#also the way hongjoong is just so in tune with mc and aware of her emotions and body language

[moonlight-hwa]

This part absolutely destroyed me🥲

Halloween 🍂 k.hj (m)

based on Halloween by phoebe bridgers

🍂 pairing ⇢ roommate! Hongjoong x medical student! (fem) reader

🍂 summary ⇢ life is the same, no matter a holiday. You wake up, hear the sirens from the hospital down the street, go to work, and come back home to your beautiful roommate, Hongjoong. It’s an endless cycle, but this Halloween, you could be anything—do anything. You decide to give into your infatuation, causing life to take a turn for you both. Happy Halloween, I guess.

🍂genre/au ⇢ Halloween au, roommate au, friends to lovers

🍂 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors dni, mental illness (anxiety attacks), unprotected sex, hongjoong is a literal chef and certified sweetheart, literally the best roommate you could ever have, dreary, sad vibes, hongjoong has a cat, spooky season vibes, mention of death, oral sex (female recieving), best friends that dont know how to express their feelings, halloween party, yunho makes an appearance, hongjoong makes music, roommates to lovers, plz let me know if I missed anything.

🍂word count ⇢ 13.5k

🍂taglist ⇢ @atinywhore@meowmeowminnie @roe-sinning @yeritheloml @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @sanshineeeeee @8tinytings @yukine-smx @jjhmk @yesv01 @halesandy @ch0isa99ie @y00nzin0 @spiderrenjunfics

Halloween. The time to dress up and act like someone you’re not. To have that insatiable feeling to be someone new—to put on a mask. To be absolutely anything you desire…

But the thing is, it’s not just you. You're not the only one feeling this way, and it's ever so apparent on one singular day, when everyone has a chance to hide their flaws behind comical masks or tedious costume designs. It's all out of fun, people say. It's the trend, it's the reason for the occasion. But, out of everything, you are becoming whatever you want—the same way Cinderella became a princess overnight, only to get it taken away from her the minute the hour of the next day struck.

To you, Halloween was your excuse to become a different person. To gain a new strength you never had. To free your mind into an alternate reality and explore those deep feelings you've been keeping away from spilling over the surface.

And this halloween, you were going to find your way out of that dark room you called a mind.

—

You sat in your cozy nook of the townhouse you shared, a mug of steaming coffee next to you while you read. Slow, gentle rain drops fell down the glass of the window, the soft pitter-patter  creating an intimate environment. Your roommate’s cat added to the feeling, as she was curled up in a ball at your feet, dusty fur matching your fluffy socks.

It's finally october—your favorite time of the year, although there was no reason for it other than the tasty coffee flavors and the colorful scenery. Your roommate also adored the season, as it reflected in his peculiar food concoctions and outfit choices. Sometimes you would just sit and watch his eyes sparkle as he would do his favorite things, keeping your admiration in check.

Of course, he was on your mind way more than a roommate should be. Even now, as your eyes move from word to word across the smooth pages, you begin to think of his smile.

It was a Saturday afternoon. Your shift at the hospital ended the night before, three hours later than normal. It's gotten to the point that you would shiver whenever you hear sirens—and you were blessed with not only hearing the sirens at work, but also at home. 

The hospital was only down the street; the closest one on this side of town. You had to keep those intrusive thoughts away, telling yourself someone better be dying just because the sirens are getting out of hand is a bit of a stretch, someone should slap you for thinking that way. In all honesty, you didn't actually mean it. The sounds were just so overwhelming, it felt like death was looming above you no matter where you turned.

Hongjoong hasn't returned from his morning classes yet. Luckily for you, you were doing your hospital internship and didn't have to take a bunch of classes this semester. Although basically living at a hospital isn't exactly any better.

You sighed as you watched the man of the hour walk through the lifeless leaves on the pavement through the window, keeping your heartbeat steady as you admired him. He had headphones on, hiding his cute little ear piercings and pieces of his faded rusty hair.

God, he made you sick.

The crimson door of the townhouse swung open, revealing the man you were just daydreaming about. He stood in the doorway, looking down at his damp, beaten up converse before bending down to untie them. He got impatient, and just pulled them off of his feet, leaving him only in his cute little pumpkin socks.

“y/n, I brought you a croissant,” he called out to you, not realizing you were only a glance away. He set his bag down on the table and took off his headphones, shaking his head to fix his hair. “You better get over here before I eat it.”

“Is it chocolate filled?” you asked him quietly from your nook, to which he whipped his head to look at you.

