#also gallery owner i met the other night messaged me saying it was lovely to meet me

[spittingstar]

cccf

[wocfics]

Fine Art

Kim Taehyung Series 

Arranged Marriage Series

Masterlist

KTH x Poc Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2k+  

When you first saw the email, you thought it was a joke. A simple questionnaire asking about your dating history and such, not really knowing what it was for but you figured there were only a select few people it was sent to, since it was a very long process. Arranged marriage was weird in the states but not in others, as far as you knew. As an artist, a painter and an owner of a gallery, you never thought about marriage in the first place. Art was your love and your life, but sometimes it does get lonely. You dated on and off but there wasn’t much luck, not since your first boyfriend. You were only 18 at the time but he was your everything, you even almost had a family together until you came home early from a trip to Milan and found him in the finished basement of your home with the neighbor’s daughter. 

You lost everything and although you moved into your own place and buried yourself in work, a few years went by and it started to get lonely. You didn’t do one night stands, there was no point in them anyway, you couldn’t see yourself sleeping with random people without any sort of emotional connection. The worst part of it all was the people you considered friends, knew about your boyfriend’s cheating and didn’t want to tell you. Some friends. Living in New York was the best thing and it was even better when you opened up a gallery for display ametuer artwork from across the city. You held painting classes for people who wanted to simply learn, or to discover new skills. 

When your phone pinged, notifying you of another email that said you were eligible as a wife for someone in South Korea, your eyes nearly popped out of your head. SOUTH KOREA?! You had went there once and even has someone asked you to paint a picture of a photo they took during the flower festival there. You didn’t speak Korean fluently, it was hard to learn and work at the same time, especially since your schedule was so hectic that you didn’t even have a day off unless it was an emergency. 

The flight from New York to South Korea was long and the shift in time zones was taking a toll on your body. You met with the lawyer at the building that was going over your marriage, you also explained the language barrier that was going to be difficult and they made sure to include that during the meeting. The meeting was different, you knew you were getting married but to Kim Taehyung of BTS? That was the real eye opener and the email made sense as to why it was so top secret and didn’t reveal much about him. When the lawyer explained why this was happening you were shocked but you had signed a contract, confirming that everything that was spoken of would be confidential and the consequences would result in you pracially losing everything. 

Sitting across from him, you dressed in black overalls, a dark brown turtleneck sweater underneath and your brown coat in the chair next to you. Your hair was currently in long two strand jumbo twists and you wore little to know makeup. It was cold in Korea so you did dress for the weather. Taehyung was dressed in a black sweater and baggy black sweatpants to match. His hair was a messy black color but you didn’t care. You two stared at each other the entire time, almost in a trance, lost in each others eyes. He was more gorgeous in person than on tv. 

He gave you a smirk and a wink and your cheeks were a pale shade of red against your caramel skin complexion. You couldn’t help but give a small smile back as the lawyers spoke amongst each other before turning to you two and finalizing everything. You signed papers as your lawyer spoke to Taehyung and his lawyer about the language barrier and about how you were still learning the language. He looked up after signing these papers and stared at you. “I will teach you Korean.” He nodded. You smiled, biting your lip and nodding.

 _______________________________________________________________ 

It didn’t take long for you to settle into the apartment provided for the both of you. There were two rooms, one bathroom, a big living room and kitchen as well. Your things were by the front door when you walked in, taking in the already furnished area while removing your shoes at the door. Taking off your coat, Taehyung came in behind you and took it from you, hanging it up. “Thank you.” you said in Korean and he smiled and removed his own shoes. You placed your keys and bag on one of the couches and sighed heavily, turning to him and glancing at the boxes. “Um, can you help me?” You asked. He nodded. “Yes, I’ll help.” He grabbed two big boxes and carried them into the main bedroom. You followed behind with one and together, you both began putting away most of your things, keeping a few things in the box to go out for trash. 

Taehyung noticed a few of your paintings and looked at you. “You painted these? These are amazing, we should hang them up.” He spoke so fast that you were trying to translate until you figured out what he was asking. “Yes, I painted. I’m a painter. Thank you.” Your Korean words were rusty but he chuckled at your struggling and carried the box of paintings into the living room and set them aside. He walked back into the room and sat on the bed, patting the seat next to you. This was going to be hard to communicate with him when you barely knew Korean. “Your Korean is good but I will make it better. Um, I will teach you and you teach me English. We can work together, okay?” His English was better than your Korean but you nodded. “Okay. I’ll try. I promise.” 

Over the next couple of hours it took to put everything into place, he taught you a few words that you had to write down as well as phrases as well. You told him about your art studio and gallery back in New York. He typed something into his phone after you told him you didn’t know you had to let go of the gallery and ship all of the paintings here but you knew you’d be getting an art studio in Seoul. You knew how to cook and he was excited for that. Coming from two different backgrounds, he was looking forward to trying new dishes that you cooked back home when you had some time to cook at all. He could see the sleepiness in your eyes and knew you were exhausted from the time zone change but also knew that you were fighting your sleep to get to know more about him aside from BTS.

The more Korean he taught you, the easier it was to talk to him. You learned fast and eventually you two held hands, it happened accidentally when you were trying to put one of the paintings on the wall and he was trying to steady your hand so you wouldn’t drop it since it was pretty large. You stood there after the painting was up, admiring it while he grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together. 

After cleaning up and him letting you take a shower first while he ordered take out, you changed into a silk pajama set and put your twists up in a bun at the top of your head and tied a scarf around the perimeter. You had to explain to him why your wrapped your hair up at night since you had natural hair and he understood, asking to touch your hair first before you gave him permission and he touched over the soft twists that laid on top of your head. 

Once the food got there, you ate in the living room on the floor, leaned against the couches. He told you that he’d take you horseback riding one day if you promised to let him see your studio once it was done being set up. You agreed to that, since riding a horse was something that you always wanted to do. You grabbed the takeout cartons and discarded them while he showered and sat on the couch to wait for him, still fighting your sleep now that it was 6pm. You blinked owlishly while waiting for him to get dressed in the room but your eyes wouldn’t stay open and eventually you fell asleep. 

He walked out, white shirt and boxers and noticed you sleeping. “Cute.” He whispered and softly caressed your cheek. Feeling his touch, you quickly opened your eyes and slowly looked up at him, grinning before slowly standing up and letting him drag you into the bedroom so you could lay down. Like him, you needed something to hug while sleeping so it was hard for you to go to sleep without something there and the pillow wasn’t helping. You grabbed your phone, letting your parents know about traveling and your safety since you messaged you a bunch of times. You sent them the pictures you took earlier of the apartment and they approved of it. 

You didn’t realize how long you were up until your clock on your phone read 9:45 and Taehyung came into the room with his phone in hand. “If I hug you while I’m asleep I apologize. It’s the only way I sleep.” You spoke to him. He smiled at how well your Korean was already and nodded. “Me too.” He replied in English before you both laid down. You stared at each other again, not saying a word, almost like you were studying each other’s features. Without speaking, you moved closer to him and he rested a hand lightly on your waist and pulled you closer until you were right under his chin and keeping your around him. 

Tucking your head under his chin, he buried his nose in your hair and sighed at the floral scent coming from your hair. He was hesitant at first but eventually he leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead. You two were married now after all, so small doses of affection were okay right? Feeling his lips on your forehead made you glance up at him while he looked down at him. His eyes widened, forgetting to ask if you were okay with that. You placed a hand on his cheek and giggled. “Don’t worry, it’s okay.” You whispered. 

You didn’t realize how much you needed this until now, how much you missed being held and the small things that came with it. “Y/N…” He mumbled and you looked at him again, raising your eyebrows. You could feel his heart beating so you could tell he was nervous about whatever it was he wanted to ask you. “Can I kiss you?” He asked quietly, moving his eyes to look at something else besides your eyes. You couldn’t even remember the last time you were kissed properly. None of your dates ever kissed you since you didn’t want it to go that far but with Taehyung, you didn’t even hesitate. Pulling his face down to yours slowly, you pressed your lips against his, instantly melting like butter in his arms when he kissed back and you could feel how soft his lips were. Your lips moved as if you two have been kissing each other for a long time, like you knew how the other one operated. 

His hand that was resting on your waist, tightened, pulling you closer until you let your leg rest on his hip. His tongue slowly licked at your lips for entrance and you parted them, your tongues dancing together inside each others mouths. You couldn’t help the little moan that came out of you, he chuckled against your lips when he heard it. Slowly pulling away, you pecked his lips every now and then before he pressed his forehead against yours. You didn’t realize how fast your heart was beating until it was practically pounding inside of your chest. Opening your eyes, he relaxed his hand on your waist. “Get some sleep.” He kissed your forehead again, pulling you back into your position with your head under his chin before closing his eyes.

All you could think about was that kiss, his dominance and the way he tasted. It was all your dreamed about that night, hugging him in your sleep while he did the same thing. The blankets were a mess the next morning. He woke up before you and stared at your for a moment while you slept before quietly and gently moving out of your arms to go and brush his teeth and put on some coffee. He walked back into the room to see you still asleep and kissed your forehead multiple times. “Y/N, time to wake up.” He rubbed your back until you stirred and rubbed your eyes. Your cheeks and eyes puffy from sleeping so long since it was after 10 am. Sitting up, you stretched and looked around before looking at Tae. 

Standing up, your stretched again before walking into the bathroom to brush your teeth and walked back out, following him into the kitchen where a cup of coffee waiting for you. You put your own cream and sugar in it and took a sip, sighing at the warmth that went down your throat. Tae leaned against the counter, you two just sipping away and enjoying your coffee before he spoke up. “We should discuss schedules.” He picked up his phone from the counter as you did the same and nodded. “Schedules. Yes.” You scrolled around until you got to your calendar. You wondered how they fixed your schedules since they said they would send an email to you two in the morning. You were curious about the other wives as well and wondered if you all would eventually meet. It had been so long since you had friends, you almost forgot that you didn’t have any.

[imaginesbymk]

PINK + WHITE.

—CHAPTER SEVEN ; FINN, ALL GROWN UP.

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta.

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags in this chapter: swearing, smoking

[ chapter index / meet my oc / wattpad link ]

"Just remember, never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line." - The Princess Bride (1987)

"PENARTH ART GALLERY." Tommy cleared his throat before speaking to the operator on the telephone. He pulled a long drag off his cigarette as he waited, even though he knew his call would lead to no avail. He hasn't heard back from her in hours. It wasn't even that difficult of an instruction: reach back to him with her mind made up once she finished her errand in Camden town. Either Teresa forgot, was abducted, killed, or she never kept true to her word when she agreed to phone him. Tommy needed a response so desperately. It had been a while since the vendetta began, and he doubt he would be spared a second to take a deep breath before the Changretta mob comes in to take them out by surprise. He needed an answer now.

No response. He slams the receiver shut, almost nearly breaking the telephone, and sighs. If Tommy had to pick up and reach the operator, the same response of no communication on the other end of the line would come up once more. No point.

Groaning in exhaustion, Tommy rubs his nose bridge as Polly walks in, noticing him leaning back in his chair.

"I told you," she says. "she won't come back."

Tommy grunts. "She will. Just give it a few hours."

"We gave her a day, Tommy. Now we're giving her a few hours?" Polly slams Tommy's diary containing weekly schedules & anything important jotted in black ink, each were separated with a blank box. She flipped to the bookmarked page that highlighted one day of the week, a star coloured in the margins. She jabs a finger on it. "The boxing match. We're losing time."

"Yes, Pol. I'm aware," Tommy says, annoyed. It's not like he wasn't giving Aberama Gold's son a dream of being a boxing champion and possible boxing career in exchange for extra hands to have blood on them in a vendetta. "And what other things I'm aware of that you have to tell me?"

"Are you also aware that Teresa Griffith is no walk in the park—"

"Neither of us are, Polly."

"Are you aware that Teresa Griffith is no walk in the park," Polly repeated her sentence, sternly this time, "and that begging for her help is no use? We've got what we already need, why do you still need her? You miss her?"

"Teresa will reach out to Luca Changretta."

"For what? A fuck while he isn't looking?"

"I've dug deeper, Pol. He's scavenging for things to claim in all of Britain. If he'll start with Alfie Solomon's business, that means he's not shy to come after Teresa's. The Penarth art gallery will be signed under the Changretta name so she will try to withdraw the unjust negotiation, which will give us more time to reach out to Michael's updates before Bonnie and Goliath will face each other in the ring." Tommy slammed his diary, brushing off his wonder on how Polly was able to gain access to it in the first place when it's usually Lizzie who technically is only allowed to touch it.

Polly stared at him with a hint of dread.

"What is it?"

Frustrating as it is, Polly really didn't have the answer to pinpoint. "I read her tea leaves before she walked out on us. It said she'll lose what she loves the most."

"What or who?"

"I couldn't tell. But I imagine it being her new chapter. But now it makes much more sense. She'll lose the gallery, perhaps."

Tommy leans forward to look up closer to Aunt Polly. "So like I said, give it a few hours. I know she will come back. I doubt she keeps a handgun in her glove compartment anymore. I'll ensure her safety and keep the gallery up under her name. She needs us just as much as we need her."

