#THEY COULD BE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS

[jaylver]

AGAINST THE TIDES — P.SH

SYNOPSIS: Growing up, you’ve only had one best friend that you would call your family. Park Sunghoon. He was your partner in crime, your best friend, your ride or die, he was everything. You and him did almost anything and everything together, practically attached to the hip, and that included swimming too. As years passed, you and him both turned out to be outstanding swimmers that had a promising career ahead. All was well until one unforgettable day that broke your lifelong friendship, turning it into anger and hatred instead. With the Olympics coming up, you had unexpected news about Sunghoon joining your team. Worst of all, you had to work alongside him for the mixed medley relay event. One dream, one goal, a childhood wish you and him shared, will that be successfully achieved when you and him could barely bear standing next to each other?

PAIRINGS: pro-swimmer!sunghoon x pro-swimmer!afab!reader

GENRE: childhood friends to enemies to lovers, sports au, angst, romance, slow burn, forced proximity

WARNING(S): mentions of drinking/alcohol, profanities, (lots of) miscommunication

WC: 28k

PLAYLIST: suburban legends by taylor swift, heartburn by wafia

AUTHOR'S NOTE: after 4 months of not posting, i've vomited out 28k for y'all! i hope you guys will like this one and do forgive me for my lack of swimming knowledge helpp, i tried with my years of swimming! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver 2024 all rights reserved

Was it possible to wake up from a dream that happened to be your reality?

Standing in the national aquatics training centre, the swimming pool where you've practically resided was glistening under the bright lights. Contrary to them, you were anything but bright, a sudden dread befalling your expressions.

Coming into your first day of the three months long and last training before the Olympics, you were anticipating for it to be a peaceful, fun day that would end with your muscles aching. However, the moment you stepped onto the training ground, being the first to reach, your coach had already decided to break a rather dreadful news. 

"Come on, Y/N, it's nothing too bad," Jeon Jungkook, your young coach that retired early from competing and also the reason for your countless success, was trying his best to reassure you. It wasn't working.

"Not 'too bad'? Being in the same national team with him is already a sight for sore eyes to me. Now you're telling me I have to train with him under you? Together?" 

Your coach was rubbing the side of his head, the early morning and the shrillness of your voice wasn't a favourable pairing to him. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but if it wasn't for Yeonjun's sudden injury, he wouldn't have to be replaced for the mixed relay," 

"Well, if only he didn't get drunk and fell off his bike," you muttered under your breath, never once taking account that this would be the consequences you were suffering from his actions. That was until this moment. 

There came a sigh coming from Jungkook, his arms were crossed and he was resting his weight on one leg. "I know you and him don't get along, but I've discussed this with Coach Kim and we thought that if I replaced Yeonjun with him, it's the best decision. Plus, both of you are Olympic medallists, having two star swimmers in a team isn't all that bad,"

You were silent, stubbornly keeping quiet at the fact that you knew he was right. Of course he was, he's been your coach for years, he has his ways of choosing his words correctly when it comes to you. He knew of your drive to win, the hunger to win gold and nothing else. With a cold, hard fact that Jungkook had slapped onto your face, you had no choice but to consider and forcefully accept.

"You two have history together. Years of history. There's chemistry whether or not you like it. Period," Jungkook waved his arms around, smiling at you as if trying his best to make you feel better. "There's one thing you can't deny. Winning. When there's winners, you mix them together, then what do you get? Medals,

"So, I'm begging you, Y/N. Put up with Park Sunghoon for a few months, another few rounds at the Olympics, then we're done, he'll be back at Coach Kim. Alright?"

"But—"

"End of discussion. Go change up, I'm sure the others will be here soon, including Sunghoon, so you better not throw a tantrum," he pointed his finger at you, wagging it at you accusingly to which you responded with a discreet eye roll.

"Yes, coach."

Even in the locker, you found yourself mulling about at the thought of training with Park Sunghoon again. That name itself has sent you waves of chills countless times.

Park Sunghoon was your childhood friend. Having been your neighbour since birth, your mothers were naturally the reason why you were even friends in the first place. You were barely five when your mother placed you in the local swim club for training, then not long after, Sunghoon joined too.

Your lives mainly revolved around two things. Swimming and each other. Basically, you and him were inseparable. You shared the same coach as him even after entering your teen years. Whether it was the swim club or the youth national team, there was nothing anyone could do to separate you and him in terms of swimming or every aspect in general. Hell, you and him both specialised in the same stroke as well, breaking out into the scene to be the best prospects, earning a reputation for yourselves swiftly. Your friendship itself was known by all too. 'Star swimmers', that was what people called you and Sunghoon.

That was until a particular Wednesday in 2018 that made your nearly sixteen years of friendship with him crumble into ashes. 

"I'm switching coaches. I'm switching clubs." 

You remembered it clearly. It was just after nine o'clock at night when you were done showering, ready to leave and head home with Sunghoon. Yet, his words echoed in the silence of the training centre then.

"What?"

"I just don't think it's working out,"

"Sunghoon—" you never once called his full name unless it was a serious situation, "the Youth Olympic games is literally in a week. What are you even saying?"

"I don't want to lose anymore, Y/N. Do you know it feels like working my body till the point of breaking just for me to get beaten by someone better. I need to get better," his composure was breaking, you could tell, the clenched fists by his side was turning white. 

Your eyes widened at the tone of his voice, but your frown only deepened at his words, nothing was making sense to you. "You're jeopardising the team!"

"I've discussed this with the coaches, I've got permission from the higher ups," 

"You're … you're selfish," you said slowly, unable to speak any longer at the shock of his sudden news. "You never bothered to discuss this with me either,"

"I don't need to,"

"So, you're disregarding our friendship altogether? We promised to tell each other everything!"

"Oh, grow up, Y/N. We were six when we said that, this is different. We're different now,"

In that split second was when a hard realisation hit you. He changed. It was almost as if the person that he once was had died overnight, revealing someone new that shared the same physical traits. Was it the results of the last competition you had days ago that made him turn into this? You never knew him losing would've affected him this badly. That was one thing about Sunghoon, he was never outspoken about his feelings and thoughts.

"You're right. You're no longer the person I know."

That was the last time you ever had a conversation with him face-to-face. The change was drastic. One day he was walking home with you and the next he wasn't even in your life, barely acknowledging each other at competitions. It was legendary, but it was momentary. To say it has taken a toll on you was an understatement. If it wasn't for your mother's consolation, you wouldn't have shown up for training and eventually won at the Youth's game.

Six years. Six, long miserable years of ignoring each other.

The year you were called up to the senior national team was the same year that he did too. It was evident that there was tension between you and him, there was no need for a second look for someone to determine that. You knew rumours were bound to fly, it has been ever since your split with him.

You hate to admit that what he did was right too. Since the day he changed coaches and clubs, he has been improving and climbing higher. Gold was the only colour hanging around his neck at almost every competition he was in. Maybe you were the selfish one after all, secretly wishing he never left in the first place because you were scared of losing him. Well, who knew the fear in that moment turned into your instant reality? Seeing his success only made you bite back on your words of calling him selfish.

The first Olympics you attended in Tokyo was an experience to say the least. Winning two silver and one bronze, your hunger for gold only grew bigger. Everyone in the team had expected either you or Sunghoon to bring back the gold medal, but none of you did, and by then, there was an unspoken rivalry that started from the moment people placed their expectations on you and him.

Three years later in the present day, you couldn't believe he was becoming your teammate and training under the same coach again. Crazy how things could change in a blink of an eye, huh? Your main concern, however, wasn't facing Sunghoon, but whether or not he'd fit into the relay team with only three months of training and no prior experience.

"Well, if it isn't the Y/N L/N being the first to arrive as always," The sound of your teammates' heavy footsteps entered the locker room, Yujin's voice in particular echoed through it, entering your sight at once. "How have you been?"

"Great, been living and sleeping in the pool," you snickered sarcastically, patting Yujin's back in greeting. "I heard you took a long break from your club after the championships,"

"I did, and my muscles are dying to touch the water,"

"She caused a lot of ruckus at the club for that," Yunjin joined into the conversation after setting her bags down, nudging her club and national teammate. "I'm glad we're all back, three months and then Paris, isn't that a dream?"

"It definitely is. I can't wait for the Eiffel tower," Yujin smiled with a dazed look, you and Yunjin only exchanged a silent glance at one another.

"Not the gold medal?"

"That too,"

"I see where your priorities lie," 

"Whatever," she waved her hand at your response, reaching for her swimsuit. "Anyway, did you hear the news from coach?"

"I did," you wrapped your towel tighter around your body, the cold prickling at your skin now that you were in your swimsuit. 

"You don't seem very happy," Yunjin pointed out as she changed into her swimwear, it was then when you became aware of the frown on your face. "The guys are excited,"

"I'm trying to be happy," you grumbled. At this point, there was no hiding the previous history you had with him, almost everyone knew about you and him, the star athletes since teen years had suddenly stopped interacting, obviously that would catch people's eyes and turn into gossip.

"Didn't you have some … fallout with him before?" 

"You know about it?" 

"Y/N, I hate to say it but the whole nation's swimmers are probably aware of it," Yujin walked up to you and passed your goggles to you. "Word spreads fast even during the youth training camps, but I'm sure there's a reason behind your fall out with him, we won't pry,"

"I'm a little curious though," Yunjin added, throwing her towel around her shoulder, unaware of Yujin's pointed glare at her bluntness.

"It's quite petty really, I'm surprised you never heard it from any of my club teammates," you pressed your lips into a thin line, shifting your stance uneasily. "He wanted to leave the club before a big competition, I mean, I get where he's coming from, but I was hurt that he didn't tell me beforehand. I thought it was unfair, we were friends for so long. We said some hurtful things to each other, and things were never the same after," your heart unknowingly tightened at your inner thoughts about the whole fight, telling the story years after made you reflect on it with regret. 

"Do you forgive him?"

"If it meant having my best friend back, I would, but I don't know if he feels the same as I do."

Walking out of the locker room took a huge amount of courage and strength for you to not turn around running. The thought of seeing and interacting with Sunghoon pained you to a great level. Not because you hated him, but mainly the awkwardness and tension that was hard to rid. 

You saw the rest of your teammates by the pool, Anton and Juyeon were too engaged in their conversations to realise Yunjin running up to them with her arms wide open. "Boys!" She engulfed the three men in her arms, startling them and almost had them falling back into the pool. 

"Gosh, you're never going to stop doing that, aren't you?" Anton patted Yunjin's arm, smiling at his senior as she let go. 

"Never," 

The two men greeted Yujin first before turning their attention to you, straightening their spines and giving you a salute. "Y/N,"

"Hey guys, doing good?" You gave each of their shoulders a pat in greeting, receiving firm nods from them as a response. They took the chance to immediately bombard you with questions about your practices and competitions, sharing their own stories about what they were up to as well.

"Y/N, I heard someone's going to snatch your spot in the mixed relay," Anton, the backstroke swimmer and your mixed relay teammate, was referring to Sunghoon's addition to the team. Your endless worries about Sunghoon becoming your teammate had you forgetting about the thing you should actually be worrying about: your position.

"Like hell Y/N is going to give up her spot easily," Yujin came to your defence with her arms thrown around your shoulder. "Isn't that right?" She turned her head to look at you, poking your cheek with a finger.

"What I'm saying is, Y/N could potentially fill in for Yeonjun's spot too. She's also a breaststroke specialist and Sunghoon's last win in the championship was him breaking the world record for freestyle. I'm just saying maybe—just maybe—this combo would be something exciting,"

Yujin, the butterfly swimmer in the mixed relay team, frowned slightly at his argument, though debatable, she didn't seem to think the idea as fit. "The second leg is usually swam by men, it'd be a disadvantage to have a woman swim it. Based off the statistics, it'd be a shit show of a strategy,"

"I'm afraid she's right," you shrugged, heaving a deep sigh at the struggle your team was facing before training even started. "There's no way coach would do that,"

"Then is Sunghoon supposed to really swim the second leg?"

"Duh, who else? He got picked specifically, out of many other people, to replace Yeonjun, I'm sure there's a reason behind it," Yujin gave your shoulder a light squeeze. "Not to mention, he's got a reputation for being a good breaststroker too,"

"Right, he got second place in Tokyo, didn't he? Just like you did, Y/N," Anton's gaze landed on your rather sullen face, the memories of Tokyo where you found out you won the same amount of medals in the same categories as Sunghoon came flying back into your mind. 

The thought of it was laughable, how were you still telepathically connected with him from then up until this moment. It was your childhood with him to blame at the end of the day. You were the one to influence him and made him fall in love with your two favourite strokes: freestyle and breaststroke. Who knew you would land yourself in a position where you potentially had to fight him for your position? 

"Y/N will always be our freestyle master in the last leg, okay? No competitions needed. Our first training together will speak for itself," Yujin glanced at you briefly, checking up on you after your momentary silence. You gave her a smile, reaching for her hand that sat on your shoulder. 

Soon after, the distant sound of your coach's voice slowly became louder as he approached closer. He was talking to someone, the second voice obviously belonged to the person everyone was waiting for, the addition of a star swimmer into the team instantly raised your teammates' expectations and hopes. Everyone else in the room were giving each other knowing glances at the anticipation of Sunghoon's arrival—except for you. 

You were holding your breath, mentally counting down the seconds while the footsteps of your coach and the person who was once your best friend were nearing. Every one of you instinctively lined up in a row as always, awaiting Coach Jeon's arrival. 

You didn't dare to blink. Lo and behold, Park Sunghoon entered the room with your coach by his side, the strong presence of an Olympic medallist and world championship winner filled the room. It was hard to deny that his presence alone was influential. 

"Morning, everyone. As you may know, we'll be having a new addition—or replacement—to the team. Everyone please welcome Sunghoon," 

Following his words, there were enthusiastic claps with a sprinkle of shouts from the guys. Sunghoon was trying his best to keep up with the overwhelming atmosphere from his new teammates, most of which were familiar faces considering they were all from the national team, the only difference was the coaches they train under. That was until now. 

You were standing to the far left, furthest away from the center where Sunghoon was. Were you a coward for avoiding him? That was partially the truth, but all those years of ignoring one another, brushing past each other at every national and international competitions, you weren't the only one at fault. He was also a coward that claimed he was a lion. 

Jungkook patted Sunghoon's back in encouragement, giving the latter a push for him to introduce himself. "Nice to meet everyone, I'm Park Sunghoon. It's my first time training with you all, so I'm apologising in advance if there's any mistakes made on my part. I hope we'll be able to get along well and bring home some gold medals from Paris,"

The team erupted in passionate cheers and applause from Sunghoon's self-introduction. It was clear everyone shared the same goal: a gold medal at the Olympics. 

"Alright, so I think everyone already somewhat knows each other, am I correct?" Jungkook looked between Sunghoon and his group of swimmers, both of which nodded and responded with a chorus of 'yes'. "How about a fresh introduction? A friendly way to warm up to one another," 

'Friendly' was one way to put it and he was definitely directing it at you.

Juyeon, who stood on the furthest to the right, started his introduction first. "I'm Lee Juyeon, butterfly swimmer, we met at the youth championship before,"

"Right, we did, nice to see you again, man," Sunghoon and Intak shared a firm handshake before moving onto Anton. The introductions were all brief, but there were also friendly gestures exchanged. Not long after, you were the last and only one left to introduce yourself.

If you could describe the exact moment Sunghoon met your eyes for the first time in nearly six years, it would be suffocating, and it was in the worst way possible. The warmth and familiarity that was once in those brown irises happened to be gone and lost with him when he saw you. You didn't know how to react, just seeing the hostility and coldness from him that you wished wasn't real was enough to beat you down.

"I'm Y/N L/N. I hope we can win a medal together in the mixed relay," you stayed rooted to your spot stubbornly, not bothering to exchange at least a handshake with him unlike your teammates. It seemed he reciprocated your feelings.

His stoic expression never once faltered, but it was his eyes that spoke louder than words needed to. Amongst the coldness of his gaze, there was an unmistakable shock and longing that he hid well enough for you to not fully catch onto. "I hope so too."

Ignoring the weird tension that lingered around the room between you and Sunghoon, you started your usual routine off along with your teammates. Long hours and many laps of endless swimming was about to be your reality again. The worst part of all was the strength training that was yet to start. 

The excruciating nine hours of never ending swimming soon ended around the evening and your first day was finally done. Neither you nor Sunghoon crossed paths or interacted, maintaining your bliss and ignorance that would bring you peace. 

"Are you just going to ignore him until his last day?" Yunjin was drying her hair, staring at you with an accusatory gaze. 

"Yeah, I guess?" You shrugged, packing up your bag that you slung over your shoulder, flashing Yunjin an indifferent smile. 

"I don't think that's a great idea, Y/N. We still have the mixed relay to consider, there's no way you could just go radio silence on him when it's a team event," Yujin made her way into the changing room from the shower just in time to listen in on your conversation, seemingly disapproving at you and Sunghoon's behaviour towards one another. 

"What am I going to do? He doesn't even want to acknowledge me,"

"How about you try making the first move?"

"Over my dead body," you murmured, hating the fact that you and Sunghoon's past conflicts were stagnating the team, yet your ego was not ready to confront him. Nope, never. 

"You're so stubborn," Yujin grumbled, shaking her head in disapproval. "He's equally stubborn. God, I can't believe I have to put up with these hot-headed, stubborn people, give me strength, please,"

"It'll be fine. As long as I keep my distance and he keeps his distance, nothing will go wrong," you slapped Yujin on her back, earning a doubtful look from her that you responded with an earful smile. 

"I highly doubt that," Yunjin chimed in, hoisting her backpack onto her shoulder, ready to leave as well. Yujin turned to share a knowing look with her.

"Me too."

All you could do was roll your eyes, not daring to respond because you knew, too, that you couldn't fully promise that you'd stick to your words. It was impossible to predict what would happen in the next few days, let alone three months. The non-existent interactions with Sunghoon for six years couldn't prepare you for what he was like currently, and for that reason, you were scared. 

That night, alone in your bed, you couldn't take your eyes off the picture frame sitting on your dressing table. It was a picture of you and Sunghoon at the ripe age of thirteen, holding onto your gold medals with the biggest smiles right after a competition. Who would've known in a few years time since then, you wouldn't even be able to stand next to him. 

How you wished those childish smiles would make its way back to you and Sunghoon, standing next to each other with a gold medal again.

A week has passed since the day Sunghoon first started his training under your coach. 

Safe to say, you kept your distance from him and so did he. Neither of you managed to exchange a single word or a single glance that lasted more than a second. It might've been a natural occurrence for you to have some sort of 'cold war' with Sunghoon, but to the others, they felt a little awkward having to be part of it.

For the second week of training, the part that you enjoyed most became dreadful to you. The mixed relay training was inevitable with Sunghoon's presence as a first timer to the group. More practices were implemented by Coach Jeon in order for Sunghoon to adapt and grow familiar with the general rules around mixed relay medley. 

"Doing good?" Anton was the second to arrive after you, standing next to you by the pool. He had probably noticed you staring into the pool, letting your thoughts drift away.

You snapped out of your daze, blinking in surprise at him until you realise who you were talking to. "Wh–yeah, I'm fine,"

"You're not nervous for our first training together as a team, right?" He attempted to lighten the mood, bumping your shoulder with his. 

"No," you scoffed. That was a lie. You were nervous, and masking it up wasn't exactly a great way to deal with it. "It's just any other training,"

"Be honest, you were probably mad when you heard about Yeonjun's stupid accident, weren't you?" Anton took a seat on the starting block, staring up at you with a pair of big doe eyes. 

"Mad? Not exactly. Maybe annoyed? Concerned? A little bit of everything," you frowned, remembering the message sent in the group chat the week before training started. 'Can't turn up to training, fell down my bike and broke my ankle' it was unforgettable. "Why?"

"I'm just a little disappointed it's not Yeonjun swimming the second leg. He's one of the strongest breaststroke swimmers,"

"Weren't you excited about Sunghoon's arrival?"

"Well, it's a no brainer I'm excited, Sunghoon's a great swimmer, but he's not exactly Yeonjun. Thinking about how sudden everything is, the changes and having to adapt to them, I'm just worried it'll affect the team's performance,"

Your gaze softened at the younger boy's truthful confession. If you had to be completely honest, you were worried about the team's future performances as well. Having so little time to adjust and letting a replacement take up a crucial swimmer's role was bound to cause doubts. 

"We'll be fine," your voice was firm with determination. "The future's unpredictable anyway. Who knows what will be the result of this lineup?" 

"Do you know how great of a motivational speaker you are?" Anton smiled at your words, the worries that filled his eyes were blinked away. "Also, what's up with you and Sunghoon? Are you guys always like … this?" He proceeded to make some gestures with his hands.

Here it is. That topic. 

The real question should be: when were you never like this with Sunghoon?

You shrugged, directly lying to his face a second time. "It's complicated. Let's start our warm up, shall we?"

That was enough to divert Anton's attention away from the question he originally brought up, successfully dodging it until the others arrived and started their warm ups as well. Yujin, in particular, was overwhelmed with excitement to start her part of the relay, hoping to beat her own personal record.

"Were you always this excited for training?" You looked at Yujin with an eyebrow raised, watching as she stretched her limbs carefully, a cheery expression on her face. 

"I think my break made me realise how much I missed the water," she kneeled down to touch the surface of the pool water with her finger, a little habit of hers before competitions that she grew to have. 

"How's the temperature?"

She stood back up, straightened her spine, a wide grin spreading onto her lips. "Absolutely perfect."

Once the warm ups were officially concluded, Yunjin and Intak were sent to other lanes in the pool to start their individual training, whereas you and your remaining teammates were listening intently to the coach's every word.

"So, we start our first practice today. Together, as a team, a new team. Let's see what's the time recorded for each leg, improve the handoffs and perfect your individual time. Anton, you'll go first,"

Anton fixed his swim cap right after that, walking towards the starting block while the team dispersed to wait for their turn. You stood beside Yujin, Sunghoon only inches before you. It was hard concentrating on Anton and his start, barely registering the sound of the whistle blowing. He was so magnetic it was almost obnoxious.

"Hey, new guy! Got the rules down?" Yujin directed her words at Sunghoon, catching him off guard. He turned around, an impassive expression was his first response to Yujin. His eyes flickered to you for a split second, quick enough for you to barely catch onto it.

"I have," he answered shortly, seemingly frozen from Yujin putting him into a spot out of the blue. 

Before returning his focus back onto the pool ahead of him, he stole a haste glance at you for the second time. It was barely a second's worth of his eyes on you, not even an acknowledgement. You couldn't explain it. Why were you ticked off by him? 

"Sunghoon, get ready!" Coach Jeon shouted from the other side of the room, glancing between his stopwatch and the pool. Sunghoon stood on the starting block, fixing his goggles in place. "Now!"

The moment Anton's fingers grazed the pool's wall, Sunghoon dived into the pool perfectly, all eyes were fixed on him now. The swimmer that created history, broken records, set a standard for new generations of swimmers, was proving why he was labelled a national treasure.

He was quick. How was that even possible? Breaststroke was one of the slowest strokes in swimming and yet he made it seem as though it was the easiest to swim. Yujin was next, her excitement was apparent in her swim and aggression. The butterfly stroke and her perfect posture had her resembling a mermaid. 

It was your turn to stand on the starting block, preparing for the exact second Yujin finished her lap. Your heart was beating against your chest, adrenaline was suddenly coursing through your veins. The time was ticking, Yujin was coming closer, and with one touch to the wall, off you went into the pool, the cold water engulfing you whole.

The first inhale of air filled your lungs to its maximum capacity. You could feel a sense of buzzing on the tip of your fingers, the muscles of your legs were working to its limits. You felt great. 

Your flip turn was quick and perfect. Everything was going right for you. The way your legs and arms were working in sync, your breathing technique had improved, all of these being factors to your best swim yet. The stopwatch was halted once your tips touched the wall, finally getting the chance to get your head out of the water and breathe deeply.

"54 seconds!" Coach Jeon called out, a satisfactory grin plastered on his face. "Good job," he clapped his hands, throwing up a thumbs up at both you and your teammates. “Get a short rest, I’ll be with the others then we’ll resume our training together,”

A chorus of ‘yes, coach’ travelled through you and your teammates, all of you watched as he walked to the other side of the pool where the others were training, then breathed a collective sigh of relief. Yujin came forward to help you out of the pool, wrapping a towel around you while patting your back.

"Good swim,"

You smiled at her, placing your hand on her waist. "You had a good swim too,"

"What a swim, L/N!" Anton, who stood next to Sunghoon, yelled at you as you and Yujin approached. You snorted at his enthusiasm, giving him a thumbs up in response. The man to his left, however, remained impassive just as his face displayed almost to no emotions regarding your performance. Not that you needed his validation anyway. You met his eyes, his unwavering stare bore into you, it was as if everyone was awaiting for his comments. 

"You didn’t swim at your best,"

His words were as cold as his voice, piercing into your heart without a space for you to recover or register what he meant. What did he mean? There was a sudden edge to the atmosphere around the group, a thick air of tension surrounded you and him in particular. “What?” There was no need for him to repeat what he just said, but it was almost unbelievable as an alien invasion to you.

“You weren’t swimming at your best,” Sunghoon repeated firmly, his stoicness never once faltering. Your dignity, on the other hand, was withering. 

“Who are you to determine whether or not I’m swimming at my best?” You took a step forward, your footstep heavy on the ground. He stayed rooted to his spot, chin held high while your narrowing gaze pierced through his skull.

There was a pause where a momentary silence filled the air. Neither you nor the rest of your teammates dared to speak. The man before you was expressionless, it was nearly hard to read him or his thoughts, only seeing the steady rise and fall of his chest, whereas yours was in a frenzy.“I know you,”

He might as well have just shot you in the face. Those three words were as hard as bullets were, causing you to almost lose your footing and tumble over, but somehow, you managed to stand your ground. Out of the many things he could’ve said, this was the least you expected. You had wished he would’ve lied and insulted you rather than speaking the inevitable truth. Frankly, it was the same for you. 

“You know nothing about me,” you seethed out, nostrils flaring out of indignation. 

Sunghoon scoffed, turning his head to a side for a second before looking back at you, a fire lighting up in those cold eyes of his, melting into a fiery pit of rage. “You can cuss me out or insult me all you want, but the biggest insult you could ever throw at me is disregarding our past. I know you, it’s simple as that, and I can tell you’re not swimming to your fullest,”

You couldn’t form an immediate response, because you were stunned and stuck in an endless cycle of thoughts, thinking if what he said was actually true. What if … you truly weren’t swimming at your best? Were you holding back? The only thing you could bear to thank Sunghoon now was for feeding into your self doubts.

“You…you—”

“Okay, cut it out guys,” Anton came to stand between you and Sunghoon, shielding your line of sight and you felt an odd sense of relief that Sunghoon couldn’t see your crumbling state. There was no way in hell you were turning vulnerable right in front of him, nor were you going to lose the fight to him. Knowing how stubborn either of you were, if Anton hadn’t cut into it, you might’ve been there for longer. “Quit fighting, I swear. I know there’s tension—hell, I can feel it—but can you two at least act like you can tolerate each other? If you two act like this even in Paris, what will the press write?”

Anton was right, he was always right. You hated how you’ve allowed your emotions and past consumed you when it came to Sunghoon. The person who was once your strength had turned into your weakness, your flaw. Everything had been fine until it came to him, it has been so ever since six years back. Now, you were reliving it all over again.

“I’m going to get some air,” Sunghoon announced, sparing one last glance at you before turning his heel to leave, the water from his body left wet footprints on the floor.

Yujin and Anton turned to look at you, the unmistakable look of shock on their faces. They were seemingly as helpless as you were, but they were more likely experiencing much worse being stuck in the middle of you and Sunghoon. “I’m sorry … for that. I’ll go for a dip in the pool.”

They watched as you made your way back to the starting block and in the next second, you had already jumped into the pool, starting another lap again. Yujin and Anton stared at one another, matching frowns etched onto their worried faces. There was a wordless exchange as if something had clicked in their minds from just one knowing look.

“We need to find a way to get them to reconcile.”

One month into training and there was nothing that could be done to make the two star swimmers return to a civil relationship. In fact, the space between you and Sunghoon had only grown bigger ever since the small rift that made everything go from bad to worse.

It had gone to a point where Coach Jeon had to give both of you a lecture, almost begging you and Sunghoon to work together for those few short months. To him, it might’ve truly been a ‘few short months’, but to you? It was a hellish period of time to be reckoned with.