The minute he laid his eyes on you, he broke out in a huge smile, his gums showing. “Well, yeah. That's your favorite.”

You stared at him intently, setting down your book on your lap and sitting up a bit. This caused the kitty to meow, which had an immediate effect on your roommate.

His eyes widened. “Oh!” he gasped, running over to the cat to pay attention to her. “Look, baby, we’re twins,” he pointed to his pumpkin socks, smiling proudly. You knew that he only got those socks because of the pumpkins—and because his cat was named pumpkin. “My sweet little pumpkin.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” you scoffed, sliding out of your blanket and setting the book down. You made your way over to the table, which was where he set the croissant bag. “Anyway, thank you, joong.”

He looked over at you and smiled as a response, but it wasn't enough. You wanted him to come over to you and hold you tight, kiss you on the forehead, and let his soft breaths hit you as he would breathe for you.

Now, you weren't always like this. He’s been your roommate since freshman year, all the way back when you used to live on campus. You’ve been in three different living situations with him, but for some reason, living alone with him in a townhouse with a cat and a cute garden in the back just made your mind live in delululand. Dear god, you felt like a married couple at times, as he would spare no second to cook you dinner or help you with your laundry. 

There was just something about him that was so domestic—the same thing you craved every chance you got. But yet, here you were, still daydreaming about it all and never getting it to happen.

And you know exactly when it started. On that halloween, three years ago, when he held you tight in his embrace after finding out your grandmother had passed. It was one of the worst panic attacks in your history. He takes care of you when they happen now, but back then, it was all new to him.

It wasn't supposed to be the type of moment you think about how his hair smelled, or the way his dainty hands caressed the tears away. It wasn't supposed to play out that way. But yet, it did, and you were still stuck with the feelings years later.

Halloween is less than a month away now—this year, it was a chance for you to hide away, or show your true colors.

— —

It was midnight and cold and all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball in your bed. Being in the emergency room was even harder than you imagined, and you knew you had a night of tossing and turning ahead of you. Luckily tomorrow was a rest day, and you would be back on campus for a seminar. You needed a break from the hustle and bustle of life versus death, and you started to think that maybe you just weren't cut out for it. It was far too late for your indecisiveness to kick in, as it seemed to jump up and surprise you every now and again. Hey! This isn't what you want to do, right? What about this? Ah, no, that's not what I want….

A never ending cycle of your life. Wake up, think about hongjoong. Drink coffee made by hongjoong. Have your shoes tied by hongjoong. Go to work and nearly die. Come home from your commute and see hongjoong. Hongjoong makes food for you. Hongjoong smiles for you. Hongjoong…..

Hongjoong, Hongjoong, Hongjoong……

He’s everywhere; Is everything. You know you wouldn't survive without the helpful, caring hands of the man you called a roommate, but you also don't know what will happen when you graduate and part ways. Knowing that he has no mental ties to you quite in the way you have him tied around every morsel of your psyche, it nearly breaks your heart just thinking about it.

Would you crumble right there? Like an old painting or a sculpture, would you cave in without that constant attention? That constant affection for just your existence?

Giving up on your existential thoughts for the night, you slowly glided up the few steps of the brick townhouse, nearly tripping on the last step. You've already done that one too many times, as there is a permanent mark left on your favorite pair of shoes.

Finally opening the door, you entered your humble abode with a grimace, chucking off your shoes to reach the kitchen table. You sat down grumpily, putting your elbows up onto the table when the sweet smell of baking filled your senses.

“Joong? Whatcha makin?” you playfully spoke. He was leaning against the counter across from you, his arms crossed and his eyebrow raised.

“What does it smell like?” he asked you.

You shrugged, breaking your stare to rest your head on the cold table. “I guess like cookies.”

Joong took a second to respond to you, and ran a hand through his rusty hair. It used to be a vibrant red—just like the leaves of the trees. 

“Are you feeling alright?” he spoke softly, moving from his distant position to come a little closer, now leaning against the table. His arms held him up, and from your line of vision, you were able to see a few of his fingertips painted black. “Was it a bad day at the hospital?”

Sirens bellowed loudly from the street, as if on cue of the topic. You groaned and nodded. “God, yeah. There was so much….death. I mean, I thought I knew it was going to be bad but I never thought it was this bad.”

Hongjoong sighed, backing up to get the cookies out of the oven. “I have a question,” he said, his voice strained as he reached into the heat. 

