’d been nicked by Blessed Silver before, but this was a whole new level of pain. He might actually pass out…

The guards standing down the hall from the cell heard the first, blood curdling scream echo from the cell.

Screams of something in extreme pain, the very sound of a soul shattering. It made them look back in shock as they heard another crack and another scream, more ragged, rasping and harsh.

They continued for minutes, until they awkwardly died down with a strange choked gasp.

Daga emerged from the cell, whip dripping with blue blood, as he left the unconscious demon hanging by his arms from the ceiling. Waterfalls of blood flowed from the deep lacerations on his back, the deepest of which revealed bone.

A rapidly growing puddle of blood was forming at his feet, dripping from his toes, that barely brushed the floor. As the guards entered the cell, they lifted the chain from the hook and let the demon’s body crumple to the ground.

Winding the chain back up, his arms again suspended above his head, they left him slumped against the wall, a newly formed puddle of blood already seeping across the already blood smeared concrete floor…

It was a few days of silence after that, the guards only checking to see if the demon was alive. He was, barely.

Daga returned after a week, as the lacerations had finally stitched themselves back together and showed the demon the whip again…

Keh-yah stared at it with vacant eyes. He didn’t care anymore… He would die in this place, it may as well come soon.

“Tell me, demon… how do I gain the immortality you posses… Let me cross into the other world, let me raise my army!”

Keh-yah looked at him blankly. “It does not exist, Daga.”

The Angel screamed, whipping him across the face. “Then how do you do it?”

“It’s within our natural abilities, as it is that you can raise life, I raise the dead… I cannot make a life, and you cannot take them to their end…” Keh-yah repeated the phrase he'd said a thousand times.

“LIAR!” Daga screeched, whipping Keh-yah’s neck, sending warm blood gushing over his left shoulder.

The demon grimaced as he felt his veins thread themselves back together, his skin scabbing over with a thick, black wound. Daga huffed in frustration, leaving and coming back the next day to rant to the demon again.

~

Days wore on, weeks, perhaps even a year, the torture becoming the same few tactics.

For a master warrior, Daga sure wasn’t creative when it came to torture methods.

After he’d realised Keh-yah’s wounds were healing slower and slower, he reassessed, not wanting to actually kill the creature.

Keh-yah couldn’t have wanted that more, after everything…

~~

Keh-yah’s breathing became more ragged as he jerked slightly in his sleep.

“He’s having a nightmare.” Mark murmured to himself, Nathaniel had gone to bed hours ago, unable to stay awake…

“Come on Keh-yah… You can do it. Break through this fever.” I

t had gotten worse, as the fever got worse, his condition had changed, the nightmares had started and the myrrh oil, while it seemed to be helping, was not helping him rest well.

“Come on Keh-yah. You’ve survived so much, don’t give up now.” Mark stroked the demon’s sweaty hair as he comforted him.

He was in so much pain right now… and there was nothing he could do…

~~

One night, the guards suddenly burst into the cell, and a tight collar was thrust around Keh-yah’s throat, the Blessed Silver burning his skin and sapping the energy from his body.

He felt so weak as his powers drained from his very spirit, as his arms were yanked higher above his head, threatening to pull his arms from his sockets, and forcing him to kneel.

Keh-yah couldn’t even project the pain he was feeling into the guard’s minds, which usually made them ease up on him a little. This was a whole new level of bad for him.

He was about to be tortured in ways he couldn’t imagine.

He only hoped his body could manage, and if it couldn’t it would be a swift death.

Daga walked in, smirking as he held up a device. It was a large wand, which the Angel fiddled with, before it began buzzing. “Now, scum. This is something quite new, that I’ve been told is pretty efficient at getting information from… tough prisoners.”

The Angel smiled, his teeth shining in the dark as Keh-yah braced himself, causing Daga to laugh.

Keh-yah didn’t know why, but he set his jaw, determined not to let the Angel win. He wouldn’t so much as wince.

Guards came into the room, pulling the chain over to the hook, and suspending Keh-yah from the ceiling, only to clamp a collar around his neck. It was also put on the hook above him, letting him hand a bit more by his neck than Keh-yah found comfortable.

Daga thrust the hot wand against Keh-yah’s body, sending volts of electricity into his torso making Keh-yah’s muscles jerk in the restraints, pulling his arms even more and threatening to rip them from their joints. He couldn't project any of the pain out of his mind into Daga's... The collar was stopping him...

Keh-yah however, kept his mouth sealed, opening his eyes and staring at Daga with a smirk, the darkness closing in on his vision a little.

“What...? Is that... supposed to scare me?” The demon spat, the bravery in his words only a front, as he braced for more torture.

It did hurt.

A lot…

But his stubbornness was too strong, his defiance.

There was nothing to tell Daga, so he wasn’t going to let him torture Keh-yah and have fun with it.

He was shocked again, longer and harder, and felt his arms pop from their joints, now suspended by his neck, choking him.

“Tell me, Keh-yah…” Daga reached over and stroked Keh-yah’s jaw. “Tell me how I can manifest the dead. Live an eternal life… Give me the power to live forever and you will be free.”

Keh-yah scoffed as the hand around his chin tightened. There were six, long fingers on each hand, and each was pressing hard into his skin, bruising it.

Smirking, Keh-yah gave him the closest answer he could think of.

“Die, Daga.”

Daga grabbed Keh-yah’s hair and yanked him upwards, shocking the demon again and again with the wand, until Keh-yah cracked, screaming loudly.

It was then that he smirked, beginning to chuckle under his breath, his deep voice growing louder as he laughed more and more. He was winning.

“You don’t get it, do you Daga?” Keh-yah’s voice was calm and level, as he felt the last of his sanity slipping from his grasp, like water through his fingers.

“There is no secret…” He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of it all. “You’re wasting your breath, time and life looking for something that isn’t even there…”

The demon sighed, looking at Daga with hollow, dull eyes. “You’ll die before you ever get the answer.”

And with that, Keh-yah shut his mouth, refusing to speak, unless it was to mutter then same phrase:

“Die.”

His eyes went distant, and his body limp, Daga becoming more and more angry. The joy he felt from torturing the demon began to wane, and his hand shot forward, tightening to collar around his neck.

The demon gasped, his long purple tongue flickering in the darkness like a snake, as the energy inside him flickered a little.

Daga shocked him again, “Come on, it’s just one little spell…”

“There is no spell…” Keh-yah whispered.

“There is. Tell me.”

“Die.”

Keh-yah screamed as he was shocked a final time, before Daga stepped back, panting. He eyed Keh-yah, a new look in his eye.

“What?” Keh-yah spat, voice rough and quiet.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Daga was strangely calm, his eyes holding Keh-yah’s, unblinking.

“Perhaps, if you knew why I wanted it, you would be more… sympathetic to my cause. You are a reasonable creature, I know that much.” He leaned forward, caressing Keh-yah’s jaw.

Keh-yah bared his teeth, pulling his head out of the Angel’s hand.

“You see,” Daga continued, “I need to be immortal to raise an army, but you know that… But I want to raise this army because…” He looked sad.