Polly let out a small sigh, collecting the heavy-weighted diary to carry out with her through the same way she came in. Let's hope...

Returning to Penarth was a relief. Teresa was far away from the next person who could get on her last nerve, unless one of the tour guides or management decides to point out a small circumstance to the owner, but the Welsh woman found comfort and bliss when she looks up at a painting made by an iconic artist that speaks through their canvas.

"We should really put up more exit signs, Miss," one of the tour guides said to Teresa as they walked down the halls together. "some of the guests have been getting lost with the new corridors. And they were wondering about the empty room upstairs?"

"I've spoken to people from Nice. They loved what we did with the exhibition and they want to place up more paintings, so I saved some extra room."

"On... the second floor?"

"Why not?" Teresa shrugs. "We've set up enough for the main floor, second floor should be okay as well." And she walked down the opposite direction, hoping the tour guide wasn't gonna follow her and object the display plans.

"Miss Griffith," an exhausted employee rushes over to her, clearly out of breath from searching around the entire building for one woman. "Your office is being blown up with phone calls from Birmingham."

Teresa frowns. Did Mr. Shelby not take the hint already?

"Shall I leave a message?"

"Just ignore it. Probably someone looking to pest. We've no time for that," Teresa let out a sigh, continuing down the way she meant to go through, passing a couple of guests who read each art piece like a picture book. She had to frown again. The least she could do was answer one phone call from the man, say the word and he'd leave her be. Ignoring him would push him towards her even more.

Teresa rested her walking by standing in front of the painting. The painting, to emphasize—the one Luca pointed out to her when they first met. She hadn't looked at it in so long. Every time she passed that wall, she just had to avoid making eye contact. How ridiculous it is to look away from art, which is the opposite of the common reaction. But it was a painting only Teresa felt like a curse. Teresa doubted Luca even cared about what the painting was, since his excuse to reel her attention was to poke fun about what she loved. If only she could gain that much luck of approval to remove the piece off of that wall with her bare hands. Disrespectful and unprofessional, yes. But if she had the chance to, she would do it.

Now his voice spoke just as loud as the form of the oil painting. You were just another woman.

Teresa shook her head. It was indeed an awkward encounter, and if she had to describe it; maybe it was a heartbreak about another.

It doesn't matter anymore. Luca is here on business, to kill the man whose phone calls you're ignoring, but that is okay. You're not a Peaky Blinder. It's time to turn around and move on...

She did turn around actually, just to be greeted with another familiar face.

"Finn?"

SHE had to chuckle in disbelief. Seeing Finn holding a cigarette in his hand so casually just proves that he was no stranger to the addicting habit. He was the youngest of the family and Teresa used to chase him around the streets in a game of tag. He was much shorter than she was, voice higher, and after watching them, he mimicked the little things his older brothers did, even though it was dangerous for a young boy like him to fully understand.

"Do they know that you're here?" Teresa took a puff out of hers.

"Arthur sent me," Finn replied.

Teresa rolls her eyes. "Right," she mutters under her breath. She kicked a few rocks on the large paved steps that laid out as the entrance of her gallery. "Don't tell me. You're here to scold me for ignoring Tommy. It's not like I don't get migraines from my telephone ringing so fucking much."

"Why are you avoiding him, Teresa? Even when you were at the Garrison, agreeing to let Tommy fill you in on what needs to be done. He would of thought you got shot, otherwise."

"I went to Camden and then came back here."

"Without giving him a final decision?"

"He should get the hint by now. Is that bastard so desperate for a decoy? I doubt the Italians would fall for another trap." That was another thing she was informed about. Polly and Tommy's plan was a semi-success, however Luca Changretta is still alive, and his blood must be boiling because of how much time he had wasted sparing Michael's life when he had the chance to shoot him in cold blood.

"Luca Changretta will come after Alfie Solomons' business, as he will yours," Finn says. "He will come here and make you hand it over to his family or he will kill you. Whether he does that before or after killing us all, it will happen sooner or later."

Typical Luca. If he really thought she was just another woman, he would definitely threaten her over her business. "Did Tommy tell you to say all of that?" she chuckled.

Finn shrugs. "Maybe. But it's good that you know now. So, that gives you a valid reason to help?"

Teresa grinned. "The last time I saw you, you wore tiny suspenders, even your shoes were tiny. I could of lifted you like a doll from a toy store. Look at yourself, Finn."

"I can't, that's physically impossible."

"Finn, all grown up!" Teresa teases, using her hand to pinch together his rosy cheeks.

Finn groans in annoyance, rubbing his cheek to sooth the stinging pain after shoving her hand off him. "Fuck's sake, Teresa! We need you! You were big help when you were last with us, and you can still be the big help. Seriously, you're all our last bet."

"Tell Tommy I need more time to think about it."

"Teresa, there isn't any more time. We're out of it. We need a solid answer now."

"You guys did fine without me. Am I still being used a distraction? What if Tommy wants me as a mole?"

"He won't. That's not something we do often, most of the time it doesn't end up working out."

"Finn..." Teresa shook her head, taking him seriously this time. "I can't help kill Luca Changretta. I thought about it but I promised to never get involved with the Peaky Blinders, or anything that would paint me as a criminal. If things didn't happen the way it did, I would of said yes without a second thought."

Finn furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"

She let out a soft sigh, hoping the pain would burn out like the end of her cigarette. "Because I knew Luca. He and I were once lovers."

+ basically,,,,, teresa wants to help but at the same time she doesn't want to help lmfaoo.

[themarissaharrison]

Never Alone | Discord

                                                     DISCORD THREAD #006

Who?: Marissa Harrison, Nicola Sloane @nicolaeisms When?: Sunday August 9th 2020 - Immediately after the ‘Always You’ Self Paragraph Where?: Delilah’s Apartment - Manhattan

Mentions: @cmlopezofficial | Cordelia Lopez (NPC) | Delilah Daniels (NPC) Triggers: death mentions, suicidal thoughts, suicide mentions

PLOT DEVELOPMENT?: YES. Marissa talks about the video from the SP, they discuss some other key parts of how they are feeling. 

Nicola

i need you. nicola already knew that it was serious. it's been hours already since marissa left, and she should've been home by now. they were just getting things ready for their trip in pennsylvania where the vineyard was located, it has been a sitting offer for the bar owner for the past year ever since she started her research on distilleries, now realizing how this one would be better. this is also the first property she is going to share with her family. ever since that night at the parking lot, she had been trying to bury those thoughts in her head and instead focused on taking care of cleo and marissa. she was already dressed up for the day when she received the message from the gallery owner. she quickly said goodbye to cleo, telling her that she'll explain things later. her chauffeur wasn't there yet. she didn't have any choice but head to the garage and hopped in her lexus. she hasn't driven in a while ever since she returned to kingsboro, though she could remember it very well, still. she quickly drove to the location the younger brunette has sent her, followed by the security detail that was assigned to her. the fucking traffic isn't agreeing to her, which made the woman frustrated, she wanted to be there already, like she promised her. finally after making shortcuts around the city, she was finally there. this is some place nicola hasn't been to before, and she was greeted by a mess, everything around the place was a mess. she began looking for her. "riss?" she called out, slipping her hand inside her hoodie's pocket.

Marissa

She dropped her phone on the floor in front of her once she had finishing texting Nicola. She could barely breath, every time she gasped for breath she just cried harder. She felt so desperate, so alone, so frustrated that she was still here. It was selfish, and she knew that and it just made her feel worse. She hadn't wanted this to happen today, she had purposefully not touched a drop of alcohol since Friday night because she was trying avoid this breakdown. But, seeing what she just saw on the cameras, everything started flooding back in, all the pain that she had felt back then and obviously buried so deeply that she'd forgotten it all until now. By the time Nicola arrived, she hadn't calmed down much, her body was still shaking, she was still crying, still tucked into the corner of the room like she was hiding from a monster. She heard Nic call out, and she took as big a breath as she could. "I'm in here..." She called back, knowing Nic was the type of person who could easily just follow the sound of her broken voice.

Nicola

the moment she's heard marissa's voice, she rushed to the room where she heard it from, immediately falling down to her knee when she's seen her. she looked around the room, realizing that was somehow like a study, with a computer which looked like it just finished playing something, something that made marissa into this right now. she carefully draws the woman close to her arm while she takes her place on the floor, sitting down. she immediately rubs the woman's back in attempts to comfort her, kissing the side of her head. "i'm here, baby. i'm here...." she whispers, taking her hand with her own to hold, intertwining their fingers. she then lets it go and slips it under hear hoodie, knowing that it was one of those things that comforts her. nicola whispers "you have me, my love. you have us.....you're not alone. not anymore."

Marissa

Looking up as the door opened again, she saw Nicola and instantly she just burst into tears again. But, these weren't the same as before, they weren't tears of pain or anger or sorrow... She was just relieved... Relieved that she had asked, that she had needed someone and they came, that Nic came... That she wasn't alone. Riss grabbed hold of her the moment she dropped down beside her, the feeling of Nic's hand rubbing on her back bringing a level of comfort she had no idea was possible. I'm here. Two words she longed to hear, now given freely... How did she deserve anything of this? How did she deserve her? Cleo? When Nicola took her hand and slid it up her hoodie, and she could feel her skin on hers, she could feel her warmth... "I'm sorry..." She cried quietly as she pushed into the older woman. "I didn't-- didn't mean-- for this to happen..."

Nicola

nicola was aware of what day it is today, and she understood the pain behind it. it somehow reminded her of the day lauren died, it was supposed to be her last day as part of the force and finally leaving to spend the rest of their lives together, starting a business and just settling down at kingsboro. she takes a deep breath, she was about to space out once again. she had to remind herself that she should be focused on marissa right now. she shakes her head at her apologizing. "ma chère, no...no. there's nothing to be sorry about, okay?" she whispers, kissing the top of her head as she held her in her arms. "you're not alone....not anymore. i've got you, my love....i promise with my life."

Marissa

Riss knew that Nicola understood what she was going through. She understood what it was like to lose a loved one, even though there were such stark differences in how Delilah and Lauren passed away. Marissa was almost... Jealous of how Lauren died, of how Nicola was able to hold onto revenge, able to somehow get some closure, even if Jackson was still alive and it wasn't quite complete yet. With Delilah... She wasn't able to blame anyone. She wasn't able to get revenge, wasn't able to focus on anything other than the fact that she hadn't been enough to stop her from dying. All she was left with was a never ending list of questions. "I-- I just wanted... I just want t-to know why... I wasn't-- I'm not enough," she cried. "Why..."

Nicola

"hey...hey....baby..."nicola cups marissa's face to look at her in the eyes. "you are enough, more than enough. you're worth more than any amount of money or any expensive thing in the world." she plants loving kisses all over her face. "delilah....lauren.....hayden....they've brought us all together for a reason, to look after each other. they've made our paths cross together once more because they know we needed each other. they've brought cleo and cordelia in our lives.....because together, we're....we're stronger. even in the most painful times in our lives. delilah she.....she made sure that you're not alone, like lauren did. i just know.....that they're still looking over us."

Marissa

Marissa looked into Nicola's eyes as the other cupped her face and tried to reassure her of her doubts. She didn't feel like enough, not back then, not now. All she wanted was to be able to love Delilah... She didn't feel like that was too much to ask. Everything went wrong. Everything. She just-- she was just waiting for this to go wrong too. Marissa tried to believe what Nicola was saying, she tried to push that self doubt down. She tried to stop fucking crying. "I don't feel stronger," Marissa gasped a little air. "I don't feel like she's still here... She feels lost-- I-- I feel so lost... Nic..." She closed her eyes tightly, her head collapsing into Nicola's hands. "I don't even know who I am anymore..."

Nicola

"i know.....i know, baby....." nicola herself doesn't feel that much stronger as of late, she has been hurting and trying to shake off that night in her head. now isn't the time. she keeps on telling herself. all she needed to do right now is to be here for marissa and cleo, her girlfriends, just as she promised them. "we have those moments, my love.....where we--we feel lost, we don't feel the stronger version of ourselves. when we don't even feel like ourselves at all. but....don't ever forget that you have me and cleo now...you're not alone in this anymore....that you have me, cleo and cordelia. we go through this and we heal together. you are marissa harrison, and you may not believe it, but you are one of the strongest people i have ever met. you've been through so much, my love. but you're still here, and you've just gotten stronger."

Marissa

Marissa curled up into her arms, her hand gripping onto Nic's side and her other one holding onto the fabric at the bottom of her shirt. She listened, or at least, she tried to listen... She could only really pick out little things of what she was saying, her own head running at a thousand miles and hour, the sounds of her own yelling from the recording playing over and over again. You are Marissa Harrison. That name used to carry a lot more weight than it did now. "I-- I don't... think I am..." She said quietly. "I couldn't-- I didn't even remember doing this... Last year-- I-- I don't remember coming here... I'm scared..."

