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silhouetted-beauty · 6 years ago

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“Run In: Fate” - Part 7

Genre: Strong Angst with a tiny bit of Fluff

Word Count: 10.4K

A/N: Okay so instead of this being an 8 part series, I think it will be 9 part (idk maybe 10. I’m still working on it). Anyways! Happy Readings!^^

“Yoongi, listen to me, it’s not that I didn’t want to have your baby, I’m just scared to. I’m scared that everything will be perfect; that you, I, and our child will live happily and then it’ll all be taken away. I’d get that call telling me that you are never coming home and I don’t want to experience that. I don’t want my child to experience that either.”

Yoongi closed his eyes at the memory of your words. This was what you were scared of; him missing and eventually being killed off. But he planned of getting out of this alive; somehow. He just hoped you weren’t taken his disappearance badly by worrying yourself sick. Everyone was probably worried about him and wondering where he could be but he knew his friends and family. They were hard at work, trying to find him but you...

“Y/n...” he mumbled at the thought of you.

The last time he saw you, he was the cause of your tears. He saw the hurt in your eyes and if he could, he’d beat his own ass for how he treated you. He shouldn’t have gotten as angry as he did over the news of you having his child. If he was honest with himself, he was actually excited yet nervous of a miniature him running around.

Yoongi smiled. He could picture you now, belly poking out as you sat in the living room reading a book. If he could, he’d sit behind you, running his hands over your growing bump and telling you how much he loved you. Or he’d position his head on your lap, talking and kissing the baby tucked away in the warmth of your stomach. Yoongi wondered if it was a boy or girl, or if you already knew the gender.

The door to the room opened and in walked Sujin, without her loyal servant in tow. Instead, three other men, armed with guns, stood behind her.

“How did your amazing ambush go?” Yoongi teased with a smile. He knew she was up against strong men. His chef and butler were men his father personally picked to defend his property. They weren’t men who were easily defeated.

But Sujin returned his smile. “It went pretty well, seeing how Insu took down one of those stone-cold killers your ‘family’ bragged about.” She stated confidently. “Who would have thought, the man who watched over you as a child, died protecting your home and you weren’t even there. How ironic, wouldn’t you say?”

Yoongi’s mood darkened at the news. Wu Shiwon. He was more than just a butler or his father’s good friend, he was family. He had been by Yoongi’s side for years, if anything, Yoongi considered him as an uncle but most of all, a great friend. Wu Shiwon served well.

“At any case, his death is just the beginning,” Sujin continued. “I’m willing to strike and kill everyone important to you.” One of the men handed a card to her, to which, she holds up to show him a picture of you. You looked the same yet you seemed sad and he could also make out your large baby bump, causing him to believe the picture was recent. The anger in Yoongi rose, causing him to lash out.

“Leave her out of this!”

“You’ve really been a busy man since I’ve been away. She looks to be about five maybe six months pregnant.”

“If you so much as touch her-”

“You’d what?! I’m sorry, Yoongi but I’m the one with the power. I’m the one in control. And to prove it, I think I will pay your little girlfriend a visit. Maybe carve that baby out of her womb and keep it for myself. You know, I’ve always wanted to be a mother. What better way to be on top than to train your child to be the best servant to my business as a reminder of your generosity.” She bragged.

Letting the fury control him, Yoongi stumbled to his feet due to his weak condition. He figured that he had a few fractured ribs but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. Yoongi was ready to teach Sujin a lesson for even bringing you and his child into the picture.

However, those three men stepped forward and tried to subdue him. Yoongi fought hard, striking one in the face before knocking his head against another one. He managed to knock out the third one before he heard a familiar clicking sound. When he turned his attention to Sujin, she had a gun pointed at him. Neither one of them moved as they stared off.

“Alright, enough fun for one day.” She stated as more men came into the room, beating Yoongi to the state of unconsciousness.

~~~~~

You lied in bed, staring out the window at the nighttime sky as you pondered over your earlier conversation with Mrs. Min. You couldn’t believe the news when you heard it. Mr. Wu had died in combat when unknown attackers had tried to seize Yoongi’s house. Now it made sense why you were staying with his parents. Yoongi’s house was no longer safe for you to be there.

You thought about it for what felt like hours, wondering if Yoongi was okay or if he was even alive seeing how he had been gone over a month. You wondered what would happen if he ever came home. Would he be mad or will he allow you both to move pass it?

You suddenly heard voices that made you turn your head towards the door. They were muffled so you couldn’t hear what was said but you distinctly heard a male and female voice, more than likely, Yoongi’s parents. Climbing out of bed, you quietly opened the door and eased a bit closer to the conversation.

They were in the living room downstairs and judging by the talk, Mr. Min was angry and Mrs. Min was trying to quiet her husband before he woke you.

“There’s no lead, no information; nothing to go off of to find him.” He stated.

For where you stood, you could see her shadow rubbing his shoulders. “I know how awful you must feel about all of this.”

He scoffed. “You don’t know that half of it.” He sighed. “Not only did I let our enemies win but they have our son and I’ve once again let you down.”

“I’m not upset with you, honey. I know that Yoongi is alive and will come back.”

“I don’t understand how he could let himself get into this predicament.” His mood suddenly turned to anger.

“Yoongi was upset that night. He wasn’t focused on someone watching him. Things like this happen.”

“And what about that girl?!” He yelled. “She’s half to blame for his disappearance!”

“Don’t talk like that.” His mother stated, not liking that her husband secretly blamed you.

“And why not?! From what you’ve told me, she’s been pregnant for months but just now told our son! That kind of information would make any man lose his mind. Does she not trust him? Does she not have any faith in him?”

You listened, wiping away tears at his words. Of course you had faith in Yoongi. That’s why you blamed yourself for this mess. You missed him like crazy and felt awful about this entire situation. If you had told Yoongi sooner, he wouldn’t have felt the need to leave and wouldn’t have gotten kidnapped. He would have had a different response to the news and things wouldn’t have been blown out of proportion. If only you could go back.

“I’ve tried to give Yoongi the benefit of the doubt about his relationship but clearly it’s more one sided and platonic than I thought.” He continued. “Yoongi needs to find a better-“

“Stop!” She screamed at him. “What if she heard the bullshit you are saying? Do you remember our relationship and how hard we fought to be together? It wasn’t easy, not in the lightest sense, but we fought tooth and nail for it! The entire world was against us! Hell! You didn’t even put forth the effort to keep our relationship going so you should be the last person to talk about platonic love.” She sighed, rubbing her hands through her hair. “Let me remind you that ‘that girl’ is carrying your grandchild and the last of your family line if Yoongi doesn’t come back. He loves and chose her to be by his side. Do you think he’d want to hear you talking about her that way? Placing the blame on her will not wipe away your guilt.”

His father remained silent, watching as his wife walk away in anger. You creped away as quietly as you could before escaping into the dark bedroom and falling to the floor once the door was shut. You couldn’t help the tears that continued to fall from your broken figure. Covering your face, you cried hard; choosing to ignore the slight pain in your stomach. The once sleeping baby inside of you was now moving around as you sobbed. This was not what you wanted; to bring sadness to everyone Yoongi knew. You felt as if you plagued everyone’s lives, making it worse; especially for Yoongi.

Reaching for your phone, you dialed the number of your support system that has been by your side since it all begun.

“Are you okay?” Hyolyn tiredly mumbled into the phone.

“No.” you sniffed.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was now alert with worry.

“I... I just miss Yoongi.” You cried. “I wish I didn’t wait so long to tell him. I wish he didn’t...”

“Y/n...” she sighed. “What happened to Yoongi is unfortunate but you can’t stress yourself out.”

“But I’ve caused this. This is all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s not even Yoongi’s fault. The two of you had an argument, just like any couple. The worse thing about this was that someone was lying in wait and gotten lucky. You’re not to blame and neither is he because neither one of you expected this to happen. Now that’s nobody’s fault, the least we could do is keep our hopes high for Yoongi.“

“But-“

“No buts, y/n. If you don’t want another fight to ensue between the two of you, then you need to take care of you and the baby. Yoongi will flip out if you don’t stay healthy, not only for your sake but for the baby as well.”

“Yeah.” You chuckled through your tears at the thought of him overreacting. He was liable to put you on lockdown and nurse you back to help himself if he needed to. “Thank, Lyn. You’re the best.”

“No problem, now get some sleep. We have an exciting day tomorrow.”

You ended the call, taking a deep breath but you felt better. You also didn’t realize that you were rubbing your stomach, soothing the active baby back to sleep. The thought of the next day gave you butterflies. You would finally know the sex of the baby, something you should have known already but never had the time to do. Before you planned on doing that, you had something else to do.

~~~

The next morning, you had woken up, showered, and dressed in a simple plain dress that showed off your protruding belly. Walking out of the room and down the stairs, you went in search of a specific door. Along the way, you couldn’t help but take in the model of the home and how it was decorated. Although it was decorated quite nicely, it felt as though you were walking through a large museum. If you thought Yoongi’s house was big, it was nothing compared to his parents estate.

“Excuse me, Miss. But I’m afraid you cannot enter.” A man stopped you from getting closer to a tall hardwood door. You studied his appearance and wondered who he was. Judging from how Mrs. Min told you that they didn’t have any butlers, you concluded that he must work strictly for her husband.

“It is important that I speak with Mr. Min.” You stated, trying to shake off any nervousness you had felt.

“Give me a moment, please.” He disappeared behind the door and moments later you heard the muffle conversation between both men. “I’m sorry, Miss, but Mr. Min is beginning a meeting and won’t be free to talk for another hour. Perhaps if you come back-“

“I can wait until he is finished. What I have to say is very important.” You said, taking a seat in a nearby chair.

Mr. Min’s personal assistant watched you with confusion in his eyes before walking away. You sat in silence the entire hour. Occasionally you could hear his father’s deep voice as he talked on the phone but mostly lost in your thoughts of what was going to happening. Your relationship with Yoongi has definitely come a long way but the issue surrounding family has always been a problem lingering nearby that you chose to ignore. Despite both families calling a truce and Yoongi’s mother has been very welcoming towards you; you had gotten the opposite feeling from his father. When you’re around, he doesn’t speak or look in your direction. Besides your parents, who couldn’t make it to the celebration for obvious reasons, the only other person who didn’t come to celebrate your birthday was Yoongi’s father.