“Humans. The last few centuries, they keep getting worse… Genocides, war, pollution, chemicals, radiation, it is all so… suffocating…

My kind, Angels, our survival is being threatened. We do not have the ability to live forever as you do, your infinite lifespan blinds you to the plight of mortals… like me.

It is only a matter of time before my kind is wiped out, so I decided to do something about it. We want to fight back, defend ourselves from human kind, before they get us… They cannot be trusted with such power, and so I will bring balance to the world, and make it right, give the true, rightful owners of this planet control over it all. The humans need to learn their place.

Humans are divorced from nature, we are nature, and with immortality, we will make this place truly ours, like is our right.

It is them, or us.”

Keh-yah just took it all blank faced, not reacting to anything. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of Daga’s words, but he knew better than that.

Daga growled, leaving the cell.

In his weakened state, Keh-yah could barely see a thing, as the melting snow dripping from the small window above him travelled down the wall, and onto his back. It chilled him more than it should… he was growing even worse…

The cold water dripped from the window down onto his skin… chilling his spine… as he spoke to himself in the ancient language of his kind, projecting it into the minds of the guards at the door, just to know that he was still being guarded. It was nice, knowing he wasn't alone...

The water kept dripping down onto his spine.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

~~

“He’s gone cold.” Mark mumbled to himself, looking at the demon.

He’d been twitching in and out of nightmares, stuck in a coma, but this was bad.

Nathaniel looked up from his phone, concerned. “What do we do?”

Mark sighed, saying the phrase he’d been rehearsing in his head for hours. “Let’s make him comfortable.” He paused slightly. “I’m sorry, Keh-yah…”

Nathaniel nodded sadly, coming over to the other priest as staring down at the demon.

Despite his… sinful lust, he was quite fond of the creature, there was a sarcastic, mischievous character hidden behind that stoic mask, and Nathaniel had really enjoyed the little company they’d had together.

Mark got the crucible alight, the gentle myrrh smoke drifting over the demon’s wounds, making his muscles twitch under the skin.

Keh-yah shuddered, making Nathaniel jump as the demon’s breath rattled.

“Death rattles?” Nathaniel looked to the tired, older priest beside him.

“No. The infection must’ve reached his lungs…” He glanced at the various thing scattered around them, containers full of holy water, olive oil, myrrh oil, isopropyl alcohol, antiseptic and wine. They’d been treating the wounds with everything, but the infection was too deep.

Keh-yah murmured something with the faintest whisper… It sounded like he was speaking backwards, something Mark had begun calling Demon Speak.

“Get the wine, at least then he won’t be in pain.” Mark murmured to Nathaniel, who reached for one of the little jugs they’d grabbed from somewhere, pouring it down Keh-yah’s throat without even checking it.

He was so tired…

“Nate. That was the olive oil!” Mark yelped, realising the fatigued, young priest’s mistake.

Nathaniel stepped back, horrified, and worried that Keh-yah would be in more pain than before, as the demon’s face twitched.

Mark rushed forwards, pouring the wine he had left down Keh-yah’s throat, turning away his head from the stench of the blood that it became in the demon's mouth.

They watched Keh-yah barely managed to slowly swallow, but he didn’t look any better.

“I’m sorry, Keh-yah. May God, or whoever deals with you have mercy on your soul.” Mark murmured, watching as the demon began shudder, his breathing becoming uneven.

The two men sat by Keh-yah’s side, Nathaniel taking his cold hand and gently massaging it, hoping he knew he wasn’t alone in the end.

~~

The torture grew worse, more impatient and violent. Pouring acid down Keh-yah’s throat and nailing his hands to the wall above him, stabbing his throat and letting him bleed, only to watch his skin feebly knit itself together.

Keh-yah’s muscle began to wither, the demon now resembling a skeleton, more than a living being. The cuffs were enchanted to tighten around his thinning wrists, and his skin grew tight around his ribs.

Keh-yah hadn’t seen a living creature except Daga… for decade? A century?

It had been too long, so he had taken to passing the time by trying to manifest enough energy to survive, his whispering projecting out into the world.

He knew the guards could hear his ramblings, as were rotated frequently due to his whispers causing them to lose their minds. That, and the changing torture methods where the only things indicating to Keh-yah that the world and its' technology was still advancing whilst he was trapped inside.

As he slowly faded, Daga brought new toys, like tasers and shock collars. He threw acids and burned Keh-yah, watching as it began to take weeks, and then months for his body to heal itself. At full strength, it would’ve taken mere minutes.

His hair had grown dull and limp, hanging around his hips as he slumped against the wall behind him, and that damn wet slime slid over his bony spine.

He was ready to die.

Perhaps he could manifest it himself. A small part of him wanted a guard to lose it and kill him, or maybe he’d starve to death. Could he starve to death? It certainly was a possibility, but his body was stronger than any human, any creature with a natural life span…

He shut his eyes, hanging in the shackles, and focusing on slowing his heart down, holding his breath and hoping his body would give in.

Then he heard it…

A voice…

He couldn’t tell who’s it was...

“Keh-yah.” It snapped, “You have to get up.”

“I’m not afraid to die…” Keh-yah whispered in reply.

“Keh-yah…” It spoke firmly.

It sounded like a dozen voices, the voices of every demon, every reaper, his friends, his family… his kind… Everyone who had been killed were talking to him at once, voices of deep and high voices, silvery and gravelly…

Everyone…

“I’m dying.” Keh-yah smiled wistfully as he thought about finally being free of his aching body.

“Get up.” The voice was more serious now.

“I’m tired.” Keh-yah argued.

“Get up.”

“I’m ready to go.”

“You’re not supposed to come.”

“Please…” Keh-yah begged, only for a guard to bang on the door.

“SHUT UP DEMON!”

Keh-yah felt the voice disappear, and sighed…

He wanted to die.

~

The new guard shuddered as he felt a cold chill curl around his spine, as quiet whispers of a language he didn’t know filled his head.

“What’s it even saying?” The new guard asked he other guard beside him.

“Who knows. It used to mutter stuff to itself about 8 years ago, but as it gets weaker it can’t even do that, so it… projects itself into our heads, probably to entertain it’s sick mind, creep.”

“How hasn’t it died?”

“It’s a demon. They’re powerful. It’s why we killed them all, so that they couldn’t free it when we caught it. It’s the last one left. The one who apparently is supposed to know how to live forever. Hence why it’s not dead I guess.

Better to get them before they get us hey?”

The new guard peeked into the cell to glance at the demon.

He was naked, his pale skin stretched over his joints revealing every bone and tendon. His heavy, emaciated head hung heavily, his hands limp in the shackles holding his arms above his head, and a collar tight around his neck, a heavy loop for a chain to be clipped tio it pulling his head down.

“It looks dead.”

“It’s not.” The older guard replied flatly.

Suddenly, the demon’s head snapped up and it’s black eyes met the and the new guard’s, who felt a searing pain through his body.

The other guard bursting into laughter as the kid covered his ears to stop the loud screaming coming from the demon’s thoughts, and staggered back from the door.

“Don’t worry, everyone makes that mistake.”