“Shoot.”

He set the tray down onto the stove, turning off the oven. 

“Are you happy?”

His words made you raise your head, meeting his worry-filled gaze. You always hated the way he looked at you, it wasn't in the way you wanted. He always seemed so worried—like he was pitying you. He knew your whole life story, from how you were only raised by a grandmother that lived her life for you, to how you deal with the anxiety that breaks through you like a sickness. It hinders you to the point where you hide it from others, but joong—he knows everything.

You smiled at him, hiding your true colors because he always seemed to break down your walls. In truth, you were feeling anxiety all day—maybe it was the woman who reminded you of your grandmother today. The same woman you witnessed flatline with her granddaughter gripping her pale hand. You watched the young girl’s tears smack onto the linoleum, your heart aching and letting your own tears well up.

Your grandmother was all you had. Your parents passed away in a car accident together, the world taking them both away from you in the same night. You witnessed it from the backseat, the cracks of the windshield and the dark, pooling blood you wished wasn't your parents. It was some sort of miracle that you survived unscathed, but in your sweet grandmother’s words, you were an angel.

You didn't believe in any of that religious shit now, but maybe it was due to all your ups and downs. You didn't need to have some godly figure in your life to know that you were damned no matter what. So you lived your life in fits of anxiety and happiness, all swarming around you. Your anxiety made you believe that you didn't deserve that happiness, and the happiness made you believe you didn't deserve the anxiety.

And hongjoong? He was your happiness.

You sighed, remembering that he asked you a question long before your mind started wandering. You smiled, a real smile, right at him. “Yes, if you're here with me, I'm happy.”

He scoffed playfully, still directly across from you. The only thing in your way was the kitchen table, creating some sort of barrier with your feelings. You could just…walk around it and enter his world, touch his face, run your hands through his hair…

“Well I’m just checking up on my y/n,” he smiled, that beautiful smile of his. He pushed up his sleeves, and turned away from you to pick up a cookie off the tray. “Come here.”

You obeyed like a well-trained dog, making your way past that invisible barrier. He stood close to you, his eyes bright and sparkling as he looked down at you. “Open,” he said, and once again, you obeyed like you owed him your life. 

You opened your mouth for him to give you a bite, his fingertips gliding against the corners of your mouth. You ate the cookie from his hold happily, and when he was going to pull away after it was gone, you suddenly gripped his wrist with your hand.

“What are you—”

“Shh. there's still some chocolate on your fingers,” you teased, looking into his eyes as you licked the tip of his fingers, trying your best to distract your horrible thoughts. Now your focus has moved to tease him, hoping to get a reaction out of him.

Your lips moved down onto his fingers, sucking on them until the taste of chocolate was dull. You shut your eyes, not able to see the look of lust radiating from hongjoong’s glare. It disappeared the moment you met his eyes again, and he let out a chuckle as you pulled back.

“You really like chocolate, huh?” he carried on, his eyes moving back and forth from your eyes to your hand gripping his wrist. His vision was hazy as he pulled out of your grip, moving to distract himself with something—anything. “I thought you preferred my gingerbread cookies?”

You nodded, looking at him up and down. “Yeah, but only around christmas time.”

“Ah,” he gulped, reaching for the small towel that was hanging from the oven door. He wiped his hands hastily, moving away from you towards his little study–converted into a studio. “I gotta go finish my song, alright? Why don't you eat more of the cookies?”

He shut the door of his studio room with aggression, leaving you in a warm, chocolatey kitchen with flour all over the floor. You smiled down at it, making you think about him spilling it and cursing like a sailor. 

You loved him.

—

The week flew by, it was now mid-october. Your favorite season was slowly fading away with a blink of an eye, and you spent most of your autumn days cooped up in the emergency ward or your room, hiding from the sirens. Maybe this isn't for you, but once again—

You were too far in to quit, now. You loved it, you really did. You had that feeling–that ability—to save someone's life the way your parents’ lives could have been spared. You were doing a good thing, you couldn't handle the anxiety for the expense of someone's life.

You found yourself curled up in your cozy blanket in the corner of the couch, hongjoong sitting on the other side. He stared at you—watched your movements. He noticed everything about you, and knew when you were about to have an attack. 

“y/n? Why don't you put on your favorite show?” he asked you, but it was more of a demand. When you stared at him blankly from your curled over position, he sighed and stood up to grab the remote from the coffee table. After turning on some cartoons that you loved, he left the room to grab a glass of water.