His assistant came by and entered the room, closing the door behind him. He was inside briefly before you heard the sounds of the doorknob, causing you to straighten up in your seat.

“My apologies, Miss, but it appears Mr. Min has another meeting that will take more time. If you want to wait-“

At the admission of his words, you stood to your feet and walked straight into the office uninvited. You knew that Yoongi’s father would continue to have meetings just so he wouldn’t have to see and deal with you. His assistant tried his best to stop you by maneuvering you away but you kept shunning away from him. Just as you expected, Yoongi’s father wasn’t too pleased to see you. His face contorted into a slight frown, to which, he didn’t try to hide.

“I’m sorry for intruding but I need to talk to you and I’m not leaving until you hear me out.” You demanded.

His assistant tried one last attempt to get you to leave by grabbing your arm until Yoongi’s father finally spoke.

“Let’s make this quick, I have important business to handle.”

After you both were left alone, you had taken a seat on the opposite side of his desk. The moment you made eye contact, you could feel his unwelcome cold eyes bore a hole through you. You swallowed hard, staring back; refusing to break the hold he had you in. You were going to remain strong no matter what.

“Are you going to talk or not?” He roughly asked. Clearly your presence had annoyed him.

You were quiet at first. “I want to know what is your problem with me? What is it about me that bother you?” You asked, jumping right into the matter.

“On the day when we first met, Yoongi had explained to you about our relationship and you had even called a truce with my father. Back then, I thought you had accepted me but I was wrong. Since that day, you were made aware of Yoongi’s feelings for me but had yet to speak to me and I want to know why? Was it something that I had done? Even now, I can tell that you don’t like me, so much so that you blame me for his disappearance.”

A bit of shock flashed across his face. He wasn’t aware that you had been listening in to the conversation he shared with his wife but it didn’t matter now.

“You are right. I don’t necessarily care for you.”

“Why not?”

“I believe my son can do better when picking a suitor to be by his side.”

“And if that’s not what Yoongi wants... you will have no choice but to accept me.” You stated, trying to keep your anger in check. “I hope you are aware that I’m carrying his baby and that I do plan on being with him for the long run which includes marriage. Whether or not you like me is a problem you’ll have to deal with. I love Yoongi and I’m not going to leave him just because of your preferences. You don’t know how hard Yoongi and I fought to be together and all the bullshit we faced because of it. So I’m here to tell you that no matter how much you hate me, I can’t be scared off easily. The only person that can make me leave is Yoongi so you can either get over your mean ways and put it to better use by finding him or sit in this office and continue to build resentment but it’s not going to get him back.”

You didn’t even allow him time to respond back as you stood to your feet and walked to the door. “Thank you for hearing me out and have a nice day.”

Mr. Min sat at his desk; long after you had left, thinking to himself. Never did he think you’d come barging into his office, giving him an ultimatum over his son. He tried to hide the smile that suddenly appeared on his face as he tapped his chin.

“Um, sir? Is everything okay?” His assistant asked him.

“Everything is fine.” He said, sitting up straight in his chair. “Get me the security footage of my son’s house the night of the kidnapping.”

~~~~~

You lied on your back, staring at the monitor as the technician rubbed the gel over your stomach, trying to find the little person tucked away. Hyolyn stood next to you but she was transfixed on where the baby was hiding as she bounced back and forth from looking at the screen to your stomach.

The technician located fingers, followed by an arm connect to the shoulders and finally, the baby’s head. You licked over your lips as you tried to hide your tears but they fell anyway. There it was, resting peacefully. The three of you giggled when the baby’s hands moved to their face to block out the light shining through your skin.

“There’s the baby. Were you interested in knowing the sex or did you want to wait until birth?” The technician asked, causing you and Hyolyn to glance at each other.

“We want to know now.” Hyolyn spoke up for you. You nodded in agreement. Both of you were equally anxious to find out the gender.

The technician moved the knob around, moving down the baby’s stomach to their bottom half.

“Okay, it looks like you’re having...”

~~~

You had returned to Yoongi’s parent’s house later on that night after spending the day with your best friend. The two of you had lunch then went shopping for the baby. The entire time Hyolyn gushed in excitement. She talked about everything from meeting it, to babysitting and spoiling the hell out of it. She even talked about rushing home to seduce Matt so they can have their own. All you could do was laugh while smiling at the ultrasound pictures.

You walked into the living room and found Yoongi’s mother seated on the couch, watching her favorite television drama. When she spotted you, she smiled.

“Hey you. Where have you been all day?”

Instead of answering her, you pulling the pictures from your bag to show her. She could barely speak as she clutched her chest in surprise.

“Oh my g-... is this my grandchild?” She smiled, trying to calm down and wipe her eyes.

“Look at the next picture.” You told her and when she did, you wished you could have captured her reaction on camera. Mrs. Min screamed then laughed before bursting into tears. She placed the photos against her chest and held them there. All you could to do was smile while watching her, occasionally wiping away tears.

She pulled the pictures away to look at them again. “Baby Min.” Next she addressed your stomach, rubbing over your bump. “Grandma is going to build a nursery here so you can have your own room to grow up in. Would you like that?”