The guard, shaken, nodded, making a mental note not to look at the demon again. The creature really was cursed.

“Heigta.” The older guard introduced himself.

“Mahnyel.”

“Heh, nice to meet you, Mahnyel. Welcome to Hell.”

Mahnyel nodded, shuddering.

~

Keh-yah felt a new soul approach. He refocused, trying to save his energy. If he could hold onto a little of his mind, he could maybe harness enough of the power left in him to escape…

The kid peeked onto his cell, and Keh-yah locked eyes with him, screaming in agony, projecting it into the Angel’s mind, relieving some of the pain he was constantly in, at least for a moment.

It distracted them from the possibility he may figure out how to escape.

He’d been trying for years with no luck though… And he hadn’t heard anything from the voice…

It was a hallucination…

He knew it…

It meant he would die soon...

Drip…

Drip…

Drip…

This dripping was driving him crazy.

He could hear the guards talking outside.

He wanted nothing more than to die…

The water was cold on his spine.

It was driving him up the wall, the dripping.

The dripping.

The dripping…

It was driving him crazy.

The collar was so tight…

He felt it getting hot, as he felt the insanity build in him…

His senses heightened, as his vision became clearer and more focused than it had been in decades… His smell revealed the rot of his cell in his long broken nose.

His skin prickled at the cold water dripping down onto him and he’d let more alive than he had in a long time…

~~

Keh-yah moaned, murmuring slurred Demon Speak, and twitching slightly.

His muscles spasmed, and he grunted slightly, before going still. With each exhale, he groaned softly, shuddering in pain as he fought the sepsis.

His skin had started to become incredibly hot, Nathaniel quickly pulling his hand away in shock.

The demon’s cheeks burned red as sweat began to pour from his skin, his rasping breaths getting faster as his body continued to burn.

~~

As Keh-yah’s senses tightened, and the collar becoming hotter. He could feel something churning in his chest and stomach, shooting painfully down his legs.

He bit his tongue, determined not to scream, as he squeezed his eyes shut in agony. The collar grew hotter and tighter, choking him, until it vibrated against his skin, and exploded, small shards of silver shooting into the bricks of the cell, leaving him gasping for air.

Then the burning began.

The burning, shooting pain in his stomach and legs went up into his head and arms. His skin began to swell his muscles growing rapidly, his eyes glowing with their golden light, only visible when his body entered it’s strongest state.

Keh-yah yanked the chains in a sudden rage, feeling something give, as chains cascaded down around him. The new strength inside him burned, as he let the chains drag around behind him, staring at door that he’d been staring at for decades…

He walked up to it, and kicked it, sending it flying into the opposite wall, the two guards jumping back in surprise. The drew their weapons, blades coated in Blessed Silver and lunged at him.

Keh-yah bared his teeth, dodging the guards, then swinging his arms to send the chains flying at the guards. Both of the long, large chains slammed into their skulls, sending them crumpling to ground.

Sniffing the air, Keh-yah stalked down the hall, winding each chain around his wrists, creeping through the shadows. No one noticed the two golden rings looking out at them from the darkness, until an alarm went off. He would have to be even more stealthy.

Keh-yah snuck through more hallways, searching for an exit, dropping down from ceilings, or lashing out from the shadows, snatching guards and ending them, their necks crunching satisfyingly.

It had been so long since he’d killed an Angel…

And he still took no pride in it. Noticing an old, empty sack on the ground, he slid it on. It would be easier to camouflage if he needed to.

He ended up running along a beam, suspended above a walkway, a bridge connecting two floors over a void, with a railing each side, watching, waiting for guards to come. He wanted to observe which way the troops were coming, and following them towards an exit.

Suddenly a yell echoed through the room, and he looked down to see a troop of guards pointing up towards him.

The guards were all dressed in swinging silver armour, swords drawn, and ready to fight.

Keh-yah dropped down onto the platform, dropping the chains to the ground and smirking. The guards all rushed forward, as he swung the chains. The long, heavy metal flew towards the guard’s faces, cracking their helmets open and embedding the ends in their brain matter.

These were young guards… barely 300 years old…

Keh-yah lashed out at another guard, wrapping the chains around his neck and pulling it tight. His skin was turning silver as the Angel blood leaked over him, and the guard’s head rolled to the floor.

His power was turning his hands and forearms black, a protective layer of thick skin that emerged when his powers would blow his flesh off. It felt so good to be this strong again…

He dispatched the last few guards, slicing them to pieces with the chains, when a boot clamped down on the one trailing behind him, his left arm jolting as he tried to move.

“Not so fast, little demon…” Daga growled, holding up a bow.

As Keh-yah turned, his body was suddenly riddled with bullets and arrows, from all angles. He managed to deflect a few with the cuffs, still clamped around his wrists. But there were too many arrows, bullets… He gasped, falling to his knees, as he felt his body weaken…

���Cursed arrows…” He murmured under his breath.

“It’s amazing that you waited this long to escape, Keh-yah. I’m honestly surprised you let yourself go so much. Now, lets get you back to your cell, and get you cleaned up and rested, and then we can continue where we left off, hmm?”

Keh-yah growled, his already deep voice growing deeper, as if he had two, his deepest power speaking in tandem with his own voice.

“I’m done playing your little games, Daga.”

Keh-yah ripped the arrows out of him, throwing them at incredible speed at the Angel, who blocked them with his arms.

Keh-yah yanked the chain from under Daga’s foot, and sent them flying at the Angel, catching one of his arms and yanking it so hard it slipped out of its’ socket. The demon leaped forwards, landing on the Angel, yanking his helmet off and clawing at his face, scratching it with his claws.

He flashed his teeth, as he felt the familiar electric pulse of a taser jabbed into his ribs. He screamed, feeling the electricity build in him, rising as he spat out sparks onto Daga, which skittered over is armour.

Daga eased his body up as Keh-yah was hit with more fire from above, which only made him angrier. He yelled, as he lunged at Daga again, and the two tussled, the demon biting at his neck, hands stained with silver as the Angel spilled his blood.

Daga swung a fist at Keh-yah, sending him flying back, running after him and grabbing the demon by the throat.

Keh-yah twitched as he felt his throat close, slowly growing weaker, struggling against the large hand holding him aloft. His feet kicked out at Daga’s chest, pushing him out of the Angel’s grip, and arching gracefully through the air, landing softly on the walkway, the chains clattering heavily and immediately rushing at Daga.

The chains flew behind him, and as Keh-yah flashed past Daga, he reached out, using the chains to catch him around the throat.

Holding Daga close to his chest, Keh-yah smiled as he began walked backwards, towards a door.

The cuffs were still suppressing his powers, but he could also feel himself weakening, he had to take this chance to escape...

He didn’t notice Daga grab a cursed arrow that was wedged on the railing as they walked past.

His back hit the door, and he walked through it, into the hallway behind it, his body already weakening again. He could already feel his muscles losing strength.

“You’re getting weaker.” Daga taunted.

“I’m still more than strong enough to end you…” Keh-yah growled.