Nicola

she knew that look on marissa's face, she knew her mind was somewhere else, even though she was trying her hardest to be where she is right now. it broke nicola's heart to finer pieces, seeing her like this. "it's okay to be scared sometimes, my love.....but you're not alone anymore.....whatever you need right now, cleo and i are here to support you." she kisses her forehead, letting her lips linger there for a while. it all makes sense now, the mess of a place she's arrived to, the video that looks like what the gallery owner was talking about. "i've got you, baby....you have me and cleo.....whatever you need...."

Marissa

You're not alone. Nicola kept saying that, and every time she said it, Riss could hear it a little more. This was the first year where that was really true... Before, sure, she had had Laurel around, Megan-- Aaron... But, this was different. Nic understood. Cleo's embrace actually helped. But, right now, after watching that, after being so starkly reminded of how sick she had become... There's just this one thing that keeps running riot in her brain. "It should have been me... It-- it would have been so much easier if it... if it was me..." If she had gone first, would Delilah have imploded like she did? If she had gone first, would Delilah finally feel free in life? Would she have stayed alive? For her sister? Marissa didn't have any family, at least not back then... None that would have missed her. If she had gone first... It's all she can think about.

Nicola

"marissa.....no....no....sshhh...." she shuts her eyes for a moment, taking a couple of deep breaths, not letting the thought of the younger woman dying stay in mind. nicola could already feel a part of her die just by the thought of it. she shouldn't think about it now, she's got to be here for the other, make sure she knows that she's not alone with this anymore, that she's got her family with her in every step of the way. "marissa....delilah.....delilah, lauren and hayden brought us together for a reason. you know i used to not believe in it, but this isn't just some coincidence. i believe this isn't just something that randomly happened. they....they knew that we need each other, you, me and cleo. we're all still here for a reason." she knew it's not just the other that she was convincing, but also herself. "they would've hated it if we both threw our lives away. we still have....we still have so much to do. and we...we have cleo and cordelia now. i know those three up there did this. we have to....we have to continue living....not just for them, but also for our family. we're not alone anymore, my love."

Marissa

"I'm-- sorry--" She breathed out through the tears. Marissa couldn't say anything else, she couldn't find any other words, she didn't want to hurt Nicola by saying the things that went around her head out loud. About how she was scared of herself, how she hated herself, hated what she had become. How she had no idea how either of them could possibly love her, especially now-- after seeing the destruction that laid in her wake. How she still, in the late hours of most nights, thought about following Delilah down that rabbit hole. Instead, she just clung to Nicola, she tried to believe what she was saying, tried to make it replay in her mind to drown everything else out. She withdrew into herself, becoming quiet, just holding onto Nicola.

Nicola

"you have nothing to be sorry about, my love. i'm here....you can tell me and cleo anything....you have us now." nicola didn't care if she sounded like a broken record, but if she had to do this, to remind marissa that she isn't alone anymore, that she's got her and cleo until the end of the universe's existence, she will. she would do anything for them, for the people who saved her from such misery, who brought life back in her life when it was unwillingly taken away from her. she reaches for her hand the was underneath her hoodie and slides it up even further just beneath where her heart is placed. there's still a lot of work to do between the three of them, to live past the pain, but she's willing to risk it all for her family. "i got you....my love....you're not alone anymore.....i won't--i'm not going anywhere...." she whispers, burrowing her face into her hair and taking in her scent.

Marissa

Marissa went quiet for a long while, just staying in Nicola's arms, focusing on feeling her heartbeat. Listening to her breathing, feeling her heart beating, eventually... She calmed down, she stopped crying. A wave of numbness came over her, just for a short time and then she just felt... Tired... Empty. Her sigh broke the silence that had drawn in on them, she swallowed thickly and sniffed up a little. "Can we go home?" She barely whispered.

Nicola

the older woman lingers in the quiet for some time while she continue to hold the other, just playing with her hair. nicola knows they need a long time to rest, because there's going to be a lot to work on between the three of them while they stay at the vineyard. they're all exhausted, and they need to be away from the city for a while. she snapped out of her thoughts when marissa spoke. "of course, my love. let's go home."

[thatscalledtoughlove]

Didn’t Want to Fall in Love - 3: Mr. Handsome Makes a Reappearance

“For the millionth time, I am fine!” Tony shot me a glare from the bar-stool he sat on, swatting my arms away when I tried to hug him. “If you tell anyone about what happened, I’ll kill you.”

         I sighed, setting a plate of French toast down in front of him. He stabbed it with his fork. I sighed again.

         “Look, if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you. You’re my platonic life-partner, remember?”

        His lips twitched, and I could tell he was trying his best not to smile. “Have you ever considered the two of us? Together? As in, an actual couple? Not that being your platonic life-partner isn’t amazing.”

         “Us? A couple? That would mean sharing a bed with you, and you hog the sheets. It would also require us to kiss and stuff. Ew.” He shoved me, and I laughed. “In all seriousness though, nah. I don’t even know why we kissed all those years ago.”

         “I’ve just been terrified at the thought of what happened to my uncle ever since I heard about the accident.” Tony’s playful grin faded away and he glanced at me. Some of his hair fell into his eyes and I pushed it back. “It’s crazy to think about how much one accident can change someone’s life. And now he’s got a granddaughter and he can’t even really play with her because of his condition and—I don’t know, it just weighs down on me.”

         I stood from my seat, pausing beside him, resting a hand on his bicep. “I’m sure good ole Uncle Will doesn’t want you to mourn over him all the time. Why don’t you give your cousin a call and see how things are going? I’m sure he’d like to have a conversation with you.”

         Tony shook his head, still poking at the food I’d made him instead of eating it. “I haven’t spoken to Mike since Ella was born almost three years ago. And with another one on the way, I’m sure he doesn’t have time to sit around and talk.”

         “Well, while you sit around and contemplate life, I’m off to school. Don’t skip your Asia Pacific Political Systems course again, do you hear me? You better not be here when I get back, Mr. International Business Major.”

        I patted him on the back, smiling at the annoyed look he shot my way. He shoved a piece of French toast in his mouth, speaking to me with his mouth still full. “Whatever you say, Mom. I could give you a ride if you want.”

        Unlike most people, I preferred to take public transportation. It gave me an opportunity to sit and think about life, daydream, or catch up on reading whenever I could. “It’s fine, I can take the bus. Text me when you’re leaving, okay? We can meet up after class and go to that café where the girl always is.”

         The bus was already packed full when I stepped on, forcing me to stand near the front for the entire half hour trip. I thanked the driver when I hit my stop, gripping the straps of my backpack as I walked from the bus stop to the entrance of my college. After my only class of the day, the sociology club had a meeting. It would be the first one I attended in months.

        My class focused on criminology. I found myself distracted during the lecture, aimlessly scrolling through social media news feeds. A local BookTuber I’d followed years ago popped up. He was now published, while also still having quite a bit of influence on YouTube. I’d even met him once in passing and hated to admit I’d fangirled a bit inside. Funny enough, he was also the best friend of Tony’s cousin’s wife. It really was a small world.

         An elbow nudged me in the ribs and I frowned, looking up from my phone to the front of the classroom, where Professor Jameson had her eyes trained on me. Without a word, she went back to teaching the lecture. Words weren’t necessary. I felt embarrassed enough from the look. The girl who sat beside me gave an apologetic smile for the earlier jab.

         As soon as Professor Jameson dismissed us, I ran from the room to the college cafeteria, where the sociology club meeting would take place. I almost had a heart attack when I saw the one person who sat at the meeting table. He’d never attended any meetings before.

         Mr. Handsome—Justin—shifted in his seat when our eyes met. I approached with caution, cursing myself for being over-dramatic at the banquet a few nights earlier. No doubt he would call me out on my behavior.

         “Hello, Isabelle. It’s nice to see you again.” He spoke with formality, iciness lacing his voice.

         I forced a smile. “Hi, Justin. How’ve you been?”

         “All right. What happened to you at the banquet?”

         Great. Straight to the point. I both admired and despised him for it.

         “Um, something came up. I had to run home. Quite literally.” Surprisingly, he smiled at this.

        Justin had a wonderful smile. Far more wonderful than Paul, who I still despised for making fun of my father’s decision to take my mother’s surname. He had messaged me on Tinder later that night, but I didn’t bother to answer. I deleted the app without hesitation.

          “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have asked you to leave the party with me. But I have to let you know that I wasn’t planning on making any moves. Honestly, it would be nice to have a friend instead of a relationship. I’m more focused on school right now.”

         Could it be? Had I ruined a potential friendship by running away?

        I finally took a seat beside him, the smile I gave genuine. And nervous. During my three years at college, I’d encountered plenty of people, though none of them ended up as permanent friends. Just classroom friendships. The same went for Tony, but he still kept in touch with our high school friends as well.

         “Would it be too late to consider being friends? I’m sorry I ran away from you.” Heat rushed to my face when he grinned, a light chuckle falling from his lips. I continued. “Honestly, the idea of love kind of puts me off. But I would love to be friends with you! The woman I saw in the bathroom said you were a perfect gentleman.”

         He grimaced. “That was actually my aunt. Well, we aren’t related by blood, but she’s been my mother’s best friend since childhood. Can I ask why you’re put off by the idea of love? You don’t have to answer, of course.”

        “No, no, it’s fine! I had this massive crush on a guy in high school, around my sophomore year, actually, and he turned out to be a total tool. Not only did he reject me hardcore when I gathered up the courage to admit that I loved him, but he also bullied my best friend all throughout high school. It only got worse when he found out we’d had a moment at a school dance.”

         Justin looked genuinely interested. “Seriously? Hmm. And what exactly does a moment mean? Is this best friend a guy?”

         “You would be correct, he’s a guy. Tony. And by moment, I mean we kind of kissed in front of a bunch of people. Well, no, not really. It was in a corner of the room. No one—Why are you looking at me like that?” I realized a second later that I’d divulged way too much information to him.

         Judging from the red in his cheeks, I guessed he wanted to laugh. “You aren’t the type of person who thrives on small talk, are you?”

         “Sorry, I’ve always preferred long conversations. Asking someone about the weather has never really excited me.”

        “I think that’s great. Hey, since we’ve decided to become friends, do you think you can tell me what your dream job is now?”

          I’d almost forgotten about that conversation. “Painter,” I said. “An art gallery owner if I can’t sell my own paintings. What about you?”

        He laughed. “I knew you weren’t paying attention on Saturday! My deepest secret is actually that I play violin. I wanted to be a famous violinist when I was younger. Clearly that never happened. I was by no means a child prodigy.”

         “You should let me hear your music sometime. I’m sure you’re great.” Considering I couldn’t even sing, let alone play a musical instrument, anyone would probably sound beautiful to my untrained ears. Still, the image of Mr. Handsome also being extremely gifted at music somehow fit.

         A deep blush stained his entire face, and Justin glanced around the room before leaning in closer. The rest of the sociology club would be here any minute now. “I have some recordings on my phone if you’d like to hear them. Promise you’ll keep this a secret between us?”

         I looked at him with wide eyes, nodding enthusiastically. The violin had always been one of my favorite instruments, right after the harp. He blushed even more, a grin spreading across his face as he pulled a pair of old-school headphones from his bag and plugged them into his phone. The sounds of the other people in the cafeteria faded away, replaced by a violin version of “Amazing Grace.”

         As the song drew to a close, I almost had to wipe away a few tears. Justin rolled his eyes when he saw that, but I could tell it meant a lot to him that I’d enjoyed listening.

         “What do ya think?” he asked, winding the headphones cord around his left hand. “Was it okay?”

         “Okay? That was amazing! No pun intended.” He chuckled, avoiding meeting my eyes. I leaned back in my chair. “Seriously, have you considered uploading yourself to YouTube? That’s the best way to get famous nowadays. The beauty of social media.”

         A few people I recognized from other meetings took a seat at the table, greeting us with toothy grins. I smiled back before turning my attention back to Justin. He seemed like a different person, shy and reserved instead of the confident and relaxed man he’d appeared to be at the banquet.

         “No, I’ve never thought of that. I’m not exactly the kind of guy people want to stare at on a screen for any amount of time.” He whispered this, eyeing the two girls who sat across from us.

         The idea that someone I’d called Mr. Handsome would think himself unattractive was ridiculous. “Trust me, a lot of girls would love to stare at you on a screen.”

        Before he could say anything else, the president of our club appeared. She spent the next forty-five minutes discussing volunteer opportunities with the members, urging anyone who had free time to dedicate it to helping out the community. We did all want to dedicate the next few decades of our lives to the people, after all. After the meeting ended, I jumped out of my seat and threw on my backpack. I had to run home and drop off my stuff before meeting Tony at the café.

          “Isabelle, wait!” Justin jogged to catch up to me, his honey-blond hair bouncing with every step he took. He was already gasping for air when he reached me. Kind of sad, considering we’d only crossed the one building, but I kept that thought to myself. “Would it be okay if we exchanged numbers? Sorry if I’m being a little straightforward, I just don’t know how else we’d keep in touch.”

         It always surprised me when someone asked for my number. “Yeah, sure. We should hang out some time. I actually think I really like you, Justin.”