You could tell everyone was trying to push you and him together, but you and him were just like magnets with the same poles, repelling each other no matter how much effort was put into getting you and him close. There was once when your teammates had strategized to purposefully have you and Sunghoon sitting side-by-side, yet to their surprise, your hatred for one another gave you ways to make any efforts fail. For that dinner, each of your chairs were pulled far enough to create an obvious distance, not one glance was even spared between you and him.

Then came a Saturday, a weekend off for the team and an opportunity for everyone to go out for drinks. It was the perfect time to let go and relax for a short moment, but to your teammates, it just so happened to be a perfect setting for their plan: get Sunghoon and Y/N to diffuse their hatred.

“Why is everyone always at my place when we get ready to go out?” you grumbled, picking up your dirty clothes that were scattered on the floor to make way for Yunjin and Yujin, their hands full with clothes and makeup.

“It’s a tradition now,” Yujin pressed a kiss on your cheek, laughing at your unimpressed frown. “It’s a once in a blue moon type of thing! We should make the most out of tonight, we don’t know when we’ll have another day off after this,”

“That’s right,” Yunjin said, placing her dress onto your bed, next to yours that was laid carefully to avoid wrinkles. “It’s time to drink till we break.”

That wasn’t exactly how you wished your night to go. You and the girls met up with the guys at the entrance to the club, having to squeeze your way in and hold onto each other tightly to not lose your way. It reminded you why you never had an active nightlife apart from the routine you had as an athlete. The club reeked of alcohol, sweat, smoke and many other things, none of them were good.

The moment you got to settle into the booth, you finally got a clear view of everyone. You, Yunjin and Yujin were dressed in almost matching tight dresses, the only difference was the colour, the length and the existence of shoulder straps. Anton and Juyeon were sporting collared shirts, while Sunghoon wore a black button down shirt, his hair gelled up to reveal his forehead.

There was no mistaking his straying eyes, but he wasn’t the only one, you were equally guilty. You tried to reason it with the excuse of pure curiosity, yet you found yourself stealing more than one glance. By then, you knew it wasn’t something you could easily deny.

Juyeon leaned his body against the table with a serious expression that he had whenever he set the rules for the night every time you had a night out. “Okay, so the rules for tonight, no leaving on your own, unless you send a text. No going overboard until you do crazy shit that will get your name on the headline,” he paused, scanning the group. “Lastly, no becoming Yeonjun and break your bones,”

There was a chorus of snorts and laughter at the slight dig at Yeonjun. It was a joke, but the chances of it happening wasn’t entirely zero. “Got it!” 

The group soon dispersed, some were headed straight to the bar, some were off to the dance floor and some had stayed in the booth. You and Yujin had stuck together, sitting on the high stool at the bar, heads propped onto your hand as you stared at each other. There was a wordless breath of a sigh between you and her, it seemed that neither of you needed to verbally communicate to know what the other was thinking. You held your shot glass up to clink against hers, and at the same time, you downed the shot down with Yujin. 

The feeling of the alcohol burning your throat was something you didn’t miss, yet it was what you needed at that moment. “That was good,” you muttered, hearing Yujin’s laugh as a response to your comment. “If I wasn’t an athlete whose health gets scrutinised, I would be drinking at every minor inconvenience,”

“You’d be an alcoholic at that point,” Yujin shook her head, a faint smile adoring her sharp features. “Why? Is the pressure getting to you?”

“Not exactly. I don’t think about those things, I never do,” you watched as the bartender filled your and Yujin’s shot glasses once more. “I’m thinking about Sunghoon,”

Yujin straightened up at that, her body leaned close to yours, an inquisitive raise of her eyebrow met your eyes. “Sunghoon? You? Thinking about Sunghoon?”

“Not about him per se, but you know—us—our past, it’s affecting the team and I hate it. I hate that I can’t do anything about it,”

“You can? You can just make things even with him,”

“Easier said than done. We can’t see eye to eye. I mean, do you think it’s easy to befriend your ex best friend that you had beef with?”

“Well…no,”

“Exactly,” you said, followed by downing another shot out of your glass. “It’s hard to even speak to him without him glaring at me, how am I supposed to go: ‘hey, let’s be BFFs again’,”

“But don’t you want to try and mend things? At least end the bad blood,”

You stared at your shot glass, your fingers grazing against the mouth of the cup, a sad smile making its way to your lips. “I wish I could, but I’m afraid the damage is worse than I had imagined.”

Drowning your sadness in shots after shots was an equation for disaster, and that was exactly what you had done. Excuse the liver damage, your current concern was your emotions that were bound to spill out of its seams. An emotional drunk, that was what you were as depressing as it sounds. The thought of Sunghoon and your ruined friendship was the cherry on top to it all.

“He hates me!” you slurred, your face buried in your hands after four shots of tequila. “I don’t even know how it turned out like this … how it turned into this,”

“Y/N, you’re drunk,” Yujin moved your shot glass further from your reaching hands, causing you to frown deeper at that. “No more, okay? You’ll regret it in the morning,”

“I’m used to regretting things, just leave me be,” you pouted at Yujin, but she was firm and final in her decision in cutting you off alcohol for the night. “Sunghoon…” you murmured before the alcohol fully set in and your head collapsed onto the table, absolutely blacking out.

“Oh God.”

Yujin returned to the booth with you slumped against her. She thought the amount of weight training she had endured was finally worth it for having to put up with your drunk self. The rest of your teammates had returned to the booth, empty cups were littered around the table, the only sober ones there were Yunjin and Sunghoon, who was trying to peel Anton away from his body. He glanced up in time to see Yujin approaching with you being supported by her.  

Yunjin stood up and rushed to Yujin’s side to help her with you. “Is she okay? I’ve never seen her this drunk,”

“I should be asking the same about Anton and Juyeon,” Yunjin nodded at the two who were slumped against each other, eyes closed and probably drifting to some dreamland where a head splitting morning would soon await them in the morning. 

“They’re also a lost cause,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Let’s get going,”

It was a miracle that Yunjin, Yujin and Sunghoon had successfully carried you and the other two out of the club. The process, however, didn’t matter and was forbidden to speak about, what mattered most was the success of getting the three of you. 

“I’ll call a cab for us four, we live in the same apartment complex,” Yunjin looked over at a struggling Yujin trying her best to prevent Anton and Juyeon from falling over while they leaned against each other. You were basically the calmest out of them, sleeping soundly. “Will it be okay for you to bring Y/N home? I know it’s too much to ask—”

“I’ll bring her home. It’s not too much, don’t worry,” Sunghoon reassured, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat. “W–what’s her address?” it never occurred to Sunghoon that, one day, he would not know where you lived, that you were no longer the girl that lived next to his house. The girl that had once taken over his life was no longer a part of it. That, to him, was a tough pill to swallow.

“I’ll send it to you in a second, I’m almost done booking the cab,” Yunjin was feverishly tapping her screen, her eyebrows knitted together. “You drove here, right?”

“I did,”

“Smart decision,” she muttered, finalising her booking with one last tap. “The cab’s arriving in ten minutes and I just sent her address to you. Don’t worry about us, it isn’t our first time, we know how to deal with them. Get her home safe, and you, get home safe too,”

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Sunghoon asked once more, casting a worried glance over at the two men who couldn’t even keep their balance sitting up. 

“Better than okay. Now, go get her home, we’ll be fine.”

Sunghoon drove his car to the front of the club, and with the help of your two friends, you were loaded into the passenger seat with ease. By then, you were half awake from your sleep, the unfamiliar settings causing you to become much alert. You sat up from the seat a little too quick, an honest mistake which brought a throb to your head. 

“Just sleep, it’ll hurt less,” 

That voice. How and why was it so close to you? Whose car were you in? Could it be …?

“Sunghoon?”

You blinked hard, trying to get rid of the haziness and the blur in your vision. It didn’t need a second thought for you to know it’s Sunghoon. From his voice to his outline, even the midst of it all, you could always recognize the boy you knew your whole life. 

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m just trying to help,” he replied flatly, keeping his eyes ahead. 

“I thought you’d rather die than help me,”

“Well, that’s what you think. You’re not always right,” 

You didn’t say anything after, letting a curtain of silence fall over, it was better for you and him. You could barely keep your eyes open, the heaviness of your head only made you feel much nauseous than before. It was more ironic how the reason you drown yourself in alcohol was sitting next to you, driving you home with no single trace of alcohol in his blood unlike you. Maybe you were the pathetic one here.

The drive back to your place was quiet, the faint music from his radio was playing to fill the awkwardness between you two. How did it even get to this point in the first place? You wished you knew. Sunghoon’s car eventually came to a stop right by the entrance of your apartment complex, the silence somehow only grew thicker now that the car has stopped moving. 

“We’re here,” Sunghoon announced the obvious, attempting to cut through the silence with something rather than nothing. “Do you need me to walk you up?”

“I’ll be fine on my own,”

“You don’t really look fine,”

“Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine, and thanks for the ride home. I’ll see you at training,” you reached for the handle, pulling it and opening the door, one foot already out, but the other lost its footing and you stumbled, a hand gripping onto your forearm was what prevented you from falling face first into the hard road. Sunghoon yanked you back into the passenger seat, and you were too surprised to utter another word. Damn it. 

“You’re clearly not fine on your own. Let me walk you up,” he said with a finality in his voice. You knew there was no way for you to reject his offer now that you had embarrassed yourself while you tried proving your point. “You’re still not good at walking in heels after all these years, huh?”

“What—”

He had slammed his side of the door into your face and your unfinished response. You didn’t have the time to process everything when Sunghoon appeared by you in a split second, your door was opened and he was staring at you with an unreadable expression. It was irritating and extremely annoying to you how he was practically almost impossible to read around you. You knew him too well, and that was probably the reason why he increased his guard when it came to you.

“Hold onto me,” he extended his arm, and you couldn’t explain why, but your heart rate was increasing with every passing second. His head tilted slightly at your hesitance, a minor frown decorated his features at your reaction. “What is it?”

“Oh—nothing,” you shook your nerves off. Since when were you ever scared of Sunghoon? Let alone be nervous around him. You might’ve not been friends but it doesn’t make him any scarier. In that light, in that moment, you got a glimpse of the Sunghoon you knew years ago. That was what made you freeze up.

You placed your hand on his forearm, using him for support as you got out of his car, the piercing pain in your foot caused you to wince. You’re still not good at walking in heels after all these years, huh? Why must he always be right about you? “What is it?” he noticed your discomfort, worry flashing across his face for a moment. 

“It’s nothing, just my heels—”

“Sit back,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back into the passenger seat. He took one glance at you, there was an unmistakable mix of emotions in his eyes, but then he was out of your sight, opening the door of his backseat to get something. 

Once he was back, he knelt on one knee in front of you, not a single word was exchanged, but you followed his every movement. He had a pair of shoes in his hand, it was only a beat later when he stared up at you, meeting your curious eyes. “When are you going to stop pushing me away and pretend it’s nothing when you need help?”

Sunghoon reached for your leg, unbuckling your heels in a swift motion, his touch was soft and he was gentle with you in every way. The shock from earlier till now had only caused you to sober up quicker, but the haziness in your head made you wonder if this was just a dream. He was right in front of you, swapping your heels for a comfortable pair of shoes, helping you into them as you watched wordlessly.

“There. Feel better now?” Sunghoon stood up, holding onto your heels in one hand. Truthfully, you didn't know what to say to him, merely nodding in response. He breathed out a rather loud sigh, extending his arm out to you once more, and you immediately got the cue to hold onto him just like before.

Your first step out onto the ground was heaven in those comfortable shoes. They were large and awkward for you, but they were miles better than your heels. “Just hold onto me. I know you probably can't walk straight now,”

You bit back a remark to that, wanting to prove him wrong but you figured it'd be another stupid idea of yours. Holding onto his forearm just like before, you walked quietly with him by your side. You were unconsciously leaning your side onto him, the realisation might’ve not hit you, but it did for him. This was the closest you’ve been since six years ago, physically and emotionally. 

The silence was painful leading up to the moment you opened your front door, hoping to bid him a hasty goodbye, just for you to almost stumble over your own two feet once more, proving his point was right all over again. Sunghoon didn’t complain when he helped you out of his shoes, he didn’t say anything even when he guided you into your bedroom where you crashed out once your head hit the pillow. How was that possible? That was what Sunghoon thought upon seeing your sleeping figure.

“Sunghoon,” he nearly jumped at the sound of your voice that was muffled by your face being pressed into your bedsheets. Your eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed with a slight frown as if there were many thoughts swarming your drunken mind. He didn’t dare to speak or make another move, waiting for what you would say next with an unsteady breath. You shifted in your sleep, your hand seemingly balling into a fist. “I’m sorry,” the words were hardly audible, yet in the silence of the night and the heat of it all, it was the loudest and clearest to Sunghoon, they were the only thing buzzing in his ears along with the sound of his heartbeat.

A faint smile that he hasn’t worn around you in ages made its way to his face. Although Sunghoon knew you would most likely have forgotten about this and have zero recollection of uttering the words ‘I’m sorry’ when morning comes, there was still a sense of assurance that the chances of reconciling weren’t completely zero. He breathed out a small sigh, realising he had to go back to pretending he hadn’t heard your confession, having to act cold to one another as if it wasn’t killing him internally. Were you feeling the same as he did?

Sunghoon tucked you into your blanket, casting one last glance at you sleeping soundly before turning his back to you, taking big steps to your bedroom door just for him to stop in his tracks at the glint of your photo frames. He knew he shouldn’t pry, but he couldn’t help stealing a glance. It was his first mistake, his curiosity had led him to the childhood pictures of you and him. You still had them after everything you went through with him. There was a lump in his throat, the sting in his eyes became much more prominent, a cluster of emotions were weighing down on him.

“I’m sorry too.”

“Is it me … or is the mutual hating tension becoming awkward now?”

All of your teammates were huddled in a group, observing you and Sunghoon being forced to listen to your coach’s lecture for the hundredth time. It was the first training after your short weekend break, and that night alone has changed everything. Neither you nor him were at each other's throats anymore, there was no malice in the air or animosity, but there was still a striking tension that made everyone around you and him feel uncomfortable. 

“What even happened that night?” Juyeon crossed his arms, frowning a little at the zero to none recollection of what happened that night all thanks to his reckless drinking.

“Nothing much,” Yunjin said, her eyebrows raising at the sight of you and Sunghoon, choosing to keep your worries about him a secret. 

Yujin coughed, displaying a deadpan expression. “What Juyeon probably meant was, what happened after? He sent her home, didn’t he?”

“He did, but I didn’t hear what happened after,”

“They’re acting like they’ve fucked or something,”

“Anton!” the group averted their eyes at Anton, who seemed to have shrunk under the sharp glares sent by his teammates. 

“What really happened after?”

If you were to receive at least a dollar for the times your coach has reprimanded you and Sunghoon, you would’ve quit swimming and be a millionaire. This instance was the same as before where he called you and Sunghoon out on your lack of chemistry. He wasn’t entirely wrong, and you could understand how it might affect the overall team chemistry, but what could you do? Make the first move? Insane.

“Guys, I know I’ve said this before, but you’ve got to at least talk a little,” Coach Jeon let out a sigh, rubbing the sides of his head with his lips pressed into a thin line. “Everyone with eyes can tell you do not wish to be associated with each other or stand next to each other—” his eyes were trained on the distance between you and Sunghoon. Upon realisation, the both of you took a step closer to each other, but it was not enough to mend it.

“Just try. Don’t give the national team or yourselves bad press, alright?” Coach Jeon’s face was laced with genuine concern and worry. Given how long your relationship has been affecting the team, your coach’s worries only increased. “Look, either try to be on friendly terms before the Olympics or I’ll make it happen,” the latter sounded almost like a threat from the tone of his voice, sending chills down each of your spines. “Dismissed.”

The moment your coach was out of ear shot, you turned to look at Sunghoon, narrowing your gaze accusingly at him. “Did you hear him? We’ve got to at least try speaking—” before you could manage to finish your sentence, Sunghoon scoffed and turned on his heels to leave the room.

You, on the other hand, were entirely dumbfounded by his sheer audacity. Was him helping you out that night merely a front that he kept up? He had transformed a total 180 compared to his previous attitude, this was not the same man who left you water and aspirin by your bed. “Asshole!” you shouted out at him as he made his way out, turning to leave from the other door to avoid following him.

The rest of your teammates that were huddled in a group still had their eyes fixated on the drama unfolding before them, most of which were shaking their heads in disapproval, some wandering eyes were trained on either one of your backs before disappearing completely behind the doors. Yunjin exchanged a brief glance with Yujin, a light bulb on the top of her head turning on.

“I’ve got a way to get them to fix things up.”

The sun was soon setting as the evening came to an imminent end. You were the last to shower, being the only one left in the locker room, the sound of your locker door slamming shut echoed throughout the room. You took a seat on the bench, leaning your head against the lockers, a frustrated groan escaped your lips. You were annoyed, agitated at how Sunghoon had actively ignored you. Why was he acting like a total stranger to you? The least he could’ve done was spare some acknowledgement. Was he as cruel as you made him out to be?

You were pulled out of your deep thoughts the second you heard voices coming from the outside of the door. There was no way anyone would be catching you getting emotional over Sunghoon—except for Yunjin—once was already enough, you blamed it on the influence of the alcohol. The voices only got louder as it came closer. There was a man’s voice, but also a woman, or actually, it sounded more like a group as you walked to the door, straining your ear to listen in on the commotion outside.

Before you could get any closer, the door flung open, causing you to take a step back in shock, mouth agape. The person being pushed into the locker room was no one other than the manifestation of your thoughts: Park Sunghoon. Just as quick as he was pushed in, the door slammed shut and there was a sound of the door locking. 

“Sort your shit out and we’ll let you out in a few hours! Sorry!”

“What?” 

“What?”

You and Sunghoon yelled out simultaneously, absolutely incredulous this was befalling on you. Sunghoon, who happened to be unfortunate enough to be pushed into the locker room that you were alone in. This wasn’t a coincidence, it was a strategic plan your teammates brewed up. The realisation clicked once you locked eyes with him, the adrenaline soon died down and the usual awkward tension returned. 

The pettiness from earlier had you turning your back on him, storming towards the bench where you were sitting before your peace was ruined. Slow and hesitant footsteps followed you from behind, the heaviness of your breathing filled the air and you soon stopped in your tracks, the footsteps followed short. You turned around fast enough for you to have a whiplash, the man in front of you had kept a distance between you and him, the unspoken emotions were visible in the way he looked at you.

“Are we ever going to stop this?” the words had left his mouth before you could even form a proper thought, that alone was able to break down everything you had prepared to say beforehand. 

“Stop—what?”

“This! Us!” he gestured between you and him, the distance was already proof of your coldness to one another. “Are we going to continue pretending everything is alright when it’s not?” 

“You seriously have the nerve to say that after ignoring me for years, so yes, everything is fine! It’s the way it’s supposed to be,”

“You were ignoring me too!”

“I mean, you hate me, we can’t stand each other, isn’t that what everything is meant to be like?”

“‘I hate you’? Since when have I hated you?” Sunghoon scoffed, nostrils flaring, frown lines deepening. 

“Ever since our first competition after you transferred clubs. We stopped talking, you never bothered to look me in the eyes and brushed past me as if I was a stranger! I thought I could try apologising, but since then, all I could see in your eyes was anger,” your breath was shaky, the memories of your best friend becoming someone you couldn’t recognise was painful to relive. “You never told me your plans to leave, but you know what? I thought we were best friends…”

Sunghoon was silent for a moment, he opened his mouth to speak just for him to close it again, jaw clenched with a tense gaze. “I thought it was the right choice. I knew you would’ve said no if I had told you earlier, so I chose not to. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I suppose my judgments were wrong. I was a coward,” he paused, his eyes scanning every micro expression you made. “I never hated you. How could I ever? I was angry at myself. Seeing you…I was frustrated that I had let you go so easily. I thought you didn’t wish to reconcile after you ignored me, I didn’t know it was the opposite,”

You were still unresponsive, your pupils were shaking just as your breath began to waver. Sunghoon tried his best to muster the faintest of a soft smile, his knuckles were soon turning white from how hard he was balling his fists. “I’m sorry for saying those things that night. I shouldn’t have disregarded our friendship over something so stupid. I’m sorry, Y/N,”

With every blink, your eyes only stung from the tears building up. His confession as a whole made your heart twist, the overwhelming truth was eating you up from within. The explanation from him that you craved and yearned from years was finally here, but instead of feeling angry and wanting to punch him in the face like you’ve always thought you would, you were the total opposite of that.

Tears were streaming down your face before you could fully comprehend you were crying. The lump in your throat was preventing you from speaking, a choke sob escaped and that wasn’t helping your case at all. “Fuck,” you cursed, feeling the heat creeping up to your face from embarrassment and you immediately buried your face into your hands.

“Hey,” Sunghoon took large strides to get to you. You felt the warmth of his presence, the gentle touch of his hands that were on your arms, trying to pry them away from shielding your face. In that moment, you let yourself fall victim to him and his touch, feeling as if you had travelled back in time to when you first lost and Sunghoon was comforting you. “Hey, look at me,” your eyes flitted up to meet his gaze, recognising the familiarity in them that you’ve missed. 

“What are you crying for?” his thumb brushed against your skin, wiping the downpour of tears. 

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon, I’m truly sorry. I feel stupid, I shouldn’t have expected you to read minds, I shouldn’t have blamed you for everything—”

“Hey,” he said once more, pulling your attention back onto him. “It’s alright. The both of us made mistakes, we were both in the wrong, none of us could blame the other. I know where you’re coming from, I understand,”

You blinked your tears away, breathing in deeply to stop yourself from crying yet again. “I wished we could’ve done this earlier. I wished I could’ve been less consumed by my anger. I lost many years without you, and most of all, I missed you,”

There was a twitch to the corners of Sunghoon’s lips, his hold on your hand became slightly tighter, and in a blink of an eye, he tugged you into his chest, engulfing you into a hug. You’ve missed this feeling, yet it felt completely new to you. “I missed you too. I’m sorry for being such a stuck up asshole to you all the time,”

You snorted, smiling faintly against his hold. “You better be sorry. You’re forgiven,”

“You’re forgiven too.”

Six years. That was how long you’ve lost with each other. The amounts of competitions won, achievements and important events missed could no longer be replaced. But that day, in that locker room, you got a new chance at rebuilding the moments you’ve lost in those six years, and you got a new beginning to build memories, even legacies, together that lasted for centuries.

Waking up to a message from Sunghoon on a Saturday morning was the last thing you’d expect. 

Sure, you had made up with him not long before this, rather forcefully so, and you were glad it went well because you were done with your years of miscommunications with him, but after all, the wound was still fresh, the awkwardness and unfamiliarity was there between the both of you. You couldn’t really speak to him without silence eventually following with nothing to say, nor could he keep a conversation with you fully either. 

In your eyes, he looked like the person you knew for your whole life, physically unchanged, but at that moment, you didn’t know what he was actually like anymore, whether he would laugh at the same joke you made or if he’d have the habit of repeating some words as he used to, all of those became a mystery to you. It hurts you to know you’ve built a distance from him, causing the person you understood so well becoming someone you’re barely associated with.

Unknown number: this is Y/N, right? it’s Sunghoon. do you have time today?

You: hey, it’s Y/N. i do have time, i’m free for the whole day. why do you ask?

Sunghoon: i’m going home today, back to our hometown, i’m wondering if you’d like to come along? it’s okay if you decline though.

You: no, actually i’d like to come with you if you don’t mind. thanks for asking me. 

Sunghoon: i’ll be at your house in an hour, eat something light, let’s get breakfast at our usual place.

Going back to the place that practically raised you along with the person that had been by your side since the start and growing up together with you was something you’d never once thought was possible in those six years apart, that was until now. It was a miracle that he’d willingly invited you to join him, and as much as you were relieved, you were also nervous, way too anxious for your own good.

For at least fifteen minutes after answering his texts, you paced back and forth in your apartment, conflicted about what to wear, the things you should bring, and even preparing what you could say to him once you saw him. This was a big step for not only you, but also him. It was a bandage that would heal the wounds caused by your dispute, a potential chance to restart the friendship and get closer to one another.  

Seeing his car brought you back to the night he drove you home. An embarrassing realisation that you had was Sunghoon had to see you in your drunken state that couldn't keep yourself balanced on two feet. You disregarded that memory and entered his car, greeting him a good morning like you've grown to do at training.

“Hungry?” 

“I'm alright, just had some bread,”

“Great. It'll be an hour drive and we'll stop by our favourite restaurant, how does that sound?”

“I'm excited. I haven't been back in months,”

“Well, I think you'd like the new set they added in the menu.”

He remembered what you liked and hated? The biggest shock was realising he still ate at your favourite restaurant, taking note of an addition to the menu that he'd think you'd like. Did that mean he's kept you in his head even before your reconciliation?

Everything was confusing to you. He was confusing to you. It was absolutely frustrating. You shook off that feeling and stared out of the window, noting some landmarks that you remembered. It was the same route you'd take every time you went back to your hometown as well. You wondered how many times you've happened to cross paths on this route with Sunghoon in the past. 

By taking advantage of the silence in the car, you decided to ask Sunghoon a question that's been eating you alive ever since you received his message. “Why did you suddenly decide to go back at this time?”

Sunghoon didn't expect you to cut through the silence, glancing at you briefly before returning his eyes upon the read ahead. He hummed thoughtfully, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. 

“To be honest, I've thought about it for quite some time already. I wanted to have a small getaway while being able to see my parents before going to Paris,” he paused for some time, the faint music coming from the radio played in the background. “It's something that I do before major competitions. Visiting the old pool and seeing everyone again really calms me down a lot. I just thought it'll be a great opportunity to bring you along now…” now that we're somewhat friends again. That was probably what he wanted to say after judging from his hesitance. 

“I never knew you went back so often,” you muttered, frowning at the fact that this was another thing that you failed to learn about Sunghoon. It was also another evidence of how your friendship was, in fact, in the ditch for a long period of time where you practically had zero idea of what the other was doing.

He maintained his focus on the road ahead, but you could see a small, ever so slightly of a smile forming on his face. At least you knew he was getting comfortable enough to not keep such a stoic expression around you like before. “It's not that often. I will try to do it as much as I can, but it's hard. You know, my mum would ask your mum about you all the time, she just hides it from me,”

You snorted at that, yet internally, you felt touched at Mrs Park's concern for you even when you and her son stopped being friends. It was hard to avoid her whenever you went home considering she lived in the house next to your family. Not that you had ill intentions to dodge her, but seeing her after what went down, you didn't have the courage to face her. Mrs Park was relentless to say the least, she'd always find her way to speak to you no matter what, and sometimes, you could see how sorry she was from her eyes alone.

“I'm sure my mum does the same too and she just never tells me.”

The journey there didn’t take long with several conversations here and there with Sunghoon, the small talks lasted longer than how it usually would, and that alone was saying something. There were some laughs shared together, in the midst of the moment, you couldn’t help letting your gaze on his smile linger for more than a second. It was the first few times you got to see Sunghoon letting himself go around you just like old times. 

Sunghoon wasn’t kidding when he mentioned the first stop would be your favourite restaurant. It was surprising to see the restaurant again after almost a year of not dropping by. The times you went back to your hometown was to visit your parents only, there were barely any second thoughts about stopping to visit your favourite spots. Maybe it was also because you were scared to relive the best memories you had with Sunghoon and the only way was to avoid the places you created unforgettable moments with him.

“I haven’t been here in forever,” you looked around at the unchanging interior of the restaurant, the walls were decorated with simple paintings and a picture of you and Sunghoon together with the restaurant owner. Beside that picture was another one that caught your eye instantly. Squinting, you realised that it was Sunghoon with the owner in more recent years, most likely a year ago. He really did come back to visit much more consistently than you, especially to the places you grew up going to together. “Is that you in the picture?”

Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, turning to follow your line of sight and realisation dawned on his face at the picture that was next to the old one of you and him. “Oh—that, yeah it is. It was taken a year ago. I only started coming back here last year. I was surprised she recognised me after all those years. It was quite awkward when she asked me about you though,”

“I can imagine,” you cringed at the image of people asking either one of you about the other, you've been so close since forever where everyone assumed you and him came in pairs. “I didn’t think you’d come back here,” 

“Why not?”

“Doesn’t it remind you too much of us?”

Sunghoon smiled at that, a hint of curiosity sparked in your eyes at his reaction. “That’s the reason why I came back actually … regardless of what happened,”

You could sense some sadness in his voice when he said that despite wearing an unwavering smile. There was an odd feeling in your heart knowing that you were wrong all along. Sunghoon never hated you, not even once. In fact, he missed you just as much as you did, or more judging from what he'd said. Was it relief, regret or sadness that you felt?