“I’m sure.” Daga retorted. “You’ll never escape, you know. This place is a maze for a reason.”

“Then you’ll help me escape, and I’ll let you go.” Keh-yah replied flatly.

Daga was silent, as they continued through the halls, alarms blaring in Keh-yahs ears. Red lights flashed, as they continued walking, Daga slowly turned the arrow, preparing to strike.

“You know, we could make a good team.” Daga countered. “If you were a bit more… cooperative, I wouldn’t have to keep doing this, and we could be quite powerful.”

Keh-yah didn’t respond.

“Fine, be like that.”

Keh-yah tightened the chain around Dana’s neck.

“Okay, okay, I get the message.”

Daga relaxed, as Keh-yah walked through hallway after hallway, before finding stairs leading upwards.

‘No, no, no…’ Daga thought, Keh-yah grinning as he sensed Daga’s annoyance.

“Look’s like it’s my lucky day after al-”

Keh-yah was cut off as Daga thrust the arrow into Keh-yah’s ribs, deep. The demon grunted, slumping forward, enough to loosen the chain and enable Daga to free himself.

The Angel shoved the demon, whirling around to see Keh-yah yank the arrow from his body, and toss it to the ground.

“I can’t let you go, Keh-yah.” Daga spoke dryly, eyeing the demon, who held his side, the blue blood leaking out of the wound.

“It doesn’t matter how far you run, I can always find you, and I will always hunt you, so give up now, tell me what I want to know, and I’ll let you go, I’ll even lift the curse, I have plenty of cures for it.”

Keh-yah bristled, barking his teeth and snarling. “Never. You trapped me in here for decades… And I will never be trapped… again…” He shuddered slightly, the last of his power was waning.

“I didn’t want it to come to this, but if you refuse to tell me the answer to immortality, I will have to end you, like I did your brethren. Perhaps I can find another way to become immortal.” Daga stepped forwards, grabbing the cursed arrow off the ground and looking at the demon.

Keh-yah set his shoulders, smirking. “Then end me.” He watched with his black eyes, as the gold grew dim, eyeing the arrow. He couldn’t escape, the cuffs were holding his power back too much, unless…

The demon focused the last of his energy into his hands, as an extremely painful, burning sensation ripped through him. As it began to built the cuffs grew red hot, and Keh-yah thrust them at Daga’s eyes, burning them.

Daga screamed, grabbing the cuffs in his gloved hands, and trying to lift them off his burning eyes, gripping them hard.

The cuffs snapped at the hinges, Keh-yah ripping his arms free and feeling a surge of energy painfully prickle through him. He took half a second to imagine a place, as isolated and far away from here as possible, a grassland he had been in a century ago at least.

The memory had taken his breath away, reminded him, that despite the horror of his existence, the world was still beautiful.

The sight was breath taking, the pink and purple sky, setting sun and gently waving grass. He didn’t even remember where it was at that moment, but it was where he could hide. He knew it wasn’t in Siberia, he knew he could hide there, that he’d be safe.

He sighed, preparing for the agony that was teleporting, as Daga ran at him.

Keh-yah couldn’t help but smirk as he felt his body almost melt, folding itself over and over, making him feel like he was about to throw up.

Then suddenly, he unfolded, and feeling more solid looked around.

The storm he had apparently entered froze him as he limped along the empty road surrounded by nothing except expansive fields of some kind of golden plant, perhaps wheat.

He had no idea which country he was in, It could be Russia, Brazil or India and he wouldn’t have a clue. After what felt like an eternity, he had reached the small town, following the main road into the centre of the settlement, glancing at the houses, all darkened.

The night was dark, moonless and the rain made it hard to see, perhaps a blessing in disguise in a way. Using the last of his strength, he felt his body morph slightly, into that of a more acceptable human appearance. Perhaps he be more likely to be assisted.

In the distance, he spotted a spire, a small, metal cross attached to the tip. The symbol sent a shiver down Keh-yah’s spine, but he didn’t seem to have any other options.

The church it was.

~~

Keh-yah went incredibly still as a final sigh escaped him. The two priests looked at his body stop breathing, Mark about to reach out for a pulse in his neck, when suddenly Keh-yah shot up, coughing and gagging, gasping for breath, as he slumped forwards.

His stomach rippled, as a thick, pus like substance came up from his throat, spilling into his lap. It smelled like rotting flesh.

The demon convulsed, shuddering as he threw up the yellowish, slightly green slime, which spilled out of his mouth like a waterfall.

The two priests stepped back, eyes wide in horror, as Keh-yah crawled onto his hands and knees, spewing up the slime, which was starting to have thick, slimy, black tendrils that curled through it.

With a final shudder, Keh-yah coughed up a large, black, gelatinous ball, that slopped into the copious amounts of puke like a weird jellyfish.

Wiping his mouth, Keh-yah sighed in relief, leaning back and coughing slightly, thankful to be able to breathe. Something inside him had shifted, and he felt his side, where the infection was, looking down at the purple skin. The inflammation around the wound was already going down…

His vision blurred, a ringing in his ears growing loud as his eyes rolled back, Mark rushing forwards and catching Keh-yah as he began to tilt sideways, passing out in his arms.

The two priests looked at each other, carrying the demon up the stairs, and to the couch, whilst they began to mop up the mess Keh-yah had left for them.

When they were finished, Mark checked the demon’s temperature, which was going down already, and his bruises and cuts, broken ribs and burns all seemed to be healing a lot faster…

Keh-yah was finally out of the woods, or so he hoped.

As he tucked the demon in, he whispered a little prayer, hoping that God would at least take some mercy on this demon… It was the least he could do.

~next~

~masterlist~

✨taglist✨

@i-eat-worlds

@emcscared-whumps

[eirenical]

OK, so I missed WiP Wednesday AGAIN, but I'm getting closer? From earlier in the fic this time, set after Monk Wuliao brings Li Xiangyi and Di Feisheng back to Pudu Temple to do what he can to heal Li Xiangyi from the Bicha Poison...

[Other snippets posted, not necessarily in order.]

*

Di Feisheng moved to the other side of the pallet, taking Li Xiangyi's hand in his, pressing his fingers against his wrist.  It was exactly as the monk had said.  The flow of qi was slow, weak, already stagnating, no longer the swift coursing river to Beifang Baiyang's storm, now barely a trickle.  He could force his own neili into Li Xiangyi's body, could send it surging through that system and wake it to his own rhythm, but in Li Xiangyi's fragile state, that would surely cause more harm than good.  The monk was right.  The strength that could save Li Xiangyi had to come from Li Xiangyi himself.  He looked up, nodding once in the monk's direction.  "Do your work, monk.  I'll make sure that it takes."

The healing that followed was one of the more gruesome experiences that Di Feisheng had ever had the misfortune to witness, and he had been raised in the Di Fortress where children as young as five were slaughtered every day.  The poison had to be fought back not once, but again and again and again, drawn away from organ systems vital to the body and into places where it would do less lethal damage.  But with each new place the poison was sequestered away, Li Xiangyi's body weakened, meridian after meridian going dark and unresponsive, that powerful neili draining away until there was barely any left.