Just then, you both felt the baby move around; causing you both to look up and laugh. The next few hours, you both talk of excitement over the baby and the future. You didn’t realize how complete the baby was making you feel. Now all you needed was Yoongi.

~~~~~

Sujin lied in her big, soft, comfy bed; sipping her wine and watching a drama near its climax. Her leg was thrown over the other in a seductive manner and the fact that she was only wearing panties under her silk robe, made her feel more like a powerful seductress who had the world in her hands. A certain scene of the protagonist being denied of the man she couldn’t have, had triggered a memory from her past.

“You are not allowed to follow after your brother. Do you hear me, Sujin?” Her mother scolded her.

“But Frankie-“

“If I catch you mixed up in that mobster bullshit, there will be serious consequences.”

Sujin was unable to fall asleep that night, feeling as though she was missing out in life. She had overheard Frankie on the phone, planing on leaving out late in the night. He had begun working for the Min family, and she heard many stories about the younger son that she wanted to meet him. Was he as good looking as all the girls said? Is he as ruthless as all the boys bragged? Is he as scary as the newspapers proclaim?

At around two thirty that morning, Sujin heard her brother getting ready to leave. She remained in bed, listening as he moved around his room before the bedroom door opened and closed. In an instant, Sujin was up and looking for something to wear to follow him. Deciding on a black club dress, she held her heels in her hands as she snuck out of her room; tip-toeing down the hallway and pass her parents’ bedroom.

Sujin was about to sneak out of the back door when it suddenly opened. It had caught both of them off guard but kept quiet as to not wake their parents.

“What are you doing up?” Frankie asked. “Better yet, where are you going dressed like that?”

“Come on, Frankie. I just want to meet him.” She pleased.

“Mom doesn’t wait you tied up in what I’m doing. Why don’t you just go back to bed?”

Sujin crossed her arms with an attitude. “No. I don’t care if I get in trouble, I’m coming with you.”

Frankie didn’t have time for this. He was running late and Yoongi had already expressed how he disliked tardiness. Maybe there was a way to get his sister there and back without anyone noticing.

“Fine, but I’m bringing you back home right after you meet him.”

“Deal.”

The two of them gotten into the car and rode to the location Frankie was given. They pulled up to a gentleman’s club where several black cars were parked outside. Getting out of the car, they walked inside the establishment and Sujin couldn’t believe her eyes. Talking to someone she assumed was the club owner, stood Min Yoongi. His blonde hair greatly stood out against his all black clothing and he looked so handsome that Sujin had a hard time tearing her eyes away from him.

When he suddenly glanced in her direction, she felt her heart stop beating. She has gotten even more nervous when he suddenly came over.

“You’re late, Frankie.”

“I know, but-“

“I’ve grown tired of giving you warnings. Instead of enjoying yourself after the meeting, maybe I should make you clean my car. Perhaps that will make you on time for next meeting.” Yoongi stated harshly. Sujin didn’t mind witnessing her brother get scolded. All it did was confirm her thoughts on the leader.

Frankie sighed. “Please, I will be on time next time.”

It was silence between them as Yoongi thought it over. “Have Namjoon fill you in on what you’ve missed and Frankie... don’t let it happen again.”

Sujin watched her brother walk off, leaving her there with Yoongi. He glanced in her direction one final time before he, too, walked away. Sujin didn’t know why but that little encounter was not enough for her. She needed more so she had begun secretly following him around the club, watching him interact with a series of people.

When Yoongi walked behind a door meant for staff members, she waited on the other side for him to emerge.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were stalking me.”

Sujin heard a deep voice in her ear that made her spine straight. When she turned to face the voice, she was once again standing before the big boss. She put on her best charm to hide her nervousness.

“Stalking is such a strong word. I prefer to believe I’m admiring a God.”

This caused Yoongi to smirk, taking a sip from his drink. “I see that you came with Frankie. Are you related to him or something?”

“Yes, he’s by brother.”

“I hope the gene of idiocy doesn’t run in the family.”

Although she should have been offended, Sujin laughed. “I can assure you, my brother is the odd one out.”

“Well that answers one question,” Yoongi swallowed his drink. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to meet you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve heard so much about you and wanted to see for myself if it was true.”

Yoongi smiled. “And what did you conclude?”

“That you are a very intriguing individual and I want to know more about you.” Sujin bravely stated.

“Yeah?” He asked, trapping her against a nearby wall.

“...yeah.” She breathed out as Yoongi leaned his face in.

“Then... get your things and walk out of the door.” He moved away completely which caught her off guard. She thought for sure, he was going to kiss her.

“Wa- why?”

“Because I’m running a business and this isn’t a situation to satisfy whatever thrill issues you have. You’re better off going home and being a good. The bad life doesn’t suit you and it’s obvious. You’re liable to shit your pants if I pulled out my gun.”

“I’m tougher than I look.” Sujin stated, suddenly growing offended. She suddenly wanted to prove herself to him but didn’t know why.

“I don’t have time to go back and forth with you. You can either go home or I can have your body deliver to your parent’s front porch. Your choice?” He coldly stated as two women came over to him, wrapping their arms around him and stroking their hands over his body. One of the girls had begun kissing his neck while the other begun unbuttoning his shirt. All the while, his gaze never left hers. It was then that Sujin realize that she overstayed her welcome. Feeling bested, she turned on her heels and walked to the door.

When she turned around, she watched the three of them disappear behind a door of the club and felt her jealousy rise. After meeting with Min Yoongi, she wanted to make a long lasting impression on him and possibly become not only his potential partner but his girlfriend.

The quiet cab ride home had Sujin more upset than she realized. She finally gotten a taste of the dark side life and became addicted. She wanted more, she needed more. She felt like a kid who had stayed up past bedtime, only to be scolded and forced to go to bed. That life was the life for her but nobody understood that but one day... she will prove them all wrong, especially Min Yoongi.

Her bedroom door opened and the crime lord, himself, was thrown inside with her men waiting for more orders.

“That will be all for now. You may leave.”

They poured out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Sujin stared at Yoongi just as his dark eyes stared at her. They remained that way until she was the first to say something.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” Just like she thought, he didn’t say a word. “You know, Yoongi. I’ve been very generous with your overall treatment, only for you to continuously spit in my face. I’ve fed you well; I’ve invited you into my bedroom, and even offered you a drink.”

Sujin gotten out of bed to pour herself another glass of wine, swallowing some of it back. “It’s very disrespectful.”

“That just a matter of opinion.” Yoongi finally spoke.

“How so?”

“If I have to answer that for you, you’re just as stupid as I thought you were.”

That gotten Sujin’s attention. She finished off the last of her drink, placed the glass down, and walked over until she stood right in front of him.

“I think you’ve gotten the wrong idea about me, Yoongi.” She said seductively as her hands slowly rubbed up his arm. “We’re basically on the same side, not to mention, you owe it to Frankie.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t about revenge?”

“And it’s not”, she said. “I just wanted you to see where I’m coming from with all this.” Her mouth moved closer as she traced up his neck to his lips with her mouth. “With a little persuasion, I think I can get you to join in... possibly help out.”

“Yeah? And how will you do that?” He asked.

“If I have to give you the answer, then you’re not as smart as I assumed you are.”

Their lips connected together in a kiss. Sujin felt as though she was floating on a cloud. Finally, she had the man she wanted to impress for years, in the palm of her hand. She had him in her room; kissing her while his pregnant girlfriend was at home worrying herself sick. How deliciously powerful. But Yoongi was selfish as he was rich. He didn’t care who he hurt because he only looked out for himself.

The kiss had deepened and soon became a battle for control. Yoongi’s hands slowly rubbed the sides of her thighs, wandering up her robe. Sujin moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him closer. Once his fingers came in contact with the bottom lining of her panties, they traced up both of her ass cheeks until he came in contact with something hard.

Yoongi quickly pulled it out, broke away, and turned her around; holding Sujin in place with his hand wrapped around her throat.

“You wanted me to go to bed with you, yet you carry a gun with us.”

“I don’t want to kill you.” She gasped. “I was going to offer you to work with me, we could be partners.”

“And if I said no, you would have shot me, huh?” He stated roughly.

“Mm, you still like it rough, I see.” She teased with a smile on her face.

“Shut up.” Yoongi commanded, tightening his grip around her neck.

He maneuvered her around the room, trying to find a way to escape. Sensing his distraction, Sujin picked up a nearby glass and threw it, breaking it against the solid wall. Her men heard the commotion and stormed the room, finding the position they were in. They all pulled out their guns aiming it in the pair’s direction. Yoongi had changed targets from her men to her, pointing the gun against the side of her head. If they shot him, he was taking her with him. Insu walked into the room, pulling out his gun as well.

“Think about this, Yoongi.” Sujin began. “You’re out numbered.”

“Numbers mean nothing to me.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t but think about your family. You’d really risk your life trying to escape?”

“If it meant getting away from you, I’m willing to take that risk.”

“Y/n seems like a nice girl. Too sweet to be with a devil like you.”

“What’s your point?”

“That’s what I told her when I visited the bakery where she works,” she stated, causing Yoongi to zone out. Sujin was lying. She didn’t talk to you especially about him but little did he know, she was telling the truth.

Sujin walked inside of the small bakery, taking a look around before walking directly up to the counter.

“Y/n, I presume?”

You were a bit taken back by a stranger knowing your name, let alone coming into your job asking about you specifically. “That depends on who wants to know.”

She offered her hand to you. “My name is Kang Sujin. The Min family hired me to help find Yoongi. I work with a series of investigators and I wanted to meet you personally to see if you remembered anything about the night he disappeared.”

There was a single table with two chairs positioned to the side for anyone meeting to place decorative cake orders; the two of you sat there to talk. Her eyes lit up as she watched you walk from behind the counter, showcasing your large belly.

“I honestly don’t know how I could be of help finding him. When he left home, I didn’t follow him.” You said to her.

“That’s fine. Any little detail could be of use. Now you were in the car with him on his way home, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Did you notice anyone following the car?”

“Not really but then again, I wasn’t paying attention to other cars on the road.” You responded, feeling a bit down for not being able to do more. “I’m sorry.”

Sujin placed her hand over yours in an effort to comfort you. “You’re doing great, y/n. You’re a great girlfriend and honestly, I’m surprised Min Yoongi found such a sweet one.” She laughed. “When I met him years ago, he was such a cold hearted man. Someone like him doesn’t deserve someone like you.”

“Um.. thanks, I guess.” Confusion flashed across your features as an uncomfortable feeling soon came over you. “I need to get back to work, I’m sorry I can’t be more of help to you.” You stood to leave, immediately walking away without giving her a chance to say another word but unbeknownst to Sujin, you had called Yoongi’s mother to tell her about the meeting. When she told you that she didn’t hire any investigators, you became frightened. She sent men to come get you and also to check the perimeter of the bakery. Sujin was long gone.

Namjoon and Hoseok came to review the cameras and saw the woman who came to meet with you but she didn’t look familiar nor could they find anything when looking up the name she had given. They were left with nothing but knew she was possibly involved in Yoongi’s disappearance.

“Don’t be stupid, Yoongi.” Sujin continued. “You know what I’m capable of. Hwang Jongsoo, I know you had seen what I did to him and his family. Matter of fact, his wife was pregnant, was she not?”

Yoongi remained quiet as he weighed his options but he didn’t have much time.

“Come on, let y/n live.”

If he continued to use Sujin as a shield, they would kill him off instantly and possibly go after you. He couldn’t have that so he’d have to delay his stay for just a bit longer. Even if that meant letting Sujin believe that she’s won.

Yoongi had released her, dropping the gun on the floor in a surrendering manner. Sujin smiled before picking up the gun and striking him in the face with it. But that wasn’t all, the door closed as her bedroom soon became a torture chamber.

~~~~~

This particular day at the bakery had grown increasingly slow. There weren’t many customers that visited the shop. Jungkook’s grandparents had left for the day to make a delivery, leaving the two of you to mind the place.

Jungkook rested his head on the glass containers, watching as you swept the floor. Once you had gathered the trash in a pile, you had trouble bending over to clean it up.

“I’ll do that for you.” He offered, taking the broom from your hands.

You concealed your smile as you moved away to watch him. Since you’ve returned to work, he has been offering to help you a lot more than usual. Perhaps he was over the ‘you dating a mobster’ thing. Jungkook had finished cleaning and joined you behind the counter. He watched you out of the corner of his eye as you ate a cupcake and read your book. You seemed like your normal self, better than the days when you came to work, obviously upset.

“Are you going to continue to stare at me like a creep?” You suddenly said, catching him off guard.

“I’m not staring at you!” He quickly stated turning his head away to pretend something else caught his attention. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction as he tried to play it off. “Actually... there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“You’ve been coming to work sad. Is everything okay?” He paused for a second. “D-Did something happen between you and your boyfriend?”

You stared at him, about to answer when the bell on the door rung out. There was a customer but before you could help him, gunfire suddenly erupted, drowning out any other noise.

You froze in fear at the sound, watching as the customer was shot to pieces as bullets flew into the bakery. Jungkook tackled you to the ground just as bullets hit where you were standing. You felt on your side covering your head as everything was destroyed. Glass, wood, and other materials scattered over the both of you. Jungkook was just in shock as you were but he realized that whoever was shooting had automatic weapons and wasn’t going to stop until you both were dead. That left two options; to stay there and die or chance it and risk an injury.

He helped you up, pulling you close to him as he held your head in his hands. He could see the tears threatening to spill because of the fear. “Y/n, listen to me! We have to leave, we can’t stay here! Otherwise we die!”

You nodded, suddenly bursting into tears. “Okay.”

“Stay close to me. If we can make it up to my grandparent’s apartment, we can hide out there.”

He tightly grabbed your hand, eased the broken door open. Counting to three, both you and Jungkook jump up on your feet and ran upstairs. Your adrenaline was at an all time high but you quickly noticed that you had been grazed by a couple bullets, leaving blood dripping from your cheek, arm, stomach, and leg. Insu watched it all go down behind his dark shades. He took his cigar out of his mouth, signaling to his men to go after you.

When you made it to the apartment door, the gunfire stopped and multiple footsteps could be heard stepping on glass and debris as they entered the bakery. Jungkook kicked opened the door and pulled you inside before barricading it shut with furniture. He quickly looked around for somewhere to go, realizing that it wasn’t safe to stay there.

“Shit!” He began to panic.

“Jungkook...” you called to him but he didn’t hear you. He was thinking of an escape route. “Jungkook!”

“Not now, y/n! We have to get out of here!”

“But... you’ve been shot.”

When he looked down, his shirt was covered in blood; more specifically, his left side. Now that he had calmed down a bit, Jungkook felt pain not only in his shoulder, but his arm too. He had been shot twice and if he didn’t get away, he was liable to bleed to death.

“The roof!” He quickly thought. “Come on!”

He took you hand again and pulled you through the apartment and out through a window to the metal staircase. Just as he closed the window, he heard them enter the home. Jungkook let you climb up first and followed close behind you. Once on the top of the building, he pulled you with him and he jumped down to the next building over. Luckily they were right next to each other so it wouldn’t have been a difficult task for you. You sat down, throwing over one leg at a time. Jungkook held onto your waist as he helped you jump down. He led you over to a secluded area and the two of you hid there.