“Should we order?” he noticed the solemness settling in your face, taking the initiative to change the subject and divert your attention away from your thoughts. “How about we order our usual?”

“Do you still remember mine?”

“I do. I'd never forget anything about you.”

Every part of you was filled with nostalgia once you tasted the food you grew up eating. It was a shame your fear clouded you from coming back to the restaurant, you've missed it more than you expected. However, it was probably the best choice that you made unknowingly. It wouldn't have felt the same without Sunghoon. Eating the same food with the same person that you had done so years ago proved that you would've missed his presence if he wasn't there.

“You two are going to the Olympics next month, right?” the restaurant owner, Mrs Kim, came by your table to check up on you and Sunghoon, who answered her question with a short 'yes'. She turned to you, and it was then you realised how much older she's gotten over the years of not seeing her. Time really has slipped through your fingers. “I haven't seen you in years. I was really happy to see you winning in the last Olympics,”

You bowed your head slightly, smiling at the fact that she remembered you even though you practically disappeared for a long period of time. “Thank you. I really wished I got the time to stop by too,”

“It's okay, you're probably busy, aren't you? It just makes me really, really happy to see you here with him now. I remember how you and him loved coming by to hang out and eat,” Mrs Kim reminisced thoughtfully, spreading the effect to you and possibly Sunghoon as well. She took a quick glance at the wall where your old picture was. “How about we take a new photo? I'll make sure to stick it on the wall to show how much our Olympic medallists had grown,”

You and Sunghoon laughed awkwardly, but neither of you rejected her offer either. At the same spot in the restaurant where you stood years back, in the exact position standing beside Mrs Kim with Sunghoon to her right, you smiled at the camera, listening to the click coming from the phone as the picture was taken. As Mrs Kim ran to check on the pictures, you looked over at Sunghoon, meeting his eyes at once as he had already been staring at you before that. 

It was unspoken, but you knew what he meant. This moment was something you and him both needed after everything that went down. It was a start over, a reflection on your past and reliving your memories. You were there then, also creating new memories for your future-self, looking back to feel nothing but relief that you and Sunghoon had patched up the cracks.

There was a small, genuine smile that crept onto your face. It was filled with nothing but sincere joy and relief. At that, Sunghoon reciprocated your smile, chuckling a little too. A wave of emotions flowed through the two of you in that instance, because you knew, there was nothing in this world that could ever take this moment away from you, never again. 

The next stop right after breakfast was your parents' homes. 

There was a sense of ease in the air ever since you left the restaurant. You and Sunghoon no longer were as tense as before, feeling rather comfortable in your own skin compared to the awkwardness you suffered from last time. Sunghoon couldn't hide his nervousness about going home, and if you thought about it too, you started feeling the same.

You didn't tell your parents you were visiting, after all it was an impromptu trip and you figured a surprise visit would be nice. 'Surprise' probably wouldn't be enough to describe your return together with Sunghoon. You doubted anyone could've seen this coming.

“Let's meet up after to get lunch, how does that sound?” Sunghoon and you were standing outside of his car that was parked on the sidewalk right by each of your houses. 

“Sounds good. I'll text you,”

“Sure. I'll let you know when I'm done too,” he glanced over your shoulder, looking at his house before averting his gaze to yours. It didn't take long for you to piece together what was going through his mind. Memories of your childhood, that was most likely flooding his head. “See you,”

“See you in a while too.”

It was odd. Watching Sunghoon entering his home, you couldn't get yourself to enter yours. Not because you were scared of your parents whatsoever, it was mainly due to a weird feeling clouding your senses. Every moment, everything, from the restaurant up until standing on the sidewalk with Sunghoon, it reminded you of your past that you were reliving in the present, except you were much older and had different circumstances. Growing up was weird.

Your parents were definitely surprised to see you walking through the front door. Nevertheless, they engulfed you in a hug and asked about your sudden visit. Once you mentioned Sunghoon, their eyes almost popped out, and you had to explain everything from the start to the end. 

“So, I guess we're friends again,”

“Oh, thank God,” your mother sighed dramatically, clutching onto her chest. You were already tired from her antics and it has only been an hour. “Thank God you and Sunghoon are back to being friends. I was wondering if you two will ever talk again,”

“We were almost never going to talk forever. Things weren't as smooth sailing in the beginning, but I'm glad we worked through it somehow,” you shrugged, lips flattening into a thin line. 

“Did you know Sunghoon would always visit us whenever he's back here?” your dad chimed into the conversation, it was his turn to surprise you with something new that you never knew about, so you shook your head. “He practically begged us not to tell you because he knew you'd be angry,” 

“He did?” you breathed out in disbelief and shock, not expecting Sunghoon would go out of his way to visit your parents as well. All while you and him were on bad terms, that was way more than necessary. You felt yourself melting into the couch, another level of guilt built internally. “He cared … way more than I thought.”

The day eventually rolled by swiftly after eating lunch and an early dinner with both yours and Sunghoon's family. The two families hadn't had the chance to sit down and catch up together as a whole in years. It wasn't the same in those years of bad blood, and now that everything was back to the way it should be, you could tell both families were at peace just as much as you were. Inevitably, you had to bid them goodbye with a heavy heart, accepting their wishes for the Olympics and stealing one last look to remember the moment.

The evening sun was setting soon, the sky was painted a hue of orange and yellow. You missed the feeling of watching the sunset back at home. This time around, however, you didn't feel a sense of sadness in you anymore, unlike how you did in the past. The sun was disappearing from sight as you stared out of the window. Sunghoon was bringing you to the last spot that he'd usually go to during his routine visit: your old training centre.

You still remember the last few times you visited the training centre. Once was after the Tokyo Olympics where you and some of your other teammates that you trained with at your old club came to meet some of the young swimmers. There was the other time when you personally visited to see your old coach, having the chance to speak to him privately and you could still recall the unavoidable mention of Sunghoon.

There you were, years later, walking by him along the vast swimming pool that you trained in with Sunghoon growing up, watching evening training sessions of the youth swimmers. Eventually, you and him decided to take a seat in the stands, feeling worn out after a long day. You turned to him, unwavering eyes trained on his face. “I’m surprised you would visit everytime you’re here even though you transferred,”

“It’s where everything started,” he had his attention on the training session happening below, a smile filled with reminiscence of the past slowly crept onto his lips. “It’s where all my memories are. I could remember every little memory of us being here from years ago,”

“I suppose you’re right. Whenever I’m here, I feel oddly nostalgic. Every part of the pool has a story behind it, that’s how much time we spent here,” you hugged your arms around yourself, leaning forward to get a clearer look of the swimmers’ performances. 

Sunghoon averted his gaze, turning to meet your eyes instead. There was a hint of fondness in those warm, brown irises that reflected a different version of you in them. They lingered for a beat longer before he finally spoke. “I’m glad you’re here with me this time,” there was no mistaking the sincereness in both his voice and his gaze, the truth of his was the same as how you felt. It truly was the closure that you and him needed. “You have no idea how much I missed you whenever I’m here,”

The edge of your mouth twitched, there was an unexplainable feeling in your heart, something that you’ve experienced around Sunghoon one too many times back then and it seemed to have returned once more. “And you have no idea how I feel the same about you when I’m here too.”

Going home, there was a much lighter atmosphere surrounding you and Sunghoon compared to before. You couldn’t explain it, but you just knew the trust and love that had existed in the past was coming back stronger than ever. It was a day filled with nostalgia, reminiscence and also vulnerability. You’d never thought you’d confess your inner thoughts to him until he did, being the first to open up and allowing you to realise he wasn’t the bad guy that you made him out to be in your head. He was Park Sunghoon, the same as the one you grew up with, the first boy who showed you everything and made you feel emotions you’ve never experienced. 

He was your best friend. Yet, deep inside of you, you knew in those two words, ‘best friend’, there was something more than simply just that.

One month. 30 days. 

The Paris Olympics seemed to be closer than imagined. From being a faraway dream to becoming a reality, the Olympics were the only thing clouding your thoughts day and night, just as it was for your teammates. You and your teammates have yet to stop pushing yourselves with the reminder of winning a gold medal, the weight of it made everyone tense and having a harder time to calm down. 

“Should we get some drinks tonight?” Yunjin proposed at the end of the training, looking expectantly at every one of you. “It’s the weekend and we have some time off,”

“No clubs please,” Anton threw his head back, dreading the thought of getting drunk at the club and being disoriented again, especially when the big day was coming.

“Who said we’ll be going to the club?” Yunjin’s smirk was telling you that she had a grand idea brewing in her head already. “Come to my place. I have the best drinks to offer,”

The temptation of drinking somewhere other than the club was getting to you and the others. With the accumulated stress and endless training, all you wished for was a chance to let go even for only a second. Now that Yunjin had proposed an idea that was hard to reject, the devil on your shoulder was calling for you to agree.

“I’m down,” Sunghoon was the first to agree to Yunjin’s idea, his eyes immediately meeting yours when you looked over at him. He flashed you a faint smile, giving you a drinking gesture to which you rolled your eyes at.

“You know what, me too,” Juyeon, who stood next to Sunghoon, threw his arm around Sunghoon, bouncing slightly on his heels. Following him, the others agreed too, and you inevitably went along. 

“I’ll pick you up,” Sunghoon said as he passed by you before disappearing with the guys to their locker rooms. Yunjin and Yujin were staring at you with a type of smile that you knew was up to no good. 

“What?” you wrapped your towel around you and started making your way to the locker room as well, the other two running up to catch up with you. 

“You and Sunghoon have gotten really close,” Yunjin nudged you with her elbow.

“Isn’t that what you all wanted? Since you locked me in a room with him,” you wiggled an accusatory finger at both Yunjin and Yujin who were equally guilty for conjuring up the idea and going along with it. “Is it supposed to be surprising that we’re close friends again?”

You remembered that day clearly and what exactly happened after. Once you made up with Sunghoon, you and him weren’t freed from the room immediately as you wished for it to be. Instead, you were in there for over an hour, stuck with Sunghoon and having to converse with him even though he had just witnessed your breakdown in front of him. Admittedly, it was a great bonding time that did help in repairing your relationship, but you were still holding that grudge that your friends had run off to leave you fending for yourself in that locker room.

Thankfully, their efforts were not in vain. After that, you and Sunghoon became closer as each day passed by. Although it was a little awkward and tense at some points in time, you still managed to get over it, building back the friendship that you used to have together. You could tell Coach Jeon was much more relaxed than usual seeing you and Sunghoon talk and interact. Not to mention, the trip back to your hometown has made a monumental impact on you and him, getting the closure that the both of you needed and finally putting everything behind. 

“Well…no,” Yujin interjected, a finger placed on her chin as if she was pondering deeply about something, then she turned to look at you sharply. “But, what if…”

You pulled a face at her, absolutely confused at what she was trying to mean. “What if?”

“What if,” it was Yunjin’s turn to chime in, raising her eyebrows suggestively at you. “What if you and Sunghoon—”

“Never!” you blurted out, stopping Yunjin from finishing the sentence that you knew what was going to end with. That question has been asked ever since you were kids till your teen years, and you were getting deja vu at that moment. The thought of Sunghoon and you dating has always pulled a convulsive reaction out of you.

“What?” Yunjin and Yujin shrieked, halting in their steps which prompted you to follow suit, staring frantically at them as though you’ve spoken a curse that had shook them.

“You had Park Sunghoon wrapped around your little finger since you were a kid and you never once—not even once—thought about him in that sense? Do you know how popular he is?” 

You knew Sunghoon was popular ever since you were a kid. It didn’t matter if it was in school, in the club or around your neighbourhood, his name had a reputation to it, the ‘cute swimmer boy’ was typically how people described him. The crushes people had on him were something you wished you would forget too, not because of jealousy whatsoever, but mainly because you were dragged into it for no reason at all.

“I’ve never considered it before,” you said simply, avoiding their watchful gazes, but were met with doubtful looks from the two girls. 

“Not even once?”

You swallowed, fidgeting with your towel and slowly losing your composure. There was a momentary pause that spoke more than words were needed, followed by an uncomfortable cough. “Well…maybe once,”

“Okay. Just once?” Yunjin pressed on, a satisfactory smile appearing on her lips just as imaginary devil horns appeared on her head. She knew what she was doing. 

“Or twice…” 

“Only?”

“I’m leaving!” you clutched onto your towel, not sparing your friends a single look before rushing towards the locker room. Your heartbeat was increasing at a concerning rate and it was not because you were speeding up your steps, but because of the thought of Sunghoon and your friends’ questions. This was frustrating!

Yunjin and Yujin watched as you sped walked away from them with smiles on their faces, the identical ones they had while brewing up the plan to get you and Sunghoon back together. Well, that worked, didn’t it? So, their next plan should be a guaranteed success.

“You know what I’m thinking?”

“I think I do.”

To your absolute dismay, the conversation you had with Yunjin and Yujin completely distracted you from that moment onwards. All you could think of was Sunghoon associated with the words ‘what if’ when you were in the shower, locker room until seeing the man himself in his car. You listened to him talk with the soft music in the background, the ambience itself painted a picture where a new light was shone on him, the thoughts returning in no time. 

You tried your best to avoid him when you had the chance at Yunjin’s place, taking every chance to distract yourself with your friends’ conversations while chugging down some good beer. There were a few occasions where you felt Sunghoon’s lingering stare at you, locking eyes for several seconds before being the first to look away, heat gradually crawling up to your cheeks. Damn it, Yunjin and Yujin, why did they have to put this imagery into your head? Now you can't face Sunghoon like a normal person.

“Why are you so quiet today?”

You were startled when you heard Sunghoon’s voice coming from behind you. It was right after midnight when you were sitting on one of the chairs in the balcony all by yourself, looking out at the city skyline with a half empty bottle of beer. Sunghoon made his presence known by taking a seat next to you, keeping his unwavering gaze at you, expecting an answer from you.

You. You were the reason. That was what you would’ve said if you had the guts to be as bold as you wished to be. However, that was already reserved for the Olympics, so you couldn’t bring yourself to be bold when it came to your true feelings. What were your true feelings in the first place?

“What? Oh, it’s nothing. I guess it’s just finally hitting me that the Olympics are soon. It’s quite nerve wracking,” you were lying through your teeth, and there was a small chance he could see through you.

Sunghoon propped one hand on his knee, leaning a little close to you, his eyes trained onto your face, the scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of the beer lingered in the air between you and him. “You’re nervous? The Y/N L/N is nervous? That’s something new,”

“Quit teasing,” you slapped his arm in a lighthearted manner, resisting the urge to smile when you saw his face lighting up. “Everyone’s expectations are a heavy burden. Maybe I got older and became a little more aware of everything, but I’m finally realising not only our country is placing their hopes on us, the entire team is too,”

The emotional side of you was making its appearance once more just as it always does when you drink. Last time it was about Sunghoon, and this time it was with Sunghoon, you should be proud of the progress. Taking a swig of your beer, you tried to hide your vulnerability by acting as casual as you could. It has been ages since you and Sunghoon had these types of conversations, especially now that you’ve just recently patched things up, the last thing you wanted was to dump your worries on him.

“Do you still remember what they called us?” he placed his beer bottle onto the ground, the cool night air brushing against his hair, a slight tinge of pink painted on his cheeks from the alcohol in his system. You ignored how close he was to you, your knees brushing against one another at times, his cologne being the only thing you could breathe in, every single detail of his features being as clear as day in the night. “‘National treasures’. That’s what we are. That is what I think you are. Despite everything, whether it is losing or winning, it’s something nobody could ever take away from you. Take the burden and turn it into your strength. No one would blame you for any kinds of outcome,”

There was a beat of silence, you were blinking at him, absolutely lost for words. You were touched, the emotional imbalance wasn’t helping either as it made you feel a bottle of surging emotions. Most importantly, you could feel your heart skipping a beat. Was that supposed to be normal? You ignored the telling signs, opting to feign nonchalance and breaking into a smile. “Since when did you get so matured?”

Sunghoon let out a soft chuckle, turning away from you to look at the night sky instead. He breathed in deeply, exhaling just a second after, a comfortable silence settled for a split moment. “We’re the protagonists of the world,” he said without missing a beat, then he glanced back at you with a fiery spark in those brown irises of his. “That’s what we used to tell each other, isn’t it? So, what’s stopping us from being that again?”

He remembered. He remembered everything. Every little detail that you thought to be too insignificant for him to recall, every small moments you had together, every word you said to him, he never once forgot them. There was a slight widening of your eyes as you processed what he just said, the realisation eventually pulled a laugh of amusement out of you, a sudden wave of reminiscence filled your heart up. 

“You’re right. We’re born to be national treasures and the protagonists of the world. You and I.”

Landing in Paris was a dream come true. 

Not only were you accompanied by the entirety of the national team, but you had your closest friends by your side, the anticipation for victories were apparent in every one of you. Yunjin and Yujin couldn’t contain their excitement throughout the whole plane ride either. They were bugging you about the food choices available, the opening ceremony leading up to the design of the medals. It was a miracle you managed to sleep despite their constant bickerings.

“It’s really happening, isn’t it?” Yunjin whispered to you as the team were en route to the Olympic Village. 

“It is. It truly is,” you had a dazed look in your eyes, the passing sceneries of the city mesmerised you with the reality of you actually being there gradually hit you. “A once in four years opportunity. It is our time now.”

Unpacking your luggage was a hefty job once you’ve arrived at your assigned room in the village. You shared the lodging with your two best friends along with your other teammates from the swimming team, so there was nothing much to worry about except for the amount of gossip that would happen in that space alone. No matter how tired you all were, you had no choice but to power through it and get ready for the opening ceremony in the evening.

The opening ceremony was an unforgettable experience to say the least. You were dressed in a simple suit just as the others were too, the team uniform was the only thing taking up your line of sight as you stood on the boat that was cruising along the Seine River. Countless spectators were crowded on the bridge overlooking the river, waving to the boats passing by.

“I can’t believe we’re on a boat. We didn’t have this in Tokyo,” Yunjin whisper-shouted to you, recounting the opening ceremony back in Tokyo four years ago while waving the flag in her hand with great enthusiasm. 

“It’s not everyday you get to be on a boat in some expensive suit in Paris,” you threw an arm around Yunjin’s shoulder, pulling her close to your side. 

“And it’s not everyday you’re just casually participating in the Olympics,” Yujin added, doing the same to you and pulling you closer to her, eliciting a laugh from both you and Yunjin. It really was a miracle and a dream to have your best friends competing with you at such a big event, and that wasn’t something anyone could just brag about.

Halfway through the boat ride, you managed to squeeze past many familiar faces from your national team, some were even athletes you looked up to, and it made you feel like a fan all over again. However, that wasn’t your main goal for searching around the large boat. It was the person that came to your mind ever since you landed in Paris.

“Sunghoon!” 

He turned around at the sound of your voice calling after him, his curious gaze landed on you, warmth and familiarity filled his eyes at the sight of you accompanied by a boyish smile he would have whenever he was with you. There was no way he could hide his excitement of seeing you from the way his eyes sparkled and crinkled at the sides, looking at you as if you were the only person in his field of vision. 

“Hey,” he breathed out once you reached his side, the both of you leaned against the railings and looked out at the river. “Tired?”

“Very. Can’t you tell I’ve put concealer over my dark circles? I think the jet lag might hit soon,” you dramatically pointed at your under eye area, the frown on your face only pulled a humorous laugh out of Sunghoon. 

“Rest up. Our first event is tomorrow,” 

“Already?” you threw your head back, groaning at the thought of early morning training. 

“Crazy, isn’t it? I have back-to-back events too,”

“Who asked you to sign up for so many anyway?” you nudged his side teasingly, sharing a brief moment of eye contact. 

“I’m very passionate about swimming,” 

“Sure you are,” you snickered quietly at him, sharing the same smile he had on his face. Slowly, you turned to look at him, resting your elbow on the railing. “You’re not pushing yourself too hard, right?”

He averted his gaze from the view in front of him, glancing at you instead and meeting your rather intense eyes that held a message that he knew to decipher before you could explain further. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly. There was a hint of hesitance in his movements for a split second, but then he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m really glad I got to spend this Olympic with you,”

Given the last Olympics in Tokyo where you and he were still in the cold war era, it never once occurred to you that you’ve wasted a precious moment with him. It could’ve been a good memory where you experienced your first Olympics with the person that’s been by your side since day one. Four years since then, in this present time, staring at his delicate features with a crowd cheering around you, there was nothing you would trade to replace this moment with him. 

“I’m glad you’re here with me this time,”

His smile grew wider, eventually reaching his eyes that contained sparks which grew brighter as time passed. Your breath hitched, the air around you seemed to grow thicker, the breeze swept across your face, blowing against your hair. Yet, all you could do was be frozen in place, becoming much aware of the feeling of his skin on yours. How were you to explain the weird sensation of your heart tightening and racing quicker than normal? You were too young to experience cardiovascular diseases! 

Something in you knew it wasn’t symptoms of any heart diseases, it was the signs of love. That was much more frightening to you than anything else. 

“Are you…okay? You dazed out for a bit,” he snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality after having an internal conflict with yourself. 

“What? Oh—I’m fine. Just a little jetlagged. I told you it’s setting in,” you laughed with a nervous undertone to it, trying to wave off any suspicion along with your own thoughts about Sunghoon. 

“Get enough sleep tonight. I’ll be there rooting for you tomorrow. After all, your event is before mine, so I’ll be giving you my every support,” he squeezed your hand gently, unbeknownst to him, his action along with the feeling of it travelled to your heart, triggering it to thump harder against your chest. “You better swim at your best, okay? I’ll always be able to see right through you,”

‘I know you’. You remembered it as clear as day, as though it happened just yesterday. Sunghoon’s words brought back the memory of what he had said to you during your first few altercations in training. It was a fact. There was no need for you to deny it or try to avoid that, because both you and Sunghoon knew, no matter what, you’d be able to see through one another and be the best judges of each other’s performances. After all those years, this seemed to have not changed.

You scoffed lightheartedly, turning your face away from him for a moment to hide your flushed state before facing him once again, putting up a front of casualness. “Who are you? Coach Jeon?”

He snorted at the mention of your coach, shaking his head a little. “I think Coach Jeon would be pissed if you didn’t do your best,” he was stating the obvious, considering your coach has the sharpest eyes when it comes to everyone’s performances, there was no way anyone would dare to do so. Sunghoon raised his eyebrows at you, the slightest smile resting on his lips. “But I don’t think that’ll happen. Ever. Y/N L/N, the person I know my whole life, would never slack off or put zero effort into your swim. So, just do your best,”

“You, do your best, too. I’m hoping we can return home with medals around our necks,”

“Of course we are,” he said without any hesitation whatsoever, straightening his spine and wearing a confident smile, never once loosening his hold on your hand. You forgot Sunghoon tends to be the one who had more confidence than you before every competition. It has been that way ever since you were kids, and it seemed to have continued onto the present day. “Did you forget? We’re national treasures. We’ll always bring a medal home. This time, however, it’s going to be gold,”

“You better stick to your words,” you pointed a finger at him, the thought of winning the gold medal excited you, but it also scared you. To Sunghoon, it was just another challenge for him to tackle. 

“I will, and you better give it your all to win that gold too. I want to win it together with you … like how we used to.” 

Nostalgia was certainly dangerous. You couldn’t help smiling at the mention of the past, thinking about the times you and Sunghoon won gold medals in your individual events. The pictures taken together with a gold medal hanging around each of your neck, smiling innocently with pure joy from winning resided in a thick photobook, becoming memories that you would never let go. It might’ve been different this time compared to the competitions from your childhood as it was the Olympics, the pressure and expectations were higher on you and him. Despite all that, the dynamic between you and Sunghoon remained the same.

Looking out at the Eiffel Tower in the distance, you realise this Olympics wasn’t just a chance to fulfil your dreams, your country’s expectations, but also the hope and dream you shared with Sunghoon since you were kids. The last Olympics might’ve not gone as well as you wished it had in terms of your friendship with Sunghoon, so this was a chance for you to turn things around. Not to mention, your inner voice bugged you constantly about your complicated feelings that have yet to have an answer. Now, that was another problem to solve.

First, you’ve got to get that gold medal. Secondly, you must figure out your true feelings for your best friend. Between the two, the latter seemed much harder than the Olympic gold medal.

“You’re telling me you thought of Sunghoon in a romantic way?”

Breaking the news while you’re warming up half an hour before the finals of your first event was probably the worst timing possible. It was even worse for Yujin and Yunjin who had just finished their semifinal round for their butterfly event. 

Quite frankly, you couldn’t blame yourself either. The thought of it was spilling at the seams since its first appearance prior to the Olympics. From that point onwards, it only seems to plague you further by taking over your mind. You were lucky you managed to make it to the top three out of the eight to qualify to the finals. The first day was already chaotic for you, to top it all off, you just couldn’t avoid Sunghoon entirely and thus, the thoughts about him worsened.

“Well, correction, ‘thinking’, not ‘thought’,” you said meekly, attempting to hide your face by stretching, but your two friends weren’t letting you go easily.

“Present tense?” Yujin shrieked, earning odd stares from reporters and other competitors around you. She pursed her lips, lowering her gaze before narrowing it at you. “So, you do have feelings for him?”

“I don’t know? It’s not confirmed … yet. I think?”

“You haven’t made up your mind yet,” Yunjin hummed, seemingly much calmer than Yujin from the looks of her demeanour. “You’re in denial. I do think you have some feelings if you couldn’t stop thinking about him,”

You stopped your actions, deciding you were done warming up, but remained motionless, a defeated sigh eventually left your lips. “What do I do?”

“Own up to it. Face it,” Yunjin stated plainly, receiving a groan from you as a response. 

“Easier said than done. The last thing I want to do is to ruin our friendship right after fixing it,” 

Yujin looked at you with the softest gaze, much rather in sympathy at your pathetic state. “That won’t happen. How do you know it’s unrequited? What if Sunghoon feels the same way?”

“Impossible,”

“Hey! Don’t make any conclusions before knowing the truth,” Yunjin landed a smack to the back of your head, and as much as you knew you deserved that wake up call, you still hissed at the sting.

“You’re right. I think I’m overcomplicating everything,”

“You are,” Yujin was straightforward, even if her honest truth was a cut to the skin, her rubbing your back in reassurance was a way to patch the wound. “How about we have a debrief tonight at dinner? You should be focusing on what’s much more important now,”

“The fucking finals, Y/N! The 400m freestyle finals! You’re against Ledecky, you should be more worried about her than Sunghoon,” Yunjin surely made a point, and it did help in giving you additional assurance. 

You couldn’t resist laughing, especially at their rather interesting way of encouragement and comfort. “Let's talk about this tonight then. I’ll make sure to swim my best later,”

“Duh, when will you ever not? Come on, Sunghoon’s 400m freestyle final is starting. Do you want to watch that or dodge him?”

“Of course I’d want to watch it. After all, he’s still my best friend and I told him I'll be there to support him,” you remembered the unspoken promise you had with Sunghoon to win the gold medal together. With your first finals happening back-to-back, the desperation to achieve your life-long dream with each other had personally overwhelmed the thought of your nation placing their entire hope on your back.

Being at the poolside gave you a slap in the face with the reality that you were in the finals and you weren’t hallucinating every part of it. You were with some of your other competitors for the finals, some were doing last warm-ups while some were sitting and waiting for the men to start their finals. You were one of those waiting for the event to begin. From the looks of your legs shaking, it was hard to determine who you were nervous for. Yourself or Sunghoon? 

The swimmers soon take their places at their individual starting block. You could spot Coach Jeon giving Sunghoon some last minute advice before giving the boy an encouraging pat in the back, sending him off to his spot. At one point, you wondered if you were staring too intensely at the back of Sunghoon’s head. It was as if he could feel your stare and your presence simultaneously, opting to look over his shoulder instead of stretching like the other swimmers. One look was all it took for Sunghoon to spot you. He had the same spark in his eyes as the moment he saw you on the boat during the open ceremony.

His shoulders evidently sagged in relief. He breathed in deeply, followed by a striking smile that he casted specifically at you. In those years of competing together, you barely had times where your events were back-to-back, but whenever there were opportunities as such, either you or him would be relieved to see one another. Just one glance, and it’d calm your racing heart in no time. To you this time, however, instead of slowing down your beating heart, his presence only made your heart work ten times harder than usual.

Sunghoon had no choice but to take his eyes off of you once they gave out the signal to the swimmers to take their places on the starting block. Your eyes were trained solely on him, unable to tear them away from his figure as you watched him pull his goggles over his head. Quietly, and routinely, you prayed for the best.