Li Xiangyi's heart faltered twice, stopped entirely a third time, and only the monk's shouted instructions and a surge of Beifang Baiyang at the right moment kept it beating.  Li Xiangyi was sitting upright by the end only by the grace of Di Feisheng sitting in front of him, arms entwined with his to support his body as the monk and his needles worked their will.  As last night, for one brief moment only, Li Xiangyi's eyes slid open, lucid amidst the torture of this healing, to lock with Di Feisheng's, the message in them clear as a shout to one who understood him so well.

Let me go.

No.  That was the one thing that Di Feisheng could not do.  Where there was life, there was hope, and Di Feisheng would not give up his unless there was no other choice remaining.

Li Xiangyi's eyes slid closed again, his entire body jerking between Di Feisheng and Monk Wuliao, an anguished cry escaping his lips just before he coughed up what seemed a river of dark, thickened blood.  Di Feisheng pulled him close, supporting a body that now shook with violent tremors as Monk Wuliao fought to tame the last vestiges of the poison in Li Xiangyi's system.  When it was over, and all was silent, Di Feisheng dared to draw back, to look once more on that pale countenance.  In quiet shock, he breathed out: "…what have we done?"

From behind Li Xiangyi, the monk's exhausted voice explained, "Such a healing is not without cost, Di-mengzhu."

Di Feisheng shifted his grip, pulling Li Xiangyi's limp body into his lap and tipping his head onto his shoulder.  In the scant few hours since they had begun, most of the muscle mass Li Xiangyi's frame had carried was gone, eaten away by the poison as it was sequestered away in his system—not eliminated, nor truly detoxified, the monk had been clear that that wasn't possible with the skills he had—leaving behind little but skin and bones.  The high cheekbones remained, but the full cheeks were gone, leaving behind a gaunt expression in a deeply changed face.  And worst of all, that formidable neili, that deep, surging river that was Yangzhouman, was all but gone.  Only the smallest stream remained behind, circulating through Li Xiangyi's heart meridian, protecting the only ground they had managed to save.

He pressed his face into Li Xiangyi's chest, despair welling up despite his best efforts to focus on what they had managed to save.  Li Xiangyi was alive.  But how long could he remain so in such a state?  What kind of life could he live?  And what damage had been done in the hours he had been out of Di Feisheng's sight to leave him believing that this broken, diminished existence was the only life he deserved?

Question after question after question.  And Di Feisheng would get no answers until Li Xiangyi awoke.  He listened intently as the monk detailed what he should do for Li Xiangyi over the next few critical hours, how he could help, and more importantly, what might cause harm if he was too overzealous.  When all was said and done, he laid Li Xiangyi down on the pallet, drawing the covers over his still form, and curled around  him, protecting him in the only way he could.

[adorawritesalot]

yo. hi. mh boys w a streamer s/o?:)

hello everyone, excuse my sudden disappearance:( i have really important exams coming up and i barely have time for myself between studying!! promise i'll get better at writing regularly afterwards🙏

anyway, thank you for the submission! sorry i didn't send you the preview, it's your ask anyway:) love u tomi!!!!!

Alex:

To be honest, he seems like a streamer guy. What do you think he was doing for almost a year before he called Jay again? Streamed Minecraft or something (imagine it was possible back then for me, please).

Anyway, he would be so supportive. He is your #1 fan (but wouldn't say it outloud).

"Hey Alex, I've been thinking about buying this Stream De-" "TAKE MY MONEY"

Would kill anyone who says it's not a real job, because he sees the work you put into it, the tears from receiving hate, and the inevitable happiness it brings you.

If you asked him to join you on stream one day, he would almost piss himself.

"ME??? On stream??? With my FAVOURITE streamer??? YES!" In a teasing voice, but he is secretly overly excited.

Jay:

He is very happy for you when you start becoming famous, because he sees how happy it makes YOU. He loves seeing your dreams come true in front of his eyes.

He would get you the best camera the world has to offer. Is there not a good enough one for your pretty face? Fuck it, he makes it.

A sweetheart when it comes to making you feel better after a hate raid. Draws you a bath, orders your favourite food (he cannot cook for the life of him), cuddles you in bed.

If you asked him to do a stream with you one day, he would gladly agree. He would be nervous at first, but then he would just goof around and you both would have a great time.

Brian:

He would like to just watch your streams while he works on his line delivery or something. Your voice soothes him, and that is exactly what he needs.

Would beg you to do one of those "I gave my viewers 500$ to spend on Amazon" streams. Then you reminded him that you would actually have to have those 500$. That shut him up pretty quickly.

Sometimes you think your chat likes him more than you. When he occasionally comes into your streaming room in the middle of a stream with food, your chat starts spamming his name and various versions of greetings.

One "Hey chat!" and a grin later, he is now playing with you next to him. Be ready for more streams with him! He really enjoyed it and chat did too.

Tim:

Tim wouldn't really get why you are willingly putting your face (or just yourself as a person) out on the internet. Still, he would be very supportive. He always is.

Would sit with you in your streaming room. He loves your voice.

Reminds you that you don't have to do this job if it mentally drains you after every hate raid. He is very protective of you, and he wouldn't want to lose you to a bunch of jerks on the internet.

You talk about him on stream a lot, so chat is, of course, clamouring for a boyfriend stream.

He eventually agrees, but he doesn't yet know what he's gotten himself into.

It's a cooking stream. And you basically just do what he is telling you to do while looking at eachother cutely. Beware of the edits!

[smollwriting]

Handful for my sire

Pt 1 | pt 2

{Requested}

Tags:

Cg!Lestat Reg!Reader

Lestat being Lestat, mentions of death, vampiric violence, mentions of stalking

The day Lestat found the little human was the day his world was opened up to a momentous amount of entertainment.

Not usually one for the long game, Lestat made his presence known in the humans little villa, but the boy he had taken such a keen interest in quickly brushed it off as a spook or perhaps one of the many kittens that dwelled within the walls of his home.

Over the course of time that the blonde vampire monitored the house and human inhabitant, his drive for fresh blood was overtaken by his curiosity of the unknown. This little human was a curious one, so to say. He had a curious way of dealing with the days terror, and this way of dealing with the hardships sparked something in the vampire. A need to create new life, one that this fragile little thing would be perfect for.

"Good evening Mon Chérie"

His soft chuckle sounded out through the bed chamber, followed by a gasp and clatter of whatever the frail thing held in his hands.

"Who are you and how did you get in here good sir?"

The vampire only smirked as he continued to circle his prey

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave!" The human shouted, mustering up courage that he didn't have.

"Afraid? Oh be not afraid of me little one! You should be overjoyed by my presence! I come to you with a gift, a choice should we say?" He chimed, stopping beside the little human.

"A choice?" A soft and meek voice questioned.

"Yes Mon chérie, a choice I never had. A choice I'm here to offer you. I've watched you for some time, and I must say you have a certain skill that I think is perfect for my way of life."

"And what is your way of life...?!"

Before the human boy could finish his question Lestat had already pounced and sunk his fangs deep into the main artery, draining life force till the small thing in his arms barely clung to life.