        He smiled again. God, that smile must get him any girl he wanted. “Why thank you, Isabelle. I like you too. Enough to even forgive you for climbing out of a bathroom window to avoid me. I’m kidding,” he added when heat rushed to my face.

         “I promise I won’t run away like that again. You aren’t so bad, Mr. Handsome.”

        “Mr. Handsome?” But I’d already walked away. He called out to me and I laughed, turning around to face him but continuing to increase the distance between us. “What’s that supposed to mean, Isabelle?”

         A few people stared at us. “You’ll find out someday! And just call me Izzy!”

         “Until next time, Izzy!”

        I waved goodbye, the grin plastered on my face almost painful. After three years, I had finally made a friend. The happiness remained the rest of the day, growing when I met Tony outside of the main building. He gave a surprised laugh when I launched myself into his arms, wrapping my arms so tight around his neck he told me to stop before he suffocated.

         “Why are you so happy? Did you sneak off to the bar instead of going to class? If I have to go, then so do you, Iz.”

         “Oh, shut up! I made a new friend! Isn’t that great? And you’ll never guess who it is either.”

         Tony had to pry me off him, holding me at an arms distance with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”

        “The guy I ran away from at the banquet. I know, I know!” I frowned at the incredulous look he shot me. “Turns out he just wanted a friend, too. Ooh, and he’s also a violinist! I’m going to try to convince him to post a video to YouTube.”

         “Sounds like you had a rather eventful afternoon.” We started to walk down the sidewalk toward the parking lot, the horrible yellow Taurus standing out amongst the neutral shades of the surrounding vehicles.

         I shrugged, scratching my left arm. “Not really, just that one thing. How about you? Are you feeling better now?”

        He grunted as a response, sliding into the driver’s seat. I pursed my lips, wondering why the problem was now, but ignored it and climbed into the passenger seat.

         “Actually, no, I’m not feeling better,” Tony said as he started the car. “I hate what I’m studying with a passion. If I felt even a fraction of love for business instead of the passionate hate I feel for it, I would be unstoppable. But no, I would rather work at Starbucks than pursue business.”

          “Hey, don’t hate on the poor baristas! That job offers tons of benefits, you know.” He realized why I’d taken insult and looked over at me, a nervous grin pasted on his face. I’d been a barista for three years, only quitting my job a little more than a year and a half ago in favor of a summer receptionist job at my father’s own business.

        We were at the same spot Tony had almost hit Zack the Waiter when he spoke again. “So, what does this girl you mentioned look like? Is she there every single time?”

         “She has light brown hair, and yes, she is. She also checks you out every single time.” It wasn’t a lie, I’d seen her staring at his back whenever he ordered or glancing at his face whenever he walked by. A person would have to be blind not to see she had a massive crush.

         “Okay, time to keep up my end of the bargain.” Tony looked like he would rather retreat back to the apartment and check out his matches on the apps, but he still walked into the café without heading straight to the counter like usual.

        The girl sat in the corner of the room with a laptop on the table in front of her. She looked up when Tony and I entered, and their eyes locked for five whole seconds. I counted. Of course, she looked away first, the furious blush on her face making Justin’s look like a slight flush.

         Because Tony was…well, himself, he didn’t approach her. He decided to go and order his usual chilled hot chocolate instead, glancing at the girl while he waited for his drink. I tried not to snort. I ordered the same drink as Tony, smiling when he chose to take a seat close to this dreamer.

         We sat and talked for a bit before deciding it was time to head home. I met Tony’s eyes, silently yelling at him to talk to the girl, who also watched him. He shook his head, the movement so slight I just caught it. Sighing, I stood from my chair and headed to the exit.

         The unnamed girl watched us go, a flicker of disappointment shining in her eyes. She noticed me watching and her lips curved up in a subtle smile. I returned the smile, cursing Tony for deciding now was the time he would bail out on our deal.

         At least she seemed to forget about us a few seconds later, looking back at her computer and beginning to type away.

        “Are you serious?” I resisted the urge to smack him in the head when we got to the car. “Did you not see that? She was waiting for you to talk to her!”

         “She probably thinks we’re together, Izzy! Besides, why does the guy always have to make the first move? That’s bullshit.” He started the car, which sounded like it wouldn’t last much longer.

         I took a deep breath and released it in a long sigh. He did have a point, as much as I hated to admit it. Girls shouldn’t be afraid to strike up a conversation.

          “Let’s just go home and watch a movie or something. I’ll make dinner this time.” I didn’t want to make him feel worse than he already did. “What would you like to eat? Spaghetti? Tacos? A microwave dinner because that’s probably the best chance you have at getting a full meal?”

         His mood lifted, and he looked at me with a new grin. “Let’s go for tacos. No offense but your spaghetti sucks.”

         “Saying ‘no offense’ does not make it less offensive.”

        Tony shrugged, and we spent the rest of the ride home listening to violin covers of popular music. I set to work on dinner when we arrived at home while Tony walked around with his camera and took pictures of random areas of the apartment. He stopped a few feet away from me and told me to smile. I stuck my tongue out instead.

         “Are we going to watch another horror? I’m thinking Evil Dead. Not the original, but the remake. The one that actually attempts to be scary. Not that I don’t love the original.” He took his usual spot at the kitchen island, flipped through the pictures on his digital camera.

        “Yeah, sure.” I looked down at my phone on the counter beside the stove when a text came in. It was from Justin, asking if I planned on volunteering for any events for the sociology club.

         Tony raised an eyebrow when I turned back to him. “What’s that look for?”

         “Oh, nothing. I’m just happy that I made a new friend.”

         “Mhhm. Are you sure this isn’t going to develop into something more? You did tell me you called him Mr. Handsome.”

         “Positive.” He didn’t look like he believed me, but he left it alone.

        Tony could think whatever he wanted, I had no intention of developing any romantic feelings for Justin. He would be a new friend, and that was it. I texted back that I was considering it. Justin answered minutes later. For the first time in weeks, I feel asleep looking forward to going to school the next day.

         The only concern I had on my mind was Tony and the girl who had a crush at him from the café. But that could wait for another day. First thing was first: I had to delete all the dating apps from my phone without telling Tony. Then, I would do everything I could to get my best friend the relationship he deserved.

[mitchmorison]

The Invite - Audrey&Mitch

(Mini para before Katrina Addams B-day party)

Mitch: Mitch hated to admit it but…he missed Audrey. Normally, if and when he had slept with a woman more then once, the thoughts of her went away after their last night together. However, getting Audrey out of his mind was proving to be a bit more difficult then he thought. Maybe it was because he enjoyed having to find out what Audrey was thinking or because he wanted that constant challenge of figuring someone out. It honestly didn’t matter; Mitch was going to see her again. His birthday was coming up but so was an art gallery owner named Katrina’s. Hence, why he was throwing the party for her instead of for himself on the same day. Holding the invitation in his hand, Mitch looked around at the beauty salon that Audrey owned and smiled in approval seeing how luxurious it was and fit Audrey personality to the core-or at least what he knew of her anyway. A worker came up and asked Mitch if there was anything she could do for him but once Mitch asked if Audrey was available, he was quickly sadden when the woman replied that it was her day off. “Can I have her address perhaps? Just to mail her this invitation? I’m not a stalker, we’ve met a couple times…I’m Mitch Morison.” He said, holding out his hand for a handshake hoping that given his name, the woman would be more willing to give him her address. Thankfully, it did have that effect. The lady giggled and smirked while shaking his hand. “Oh Morison! Of course, just don’t tell anyone that I gave you her address got it? And if something were to happen to her, don’t doubt for a second that I will go to the police if I don’t hear back from her.” The woman warned with a stern voice that caused Mitch to chuckle nervously and nodded. “You have my word that no harm will come to do love. Promise….” He said and left the building with Audrey’s address in hand. Her employees were indeed loyal.Once he arrived to her place, Mitch got out of the car and looked at her large house and smirked as he walked up the steps and debated about leaving the invitation or knocking. Taking a shaky breath, he looked down at the invitation and knocked three times. Then Mitch shook his head and assumed Audrey was probably out and enjoying her day off. I’ll just leave this in the mailbox, he thought and turned to leave instead.

Audrey: Even though Audrey loved working at the salon, twice a month she lieked to take the day off and relax at home, take care of herself, of her hair and skin, catch up on her favorite shows or sometimes go out for a run. Not once, did she feel guilty for leaving her baby unsupervised, partly because she had a good staff that knew what to do in her absence and partly because she felt she deserved the ay off. Today, she had started having breakfast out in a bearby café, then when she came back she did some cleaning arpund the loft. By lunch time, Audrey had applied a hair mask while eating on the couch and watching tv and finally, put on a face mask while she finished a book. She was about to go out for a walk in the park when there was a knock on the door; she had not been expecting anyone, mostly because she was working at this time, so her first assumption was that one of her staff memebers had stopped by for something. Walking to the door and watching through the peephole though, Audrey was surprised when she saw Mitch Morison on the other side; she had not seen him since the night at the strip club and wasn't really expecting to see him again. Looking down at her shorts, t-shirt and bare feet, shes hrugged and opened the door just to see Mitch walking away and knocked on her door to call his attention. When the man turned, she waved a hand at him.

Mitch: Hearing the knock, Mitch turned in surprise. “Audrey….y-you’re home?” He asked, though the question was indeed a stupid one to ask. “I mean hello there love.” Mitch chuckled a little with a smirk and let his eyes travel up and down her body. It was a different side yet again to see her just in a casual t-shirt and shorts-a nice sight of course since those shorts were quite short. “Enjoying your day off I see? I stopped by your grand salon and an employee gave me your address. Which reminds me, please do inform them that you’re okay or alive. She was very insistent on waiting to hear back from you after today.” He chuckled a little with a smirk. “Though I’m sure if I had told her all the fun we’ve been having, she wouldn’t have questioned my intentions with delivering this invitation for a birthday party that I am throwing an art gallery owner.” With that, he handed over the invitation to her.

Audrey: She arched her brows ironically at his question since the answer was quite obvious and while Audey didn't know Mitch Morison that well, that had not been a question she would have linked to him, however, he recovered quickly and he went back to his flirty tone she had heard before. Leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her stomach, Audrey cocked her head as she listen to him and his explanation of how he got her address, she smiled and shook her head, taking note of actually texting one of her employees to let them know she was fine; then rolled her eyes as he mentioned the activities they've been doing together and how almost well they physically knew each other. Glancing at the invitation, Audrey took it from his hand and wondered what to do next; should she say thank yo and close the door or ask him in? Certainly, they were not what she would call friends and she didn't really hang out with the men she fucked wih but surprisingly, she wanted to see him for a couple more minutes. Waving her hand to the inside of the apartment, Audrey moved and let him in, closing the door with her foot as she began opening the envelope. The invitation was fancy and while she wouldn't say no to a fancy party she did have one question. Holding a finger up, she mvoed the the table in the living room and picked up her phone, quickly typing on it. "Thank you for the invitation but why are you inviting me?" As the text reproduced itself, she typed a text to one of her employees saying everything was fine and that she wasn't mad at the person who gave Mitch her address. *instrumenal jazz in background* *Audrey’s Home - image1 - image2 - image3 *

Mitch: Once Audrey had taken the invitation Mitch wasn’t quite sure what to do next but kept his smirk on his face and watched her face as she also seemed to wonder what she should do next. But Mitch didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable and so his intentions were to say his goodbye and walk away but that exact moment was when Audrey had gestured for him to come in. Well that settled that, he thought and nodded before taking a few steps in and letting his eyes look around her place. He smiled a little seeing that the place was quite homey and felt oddly….warm-and not in the sense of temperature. “Very homey place you have here….” He told her with a smile and then heard the music in the background and chuckled with a real smile this time. “Boney James? Sunset Boulevard if I’m not correct?” Mitch asked and looked at Audrey opening the invitation and watched her text away. “So I see you’re a jazz fan. Interesting….” He said, slightly a bit more to himself then to her. Mitch Morison was a huge fan and expert of Jazz since he was born and raised in the location of where the soul of jazz was very popular. Hearing the message he smirked, “You’re very well. And, I thought you’d enjoy a good and classy party whether it was at my side or at someone else’s. No?” He challenged a little raising an eyebrow.

Audrey: Audrey nodded once in the middle of the typing, not surprised at all that he knew the artist since both of them came from a place were jazz was a big feature of the whole city. Of course, Mitch didn't know she know about it.  She waited for the man's answer and she smirked when she got it. Chuckling silently she shook his head and before going to the point that was forming in her head she asked him if he wanted some iced tea, either if he said no, she headed to the kitchen anyway and began typing on her phone one-handed. "Well you're partly right, I enjoy of a good party, classy or not so much. Not that picky haha. But let me see if I'm getting this right. That means you're trying to ask me to go to this party with you at the same time you're trying to be nonchalant about it that's why you gave me the choice of going with someone else. How close to the truth I was, Mitch?" She placed the phone on the kitchen isle as the text reproduced outloud and she looked at her with rised eyebrows as well.