There was a loud electronic beep that was followed by the swimmers diving into the pool, a sound of water splashing filled the arena and from that, the cheers increased by ten folds. You could barely breathe as you stared at the large projector that displayed the live televised scene of what’s happening before you, giving everyone a much better view of the action in the pool. 

Sunghoon was currently in a tight spot with both the German and Australian swimmers relentlessly chasing after the first place. There were times when the top three would overtake each other to secure the gold medal position just to fall back. It was only the second lap out of the eight, but you could feel yourself unconsciously gripping onto your chair tightly. To the spectators and fans, the thrill of the competition between the swimmers spurred them alive, the atmosphere in the arena became increasingly wilder from the shouts and cheers.

The swimmers completed each lap with vigour, swimming back and forth for eight laps without stopping for a second, the last lap was soon approaching once you saw Sunghoon kicked his feet off the wall, heading back to the starting spot for one last time. The underwater battle between him and the other two swimmers was becoming much more fierce, leaving the rest of the swimmers to trail behind them. 

There was barely any gap between the three of them till the point where it became hard to determine who was in the lead. The tension was high, the fans in the crowd were shouting louder while waving the flags of their countries. You could hardly get your eyes off of the screen, the name of your best friend was displayed on the lane he was swimming in, the distance between them and the starting point was closer as each second passed.

Nobody dared to blink the next moment. Once their hands touched the walls, it was already the signal of the end. Every swimmer stopped once they had finished their lap, holding onto the edge and waiting for the results. The screams from the people watching in the stands became a hundred times louder when the leaderboard revealed the names of the top three winners. You averted your gaze to the three names, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of Sunghoon’s name sitting in second place.

The camera panned over to show Sunghoon on the screen. There was a hint of disappointment that was hard to hide, but you could tell he was trying to put on a smile. Losing the gold medal was frustrating, however, at the end of the day, he was still a winner of the silver medal, making him the first athlete to clinch an Olympic medal for the country this early on in the campaign. 

The swimmers eventually got out of the pool, rushing to interviews or choosing to freshen up by changing into their tracksuits. The medalists were busy tending to the reporters and once they were done, they rushed off to change so that they could get ready for the award ceremony. That was when Coach Jeon approached you, reminding you that your own event was starting soon. 

“Ready?” he patted your shoulder, giving his best to offer any form of encouragement that seemed to not have successfully calmed you down entirely. 

“Not really, but I’ll be okay,”

“Just remember what we always practised. Those months of hard work will not be in vain, you hear me? Go out there and prove to everyone that you’re Y/N L/N. The star swimmer of the national team.”

‘Y/N L/N, the star swimmer of the national team’. You never expected that the title which has been thrown around in headlines for years to finally become somewhat significant to you until this moment. You were in a designated staging room waiting for the award ceremony to end and at the same time, to get ready for yours. The small television screen in the corner of the wall was broadcasting the entirety of the ceremony, the commentators’ voices were drowned out by the chatters in the room, and your sole focus was on Sunghoon who stood behind the podium. 

The moment his name was announced, he stepped onto the podium, accepting the silver medal that was hung around his neck. There was a small smile on his face as he waved to the crowds, a smile you knew very well whenever he wasn’t fully satisfied with his own results. Apparently he hasn’t changed much over the years when it comes to swimming. 

“We’re starting in five minutes!”

That reminder brought you back to your own reality that you had to face undoubtedly. The second the awards ceremony ended as fast as it had started, preparations for your event began and not long after that, the names of every competitor were announced in order. You walked out of the tunnel right as your name was called, the sound reverberated around the arena, the cheers that followed were loud enough to shake the ground of Paris. You’ve missed this feeling.

Standing before the pool with a large crowd was indeed nerve wracking after months of not competing and swimming in a pool with no spectators around. Even though you did swim with the crowd watching the day before for the preliminary round, you felt the difference at that moment knowing it was the finals. Everyone in that arena was placing their hopes on the athletes from their own countries, it was the same for you, but nothing could compare to how you and your competitors actually felt.

There was a buzz that signalled every one of you to take your places on the starting block. At that point, everything seems clearer to you. The water in the pool, the people in the crowd, your country’s flag, all of them were the reason why you felt almost unbeatable, they gave you strength. The beeping sound of the countdown matched the rhythm of your heartbeat, ever so calmly and steady. 

Just as it did for the finals prior to this one, the electronic beep sounded once more and you kicked off from your starting block, diving into the pool with nothing but the goal of finishing the eight laps in your mind. Time stood still, the only thing filling your vision was the bottom of the pool along with your competitors in your peripheral vision. You didn’t know what was happening above the water or which place you were currently in, with every breath you inhaled, you wished time could stop for a second. 

Every contact with the wall gave you a purpose to keep pushing forward. More than half of the eight laps were completed, all you needed was to push yourself further. It was hard being trapped with yourself and your own thoughts, the constant ideas of what would happen after this kept bugging you even as you swam. Time was, in fact, ticking. The eight laps were soon coming to an end. There was just one last lap from you and you’d be done. 

The starting point seemed distant from your point of view. All you could wish for was your extended hand to quickly make contact with the wall. With every pump of your heart, you counted down to the moment you’ve anticipated for. One, two, three …

One slight graze of your finger against the wall marked the end of your lap. You grabbed onto the edge tightly, emerging to the surface of the water and inhaling a deep breath. Practically snatching your goggles off, your head snapped towards the direction of the leaderboard. Your name sat between the Australian and American swimmers. 

Second place. 3 minutes and 58 seconds, only a second away from first place.

You shut your eyes for at least a few seconds, forcefully swallowing your disappointment down after as you congratulated your competitors. It was the first event out of the many you were competing in. You remained optimistic even as you answered questions from the reporters, though you wished they would cut down on the gold medal questions this early into the campaign. 

On the way to the changing room, you spot a familiar face hanging around with your coach and several other of your teammates. The sight alone brought comfort to you and your heart, there was no chance of you resisting the urge to run up to them. Anton had already beaten you to it, being the first out of the group to spot you and practically shouting your name for the whole world to know.

“Congrats! You kept your spot in the 400m freestyle,” Anton wasted no time in giving you a one handed hug. The others followed too, giving you different variations of a hug.

“I wish I could’ve upgraded, you know?”

“It’s better than none, right? But I do know what you mean, and I believe you’ve done your best,” Anton gave your shoulder a light squeeze, offering a warm smile.

“You did good, Y/N. You were in great form today, but sometimes there’ll be people with better form. Don’t let that get to you and focus on the next event, okay?” Coach Jeon patted you softly on your back, recognising the disappointment in your tone. “Go on and change up, the awards ceremony is soon. Let’s go and not bother Y/N first. We’ll see you later,”

Coach Jeon gave you one last pat on the back then left with the others trailing behind him, all of them cheering you on as they passed you. In the end, it was always your team who’s your biggest support system. That has never changed over the years, and it would never change even for the future, you were very sure of that. 

Amongst the group of your teammates who had already left, one happened to stay back and waited for the chance to speak to you alone. You didn’t expect seeing this person would bring you more comfort after losing the lead. Not a hug or some encouraging words, his presence alone was what you needed in times like this, just the same as it was years ago.

“Hey,” Sunghoon had his hands tucked into his pants, the silver medal was still hanging around his neck. You figured he had just finished taking pictures and was freshly done with the press conference. From the tiredness in his voice, you wished he had gone off to rest as well, but knowing him, he would rather see you first than do all that.

“Hey,” you said back, letting him be the one to walk towards you and closing the gap. Pointing at the silver medal that he was sporting, you stared at him with a knowing smile. “You better not beat yourself up over this,” you landed a firm punch to his shoulder, but unlike how he would’ve usually reacted, he just accepted it with a grin growing on his lips, neither dodging or groaning from it. There was something so soft about his eyes that stared back at you, an unreadable mix of emotions that you’ve never seen before reflected in his those brown irises. 

“I won’t,” he chuckled, hands unknowingly reaching to touch his silver medal. “After all, this is only the beginning. There’ll be a gold medal soon,”

“I need some of your confidence. You’re always so certain about your goals and you’d end up achieving it,” you pointed out without a second thought, and you weren’t exactly wrong either, earning an amused chuckle from him. “You better let me wear the gold medal once you win it,”

“Hey, didn’t we have this conversation before? We’re both winning the gold medal. Don’t forget that,” he frowned at you, thick eyebrows knitting together and it only made you smile in endearment. “I’m not winning this without you. I want to achieve our dream together,”

“You’re ridiculous,” you let out in disbelief, but from the look on Sunghoon’s face, you knew he was dead serious. Sunghoon was determined to achieve this goal with you no matter what, and he was going to succeed despite the circumstances. Just as you’ve said, Sunghoon has always achieved his goals that he was certain of, this one was the same as the rest to him.

“You said I’m certain about my goals, so here I am. I’m sure we’d win it. Together.” 

There was an overflowing amount of sureness in his conviction till the point where it had influenced you gradually. If there was one thing about Sunghoon, it’d be the fact that once he’s set his mind on something, he’d do anything to get it. You were just worried that mindset would wear him out in the long run if something didn’t go his way.

“I’ll hold you to it then,”

“Hey Y/N! The ceremony is starting in five minutes! Go change up! I’ll see you out there,” the American swimmer who secured third place, Katie Ledecky, spotted you still unchanged and in your swimsuit. 

“Oh—alright! Thanks!” you waved at her, casting her an appreciative smile, and once she was out of sight, you turned back to Sunghoon, looking rather awkward at the sudden interruption. “I need to get going—”

“Right. I’m sorry for holding you up,”

“No, it’s okay. I’m … really glad I got to see you before going out there. I’m less nervous now,” 

“Really?”

“Really,”

A beat of silence filled the space between you right after. Internally, you were freaking out for admitting your thoughts so freely as you’ve just done. What was Sunghoon going to think now that you’ve said that? Would he interpret it as something else? What if—

“I’ll get going now. See you after the ceremony,”

“See you!”

There you went scurrying away from Sunghoon like a coward with your heart rate increasing, mentally cursing at yourself for your slip of a tongue. At any moment, you might as well confess your deeply hidden inner feelings to him. The gold medal, the pressure of winning and the expectations from everyone else could no longer amount to the stress of your true feelings towards Park Sunghoon. 

Even as you stood on the podium with everyone watching, you couldn’t bring yourself to take your mind off of Sunghoon. In the midst of the crowd, you could easily spot him together with your teammates. It was your moment, your victory, the few times you could call yourself a winner on a stage as big as this, but the only person you could think of was your best friend. 

The same best friend that grew up watching movies at your house, sometimes staying up too late just because you couldn't stop talking and wishing the night would never end. He was your best friend who would tell you stories about how one day you'd both be competing at the Olympics, and he was the one who'd hold your hand whenever you felt overwhelmed no matter where you were.

You had always thought those weird feelings you'd have in your heart were common everytime he said something to you or whenever he held your hands. Never once you thought those nights you stayed up with him, lying on your bedroom floor, talking about your futures where you stared at him with something other than platonic love in your eyes was odd. You remembered the time he laughed so hard until his eyes turned crescent shaped, and that was when you felt your heart skipping a beat, not knowing this wasn't as common as it seemed. 

It was not normal. None of those things were ever normal. All of them went flying over your head instead. In that moment, while the national anthem played in the background, you've come to finally realise you've always felt this way for Sunghoon since forever. Those years together were just you denying your feelings for him, avoiding the fear of ruining your friendship. Up until now, you still had that underlying fear especially with the fall out that happened. But your heart was screaming louder at you, clouding the fear and pushing you towards him.

With the applause and camera flashes going off, you forced a smile, the grip on the flowers and your medal tightened, because it finally dawned on you, the undeniable truth that you've suppressed for almost your life was emerging. 

You're in love with Park Sunghoon.

Nothing has been the same for you ever since coming to terms with the realisation that you romantically loved Sunghoon.

Your friends could tell you were acting a little off that day when you won your first medal, barely able to swallow down your food during dinner as you talked about Sunghoon. Even though you initially shrugged it off by saying it was just jet lag, it didn’t take long before you cracked and confessed the actual truth to your friends. Did they see it coming beforehand? Absolutely. Were they helpful? Not so. ‘Just tell him’, ‘I think he feels the same’ were the inputs from your friends that seemed to have made your head a mess.

You’ve always been brave. There were times where you had to face challenges thrown at you from every direction and somehow you managed to deal with them. For instance, you got through your injuries with courage and determination, nobody doubted that fact. But when it came to your feelings, bravery and determination was practically nonexistent, only quiet longing and pining existed.

“You better not beat yourself up over this,” the familiar words coming from Sunghoon who appeared beside you almost made you jump in surprise. 

Another silver medal won, another close chance to get gold, merely missing by a small margin. You wished to be as optimistic as you were at the beginning, but the disappointment seemed to have built up gradually. The reminder from Sunghoon made you smile upon realising that he had just repeated what you said to him before, it was a genuine smile unlike the one that you put on the podium. 

“I’ll try not to,” you removed the medal from your neck, clutching onto it in your hand. “After all, you did say a gold medal is coming soon, didn’t you?”

“I did. Don’t you remember we’re having the mixed medley relay in less than an hour?”

“Right. Our first event together,” your grip on your medal tightened unconsciously, the sudden awareness of your feelings towards him was causing your brain to haywire. Why now? “We haven’t competed together since we were fifteen,”

“I don’t think they saw I’m promising in mixed and men's medley,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he recalled the day he was announced to be replaced in the line up. “How ironic it is that I’m back to square one,”

“Must be fate, isn’t it? The domino effect that led us here,” you marvelled at the fact that your reconciliation with Sunghoon happened at the cost of Yeonjun’s demise. Sunghoon seemed to have caught onto the gist of the meaning behind your words, shaking his head and laughing quietly. 

“I hope Yeonjun’s doing fine,”

“He is. He’s just bummed that he had to miss the Olympics. I’m surprised at how nonchalant he is about it though,” 

“Maybe, maybe not. You’d never know. Anyway, I think we should get going, we need to get ready with the rest,” he gave your back a light pat, nodding his head over to where your coach and teammates stood, signalling for you to go there together. In less than thirty minutes, you’d be swimming in the mixed medley relay, not knowing what the outcome would be like against the other powerful teams, especially with Sunghoon as a replacement, it was impossible to predict anything. 

“What do you think might happen?” You couldn’t help wondering aloud as you and Sunghoon made your way, occasionally stealing glances at the pool where the current event was taking place.  

“It’s hard to say. I’ve never done this before and making it to the finals was already a miracle for someone who has little experience like me. I just hope this will be the moment,” he had a small pensive frown, eyebrows furrowed as if he was fighting with his thoughts internally. You instantly knew what he meant by ‘the moment’, the silver medal in your hand somehow becoming heavier at the longing for your shared desire of winning the gold medal.

Despite the tense atmosphere with the pressure to win the gold medal, you managed to let out a genuine, carefree laugh, looping your arm around Sunghoon’s in the heat of the moment. Unbeknownst to you, he tensed for a second and his eyes were flickering in panic at your touch. You turned to look at him, a wide, infectious grin plastered on your face, reminding Sunghoon of many moments you shared with him in the past, feeling a sudden surge of deja vu but also an unfamiliar sensation gripping at his chest. 

“With us together, I’m sure we’d be the protagonists of the world, like always.”

Walking out of the tunnel with you and your teammates names being announced to the whole arena to hear was a surreal moment. You had ignored the way your heart raced from the simplest action of holding Sunghoon’s hand for a split second when all of you raised your interlocked hands in greeting to the fans. It was torture to pretend you were completely normal even when Sunghoon casted you a smile right after you dropped your hands. It was almost as if he knew and was mocking you.

“Alright guys,” Anton started, taking the chance while all you were huddled together removing your tracksuits. “After our months of training together and from the results recorded each time, I’m sure we’ll be able to face this and get a medal home. Don’t think much, we’re going to win this,”

Anton, being the group’s hype man for every competition, didn’t fail to restore the heavy atmosphere yet again. The rest of you smiled at his encouraging words that were filled with confidence, making quiet cheers and taking turns to give him a grateful pat in the back. There were some wishes of good luck and last encouragements shared around the group before Anton took his position on the starting block, being the first to begin for the backstroke leg in the relay. 

The electronic buzz was no stranger to any of you by then. At the sound of it, every swimmer dived into the pool, swimming faced up with their arms moving in a windmill-like fashion. You could tell Yujin and Sunghoon were both holding their breaths, watching Anton and the two other swimmers fighting for the lead. Hell, you were too, wishing you could choose to close your eyes instead.

Before you knew it, Sunghoon was already making his way to the starting block to get in position. The time was ticking, you knew it was selfish but you couldn’t help yourself from grasping onto his hand, stopping him in his steps, catching him off guard like a deer in headlights. “Good luck,” it was nothing much, a simple expression just like any other, yet you couldn’t explain the reason why you had to tell it to him personally.

It wasn’t obvious, but from the looks of his expressions softening, melting into a relieved smile as if a huge boulder had been taken off his shoulders, Sunghoon seemed to have needed to hear it from you just as much as you needed to tell it to him. “Thank you. Really.”

You let go of his hand, watching as he took his position the same way as he had always done in practices. There was a sense of calmness around him. He fixed his swim cap once, pulling on his goggles after, strictly in a particular order that he followed since the start of his career. His small habits and the superstitions he believed in never changed even after all those years.  

The moment Anton was nearing, Sunghoon dived into the pool. Your head snapped to the leaderboard displayed on the big screen, heart nearly stopping at the sight of the team being in first place at that moment. Yujin followed your sight, letting out a breath of disbelief. You turned to meet her eyes, exchanging a knowing look and placed your arms around the other. Nothing could compare to the anxiety you were feeling as the person who was going last.

Yujin was the next to dive into the pool after Sunghoon reached the starting point. He climbed out, absolutely drenched and breathing heavily from the swim. Anton went up to him and gave him a wordless squeeze to the shoulder, letting Sunghoon catch his breath first while they watched the scene unfolding before them. 

Soon, it was your cue to get in position on the starting block. Anton patted your shoulder, saying a haste ‘good luck’ once more as you made your way there. Sunghoon was quiet, he knew you more than anyone would, and in that exact second, he understood that you didn’t need another word of encouragement. Instead, he held onto your hand, squeezing it tightly, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he nodded his head, a slight smile on his lips. That was truly all you needed from him.

The feeling when you pulled your goggles over your head, eyes facing straight on the water was simply unexplainable, complex even. It was the same as it had been for days, months, years, but this time, in this exact instant, why did everything feel different? Was it because of the lead and the pressure to uphold it as the person in the last leg? You shook away every one of those intrusive thoughts, focusing on Yujin getting closer. 

Just as she got close enough, you knew it was your cue to dive into the pool, letting the water engulf you whole as you kicked your legs, propelling yourself upward to the surface. Your hands and legs were working in tandem, going over the limit to execute your best movement. Every intake of air was scarce, filling your lungs with the right amount as you turned your head each time. 

Before you knew it, you had already reached one point, executing a swift flip turn, then you were swimming towards the starting point, towards the end of the relay. You had no idea what was happening above the water, whether or not you were still maintaining the lead, all you could was empty your mind and swim despite the tiredness wearing you down after having to compete in another event earlier on. You finally understood the struggles of having two finals in a day that your teammates would constantly complain about at that moment. 

You didn’t dare to move your head a single inch, maintaining the perfect position as you swam even though you were curious how far you were from the other end of the wall. Time was slow when you were the one swimming, the concept of everything happening around you was unknown to you. Your heart dropped to your stomach the second you felt your finger lightly brush against the wall, instantly gripping onto the edge with overwhelming suspense to know what the results were. You were holding your breath as you resurfaced, ears muffled for a split second before you were swarmed with your teammates who all crouched by you, barely having the chance to spare a glance at the leaderboard.

“We won! We fucking won!” Yujin shouted, barely containing her emotions as tears started streaming down her face, swim cap gripped tightly in her hands. 

“We did it. Oh my God,” Anton exclaimed, letting his own emotions overwhelm him as he buried his face into his hands, not budging when Yujin wrapped her arms around him.

Sunghoon reached his hand out to you, his eyes were rimmed with a soft crimson hue, the redness highlighting the raw vulnerability within that he tried so hard to mask. The lashes glistened with unshed tears, and the whites of his eyes seemed to shimmer, revealing the depth of his unspoken feelings. Each blink threatened to spill over, this moment was what you and him have been waiting for. “We finally did it. We made it.”

You accepted his hand, allowing him to help you out of the water, but before he could fully stand straight, you had already pounced on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. Sunghoon melted into your touch, holding you close to him with his arms around you with no space left for you to move. The leaderboard was turning blurry in your vision that was gradually filling with tears, your grip on him tightening and your head leaned onto his shoulder, tears mixing with the pool water on his skin. 

He pulled away for a moment, hands still holding onto you, never wanting to let go for just a split second. There was nothing said, yet you could feel every emotion he was trying to convey through his eyes. Those shaking hands of his travelled from your waist to your face, cradling it in them, the softness of his palm pressed against your skin. It was fast, him leaning in to press a kiss that lasted longer than a second, the aftermath of it being you and him staring at each other with a mixed reaction of surprise and softness. Before you could say anything, he pulled you back into a hug, wrapping his arms around you tighter than ever. 

The cheers around you were drowned out, the presence of the other swimmers were long forgotten, all you could think of was you and Sunghoon only. As you held onto each other as if there was no tomorrow, you never knew how impactful this win was to you and him. If either of you had won your first gold medal in your individual events, everything would’ve turned out differently. But with this shared win, the long awaited gold medal win that you and him swore to achieve together, your dreams had come true, and it was done side by side. 

Standing on the podium next to your teammates and most importantly, the person that you’ve been through thick and thin with, receiving the gold medal that hung around your neck perfectly, you wondered if it was all a daydream. You reached for Sunghoon’s hand, slipping yours into his that he instinctively accepted, glancing at you with the widest smile in his face that was immediately burned into your brain, an image that was impossible to recreate. It was real, everything was real. The win, the feeling of victory, your unwavering feelings for the man that was holding onto your hand tightly, all of those were equally real. 

“What should we do to celebrate?” Anton had his eyes glued on his gold medal the rest of the day, unable to store it away for just a second. Every one of you thought he might’ve already developed an attachment to it.

“Sleep, rest. We still have our last day tomorrow,” Yujin let out a massive yawn, muscles worn out for the time being to even be able to muster any leftover energy. Unfortunately, you had no choice but to agree with her, the only one who seemed to have enough energy to celebrate was Anton.

“Right, the men and women’s medley relay finals,” Anton murmured, his enthusiasm for a celebration was crushed after realising he still had one more event to go before being able to celebrate fully. “Ready for another round, Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon, who only looked rather dreadful at the mention of their next and last event, showed a frown as a response, thinking about the possibilities that would emerge from the big event. “I’m scared. China and the US … France—”

Anton, carefree as always, slapped Sunghoon in the back. “Don’t be pessimistic, we’ll be fine. Isn’t that true, Y/N?”

You averted your attention away from the screen of your phone, looking up and unknowingly meeting Sunghoon’s eyes almost at once. It was unexpected, the intensity of his stare was all you needed to know that he had been stealing glances at you before this. The suddenness of it made you fluster for a second, nearly forgetting what Anton had just said. “Y–yeah, you guys will be fine. The team medalled at the world championships anyway,”

“You hear that? Don’t worry about tomorrow. Let’s bask in the glory!” Anton threw his arms around Sunghoon, successfully stealing his attention and giving you a chance to look away, calming your heart that was beating out of control. 

Taking down one challenge at a time for your forte. With a gold medal secured, you’ve succeeded at the main task at hand. Now that your biggest obstacle was gone, there came another tumbling towards you: Park Sunghoon. You swore to yourself you’d get a gold medal first before dealing with that, and since you’ve always been someone who stuck to your words, it seemed to have come to haunt you instead.

Mission ‘tell Sunghoon how you feel’ was about to be tougher and scarier, probably a much higher chance of a heartbreak than any competitions you’d have ever participated in. 

Who would’ve known that the Olympics had ended as fast as it started. One day you were just arriving at the village and the next thing you knew, you’re in the airport waiting for your flight home. Four medals won, a friendship mended, many unforgettable memories made, all of which happened in the course of a few months leading up to the Olympics and also the weeks that you spent in Paris.

“What’s in your mind?” Sunghoon crept up to the empty seat next to you in the lounge as everyone waited to board the flight. You turned your head to the direction of his voice, your body instantaneously reacting to him before your mind could fully process his presence. 

“I’m just thinking about how quick this whole Olympics passed by,” you leaned your back onto the seat, Sunghoon following your action without removing his gaze on you. 

“Isn’t it crazy how training started a few months ago?” Sunghoon chuckled at the thought of his first day in a new team that totally freaked him out. That entire nonchalant persona he put on was a complete facade, though he would never admit it aloud. “And now you’re going home with four medals,”

“Says the man who has five,” you nudged his shoulder with yours in a lighthearted manner, exchanging a brief smile with him. “It’s weird how six years of us not talking feels like it never happened before, like it was some kind of blip in the matrix. I’m glad we’re able to patch things up and go back to the way it was,”

“Me too. I missed this. I missed us,” it was odd, the way Sunghoon looked at you with emotions that you’d never seen, the vulnerability breaking through his voice, everything felt intimate, too intimate for just a simple conversation in the middle of an airport with everyone around. He took your hand and placed it in his, soft eyes crinkled in the corners with a gentle smile that he always had around you. “Once we’re back home, how about you and I take a short trip to our hometown again? Just the both of us like the last time,”

Staring at him, you were quite stunned, blinking feverishly, and at the same time, the feelings that you tried to shake off so many times were returning at that exact second. “I’d love to. We can grab our favourite lunch set like always,” 

Sunghoon snorted, but he was nodding along despite the amusement. “You’re right. We didn’t get that when we were there that day,”

“I forgot! Plus, we had lunch with our family, I’m sure the overdue reminiscing can wait for a little longer,”

“That is why we’re going to go back for a week or more, do the things we always did and visit the places we went when we were kids,” Sunghoon snapped his fingers, staring at you with sparkling eyes. You could tell he really did miss home and his hometown with you in it. “Do you remember the secret hideout we had? The one in the park?”

“You mean the swing?” you smiled at the mention of your shared memories, remembering bits and pieces of it that has yet to be brought up until then.

“Yes, our swing,” Sunghoon enunciated the word ‘our’, a cheeky grin plastered on his lips that told you he was about to say something abysmal. “I really want to go back to that spot with you. Do you still remember that one time you dragged me there at night sobbing because the coach said you’re off by two seconds?”

“Oh my God, shut up,” you landed a hit on Sunghoon’s shoulder, the latter continued to laugh at the fond memory, ignoring your eye roll. His laughter and his smile that reached all the way up to his eyes made you feel fuzzy inside, the picture of it was eternally imprinted onto your mind. “I was such an overachiever,”

“You still are,” he managed to say in between laughters, gradually settling down and unbeknownst to you, his shoulder was pressed against yours, the gap between you and him were becoming nonexistent. “That is why you’re an Olympic champion,”

You shook your head, waving your hand at him. “Please, don’t flatter me and my ego,”

“It’s true! You really are amazing, you know that?” Sunghoon exclaimed, not a single trace of dishonesty was found in his words, his expressions showing genuinity. If he was able to read minds, he would’ve heard your mind yelling at you right after that. You were short circuiting, unable to generate a response. “In my whole life of knowing you, you’re truly one of the best, both in terms of swimming and simply as a person. You’re smart, kind, talented a–and everything. Frankly, you’re my favourite person,” 

Are you in love with me? Because I’m in love with you too. You wanted to spill that out of your mouth, vomit your inner thoughts and feelings that you held in for so long, wishing you could make it clear to him how you actually feel and stop yourself from continuously confusing everything. What did he mean by all of that? Was it a casual compliment? To you, none of that was casual and normal. What kind of signals was he trying to give? 

“Thank you,” you were breathless, simply because you were barely breathing and you had been holding your breath in ever since the start of his rant. “Y–you’re amazing too, really. Nobody could ever amount to you … you’re my one and only,” was this a suitable time and place to confess your undying love for him, your childhood best friend that you had feelings for? In this airport filled with athletes, being in the city of love, with the clock ticking down to 11:11, you were about to do the unthinkable that you’ve been overthinking for countless nights. “I have something to say, actually. Sunghoon, I actually am in—”

“Guys! Time to gather and board!”

F.M.L.

“What is it?” Sunghoon stared at you expectantly, eyebrows raised in suspense with a slight frown at the sudden interruption. You, on the other hand, were left with your mouth agape, confession cut short and the perfect timing that you deduced ended up being in vain. There was no way that this was reality. “Y/N?”