"I think that should answer the question now shouldn't it my dear? I'm sure you have even more questions like who? why are you doing this? why me? But ah you cannot ask can you?" He paused to take a gander into the boys eyes, watching as they were overcome with fear and dread.

"Fret not my little human friend, I will answer all your questions! 1: I am the vampire Lestat, 2: I am the vampire Lestat, 3: Your mind fascinates me. You are a mostly fully grown human yet you somehow hold the ability to revert back to the state of a child, it's truely fascinating I must say. But we really are drawing this out far to long my little thing, you must make a choice before there is no choice left to make, join me and see things which you have never seen before, or give up. Sleep eternally. Lose out on wonders and a million lives?"

The little thing reached his hand out, clearly trying to grasp and injure the vampire towering above him. To this Lestat could only laugh. How wonderful, even in the face of death his little pet continued to fight!

Seemingly satisfied with that answer he lulled the boy into a sleep, whispering promises that he would take care of everything, take care of 𝒉𝒊𝒎.

[crossover-enthusiast]

I have this super long HC I’m probably gonna draw out someday. Sorry for the long as in advance, also there is character analysis that focuses mainly on Bob cause I have brainrot

I have this HC that Eyes drains sanity depending on how much mental baggage/trauma you have and how much time you spend in his vicinity. It is an eldritch horror, after all! People go to their knees, or just freeze in place when they see him; it’s like being in his mere presence breaks their mind a bit…

Pump stayed the same for the most part, minus some new odd characteristics (pyromania, being one) since while he did have absent parents growing up he is still mentally fine, and only stayed with Eyes for a short while. Though he definitely has the mark of being in Eyes’ presence (Glowing cyan eyes)

Meanwhile, for comparison, I’d imagine Bob had gone through intense childhood trauma (as do many serial killers) as a factor towards becoming a cultist/serial killer, so he likely was already at least somewhat broken mentally when he met Eyes. The photos (some of which seem ripped open) on the wall speak to me of a man who is barely holding it together, whether it be because of his (hypothetical) past or simply stress from overworking himself at Boys & Grills.

Hell, his house is in ruins. While it could be that it just became this way from not having gone back to his house in a long time, I think it has actually always been this way. There’s discarded body parts on the floor, so it seems to me Bob wasn’t the clean type. That begs the question; has it been like this before he became a killer, too?

In the photo with Child!Lila, he doesn’t actually look happy to me. He seems like he’s forcing a smile rather than being actually happy, and the bags under his eyes indicate he’s secretly not having a good time. I think maybe he was trying to keep a sense of forced positivity in a harsh time in his life; even as a serial killer you barely see him frown, or get angry. Granted, he seems genuinely happier, but isn’t it odd he barely expresses any other emotion?

Granted I’m biased, I could be looking too deep into it (he’s one of my favs)

We also can infer that Bob had seen Eyes as well, since he also has Cyan eyes, something that we only see Pump have (and the hatzgang; both Pump and Hatzgang get this ‘marking’ from looking into The Eyes Of The Universe. As such, it is likely Bob had been in Eyes’ presence at some point, since as far as we know, the only way to get cyan eyes is by looking at Eyes.)

If simply being in Eyes’ presence can truly break mortal minds in universe, that begs the question of how long Bob stayed there…

Ohhh this is REALLY interesting actually- now that I'm thinking about it I'm surprised I never really thought about the whole "mind break" of Eyes' nature as an eldritch being, lotta fun stuff with that

Also Pump's pyromania stemming from him staring at Eyes is a neat take! I always thought that was something he just had, but it being from Eyes, ah... *glances at Ignacio* yeah that tracks.

And actual Bob analysis and speculation yesssss - this is a fantastic take. God, that just makes me think the cult kidnapped him and locked him into Eyes' room until he snapped...

[siren-serenity]

indefinite hiatus

hey everyone....I just wanted to state it loud and clear now that I'm currently taking a long break from Tumblr for a couple of reasons. some of these reasons may even seem familiar as you've probably seen other fanfic authors stating the same issue again and again.

lack of interactions

remember when I had my 'battle of the restaurant' event? when it came to requesting, everyone was sooooo eager to ask for stories to be written. but when I published them? barely any interactions. no likes, no reposts, barely a comment of 'thank you'. it was as if I was a robot, publishing pieces over and over again for nothing. all the hard work I poured into my event: gone.

this wasn't the first time though. every time I publish something, the like-to-reblog ratio is pathetic. no one wants to comment anything sweet or even just a silly ramble. where is the interactions? where is the liveliness that Tumblr is famous for?

2. burn out from irl

sometimes, I feel like I switch fandoms too quick and too fast for me to publish some works from previous fandoms. I started out as a twst author but now I'm into one piece and haikyuu and so many other fandoms that I feel like I have to write for them-

and then when I try to enjoy some anime, I realize that I'm barely feeding any readers with any content and then I'm feeling so much writers' block from the pressure I put onto myself. I understand that this is no one's fault, perhaps from my own perfectionist issues but it's still a problem I face day after day.

3. a new stage of life

nowadays, I'm in a position where I have more and more work poured onto me, leaving me barely anytime to write any content for my readers. it's honestly hurting me too, whenever I do my own IRL work and then start worrying about what everyone thinks about my lack of interaction in comparison to everyone else. I'm feeling more and more drained from this constant cycle of worry and manic stress

so, other than the lack of interaction, it's not really anyone's fault. please don't start getting depressed thinking you've utterly destroyed me into a million pieces (I promise I'm fine, I'm just working on myself right now). but please reflect on my works and how you interact with other fanfic authors on this website. Tumblr is a beautiful place with some of the most beautiful work I've ever seen and some of the most thoughtful pieces of writing and art I've been blessed with. don't let something like lack of engagement ruin what Tumblr is. please

a small thank you to all my mutuals who've kept me company for the past few months, year even.

@cloudcountry: you are my inspiration. my advisor whenever I'm lost, my biggest hype-man whenever I published something for 'battle of the restaurants' or just simple pieces of writing for the famous auburn x azul ashengrotto (priest siren for the win!!), and one of my earliest friends on Tumblr. thank you for making my time here so special and memorable, I'll keep a small place for you in my heart, always. please read her work and be nice to auburn!! she's a rare gem in Tumblr, super talented and super kind to everyone <3

@officialdaydreamer0: one of the best artists and horror writers I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. reading Irene's lore have never made me feel so much pity for an OC before yet I'm memorized by her intricate vocabulary when describing the horror setting. but in sharp comparison, her art and doodles are nothing but extraordinary. I wish I had Irene's ability to draw anatomy and clothing (!!!) as well as she does. but as a friend, thank you for being there for me. you were a constant anchor here in Tumblr so thank you for keeping me grounded. love you Irene!!