When he came back, you were sitting up straight, staring off toward the window, looking at how the raindrops fell. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Just a desperate breath for air. You fisted the blanket in your hands, holding back your shakes. 

Hongjoong sat the cup of water down quickly, making his way over to you with a rush. He sat down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. “Come on, angel. It's okay, I promise,” his voice echoed through your mind, your breathing getting unsteady and your hands twitching in your grip for them to stop. The feeling overwhelmed you—it was as if you were dying. His touch only helped a little in the heat of the moment, and he held you tightly as your body shaked.

You gasped for air, the tears of fear rolling down your cheeks. No matter how many times you go through these attacks, each time makes you feel like you wont make it through it. Hongjoong’s facial expression looked pained as he reached for your hands under the blanket, gripping them in his own so you weren't cutting crescents into your palms.

“Let's play the letter game, okay?” his head was still buried in your neck, his voice strong. “An animal. Okay? An animal that starts with A?”

You gulped, tearing into the skin of his hand with your nails. “A…animal?”

He chuckled, nodding. “Yes angel, an animal. What animal starts with the letter A?”

“Uh,” you breathed, the tears now staining his shirt. “A-ant eater?”

He pulled away from your neck, his free hand running down your cheek to catch the tears. “Good job. B?”

You took a second, panicking when you couldn't think of something. Hongjoong ran a hand through your hair as you shook, holding onto you tightly. “It's okay, I'll help you. Bear? Buffalo? You like buffalo sauce, right? You like the spice.”

You nodded, smiling at his efforts. He did this with such love in his eyes that you could have sworn he was in love with you. That he cared for you this deeply.

He smiled, brightening up your heart. “Good, good. Now C?”

“Cat.” 

“Wonderful,” he cooed, running a hand down your arm. He carried on through the alphabet, until he reached H.

“Hongjoong,” you smiled, finally feeling a bit more like yourself and not some mummy locked in its own body.

He laughed melodically, causing your smile to brighten even more. “I’m not an animal,” he teased, pulling you to his chest and running a hand down your back. “Are you feeling better?”

You nodded, your hand tremors dying down. Hongjoong didn't let go of your hand yet, still holding onto you as tight as he could.

“I just want to take it all away,” he whispered softly, his lips near your ear. Little did he know that he did take the pain away. He was the source of your happiness—you needed him.

“You do,” you hummed back raspily, your heart on your sleeve as he kept you close to him. “You do take the pain away.”

He sighed, kissing your temple with such softness, you crumbled in his hold. 

“I don't think it's enough.”

You didn't say anything after that. He did let go of you reluctantly after you said you needed the water, but the minute you finished drinking it, he was back to holding you, his head against yours as silence enveloped you both in the darkness of the room.

You were certain friends don't kiss each other like that.

—

The next week of October came—the week before halloween.  This time, you felt better than last week. The constant presence of dressing up as something this year was heavy on your chest, knowing your colleagues have invited you to a party. You have yet to ask hongjoong to join you, as you wouldn't dare show your face alone. 

You took a day off on the first day of the week, hongjoong sick as a dog and your heart aching for him.

You brewed some hot tea and fixed him up a bowl of his favorite soup, caring for him the same way he catered to you. The thing was that he denied it most of the time, leaving you standing alone with your heart in your hands, ready to give it to him.

You set the bowl of soup on a tray you normally used as decor, spilling it slightly that the wood of the tray darkened. You rolled your eyes at your clumsiness, and then set the mug of tea on the stained wood.

Making your way up the thin, creaky townhouse stairs, you reached his room at the end of the hallway. He left the door open a crack, inviting you in at any given moment. So you entered the sunlit room, his curtains pulled back and his head hidden under the duvet. All you could see of him was his little wave of orange hair and a foot peeking from the cover.

“Joongie,” you cooed, cautiously entering his abode with nervousness. You knew him for ages, took care of him for ages, but everytime you got close to him, you felt your chest get heavy. Almost as if something was pushing you down. “Are you awake?”

He groaned something inaudible, tossing around in the bed until half of his body was out of the covers. He was shirtless, his smooth, slightly toned stomach glistening with sweat. You sighed, collecting your dirty thoughts.

You set the tray down on his nightstand, pushing aside the cough medicine and dirty tissues you would clean up after. Little pumpkin was sitting at the foot of the bed, watching your every move. 

“I have dinner for you,” you hummed, reaching over to him, but pausing at his unclothed body. It was as if you were a feral animal—you wanted to devour him.