“I–I’ll tell you another day. We have to board,” you gripped onto the strap of your backpack tight enough to drain the blood from your knuckles. The disappointment was on par with the times you lost your lead. 

“Is it something important?”

“Well, sort of? I guess it is,”

“Then you better remember to tell me when you’re ready, okay?” he wagged his finger at you, smiling softly as if he had noticed the drop in your face and was trying to assure you somehow.

“I will. Let’s get going now.” you patted his back, nodding over at the counter where the athletes were getting their tickets scanned and managing to divert his attention away. 

‘I’m in love with you’. It’s simple and straightforward, there’s nothing hard about it for you to say, but why couldn’t you tell him that? Even when you tried to do so, it ended up being in a pile of mess, leaving you dejected in the end. 

Since when has loving your best friend become so hard? You’ve been doing it for the majority of your life, the only difference was that you were aware that it’s romantic now, so what’s stopping you? Time? Or was it yourself? Maybe it's the fear of vulnerability that feels so heavy. Every shared laugh, every secret whispered in the dark, suddenly carries the weight of possibility. What if these feelings are too big to fit within the bounds of friendship? And yet, isn't love, in all its forms, worth the risk?  

You were scared, scared of losing the person you just got back and also the possibility of loving someone who knew your strengths and weaknesses too well.

“You never told me he tried to hit on you while we were there,”

It was the third day of your one week trip back to your hometown with Sunghoon. After the last two days of being stuck with your own families and having to entertain relatives who were too inquisitive, you and him finally got the chance to hang out together without any prying eyes. Getting out of the city once you were done with your public appearances was the perfect plan, it didn’t take Sunghoon long before sending you a text telling you to pack your bags. If only he knew how relieved you felt seeing him pull up to your house like prince charming coming to save the day.

Sunghoon wasn’t kidding when he mentioned about revisiting your secret hideout. It was right after dinner, the sun had set and the wind was cooler, Sunghoon’s jacket was wrapped around your body despite his constant nagging.   The night sky was littered with constellations of stars above you and Sunghoon, the two of you were sitting on the swings, the park was mostly empty except for a few lingering figures.  

“I didn’t think it’s important,” you muttered, holding onto the swing that you’ve sat on ever since you were only a kid, specifically the right swing while Sunghoon occupied the left. 

“It is! It’s literally Thomas Ceccon. He’s Italian, tall and hot…” Sunghoon trailed off at the sight of you staring at him with an expression of deadpan, clearly unimpressed.

“Sounds like you’re the one with the crush instead,”

Sunghoon pressed his lips into a thin line, sighing out a rather loud and big breath. “Whatever. What I’m trying to say is … it’s just frustrating, okay? I mean, I’ve heard some things about him before that tells me he isn’t the best person. It’s like he thinks he has a chance or something. You don’t even need that kind of attention. You’re way too good for him,” he shifted his gaze, unable to look at you head-on. 

You searched for his wandering eyes, the shock you experienced from his words and the harshness in his tone that you would seldom hear gave you a slight whiplash. Was he …? Could it be? Jealousy? There was no way, or so you thought whenever you tried to convince yourself that your feelings were one-sided. The small hope burning internally sparked brighter, though the fear of letting yourself down if the truth turned out to be the opposite of what you wanted lingered. “You worry too much. I don’t think about him that way. I … have someone else in mind anyway,”

“You do?” his spine straightened immediately, head almost getting snapped from his neck at how quick he turned towards you, eyebrows raised so high they were almost touching his hairline. 

You nodded, strangely calm and collected, unlike the usual jitters that you’d experienced around him whenever you’re close to revealing the truth. “Someone who gets me, who knows how to make me laugh. Someone who sees me for who I really am,” you paused, your gaze steady. “But I guess he’s just too oblivious to notice,”

Silence was what followed after, the suspenseful tension turning thicker by the minute. You watched his expressions being scrunched up in deep thought then changing into a mix of confusion that eventually morphed into realisation where he might begin to piece the little things together. “What—no—are you … trying to say—”

“Forget it,” you blurted out, standing up from the swing, feeling your heart burning from your own fear and avoidant. You were close, so agonisingly close and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to face the possibilities of the aftermath. It was always you who chose to break your heart first.   

“No, tell me,” Sunghoon got a hold of your wrist before you could get the chance to walk away, following you suit to stand and facing you straight, never once breaking his gaze that was locked onto yours. You were startled from the grip he had on you, the intensity he had in his eyes felt almost palpable, as if he were searching for the words that had lodged themselves in his throat. “Tell me, am I the oblivious one? Is that what you think? Because I’ve been feeling like I’m walking on eggshells around you, afraid to say what I really want. If you’re hinting at something, just say it. I can’t keep pretending I don’t care or be completely sane when I see some sleazy swimmer trying to approach you, it drives me crazy,” 

The heat of his gaze burned through the air between you and him, a mixture of vulnerability and determination that made it hard to look away. Every emotion he felt flickered across his features—fear, longing, and an urgent need for you to understand. It was as if, in that moment, the world around you and him faded, leaving only the raw connection pulsing in the space between your breaths.

“Please, just tell me,” he urged, his voice low and urgent after seeing your silence. “I need to know if I’m the one you’re talking about or if I’ve been chasing shadows all this time. Because if there’s even a chance you mean me, then I can’t just let this go,” He stepped closer, vulnerability etched on his face. “I’ve been scared to say anything, afraid of ruining what we have. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something more. So, just… say it. Please.”

“Do you really want to know?” you took a breath, your heart racing, knowing you were putting whatever it was about your friendship on the line. “Because if I say it, things might change between us. You’re my best friend … and I just can’t lose you like this,”

Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, evidently frustrated but trying his best to understand your fears. He could see right through you, you and him were alike in many ways, it didn’t take long for him to realise you were scared of losing him again, because to him, that was his fear too. “God, I hate that word,”

“‘Lose’?”

“‘Friend’,” Sunghoon practically spat out, the word alone was laced with distaste, his chest heaving. He took a step closer, his legs were feeling heavy, the weight pressing onto his chest was becoming apparent. You didn’t budge even when his hands travelled to your face, palms rested on both sides of your cheeks. “Can’t you see? I’ve laid my heart out for you,”

“Then let’s stop pretending,” you said, your voice was quiet but steady despite the storm in your heart. “It’s you, Sunghoon. It’s always been you. I’ve tried to ignore it, to push it aside because I didn’t want to risk what we have. But every time I’m with you, it’s like nothing else matters. I’m scared too—terrified of losing you, but I can’t hide my feelings anymore. You mean so much more to me than just a friend,” you poured out every single undying confession that you had hid as if your life depended on it, desperation and pining was overwhelming you as time passed. “I’m in love with you, Sunghoon, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved you,” 

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and something deeper shimmering in his gaze, he froze for a moment, his breath hitching as your words sank in. A rush of emotions flickered across his face—shock, disbelief, and then a dawning realisation that made his heart race. He searched your eyes, looking for confirmation, as if needing to ensure that this wasn’t some beautiful dream. A smile broke through the haze of confusion, a mix of relief and joy. “I’m glad … because I’ve never once stopped loving you either,”

For a heartbeat, the world around you and him seemed to pause, your confession hanging in the air like a delicate thread connecting your hearts. Then, as if pulled by an invisible force, he closed the distance between the two of you even further, his hand remained gently cradling your face.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your lips. You felt your pulse quicken, anticipation and fear intertwining as you still couldn’t believe this was actually happening. With a softness that took your breath away, he pressed his lips to yours. It was a tentative kiss at first, filled with all the unspoken words you and him both had held back for too long. But as you melted into each other, the kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more passionate, as if you and him were finally allowing yourselves to feel everything you had been denying.

In that moment, the weight of your fears and the uncertainty of the past faded away, leaving only the electric connection between you and Sunghoon, igniting a fire that had always been there, waiting for this moment to finally ignite.

It was unmistakable, the feeling of his smile against your lips, the same smile that you had kept in your mind ever since you were merely kids. Your best friend, your lover, was undeniably your soulmate, the boy who you’ve loved since you were merely a kid had returned to your life as if it was fated for it to happen. 

The smile was still present on his face even after he pulled away, the look in his eyes was enough to convey every emotion that he had. Foreheads resting against each other, breathless and overwhelmed by the intensity of what had just happened, Sunghoon’s eyes searched yours, a mix of wonder and disbelief lingering in the air between the both of you. He looked at you with such love, adoration and admiration as if you were his world, unaware how full his heart truly was. 

“You know, that day at the airport, remember the important thing I wanted to tell you?” you were the first to break the silence, hands resting on each of his shoulders, mainly for support knowing your knees were getting weaker as you continued to process what had just happened. 

“I do,”

“I actually wanted to confess to you about how I feel,”

“Really? In the middle of the airport? L/N, you never fail to amuse me,” Sunghoon chuckled, his thumb caressing the expanse of your cheek. Another choke of laughter was pulled out from him when you attempted to land a punch on him.

“Hey! I thought it was a good setting, the vibes were telling me so,”

His smile only widened, there was a sense of softness that he had in his eyes whenever he was around you, this was one of those instances. “I think I wouldn’t have made it onto that flight if you pulled that on me. We would’ve never made it home,”

“You’re right. It really would’ve been quite disastrous, wouldn’t it? I never thought about the entire outcome,”

“I wouldn’t complain spending a longer time in Paris with you,” he removed his forehead from yours, his features becoming much clearer under the glow of the streetlight. His expression softened, a seriousness returning as he took your hands in his. “This feels right. We’ve been more than just friends for a while now, haven’t we? ”

“Yeah,” you replied, your heart swelling with hope as you recalled every little, detailed moment with Sunghoon that made you rethink your life choices. “It really does, ”

A moment of silence hung between you and him, filled with the promise of something new and exciting. “So… what do we do now?” you asked, a playful grin on your lips, eager to explore this new chapter together as you always did with him for most parts of your life.

He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your hand. “Well, I guess we figure it out together. No more hiding, right?”

“Right.” you agreed, your smile widening as you stepped into the unknown, hand in hand, ready to embrace whatever came next. 

Under that night sky which you and Sunghoon had shared and walked under all your life, the two of you spent the rest of your time in that park in each others’ presence, the air around had changed undoubtedly, but you and him were still the same, there was nothing that could possibly change when it came to the two of you. 

The stars were shining brighter than usual, the moon was round and illuminated, the endless possibilities were now unfolding before you. With every shared laugh and whispered secret, the world around you felt alive, filled with promise and the magic of new beginnings. As you walked side by side, fingers intertwined, it was clear that this moment was just the beginning of a new path you’d be taking with him.

Under that vast expanse, you realised that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you had each other—two hearts that had always been drawn together. In the quiet of the night, surrounded by the glow of the universe, you felt a warmth blooming between you, a certainty that whatever the future held, you would face it together, side by side.

Two months. 

That was how long it had been since that night you and Sunghoon got together officially, ending the lengthy and obvious tension that existed way before you and him became friends again. Since then, many things have changed and happened. Sunghoon had returned to train under his original coach, the team’s success was celebrated by the nation from the point you’ve returned from the Olympics and praise has yet to stop in the tabloid with the additional excitement for the swimming world cup. Not only that, you revealed your relationship with Sunghoon to friends and family, receiving exciting screams and some ‘I knew it’ that you should’ve known was coming. Everything was finally perfectly in place. 

Fast forward to the present day, you couldn’t believe you were actually standing on top of the world. It was the last day of the final stop of the world cup, the aggregate points from all three separate stops were counted to determine the top three male and female swimmers. Safe to say, ever since the Olympics, your drive for success only came out stronger. It was your determination and headstrong personality that drove you past your limits to emerge as the champion of the world cup. 

Walking out to the stage and accepting the medal was a surreal experience, you wished someone was there to pinch you and remind you none of it was a dream. Never once in the course of the past weeks have you expected yourself to come out in first place with the highest points. Here you were, standing on stage with your fellow swimmers, facing the fans and giving your speeches, proving yet again that you were indeed the ‘national treasure’.

At the thought of that name, your attention averted towards the stands, scanning through everyone to find the person that you’ve been wishing to see most. Instead, a big sign that read ‘MY GF’S A WORLD CHAMPION’ caught your eyes, the person that was holding onto it peeked out from behind the sign, revealing his true identity, bringing an amused smile onto your face. Park Sunghoon, your boyfriend who has forfeited the last stop for the sake of his health, had never once missed a single event that you were in. You dared to say that he was your biggest supporter, not only for this instance, but for the majority of your life.

As your eyes locked onto Sunghoon’s, the noise of the crowd faded into a soft hum, leaving only the warmth of his smile and the fluttering in your heart. You didn’t need him close to feel his warmth, you could tell from the pride and affection hidden in his eyes that you were about to get the biggest hug when he got his hands on you. You raised a hand, waving enthusiastically, and he responded with a playful flourish of the sign, drawing laughter from those around him. 

In that moment, everything felt right. The adrenaline from your win mixed with the comfort of his unwavering support, filling you with utmost comfort that you needed all along, making every sore limb and painful nights worth it. Even if you were out there alone, you knew, in the midst of every crowd, there always would be someone present, cheering for you no matter what the circumstances were.

That person would be Sunghoon. The man who you would call your best friend, your confidant, but also your lover. It might’ve taken a while to struggle past your differences and misunderstandings, yet, you managed against the tides washing over you and him, building a bond that surpassed everything. Not only was there trust and admiration, but an unmeasurable kind of love was formed. It would be eternal, an everlasting love that couldn’t be washed away, leaving you and him together for as long as you lived.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

[lnfours]

close to you | l.n

summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.

warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there

jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍

masterlist | listen to the playlist

before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.

to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.

that was until you met him.

the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.

You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.

sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.

but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.

it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.

until pietra confirmed your suspicions.

“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”

you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”

she scoffed, “more like know so,”

“who told you?”

“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”

you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”

but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.

ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.

he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.

and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.

he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.

so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.

he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”

your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“

“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”

how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.

and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.

as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.

he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.

“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”

your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”

he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”

there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.

the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.

he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.

he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.

he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”

you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”

“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.

you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.

you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.

“hey, lando! long time no see!”

you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.

“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.

“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.

“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“

“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”

what was that supposed to mean?

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“

“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”

you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.

“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.

“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”

lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”

you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”

you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”

“up to your room, huh?”

you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”

“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.

“yeah, we can put it that way.”

he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.

he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.

“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”

he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”

you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.

finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”

he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”

you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”

he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.

the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.

you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”

you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.

“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”

“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”

you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.

he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.

his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”

your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”

he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”

his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.

“never mind, it’s dumb-“

“lando,”

“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“

you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.

it was too late now, no going back.

you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.

“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“

it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.

you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.

when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.

“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.

“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.

“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”

“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”

you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”

“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”

you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”

“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.

[delilahsturniolo]

i love you, i’m sorry

— m.s

in which . . . matt accidentally confesses something he shouldn’t have in the heat of an argument.

genre/trope . . . enemies to lovers, angst. (resolved)

warnings . . . arguing, kissing & more.

written by . . . @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or re use my works. do not take inspiration without asking permission first. happy reading! :)

“lay on the horn to prove that it haunts me.”

“i love you i’m sorry.”

you and matt have known each other your entire lives, which was unfortunate for the both of you. you may be asking yourself, if you’ve known each other for so long shouldn’t you be best friends?

well, it was quite the opposite actually. you and matt have hated each other for whatever reason, it was a rivalry between you two. you guys couldn’t even be in the same room without bickering, when your family and matt’s family hung out it was absolute hell for you.

all you wanted was to avoid matt at all costs, no matter the circumstances. however, you always got along with matt’s brothers.

you and matt never had a reason to hate each other, in fact you tried being nice to him sometimes. you both just never got along, bickering and complaining about each other 24/7. if you got a dollar for how much you both piss each other off everyday, you’d be filthy rich.

but, matt wasn’t a complete jerk. he didn’t completely despise you, sometimes he held the door open for you. other times, he would slam it shut in your face. matt absolutely adored teasing you, and doing small gestures just to make you annoyed at him. that was something he never failed at.

you had sort of a mixed and unsure feeling about matt. you were confused, you didn’t know how he felt about you. did he hate you, or not? even better question, did you truly hate him?

yes, of course you did. you were supposed to, you can’t love him. but…you felt something different over the past few weeks. as much as you hated to admit it, nowadays you didn’t mind his presence. just a few months ago, you’d rather get hit by a bus than be near him. but other days, he pissed you off more than anything. you hated him…but you didn’t at the same time.

you didn’t know what this feeling was, it made you sick. falling for your childhood enemy? it was impossible, it couldn’t happen. you hated it, you couldn’t make it stop. all you could do was push down your true feelings, and keep pretending.

so now here you were, in the present. it was pretty late in the night. you were at the triplets house, in the kitchen. nick was out for a space camp photoshoot, while chris was sleeping in his room.

you leaned against the counter, scrolling mindlessly on your phone as you popped a potato chip in your mouth, feeling the salty sensation sink on your tongue. quietly humming to yourself, you took in the peaceful silence. that is, until you heard the front door open.

matt walked in the house, going right into the kitchen. he huffed as he saw you, rolling his eyes. you bit your lip, not even acknowledging him.

matt walked over to the counter, shoving you over with his body so he could get by. you grunted, your phone clattering to the floor.

“dude, can you not?” you scoffed, pissed off as you picked your phone up from the floor. matt turned on the sink, beginning to wash the dishes.

“can you not with the attitude?” matt mocked you, not even batting you an eye. usually you would just flip him off and leave, but you didn’t this time. you wanted to confront him, show him that you weren’t a pussy.

to the both of you, arguing was a competition. you would just keep going on and on until one of you backed down, and usually it would be you. however, not this time.

“i don’t have a fucking attitude.” you crossed your arms, the back of his head facing you as he aggressively scrubbed a plate. you were testing his limits, and you found pleasure in that.

“whatever floats your boat.” matt shrugged, laughing to himself. “do you always have to be so annoying?” he continued, which only provoked you more.

you rolled your eyes and sealed the bag of chips shut. “do you always have to be so mean to me all the time?” you shot back at him. matt turned off the sink water, wiping his hands before turning around to face you. “i’m not mean, sweetheart. come on, is that all you got?” matt teased you, knowing it would make you annoyed.

“shut up!” you raised your voice at him slightly, making him scoff in disbelief.

“what the fuck is your problem?” matt raised his voice back at you, you weren’t in the mood for this right now. your frustration was building up by every passing second.

“you, matt! you’re my problem!” you shouted back at him.

“my fucking goodness, y/n. you’re always starting shit, aren’t you?” matt complained, throwing his hands up in the frustration. you simply said nothing.

“what? cat got your tongue?” matt darkly chuckled. you rolled your eyes, starting to walk away. matt only followed after you.

you stomped outside into the driveway, it was the dead of night. you suddenly felt matt grab your arm, turning you around to face him.

“let me go, matt.” you spoke fiercely, trying to yank away from him. his grip only grew tighter, he completely ignored your protests.

“y/n, stop it. listen to me.” matt told you, you only shook your head.

“get away from me, matt. i hate you.” you remarked, matt shook his head. “no you don’t.” he pulled you closer.

the cold wind blew in your hair, matt’s eyes pierced into yours. “what are you talking about?” you questioned him.

“you don’t hate me.” matt shrugged, you weren’t even trying to pull away from him anymore. something was drawing you to him, and you didn’t mind it for once.

“yes i do! you don’t care about me!” you argued back, matt completely snapped at you.

“of course i care, y/n! how could i not care? i care more than anything in the world.” he shouted.

“since when did you start caring about me!?” you scoffed in disbelief.

“since fucking forever, you idiot!”

and those exact words, the moment they came out of his mouth silenced you. which by the way, was a rare occurrence. your lips parted slightly. “what?” you murmured.

matt let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i love you, okay? i love you so fucking much, goddamnit! i’m sorry i fell in love, i can’t do shit about it and…i didn’t want it to happen, y/n.” matt blurted out. what? this was the absolute last thing you were expecting.

“you…what?” you spoke softly. your mind was racing with a million thoughts at once. matt was in love with you? your heart began to beat faster as you looked into his eyes.

“you think i wanted this to happen? trust me, i’m just as confused as you.” matt’s voice broke. you both stood across from each other, goosebumps raising onto your arms.

“i love you too, matt.” you whispered. matt’s gaze immediately softened.

“but…the thing is i can’t. i can’t love you. it won’t work out. we can’t be together and you know that.” you muttered, looking away from him as you said that.

“you don’t get it. it’s not that easy to lose feelings for you, if i could i would. i can’t lose feelings for someone i’ve loved for so fucking long.” matt’s voice came out shaky as he expressed all of his emotions.

you sighed, stepping closer to him. he looked down at you, his eyes growing glossy. your hand traveled up his chest and to the side of his neck, matt’s breath hitched at this action.

before he even knew what was going on, you leaned in, pulling him in for a kiss.

both of your lips connected, your heart felt full, as if you had been needing this your entire life. matt groaned against your lips as the kiss grew more and more passionate, more hungry.

you both wanted this badly, you craved each other more than anything. this felt so wrong in your brain, but yet so fucking right in your heart.

matt’s hands gripped your waist tightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips continued to dance with his, you felt his soft and supple lips crash against yours once more.

matt pulled away from the kiss, not letting go of you though. you looked up at him, a smirk creeping up on your face.

“mmm..you’re not so bad after all.” matt hummed, his finger lifing your chin up with dominance.

“i’m gonna murder you, sturniolo.” you teased, matt only chuckled, his hand moving to your cheek, caressing the skin gently.

“you wouldn’t.” matt smiled down at you, before leaning into your face once more, his lips colliding with yours again.

maybe loving him wasn’t so bad after all.

© delilahsturniolo

join the taglist here! ✉️

[imfoive]

One and Only - A Snippet

Felix x Reader (fem.) Genre: Forbidden Love au! Angst, Romance, childhood friends-to-lovers, slow-burn WC: 357 Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The young master had finally returned home from abroad, only to find himself inexplicably drawn to the daughter of the family’s servant, his once-childhood friend. As children they were oblivious to the weight of wealth, ranks, social status. As adults they were painfully aware of such divide. Still, they couldn’t help but let their gazes wander, their touches linger. A charged connection that neither could deny the existence of, one that may just dare to rewrite the rules.

A SNIPPET ────────────────────

Y/N had recognized him instantly.

Even after all these years. Although it would have been ridiculous to ever forget that face in the first place. His unique looks were still as striking as ever, if not even more breathtakingly beautiful.

But it was clear that he had grown. The passage of time is evident in him, in the way he carried himself, in his expressions. His face was sharper, slimmer. With a maturity in the slight crinkles under his eyes whenever he broke into a wide grin or a toothy smile. His slightly long, dark hair was styled neatly, pushed back to reveal his bright complexion, his freckles still as prominent, perhaps had even grown in the number of specks. 

The way he laughed was still the same, yet the sound bellowed with an low echo. Maybe even deeper than she had last remembered. When she had heard it, she had to do a double-take to make sure it was in fact a sound that was coming out from him.

He hadn’t changed. Yet, nothing about him seemed to be the same.

The last time she had seen him he was a head of bleached blonde hair, shorter by a few more inches, and much quieter than he appeared now. 

She wondered if this time around, he remembered her.

He hadn’t back then. 

Although, there were a lot of things he didn’t remember back then. From the layout of his childhood home to some of the servants in the mansion that he had once frolicked around as a child, he couldn’t remember the last time he was here.  

Maybe he would this time. He seemed to have when he had entered the house, his eyes glancing over everything that had changed since he had last seen it, pointing to a certain part that he recalled doing this or that in, unchanged in his eyes.

Sometimes as one gets older, they remember the smallest of things from their childhoods, things that resurface randomly when they do something that triggers a memory.

Nostalgia hitting them with its crashing waves.

It’s how she felt ever since he had arrived this time around. Ever since she had heard his name, mind automatically taking her back to that summer.

Though he didn’t even spare her an extra glance with that nostalgic gaze, eyes trailing past her as he reintroduced himself to everyone that surrounded him.

It made sense that he didn’t.

She wasn’t surprised he didn’t remember.

Why should he anyways?

Who was she for him to keep note of her name?

Of who she was?

Besides being the estate keeper’s daughter, she had no other importance, no other value.

But still, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt, a bitterness creeping down her throat. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ coming soon.

── ask to be tagged! - @minh0scat, @qwonyoung23, @thecutiepieme, @tirena1, @fixation-dump, @jehhskz, @chrisbangsass

[delulustateofmind]

Childhood

Description: Childhood friends to...? Geto Suguru x Reader

TW: ANGST, NO HAPPY ENDING, Mentions of abuse (physical and implied sexual), Blood, Bullying. Reader dies.

WC: 6.6k (yeesh)

A/n: I love a good childhood friends to lovers trope for Suguru. It just fits him. I might post the draft where reader lives, but I might just keep that locked away, who knows.

You remember the first day you met Geto Suguru.

Your next-door neighbor with boyish charm, he wasn't shy by any means. He didn’t have the long, flowing hair he does now; instead, he sported a short buzzcut for the summer, a style that made him look mischievous and carefree. His violet eyes, striking even then, seemed almost too bright for the hot days when the cicadas sang their relentless chorus, a contrast to the warmth of his presence. You remember how he would grab your hand with an excitement that buzzed through your skin, dragging you around the playground, his laughter breaking through the sticky summer air like a sudden, refreshing breeze.

You also remember the rainy days that painted the world in shades of gray, days when the air smelled of damp earth and rain pattered softly against your small umbrella. Suguru would stand in front of you, brows furrowed in concentration as he tied your raincoat around you. He would bite his tongue, the tip of it peeking out, as he fumbled with the stubborn knots and clasps. You were both in kindergarten, small and unbothered by anything except the world you built together. He’d let out a triumphant sigh, eyes crinkling as he said, “There, now you won’t get sick!” His voice carried a blend of childish authority and genuine care that made your heart flutter even then. Before you could respond, he would take your hand, smaller and warmer than the rain-slick world around you, and pull you toward the river stream where frogs waited like emerald treasures.

You recall how gently he’d scoop up a tiny green frog, holding it as though it were the most delicate thing in the world. His eyes would widen in wonder, as if seeing magic for the first time, and he’d look back at you with a smile that spoke of shared secrets. “Don’t touch it, we only look...okay?” The sincerity in his voice left no room for argument. He was always protective, even in the small things, a guardian of moments that only the two of you would ever understand.

You remember that Geto Suguru is kind—deeply, quietly kind in a way that echoes through your memories.

One rainy afternoon, you and Suguru were walking along the canal on your way home from school. The cold wind from the early spring nipped at your cheeks, and your fingers felt icy even though Suguru held your hand as tight as he could, his small fingers interlaced with yours. His little face was scrunched up, his nose bright red like a cherry. It made you giggle, but the rain was louder than your laugh.

You liked his laugh. 

Suguru’s eyes were so bright, like the shiny marbles you liked to collect, and they matched the rainy day with their deep, pretty purple. They always crinkled when he laughed or got big and round when he was surprised. But today, they looked different—wide and scared. It made your tummy feel funny, like something was wrong. Before you could ask him, your foot slid out from under you, and suddenly the cold water was all around you. The world turned blurry and loud, and you felt the current tugging at you, pulling you down and making your heart race.

You could see Suguru’s eyes through the splashes and the rush of water. He was screaming something, his little hand reaching for you but not close enough to grab. Everything else was a cold, rushing blur until someone—a big person, a stranger—was there, strong arms lifting you out of the water. You gasped and coughed, shivering and soaked, as Suguru ran to you, tears streaming down his cheeks. He hugged you so tight it felt like he was trying to hold all of you together. His crying was loud and messy, and you thought it must be so hard for someone so little to cry that much.

That was the first day you ever saw him cry. Perhaps, the only day too. 

The kind stranger walked both of you to Suguru’s house. You were cold and still dripping, and Suguru didn’t let go of your hand the whole time, even though he kept sniffling and staring at the ground. When you got to the front door, he was still holding on, you feared he wouldn’t let go. 

Suguru’s mother opened the door, and her eyes—just like Suguru’s, reminding you of violet hydrangeas drizzled with rainwater on a humid summer day, but a little softer—widened when she saw you both. You always liked her; she smelled like flowers and tea, and her hair was dark, long and shiny, like the princesses in your favorite stories. She bent down to look at you, and you noticed her makeup again. It was funny how she wore it—big, purple spots on her arms and a greenish-yellow patch peeking out from under the powder on her face. You always thought it was just a grown-up thing, like how some moms wore bright lipstick or funny dresses. Your mom said it was rude to ask questions, so you didn’t. You just smiled up at her, hoping she would fix everything. You remembered that she was a nurse, nurses always make everything better. 