There, you both tried to catch your breath while examining the damage. Your injuries weren’t as serious as Jungkook’s; he really needed medical help. Placing your hands on his wounds, you put pressure on it. His breathing was slowing down to the point that you were crying for fear that he was dying. It all felt like deja vu and you began to panic.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. This is all my fault.”

“No...” he tried to sit up but was too tired to do so.

“If I didn’t work at the bakery, you wouldn’t have gotten involved.” You sobbed. “Hang in there. Please don’t die on me!”

Jungkook held your head in both hands staring you in the eyes. “Y/n! I will be okay! Don’t worry yourself.”

You were still scared but took his word for it and about ten minutes later, you heard the sounds of police sirens and ambulances. Thankfully, the culprits were gone when they arrived. This time, you helped Jungkook to his feet and led him to the ledge, waving down someone for assistance. Thanks to the fire department, they were able to get you both down from the roof. Jungkook was taking to an ambulance to be treated and you were right by his side.

After receiving your call, Jimin fought through the crowd to find you. When he spotted you, you looked like hell. He called out to you and when you noticed his presence, you rushed into his arms, crying uncontrollably. It took a while but he was able to get what happened out of you. Jungkook watched as Jimin led you away before he was driven off to the hospital, leaving him to wonder what will happen.

~~~

Jungkook was resting peacefully in a hospital bed when he heard the door open and close. Remembering the earlier events had him on high alert. He leaped from his sleep only to find the man that had taken you away there.

“What do you want?” He asked, ready to signal the doctors if he needed to.

“Calm down. I just wanted to check up on you after all your help.” Jimin stated, causing Jungkook to relax a bit.

“Y/n sent you, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but I also came because I wanted to. My name is Park Jimin.” He came closer into the room.

“I’m Jungkook.”

Jimin studied the young man. “First, I want to thank you for what you did today, saving her life and keeping her safe.” He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and passed it to Jungkook. “Second, I was informed that the bakery belonged to your family. That should be enough to cover the damage as well as compensation for your help.”

“Thanks but you didn’t-“

“It’s the least I could do to show my thanks.”

Jungkook nodded, hesitating a bit. “Is y/n okay?”

“She’s doing better.”

“Is... is there a chance that I can see her again?”

Jimin shook his head. “That I cannot answer.”

“Oh, I see.” Jungkook went quiet, wondering the reason why they were keeping you in hiding. Of course your life was in danger but he didn’t pose a threat to you. Why couldn’t he just see if you were okay, with his own eyes?

“What will happen now?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Jimin sighed. He was torn between what he should do and what he wanted to do. He wanted to find the people responsible and go to war, ending all of the unnecessary bloodshed. Realistically, he couldn’t make the call and put Yoongi’s health in further danger so the only option was to wait.

“For your safety, I will have a few of my men guarding you room so don’t be alarmed.” Jungkook nodded, watching as Jimin walked to the door. “Rest well and recover.”

~~~~~

Yoongi was staring at his bruised hands in a daze when the door opened to the room he was in. Sujin and Insu, followed by a couple other men entered the space.

She held an item in her hand that Yoongi couldn’t tell what it was at first.

“It’s been well over a month, Yoongi. It’s time to get down to business.” Sujin exclaimed. “For the last time, give me your company or at least make me your partner, otherwise; I will take matters into my own hands.”

“Quit with the threatening bullshit! I’m not giving up shit and I’m not giving you shit!” Yoongi snapped. “Do you know how much money you’re missing out on because you’re here trying to take what I have? It’s a waste and you’re waste! Do what you have to do as a so called ‘leader’ but I will never work with you because you’re weak!”

Sujin stared down at Yoongi in anger as she tried to control her breathing with deep breaths. “You have a point.”

She took the handgun from Insu and shot Yoongi in his upper chest, closer to his collar bone. Yoongi yelled out in pain, gripping his wound as blood coated his clothes and skin.

“There’s no point in keeping you around anymore. I might as well build an army and overthrow your family.” She tosses a book in front of him. A book that not only had bullet holes through it but also blood. “Once I eliminate you, you can join your pathetic girlfriend in hell.”

Yoongi’s eyes flew to Sujin’s face in shock. She had to be lying. There was no way she had killed you. It had to be a lie. Sujin tossed a couple of photos at him as well, to show him the damage of the bakery. He looked through each picture as he tried to control his anxiety.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” She boasted. “My team did a wonderful job clearing the place out yesterday. If only you could have seen y/n face when it happened. Her and her coworkers didn’t know what hit them. Unfortunately, this is all that’s left of your girlfriend.”

She walked closer, squatting down in front of him. “Once again you’ve gotten me mistaken, Yoongi. I’m far from weak, I’m powerful in a sense that I’ve brought down the ‘oh so scary Min Yoongi’ to his knees by getting rid of one person... I’m sorry, two. She was pregnant, wasn’t she?”

When Yoongi looked up into her eyes, Sujin could see the hell in his dark orbs, trying to escape. She was ready to shoot him dead when one of her men interrupted her torture session.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Ma’am, but you have an important phone call. I think it’s one of your partners.”

“Thank you.” She stood to her feet and walked to the door, pausing a moment to address Yoongi. “Sit tight for a minute. I will be right back to kill you.”

Everyone cleared out of the room, leaving him alone for the time being. Two men were placed by the door to watch over him. No one was allowed to enter the room without Sujin’s or Insu’s permission. Yoongi stared at the book for what felt like hours. His own injury grew further away and his mind began to focus solely on you. That was the same book that he had seen you read while lounging around the house, it was yours. Flipping through the pages, he tried to control his shaking hands after seeing more than a dozen pages stained with blood.

Yoongi felt dizzy and ill all at once. He could barely think and his stomach was turning in knots. And as painful and weak his body felt, he stood to his feet; stumbling towards the door. He wanted to bust it down but realized he couldn’t. Yoongi struggled to stand up and eventually fell back on the ground. His vision going in and out and ultimately, he drifted out of consciousness.

The two men heard the loud thud of a body falling and quickly opened the door to find Yoongi in the state he was in. They rushed to his aide, figuring that he was dying from his wounds.

“Min? Min?” One of them called to him, kicking Yoongi’s leg with his foot. Nothing. “Shit! This isn’t good. We have to alert Madam Oh.”

But before either one of them could do that, Yoongi suddenly jumped up, knocking one of the men in the face and taking his gun. He aimed it at the other’s chest; pulling the trigger and killing him close range. Acting quickly, he turned his attention back to the man and executed him, all without alerting the help.

Taking the other gun, Yoongi slowly eased out of the room he was held captive in and struggled down a hallway. This was it. He only had one chance to escape and if he died in the midst of it, at least he tried. Armed with two handguns, Yoongi shot and killed anyone that came into view. He wasn’t giving them a chance to return fire; they were all going to die. Along the way, he exchanged his weapons for more powerful ones and ones that would do more damage.

Sujin and Insu instantly turned their attention to the sound of gunfire. Sujin ended her call and Insu armed himself ready to fire at any given moment. Yoongi peeked around the corner, checking to make sure the coast was clear but quickly moved back when bullets hit the wall. He grunted in pain, taking a deep breath to prepare himself and jumped out firing.

He managed to hit three men, clearing his path. Just as he found stairs that led up, Yoongi spotted a phone and made the conscious decision to use it. He balanced his attention from dialing a number and checking to make sure nobody would pop into view with a gun.

Yoongi breathed a sigh of relief when Namjoon picked up. “Joon-“

“Yoongi?! Is that you?!” Namjoon couldn’t believe his ears when he heard his voice. For a moment in time, he assumed Yoongi was dead.

“Yeah, but I need your help.” He groaned.

“Anything! Tell me where you are! I’m coming to get you!”

“That’s the thing; I don’t know where I am. I’ve been in some basement or warehouse. I assume this is the only phone.”

“Shit!” Namjoon yelled in frustration. He wasn’t going to let his best friend die and judging by how bad he sounded over the phone, he assumed Yoongi was in big trouble. “Come on, Yoongi. Tell me something to go off on; anything.”

Yoongi tried to think of how Namjoon could get to him but he kept drawing blanks. He didn’t know where he was and he wasn’t in a good enough condition to travel far. He couldn’t stay by the phone for too long, assuming more men were liable to show up. If only he could keep Namjoon on the phone until he was able to get some place familiar... that’s when it hit him.

“Namjoon, trace the call!” Yoongi quickly stated. He could hear the sound of footsteps getting closer. “It’s our only shot. I’ll leave the landline on and pray that the call doesn’t get disconnected. Use the number to track down my location. I should be nearby.”

“I’ll try my hardest.” Namjoon stated, already in his car; heading towards the club. He had to act quickly before the enemies caught on to the plan and disrupted the call. Barely able to put the car in park, Namjoon raced inside. His mind was in shambles that he failed to call anyone else. He sat at the computer, typing the unknown number.

With help on the way, Yoongi checked his weapon and headed upstairs, shooting anyone along the way. When he made it to the top, he noticed that he now stood in a decorative ivory and gold mansion that over looked the ocean. Sujin had him locked away in the basement of her house.

Hearing a faint noise, Yoongi turned his head to see Sujin trying to slip away. He chase after her only to be knocked down by Insu. The gun fell from his hands and Insu took that chance to deliver kicks to Yoongi’s torso. He continued until Yoongi seemed unable to get up. Before he could walk away, Yoongi grabbed his feet, knocking him to the floor. He was on top of Insu in a heartbeat, punching him repeatedly in the face and slamming his head against the floor. The two of them rolled around, tussling for control.

Insu managed to elbow Yoongi in his stomach, gaining the upper hand. He stumbled away from him, ready to deliver another kick but Yoongi grabbed his leg; pushing him backwards. Insu scurried towards the gun, cocking it, and firing. This time, the bullet hit his pelvis but Yoongi was too fueled by rage that he didn’t feel a thing. He charged at Insu, knocking him down and wrapping both hands around his neck. Insu stared up at the man that he had tortured countless of times. For a moment, he feared for his life as Yoongi’s lips curled into a smile at the sight of his loss of breath.

“Did you enjoy all of the innocent people you’ve killed?” Yoongi growled in anger. “Did that kid you kill on the street look as scared as you are now?” Insu tried to fight against Yoongi, but he wasn’t budging. In fact, the grip on his neck tightened as Yoongi thought of you. “And y/n... I’m going to make you regret ever laying eyes on her.”