Mitch: Mitch paid close attention to her reactions and chuckled a little at her hospitality which reminded him of back home as well. It was the first thing a host always asked their guests. “Yes, please. Iced tea would be lovely. Thank you….” He said shaking away the feeling that this all felt very natural. Hearing her question and observation, Mitch laughed and shrugged. The smirk played against his lips while he leaned against the counter across from her where she was getting the tea ready and said, “You got me all figured out love. Read right through me. Since that is the case, what shall the answer be then?” He asked, raising his own eyebrow and smirked. He had to give it to Audrey, she had been indeed right. But even if she wouldn’t agree to go with him to this party, he’d make sure she was with him by the end of the night.

Audrey: Point for me, Audrey thought, grabbing two glasses one at the time since her right hand was busy typying, she had been almost sure she would accept. She took her chance to get the pitch from the fridge when the text was being played and poured the liquid on the glasses, grinning wide knowing, for the second time in a row, she had been right. Shrugging, she looked down at Mitch who was now leaning over the isle and placed the glass in front of him. Tilting her head to a side, her hair following the movement, all of it flowing to her back, Audrey waited a couple of seconds with her eyes narrowed over him as if considering the answer even though she already knew it. Then, picking her phone she typed: "What can I say, I'm that good." She let it play and immediately started typing again. "In spite of the little effort you put on it, my answer is yes." She smiled, this time placing the phone down for him to read it.

Mitch: Chuckling, Mitch smiled and let her have the win. Like anyone who knew him, if he really wanted to win or be the smarter one of any situation, he would. But for something small like this, he didn’t mind letting someone have the win. Especially if that someone was a beautiful woman even without make up and in short shorts. Taking the glass, he lifted it up as a toast. “l’m glad to hear that answer love. Promise you won’t regret it.” He said with a wink. “What time do you want my limo to pick you up? I would pick you up but….as the host, I need to be there and make sure everything is in order. Does 7-7:30 sound alright to you?” he asked, watching her face for any little reactions or details that she may or may not give away.

Audrey: Audrey rolled her eyes one more time at Mitch's confident statement, though she doubted he would be wrong about it. So far, the three times they've met, they did have a good moment. Taking a sip from her glass , she pucked her lips, thinking on whether to accept his offer or not and in the end she typed: "That's really nice but I'll get there by myself. Not sure how long it'll take me to get ready, it's kind of an inaccurate science." She wrinckled her nose as she let him read. It was a partial truth, her other reason was simply that she liked her independance and move around without someone having a limo picking her up at a cerain time.

Mitch: Mitch chuckled a little and smirked. “You’re beautiful without makeup love! I would argue perhaps even more….” He said but this time smiled instead of a smirk and took a sip of the iced tea. “But, maybe you’d prefer to add a little foundation here and there and a bold lip color? Or maybe it depends on the outfit you’ll be wearing? Which I bet will cover very little of that olive skin of yours…” He teased with a smirk now on his lips and winked at her. Yes, he knew his way around makeup. Not because he liked it but because of the many photoshoots he had to do with his parents when he was younger and because of the interviews on TV or conferences he had to do for whatever reasons it may have been.

Audrey: Arching her brows, while it was kind of surprising he knew that about makeup, it took much more to impress Audrey, but his compliment about her not wearing makeup got him some points. "Nice and smooth move. But there's just much more you're missing, hon. But you just made me realize I have no outfit ready for this. Last moment invitations should not exist but I'm sure I'll find something in my closet." She typed, it was meant as a joke but of course, chances were he wouldn't get it." As Mitch read, Audrey took another sip, thoughtful about what she was going to wear; running her fingers through her long natural waves she pulled the hair back and her hand then fell to the side of her neck, gently scratching the area as she drifted back to the reality and to what Mitch was saying.

Mitch: Now it was Mitch’s turn to arch an eyebrow and laugh at what she had said-or well typed. “Nothing to wear? Even better! Go dressed in a bathing suit! The pool will be open and nearby. Plus, body shots are a must and what better attire then a two piece bikini?” He teased with a smirk though with all honestly, he wouldn’t mind seeing her in a two piece doing body shots or just in a two piece in general. Mitch chuckled a little to himself as he watched her run her hand through his hair and forced his hand to stay put and not touch what looked like the smoothest hair he had ever seen himself. However, once she scratched her neck, Mitch was drawn to a slightly more red area a little above the collar of the t-shirt and narrowed his eyes some. “Is…there something on your neck love?”

Audrey: Somehow, Audrey was expecting some kind of dirty comment coming from him sooner or later and it had been her own words that got her in the middle of those. She snorted and shook her head, trying to keep her smile from growing but finding it kind of impossible. However, part of her was thinking about those body shots and how hot it would be to have Mitch taking shots from her body, of course, that would lead them to more than doing shots and more to do each other, which was even a hotter thought. Back to the serious outfit choice, she looked back at him and her hand qickly covered her scar on her throat. She was usually quite self-conscious about it, never forgetting it was there but this time it didd't even crossed her mind. Her mouth opened and then closed, and grabbing her phone she typed. "It's a scar. Got it when I was 16 and the chemio for the cancer didn't work out. The rest is history, as they say." With the smallest of grimaces, she let himr ead while she got busy drinking the tea.

Mitch: Mitch smiled glad to see her smile growing and finally showing unable to resist his charm. With a smirk, his eyes watched her face as she processed his suggestion and chuckled quietly wondering where that dirty mind of hers was going. Though, Mitch didn’t have to wonder too much since he was no innocent bystander either; he knew exactly what she was thinking since he was hoping for the same thing or thinking of different sexual scenarios that could happen between the both of them yet again. Narrowing his eyes a little, she watched her reaction to his question or his comment and read the rest of the message. He swallowed a little and quickly noticed how uncomfortable that topic had become and instead decided to give her the space she needed. He’d wondered if perhaps there’d be another time or another place where he could ask and she’d be willing to tell him the whole story-if there was even more to begin with. “Well….I see your mind is already turning with possible outfits. Would it be best if I left and let you get to that?” He asked, though he was quite sure she wasn’t thinking about the outfits right now but more about the scar that she was trying to pretend didn’t bother her since it wasn’t covered.

Audrey: Mitch's reaction didn't surprised her a little bit, it was the usual reaction mostly everyone had when they saw the slightly pink-ish visible scar so she was used to it by now. To his credit, he didn't stutter or looked intently to it as he spoke. She shighed but in the end smiled, a real smile as she took her phone and typed. "I know it's awkward. Don't make it even more awkward, Mitch. But yes, it takes me a lot of time to get ready and in spite of your best dreams, I'll wear something that covers mostly everything." She grinned as she reproduced the text outloud and walked around the counter back to the entrance door. "Thank you again for the invitation it's really nice of you." She played out loud next.

Mitch: Laughing a little and setting the empty glass down, Mitch shook his head and smiled. “No love. You got it all wrong. It’s not awkward for me one bit. I just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable about it or ask questions that would make you uncomfortable. Perhaps there’ll be another time or place that’ll be right to ask about how that voice of yours is only heard by angels.” He commented with a gentle smile. Mitch turned towards the door and walked with her, enjoying the sneak peaks he took every now and then at her body from behind and smirked when she mentioned his dreams. “Oh love, you have no idea how good my dreams are….even with our clothes on we would d-well, I don’t want to give away any spoilers incase such events do come to play…” He teased a little and leaned in placing a soft kiss on her cheek and pulled back searching her face. “I’ll see you there then love….with or without clothes, completely up to you.” He joked one last time.

Audrey: Audrey was kind of pissed off at herself for getting herself be surprised by something that was already natural to her, she wasn't sure what had happened there, then, she was pissed off at Mitch for making her feel like that and him act completely fine about it. However, she acted cool about it, crocking her finger as she walked past him to led him to the door and gave him and unimpressed glance when he man talked about her dreams, if he thought his dreams were good, he'd have to seat and hear about hers. She slightly moved her chin up so Mitch's lips would meet with her cheek and she gave him a last roll of her eyes at his last comment before opening the door and leant against it, watching him walk out and away from her loft.  @aud-dev

-end-

[treasure-exo]

Destiny - 3

Genre: Angst, some fluff

Pairing: Chanyeol x reader

Word count: 4555

Description:  A tragedy that completely changed your routes to your destiny.

A/N: To cheer up all. Fighting. LOL

“What I’m saying is … they both should be separated.”

Seventeen months later

You kept on walking and walking, there are flowers underneath your silvery heels, leaves crumpling as you take your steps one by one getting ahead. You’re holding onto someone’s arm but you couldn’t bother to look sideways. You’re just walking and walking, not stopping or looking anywhere just walking.

You open your eyes, waking up with a start. A gasp leaving your lips searching for oxygen as you sit with a jolt. Your hands clench the sheets underneath. There’s a thin sheen of sweat all over your body, your clothes feel damp and heavy from soaking the sweat. You half wonder if you’re still dreaming or reality is in front of your blurry vision. You sigh taking in your surroundings. It’s still your bedroom, on your bed which always feel empty, empty in a way you can’t describe because something never felt like that before. In the hospital your mother told you then that it was an accident while you were driving on a sleepless night but you never could remember what exactly happened.

Another deep sigh before getting up and making your way towards your bathroom to get cleaned. Now fully awake after a refreshing hot shower but not feeling whole as you should before starting a new day. Waking up is no longer the pleasure it was, well it never had been after you came from the hospital. You get out of your room, steps lazy on the stairs as you go down.

“Hello sweetheart, slept well?” your mother greets, giving you a smile while setting the dining table for breakfast.

“Yes mom,” you direct monotonously, not looking up. Already sitting on your chair tapping your plate with your nails.

“What happened?” your mother ask, examining you with doe eyes. “I know something happened, is it that nightmare again?” she stops putting food on your plate to make you look at her.

“Mom, it’s rather a dream. Nothing seems wrong in it.” you sigh looking out of the window on the side.

“Yeah, nothing seems wrong when all you see is weird things. So honey, don’t pay attention to them, they will eventually fade away.” she is smiling at you, trying to convince you but it is working the other way around.

“They’re not fading anytime soon mom, they’ve always been there when I try to sleep, from the day I came from hospital. And nothing is weird when all I do in that is hold onto someone’s arm walking down an aisle in a white gown to nowhere, the way is going on and on. There is nothing further, all I see is the way leading to black. Beneath me there are flowers and the person whose arm I’m holding to I couldn’t bother to look. It looks like a wedding in which I’m the bride. Now mom tell me how is that weird when I’m in my own wedding.” you don’t know why you didn’t say weird to that dream because you always wake up gasping for more air after that.

“Just forget about that now. Hm?” she slightly pushed your plate your way after serving you food. She sits on her chair not letting her eyes leave your face for once. ”So, how’s going on with Baekhyun? Any progress?”

“Going what?” you ask, looking at your food in front of you.

“You know what I meant, but a bit specifically, are you doing? With him?” she leans forward with enthusiasm on which you want to laugh.

“You mean ‘sex’?” you air-quote chuckling with your mouth full which converted into a fit of laughter. “Mom please, no!!!! You know we are just friends and not those benefits one. Just simple friends.” your eyes are watering from too much laughing now.

“Not every simple friend dates and what’s so funny in what I asked?”

“Mom we are not dating, we just meet from time to time to know each other, particularly to know him and my past. I’m still gaining back my memories, remember?” you rubbed the corner of your eyes with the back of your palm.

Before she could argue any further, you complete your juice and say. “Ok mom now I’ve to leave or else I’ll get late.”

She nodded. “And when is this, your editor job are you resigning?”

“I love reading and writing. So, never.” you stand up, kisses the top of her head, muttering a bye before leaving.

You park your car in front of the building with coffee cup in one hand and your hand-bag in another. You collect every important paper from your car and turn around. You will get late if you don’t fasten up your speed and it’s an important day for you today because you got you first project yesterday and you have to give presentation.

You glance to the opposite side of the road. There is crowd in front of a shop which was empty and closed before. Steps getting a little slower when you see colorful items inside when some crowd scatter. Distracted from the uniqueness you stop midway trying to peek over the people to see more clearly. Nothing clear except some colorful strokes and a person towering all other but even that person is a blur.

No! You can’t get late. Shit, you forgot you have a important meeting and you must speed up your steps. Deciding to visit that place later, you run inside the building.

As you sit on your desk after your meeting, your mind goes few hours back to the morning outside your office building when you saw a crowd in the front shop. You don’t know why but you are just very curious about it, you can’t help. You stand up from your sit and walks over to the glass wall overlooking the road. Your desk is on first floor so just the floor of the shop is visible and someone’s feet hurrying inside. You sigh and go back to your desk, taking a glimpse of your wristwatch, it still says one hour remaining. You suppose you have to wait till that to calm your curiosity.

This is Chanyeol’s first night in his own room after coming from hospital. He was told in the hospital that five year had passed since 2012 and it is 2017 that’s going on. He was contemplating just what was happening then and how he ended in hospital after he was told this new information. It is odd, not that he lives in 2017 but that he is odd. Everything in him feel odd to him.