@hisui-dreamer: rinna!! she's honestly super cute and bubbly, her love for jade and her commitment into making her eel of jade was so adorable to see on every new post. not to mention her writing!! super beautiful and gorgeous pieces of work that I just want to gobble up everytime it appears on my dash. please continue enjoying her test work and whatever new fandom she finds in the future! rinna, thank you for being one of my best friends here in Tumblr, your sweet personality will always be remembered.

my first friend, @pastelclovds: thank you for being one of the best, if not (in my humble opinion), the best Dom reader blogs ive ever had the pleasure to find in Tumblr. as a Dom reader blog myself, your works are truly works of art because of how sinfully delightful each and every work is. although I may not be in the same fandom as you sometimes, the way you write the character's reactions are so perfect!! the imagery is so carefully crafted that I feel like watching rather than reading (in a completely good way!! if that makes sense??) please continue writing, we need more Dom reader blogs on Tumblr for starved people aka me. thank you for being there for me always, ame!! kisses and hugs to you, MUAH

to all my other mutuals, @ceruleancattail, @v-anrouge @merotwst (still waiting for my art hehe), @siphoklansan, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @savanaclaw1996, don't think I didn't forget you all!! I'm just feeling a bit drained rn to continue dedicating small paragraphs to each and every one of you (because you deserve the WORLD). thank you for sticking with my weird ass and being some of the best friends, if not, platonic soulmates on Tumblr ever. your works, whether art or writing, has always left me breathless in awe. keep shining, keep being who you are, and don't let criticism knock you down!! stupid anons who never have the balls to save things without the anonymous features!! I will fight them for you, give me a text!!! but love you all and thank you all so so much for everything,

to all my followers!! thank you for supporting me from when I first began (with cringe worthy smut works to fluff fics from one piece). idk how did you like my smut works from the beginning, it makes me cry when I reread them lmao. but all 700+ (WHEN DID I GO FROM 500 TO 700???) of you are gorgeous human beings that deserve to exist as your beautiful selves. please enjoy some of my moots works as well <3. but your support, from that one anon who sent me a paragraph on how beautiful my Jamil fanfic for mero's summer competition (whoever you are, YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING AND MORE!! IT MADE YOU CRY BRO I'M SO SAD I CAN'T FIND IT NOW) to some random comment about how sweet ace is (bc he honestly is), has made my day even better.

I'll still be here on Tumblr, but probably just lurking. I think I'm just too drained to join convos or be here 24/7 but I'll keep reposting pro-palestine posts and being here if someone sends me an inbox or a message!! thank you all for understanding <3.

one day I'll come back. I swear I will.

I'm going to blow you out of the water with my new writing skills (LIES I'M NOT GONNA GET THAT MUCH BETTER LMAO)!!! :)))

xoxo, siren-serenity

[jeza-jezaro]

[Fic] Sink Your Teeth (One-shot)

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Rating: PG-15

Relationships: England/Spain (Hetalia)

Additional Tags: vampire!Spain, magician!England, blood drinking

Summary: There is only one way to feed a vampire and Arthur wouldn't mind giving every last drop of himself.

A/N: Everyone's been posting some amazing stories for hetaberia week and I got inspired to write a little thing. Thank you ❤

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57215911

---

Arthur closed his eyes on the inhale.

Cold, damp air rushed into his lungs and power crackled along his skin, ancient and blood bathed. Exactly what he needed. Death and reverence towards the stars had saturated the old mountain tops and left their imprint on the magic that flowed through them.

His fingers brushed against soft locks of hair, and he let the power seep out of him and into Antonio who’d fallen asleep on his lap. It was the least Arthur could do after draining his companion for everything he had.

“Feels good.” Antonio murmured into Arthur’s stomach.

Arthur opened his eyes and stared at the icy darkness all around them. They were huddled in a cave, their only comfort the fire he had managed to conjure. That and the warm body of the horse that had carried them here. The animal neighed in response and Arthur felt his frozen lips trying to stretch into a smile.

“You’re awake.” He said and a small echo accompanied his words.

“Can’t sleep.” Antonio replied. “Starving.”

Arthur winced and drew more magic from the world around them. It zapped through his fingertips and into icy cold skin. “This should take the edge off.”

A soft snort came as a reply. “Mmm, delicious.”

“Don’t get sarcastic on me.” Arthur returned with a small jab.

Two pools of pure black looked up at him and Arthur inhaled. The white in Antonio’s eyes was barely visible, consumed by hunger. There was only one way to satiate a vampire, and they were very short on options.

“Must be the company I keep.” Antonio smiled, fangs too long for comfort.

Arthur felt his lips make another weak attempt at a smile. He closed his eyes and threw his magic out, reaching out into the world. His senses travelled outside of the cave and into the blinding day. He was met with deep snow, icy wind and little else. There was magic flowing through this world, and he could tap into it. He could draw on it and use it as his own. Every little thing had its own unique signature and right now, they were surrounded by the uncaring mountains and ancient frozen forests. There was no life up here, nothing they could catch for Antonio to feed on.

But he already knew that. They’d been trekking the mountain for long enough to know that nothing lived here.

“There’s nothing.” Antonio stated simply, already familiar with aspects of his magic.

“I’m sorry.” Arthur said.

“It’s not your fault.”

“If it weren’t for me—”

“I’d be dead.” Antonio interrupted, sitting up. “Not today, and not tomorrow, but once the Queen was tired of me. I’d be dead, and I own you my life.”

Heat crept through Arthur’s body as the vampire took his hand. Cold, dry, lips pressed a kiss into his skin, and he should have remained unaffected. It was a simple gesture of gratitude. Nothing more. Arthur had orchestrated their escape and dragged Antonio along with him, even when the vampire was half dead with magic loss. It was simple gratitude.

Only his breath shuddered when Antonio turned his hand, palm up.

“My life in your hands, my prince.” The vampire said, pressing another kiss into his skin.

Arthur shuddered. The memory of those full lips being warm entirely too vivid in his mind. He’d slipped, despite knowing better, but he couldn’t let his companion suffer. He might had been the prince of the Kingdom of Shadows once, but that didn’t make him heartless.

“And mine in yours.” Arthur whispered in invitation.

The tip of Antonio’s tongue slid up his skin and for a moment Arthur forgot how to breath. It had hurt the first time the vampire’s fangs had sank into him. Now his stomach clenched in anticipation as kisses were peppered along his wrist. There was no need for Antonio to prepare him anymore. His pulse sped up at the very thought, blood rushing through his body.

He’d fallen under the vampire’s spell, completely hooked. He should have never allowed this to happen, but here he was, practically squirming.

Fangs sunk into his flesh and Arthur whimpered. There was no pain anymore, just two points of heat, shooting venom straight into his blood. Athur’s heart pumped faster, spreading the poison through his body. Warmth settled at the pit of his stomach, eating at his self-control.

He gasped, forgetting everything for a moment. He found himself being reduced to the patch of skin where Antonio’s mouth was working against his skin. He was barely aware of his magic, seeping away from him and into a hungry mouth. Arthur couldn’t care less. Right this instance Antonio could have all of him and he’d gladly give every last drop.

So, when the vampire pulled away slowly, tongue gliding against his torn skin Arthur whimpered in protest. He needed Antonio’s mouth on him, hot and hungry.

“Your trust is a treasure.” Antonio said, pulling him back to his senses.