Pleasure lights lit up his entire body, as Insu entered his last stage of living. Sujin kicked Yoongi in the same side of his chest he had been shot in causing him to fall back on the floor. She grabbed Insu and helped him to his feet as they stumbled away. Yoongi jumped up, about to chase after them when several men, all armed with assault rifles, lined up and began firing at the house. Everything was riddled with bullets, glass shattered everywhere; nothing could withstand such a powerful blast.

Yoongi crawled along the floor, looking for a way out. When he found exit, he quickly escaped, stammering to the street. As he limped away, Yoongi finally took notice to the pain he was feeling. He dripped a trail of blood behind him as he maneuvered between buildings to escape the men that had begun looking for him. Leaning against the wall in a hidden passage, Yoongi tried to catch his breath.

Namjoon closed in on the property, looking around for any signs of his friend. The house he was held captive in was surrounded by several dilapidated buildings, all of which did an excellent job hiding it. He was becoming overwhelmed, fearing that he may have been too late. It was then that he spotted someone in bad shape, stumbling down the street. He had gotten out of the car and ran to Yoongi as quick as he could, catching him as he fell weakly into his arms. Namjoon held onto him tightly, finding it hard to believe that after all these weeks, Yoongi was alive. He was alive and now safe. Namjoon couldn’t help the tears that had fell from his eyes.

~~~~~

You were lying on the couch, bored out of your mind with nothing to do. Ever since the shooting at the bakery, Mrs. Min had kept you under strict lockdown. Thankfully, any wounds you had received were now healed. However, you couldn’t go anywhere and anything you needed, was brought back to you. Although you should have felt grateful, you couldn’t help but feel like a prisoner. You weren’t use to the constant surveillance and people waiting on you, hand and foot.

Even at the moment, everyone was out while you were stuck in the house. Mr. and Mrs. Min were out on business while everyone else was working. You let out a sigh as you sat up. If only you had someone to talk to then maybe you wouldn’t be so bored.

“Yes, sir. I understand. Is Mr. Yoongi okay?” You heard his assistant say.

They had left him there to look over you but it was like he wasn’t even there. He barely talked to you and only reported to Mr. Min about anything you requested. But the moment Yoongi’s name was mentioned; you were off the couch and easing closer, eavesdropping on the phone conversation. “I hope he makes a speedy recovery. You stay for as long as you need to. Everything is fine here.”

Your heart leaped at the news. Yoongi was alive! He was okay and his parents were with him. It’s been too long and you needed to see him. You couldn’t go another day, let alone hour without seeing him. You almost became choked up but swallowed back your emotions. You waited until the assistant emerged from the office before you confronted him. He opened the door to find you with your arms crossed, staring a hole through him.

“Why was I not informed that Yoongi was safe?” You asked with a frown on your face. He was initially taken off guard, wondering if he should tell you.

“I was just informed as well. Mr. Min had gotten a call saying that Mr. Yoongi was in the hospital.”

You felt your heart break as tears filled your eyes. “I want to see him.”

“I’m sorry but I was told not to let you leave. If his enemies were to get you, they might kill you.”

“Fuck his enemies! I want to see Yoongi right now!”

“I’m sorry but my orders come from-“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence as you grabbed his shirt and slammed him against a nearby wall.

“Fuck your orders! Fuck whatever you were told! If you don’t take me to see him right now, I will walk out of that door and go to him myself!”

With no other options or possible solutions to his problem, the assistant had driven you to the hospital, prepared to face the consequences because of it. Once inside and checking with the front desk, you raced towards Yoongi’s room with your heart beating a million times per second. Tears were already dripping from your chin as you tried to remain positive. If Yoongi was in the hospital then that meant he was hurt bad and if his parents didn’t want you to know about it meant that it was serious.

You located the room and found everyone inside; his father, mother, Hoseok, Namjoon, and even Jimin. You walked inside gathering everyone’s attention. They were shocked to see you there so suddenly but not surprised. They knew you would want to see him the moment you knew he was rescued. When you laid eyes on Yoongi, more tears fell from your eyes.

He was asleep and he had tubes coming from his nose, several more were sticking from his arms. He was hooked up to monitors, keeping track of his breathing and heart rate. It pained you to see him in this condition and approached the bed, taking a seat in the closes chair. You took hold of his hand and just sat there, staring at his face. You remained that way even after it hit nightfall.

“Come on, honey. Let go home and let him rest. We will come back first thing in the morning.” His mother told you but you shook her off.

“I’m not going home without him.”

“Y/n...”

You turned to face her. “How could I leave his side and not worry that he will be okay?” You suddenly began to sob. “I don’t want to lose him. I need to be here in case he wakes up.”

She wiped away her own tears understanding completely. Instead of leaving, she decided to stay with you; wanting to be there when he opened his eyes. His father left men on every floor and outside of the hospital, just for precaution. The two of you took turns watching over him throughout the night, not that you had a choice. You could barely sleep for a few hours without waking up in fear that it was all a dream and thinking Yoongi was gone.

When the sun finally came barreling through the room, Yoongi began to stir in his sleep. His mother went to get the doctor right away as you stayed by his side. You sat on the bed, taking his hand in yours.

“Yoongi...” you called out to him.

Slowly but surely, his eyes opened and focused on the figure in front of him. Yoongi quickly sat up, grabbing you by the arms. His heart rate increased, causing the monitors to go off. His eyes stared into yours as if he was trying to find any falsehood in his reality. You were alive.

“Y/n... you’re...”

“Right here.” You completed his sentence with a smile.

He hugged you tightly, hiding his face in the crevice of your neck. Your stomach poked into him, letting your baby feel its father for the first time. It didn’t matter if moving about caused him pain, he needed to feel you; to hold you because he honestly didn’t want to wake up if he had to live his life without you.

When you tried to move away, Yoongi held onto you tighter; keeping you rooted in place.

You whined with a light chuckled. “Yoongi-“

“Give me a minute.” He mumbled, interrupting you. It was something about the way he said it that made you freeze all movements and do what he said.

As you sat there holding Yoongi in your arms, you felt dampness on your shoulder and his light sniffles. That’s when you realized. You close your eyes and listened for the first time as Yoongi cried to you.

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actuallymollyweasley · 7 years ago

Text

kids of the in-between: ch. 14

aka “Ticking Backwards”

Honestly, you’re all amazing for being so patient all this time, and I hope this chapter was worth the wait! Managed to finish just in time to celebrate the end of the beauty that was Pynch Week haha. Feel free to ask to be tagged in future updates if you want!

Read all parts: on tumblr | on ao3

One second, Adam was highlighting his calculus lecture notes from last week in an effort to try and remember how the hell he was supposed to answer the questions in his problem set. The next second, Blue Sargent had somehow managed to snatch up his notebook and highlighter, toss them onto his bed, and perch herself on his desk, all in a single motion. She then proceeded to smile at him as if this was completely normal.

(Although Adam supposed that because Blue Sargent was involved, it kind of was.)

“Hello, Adam.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. She was using her customer-service voice, the one that managed to convey I'm running on two hours of sleep so you can be polite to me or die just by the way she shaped her vowels. “Blue. What do you want?”

“Can’t I just want to talk to my best friend, whom I love dearly and never see anymore?”

“You can,” Adam said. “But you generally do that from your own desk, not mine. Also, it's not my fault that you've only slept in your own bed three times in the last week.”

“Adam!”

Blush was an interesting color on Blue. It clashed rather horribly with the neon green streak Noah had dyed in her hair the other day—but the neon green streak also clashed horribly with her ripped purple overalls, so maybe it all balanced out in the end.

“I'm just saying,” Adam continued, “don't try to pass all the blame off on my double shift and weird boyfriend.”

To his surprise, that statement made Blue eye him carefully. “That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”

“The double shift?”

“The weird boyfriend, you idiot.”

“Could have gone either way,” Adam argued, although he couldn't quite keep the corners of his mouth from twitching. “What about him?”

Blue snagged one of his pens and started doodling on her overalls, as if owning ripped purple overalls wasn't anti-establishment enough already. “How are things going between you two? Since your… since that phone call?”

“They're good,” Adam said, and was surprised to find that for once in his life, he actually meant it. Good wasn't something he came across very often.

Blue drew a suspicious smiley face on her overalls. It sported a single raised eyebrow and a curled mouth and a judgmental stare that pointed directly at Adam. “So no problems at all?”

“I said good, not perfect.”

After all, Ronan had blown into this very dorm room yesterday morning to show Adam a caricatured painting of Gansey that he'd created using Gansey's sleeping face as a model. Adam had been working at his desk with his deaf ear pointed toward the door and all his focus directed toward his assignments. When Ronan had let the door slam shut behind the tail end of his hurricane, Adam had flinched. It had been instinctive, and unavoidable, and had nothing to do with Ronan himself, and he had still freaked out and left and refused to talk to Adam for the next several hours out of misplaced guilt.

So they were working on it.

But that was good too. It was nice to work for something that Adam actually thought he could get.

“There's already too much perfect in our friend group,” he continued. “Henry and Noah never even frown at each other, and don't think I didn't notice that Gansey’s wearing a lavender polo shirt today.”

“Coincidence,” Blue insisted.

“You guys matched outfits,” Adam replied, unrepentant. “Ronan and I have to have disagreements just to balance out the rest of you.”

“That's a terrible reason to have a fight.”

“You yell at Gansey for wearing boat shoes every day just to keep up your three-week streak.”

“This conversation isn't about me and Gansey.”

“The thing about a conversation,” Adam said, “is that you shouldn't start one if you don't want it to go both ways. Why are you suddenly asking about Ronan?”