You ignored the instinct and pulled up the covers.

“What is it? I’m not hungry,” he groaned groggily, his eyes barely opening. He let out a cough, and it made you want to take his sickness away. 

“You need to eat, you haven't eaten all day.”

He sighed, pushing himself up on the bed, revealing his body after you concealed it. He leaned up against his headboard, sniffling. His eyes were sunken in and his lips were pale, but you still thought he was the most beautiful being in the world.

You wanted to kiss away his chapped lips.

“Soup?” he said raspily, looking over at his night stand. He went to reach for it, but nearly spilled the tray.

You grabbed the bowl, and went to sit on the edge of the bed, next to his sweating frame. He definitely still had a fever. “Here, take it while I take your temp.”

He grabbed the soup out of your hold, his warm fingers brushing against yours. He didn't hesitate when you leaned over him, but you heard his breaths get shallow when you brushed away the hairs off his face to place your hand on his forehead.  “Stay away from me,” he blinked at you, and even though his words seemed harsh, it was all out of love. “You’ll get sick. I don't want you to get sick.”

“I’d rather be sick than watch you suffer,” you smiled at him, your eyes lingering on his chapped lips for a moment too long. “You look better than you did this morning.”

He swallowed a spoonful of the soup, shutting his eyes tight as the warm liquid coated his sore throat. 

“Thank you,” he said. It was only an acknowledgement in words, but his eyes pierced through yours as you sat inches away from him. He meant it, but you were too involved to read between the lines of his breaths.

He breathed for you.

You stood up to leave him peace, but your breath hitched as his warm hand reached your thigh, causing you to look down at it cautiously. 

“Don't—” he paused, lifting his grip and moving to set down the bowl of soup. “Don't go.”

You didn't let the smile creep up onto your lips. “I thought you didn't want me to get sick?” you instigated, but nonetheless moved further onto the bed, holding onto his overheating frame with all the love in the world. 

“I don't, but I want to be selfish today,” he coughed, nuzzling his head into you. His lips were pressed to your neck, sending chills down your spine. Your fingertips caressed his bare skin, hoping to take away his sickness. 

You held him until the sun went down, thinking that was enough for him.

Feeling as though he was sleeping, you tried to pull yourself out of his grip, to which he pulled you to him even tighter. Now your faces were an inch apart as you both lied on the bed, his hot breaths tickling your lips.

“Where are you going?” he asked you.

“Nowhere,” you smiled, looking into his tired eyes. You leaned forward, resting your head against his. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed in contentment, letting out a breath as his arms tightened around you. He didn't speak—he just looked at you with hearts in his eyes. 

“Don't leave me,” he whispered.

You ran a hand through his messy hair. “I won't, I won't.”

He fell asleep in your arms, all while your mind kept you up the whole night. You knew this isn't what normal friends do—but this is how you were together, which was normal for you.

You got sick the day after.

—

On the third day of the week before halloween, you both were finally feeling better. He seemed back to normal, but you still had a slight sore throat that made you not want to eat. Hongjoong insisted the same way you made him eat the soup, and he cooked up your favorite pasta meal.

“You need to eat,” he muttered, using tongs to place a scoop of pasta onto a plate. You sat across from him at the table, your head in your hands.

“I have a splitting headache,” you groaned, lifting your head up to catch the glimmer in hongjoong's caring glance.

He handed you the full plate, your nose filled with the delicious scent. “I’ll get you some medicine.”

“I’m fine, joongie,” you mumbled with a rasp, twirling your pasta around in your fork, but not lifting it up into your mouth. You stared at the thin noodles that dangled from the metal, distracted as the sauce splattered onto the plate. Hongjoong watched you, an eyebrow raised and his lip curled up.

He sat down across from you. “I uh…is there a hair in it or something?” he asked you, but a joking smile dawned on his face. “If there is, still eat it. I won't do take-backs.”

“Awe, how kind,” you chuckled, finally lifting the fork up to eat the delicious pasta. You closed your eyes as the taste filled your senses, opening them to see the look Hongjoong was giving you.

“You look pretty today,” he acknowledged, his eyes dancing around your features. He blinked at you, waiting for you to brush it off.

Boom boom.

Your heart picked up its pace. “Don't lie, joong. It doesn't suit you.”

He rolled his eyes, resting his head in his hands as he stared at you. Your phone buzzed with a text message from your work friend, which reminded you about something that happened earlier during the day.