Suguru stayed quiet as you both stepped inside, still clutching your hand, and you felt safe, at least a little bit, with his mom there, her voice soft and warm, promising that everything would be okay. 

“Suguru, go change and grab a few spare clothes for Y/N, okay?” she said softly, her voice warm and gentle, as she noticed the way you were trembling. “You’re going to catch a cold. Are your parents home?”

You shook your head. Your mom was out with her new boyfriend. He was strange, and you didn’t like the games you played. Games you didn’t really understand until much later.

She paused, her lips pressed together in a thoughtful line. Then, as if brushing away her concern, she smiled—a gentle smile that reminded you of the delicate fox statues at the temple gates, calm and knowing. A smile that was so like Suguru’s. 

You thought Suguru looked so much like his mother. 

A few moments later, Suguru returned, his arms loaded with clothes—a soft frog-print t-shirt and a pair of pajamas. He handed them to you, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink. He didn’t quite meet your gaze, eyes drifting to the ground as if embarrassed, but the way he passed them over made your heart flutter with a warmth you couldn’t quite place. You giggled, both at his shyness and at the oversized shirt he was offering you.

You didn’t give the shirt back, though. Not then. And Suguru never asked.

That night, you don’t remember the details—how you fell asleep or how things had progressed—but you do remember getting sick. A cold that left you bundled up in bed while your mother scolded you for not being more careful. You weren’t allowed to play with Suguru for a while. Not until you were well again.

The first summer of fourth grade rolled around, and you found yourself at the park down the street from your house, sitting on the swings. The air was warm, the sky stretched out in soft pastels as evening approached. The hum of cicadas filled the air, and the distant sound of honking cars blended with the laughter of other children playing nearby. You could feel the breeze against your skin as you swung back and forth, watching the world pass by.

Suguru approached slowly, his head lowered, and you noticed immediately: his hair had grown out, longer now, and it looked darker, shinier. It hung just past his shoulders in silky waves. You liked it. It suited him. He looked like his mother—like the fox statues, elegant and a little mysterious.

But as he came closer, you saw the red mark on his cheek—a faint bruise, but it stood out against his pale skin.

“What’s that, Sugu?” you asked, hopping off the swing and reaching for his face before he could pull away. He flinched slightly, his cheeks flushed, and your hand hovered near the mark.

He didn’t speak right away, and when he finally did, his voice was quiet, almost like he was unsure whether he should even share. “My dad came home... Ma says I should play outside until he leaves. I don’t like him very much.”

You felt a knot tighten in your chest. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard him talk about his father this way, but hearing it again still made something twist inside you. Almost like a tummy ache. You wanted to say something. To ask something. 

Instead, you offered him your hand, tugging him gently toward the sandbox where you’d set up your toys. It felt like the right thing to do. To share this quiet moment, away from the things you couldn’t understand, after all, you weren’t an adult. This seemed like an adult thing. 

“That’s okay,” you said softly, settling down in the sand “I don’t like my mom’s boyfriend either. We play weird games... but sometimes he buys me a new toy or takes me to McDonald’s if I win.”

Suguru’s eyes widened slightly. There was something in the way he looked at you, something that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he understood more than you realized. “I wonder if boys get weird when they grow up,” you added, your voice a little quieter now..”

Suguru didn’t take long to reply. He blurted it out, his words tumbling over each other in a rush. “I won’t turn out weird!” His face went bright red as he stood up, almost defensively. “I won’t! I’ll take care of you, and we’ll get married!”

Your laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. It wasn’t a mean laugh—just a joyful one that caught you by surprise. You laughed so hard you almost thought you might fall over. 

“We’re getting married?” you asked, trying to catch your breath through your giggles. “Okay, Sugu. When we get older, we’ll get married.”

For the rest of the afternoon, you both let your imaginations run wild. You talked about what your future would look like—what it would be like when you were married. A beautiful, traditional house, like the ones in downtown Kyoto, with a sprawling garden and a giant Sakura tree where you’d have picnics in the spring, drinking tea together. You pictured a big, airy bedroom with futons laid out beneath the window so you could wake up to the soft light of the morning sun.

“And I’ll get you a ring,” Suguru said, his voice brimming with excitement. “It’ll be big and shiny, with lots of jewels. You’ll see.”

You shook your head with a smile. “I want a gem like your eyes,” you said as you carefully packed sand into your bucket, forming the base of your sandcastle. “A violet one, so when I look at it, I’ll always think of you.”

Suguru’s face softened. He looked away, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Okay,” he muttered, almost too quietly.

The two of you played for hours as the sun began to set behind the trees. The orange light stretched across the sky, casting long shadows on the ground. Suguru lingered a little longer than usual, clearly reluctant to leave, but eventually, he stood up, a small sigh escaping his lips. He gave you a brief, almost shy hug before pulling away, offering you that familiar, soft smile. 

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” he promised, his voice quieter than usual.

When school started, Suguru came to you one morning, to walk with you to school and asked, his voice tentatively, “Is it okay if I take a different path sometimes?” There was something in his eyes that made you pause. He didn’t say much, but you knew there was more to the question. “I see things,” he added softly, almost as though he was unsure if he should even speak it aloud.

You didn’t see them—but you nodded, instinctively reaching out to hold his hand as you walked beside him, past places and shadows he pointed out. There were things there you didn’t understand, creatures in the corners of your vision, too fleeting to hold onto. But Suguru saw them clearly. His eyes would follow the shadows, his gaze sharp and focused, and you'd squeeze his hand, hoping to be part of his world, even if you couldn't see what he could.

"Are they like... yokai?" you asked one afternoon as you both sat on the playground during lunch. The warm air wrapped around you, the sound of distant voices fading in the background.

Suguru paused, a little surprised. “Maybe? Can you not see them?” he asked, his voice filled with wonder, as if it baffled him that you couldn’t. 

“My parents can’t see them either,” he added with a sheepish laugh. “My dad says I’m going crazy, so I guess I must be,” he murmured, his words trailing off as if he truly wondered if he was losing his mind.

You didn’t hesitate. You blurted it out without thinking, the words tumbling over each other in your haste to reassure him. “No! I don’t think you’re crazy! Maybe you have super cool powers! Maybe you can be the one to protect the weak!” You giggled, swinging yourself higher on the monkey bars.

Suguru’s eyes widened in surprise, and before you could swing too far, he quickly stepped forward, catching you just in time to keep you from falling flat on your face. “Careful!” he muttered bashfully, his hands steadying you as his cheeks flushed pink. 

“Protecting the weak, huh?” he said to himself, half in awe, half amused. He pulled out his handkerchief, wiping the sand from your calloused hands with a soft tenderness. “I think I can do that,” he said with a smile, that gentle, endearing smile of his that made your heart skip a beat.

Suguru became your first crush, though you hadn’t the words for it at the time. It was a soft, quiet thing, like a secret blooming in you, one you weren’t yet ready to name.

By the time middle school came around, it wasn’t just you. Suguru had become the object of affection for nearly every girl in your class. It was easy to see why. He was handsome, effortlessly so. His dark hair, now tied into a messy bun, framed his face in soft waves that made him look older, more mature. He was athletic—president of the martial arts club—and the classroom representative, always steady, always reliable. 

Girls would swoon whenever he walked by, their hearts practically in their eyes. You’d seen it all unfold countless times: a bashful girl, clutching a love letter, standing beneath the cherry blossom trees, her face flushed as she handed it to Suguru with trembling hands. And Suguru—sweet, gentle Suguru—would always take the letter, smile shyly, rub the back of his neck, and apologize. 

“I’m sorry,” he would say, his voice quiet, his eyes soft but firm. “I can’t return those feelings.” 

And yet, even after he rejected them, the girls would smile, too—somewhat bittersweetly, but they would smile. Because they understood, in their own way, what made Suguru special. It was the kindness in his rejection, the way he always apologized, the way his heart seemed so gentle, so full of care. 

But while the other girls admired him from afar, you became the unspoken resolution to their quiet heartbreaks. It wasn’t long before everyone in your class noticed the way you and Suguru always walked home together, how you always arrived at school side by side, or how you waited by the gates after his martial arts club practices. 

It wasn’t long before the jealousy started to manifest.

At first, it was small—innocent, even—little things that were easy to dismiss. You’d find your bento box missing, or your textbooks mysteriously soaked or torn. Harmless pranks, the girls in your class would say when you complained, their voices light, too light. They never did it in front of Suguru. 

But the notes? Those were different. The messages scribbled hastily, then slipped into the folds of your books or tucked into your desk when no one was looking. They were direct, a threat veiled in a veneer of sweetness: “Stay away from him, or else.” And though you never showed Suguru the notes, you felt them—each one like a small, sharp stone lodged in your chest.

Suguru noticed, though. He always did, didn’t he? It wasn’t uncommon for him to ask about the scuffs on your textbooks or the faint marks on your arms, or why you always seemed so distracted when he talked. One day, after another prank—this time a textbook torn in half—you stood in the local bookstore’s quiet aisle, searching for a replacement. Suguru, ever observant, was beside you.

“What happened to your books?” he asked, his voice quiet, but his gaze unwavering. “Didn’t you just get that one last week?”

You hesitated, unsure how to explain. His expression softened, but you could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced by your usual excuses. “A friend in my class needed it,” you murmured, a soft lie spilling from your lips. “Her family is really poor… so I figured, why not?”

Suguru paused for a moment, his lips curving slightly as he nodded. “That’s nice of you,” he said simply, his words brief, but thoughtful. You weren’t sure if he knew you were lying—or if he suspected—but you didn’t correct him. His words were always warm, gentle, as though he never doubted you, and that was enough.

You never confessed to him. Not once throughout middle school. You kept it buried—your feelings, your heartache, the quiet ache that pulled at your chest when you watched him walk away from the other girls, always with that same shy smile. You kept it hidden, even as it grew stronger, deeper. Even as Suguru unknowingly became the center of your world.

High school was just around the corner, and it seemed like everything was changing. One late summer evening, as the air began to cool and cicadas buzzed in the distance, you and Suguru sat on the porch of your house, the smell of ripe watermelon lingering in the warm night. The gentle weight of the fruit in your hands was a comfort, but there was an undercurrent of unease—of things left unsaid.

“So, you’re really going to that religious school?” you mumbled between bites of sweet watermelon, your eyes flicking to the sky as if avoiding his gaze. The question hung in the air, heavier than it should have been.

Suguru leaned back against the porch railing, his eyes gazing out at the street. He nodded, though there was something uncertain in his posture. “Yeah. It’s where my mom wants me to go. She thinks it’s best.”

You frowned slightly, pausing to wipe the juice from your chin. “But... you aren’t really religious,” you pointed out quietly. It wasn’t an accusation—it was more of a statement, one you’d thought about a lot. Suguru had always seemed so different from the others, always more grounded, more practical. Religion wasn’t really his thing, and you knew it. You weren’t sure if it was his mom’s wish, or something else that pulled him in that direction.

Suguru gave a small laugh, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked at you, then, his gaze soft but distant. “I’m not,” he admitted, “but sometimes, I think... maybe I should be. Maybe I need something to believe in, you know?”

You didn’t answer right away. You just took another bite of watermelon, chewing slowly, as if trying to process the sudden shift in his tone. He was changing, wasn’t he? You could feel it—the same way you felt that distance growing between you both. It wasn’t something either of you had asked for, but it was there.

And for a moment, as you sat there together, in that soft quiet of the evening, you wished you could say it—everything. The way you felt about him, the way your heart would skip a beat every time he smiled, the way your chest ached at the thought of him slipping away into a life that might not include you. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not yet.

Tears welled up and fell silently as you chewed on your watermelon, the juices almost too sweet, too sharp against the lump in your throat. Suguru noticed, his confident demeanor cracking as he stammered, those fox like violet eyes softening with concern.

“Hey, hey, I’ll still come to visit. I won’t be far… you’re still my best friend.” That’s all you were to him. Just friends. The words should have comforted you, but they only twisted deeper into the ache in your chest. You wished you had done things differently that night. Wished you hadn’t let the fear win. 

Before you could stop yourself, the bowl of watermelon slipped from your grasp, clattering to the floor as you pushed against his broad chest, the frustration bubbling up like a storm. You bit your lip, bowing your head to avoid the confused look in his eyes. The space between you grew colder, wider.

“You idiot,” you mumbled, the words meant for yourself but landing heavily between you. His expression shifted, hurt flashing across his face, but he didn’t say anything. That night ended in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. When he left, there was no goodnight text, no familiar ping of a morning message. By the next day, he was gone.

Suguru went off to some mysterious religious school, one so obscure that even searching for it yielded nothing but blank pages. You stayed behind, navigating your typical Japanese high school, blending into the background. You weren’t at the top of your class, not even close. Just ordinary.

The girls from middle school remembered you, and they hadn’t forgotten how to sneer. Their mocking smiles followed you down hallways, whispers cutting sharper than any blade. You wished, sometimes, that you’d been sent away too, anywhere but there. But it was fine. You learned to like the quiet, your solitary lunches at the top of the school building.

When the school year ended and summer painted the skies in gold and blue, Suguru came home. You saw him one day, taller and somehow changed, walking with another boy. This one was just as tall, leaner, with stark white hair that stood out like a beacon. His eyes were bright and blue, the kind that drew you in, reminiscent of the ocean under the midday sun. His name was Satoru.

You and Suguru never spoke about the night he left. The silence between you was now familiar, like an old song whose lyrics you’d forgotten. 

Suguru introduced you to Gojo Satoru, his friend from the religious school. Satoru didn’t understand the meaning of personal space, it seemed. You watched as Suguru’s eye twitched when Satoru casually slung an arm around your shoulders, a playful smirk hidden behind his glasses.

“Wow! Suguru never told me he had a pretty friend like you waiting at home for him,” Satoru teased, his voice light and teasing. Your cheeks flushed crimson at the unexpected compliment, your heart stuttering in your chest.

“What happened to going home, Satoru? I thought you wanted to train or something,” Suguru said, his tone edged with something you couldn’t quite place, his eyes narrowing at the arm draped over you.

“I wanted to see what a commoner’s life is like,” Satoru said with a casual shrug, his smile unfaltering.

Suguru’s eyes met yours for a brief, fleeting second, filled with something that made your chest tighten. But whatever it was, it vanished as quickly as it came, swept away by the playful banter and the summer breeze.

Summer days passed slowly, drenched in the heat of the sun and the chatter of cicadas. Satoru quickly became a regular part of your small circle, his presence impossible to ignore. He was loud, boisterous, with an infectious energy that made the quiet afternoons seem brighter and heavier all at once. And Suguru—he stayed close, always hovering just at the edge of it all, watching with those deep violet eyes that you couldn’t read.

There were moments when it felt almost normal, like nothing had changed between you and Suguru. The three of you would sit by the riverbank, Satoru’s laughter ringing out as he tried to skip stones and failed spectacularly, the smooth rocks plopping into the water with each throw. Suguru would smirk, his usual calm disrupted by the smallest hint of a smile. But then, there were moments when the silence would settle again, a reminder of everything unsaid. You’d catch Suguru’s gaze, his eyes searching yours for a heartbeat before he’d look away.

One afternoon, as the sun began to dip behind the hills and the sky turned a soft, dusky purple, Satoru sprawled out on the grass, hands behind his head. “You know, it’s strange,” he said, his voice light but his eyes serious as he stared up at the sky. “Coming here, seeing how different it is from how I was raised, how the school is- this is peaceful.”

Suguru didn’t respond, just watched the sun dipping lower, shadows stretching long over the ground. You glanced between them, feeling the familiar tug of curiosity. You wanted to ask what their lives were like, what they did in that school that seemed so far removed from anything you knew. But before you could speak, Suguru broke the silence.

“Different is good sometimes,” he said quietly, almost to himself. His expression was unreadable, and something in his voice made your heart twist.

Satoru turned to you then, a mischievous glint back in his eyes. “Hey, we should do something fun before the summer ends. What do people around here do, anyway? Festivals? Fireworks? Don’t tell me all you do is sit by the river.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Suguru beat you to it. “There’s a festival next weekend,” he said, his gaze finally meeting yours. “You should come.”

It felt like an invitation wrapped in layers of meaning, and for a moment, the air between you felt fragile, something you didn’t want to break. Satoru’s grin widened, and he clapped his hands together. “Perfect! I love festival snacks.”

The week leading up to the festival passed with a strange, buzzing anticipation. You spent your days replaying that moment by the river, wondering what it meant, hoping for something you couldn’t quite name.

When the night of the festival arrived, the streets were a whirl of lantern light and laughter, the scent of grilled food mixing with the sweetness of candy. You wore your favorite yukata, its delicate patterns of blue and white mirroring the summer sky. The moment you spotted Suguru and Satoru waiting for you near the entrance, your heart did a little flip. Suguru looked at you for a beat longer than usual, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

You however thought Suguru always looked more handsome in traditional wear. You'd never tell him that thought.

“You look nice,” he said, voice low enough that only you could hear. Satoru, never one to miss a moment, whistled dramatically. “I think you look hot,” he teased, winking at you.

Suguru shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. The three of you walked through the festival together, surrounded by the glow of lanterns and the hum of excited voices. You felt the brush of Suguru’s sleeve against yours, and each accidental touch sent a thrill up your spine.

As the night went on, you found yourselves near the edge of the festival grounds, where the noise softened into a quieter backdrop. Suguru turned to you, eyes thoughtful. “I never told you, did I?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why I left that night.”

Your breath caught, the world around you fading as you looked up at him. The question, the hurt, all of it surfaced in that instant. But before he could say more, a firework burst in the sky above, scattering colors across the night, and Satoru’s voice called out, breaking the spell.

“Hey! You two, you’re missing the show!” 

Suguru’s expression shifted, the moment slipping away like sand through your fingers. But his eyes lingered on yours, as if to say tonight wasn’t the night.

You never did get to hear what he wanted to say. But you always remembered the way the fireworks lit up his eyes, turning them into pools of shimmering violet and gold. Suguru was beautiful in a way that seemed almost unreal.

After that summer, you saw less and less of Suguru and Satoru. Every time you reached out, you were met with the same response: “Busy,” or, “I have a lot of work.” You tried not to dwell on it, though the ache of distance settled deep in your chest.

One evening, as you studied for an upcoming exam, the summer heat pressed against your skin like a suffocating blanket. The windows were wide open, the occasional breeze doing little to ease the stifling air. The sky outside was a blanket of deep indigo, scattered with stars that twinkled above the quiet street.

Then, a cry cut through the silence from next door. It wasn’t the first time; Suguru’s parents had always been a source of hushed whispers and dark looks. You had grown to understand that his father’s anger was more than just a temper—it was violence. The beatings, first directed at his mother, had eventually reached Suguru when she could no longer shield him. You wished you had known when you were children, before he disappeared to that unreachable school. Maybe you could have done something. Maybe you could have held on to him just a little tighter. But, you reminded yourself that you were both just children, juggling things that a child shouldn't be going through.

A sudden creak jolted you from your thoughts. The front door. You froze, straining to hear past the thundering of your heartbeat. Your mother wasn’t supposed to be home, and the last boyfriend she brought around—the one who had a temper of his own—had vanished weeks ago, leaving you with a sense of uneasy relief.

“Mom?” you called out, voice shaky as you peered into the dark hallway. Silence.

You took tentative steps down the stairs, flicking on the light. There, standing in the dim glow, was Suguru. His face was pale, hair disheveled, and on his clothes—was that blood?

“Suguru?” His name came out as a whisper, tinged with fear and disbelief. Your eyes darted over him, searching for injuries or some sign that could explain the scene before you. But he didn’t move. He only looked at you, a gentle smile cracking the grim line of his mouth as he stepped forward and opened his arms.

“I can finally say it, I love you,” he said, the words hanging in the air like a confession and a plea. The room seemed to close in around you as he pulled you into an embrace. The scent of smoke and blood invaded your senses, sharp and suffocating. Something wet dripped onto your head, and you realized his whole body was trembling.

“I love you,” he repeated, voice soft, almost fragile. “You looked so beautiful that day... in your yukata... you’ve always looked beautiful.” His words tumbled out in a quiet ramble, barely holding together. “I love you so much it hurts... it hurts so much to know that...”

You tilted your head up, eyes wide with questions you didn’t know how to ask, and before you could speak, his lips met yours. The kiss was gentle, desperate, and tasted of salt from tears and the metallic tang of blood. Your body froze, caught between the shock of the moment and the familiar warmth of his touch. 

The world outside was silent, but in that moment, everything screamed. 

The kiss left you breathless, and for a fleeting moment, you felt like a child again, back in the days when Suguru was just your best friend with laughter that lit up your world. But the metallic taste and the tremor in his body pulled you back to the present, where the Suguru in front of you was someone different—someone haunted.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. There was a depth of pain there that you couldn’t comprehend, an abyss of sorrow that twisted his beautiful features into something almost unrecognizable.

“Why—” you started, but the question choked in your throat as his hand brushed your cheek, fingers trembling against your skin. The warmth in his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could react, he pressed his forehead against yours, eyes squeezing shut.

“You don’t understand, do you?” he said, a tear rolling down his face, mingling with the blood that stained him. “I can’t let them take you away from me. I can’t let this world twist what little good we have left.”

Confusion morphed into a sudden, chilling realization, and your breath caught in your chest. “Suguru, what are you—”

“I love you too much, the higher ups will kill you after what I did. They'll find you, use you as punishment” he interrupted, voice breaking as if the words themselves were ripping him apart. His arms wrapped around you tightly, too tightly, and panic surged in your veins as his embrace turned suffocating.

“Suguru, wait—” you gasped, struggling against him, but he held you as if you were the only thing anchoring him to this world. The wetness against your head spread, the metallic scent growing stronger as you fought to breathe. His strength was overwhelming, something you had never felt from him before.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, almost reverent. The room spun, a whirl of dark shadows and star-speckled sky visible from the window behind him. Pain flared through you, sharp and sudden, and your vision blurred with tears.

The realization was slow, creeping in like ice. His hand, once gentle, now pressed against your side where warmth spread in a crimson bloom. Your strength faltered, and Suguru’s face swam in your vision, eyes glistening as he cradled you. His lips moved, speaking words that sounded far away now.

“It’ll be over soon,” he promised, as if trying to convince himself more than you. His voice was soft, desperate. “We’ll be together one day... no one will take you from me.”

Your limbs grew heavy, your body slumping against his. The pain dulled, replaced by a chilling numbness that seeped into your bones. Suguru’s face hovered above yours, tears streaking his bloodied cheeks as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

The room dimmed, the noise of the world fading into the distance. Suguru’s whispered, broken words were the last thing you heard, “I love you. I’ll keep you safe now.”

Darkness folded over you like a shroud, and the last image in your mind was of the boy you had known, standing in the light of a summer day with violet eyes full of wonder. Suguru, your friend, your everything, who now held you in an embrace.

The warmth of Suguru’s arms faded, replaced by a numbing cold that seeped into your bones. When you slipped away, Suguru was still holding you, his body shaking with quiet sobs as the reality of what he’d done settled over him like a suffocating blanket.

Minutes felt like hours as he knelt there, your lifeless form cradled in his arms. The weight of his actions bore down on him, a crushing force that stole the breath from his lungs. The room was silent now, the metallic tang of blood heavy in the air. His violet eyes, wide and unfocused, glistened with tears that refused to stop falling.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the empty room, the words a broken mantra. “I’m so sorry.”

The night stretched on, the stars above unblinking witnesses to the scene below. Suguru’s mind spun with memories—your laughter by the riverbank, the way your eyes lit up when he said something that made you smile, the warmth of your presence that had anchored him through so many storms. And now, that warmth was gone, snuffed out by his own trembling hands.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, the world outside moving on without him. 

Suguru’s hands clenched, nails biting into his palms until they drew blood. He lifted his gaze, eyes red and swollen, and looked at you one more time. The peaceful expression on your face was almost unbearable; it made it seem as if you were merely sleeping, ready to wake at any moment. But you wouldn’t. And that truth cracked something deep inside him.

He stood slowly, legs trembling under the weight of exhaustion and grief. The blood on his clothes had dried, stiff and crusted, but the scent still clung to him, sharp and unforgiving. Suguru took a shaky breath and glanced at the front door, the place that once symbolized safety and warmth now nothing more than a reminder of what he had lost.

As he stepped into the night, your lifeless form cradled in his arms, the cool air bit at his skin, carrying with it the distant hum of cicadas and the faint rustle of leaves. Behind him, two little girls followed, their small steps quiet and cautious. Their eyes, wide with a mix of fear and trust, never wavered from Suguru’s figure as they walked together into the night. There was much to do. 

In a few years, Suguru had built that traditional house you both dreamed of as children. The structure stood proudly, nestled in the serene embrace of the countryside, with a wide veranda and sliding paper doors that creaked softly in the breeze. In the garden, the large sakura tree bloomed each spring, its petals drifting like whispers over the spot where your ashes were laid to rest.

He sat in the bedroom, the one where his futon lay by the large window so the first rays of morning light could touch his face, waking him gently—just as you had always imagined. The light bathed the room in a warm glow, but it could not reach the shadow that lingered in his heart. He was fulfilling the dream he had stolen from you, keeping it alive with each passing day.

Suguru’s gaze shifted to the Sakura tree, its blossoms swaying in the morning air. He closed his eyes, feeling the ache of longing bloom anew in his chest. He had much left to do, so many things to set right before he could allow himself to rest. Before he could find his way to you, wherever you might be waiting.

In the quiet moments, when the world was still and only the rustle of petals filled the silence, he spoke to you. Promises, confessions, hopes whispered into the air with the wish that somehow, you could hear him.

One day, he would join you beneath the shade of that Sakura tree, where time and separation could no longer reach. Suguru held onto the hope that you both could be together once again.

[eggtargaryenii]

EAST OF THE SUN | PART III

"Bastards are supposed to be born of lies and temptation, not love," Jacaerys said, "at least according to the Faith. If we are indeed the bastards of Ser Harwin and my mother, then we are proof that lies and temptation are all that existed between them.” You thought of all the septas and their prayers and Alicent Hightower screaming at you to behave. Bastards are not so different from the daughters of whores, you mused. They see us all as products of sin.

11.1k words, aemond x fem!reader x jacaerys. childhood friends to lovers (except it's cousins), political drama. chapter warnings for targaryen incest and themes of xenophobia/racism and misogyny. dividers from @/cafekitsune.

SERIES SUMMARY & MASTERLIST.

IX. THE EMPRESS

“You raised the girl to be too clever, Alicent. I fear she cannot be controlled.”

Otto Hightower did not often show weakness, but his voice was heavy with exhaustion—or perhaps frustration—as he spoke to Alicent. He was poring over the papers you'd put together for your petition earlier in the day: a detailed summary of all of the records of your father's spending in Essos during his diplomatic visits, presented as evidence that none of your inheritance in the Iron Bank was actually Crown wealth. Apparently you'd gone and stolen the ledgers in the middle of the night—with the help of that Strong bastard, the one who was besotted with you—and done the maths yourself. All current and past Masters of Coin still alive—Lord Beesbury, Prince Daemon and Tyland Lannister—examined your work and could only attest to its accuracy.

It was unprecedented, but not too surprising to Alicent. Of all your lessons as a noble lady—in the Seven, in dancing, in needlework, and so on—you really only ever paid attention to arithmetic and household stewardship. So I may someday be a competent wife and oversee my husband’s affairs, you once explained to Alicent, after my Queen chooses a match for me, of course. When Alicent then advised you that most men enjoyed graceful women who could sing and dance, you had replied to her that you did not want to marry a man—you wanted to marry a lord.

Just as you and your father want me for me, do you not? you had asked. I do not wish to disappoint either of you in that regard. It would be no good for any of us if I married a man who tossed me aside because he met a woman more graceful than I could ever be. But if I kept his household running flawlessly and his accounts full of gold? Well, he might eventually take another lover, but he would never want to take another wife.

You had been so young when you’d said that—younger than she’d been when she wed King Viserys, but no less aware. Alicent understood your play then, and she never chided you for neglecting your needlework ever again.

“The girl has a talent for figures,” Alicent admitted. “She has a keen eye for household management.”

“Figures?” Otto laughed in a way that sounded derisive. “It’s not the maths that impressed me. You can hire any steward to do maths. No, it was her foresight in stealing those ledgers. And the way she talked in the throne room—gods, can she talk!” He laughed, though it was entirely mirthless. “Though I suppose Rhaenyra may have prepared her. The blacks have never been interested in her before, but now it seems that they want her as an ally.”