At that, Blue finally looked up from the drawings on her overalls, rolling Adam’s pen between her palm and the desk. “I just… Are you sure you want to stay here for Thanksgiving instead of coming home with me? Because I know that you don't want to cause issues with money, but you know my mom always cooks too much food anyway, and you really wouldn't be imposing and my baby cousins would love to see you and I don't want you to have Thanksgiving with Ronan just because you don't think you have any other options.”

“Oh, Blue.” Adam reached out, rolled the pen out from under Blue’s hand, and started drawing. “I'm staying here for a lot of reasons. One reason is that I don't want to go back to Henrietta so soon after telling my father that I don't need to.”

“But Adam,” Blue protested, “you shouldn't—”

“Another,” Adam continued pointedly, “is that Calla always looks at me like I'm either going to destroy the house or fall down dead at any moment, just because she knows I notice when she's doing it. Also, your mom always burns the turkey, and Ronan has never actually burned anything that he's cooked in front of me. Not to mention that I genuinely like Ronan and am looking forward to making out with him over break. I'm pretty sure all of those are valid reasons. Do you disagree?”

Blue looked at him, blinked, looked down at the vines now twisting across the hem of her overalls, and sighed. “No. I just had to make sure I didn't need to beat Ronan up for you. And I was hoping I could convince you to come so I wouldn't have to suffer through my mom’s burnt turkey alone.”

“And the truth comes out,” Adam grinned, capping his pen. “Don’t worry about it, Blue. I'm sure Orla will show up with her husband for Thanksgiving dinner so she doesn't have to cook anything herself, and if Orla enjoys doing anything with you, it’s painting nails and complaining.”

“You got me there,” Blue said, then paused. “You realize that I'm never going to be able to wash these overalls now, right? These drawings are a symbol of our friendship and ability to have serious conversations without deflecting. I have to preserve them forever.”

“All I did was make squiggly lines,” Adam said. “If you really want something worth preserving, hand them to Ronan and give him a Sharpie.”

“He'd just write the lyrics to the Murder Squash Song across my ass.”

“Or he'd draw something really thoughtful on your front pocket and pretend Chainsaw did it.”

Blue considered that statement. “Knowing Ronan, he'd do both.” She clapped both hands on his shoulders—a distinctly Gansey gesture—and looked him in the eye. “He really is perfect for you.”

Then she hopped off his desk.

“Did you just… give me your blessing?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Isn't that Gansey’s job? Are you assigning each other parental duties now?”

“Sorry, gotta go, meeting Henry to tear holes in our clothes and drink tea from his expensive mugs.”

“Henry would never defile his vintage Madonna t-shirts and designer jeans.”

“My and Noah’s clothes,” Blue corrected. “Have fun with your calculus.”

Blue had been his best friend for over three years at this point. Adam didn't know why he kept making the mistake of attempting to understand her.

“Now, I restocked the coffee beans and cereal—and remembered to buy milk this time, before you ask,” Gansey said, glancing around the kitchen like the cabinets would help remind him of what he wanted to say. “Ronan said you two were fine to do the grocery shopping on your own, but I didn’t know if you would get a chance to go out before breakfast tomorrow so I wanted to make sure you didn’t have to worry about that. The lock on our door is still broken, so you might want to push the couch in front of it at night just in case. Declan and Matthew are welcome to stay in my room if they don’t want to book a hotel. I’m planning to return Sunday afternoon around four, but if anything happens before then, just give me a call and I can be back in three hours. In fact, if you think I might need to be here for any reason at all, say the word and I can cancel my plans. Maybe I should just call Helen right now and tell her to let Mom know that I can’t make it home for Thanksgiving after all. I’m sure she’d underst—”

“Gansey.” Adam had been planning to let Gansey tire himself out, but this was getting out of hand. “I have been self-sufficient for the last ten years. I'm pretty sure I can handle a week in the dorms, even if that week does involve Ronan.”

“Dickface,” Ronan called out from inside his room.

“Are you talking to me or Gansey?”

“Yes,” Ronan said.

Gansey’s face contorted like he wasn't sure whether to feel offended or amused. “Regardless. You'll call me if the need arises, won't you?”

“Yes, Gansey, we'll call you.” Adam pushed at Gansey's rolling suitcase with his toe, watching with satisfaction as it bounced off the kitchen cabinets and slowly rolled back. “Now go enjoy your Thanksgiving.”

“You too.” Gansey considered Adam for a moment and then held out one hand for a fistbump. It was absurd and boyish and brilliantly Gansey, and Adam accepted it with a smile tugging at his lips.

Gansey's responding grin was blinding as he reached down and grabbed the handle of his suitcase. “Ronan, I'm leaving!”

“Good fucking riddance!” Ronan replied before sticking his head out of the doorway. “Watch your shifts into second gear. That's when the Pig stalls out most often.”

Adam wouldn't have thought it possible, but Gansey's smile widened. “Thanks, Lynch,” he said, and then he was gone, and Adam and Ronan were alone.

Adam turned and raised his eyebrows at Ronan, who very purposefully turned around and retreated back into his room. Unfazed, Adam followed him. “Second gear, huh?”

“You're the mechanic,” Ronan said. “Didn't you notice?”

“Oh, I noticed,” Adam said, “but I wasn't the one who made sure that Gansey knew too.”

“Shut up,” Ronan said, and kissed him.

They'd been dating for a few weeks now, but kissing Ronan Lynch still felt like starting a wildfire. Adam had to break away before they burned down the whole dorm.

As he did, he eyed the extra sheets draped across half of Ronan's room. “When are you going to let me see what's under those?”

“When I’m fucking done with it.”

He frowned. “‘It?’ Is all of that for one art piece?”

Ronan shrugged. “Dr. Azalea.”

“But I thought you already turned in your last assignment.”

“This,” Ronan gestured vaguely, “is for my first assignment.”

Adam felt his heart collide against his ribs, a bang rather than a thump. “Happiness?”

“Yeah.” Ronan tugged the sheets more securely over his stack of canvases. “It's stupid.”

“It's not.” Adam reached out and took one of Ronan's hands in both of his, rubbing his thumbs over Ronan's knuckles. “Now come on, what are we supposed to be buying for tomorrow?”

“This was a terrible idea.” Ronan looked about five seconds away from throwing the pasta he was cooking out the window. “Adam, why the fuck did you let me cook? We should have met them for lunch somewhere. I shouldn't have let them come here in the first place. We should have driven to D.C. We should have stayed here by ourselves. Fuck, this dish is shit.”

Adam peered over Ronan’s shoulder. “Doesn't look like shit to me.” He snagged a bite of penne with a fork before Ronan could stop him. “Doesn't taste like it either.”

“It’s shit compared to my mom’s,” Ronan said, and that was startling enough to make Adam turn off the stove and take the spatula from Ronan’s slightly shaking hands. He hadn't heard Ronan mention his mother since before his father had died. Actually, he'd never heard Ronan mention his mother at all.

“Ronan.” Adam frowned at his boyfriend’s hands, trying to find the right words. He'd never been particularly skilled at offering comfort. He'd never really needed to be. “It doesn't have to taste like your mom’s to be good. I'm sure they'll love it.”

“Matthew might,” Ronan muttered. “Declan’s going to hate it.”

“He won't,” Adam insisted, but the look on Ronan's face told Adam he knew that Adam had no idea what he was talking about. He was an only child, his parents were both alive and terrible, and he had never met Declan Lynch before in his life.

“I mean it,” Adam said, not sure how he would back up that statement, and then there was a knock at the door.

Ronan tensed, gave the pasta one last stir, opened the door—and was promptly tackled by a medium-sized bundle of brightly colored clothing and hair like sunshine.

“Ronan! I've missed you so much! Your hair is so short! How is college?”

It's mostly like high school,” Ronan said, voice a little rough, “but with better friends. Are you still growing?”

“Like a weed,” came from behind Matthew’s mass of curls. “If you don't watch out, he’ll end up taller than you, Ronan.”

“Doubtful,” Ronan said, shoulders stiff but eyes still soft because Matthew had stuck his tongue out at him in response. “Are you coming inside for lunch or what?”

“Or what,” Matthew replied, although he was already passing Ronan in the doorway.

Adam hid a smile in his shirt collar.

At the same moment, Matthew caught sight of him and bounded forward like a wayward basketball, only skidding to a halt to extremely vigorously shake Adam’s hand. “Hi! I'm Matthew, Ronan’s brother. It's great to meet you! What’s your name?”

Adam’s smile froze onto his face. Had Ronan seriously not told them—

“Hello, I’m Declan Lynch, and you must be Adam Parrish.” Ronan's older brother slipped past Matthew to introduce himself. He had Ronan’s sharp cheekbones, the type of suit that a millionaire would wear for a casual evening out on his own personal yacht, and a handshake with half of Matthew's enthusiasm and twice his firmness. “Matthew, don't you retain anything Ronan says?”

“I retain the things that matter, like that he said lunch was ready,” Matthew retorted. Then he glanced at Adam. “Um, not that you don't matter, obviously. I just forgot that you were going to be here the whole time. But now I'm even more excited to meet you! Ronan’s never had a boyfriend before.”

The Lynch in question was currently glaring at the pot on the stove—probably because he couldn't bring himself to glare directly at Matthew, Adam thought with amusement. “Shut up,” Ronan said, “and grab a plate.”

“I'll shut up if you let me drink beer with lunch,” Matthew said.

“Not a fucking chance,” Ronan replied.

Adam had no way of proving it. But when he turned around to shut the front door, he was pretty sure he glimpsed a small smile on Declan’s face.

The rest of Wednesday went so well that Adam had to refrain three times from asking Ronan what he'd been so worried about. As he’d expected, Matthew had nothing but compliments to bestow on the food Ronan made, and Declan didn't mention it at all, which Ronan claimed was its own kind of silent approval. After that, they spent most of the afternoon shopping for last-minute groceries—or rather, Ronan and Declan argued about what they needed to buy while Matthew stealthily added cans of whipped cream to the shopping cart behind their backs. By the time they reached the checkout line, there were at least fifteen cans tucked between the bags of sweet potatoes and fresh green beans, but the older Lynch brothers placed each new can on the conveyor belt without a word.

Declan made dinner and spent most of the meal talking about his job.

Matthew begged Ronan for beer unsuccessfully half a dozen times.

Ronan painted all through the night, telling Adam that with a little luck, he could be finished by the end of Thanksgiving break.

And then Thursday morning came.