“Oh,” you muttered with a mouthful of food. “Some guy asked for my number today,” you took another bite.

Hongjoong tilted his head at you, and then moved his gaze to his own plate of food, grabbing his fork to stab the noodles. “Oh really?”

You nodded, swallowing the food as he glared down at his own. “Yeah. he was cute. What was his name….uh, yun..yunho? Super tall, let me tell you. It was like staring up at a skyscraper—”

Hongjoong interrupted you with a loud scoff, accidentally screeching his fork against the plate. “Did you give him your number, though?” he asked you, acting as if you didn't.

You studied him for a moment, feeling confused. He seemed to care more than he should. You honestly gave the cute skyscraper your number, but you didn't have a thought in your mind about actually texting him back. 

You shrugged, playing with him a little bit. “Yeah, I did,” is all you said, smiling to yourself. You were sure hongjoong thought you were smiling about yunho, when in reality you were smiling for him. “He was too cute to reject.”

At that, Hongjoong’s fork clanked onto the plate, causing you to jump and look at him. He looked mad—too mad. You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling like you hit a nerve.

“Joong? What's wrong?”

He laughed devilishly, his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly open. “So what? Are you gonna go on a date with him or something?”

You knew you were pushing his buttons a little too far, but you furrowed your brows at his unusual behavior.

You leaned forward, setting your own fork down. “Hey,” you narrowed your gaze while he practically had smoke coming out of his ears. “Are you jealous? Should I not date him?”

He blinked at you, and looked down at your lips for a second.

 “No.” is all he said.

“He seems like a good fuck. Should just fuck him silly instead and—”

“y/n I swear to god,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair aggressively. “I, uh. Fuck,” he hissed, unable to look at you. “Thanks for the image.”

You frowned jokingly. “Ah, I see. You were visualizing me getting fucked?” you smirked, knowing you were taking it way too far. “Do you want to watch? Or join?”

You reached your  arm out, sensually touching his fisted hand. You ran your fingertips in circles around his hand, a smirk on your lips. 

He pulled back and stood up abruptly, causing the chair to squeak against the floor. “I-i have to go—I mean, I have a song to write…I uh…” he coughed, glancing at you for one minute and then storming out of the room, leaving you all alone with cold pasta and a frown on your face.

He didn't show his face to you that whole night.

—

Two days later; it was a friday. You had to go to campus early in the morning to listen to a required lecture, which ended up by you sitting next to hongjoong on the commuter bus.

He sat stiffly, his knee bumping into yours occasionally whenever the bus hit a pothole. You couldn't lie, you wanted him to stay touching you.

Ever since two nights ago when you brought up fucking someone and having him watch, he acted distant with you. You felt bad, hoping you didn't make him too uncomfortable with an image he probably never wanted to see in the first place.

Joong leaned against the cold bus window, looking out at the leaves that matched his hair. In his ears sat wired earbuds, attached to the jack of his phone. You leaned your shoulder into him, looking down at his hands in his lap.

No words were spoken. He lifted his head to look over at you, and after a moment, he sighed, and handed you the earbud closest to you. 

“Here,” he hummed, barely audible. 

You took it wordlessly, putting it in your ear to hear the soft strum of a guitar. You didn't recognize the song, but you felt the emotion fill through the little speaker, breaking through your heart. You always loved how he would share his favorite things with you, even if he was upset with you.

“I’m sorry, joongie,” you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn't say anything; maybe he was waiting for you to continue. “I shouldn't have said those things the other day.”

He mumbled something you couldn't decipher, but then nodded shortly. “It's not something to apologize for. I’m sorry I ignored you the whole night.”

You looked at his hands. He was rubbing his knuckles anxiously, so you reached out to hold them. He jumped slightly, and you gave him a side eye. 

He eventually settled with your hands on top of his, and your head against his shoulder. You listened to his whole playlist—and his heartbeat—until you had to leave.

—

The same night, you brought up the halloween party.

“I need you to come with me,” you said, your eyes pleading.

He sat next to you on the couch, pumpkin sleeping adorably in his criss-crossed lap. “Why don't you take the skyscraper?” he said blatantly, his expression unreadable. He held a bottle of soju in one of his hands and had the tv remote in the other.

Was he actually jealous? At this point, he hasn't been himself since you told him about Yunho, who you didn't even know his last name. 

You looked over at him, as he was paying strict attention to finding a movie. You began to overthink like you always do, convincing yourself that Hongjoong doesn't want anything to do with you. 