When he enters his room, he feels cold. Not like his body is cold but the warmth he should feel in his home, in his own room after this many days is not there. He feels alone and lonely, he feels suffocating in his own room. The windows are open but he is not feeling any air entering his room so he decides to sit on the chair in his balcony.

He looks down at the cars and vehicles passing by, the buzz calming him for sometime. So he closes his eyes and opts to stand.

Chanyeol can’t help but compare this night with his own state of mind. Just like the clouds, his insides are in chaos. A mess. Something is bothering him. Something is hurting him. Something is aching inside him. Something feels so wrong, so invalid but Chanyeol can’t tell what. He tries to pin the reason for this unexplained perturb but fails. Everything feels so confusing, like a puzzle. A puzzle that Chanyeol don’t know how to solve.

He sighs and goes back inside, closing the doors behind him. When he enters the first thing he     see is a cup full of paint brushes. He loves painting from when his father bought him painting colors and brushes on his sixth birthday as a present.

He picks one and leaves his room to find something.

After a tiring day, you step out of your building to take a breath of relief. But also you want to visit that shop to see whatever colorful things they have that catched your attention earlier. Holding the strap of your bag, you wait for the signal to turn green.

You stand in front of the shop now, white interiors shining through the glass windows and doors. There’s no one inside now except a lady concentrating on her notepad and writing something on it. You turn the door handle and step inside.

You from the start never expected it to be an art gallery. As you step inside you are met with beautiful and colorful paintings that decorates each wall. The lightings are white giving perfect exposure to the paintings. The strokes on them are visible, quintessential, making it look classic.

The place is huge, with some seats in between the walls. You walk to the nearest painting on your right. It’s a girl wearing a red dress which falls just below her knees, she is holding a white umbrella and a purse. Her face isn’t shown, her backside is visible and the umbrella is covering her head. Strange. Yet beautiful. You don’t know why but seeing a painting should make you feel cheerful instead it is conveying something else, hurt. Maybe because the girl is leaving, you thought. You look down at the information plate just like every other painting have, it is named ‘The Storm’.

Before you can move to the next one, someone clears their throat behind you and you turn looking at your phone on which some message arrived. You look up, she is the same lady who was was with her notepad earlier. She is the same height as yours, hair reaching her shoulders. She is wearing a pale pink halter dress. It looks unique on her and not every person who come inside wears a dress so you think she is maybe the owner of this place.

She bows. As soon as she straightens up, her eyes are fixed on you. Frozen. Like a winter puddle, her eyes are wide and her mouth agape. She is not blinking just her gaze is set on you. You can feel something twitch inside her, probably feelings. She mutters welcome with something else, you think it is your name just half though but then she immediately looks away, rubbing back of her neck. There is a small smile on her face or you may be imagining things again.

How does she know my name?

“Uhm.. I.. Do I know you? I mean do you know me? I.. it’s like I had a memory loss and I’m still unaware of so many people, so I..” you trail off, unable to form any words. There is frown on your face, confusion too. You don’t know why her reaction seeing you was like that, there may be something see knows about you.

“...Probably not. I… I’m Park Yoora, sister of the painter who owns this gallery and an assistant.” she answer before excusing herself for sometime. You can tell she was holding her breath from the moment she saw you.

You shrug, even though you want to know what she was up to. Returning to where you stopped, you start again. You realize after finishing half that Yoora is back and is standing right behind you. You turn and she passes you a smile. A smile you know is not given to strangers or customers.

“Who is the painter?” you ask, eyes blinking. “Like seriously I would like to meet whoever is the painter, I mean look at these they all are radiating emotions and to make someone feel emotions through a painting is a difficult job and they are beautiful too.”

She giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. Her giggles sounds perfect to your ears and familiar. You shake this thought out of your mind. “He isn’t here at the moment.”

“Who says?” a deep manly voice ringed from the corner. He starts walking towards both of you,  hands in his pants’ pockets, stridding slowly. He is very tall, and his ears are unique. He is wearing a turtleneck and pants with glasses on his eyes. The painter is looking even more elegant than his paintings with his perfectly painted features.

“Who says the painter isn’t here,” he starts, standing beside the lady staring at you. His eyes are big and round and you find yourself staring back momentarily taken aback from your surroundings.

“Hello I’m Park Chanyeol,” he smiles, extending his hand. You are so captivated by his charm and his mesmerizing smile that you don't notice his hand. Yoora coughs from beside and you look down at his hand. His touch was soft and it feels like a deja vu. God, everything feels like a deja vu here, You think. Your skin is having that tingling sensation when he withdraw his hand back. “The painter and owner of this gallery and Yoora’s younger brother.”

He starts a normal conversation with you as you both advance further. Yoora is witnessing this whole scenario from corner of her eyes walking beside her brother silently. Not paying much attention to her you listen to Chanyeol cracking jokes and explaining about the paintings.

And you, instead of the explanation he’s giving you, you are concentrating on his voice and the way his lips opens and closes, his tongue which comes out periodically to wet his lips. He looks hot...NO. You should not think that and feel like that for someone you just met. You don’t feel like this towards Baekhyun even if your mother told you he was your boyfriend before that accident happened which you don’t consider.

You look forward to distract yourself from Chanyeol and his voice. At the end of the room, on the wall there is a painting which catch your attention. It is the only painting on that wall, nothing else. That painting is not huge just enough to decorate a plain wall and there’s no information plate below it. Curiosity leads your steps to the painting.

You are blatantly staring at that painting, observing it. If you are asked about the finest painting from all in this gallery, it’s unreasonably this. There’s a girl standing on top of the hill, in middle of a grass field overlooking the valley. Again you don’t know how she looks, her back is facing you. Her hair are flowing in the direction of the wind and she’s looking at something. She is feeling cold. You don’t know how you can feel that but maybe your observation skills are strengthening and you can see her hugging herself.

You take a step forward, stretching your hand to touch the girl as if she is in front of you. You hear someone from the back mumble ‘you can’t touc-’ but someone else cut them off. You gasp as your hand lay on the girl like you can feel her skin beneath.

You are running in a grass field, teasing someone at the back for being too slow. Once you reach at the top, you take deep breaths taking in the pure oxygen. The wind is making your hair and dress flow and the cold making you shiver a bit. You rub your palms on upper arms to create heat. The atmosphere is cool unlike the crowded city.

You hear leaves crumbling behind you but you don’t turn back. Two hands encircles around your waist and body pressed up against your back, their chin resting on your shoulder. Their heat was radiating and you feel warmth. You smile enveloping your hands on theirs. You don’t know who is that person, you can’t see and don’t bother to see, just enjoying the beauty around you.

You take a step forward to look down for grass, flowers and plants, the person still behind. A deer is running down catching your attention. It is just as beautiful between the green fields. You don’t know why but you feel this is as a first time. Being in a grass field on top of some hill and being with some person whose identity you don’t know yet.

The person pulls you back, their breath tickling your neck and you giggle. It seems as if they are singing something for you or speaking but as melodious as singing. It’s not clear what though, not even if they have thick or thin voice. You can’t decipher what is going on and why are you feeling new. You stand like that enjoying the nature and warmth of someone else. Suddenly, the grip on your waist tightens and you are pulled back pressing into the person whose breath you can feel on your ear. You stand still, a bit surprised and you finally hear ‘I love you.’

You are blinking rapidly, your hand still touching the girl in the painting and you immediately retrieve back. You feel a hand on your shoulder which is shaking you slightly.

“I’ll buy this,” you announce, turning your head to a shocked Chanyeol. Your words came faster than you thought of them. Chanyeol stands there for some minutes, looking at you with confused eyes.

“I’m sorry this painting is not on sale,” Yoora starts, stepping forward making an eye-contact with you.

“I’ll pay whatever amount you’ll tell me to but just give me this painting,” you are looking expectantly from Chanyeol to Yoora and Yoora to Chanyeol.

“I mean it’s not about the price, you can buy any other one just not this. This one is Chanyeol’s favorite and he don’t-”

Chanyeol reaches for Yoora’s hand before she can speak any further gesturing her to stop. He takes one step ahead beside you, hands in his pockets looking at the artwork. “I’ll give this to you.” a pause, “but on one condition.”

“Condition?” you ask, looking at him with confusion.

“Yes, you just have to tell me what you felt when you saw this painting, I mean what kind of emotions or feelings. If your answer lays an impact on me, this will be yours without anything.”

From the first look people can say that the painting conveys something dark but for you it was different. You felt joy, love and warmth, you don’t know how but you just felt like that.

“I felt… I felt love,” his expression changes from confused to anticipating, looking towards you now. He nods to let you continue. “I don’t know why but I could see love, happiness and peace radiating from this. A kind of positive energy in this piece of art says me to buy it and that’s when I decided to buy it.”

You wait for sometime, looking at his round eyes, anticipation in your own. You want to know if your answer really impressed him and he’s willing to give you his favorite painting or not. A minute passes by or two before he opens his mouth.

“This is yours,” he muse, a smile on his face which replaces his previous confusion or whatever it was. “But I want to you to know why though.” you nod.

“This was the very first painting I tried, I was so proud of it because I thought it reflects love and started showing it. But every single person saw loneliness, grief or longing in this, from this girl which was not the case when I drew it. And now after so much time you said you felt love from it and that’s why I’m giving this to you.”

“Thank you,” the only words you can say with a nod.

He asked Yoora to take it down and wrap it so you can take it with you. While leaving after seeing all the paintings, you notice a common thing maybe not a thing but a common person. The paintings are all different ranging from abstract to nature to fantasy to a girl. The girl seem to be common. That girl seems to be a mystery, her face is always hidden. Either her back is facing or her face is hidden under a hat or glasses but always unclear.

You want to ask Chanyeol about that girl, if that girl is same or just some inspiration from random girls, but you know you can’t ask that to a person you just met. He waves you goodbye before you cross the road.

The painting is placed on the passenger’s seat a while ago when you were still inside. It took you a hour to admire all the artpiece and you know you are late for home and your mother can call you anytime. But you don’t want to go home, not yet after you possibly gained back a snippet of memory. You don’t even know that it is some memory of yours or just illusion. You want fresh air to breathe and think about the sudden blow of memory.

So you take out your phone and call your driver to take the car back and tell your mother not to worry about anything. You decide to walk home instead, it is few miles from your workplace and it will take some time to reach home but it’ll be worth it. You can think about what happened earlier and also walking some few miles means exercise which you haven’t done from a long time.

You start walking, hands in your jeans pockets, enjoying the fresh air. It was sudden, just a touch of some girl in the painting brought back a part of your memory. You think you should go out meet new people and try to see new things which can bring back your memory even if it’s a part.

While thinking about possibilities on how to bring back your memories, your mind constantly diverts to the man who is the creator of that painting. You try to shake away his thoughts, how his skin felt when you touched his hand, his smile and his glasses which make him look hot instead of a nerd. You regret not saying your name or that you work just opposite to his gallery but you also don’t because that means you can meet him again.

You don’t realize until you lift your head that you’re in a different neighbourhood. Your legs just kept walking while you were thinking looking down except occasionally to avoid bumping into pedestrians.

This neighbourhood is not the kind in which you live, it’s rather a normal one with buildings and houses not as big as yours. The people out aren’t wearing some rich elegant or branded clothes. Yet it looks familiar. You don’t know how you reached her but you did. You start your walk, eyes wandering about the buildings.

You see an accustom street to your left and turn that way. Walking straight for about a while feeling uneasy and you stop, there is an apartment on your right that catches your eye. You can’t help but to stare that small place all the uneasiness you felt walking down this street vanished when you looked at that apartment.

Ignoring this and not looking back you start walking faster almost running and cross a corner. Tired is the word for you right now after walking miles into some new neighbourhood and running from some strange place. You want to sit, you need to sit desperately. There is a direction of a park on a road sign next to you showing directions and you follow.

The place is not crowded, a few children playing and their mothers gossiping while sitting on benches. You sit on one of the bench a bit dirty by the fallen leaves and dirt but that is the only one unoccupied. Taking deep breaths you rest for awhile watching the sun on the horizon an absolute orange. Eyes trailing the happy faces of the children playing on swings.

Then you notice this bench is having some carvings on it, different ones in hearts or clouds. And in the center of all there is a huge heart carved in which someone’s initials are written, ‘C & ’. The other initial is scratched or rubbed off from overuse so it is not readable but the handwriting is similar or that’s your intuition.

You are giggling at some joke someone is telling you. There is no particular face just someone. You scoot closer stopping the other one from speaking any further. Not knowing what you are doing, you lay your head on their lap adjusting yourself on the small bench.

They are caressing your hair, ruffling them in between. You close your eyes at their voice, it comes in a whisper. They are asking something and upon that you nod. You suddenly sit looking at the bench.

You say something like ‘this bench looks so plain’ and the reaction to that is not known because you are searching for something in the grass. Sharp stones. That person’s eyes are on you the whole time and you can feel that.

“Let’s write our initials as a memory and make it look artistic,” you say, placing a stone in their hand and start scribbling a heart. A huge one.

It looks pleasing to your eyes as you start writing the initials in the big heart you drew earlier. There’s a constant nagging voice of getting caught or something but you ignore, adoring the initials. You run your hand on it before smiling at it.