Adam woke up to yelling, which was both familiar and discomfiting. For a moment, he couldn’t distinguish reality from his dream about the double-wide trailer he’d grown up in. The sheets felt scratchier. The room felt smaller. He even thought he heard the sound of breaking glass.

But then Declan shouted, “And it’d be nice if you’d answer your phone every once in a while,” the polar opposite of anything Robert Parrish would have said to his son, and Adam refocused.

“It’s college,” Ronan snapped. “I’m fucking busy.”

“Oh, please, you’re an art student.” Declan’s voice was scathing. “Don’t bother pretending that you’re drowning under some heavy workload.”

Adam decided to grab a pair of sweatpants and open the door before somebody got punched.

“Good morning,” he said pleasantly, doing his best to pretend that the walls weren’t paper-thin. “You’re up earlier than usual, Ronan.”

“Didn’t sleep,” Ronan growled, which Adam already knew. “I was working on an assignment for class.”

“And I’m sure it’s very pretty,” the eldest Lynch brother said. Ronan was still silently fuming behind the kitchen counter, but Declan’s expression had shifted from derisive to politely neutral the moment he caught sight of Adam. “Good morning, Adam. Would you like some coffee?”

“I’d love some,” Adam said.

“Sugar? Cream?”

“Just a little cream is fine, thanks.”

“Gross,” Ronan muttered.

“You’re gross,” Matthew said over a yawn, wandering into the hallway. “What are we talking about?”

“Coffee,” Ronan said.

“Oh, yeah. That is gross.”

Adam furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought you two were staying in a hotel room?”

(It was the type of decision he had a feeling he would never understand—in his opinion, spending money on a hotel when there was a perfectly usable bed and couch in the suite was a frivolity and a waste. But Declan had thought a hotel room would be more comfortable, and so the money was spent.)

Matthew rubbed a hand across his eyes, yawning again. “We did.”

“But Matthew said he was going to use the restroom and ‘accidentally’ went back to sleep on your friend Gansey’s bed,” Declan explained.

“Lame,” Ronan said. But this time he reached out and ruffled Matthew’s hair, so Adam figured things would be all right.

Less than an hour later, the Lynch brothers were arguing again.

“What do you think you're doing?” Declan demanded.

“Making the spice rub for the fucking turkey, like I said I was going to,” Ronan growled.

“With those spices? You're doing it completely wrong.”

“No, I'm fucking not.”

“It doesn't need sage.”

“Yes, it does.”

“How would you even know?”

“Because I actually cared about helping Mom out with Thanksgiving dinner, unlike you, and I listened when she was teaching me! It's parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, like in that fucking song, but without the parsley because who the fuck needs parsley anyway. And then if you’re not a fucking idiot, you’ll remember that it also uses salt, pepper, and garlic powder. That's what she told me.”

“Yeah? Then I'm sure she would have loved to hear you repeat it back like that.”

“Guys,” Matthew whined.

Ronan turned to him. “Matthew, you always hung around the kitchen at Thanksgiving too. Tell Declan that he's wrong.”

Matthew bit his lip, eyes darting between the two of them, and said, “I'm sorry. I don't remember how Mom made it.”

Declan and Ronan both froze for such a long moment that Adam inexplicably remembered the drawing he’d seen on Ronan’s wall the first time he ever entered his room—Declan and Matthew wrestling in the grass, Ronan perched on Niall’s back, and Aurora Lynch smiling softly in the background.

Which was worse? To have never felt the kind of love that the Lynches offered each other, or to grow up surrounded by that love, only to have it all ripped away in a single bloody morning?

Declan sighed. “Maybe it has been too long since I helped Mom in the kitchen,” he said. “Go ahead and do what you want, Ronan.”

Ronan’s knuckles were white as he gripped the edges of the mixing bowl. “Who even fucking cares about the turkey anymore?”

“I do!” The turkey was lying on the other end of the counter, so Matthew nudged it within Ronan’s reach. “Come on, Ro, I’ll help you with the turkey.”

“I can start peeling potatoes,” Adam offered.

Declan stiffened like he had forgotten Adam was there. But when he turned to face him, his smile looked unshakable. It would have been enough to make Adam question whether Ronan and Declan were actually related, except that they shared too many facial features. “That’d be great, Adam,” he said, as if tension wasn’t stretched between everyone in the room like bungee cords just waiting to snap. “But I don’t want you to feel like we have a monopoly on tonight’s menu. Do you have any family recipes you want to make?”

Adam flinched—but a quick look at the rigid lines of Ronan’s back told him that one family’s worth of drama was enough for this Thanksgiving, so he covered it by pulling the bag of potatoes closer to him. “No,” he said simply. “My parents never cared much for Thanksgiving.”

Ronan snorted, and not kindly. “You can say that again.”

Matthew looked between his siblings and Adam, frowning. “So. What are we doing for lunch?”

Lunch was an argument, as Ronan thought they would be too full to eat dinner and Declan thought he was just trying to be difficult. Cooking was an argument, as they were constantly bumping shoulders and using each other's mixing spoons and changing the oven temperature. Chainsaw flew into the kitchen at one point, looking for scraps, and that sparked yet another argument, as Declan couldn't decide which was more horrifying: that Ronan had broken the dorm’s rules to get a pet, that said pet was a raven, or that Ronan was planning on feeding her some of the leftover turkey later.

When the Lynch brothers got along, it made this too-large-for-a-couple-of-college-freshmen dorm feel like a home.

When they were fighting, it made this too-small-for-a-couple-of-angry-boys dorm feel like a certain double-wide trailer that Adam was still trying to put behind him.

And on top of that, he was developing a migraine—because everything sounded louder when you could only hear out of one ear.

So when Matthew went digging through their grocery bags, surfacing only to exclaim that they had forgotten to buy pumpkin pie filling, Adam jumped at the chance to get out of Walton.

“I think there are a few grocery stores just off-campus that are still open on Thanksgiving,” he said. “I can bike around and see if any of them carry pumpkin pie filling.”

“Oh, we couldn't ask that of you,” Declan said.

“It's really not a problem,” Adam replied. “Besides, I want pumpkin pie just as much as Matthew does.”

“Don't be stupid,” Ronan said. Then, when Adam turned to frown at him, “It’s fucking freezing outside.” And he tossed the keys to the BMW at Adam.

Adam caught them out of reflex and sheer luck, furrowing his eyebrows. If he'd been having a shitty day, how much shittier had Ronan been feeling? He’d spent the entire day arguing with the only family he had left. “Ronan,” he started, and then hesitated, not wanting to offend Declan. In the end, he settled on, “Do you want to come with me?”

Ronan just shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nah,” he said. “Gotta keep an eye on the turkey.”

Adam frowned at him again, but when Ronan didn't budge, he had no choice but to leave.

Buying pumpkin pie filling on Thanksgiving afternoon took Adam almost an hour. It turned out to be more difficult to find an open store than he'd anticipated, and if he'd lingered in the one store he had found, walking through every aisle and relishing that it was quiet enough for him to hear the buzz of the fluorescent lights… well, no one could prove it.

In any case, by the time he returned, Ronan was no longer in the kitchen. Instead, his awful electronic music was blaring inside his room.

“The turkey finished cooking, so Ronan decided to let us make the rest of dinner while he went back to painting.” Declan didn't roll his eyes, but with that tone of voice, he didn't need to.

“Well,” Adam replied, “he’s extremely dedicated to his art. He wants everything he works on to be perfect. That's what makes him such a good artist.”

Declan looked like he couldn't imagine Ronan Lynch being dedicated to anything. “Good for him,” he said, sounding unconvinced. “Were you able to find the pumpkin filling, then?”

Adam nodded.

“Awesome!” Matthew sprang up from where he'd been lounging on the couch. “Do you want to help me make the pie, Adam?”

What Adam really thought he should do was check on Ronan. But Matthew’s eyes were shining with excitement, and Adam found himself unable to refuse.

Between making pie, throwing together a few side dishes, and reheating the turkey once everything else had finished baking, hours passed without Adam noticing. Suddenly it was seven o’clock, and dinner was ready.

“We usually try to eat by five,” Declan said, sliding into his chair at the kitchen table, “but with putting everything together ourselves, I suppose delays were inevitable. I hope you don't mind, Adam.”

Adam thought Declan must not have actually gone to college to believe that a seven o’clock dinner was some horrible catastrophe. “It's fine,” he assured him. “Should I go get Ro—?”

“RONAN!” Matthew shouted out of nowhere, making Adam jump. “DINNER!”

“He's fifteen feet away, not five hundred,” Declan chided, although even he seemed unable to properly discipline Matthew. “I’m pretty sure you didn't have to scream that loudly in order for him to hear you.”

“Yeah, but it was fun,” Matthew grinned. “And apparently necessary, because he's STILL NOT OUT HERE!”

A pause.

“RONAN?!”

“I'm coming, I'm coming, Jesus,” Ronan said, shrugging on his leather jacket as he came out of his room. “I had to finish the thing I was working on, calm the fuck down.”

“We were all waiting for you,” Matthew said, in a supercilious tone he could only keep up for half the sentence before breaking into giggles, but Adam’s eyes narrowed as he took a second look at Ronan’s hands.

Declan followed his line of sight and frowned. “Ronan… Ronan, are those bandages? Are you all right?”

“Calm the fuck down,” Ronan repeated. “My hands slipped, it's not a big fucking deal.”

Declan’s frown only deepened. “You cut yourself… on art supplies?”

“Ever heard of a palette knife?” Ronan said, scathing.

“Nope!” Matthew broke in cheerfully. “Now come on, Ronan, sit down, we have to pray.”

Ronan's shoulders stiffened. “Right.” He sat down next to Adam. “I guess that's your job now, Declan?”

For the first time since Adam had met him, Declan looked visibly uncomfortable. “Actually, I was thinking we could all say it together?”

Ronan clasped his hands together so tightly, Adam thought it must be hurting the cuts on his palms. “Fine.”

He bowed his head, and after a moment, Matthew and Declan followed suit. “Bless us, O Lord, and these, thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ Our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” Adam said along with them, although he wasn't sure he believed in gifts or bounty, let alone a benevolent God who supposedly offered them. It just seemed like the polite thing to do.

When they were done, Matthew's head popped back up like a puppy's. “Okay! Let's eat!”

Declan smiled, passed Matthew the mashed potatoes, and stood up to begin cutting into the turkey. Adam got so caught up in filling his plate with green beans and sweet potato casserole and stuffing and peas and turkey and gravy and cranberry sauce—he may have been getting three meals a day from the dining hall, but putting as much food on his plate as he could, whenever he could, was second-nature by now—that he didn't look over at Ronan until he'd sampled everything in reach.