“Do you still want to be friends with me?” you ignored his question about yunho, now feeling a bit unstable.

He noticed the shake in your voice, and sat up straight. He finally looked over at you, his eyes softening. 

“y/n,” he sighed, setting the remote down. “Of course I do. Don't worry about me leaving you.”

Your gaze shot right through him. “But…you just seem off. Ever since I joked about….you know,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “It's something you probably had no intention of visualizing, so I feel bad—”

“No, uh,” he gulped, looking anywhere but you. “It wasn't that…”

You raised your eyebrows. “Huh? Really? What was it then?”

He looked deep in thought—and a little nervous. You wanted the words that came out of his mouth to be a love confession, something straight out of a movie. You knew it wasn't going to turn out that way, but you couldn't stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

“I just,” he paused, afraid to look over at you. “I just worry about you. I want the best for you.”

Ouch, that wasn't a confession.

Come on, hongjoong. How hard is it to say, “Oh, y/n, I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I met you?”

You hid your dissatisfaction with a smile. “I can hold my own, joongie. I may be the most anxious person alive, but I can still meet guys.”

“I know you're capable, it's not you,” he admitted, looking a bit embarrassed as he shook the bottle of soju. “It's them. The guys. You deserve the world and I don't know what I would do if a guy took it all away.”

You sat and stared as he finally picked a movie—the nightmare before christmas. It wasn't your favorite, but something about it reminded you of Hongjoong. After it started playing, he tossed the remote onto the coffee table.

“I appreciate that you care,” you told him softly, looking down at your hands in your lap. “But you don't have to worry about guys.”

You sat in silence for a little, your heartbeat finally slowing down. He scooted closer and closer to you until pumpkin jumped out of his lap angrily. He saw that as an excuse to stand up and finally plop down next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. 

“You’re special to me, y/n,” is all he said as he rested his head on your shoulder, cuddling up to you under the warm, cozy blanket.

—

Tonight was the party. You were rooting through your closet, tossing things at hongjoong, who sat on your bed among the pile of clothes.

“We're being pirates, right? I’m sorry, but I doubt you have pirate shit in that closet of yours.” He teased, lifting up a shirt from the pile to fold it. 

Maybe you should have planned this better.

“I have to have my corset in here somewhere,” you ignored him, knowing you were just going to toss on a slutty ass dress and put the corset on over it. “Hongjoong come here, will you?”

You heard him let out an ungodly sigh as he stomped over to you, kneeling right next to you.  “What am I supposed to wear?”

“Hongjoong you literally have every possible article of clothing in your closet.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Shush.”

He stayed quiet then, and after a moment, he started to root with you. After a bunch of irritated sighs and groans, hongjoong found your corset. 

“This?” he raised an eyebrow playfully. You reached out to grab it, only for him to stand up and back away from you. “Come and get it.”

“We don't have time for this, joong,” you groaned, but still stood up and followed him. He was cackling as you tried to jump for it, standing on his tip-toes as if he thought of himself as a giant. You moved forward, lunging at him with full force, which sent you tumbling down onto the smooth comforter of your bed.

You landed on top of him, his warmth radiating through you. Your hips met his hips, and something stirred inside of you. His lips were inches from yours, his hands over his head and his eyes wide.

You felt more of him than you should, but you didn't want to move. You wanted to invade his space forever—if it were a job, you’d  be a professional.

He didn't say anything—he looked up through the sea of your hair, his gaze resting on your lips. He frowned, and you wondered what he was thinking.

You wanted to reach out to him. To hold him right here, forever. You wanted him to be yours and only yours.

You studied the shapes of his face, similar to how an artist evaluates their subject. He had to be sculpted by a god or something, with the way his lips curve just right, and with the compelling wonder that swirled in his eyes.

Before it got too weird, you pushed yourself up despite the ache to become one with him, and you ripped the corset out of his hands. “Thanks,” you coughed, and he still didn't move from his position on the bed.

He stared up at the ceiling—the ceiling you decorated with those tacky glow in the dark stars. The room was dimly lit from the warm-toned lamp that sat on your dresser, right next to your pile of anatomy textbooks.

You both listened to silence for a while, Hongjoong now sitting up after a few long moments. You found the dress you wanted to wear, and gave him a look.

“I’m gonna change, so if you want to see every part of me, you're welcome to stay.” you muttered, your fingertips on the waistband of your leggings. He looked at your hands, his eyes growing darker.