You are running your hand unconsciously over the heart which you draw back immediately. You take a stone from the ground and scratch your initial below C hastily. It feels nothing like back then but you can tell the handwriting are yours.

You stand and run outside feeling even more anxious of the memories that are coming back because you don’t know yet that they’re yours or not. You run as far as possible not wanting to look back or go back to that strange neighbourhood. Sweat is covering your forehead and your vision becomes blurry but you forget to stop.

Even though you are exhausted, you can’t stop running. You take out your phone and dial your driver’s phone number and inform him your location so he can come pick you up.

It’s interesting. You thought, that the part would be far away from your home but it’s actually not.

On reaching home you ask your driver not to tell your mom anything about the place you were and he replied with a nod and a smile as if he had done that so many times. It is confusing you. Actually, all the things that happened today is confusing you.

You hang your painting on the wall, observing it. Rolling on your bed left to right to left contemplating things. You don’t know what to do and how to find that certain someone who is always visible yet an illusion.

Either you ask someone who knows your past or wait until your memories are back. But you are impatient and can’t wait for so long so you finally decide to ask someone aside from your mom who instead of encouraging you, will stop you from reaching out for help.

Pulling your phone you dial the first name that comes into your mind.

“Hello, Baekhyun we need to talk.”

Destiny masterlist

[demitgibbs]

Ptown Gears Up For Inclusive Summer Fun

It’s September in Provincetown, Massachusetts, the cool-crisp calm before the bitter-cold calm: wintertime, when travelers admire the cozy Cape Cod resort town’s frosted beauty beside a fireplace inside a cabin. The iced rich-blue Provincetown Harbor to the southeast, Cape Cod Bay to the south and west, Massachusetts Bay to the northwest and north, and the Atlantic Ocean to the northeast catch peeks of sunshine that the boys of summer cannot enjoy until they eagerly return again.

After a long stretch of hibernation, those boys fly or ferry back to the island, beach-ready. When temps reach a desirable enough high (60 degrees is fine), they rush over in droves to one of the hottest gay vacation getaways to partake in the reason for the season: pool parties. They are reunited with direct sun, gyrating porn stars, unicorn floats and Mr. Turk speedos.

A luxury resort owned and run by three gay men who are partners in business and life, Thomas Walter, David Sanford and Ken Masi, the Brass Key Guesthouse has established itself as a home away from home for LGBTQ (and sometimes straight, married) vacationers. For the town’s biggest party, Carnival Week, last year at the Brass Key, held as a benefit for the Provincetown Business Guild, everything that might restrain pool-goers’ pure water fun – tables, lounge chairs – was stashed away to accommodate a line so long it looped around the block. A couple hundred attendees splashed and romped around in the pool, riding their gay floats, sipping their festive margs.

It’s busy. How busy? Because of shampoo and “whatever else,” “the water’s not so clear” at the end of the day, said Walter, sitting in a quiet, conversational nook near the pool where, come 1 p.m. Aug. 19, adult video star Trenton Ducati will greet sunbathers with a smile and a bulge. (Ducati will meet-and-greet guests and visitors inside the Shipwreck Lounge, a laid-back bar that also serves as the Brass Key’s check-in lobby.)

Nestled within the Brass Key’s 43 rooms and suites, housed in nine buildings, is an enchanting, flower-filled playground: the heated infinity-edge outdoor pool, a sizable 15-person hot tub, with rows of poolside recliners for ogling nearby frolickers (there’s even a small nudist section if you prefer an even, full-body tan). Within the pool area is an inviting communal patio, where every day at 9 a.m. I stepped down from my pleasantly new-old upstairs room and enjoyed a hot, hearty breakfast; at 5 p.m., I sipped wine and overindulged on hearty spreads of artisan cheese set up for happy hour.

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The Brass Key Guesthouse

Happy hour at the Brass Key

Commercial Street in Provincetown

A room at the Brass Key

Guests will say hi. They might pull up a seat. This happened to me; as a lone traveler, I greatly relished their amiable company. I met a polite and self-effacing gay guy and his spunky gal pal, a lovely gay couple who invited me on their afternoon bike-riding excursion into town, some chatty lesbian wives, and a manager of a nearby boarding house known for its bathhouse-type appeal who took a late-night dip in the hot tub with me. His budget lodge is far from a resort, and he said he really loves their jacuzzi. In Provincetown, everyone is dreaming the same dream.

Brass Key is just steps from Commercial Street, Ptown’s main drag, lined with art galleries, clothing boutiques, trendy restaurants and glimpses of the bluest of water. Like clockwork, the ever-popular Tea Dance, the town’s outdoor gay dance party, begins at 4 p.m. and runs through 7 p.m. at the Boatslip Beach Club (beginning May 3).

Charming, right? Walter and Sanford, who met in their senior year of high school, thought so too. Even though Fire Island was closer, they would occasionally leave New York, where they were living, to head to Ptown. “We were just drawn to Ptown,” Walter said. “We just fell in love.”

They envisioned themselves living there one day, but thought it a long shot. “It was always a pipe dream,” Walter said. But when they eyed a corner property, the Dusty Miller Inn, on Bradford Street, their hearts were set on owning it. Aware of their interest, their friend Adam left a message on their answering machine: the current owners of the guesthouse at the time were willing to sell, he told them. In 1998, Walter and Sanford officially became the owners of the property, now called Crowne Pointe Historic Inn & Spa (Masi would join them as a proprietor in 2007).

Their quaint sprawl comprises six buildings, including the full service Shui Spa, one of two spas in the country exclusively using Kiehl’s products, and The Pointe Restaurant. Named one of “The Best Hotel Restaurants in Cape Cod” by Fodor’s Travel, the pier-to-plate restaurant impresses with a modern, premier dining experience and a full wine bar.

Across the street is the Brass Key, a property they bought in 2008 (altogether, Walter said they own “around 20” buildings in Ptown, including the Provincetown Pet Resort). Unit by unit, the owners gutted the Brass Key’s buildings to modernize their “grandma” look, adding luxury suites and the Shipwreck. Now, the property is coastal chic, but still of another time. Walter calls it “historically hip.” With big hand-carved headboards and antique furniture, “each building has its own identity,” he said.  

“Ken and I were saying it was closed off and known as the place rich old men would stay and it’s not friendly,” Walter said. “We worked really hard to change that culture and change that perception.” On Shipwreck’s patio, a giant fire pit sizzles, occupied by a small crowd of diverse, friendly blend minglers. The non-guests look on through the gate, curious of what dreaminess and late-night debauchery awaits.

Inside the bar, Masi or Walter sometimes tend bar, because if you own a business, everything is your responsibility. As a business developer for a major entertainment TV giant (he said he’s unable to mention the company by name, per their request), Walter wore many hats, involving marketing, accounting and creative ventures, which offered him insight when it came to running his own business. Staying in a variety of hotels, he said, is where he learned hospitality dos and don’ts.

As for Sanford, his engineering background aids in maintaining the physical plan and overseeing renovations and maintenance, while Masi, a Duke grad who Walter calls “chameleon-like,” was an editor for Boating magazine and does promo and website writing for their properties. He said their day-to-day is wildly unpredictable.

One late night during my visit, Walter was handling a diabetic guest who wasn’t responsibly managing his alcohol intake (he sent a pizza to the man’s room); the next morning Walter was checking on – and, naturally, playing with – the dogs at their pet resort. “Because there’s three of us, we’re able to divide and conquer,” he said. “David always thinks of the business as a cruise ship: I’m the captain and my job is to just get the cruise ship from one place to another.”

Their operation is fine-tuned, their dream realized. The three of them split their time between two gay-friendly places, Fort Lauderdale and Ptown. Walter said Ptown “is not necessarily a gay town; it’s a town where being gay is a non-issue; it’s not even really considered; it’s not even a factor in town politics.”

“It’s a town where sexual orientation is a non-issue, which is unique and special,” he emphasizes, “and one of the things that drew us to it.”

For this reason, my new Ptown friends Jay and Alan return to Brass Key every year. They love it in September, just as the party winds down and solitude sets in. I loved it then too.

One early afternoon, we walked the magnificent breakwater, a mile-long stretch of granite boulders, snapping photos of each other as we trekked through scattered brush and the damp low-tide bed, bound for the lighthouse near the shore of Herring Cove Beach. They kindly treated me to dinner at Mistralino Ristorante on our last night.

After we finished our meal, we laughed some hearty laughs over more wine on the porch of the two-level Brass Key suite they book every year. For one night, we were all experiencing the same magic of a shared dream in the wine-drenched stillness rendered by our postcard-perfect surroundings.

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2019/04/11/ptown-gears-up-for-inclusive-summer-fun/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.tumblr.com/post/184108804000

[hotspotsmagazine]

Ptown Gears Up For Inclusive Summer Fun

It’s September in Provincetown, Massachusetts, the cool-crisp calm before the bitter-cold calm: wintertime, when travelers admire the cozy Cape Cod resort town’s frosted beauty beside a fireplace inside a cabin. The iced rich-blue Provincetown Harbor to the southeast, Cape Cod Bay to the south and west, Massachusetts Bay to the northwest and north, and the Atlantic Ocean to the northeast catch peeks of sunshine that the boys of summer cannot enjoy until they eagerly return again.

After a long stretch of hibernation, those boys fly or ferry back to the island, beach-ready. When temps reach a desirable enough high (60 degrees is fine), they rush over in droves to one of the hottest gay vacation getaways to partake in the reason for the season: pool parties. They are reunited with direct sun, gyrating porn stars, unicorn floats and Mr. Turk speedos.

A luxury resort owned and run by three gay men who are partners in business and life, Thomas Walter, David Sanford and Ken Masi, the Brass Key Guesthouse has established itself as a home away from home for LGBTQ (and sometimes straight, married) vacationers. For the town’s biggest party, Carnival Week, last year at the Brass Key, held as a benefit for the Provincetown Business Guild, everything that might restrain pool-goers’ pure water fun – tables, lounge chairs – was stashed away to accommodate a line so long it looped around the block. A couple hundred attendees splashed and romped around in the pool, riding their gay floats, sipping their festive margs.

It’s busy. How busy? Because of shampoo and “whatever else,” “the water’s not so clear” at the end of the day, said Walter, sitting in a quiet, conversational nook near the pool where, come 1 p.m. Aug. 19, adult video star Trenton Ducati will greet sunbathers with a smile and a bulge. (Ducati will meet-and-greet guests and visitors inside the Shipwreck Lounge, a laid-back bar that also serves as the Brass Key’s check-in lobby.)

Nestled within the Brass Key’s 43 rooms and suites, housed in nine buildings, is an enchanting, flower-filled playground: the heated infinity-edge outdoor pool, a sizable 15-person hot tub, with rows of poolside recliners for ogling nearby frolickers (there’s even a small nudist section if you prefer an even, full-body tan). Within the pool area is an inviting communal patio, where every day at 9 a.m. I stepped down from my pleasantly new-old upstairs room and enjoyed a hot, hearty breakfast; at 5 p.m., I sipped wine and overindulged on hearty spreads of artisan cheese set up for happy hour.

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The Brass Key Guesthouse

Happy hour at the Brass Key

Commercial Street in Provincetown

A room at the Brass Key

Guests will say hi. They might pull up a seat. This happened to me; as a lone traveler, I greatly relished their amiable company. I met a polite and self-effacing gay guy and his spunky gal pal, a lovely gay couple who invited me on their afternoon bike-riding excursion into town, some chatty lesbian wives, and a manager of a nearby boarding house known for its bathhouse-type appeal who took a late-night dip in the hot tub with me. His budget lodge is far from a resort, and he said he really loves their jacuzzi. In Provincetown, everyone is dreaming the same dream.

Brass Key is just steps from Commercial Street, Ptown’s main drag, lined with art galleries, clothing boutiques, trendy restaurants and glimpses of the bluest of water. Like clockwork, the ever-popular Tea Dance, the town’s outdoor gay dance party, begins at 4 p.m. and runs through 7 p.m. at the Boatslip Beach Club (beginning May 3).

Charming, right? Walter and Sanford, who met in their senior year of high school, thought so too. Even though Fire Island was closer, they would occasionally leave New York, where they were living, to head to Ptown. “We were just drawn to Ptown,” Walter said. “We just fell in love.”

They envisioned themselves living there one day, but thought it a long shot. “It was always a pipe dream,” Walter said. But when they eyed a corner property, the Dusty Miller Inn, on Bradford Street, their hearts were set on owning it. Aware of their interest, their friend Adam left a message on their answering machine: the current owners of the guesthouse at the time were willing to sell, he told them. In 1998, Walter and Sanford officially became the owners of the property, now called Crowne Pointe Historic Inn & Spa (Masi would join them as a proprietor in 2007).

Their quaint sprawl comprises six buildings, including the full service Shui Spa, one of two spas in the country exclusively using Kiehl’s products, and The Pointe Restaurant. Named one of “The Best Hotel Restaurants in Cape Cod” by Fodor’s Travel, the pier-to-plate restaurant impresses with a modern, premier dining experience and a full wine bar.