It did look that way during the petition, with Daemon backing you every time the Hand seemed to corner you. As usual, the man could hardly string together a coherent argument, but he did not need to. What really mattered to all the smallfolk and nobles watching your petition was that every time Otto alluded to your disgrace of a mother and your mongrel pedigree, Daemon never let them forget that you were also a trueborn Targaryen.

You would steal from your kin by marriage? he asked. You would deny her birthright? You would spit in her father’s legacy, after all he has done for the Realm? You would disrespect my niece?

Niece. Alicent found it laughable. Daemon had never spared you a glance as you grew up in the Red Keep, nor did Rhaenyra.

“Of course they want her as an ally,” Alicent said, her words sharp with frustration. “Rhaenyra ignored the girl when she had nothing, but now that she’s come into enough wealth to hire an entire army of sellswords and more, the princess is suddenly her greatest benefactor.”

Alicent was wroth to think of it. She had wanted no part in raising you, had resented you for it when her husband charged her with the duty. She could hardly manage her own children, let alone some foreign waif who was loath to speak the Common Tongue and threw tantrums whenever she was forced to pray at the Sept. Worse yet, your mother had been a bed slave from Lys—a country of harlots, criminals, and sin—and Alicent knew, just knew by looking at you, that you were likely to end up equally sullied. It was in your blood.

But you had no mother.

You were at court, a young and lost girl, and you were entirely motherless. She still remembered how you wept after your mother kissed you goodbye, the way that you would sneak off to Blackwater Bay just to wait for your father to return. Alicent’s heart ached for you then, for she too knew how horrible court could be for a young and motherless girl.

Rhaenyra was your kin by blood. She should have looked out for you. She had been more than capable, but she was too busy with her sham marriage and bastard children and that paramour of hers. What could Alicent do but care for you instead? You had no mother.

The Seven would have never forgiven Alicent if she simply left you to the wolves of the court. She could not leave you to her father’s court. You would not have survived. You would have been married off at ten-and-two to some lord thirty years your senior, tortured in your marriage bed until you were swollen with child while still a child yourself. Alicent could not let it happen.

Even if Alicent would never love you—and she knew she never would—she knew she must still care for you.

And today she watched as you spat in the face of her protection. How you paralyzed her when you turned to Daemon and chided him: I am familiar with the prudence and wisdom of Her Grace, as well as her kindness, you'd said. I know she would never intentionally try to take someone’s rightful inheritance. It is merely an ambiguity of the law that has led us here. She only thinks of the Realm.

Said in front of King Viserys, with his daughter-heir in the room? Alicent had no choice but to support your position, lest she look like a scheming traitor.

And the worst thing about it was that, despite her father’s ponderings, Alicent knew that Rhaenyra had not coached you to say that. For she had raised you, and she knew your talent for speech and for people—and she knew those words came from you alone, and you had learned how to say them from watching Alicent.

Rhaenyra could have never taught you how to appeal to people like that. Rhaenyra had no need, for she could always do whatever she pleased. She could flout the rules and disrespect the entire court, and King Viserys would only protect her. But you—just like Alicent—could not. For you had no mother, and you had no father, and you were the daughter of a foreign whore. All you had was Alicent, and for your sake she tried to make you disavow your sinful mother, for your sake she tried to make you find the light of the Seven, for your sake she tried to beat out of you your wilful nature. For your sake she tried to save your soul from both the Seven Hells and from the judgemental eyes of the Red Keep, the lords and ladies who saw nothing but a sinful whore when they looked at you. But you always resisted, as if you wanted to be a pariah, as if you wanted to suffer despite her best efforts—but Alicent could not hate you.

How could she hate a powerless girl without a mother?

“I do not think it was Rhaenyra who taught her how to speak in court,” Alicent voiced, thinking of all the hours you spent watching petitions, watching her. “Rhaenyra does not know how to handle herself with such grace nor subtlety.”

“Ah. So it was your influence.” Her father laughed, sounding genuinely amused. “If only you had raised Aegon to have even half the talent—then perhaps the King would have changed his mind about his succession.”

Alicent’s fingers tightened, and then she found herself picking at her nails.

“It is no fault of mine that Aegon was born with his disposition,” she said. “I tried my best.”

“You did,” Otto agreed. “You did not fail in all regards. Aemond, at the very least, has talent. Were he your firstborn son and that girl born a Targaryen princess—my, imagine the power they could have on the Iron Throne together. Our family would be untouchable. A pity.”

Alicent’s jaw tightened. She could not hate you, but she also could not stand to think of you sullying any of her sons. Your influence on them had already done irreparable damage. Your habit of tempting men had already driven Aegon into terrorising innocent women with his lust, and whatever silk-sweet words you whispered into Aemond’s ears had turned her lovely boy into someone cold and distant.

No—Alicent could not imagine you wedded to either of them.

“A pity, but there is no use in mourning it,” she dismissed. “Aemond will be matched to a respectable lady of the realm, and we will use the girl to buy the loyalty of a useful lord—as was always your plan.”

“Yes. My plan.” Otto looked at your papers thoughtfully. “I think we will need to make haste with her marriage. The blacks intend to ally with her, and I believe she is too ambitious to decline their offer. We cannot let her inheritance fall into Rhaenyra’s hands—we shall need to find her a match and send her someplace else immediately.”

Alicent swallowed. She had hoped to push for your match to a Northern house. She knew you would be happiest in the North—with people who worshipped the Old Gods, and a husband who was far enough removed from the politics of court to care much about your heritage. Starks were known for their honour, and the Warden in the North had carried himself with great dignity during his time at court. She knew that Cregan Stark would not have mistreated you. Lord Manderly’s son seemed promising as well, and the young Lord Bolton would have been keen for a dragon. But the political benefits of those matches were modest at best, uncertain at worst—Alicent knew her father would not have chosen any of those betrothals for you.

You had no mother. Only she could defend you.

“And where,” she asked carefully, “would we find a match on such short notice?”

She hoped for Lord Stokeworth or the Tully boy. The former was kind and the latter was dutiful, and she had already convinced her father of both proposals. But when the Hand smiled, his eyes glinting sharp, she knew it was neither of them.

“It is, in some ways, fortunate that she is so clever,” he replied. “The Tyrells have been here for the past few days on their own business, and they watched her petition. They were quite impressed with her and have made an offer to take her as a ward—and to eventually marry her to one of their sons.”

Her eyes widened. The Tyrells were one of the great houses, and ordinarily would only be interested in a betrothal with a Targaryen prince or princess. “Was it the talent they wanted,” she asked, ��or the gold?”

“The gold for the marriage—and her dragon, of course. But the talent is why they want her as a ward.”

Alicent considered the offer. They likely wanted to groom you for something, and as long as it was not dancing or needlework, it would keep you happily busy. You may eventually find yourself content with such an arrangement. But she could not help but feel that something was amiss. The Tyrells kept strongly to the Faith, and they cared greatly for status. They would not be so eager to take someone like you into their family.

“And which son would they want to squander upon her?” Alicent asked.

“The bastard they just legitimised. To wed a Targaryen lady with a dragon would be quite the achievement for such a man—hardly a squander.”

“You wish to marry her to Arthur Flowers?” she asked, appalled.

“Of course. We are buying the son of a great house with her. The son of our liege lord!”

“Arthur Flowers is a bastard and a raper!”

“Arthur Tyrell is now a legitimate son of the family controlling the Reach!” Otto sighed. “Do not detest me for this, Alicent. We will need to secure all the help we can get when the succession of the Iron Throne is contested.” Otto gave her a severe look. “And remember,” he added, “this has always been your plan too. You have always wanted to use the girl for the sake of your own children—or would you rather that Rhaenyra use her instead?”

Alicent could not say anything. She could not stop this match, she realised. No one would speak in your defence, for you had no mother—you only had her. And Alicent, at the end of the day, was not your mother.

She was a Hightower.

X. TEMPERANCE

The edge of the Kingswood today was peaceful. The sky was a clear blue; the birdsong was a soft warble in your ears. Vhagar—who was old and liked to rest when she was not at war—was calm beneath you, her saddle rising and falling with the rhythm of her breath. Aemond, never one to chatter, was equally quiet. Even though Vhagar had been at rest for a while, your arms were still wrapped tight around his waist, and your cheek was pressed against his back.

You had not held or been held since your parents departed from King’s Landing. Given your reputation, it was impossible for you to touch anyone without setting off whispers, and none of the septas who cared for you had any desire to touch you—your blood was too dirty for it. But sharing a dragon with another person offered a kind of analogue to an embrace; allowed you to feel close to someone without raising brows. You would never admit such a thing aloud, but you liked to ride with people partly because of that.

Aemond was, of course, the only person in King’s Landing who would ever ride with you on any dragon. Ordinarily you would limit contact with him—he did not strike you as a person who particularly liked being touched, and you did not want to scare him off—but you needed to feel close to someone today. You had just spent three days without sleep to prepare for your petition, and during the manic rush of having won it, was approached by Alicent Hightower with dampening news of your betrothal. She'd finished her announcement by requesting that you plan your father’s funeral; it was plainly an attempt to ruin any happiness by reminding you to grieve.

Too proud to show weakness, you’d agreed and committed to yet another three days without sleep.

But you were plainly exhausted. You did not want to think about the funeral. You did not want to think about your betrothal. You did not want to think of anything at all. You simply wanted to relax, wanted to feel safe and warm next to someone, so now you were sitting with Aemond in the most desolate place you could find, the both of you on Vhagar’s saddle.

“I'm afraid I'll fall off if I let go,” you explained to Aemond, when he asked why you were still holding him.

“But we are not in the air.”

“Vhagar likes to buck and fight—she could kick me off at any moment.”

“Vhagar is very calm right now. And she likes you. She feels at ease around you.”

“I suppose that's true.” You closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of him. “I'm fond of riding her too.”

Despite his questions, Aemond did not protest to your touch. He merely hummed, after which a long silence passed. Larks kept calling out, their songs a beautiful trill in your ears. The day was windy; the trees whispered loudly in the sky. To anyone a distance away, the noise of the forest would surely mask your voices—as long as you kept them low.

“I'm betrothed to someone now,” you said quietly. It was not quite upset, but your voice sounded oddly fragile.

“Hm.” Aemond did not sound bothered; instead, he seemed pensive. “To whom?”

“The Tyrells. The bastard they just legitimised.” You opened your eyes, staring at the rustling trees. The scenery of the Reach would be similar, you found yourself thinking, for it was close by—too close for your liking.

“The Tyrells,” Aemond repeated thoughtfully. “The Hightowers are their bannermen. Otto Hightower wishes to trade you for the guaranteed support of his liege, and at the same time he will ensure that your inheritance will not fall into Rhaenyra's hands. It seems my grandsire has done exactly what you predicted.”

“As I said,” you replied bitterly, “his daughter raised me. I know how your family thinks.”

“As do I.” You felt him shift; he may have been looking back at you. “Do you know anything about Ser Arthur?”

“Nothing other than that he’s fought in the Dornish Marches. He displayed great feats during battle—I heard many tales in the Throne Room during their petition. Ser Criston looked strangely at him the whole time, though.” Your brow furrowed. “I wonder why.”

“They may have served together, or else he may have some kind of reputation within the Marches,” Aemond mused. “I will ask Ser Criston later.”

“Do tell me what he says. I would like to know the character of my future husband.” Your arms tightened around Aemond. The day was not particularly cold, but you found yourself clinging to him. “I need all the knowledge I can of the Tyrells before I leave. Surely Highgarden cannot be worse than the Red Keep, but I want no surprises.”

“You have already resigned yourself to being taken away.” You felt Aemond touch your hand; you nearly jumped before realising he was only adjusting his chains. “I told you that I would handle the matter of your betrothal.”

“What can you do?” you asked miserably. “The Queen has already agreed, and who knows what kind of marriage your grandsire will force me into if I offend the Tyrells by outright rejecting them. I would not put it past the Hand to tie me up and send me away in the middle of the night, at this point.” You pressed your forehead into Aemond’s back, sighing. “Will you take me to Braavos so I may escape the mummery of the Red Keep? If we leave on Vhagar now, we may be there by the morrow.”

Vhagar beneath you rumbled, as if in complaint. “Ah,” you said, “your old lady seems unwilling to carry us. I suppose I'm done for.”

Aemond laid a hand on your wrist, perhaps searching for another chain. You did not push it away. “You need not offend the Tyrells,” he said. “When the time comes, simply play along as needed. You will not be held accountable for whatever may come.”

“Will you be held accountable? The guilt would eat me alive, if you were.”

He hummed. “If I were, it would not affect my standing greatly. You know I would not make such a misstep.”

“I suppose.” You allowed yourself to feel, for just one moment, reassured. Aemond was one of those few players in court who felt both reliable and safe, or at least not openly malicious. Perhaps to others, but not you. It was not unlikely that he could solve this all.

The breeze changed. You realised that your excuses to cling onto him had dwindled. “I suppose we should dismount now,” you said mournfully. “Come—let’s enjoy the woods, as we said we would.”

“I don't feel much like looking at trees today,” Aemond said. “Would you like to fly along the bay instead? The whole length of the shore.”

You lifted your head to give him an incredulous look. “That will take at least an hour in flight.”

“Then I suppose you will need to hold me for an hour. I do hope that won’t be a bother.”

It took you a beat to realise what he'd just offered, but once you did, you squeezed him tightly.

“As long as there is no complaint from Vhagar,” you said. “I know the lady likes her rest.”

Vhagar clicked beneath you, more agreeable now to your request. “She will do what I want,” Aemond reassured you. “Dragons are influenced by the desires of their riders.”

“So you want to nap and lounge all day like an elderly woman?”

You could hear the amusement in his voice when he replied, “Not terribly, though it is an option for us today if you wish.”

How lovely that would be, you thought. If you could lie with Aemond in the grass, shielded from the sun by Vhagar, and spend the afternoon slumbering. To ignore the funeral you needed to plan, the grief you had been procrastinating, the bridegroom you needed to meet.

Unfortunately, Aemond was not such a lout that he would waste the day like that, and you had your own responsibilities. You could not run for long from the death of your parents, from the ramifications of this inheritance mess. It was better to face it all promptly, matching the cold efficiency that the Hightowers operated with. That was how you had survived all these years, after all: matching the Hightowers.

But at the very least, you could allow yourself one more hour of delay.

“Napping would be nice,” you admitted, “but I'd rather spend the time in flight.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

Vhagar’s wings began to beat, ancient but mighty. The trees swayed and rattled from the gust of her flight. The chains around your waist shook with the force of the great beast, but they held steadfast—binding you to Aemond, their hold inescapable.

X. DEATH, UPRIGHT

“Dracarys.”

A brilliant fire roared to life, consuming a boat drifting peacefully by the shore. Emerald flames erupted from the wood, devouring shimmering Qartheen jewels and priceless Myrish silks—all the belongings of your father.

Your father’s dragon had died in his youth. In her absence, it was Wildfyre who was chosen to set the pyre aflame in this sham of a funeral. The fire was the colour of alchemical wildfire, though given your dragon’s middling age of ninety-and-three, they of course burned much hotter. Despite being grown and having lived through both war and death, though, Wildfyre still behaved like a child: screeching and roaring and squawking miserably as the pyre burned, as if crying in your stead.

Your own face was bone-dry. You only stared dully at the pile of burning valuables, which were meant to be a substitute for your father’s body.

Technically, all of the objects in the pyre belonged to the Crown, but in a fit of spite you had publicly petitioned to the Hand to have them burned in the funeral. In a throne room where various nobles and smallfolk spectated—most of whom were already sympathetic to you, after you had to argue for your own inheritance just two days before—Otto Hightower had no choice but to grant your request, lest he look like a monster. You were glad to see all the treasures burning to ash in front of him, all that wealth forever out of his reach.

The Hand and the Queen had not appreciated this insult; neither of them offered their condolences during the ceremony, and likely only came out of obligation. Your closest kin offered no real words of consolation either. Aegon was so grossly uncomfortable during the affair that he could not make eye contact with you; Helaena only gave you a mournful and disconcerting stare, as if she were grieving you instead of your father.

Aemond, though very dear to you, was equally clumsy with handling you in your grief. He stood by your side and asked if you were well, to which you only gave him a long, dead-eyed stare. You had just spent three days without sleep to prepare for your petition during which his grandsire wrung you out; then you spent another two days without sleep to prepare for a funeral at which you thought no one would grieve.

Of course you were not well.

None of Alicent Hightower’s children had ever experienced loss; that much was clear. It was different with your other cousins, however; Luke, Jace, Baela, and Rhaena neatly offered their sincere condolences. I'm so sorry, they all said, before taking your hands and squeezing. I am always here if you need company. Say the word and I will come by.

You absolutely would not take them up on the offer, but you did appreciate it.

Surprisingly, though, you were not entirely alone in your mourning. King Viserys had asked to delay the funeral until he was well enough to attend, and he now stood in the front, watching solemnly. Beside him was Prince Daemon, who for once seemed subdued and reflective. You were not sure what to make of Rhaenyra’s face, which seemed appropriately mournful, but potentially inauthentic. She had actually known your father as a child, though they were not close, and she never involved herself with you when you were a child except for when Jace wanted to play with you.

You supposed it was Prince Daemon and King Viserys who had the greatest right to grief, perhaps even more than you. You had known your father for ten years; they had known him for nearly thirty. Daemon sought you out shortly after the service, speaking in Pentoshi Valyrian.

“Your father was the only person who brought us news of our aunt in Volantis,” he said. “He always saw that she fared well—did he ever tell you that?”

“No,” you replied honestly, and with great surprise. “He never mentioned her.”

“It was how he knew your mother,” Daemon said. “The Lysene pillowhouse that Saera once worked in—your mother was a courtesan there. She introduced them to one another.”

You were stunned by the news. Saera Targaryen had been exiled and King Jaehaerys had forbidden the rest of the family from ever speaking with her again. To think that your father had not only sought her out anyway, but had found your mother through her, was shocking.

“I did not think my father would break his uncle’s decree,” you said.

“Defiance was in your father’s spirit. I do believe you inherited it.”

“Thank you,” you said. You were deeply confused—this was probably the fifth time in your life you'd ever spoken to the Rogue Prince, for he scared you when you were a child, and he himself did not care much for toddlers. You did not think he could be so kind. “Perhaps defiance is in our blood. My father always spoke highly of your exploits, and he respected Princess Saera as well.”

The corner of Daemon’s mouth lifted in something that could not really be called a smile, but was probably meant to be a sign of approval. “Those born of fire and blood have a tendency to be untameable. Your father and I were not just kin—we were kindred. If you wish for the company of like-minded people”—Daemon glanced at the Hightowers and their children—“rather than those who disapprove of us… do seek me out.”

King Viserys, with his missing eye hidden by a patch, offered fewer words, but more heartfelt: “I have always tried to care for you in my cousin’s stead,” he said. “Nothing about that will change in his death.”

You bowed. “Thank you, my King.”

He laid a hand, shaking and emaciated but warm, on your shoulder.

“I regret that I am no longer well enough to spend time with you in your hour of grief, but I know that my children and grandchildren will keep your loneliness at bay.”

He did not mention Queen Alicent, nor did you. “I will be grateful for their company in my mourning,” was all you said.

Truthfully, though, anyone’s company would likely make you scream. You did not feel like coddling anyone as they struggled over what they should say to you after you lost a man that none of them had known. All you wanted to do was sneak back to either your rock by the sea or the dung pit to cry in absolute solitude, but now that Aegon and Aemond knew both of your misery spots, that was not an option.

Your expression was grim as you left the funeral site, and you prayed that no one would disturb you in your self-pity—but to your displeasure, Jace had been thoughtful enough to wait for you.

“I was worried about you,” he said, so gently that you wanted to throw up.

“You need not be,” you replied stiffly. “I did all my grieving for my father while I was working through those ledgers.”

Jacaerys had helped you sort through the books when you were crying too hard to read clearly, so you knew he was being genuine when he replied, “I know. But…”

“But?”

“It's just,” he started, and you could hear the hesitation in his voice, “is there to be a service for your mother?”

You stared dumbly. He sounded earnest when he explained, “I would like to attend, if there is one planned.”

“No,” you replied, and your voice sounded oddly strangled, and your throat hurt terribly. “No, there is not one planned. No one asked me to make arrangements for one, so I did not.”

“Would you rather that there wasn't one?”

“I had not thought about it—I did not think there was anyone who would like to come,” you admitted, which made you feel both horrible and sorry for yourself, and suddenly you were turning around to wipe away at your eyes. Oh, how you longed to be in the dung pit right now.

“Why would you even want to come?” you asked, sniffling. “You did not know her.”

“I would want to come for you,” Jacaerys said simply, and the sob that came out of you was so ugly that you felt embarrassed. Not once did you cry like this while reading through all the Iron Bank ledgers, but for some reason, the thought of your mother hurt your heart so much that you did not know how else to release the pain but with the most guttural sobs possible.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. You noticed then that you had crouched down to cry into your knees, and Jace had lowered himself to sit with you.

“When Ser Harwin died,” he said quietly, “Luke and I were not allowed to attend his funeral.”

“Oh,” you said, lip wobbling. You did not know where he was going with this.

“We still wanted to say goodbye, though, so instead we went to the Kingswood and buried the training swords he gave us when we were little. We did it alone.”

“O-oh.” More tears welled up as you realised what he was about to ask.

“I know you have not been allowed a proper funeral for your mother—but is there anything you would want to do, to say goodbye?”

You could not manage a yes, so you instead let out a whimpering sob.

“Meet me at the hour of the wolf tonight, at the bottom floor of the Kitchen Keep,” you said once you were coherent again, and Jacaerys nodded.

XI. DEATH, REVERSED

After Prince Velarion cast your mother out of the Red Keep, the septas, in their unending grace, offered you a kind of cruel consolation: Your mother was always going to be cast out anyway, they told you. She was merely a whore, seducing your father with temptation rather than marrying him out of love. He was always going to free himself from her spell and find the Seven again. This was inevitable.

They also told you, You were not a child born of love. You were born of sin and temptation. Your mother was bound to leave you as well, for her feelings for you were disingenuous; how can a whore love an accident of her sins? But now—her influence is gone, and you can find the love of the Seven instead.

And when Alicent Hightower said, Stop crying, sweetling, the septas are speaking the truth—this is all for the better, you realised that you would always hate her and her Faith.

Maybe you could have found the Seven if it were not for her words, but she ruined her gods for you with that one sentence. You burned your copy of the Seven-Pointed Star; you kicked and screamed as the septas dragged you to the High Septon’s service; you called Alicent a monster when she struck you for your misbehaviour. So horrific was her treatment of you that even Aegon—who had often been on the receiving end of her strikes himself—felt sorry for you.

Not that he actually helped you, of course. Only Aemond spent any time with you though it all, sitting next to you in the dragon pit as you cried.

You did not believe any of it, of course. You were not a child born of sin, for your mother and father loved each other. Your father did so much for your mother—told her he loved her in her mother tongue, grew persimmon trees in the courtyard to keep her homesickness at bay, lit nightfires for her so she could pray to R’hllor. Your father loved her so much that he took her to Lys and decided to stay, even if it meant leaving you.

There was no way he didn't love her. There was no way they didn't love you.

There was no way, and this was what you told yourself every time you heard those whispers: She merely seduced him. She merely used him. He did not truly love her. How could a prince truly love a whore?

And her daughter—that girl is a child of sin. How could they have loved her?

You had become so skilled at ignoring it all, and nearly delighted in being irreverent of it. But despite all of your efforts to laugh at the gossipmongers and the septas, several years of whispers now echoed in your ear as you made your way to the Kitchen Keep. They nicked at your heart, and you wished your mother and father were here to dispel them. But your father was a pile of bones somewhere on Bloodstone, and your mother was lost to the sea.

Your heart was so heavy with these thoughts that you did not say anything to Jace and Luke when they met you at the Keep. You merely dumped two piles of firewood and kindling in their arms and beckoned them to follow you. You led them up a long flight of stairs, carrying a bundle of beautiful silks, until you had all reached the top of some decrepit tower.

The winds were calm tonight, a cool breeze rather than a violent gust. It made it easier to light up the old fire pit—you struggled only a little before you remembered how.

“My mother and father used to come here at night,” you finally explained, your voice tired. “It is a practice at Red Temples in Essos to burn nightfires like this. They are meant to allow R’hllor to protect us from the dark. But there are no such temples in King’s Landing, so my father would do this instead to comfort my mother.”

Jacaerys and Lucerys both listened quietly as they sat next to you, faces lit up by the crackling heat. Luke was not very close with you—you had always felt too awkward befriending him, after the incident with Aemond’s eye—but he had wanted to come to help you honour your mother, so sorry he was for your grief.

He seemed genuinely interested when he asked, “Does it bring you comfort too?”

“It reminds me of my mother,” you said, and the two brothers nodded in understanding.

“And those silks you're carrying?” Jace asked.

“Things of my mother’s that we found in my father’s room.” You looked at them balefully as you took a piece out of the bundle, revealing a golden scarf with Lysene embroidery. “I think—I think I should burn them. I don't have anything else of hers.”

The two of them nodded. You fed the silk to the nightfire, watched as it ate through the gold thread. Your heart clenched as it burned to ash; you had so many times imagined that your mother was wearing this scarf as she walked by the harbours of Lys, holding your father’s hand.

“I always thought,” you said quietly, “that my father took my mother to Lys and loved her too much to come back.”

The both of them stayed silent. Waited.

“But”—your brow twinged—“I do not know what to think anymore. People always said my mother was a whore, you know? That my father married her out of pure lust and would eventually leave her. I always thought they were wrong, because he stayed in Lys and gave up his position here, all because he loved her too much to leave her. But now I don't know what to think.”

You did not know if he truly loved her. If the sword and the silks and even you were really evidence of his love, and not simply evidence that he was doting on his pretty concubine. If the ceremony in the Great Sept of Baelor was truly proof of their devotion, or if it was the impulsive decision of an infatuated man. For your father was supposed to be in Lys, loving your mother too much to return, spending the rest of his days with her in the Essosi sun—but instead he was a pile of bones, and she was lost forever.

You felt a familiar wetness on your face, a burn in your eyes that had nothing to do with smoke.

“But if he had stayed,” Luke asked quietly, hesitantly, “doesn't that mean he would have abandoned you?”

“That would have been fine,” you replied truthfully. “And I thought—I thought they'd visit someday, and I would get to see them again then. At the very least they'd love me enough for that.”

At the very least, you would for one last time be held by people who loved you.

You bit your trembling lip. Now that you'd said it all out loud, you were uncertain if you made sense. “Is it strange that I'm questioning it all now? That for nearly twenty years I believed steadfastly in their love, but now that they are gone, I do not know what to think?”

Neither of them said anything. Luke was looking down; Jace was staring into the flames.

“I wish I could ask them,” you whispered, and this seemed to strike Jace.

“I do not think it strange to question it.” Jacaerys did not look at you, but you knew he was not lying. “I have thought about it many times—about the relationship between my mother and Ser Harwin. I always thought they loved each other and that they loved us, when I was little—but now I'm not so sure. And I cannot ask him, no matter how much I wish for it.”

You gave him a long look, and you were strangely hopeful—as if the knowledge that Ser Harwin loved the three of them would somehow mean that your father loved you and your mother too.

“I do not think,” Jacaerys finally confessed, “that my mother loved Ser Harwin.”

Your heart was wrenched with pain.

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Why?”

“She did not cry after he died.” Jace sounded odd, his voice terse but brittle. “She did not cry and she told us that we shouldn't cry either. Like he meant nothing to us. I think now that he was a distraction for her, or a plaything. If the court whispers are true, then it is not the first time she would have done such a thing.”

“That can't be true,” you protested, perhaps too desperately. Rhaenyra had to have loved him. She risked her station just to bear his children—just like how your father lost his to have you.

But Jace seemed disconsolate. “Why not?” He gave you a wry look. “Bastards are supposed to be born of lies and temptation, not love—at least according to the Faith. If we are indeed the bastards of Ser Harwin and my mother, then we are proof that lies and temptation are all that existed between them.”

You thought of all the septas and their prayers and Alicent Hightower screaming at you to behave. Bastards are not so different from the daughters of whores, you mused. They see us all as products of sin.

“Fuck the Faith,” you hissed, and Jace seemed startled, as if not expecting the edge to your voice, but you did not falter. “I do not believe a person as kind as you could have been born of anything other than love.”

Jace’s eyes widened a little, but then his face settled into a kind of smile. Small, but gentle nevertheless.

“Then I do not think that you could have been born of anything else either.”