Arthur could only whimper is response as his sensitive skin was littered with soft kisses and slow licks. He used to protest, but he’d come to covet every touch of Antonio’s mouth.

“That should do it.” The vampire said and looked up.

Arthur watched, suddenly transfixed. It didn’t matter how many times he’d seen this. He could never tire of seeing blood rush into Antonio’s skin, warming him up and tucking away his monstrous nature. It was almost as breathtaking as watching the way the black receded from Antonio’s eyes, leaving behind rich deep green.   

“Beautiful.” Arthur whispered and the vampire laughed. A twinkling sound that had no place coming out of the mouth of a monster.

“It’s your handiwork, my prince.” Antonio said, lifting Arthur’s hand and placing another kiss at his wrist.

Arthur’s skin prickled with heat, and he pulled away. “Stop calling me that.” He said to change the topic. He didn’t need them digging into whatever this thing was between them. Because it was nothing, Arthur told himself. Antonio was hungry and Arthur was reacting to the venom. That’s all there was to it. A trick of biology.

“But you are my prince.” Antonio said, tilting his head.

Arthur got up. They were too close for comfort. “I’m a fugitive. Before that a pawn and a prisoner. I was never truly the Prince of Darkness or the King of Light.”

“The Queen of Light certainly wouldn’t see it like that.” Antonio said, allowing him the change of topic.

“Maybe she shouldn’t have kept me locked in a tower for fourteen years.” Arthur snapped. “I am not going back.”

“Back home then?” Antonio suggested.

Arthur shook his head. “They can go to hell. My parents are the ones who married me off and never bothered after.”

“Oh?” Antonio tilted his head. “We’re starting a war then?”

That almost gave Arthur pause. Almost. The two kingdoms would most definitely go to war over him. One to save face and one on the defence. Which was ironic considering the whole point of the marriage had been to avoid another war.

“I’m going to live my life. The rest of the world is not my fucking problem.” Arthur declared. All he got in response was a hum.

Arthur looked back at Antonio. His companion had scooted backwards, leaning against the horse. Those green eyes had gone dark again, but the hunger in them was of an entirely different kind. It completely derailed Arthur’s thoughts.

“What?” He asked, suddenly on edge.

“Does that mean you’ll finally go after what you want, my prince?” Antonio asked, head tilting to the side, dark eyes inviting.

That familiar heat stirred inside Arthur. This had been a bad idea from the very moment he had laid eyes on the vampire. He should have used him and left him to die. That would have been the smart thing to do. Vampires were dangerous creatures. Sirens of the night, their venom the sweetest ambrosia there was.

Arthur was probably trading one prison for another, but his legs carried him forward anyway. He found himself straddling the vampire, fingers burying in soft brown locks.

Their lips pressed together, and Antonio’s mouth opened hot and hungry for him. With a shiver Arthur realised he’d made his decision a long time ago. It was a bloody stupid one, but he’d made it, and he wasn’t going back on it.

He pressed closer against Antonio and the moan he received was all the encouragement he needed.

[trevelyawn]

WIP WEDNESDAY | kinda smutty

gwen overheard cullen speaking with hawke.

line div cred.

“You said it yourself. Mages and Templars cannot be friends,” scoffed Gwendolyn.

“I know what I said, but you…” he trailed off, unable to find the right words.

“I’m different?” she finished for him and a dry laugh escaped her downturned lips. Cullen winced. “I am no different. You tell yourself that I am so you don’t have to face the truth,” she scoffed and shook her head, disappointment written over fine features. She turned on her heel and stalked off.

Thankfully, the Gallows were fairly empty, save for a price-gouging merchant and gossiping recruits. The Captain wasn’t content to leave it at that and after a moment of watching her walk away, he convinced his feet to move. Bulky armour clanked as he hurried to catch up and when he closed the distance, he took hold of her wrist, forcing her to stop.

“The truth?” Cullen goaded.

“That mages are just like you,” she said, turning on her heel to confront him. She pulled away from his touch as though it burned. Her once pale face was now red with fury. Blue eyes glistened with tears that threatened to spill and her bottom lip quivered. Cullen made a start to defend himself but she silenced any of his protests with a raised hand. “We are no different! We bleed the same.”

That was preposterous. “We are not the same. You are…” he hesitated, looking the mage up and down, “dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous?” Gwendolyn scoffed. She spread her arms wide and let out a brittle laugh. Thin lips curled into a wry smile even as tears spilled onto her flushed cheeks. “You could draw your sword and cut me down in the blink of an eye.”

Cullen took in a shaking breath and his hand went to the hilt of his sword, hovering over cold leather. He had used it before, had drawn blood and watched the life drain from the unlucky soul to have met his metal, but the very thought of drawing steel against Gwendolyn send a cold chill down his spine. He stumbled back, turning slightly so his sword was hidden from her sight. She scoffed and her arms dropped.

“I would never…” he swallowed hard, steeling himself before he looked up to meet her gaze, “harm you.”

“Because I’m different,” she mocked.

She drew nearer and invaded his space to shove against his armour. Cullen didn’t move, feet firmly planted. He knew he should move her back, create some distance between them but he didn’t. His arms stayed by his side and he balled his hands into fists. Short nails dug into rough skin, leaving crescent marks in his desperation to keep his wits about himself, to stop himself from reaching out and taking the mage into his arms. Warm breath tickled his throat as she looked up at him open-mouthed, breath coming hard and fast. Ice blue eyes were narrowed and bloodshot, and she was the picture of barely keeping it together.

This had been a long-time coming.

Cullen didn’t know who moved first as they crashed into each other. He reached out for her, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her flush against him. He was desperate for the warmth of her skin against his cold hands but he would have to make do. Calloused fingers pressed into her robe, grasping for purchase on her curves. She surged onto her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded slender fingers through his hair, pulling at the short hairs and forcing a pleasured hiss from his lips. Their mouths crashed together in a frantic kiss, the force of it pushed her back against the wall and pressed her tight against Cullen’s chest. He placed a hand on the stone to keep himself from collapsing into her as the kiss deepened. Gwen pulled back, panting warm and fast against Cullen. He pushed his knee between her thighs, grinding up as he trailed lazy kisses down her chin, her throat, her neck. Soft moans escaped Gwen’s swollen lips when Cullen focused his attentions on the delicate skin below her ear, licking and nipping, and each lilting gasp sent a shiver through the Templar, arousal pooling low in his abdomen. Gwen broke away first.

“You hate me,” she rasped, breath hitching as Cullen tugged at her earlobe with his teeth.

“I don’t.” Warm breath tickled her ear and a full-body shiver ran through the mage. Cullen could feel the heavy weight of her chest even through his armour and he longed to touch her bare skin, to feel her full breasts in his palms, to circle peaked nipples with his tongue.

“You wish you could,” she countered but the pitch of her voice and heady breaths betrayed her attempt at being difficult.

Cullen groaned deep in his throat and rested their foreheads together. He ground his hips forward, hoping she could feel the hard outline of his cock through the many layers between them. His voice was low when he whispered against Gwen’s parted lips, “I could never hate you.”