Across the street is the Brass Key, a property they bought in 2008 (altogether, Walter said they own “around 20” buildings in Ptown, including the Provincetown Pet Resort). Unit by unit, the owners gutted the Brass Key’s buildings to modernize their “grandma” look, adding luxury suites and the Shipwreck. Now, the property is coastal chic, but still of another time. Walter calls it “historically hip.” With big hand-carved headboards and antique furniture, “each building has its own identity,” he said.  

“Ken and I were saying it was closed off and known as the place rich old men would stay and it’s not friendly,” Walter said. “We worked really hard to change that culture and change that perception.” On Shipwreck’s patio, a giant fire pit sizzles, occupied by a small crowd of diverse, friendly blend minglers. The non-guests look on through the gate, curious of what dreaminess and late-night debauchery awaits.

Inside the bar, Masi or Walter sometimes tend bar, because if you own a business, everything is your responsibility. As a business developer for a major entertainment TV giant (he said he’s unable to mention the company by name, per their request), Walter wore many hats, involving marketing, accounting and creative ventures, which offered him insight when it came to running his own business. Staying in a variety of hotels, he said, is where he learned hospitality dos and don’ts.

As for Sanford, his engineering background aids in maintaining the physical plan and overseeing renovations and maintenance, while Masi, a Duke grad who Walter calls “chameleon-like,” was an editor for Boating magazine and does promo and website writing for their properties. He said their day-to-day is wildly unpredictable.

One late night during my visit, Walter was handling a diabetic guest who wasn’t responsibly managing his alcohol intake (he sent a pizza to the man’s room); the next morning Walter was checking on – and, naturally, playing with – the dogs at their pet resort. “Because there’s three of us, we’re able to divide and conquer,” he said. “David always thinks of the business as a cruise ship: I’m the captain and my job is to just get the cruise ship from one place to another.”

Their operation is fine-tuned, their dream realized. The three of them split their time between two gay-friendly places, Fort Lauderdale and Ptown. Walter said Ptown “is not necessarily a gay town; it’s a town where being gay is a non-issue; it’s not even really considered; it’s not even a factor in town politics.”

“It’s a town where sexual orientation is a non-issue, which is unique and special,” he emphasizes, “and one of the things that drew us to it.”

For this reason, my new Ptown friends Jay and Alan return to Brass Key every year. They love it in September, just as the party winds down and solitude sets in. I loved it then too.

One early afternoon, we walked the magnificent breakwater, a mile-long stretch of granite boulders, snapping photos of each other as we trekked through scattered brush and the damp low-tide bed, bound for the lighthouse near the shore of Herring Cove Beach. They kindly treated me to dinner at Mistralino Ristorante on our last night.

After we finished our meal, we laughed some hearty laughs over more wine on the porch of the two-level Brass Key suite they book every year. For one night, we were all experiencing the same magic of a shared dream in the wine-drenched stillness rendered by our postcard-perfect surroundings.

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2019/04/11/ptown-gears-up-for-inclusive-summer-fun/

[bulletproof-heaven]

The Angel In Pink - Chapter 4

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5

Namjoon has never been so nervous in his life. Not when he had his first negotiation meeting. Not when he did his first interrogation. And definitely not when he put a bullet into someone’s head for the first time. But here he is, standing outside the door that he is oh so familiar with, hands slightly sweaty, heart definitely racing.

The leader raised a hand to knock but he before he could the door opened and he froze. Standing in front of him was Jin wearing a large pink sweater with blue jeans, hair looking soft, and lips looking plump –Is he wearing lip gloss?

“Oh,” Jin looked really surprised before turning to lock his front door.  “I saw your car and I was just about to walk down”.

“You look beautiful” Namjoon said with a small smile, holding out his arm like a gentleman from the movies.

“Th-thank you” Jin was really taken aback by this sudden comment, slipping his arm through the other’s before they walked to the car. “So what do you have planned for us, tonight?”

“It is a secret” He opened the car door for Jin before hopping into the driver’s seat.

Since he first met Namjoon, Jin doesn’t even know how many times the guy had made his jaw drop to the ground. They walked into the restaurant he has been dreaming about ever since it opened, before sitting down and ordering their food.

“How did you get a table here?” Jin exclaimed. They were sitting in one of Seoul’s best restaurants that usually has to be book a year in advanced due to how busy it is. Not to mention the fact that they are in the most requested table.

“I have connections” Namjoon winked and Jin felt his heart flutter a bit. Truth be told, Bangtan is the owner of this restaurant so it wasn’t hard for him to get a table, however, there were some things about himself that he didn’t want to tell Jin just yet.

“So what do you do for a living for you to have such connections?” Jin asked.

“I’m…” Namjoon’s phone pinged alerting him that he received a text message. He glanced at it before putting it down just as another message came, “… a business man” He replied, which technically wasn’t a lie.

“Huh” Jin hummed before noticing how Namjoon kept looking at his phone. “Hot date later?” He joked.

“What?” Namjoon sputtered before realising, “No”. He placed his phone faced down on the table, “My hyung, the same one that stabbed me, just arrived home from Taiwan and he said that someone stole his bag”.

“Oh that’s terrible, is he going to stab that person too?” Jin laughed at his own joke. Namjoon froze before letting out a forced laugh as well.

“Well, I hope he doesn’t”.

“Do you need to go?” Jin asked just as their food was placed in front of them

“No” Namjoon shook his head before giving him a goofy smile, “You have my fully undivided attention”.

Namjoon had the time of his life as he spent the last two hours learning different things about Jin without breaking the law. He learnt that Jin always wanted to become a doctor because he liked helping people, and that he also considered becoming a chef. And with every little thing, the way Jin laugh sounds like a windshield wiper, the way he gets really worked up when he’s defensive –he yells and his head turns from side to side, with every little thing, Namjoon finds himself more and more in love.

“Yeah, I do” Jin nodded, finishing his meal and takes a sip from his glass of water. “but I also like going to galleries”.

“You like art?”

He nodded.

“Let’s go” Namjoon stood up and Jin quickly followed his actions. They didn’t even pay, Namjoon just walks straight past the person at reception with a nod. Jin found it really odd how the manager just bows and says, “Have a nice evening, Mr. Kim”.

“Where are we going?” Jin questioned as they hopped into the car and Namjoon started driving.

“Back to my house”.

Jin watched as the city lights go past as they travelled to the other side of town; he was impressed, to say the least. He usually hated dating, when he had the time for it. It was always the same every time, ‘why did you want to become a doctor instead of a model?’, ‘have you ever thought about it?’, ‘well I think…’, and then it goes me me me, me this, me that. Date nights normally end with him glancing at his watch or phone every 10 seconds, trying to think of a way to leave so he could go home and watch a movie while pigging out on ice-cream. But tonight was different.

“Okay, when you said house, I didn’t think you meant mansion”.

Namjoon just laughed as he parked in the garage before heading over to Jin’s door to open it for him. They walked into the living room and Hoseok was the only one laying on the couch.

He turned his head to greet the leader but the words got stuck when he saw the man following closely behind.

“Hi,” He gave Jin is usual sunshine smile as he held out his hand, “I’m Hoseok. Namjoon’s housemate”.

“I’m Jin. Namjoon’s...” Jin glanced at the leader,

“…doctor?”

“…boyfriend” Namjoon blurts out and Hoseok laughs.

“Are you sure? Cause doctor and boyfriend are two very different things”.

“He’s my boyfriend” the leader confirms, giving Jin a dimpled smile. “Jin, could you excuse us for a moment?”

“Yeah, sure” the doctor replied before sitting down on the couch to watch whatever channel Hoseok was watching a few minutes ago.

Namjoon and Hoseok took a few steps to the side before Hoseok whispered, osehe

“I’m not even going to start on how stupid this idea is”.

Namjoon just glared at him before whispering, “I’m going to show Jin around the house…there’s no dead bodies anywhere, right?”

Hoseok shook his head quickly before giving Jin an inconspicuous smile as the man looked over to the two, “No, I just cleaned.”

“Great” Namjoon announced, “We’re going to the gallery, we’ll see you later”.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hoseok” Jin smiled politely before following after Namjoon as the man walked down the hall way.

“It’s nice to meet you too”.

The two of them spent the next hour walking through Bangtan’s extensive art collection. Namjoon thanks whoever is up there that Jin just assumes the paintings were all brought from auction or exhibitions –He really didn’t want to lie again.

“So I’m your boyfriend now, am I?” Jin teased as he analyses one of the artworks.

“Yeah,” Namjoon replied before asking, “Is…Is that okay? I know we’ve only been on one date but…” He trailed off to knowing what to say. He just hoped for the best.

The doctor thinks about it for a moment; smiling at the way the other tenses up, waiting for his answer. He nods, “Yeah, that’s perfectly find with me”.

“So what do you think about a kis-”

“Joon-ah,” he interrupted, suddenly looking around with a frown on his face, “Do you hear something?”

Namjoon furrowed his brows as he tried to listen for whatever Jin was hearing, “No?”

“It sounds like someone’s crying” Jin started walking down the hall, away from the art gallery. Namjoon followed after him and after turning a corner, he could clearly hear the sobs coming from the interrogation room. His eyes widened as he quickly blocked Jin from opening the door, “I’m sure it’s just Yoongi hyung watching a movie. Are you hungry? let’s go get you some food”.

Namjoon quickly placed both of his hands on Jin’s broad shoulders and guided him into the kitchen, where Taehyung was currently sitting on the counter, shoulders hunched, digging into a pint of ice-cream.

“Jin, this is...” Namjoon looked at the boy with a disgruntled expression. Taehyung had melted ice-cream all over his hands, chin, and it was slowly dripping down to his shirt, “…this is Taehyung, Hoseok’s boyfriend. Taehyung, this is Jin”.

The boy’s eyes widened at the name as he quickly reached his hand out, “Hi, I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you”.

“Taehyung, rude” Namjoon scolded him but Jin just laughed.

“I’ve heard nothing about you too so I guess we’re even”.

“Why are you in our house?” Taehyung pulled his hand back once he realised he had ice-cream all over it.

“Again, rude. He’s here because I invited him” Namjoon sighed, “Didn’t we talk about sitting on the counter?”

“Yeah, why?” Taehyung nodded before shoving more ice-cream in his mouth, totally not understanding why they were talking about the topic again.

“You know what? I give up” Namjoon threw his hands up as Jin took a step forward towards the boy.

“Why are you eating ice-cream all alone?”

“Cause I’m sad” Taehyung shoved the spoon into the pint with a pout.

“Why are you sad?”. Namjoon started to notice how the elder was talking to Taehyung as if he was a child. It was working surprisingly well.

“Because Hobi was being mean to me”.

Jin looked over to Namjoon, mouthing ‘Hobi?’, in which the leader mouthed back, ‘Hoseok’.

“What did Hobi do?” Jin hopped up onto the counter, sitting beside with Taehyung and Namjoon watched him with an exasperated expression. He was trying to get Taehyung off the counter, not another person on.

“I told him about a boy that I saw but he...” Taehyung started to cry while Jin tried to wipe the ice-cream off the boy’s face with wet tissues, listening intently. Namjoon took this chance when Jin is distracted to see what the crying sound was in the interrogation room. The sobbing was still very loud even though 10 minutes had past. The leader walked through the door and stopped, looking at the scene in confusion.

“Eh…” Namjoon was speechless, “Wha-what is this?”

He thought Yoongi was interrogating a rival gang member. Someone who had done them wrong but there was small boy tied to a chair, gagged with tears falling freely from his eyes. The boy didn’t look a day over sixteen, big glossy eyes, chubby cheeks, plush pink lips. Yoongi was off to the side, choosing knives off the table. Namjoon knew that the second-in-command probably hadn’t even looked at the boy properly, too immersed in his weapons.

“This is Park Jimin,” Yoongi had a sadistic smile on his face as he played with the knife in his hands. “He was the only who stole my bag at the airport”.

“Are you going to kill him?” Namjoon asked, “Or…?”

The boy started sobbing even louder upon hearing Namjoon’s words. He didn’t want to die; he was too young to die.

“I’m just going to ask him some questions”

“And how do you expect him to answer with his mouth gagged?” he raised an eyebrow. “We talked about this, they need to be able to answer the questions before you stab them for not answering”.

Yoongi sighed, much like a little kid, “Fine”. He undid the cloth around Jimin’s mouth and cries came out like a waterfall.

“It-it- was an ac-accident. I di-didn’t k-kn-know”.

“Shut up” Yoongi growled, holding up the knife to the boy’s neck but he faltered a bit; the blade never quite reached the boy’s flesh. Namjoon subconsciously took a step closer; he had never seen Yoongi hesitate before, even with his own parents.

“Hyung, are you okay?”

“Yeah, could you leave us?” he replied. Namjoon nodded even though the other man couldn’t see him. He walked back towards the door, stopping at the last second, wondering if he should really leave.

“Are you sure you don’t want me here, hyung?”

“Yeah, I’m sure” came the answer, “close the door behind you”.

And Namjoon did just that.