The corner of your mouth lifted. You turned back to the fire, eyes still hot, but a little less watery. Your fingers gripped the red-and-gold silk remaining in your hands—your mother’s wedding veil—and you meant to feed it to the nightfire, but you did not. You did not want to let it go.

You did not want to let her go.

“I’ve always thought that,” you confessed, “my mother loved me enough to someday come back to King’s Landing. She promised me, you know. She said she would.”

Jace gave you a soft look. “I'm sure she meant it.”

You wiped your eyes again. “Why do you think so?”

“Just a feeling.” He went quiet for a little, hesitating. But eventually he shared, “Ser Harwin said he would come back someday. He died, of course, but”—Jace looked down—“I believe he was telling the truth. He loved us, I think.”

You nodded, and the squeeze around your heart finally eased. It was entirely illogical, but you somehow knew this was true: Ser Harwin loved his children; that meant that your parents must have loved you too. It only made sense. Your father had wanted to come back for you after one hundred days. Your mother wanted to return after your grandsire died. She loved you so much that she would cross the seas for you again.

She must have crossed the seas again.

Your fingers gripped the veil even harder. Your eyes felt heavy, five days without proper sleep wearing them down. You fought to keep them open.

“You're tired,” Jace said. “You should go back to your room and rest.”

“No,” you said, but your eyelids were fluttering shut anyway, and you felt yourself start to sway. “No—the fire is supposed to burn all night. Until the dawn breaks and the light of R’hllor returns to us.”

“Will that bring you comfort, if it burns until daybreak?” he asked. You began to lie down—curling up on the stone floor.

You answered with your eyes closed: “It will remind me of my mother.”

You entered a strange dream after that, or perhaps a memory. You were sitting around the nightfire with your parents, a child once more. You were shivering and crying, for the wind was cold, and the night was dark and full of terrors. But your father had you lie down, your head in his lap, and he covered you with his cloak as your mother ran her fingers through your hair, and they held you. They loved you. You knew they loved you, and they loved each other too. Your father went to Lys and loved your mother so much that he never came back. Your mother loved you so much that she crossed the Narrow Sea once more just to see you.

And you would, for one last time, be held by someone who loved you.

(When you woke up in your bed the next morning, you were covered by a cloak that smelled of nightfire and dreams.)

END PART III

notes: FUN FACT when i was a teenager i was extremely obsessed over sansan and the cloak = marriage metaphor had a formative influence on me and that has definitely come thru in this fic lol. anyway - thank you for reading!!! i would greatly appreciate it if you reblogged & drop a line if you enjoyed this chapter! <3

[venusbyline]

Bleeding ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 20, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Alicent Hightower x lady in waiting!reader

— type: smut, angst, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: period sex + blood kink

— summary: Alicent did not want to be Queen Consort. She did not want to be King Viserys's second wife. She did not want to be Aegon II's mother. Alicent Hightower just wanted to love girls.

— word count: 2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 20th day, female!reader, young!Alicent, period sex, blood kink, light dubcon, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, rough sex, tribadism/scissoring, argument, nipple play, underage sex, light unconscious sex, mild hurt/comfort, mild angst, lactation kink, breastfeeding, light dumbification, overstimulation, degradation, choking, family issues, crying, dacryphilia, sexism, curse words, implied/referenced cheating, breast worship, religious guilt, sexuality crisis, aftercare, love triangle (Alicent Hightower x reader x Rhaenyra Targaryen), motherhood themes, mommy kink, Aegon Targaryen II mentioned, minor Alicent Hightower x Viserys Targaryen, minor Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, minor Gwayne Hightower x reader, ambiguous/open ending, lesbian!Alicent, bisexual!reader, sub!Alicent, dom!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole @badger-reads @turdettethefirst

— crossposting: AO3

Ever since Alicent had given birth to Aegon, she had grown distant from her best friend, Rhaenyra, and had become more lonely. Rhaenyra did not like Aegon because he reminded her of the male children her father had lost, he reminded her of her mother's brutal death during childbirth.

Sometimes, not even Alicent herself liked her son. Every time she looked at those violet eyes, the rosy cheeks and the silver hair, she was reminded of King Viserys. How he had fucked her tight cunt without even worrying about her pleasure. How she had kept her eyes open throughout the entire act, hoping it would end soon so she could distance herself from the older man's sweaty body and return to her own chambers.

Looking at the little boy made Alicent think about how their fates were set forever. She would just be a brood mare until Viserys no longer had the strength to keep fucking her. And Aegon would be just a lamb in the midst of all that chaos from Targaryen family. An heir, or not. A king, or not. Perhaps just a stupid adult with stupid kids in the future. Just as she probably would be too.

She was so afraid that Aegon would stop being a cute baby and become an evil man. This happened to most men. Their mothers gave birth to them with so much love and they were destined to die little by little watching their boys' development, each maternal disappointment being like daggers inside their hearts and inside their wombs, who had bled so much to bring their children into the world.

Alicent could even picture Aegon in his future, visiting brothels, masturbating like a dog in heat, making bastards in the streets, being a shame not only for the Targaryen family, but mainly for Alicent, his own mother. She wanted to put him back in her womb and stop him from anything evil he could do or be.

"Your Grace, did you call me?" Your voice discreetly entering the Queen's private chambers, avoiding looking at her figure under the sheets. It was nothing you had not seen. You had helped her during Aegon's birth, but you also knew her body for other reasons. You were her lady-in-waiting since her childhood, always close to her despite being a few years older. Otto Hightower had entrusted his daughter's good reputation to you since the three of you moved to King's Landing before her and the King's marriage. You did your tasks splendidly, too perfectly.

Especially into her bed.

"I thought you would not come, love..." Alicent murmured with a more fragile way than she intended and you tried hard not to show any pitying face. You were still angry about your last argument.

"You call me, I come. It is always like that, is not it?" Your passive-aggressive accusation made her swallow hard with shame and self-loathing. She was not the best person to deal with feelings. Ever since her marriage to Viserys, Alicent had been confused. About her faith. About her sins. About her extramarital desires. About Rhaenyra. About you. Especially about you two.

Gods, she wanted both of you so much that sometimes it hurts. Alicent wanted not to be married to the King, she wanted not to have a child, she wanted to be free. She wanted to be a man.

The young redhead fiddled with her fingers for a few moments, sitting on the bed and still covered by the silk sheet. She wanted to apologize for the argument, to say that she would try to talk less about her chaotic friendship or situationship with Rhaenyra. However, she knew that none of this would help. You were angry by her past confession about sleep with Rhaenyra a few times before her marriage to the King. You thought you were special to her. You really thought you were the only one, since Viserys Targaryen was just a puppet in Otto's hands. The affair with her was special. Or at least it should be.

You sighed after her long silence, seeing how Alicent looked away, choosing to look at any part of the chambers that was already so well known to her. "Why did not you call your friend Rhaenyra?" Your mockery tone did not go unnoticed and she flinched.

"I am... Bleeding. Rhaenyra does not like licking my vaginal blood." She said embarrassed. You knew what that meant. Alicent always hated admitting how turned on she was when those days came. The days she was sure she was not pregnant again. It was a mix of relief and arousal. She was so sensitive, so fucking needy...

But this time, you did not lower yourself between her thighs. This time, you looked at her with a cold gaze. So cold that she did not think even the strongest Dracarys from any Targaryen could melt.

"Then you want me to lick all your pretty little cunt to ease your pain and arousal, just because the princess is disgusted by that?" You questioned without a hint of affection that was always there, tearing your light blue dress with gold details with an almost animalistic speed. Now there was only resentment that she was reaping due to her own actions.

Alicent's already big eyes widened, pink lips parted with complete shock, as if you had said the most perverse thing that could come out of a girl's lips. "A-are you insane? Mind your tongue and do not dare to use that kind of language with me!" She tried to growl, to look intimidating. Tried to look like a Targaryen. Tried to sound like Rhaenyra.

But she was not a Targaryen. She was Alicent. Alicent Hightower. The ambitious teenager who spent hours inside the Septs, kneeling in front of some statue. She was also Alicent Hightower, the teenager who begged the Gods for forgiveness and mercy every time she pictured her best friend and current stepdaughter rubbing the wet core with some silver hairs on her lips, while you, her lady-in-waiting, would eat her out until she squirt all over your face.

This thought had appeared in Alicent's mind so many times that she had already surrendered, fucking her fingers inside herself under the sheets several nights. Like a true pathetic whore.

"You have no right to treat me as if you were just my Queen." It was your turn to growl, lower but much more intimidating, checking if the door was really locked before walking towards Alicent's bed with long strides, not caring about her wide eyes as you pulled the sheets away from her body, revealing the semi-transparent nightgown that highlighted the curves acquired since Aegon's pregnancy.

"BUT I AM YOUR QUEEN!" Alicent yelled, trying to deprive your of her dignity, but it was too late. You had seen the dry crimson stain on her fingers, causing you to laugh instantly.

"You are nothing but a spoiled greedy whore. That is what you are." The whisper filled with sarcasm made Alicent curl up even more into the pillow. "How long have you been trying to fuck your disgusting needy hole without even being able to cum?"

Your question went unanswered and you finally snapped, losing your patience and grabbing her neck, pushing her further onto the bed as you climbed onto the bed while you climbing on top of her vulnerable body. "Answer me, Your Grace!"

However, now your plea sounded more desperate and hurt than angry. She could see how your eyes were full of tears and how you were trying your best to fight them off. You hated feeling so hungry for Alicent. She should be your responsibility, nothing more than that. You should not care if she was thinking about Rhaenyra or not, as long as she did not tarnish the reputation of House Hightower or Viserys' reign. "SEVEN HELLS, ALICENT! ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW!"

"Over an hour ago, love. I was thinking about you two, you and Nyra..." Alicent sobbed after your shout, tears streaming down her soft cheeks as well, slightly losing consciousness for a few seconds from crying so much. She did not realize what you were doing with her body until you arched your head back, a strangled moan escaping your lips with pleasure and agony. It was then that she felt a different wetness rubbing against hers. It was not just your juices. It was... It was blood. Just like hers. It was the blood from your cunt mixing with her blood.

"O-oh, Gods. You are bleeding too..." Alicent whimpered, trying to move so she could keep up with the rhythm and give you even more pleasure, but your hands that kept her legs open stopped her. She moaned, looking at you with big sad eyes, which you ignored without any mercy, your gaze focused on the way your blood-stained cunts met each other, swollen clits pulsing against each other.

If it had been before, Alicent would have found it disgusting. She would find it disgusting how you started squeezing her breast when you increased the speed of your hips. Her breasts was still so large and heavy with Aegon's milk, she had created more curves and unfortunately some stretch marks, and you loved every part of all of this, playing with her nipple and smirking between moans when some milk flowed out.

She should find repulsive the way her own milk ran down her belly, some spots reaching the place where the two of you fit. You raised an eyebrow despite the haze of pleasure, as if you were asking permission for something. Instead of answering, Alicent also pressed her own breast, her hand now wet with breast milk, before she reached for both cunts, rubbing yours and then hers, getting them more overstimulated so you could move with more easily.

It was a disgusting mess. The gooey sounds, the blood and milk mixed on your buds, the way her nipple was still dripping. You were the first to cum, biting your lip until blood came out, avoiding moaning the Queen's name too loudly. Your cunt spasmed until your legs shook, your body falling on top of Alicent and the sight of your intense climax made her reach the release too. Even knowing the possible consequences, Alicent did not hold back. She moaned your name like a whore. Like the cheapest prostitute in the brothels on Street of Silk. Like the women that all the Targaryens fucked hidden from their wives. Like the women her firstborn and perhaps her next sons would fuck in the future. Like her future daughter would moan around some man's cock, if one day she had the divine blessing of giving birth to a little girl to try to protect her from all the evil in Westeros.

Alicent caressed your cheeks, grateful that you did not mind the mixture of blood, juices and breast milk that stained your face as she gave you affection, pulling your soft mouth close to her left nipple so that you could be breastfed like a baby. Her baby. You did not know what to say, you were too overwhelmed by the situation. Every argument with Alicent Hightower ended like this, feeding you as if you were a little orphan child and she a childless mother or a widowed wife. A widowed Queen.

"I wish we could be happy, love..." Alicent whispered with some melancholy, placing a kiss on your forehead and letting a tear escape. "B-but... But I hope my brother Gwayne will be a good husband to you. The husband you deserve. The husband I cannot be to you or to Nyra." You did not answer, nodding weakly and looking at your betrothal ring with the perfect green jewel on top. You did not want Gwayne Hightower. You did not want Alicent Hightower to be a man. You just wanted Alicent the way she was. A girl. Your girl. You wanted Alicent Hightower to be your wife. And she wanted that too.

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[mariethesley2]

megumi x fem!reader

"Hi and welcome to the very first video tape of me trying to learn how to cook" .... She looks into the void in contemplation and feels the embarrassment crawl up to her face... "Well it's not like I'm showing this to anyone I'm just trying to document my life, so more precisely : hi to the future me! I hope that by then I would have learnt to cook more decent meals".

She always wanted to document her life with that one camera she has since apparently it's a great way to not go insane as a sorcerer ! but the girl never really knew how to start and learning how to cook was a good starter, from one side she gets to film a simple mundane chore done and on the other she gains a basic life skill, one stone two birds!

"anyways I got these groceries," she says that while showing the bag to the camera "going down the endless stairs AND going back up is such a drag, I really HOPEFULLY I won't have to do groceries that often"

That was her first day in the jujutsu high dormitories and wanted to try the tiny kitchen in her room and what better way than to cook pasta in it?

"so I only found this kind of pasta, " she says looking at the package, it's almost expired. The girl turns back to the camera smiling "looks good to me" "then I got this cheese, I'll grate it later, " she fetches something else form the grocery bag "I also have canned mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, a lil bag of flour I got from home, this tiny cute lil brick of milk I'll use it to make the sauce along with these tiny bits of salt and pepper" she said while presenting one by one to the camera.

"I'll try and cook enough for both me and megs "

She grabbed a pot, filled it with water put the pasta to boil with some oil and salt, despite her being alone, she never stopped talking to the camera, it seems like she has a lot to say...

"ok so I have a question, it's kinda personal but do you think megumi wishes he has friends other than me?? 'cuz at this point i' m starting to think that we're only friends because there was no options or am I imagining things?? " she paused to hear the answer and busied herself with the sauce.

It didn't take long for her to remember that she was, in fact, alone and that the answer she was waiting for was never coming

She let out a little laugh to mask the embarrassment "hah.. I'm barely one day in and I'm already losing it it seems... Yaay..." a small pause followed, "still I hope future me has the answer to this!!"

For the rest of the video she remained silent while preparing the sauce, straining the pasta, putting it in bowl for her to share with megumi, she really wanted for the "meal" to turn out just nice, no scratch that, she wanted it to be at least edible.

While arranging the bowl and spilling some sauce on herself and the camera, and with bits of grated cheese almost everywhere she was finally done "and here it is ladies and gentlemen!! This pasta dish made the one and only me!!" the self proclaimed chef looked at the camera with the biggest smile there is, clearly proud of herself.

The door knocked just when she was about to turn off the camera. She quickly hid it and went to get the door and there was her lifelong friend that she may have a tiny little, unnoticeable and insignifiant crush on, but that's a story for later.

"gojo is as-" before he could even start talking, she quickly cut him off out of excitement "I made pasta!! Come taste it!!" the girl took him by the arm and guided him to the tiny kitchen, she slid a fork towards him on the counter "here, have a taste and tell me what do you think".

"are you serious?? How am I supposed to trust you and your non-existent cooking skills?? You remember the sweet chicken or should I remind you if the time we almost die cremated?? " she shoved a fork-ful of pasta before he could cite anymore of her previous epic fails, "so??"...

clearly wrote this with childhood friends to lovers trope in mind...

Author's note ig: I have no idea what I just wrote honestly, if you read it I'm genuinely sorry for you cuz it's boring af and badly written ik. I just wanted to put it out of my drafts cuz it's been bugging me there. I'll prolly never finish it so if anyone wants to rewrite it well you're welcome to!! And maybe tag me so I could read my idea with a better writing style, thanks!! <3

[gotta-winwin]

SHIPS ~

MINGNA

Cyana and Mingyu have been constantly shipped by fans since the moment she debuted. It just can't be helped - the way he's always attentive to how she's doing and her energy levels while filming. Fans joke that Mingyu has spider senses when it comes to Cyana, somehow always next to her whenever she's in danger (or just needs a steady wall to lean on). The two take the dating rumours and ship in stride, jokingly flirting with each other onstage and during vlogs. After all, they can understand where it all comes from, they are the kpop visuals and could be kpop's IT-couple.

DINONA

Dino and Cyana have been shipped since debut, as fans swooned over how adorable they were as seventeen's twin maknaes. Eagle eyed fans would always pick out moments where Dino's gaze seemed to linger just a bit too long on Cyana, or when Cyana would laugh a little bit too hard at one of Dino's jokes. Although most fans agree that dinona's relationship feels more like siblings, there are some strong dinona shippers who believe the childhood friends to lovers line will happen one day. The two, although embarrassed about the ship when they were younger, found it more funny as they grew older. It's another thing the members use to make fun of poor Dino, while Cyana can only laugh and watch from the side.

MARKNA

There's lots of proof for markna stans that this ship is real, the two are often pictured out on hangouts and in each others comment sections. Both idols are open with showering each other with love and compliments, which sometimes comes off as strangely flirty. However, majority of NCTZENs and CARATs agree that the bond between them is more of one between childhood friends. Mark and Cyana don't really mention the markna ship between them, although they are both well aware and a little embarrassed. The first time a dating article came out about the two of them, neither one could look the other in the eye during their next hangout. It's a tool both seventeen and NCT members use to tease the two.

WOONA

Wonwoo and Cyana, although distant from each other until their second comeback in early 2020, became the most shipped members in seventeen. It was a mix of the way Wonwoo's eyes would melt just by looking at her, his cheeks blushed and lips curled into a small smile. Cyana would often return the look, eyes wide, admiring him. Till this day, fans are still rooting for the couple to confirm they are in a relationship. Everyone knows it by now and are just waiting for confirmation. The duo were originally miffed by the ship before realizing maybe the fans were onto something. They thrived in dropping little bits of information about them together, posting selcas together and interacting more often during GOING SEVENTEEN. Giving fans just enough to leave them wondering...but not enough to fully confirm their relationship.

[viilpstick]

I love Kentin as a Character but he feels kind of like a wasted potential to me

Like he's soo obsessed over MC when he was in the Ken phase and make it hard for me to see him as a love interest After

(Bro followed her to sée where she lived and change school to bé with her☠️(I could let thé last point pass if it was because of bullying hé was victim of )

Plus "Ken" was a whole ass joke and was taken seriously as a love interest only After his Glow up wich kind of make the Mc pass for a supifercial girl 😭

FR

JUDGE ME. JUDGE ME ALL YOU WANT.

BUT KEN WAS SO ADORABLE.

LOOK AT HIM. MF IFTHIS BOY WASN'T THAT OBSESSED WITH MC, I WOULD LIKE HIM BETTER.

like when i first played the game i thought kentin was more of mc's friend, and he followed her to the school bc he didn't wanted to deal with bully alone, my younger self kinda didn't understood he was a bit of stalker-

he had so much potential to be a "friends to lovers" troupe + HIS APPEARANCE NOT MATTERING TO SUCRETTE.

thats even one dialogue who was very sweet where she says she missed the old him, bc he is assuming he looks are all that matter to her (Portuguese translation), BUT AT THE VERY NEXT EPISODE SHE LITERALLY TALKS HOW HE IS BETTER AFTER THE MILITARY SCHOOL

LIKE GIRL MAKE UP UR DAMN MIND.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

as long as he leads the way . .

katsuki's childhood habits remain the same

katsuki still apologizes to you the same way he used to when you were kids.

he always makes a face whenever he knows he’s gone too far or when he’s done something he knows he shouldn’t have, his eyebrows are furrowed and his little chubby face contorts into a sad little pout. he tries to look tough but he can already feel guilty tears in his eyes so he looks away from you, little hands balled into fists at his sides and his head hangs low so you can’t see his red face through his bangs.

usually, he tries making it up to you by showing you something he thinks you’ll like or something he finds cool, and sometimes he’ll even let you hold his precious all might card, but only when he knows he really messed up. he’ll stiffly pet your head as an apology for pulling at your hair a little too hard earlier and if you ask him to he’ll kiss the pain away from when you scrapped your knee because he accidentally shoved you a little harder than he meant to when he was chasing you around.

but when you’re mad at him because he’s been really mean, in ways he knows his shiny holographic all might card won’t fix, he opts to simply sit next to you. with a little pout on his face and with his cheeks turning red, he’ll shove his head into your shoulder. he holds onto you tightly so he’s sure you won’t be able to escape him or his apology. you squirm around a little bit but he doesn’t let you go. you stop moving around but you still huff at him, calling him a big meanie. all he does in response is shoving his head against your shoulder and he mutters out a little "m’sorry." against it.

he hears you shuffle to look at him and he looks up at you, his eyebrows are still furrowed and his cheeks are so red because he’s really not used to apologizing and he doesn’t like to, but he does for you. and even at the tender age of seven, you really can’t stay mad at him when he looks like that, so you forgive him and you’ve already forgotten what you were even mad about when he grins at you boyishly, already back to his usual self as he drags you off to your next adventure who knows where, but even at the tender age of seven, you knew you’d follow him to the ends of the earth as long as he led the way.

he’s changed so much and not at all at the same time. he hates it whenever you get mad at him and he still does everything and anything to get your attention when you are. and just like before, whenever he hurts you in ways he knows his actions can’t fix, he opts to come up behind you and wrap his arms around your middle loosely, giving you the option to break out of his hold if you wanted to. his hold on you slowly tightens when you make no move to, his head is shoved into the crook of your neck and his chest is pressed flush against your back,“ i’m sorry.” he whispers.

it wouldn’t mean much if it came from anyone else but this is katsuki. you’ve known him for as long as you can remember, you know how he is : he’s unruly, headstrong and so stubborn it drives you crazy sometimes. but he casts all of that—all of him aside for you.

“i’m sorry.” he says again, his voice is low and a little shaky.“ shouldn’t have said all that to you. that wasn’t…cool” he fumbles around for the right words to say and you have to hold back a laugh as he does so, but you can tell he’s trying.“never wanna make ya mad at me..” he finishes quietly. he’s fiddling around with the ends of your shirt waiting for your response. then he hears you shuffle around to peek at him and he looks up at you.

he really hasn’t changed. he’s still got the same little frown, the same little crease between his brows and the same rosy cheeks. sure his features are less rounded, his cheeks are definitely less chubby, he’s gotten taller but he’s still your same katsuki who’s a little rough and a big meanie sometimes, but who also always makes sure to apologize to you when he knows he’s hurt you because that’s the last thing he wants.

you grant him a tiny smile. his eyes light up and he stands a little straighter and after a second he’s on you, pressing kisses all over your cheek, grinning boyishly at you and you still want to follow him to the ends of the world as long as he’s leading the way.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Do you ever think about how Aang gets his first kiss with his forever girl at twelve? TWELVE! Twelve is the first Percy Jackson book! Twelve is first or second year at Hogwarts! Rue and Prim, the babies of The Hunger Games, are thirteen! Twelve is so young. Twelve should be firmly in the “friends” stage of friends-to-lovers and I will die on this hill!!!

[kikithefox231]

YALL. LISTEN. THEYRE THE SAME.

AND SO COMPELLING!!!

[calamitoustide]

"am i too late?"

I gotta be so honest I forgot about the prompt list and was very confused for a second 😭😭 but I remembered! and had an idea so I thought I would just write it now

speak now - jegulus - microfic - 1k

Regulus wasn’t even going to go. He was invited, of course, James said he really wanted him there, but he didn’t beg when Regulus said he’d be busy. He wasn’t busy. In fact, his only plans for the day were to sit in his apartment rotting away in bed while constantly refreshing his Instagram to see all the pictures of the party streaming in. He’d see her in her perfect dress and perfect hair. He’d see James lovingly gazing into her eyes, beautiful with the ocean behind him. It had to be a beach wedding. Of course, it had to be. James always had his thing with the ocean. He’d drag Regulus there every single summer to his family's place. Well, every single year until she came along and then Regulus wasn’t as inclined to go. 

Regulus was still James’ best friend, but Lily Evans was… well his everything else. His girlfriend, his fiancé, the love of his life. Now she can  add bride and wife to that list of terms. 

Regulus isn’t at all upset over this. James chose his life. He had his choices and Regulus wasn’t even an option, and that’s fine. He’ll still be apart of his life. He’ll watch his home from the outside, peering into windows and occasionally being invited in for family dinners in a family he’ll never truly be apart of. He’ll be uncle Regulus and nothing more. The guy who comes around occasionally. So no, he wasn’t going to go to the wedding of all things. He doesn’t think he could handle it. He can’t watch the life he wanted go up in flames because he was too stupid to say something. He didn’t say a word and now James is going to be happily married, or well… he wasn’t going to go. 

That was before Sirius called him drunk the night before. It’s a destination wedding, and they all went out the night before as a pre-celebration or whatever you’d call it. It was clear that Sirius had too much to drink, especially when he kept spouting on about how this was Regulus’ last chance. Apparently he had enough of Regulus’ pining and his inability to actually talk about his feelings. He kept going on and on about how Regulus was obsessed with James since he was small. From the moment James walked up to him grabbed his hand and said they’d be best friends forever he’s had Regulus. Even if they were young. Even if Regulus knew nothing of what love meant, he was spoken for. James was it. There was no other light. No other love. He handed over his heart that day and he’s never even asked for it back. Sirius never mentioned it, or at least not since Lily came into the picture. Regulus isn’t sure what made him last night. He’s also not sure what made him buy a last minute plane ticket to Greece of all places. 

He’s late by the time he gets there, and when he’s in the first car he could get traffic is blocked up too far, like an idiot he runs all the way to the venue. He’s sweaty and out of breath by the time he makes it there. He’s definitely not dressed for a wedding he looks awful and his clothes are all wrinkled from the flight but none of it matters. He makes it to the beach. He finds the arch just in front of the beautiful waves, but there’s not a single guest to be seen. It’s vacant. Nothing but the sand and ocean water. 

“Am I too late?” He mumbles, more to himself more than to anyone. After all this time of running behind it really shouldn’t a surprise that when he finally got it together he was too late. He’s always too late but the ache in his heart is the same, like a slice through his liver, and cracks in his ribs. 

“Depends on what you’re here for.” 

Regulus eyes widen as he turns around, to find James behind him on the stairs. Still in his suit, beautiful coated with the colors of the setting sun. “You’re still here.” 

James shrugs, “Had no where else to go,” he says, walking passed him to the sea to stand under the arch. He picks off flowers from the sides of it, watching as the petals fall to the sand, “I couldn’t go through with it.” 

“Oh?” 

James smiles sadly, looking down to the ground as he says, “I thought…” he shakes his head, “When you said you couldn’t make it for a second I was relived, you know,” he says, “I thought I could actually go through with it as long as you weren’t here too. As long as I didn’t see you.” He looks up finding Regulus’ eyes through the aisle, “Without you though it was just so much clearer what I was missing I couldn’t—I couldn’t go through with it.” 

“James…” 

“I understand,” James says quickly, “If you don’t feel the same way. If this is completely out the blue I just—I didn’t love her like I should and it has to be right. It has to be right and I tried to make myself believe that it was but I—“ 

Before James can finish rambling Regulus is already down the aisle and grabbing the front of his shirt bringing him down. Regulus really hates the cliche but deep down it feels like he’s a teenager kissing James now, back when they should’ve figured this out. They were so fucking stupid, and while kissing James, Regulus swears he can feel sparks fly against them; it’s a firework show. 

James pulls away, a smile tugging at his lips, “Oh.” 

“Oh,” Regulus giggles, he fucking giggles, like he’s thirteen or something. He’d be embarrassed if it was anyone but James. Hell, James is giggling too. 

That is until James takes a pause and questions slowly, “Wait, did you come here to break up my wedding?” 

Regulus opens his mouth but no words come out, truly there’s nothing to be said. No defense he can take. So he rolls his eyes instead, tugging James down again, “Shut up.” 

[manicpixiejinxgirl]

So like we all agree that new Ekko poster is referencing some backstory he's getting right?? He's putting on his Firelight "war paint" in the image, and the caption being "From Little Man to The Boy Savior" implies (to me at least) this will be about how he got there.... also the Jinx ring in his hair implying she's going to have a big part to play in that backstory bc of course she is

[rainb0wfish]

i think they are neat