“Ronan,” Adam said, “this turkey is amazing. Whenever I go to Thanksgiving at Blue’s house, her mom always burns it and makes us eat it anyway, but I… Ronan, why is your plate empty?”

Ronan was staring off at nothing.

“Yeah, Ronan, if you don't get some food soon, I'm finishing off the sweet potato casserole without you.”

No, not nothing—the empty chair at the head of the table.

Adam started to get a hard feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Ronan?”

Ronan stood abruptly and nearly knocked his chair over. “I need a drink,” he said before heading toward the refrigerator.

“A drink,” Declan said drily.

Ronan threw open the refrigerator door.

“Are you serious? Beer on Thanksgiving?”

He grabbed one, seemingly at random, and slammed it on the counter. “Yeah, Declan, beer on fucking Thanksgiving. Who's gonna stop me?”

“I—”

“No, I mean it,” Ronan said. “Who's gonna stop me? Because Mom hasn't spoken in months, Dad’s dead, and I don't have to listen to a word you say. You're not our fucking parents.”

Declan went completely still, as if this was another one of Ronan's paintings. Adam thought he knew which emotion Dr. Azalea would accept this one for. Heartbreak.

“Shit,” Ronan said, “I’m sorry.”

The door slammed shut behind him when he left.

For a moment, silence.

Then, “Ronan, wait!”

Matthew scooted out of his chair and hurried after him.

Adam got up and ran to Ronan's room, intending to use his window to see if Ronan headed into the parking lot, but when he finally tugged Ronan's door open, he couldn't do anything but stare.

At last, the sheets Ronan had been using to hide his happiness assignment had been tossed aside, leaving the project in full view.

It was a wreck.

Adam thought Ronan had actually been proud of how his artwork was turning out, but that was clearly no longer the case. Several of the canvases had been slashed through, while others looked like they had been kicked in. A paint tube had been squeezed out over a few more, leaving behind red paint hardened and flaking to the touch like dried blood. Preliminary sketches had been torn up and scattered over the mess, perverted confetti celebrating creative disaster. And when Adam finally remembered to lean out and look for Ronan, all he noticed was another pile of Ronan's ruined paintings that he’d apparently thrown out of the window. Everything was just—

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s his art,” Adam said. “He's been working on these canvases for weeks, insisting that he was getting close to finishing, insisting that his next idea was going to be the right one, and now it's all destroyed.”

But when he turned around, Declan wasn't staring at the ruined paintings. He was staring at the objects that Adam had gotten used to after spending so much time in Ronan's room.

“What?” Adam asked. “You can't tell me you don't know about Ronan's dreams.”

“Of course I know about his dreams,” Declan snapped, his eyes too wide and horrified to make his harsh tone effective. “But these are…”

Adam looked around and tried to remember how it had felt to see Ronan's room for the first time. The unnaturally bent sword, the twisted clock that ticked backwards, the dark stain on his floor that was now mostly hidden by ripped canvases and red paint…. That pit in his stomach came back. He'd known the objects weren't exactly fun dream souvenirs, known they could even look menacing, but they were just dispersed among the other objects, right? Tucked between self-bouncing balls and clocks that worked properly, hidden behind dream lights and whimsical inventions? Everyone had nightmares sometimes, and anyway, Adam hadn't seen Ronan dream up anything bad since that night at the campground. Of course, he hadn't been around Ronan every night—but he'd been around sometimes—and Ronan had never objected when Adam asked to spend the night, he'd never said that there was anything to be worried about—but then he was always the one who woke up first, and last night he had never fallen asleep at all.

“This isn't normal,” Adam said. It wasn't a question because he already knew the answer.

He knew it wasn't normal.

But Ronan had been so happy for the last few weeks—he’d thought Ronan had been so happy—that he'd stopped worrying.

Adam felt, abruptly, like a terrible boyfriend.

“No, it’s not normal,” Declan said derisively. “None of this is fucking normal. I haven’t seen him dream like this since…”

“Since Kavinsky?” Adam guessed.

“How do you know about Kavinsky?”

For some reason, the question snapped Adam into action. “This may surprise you,” he said, “but being in a relationship occasionally requires communication.” Except, apparently, when you destroy weeks’ worth of hard work. No, that’s not worth mentioning at all. Adam pushed the thought out of his mind. “Listen, Declan, I still have Ronan’s keys. That means he can’t have gotten that far. You should take your car and look around off-campus. He likes to go to St. Agnes or Nino’s, but check liquor stores too. I’ll search his usual on-campus hideouts because you can’t exactly find those on Google Maps.”

Just then, someone started banging on the front door. For one hopeful moment, Adam thought Ronan might have changed his mind about storming out. But when he flung the door open, only Matthew was waiting on the other side, red-faced and breathless.

“I tried to run after him, but by the time I went into the hallway, he was already gone. I went down the stairs and looked around, but I couldn’t—I couldn’t figure out which direction he’d taken.”

“That’s okay, Matthew,” Adam said. “We’re going to find him. You stay here in case he comes back, all right? Do you have my phone number?”

Matthew shook his head, so Adam took Matthew’s phone out of his hand and punched his number into his contacts, sending himself a text so he would have Matthew’s number as well. Then he did the same to Declan’s phone, grabbed his coat off the couch, and felt in his pockets to make sure Ronan hadn’t taken his keys without Adam noticing after all. They were there, a cool and hard and reassuring weight.

In the same time span, Declan had barely managed to put on one shoe. “You seem to have this search-team business down to a science. Have you… has something like this happened before?”

Adam felt something shatter inside of him. “Not in a while,” he managed to say.

Then he was gone.

Adam checked everywhere. Every classroom Ronan had bribed or broken his way into, every tree he’d sketched, every bench he’d fallen asleep on. By the time he got back to Walton, it was almost nine, Thanksgiving dinner was a forgotten feast weighing down the kitchen table, and nobody had been able to find Ronan Lynch.

Finally, feeling guilty and desperate, Adam called Gansey.

“Adam! I’m so happy to hear from you! I hope you’re having a lovely Thanksgiving. I’m just,” he hiccupped, “watching Food Network with Helen. Because obviously we haven’t seen enough—hic—food for one day.”

Gansey sounded sleepy, wine-drunk, and content. Adam could picture him leaning against Helen on an extravagantly luxurious couch in their living room, even though he had yet to actually see a photograph of Gansey’s sister. It made him feel even worse about saying, “Ronan is missing again.”

Gansey caught himself mid-laugh. “What? But I thought—”

“I don’t think it’s anything serious,” Adam was quick to add. “I mean… you know. Now that we know the truth about that one time. But he left during dinner and Declan and I have checked all the usual places and I….” He sighed. “I would just feel better if I knew where he was.”

Gansey was quiet for a while. “Did he take his car?”

“No.”

More silence. “Did you check the roof?”

Adam felt his heart stop, restart, and stutter again, all in the space of a moment. “The roof?! Gansey, I thought we just established that Ronan wasn’t—”

“Not like that!” Gansey interrupted hastily. “Ronan and I used to go up to the roof to talk. We haven’t been up since… but anyway, it’s worth a shot.”

Adam’s heart did its best to reestablish a natural rhythm. He didn’t think it was particularly successful. “Oh. Okay. Thanks, Gansey.”

“Do you need me to come up? I wasn’t being flippant, you know, when I said I would the other day. If you’re concerned that Ronan might—”

“No!” Adam’s voice was too loud for the near-empty campus. “No, Gansey, you really don’t need to come. You’ve already been helpful enough.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Adam hesitated, squeezed his eyes shut, and opened them again. “I’m sorry for calling you like this. Don’t worry, all right? Ronan is fine. This isn’t like before.”

“Just text me when you find him, okay?”

Gansey’s voice was smooth, measured, and nowhere near immature enough to belong to an eighteen-year-old boy.

Adam tried not to let the guilt crush him like a cartoon anvil when he said, “Of course I will, Gansey. Have a nice night.”

After a moment’s indecision, Adam ducked into Ronan and Gansey’s suite on his way up to the roof. It had gotten cold, and Ronan’s leather jacket offered almost no insulation, so he just wanted to grab a couple hats and maybe a blanket before heading up to the roof.

Of course, Matthew Lynch stopped him in his tracks.

“Did you find Ronan yet?!”

Adam shook his head. “Still looking. Gansey told me about another place I haven’t checked yet.”

“Okay,” Matthew said before handing Adam a brown paper bag.

Adam frowned. “What is this?”

“Well, you both pretty much missed dinner, so I filled up some plastic containers for you,” he said. “They should still be warm. There are forks and knives in there too.”

“I—thank you, Matthew.”

“I had to do something while I waited,” Matthew shrugged. “Now I’m working on this.”

He turned around in his seat and gestured at the kitchen table, on which rested a medium-size square canvas. From the underlying design, Adam recognized it as one of the ones that Ronan had elected to squirt paint over rather than completely mutilate, but it was getting harder and harder to make that distinction. Matthew was methodically covering every inch of the canvas in a gentle, chrysanthemums-at-sunrise yellow.

“You’re repainting one of Ronan’s canvases?” Adam asked in surprise.

Matthew shrugged. “He said he was having trouble with his happiness assignment. I thought this might help.”

Adam looked at the bag of food in his hands, at the serene smile on Matthew’s face, and at the yellow canvas. For the first time, he understood why Ronan had such a soft spot for Noah Czerny.

“Paint fast,” he said. “Ronan will be back soon.”

He draped one of Gansey’s spare blankets over his shoulders and took the stairs as high as he was allowed to go, and then higher. The door to the roof read, Locked: Authorized Access Only, but when he pushed on it, it swung open.

Adam poked his head out. The wind whistled in his one good ear, making it difficult to hear anything.

He squinted into the darkness.

“Ronan?”

@reytrashqueen @nymphhadora @thehufflepuffshuffle @thegreywarenloveshim @siriiusblcck @thefangirldiaries98 @adamprrishcycle @xerxesians @lirapheus @sacrebleusargent @laniemoriarty @actuallyronanlynch @iridescentsparrows @sapphicclary

#pynch #trc #pynch fic #pynch fanfiction #adam parrish #ronan lynch #i wrote this #kotib #kids of the in between #gangsey #otp: the ocean burned #otp: scio quid hoc est

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