He raked his eyes all over your clothed body. You wondered about what he was thinking—did he want to rip the clothes off of you? Did he want to stay and watch?

Your curiosity ended when he stood up slowly. “Come help me with my outfit then. After you change, of course.”

A small fraction of your heart caved in as the door shut behind him, but the ache for him remained standing.

You slid off your clothes, wishing your hands were his.

—

You waltzed into the party, which was at your colleague, yeosang’s place. He was born with old money, and it showed through the exquisite taste of his home. He was nowhere to be found though—which was normal. He wasn't exactly sociable. The one who took it by the wheel was his best friend wooyoung, who seemed like he would embody a party.

“I didn't pregame enough,” Hongjoong gulped as he stared at the strangers around the home, some guzzling alcohol from bongs and others simply conversing with each other. On the other hand, there were a bunch of people blowing big puffs of hazy marijuana smoke, and others snorting shit that you never touched before.

Joong shivered. “Aren't you guys like…medical students?” He raised an eyebrow, his one eye covered with an eye patch and his other one wide. “You have to know that snorting cocaine is not beneficial to your health.”

You slapped his shoulder, feeling out of this world already. Maybe you shouldn't have slammed those shots. “Whatever. Lets go get fucked up so i don't have to remember this tomorrow,” you wrapped your arm in his, pulling him into the grand kitchen that had a chandelier dangling from the vaulted ceiling.

“I think you’re blown out enough, to be honest.”

You reached in the cooler to grab a bottle of some sort of alcohol you didn't recognize. “I’m guessing this shit is like millions of dollars,” you shrugged, handing it off to the pirate you called hongjoong. 

He looked fine as hell in his own corset, brown leather wrapping around that thin waist of his. He had on a half-unbuttoned white button down, pulled up at the elbows. His pants were tight, leaving your mind wandering back to earlier when your hips bucked against his. His rusty hair was hidden under a bandana that matched your dress, with flakes of greens and dustings of gold.

“y/n? Hello?” he snapped his fingers in front of your face, his one eye piercing into yours. “You zoned out for a minute.”

“Ah, oh sorry,” you sighed, looking down at your own outfit. Your dress was flowy, but only reached about mid-thigh, showing leg and tits at the same time. Your legs were covered in fishnets, and you noticed many partygoers staring at them. 

You reached into the cooler to grab yourself a drink, guzzling it like water. Hongjoong watched, and then did the same. You both pulled away at the same time, expressions matching like twins as you scrunched your eyebrows.

“Thats strong as fuck,” he hissed, but still drank the rest of the bottle since thats what you were doing. His eyes locked on you as you finished the last drop, and you reached for another. “Yo, slow down. You downed like five shots of vodka earlier.”

You rolled your eyes, finally feeling like yourself. You loved the feeling of being drunk—you felt like you could finally be the person you were under the surface. The person without anxiety. The person who didn't have to hide how to feel.

“You know,” you hummed, setting down the second bottle onto the gold counter. You approached him, your hands finding the collar of his unbuttoned shirt. You watched him swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing—you wanted to lick it. “Did I ever tell you how hot you are?”

Hongjoong’s eyes—eye— widened at your words, and set his hands on your elbows to pull you off of him. “You’re obliterated and we weren't even here for five minutes.”

“I’m not,” you rolled your eyes, pulling out of his grip and grabbing his arms now.

He didn't even get to say what he wanted to say as the skyscraper himself came up to you, bending his head down slightly to see if it was you. 

“y/n?” His tone of voice was smooth and cool, your name rolling off his tongue with ease.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, moving your attention away from hongjoong. “Skyscraper!” 

He laughed, looking from you to hongjoong with a confused glance. “She must be drunk, she’s usually quiet at work,” yunho said to hongjoong, not expecting the glare of death to radiate from his single eye.

“Oh no, she’s loud and obnoxious at home,” Hongjoong growled, reaching out to steady you. 

The tall vampire tilted his head at the pirate, a smirk on those full lips. “Home?” he inquired, looking at you with that same smirk. You glanced up at him with a smile, not purposely ignoring your roommate. You were just a teensy bit drunk—call it tipsy—and you were fascinated with the red contacts in Yunho's eyes.

“Did you change your eye color?” you asked him in all seriousness, looking over at the cooler filled with alcohol with longingness. Hongjoong scoffed at your words, and couldn't stop you as you reached out to touch Yunho's face, which remained in a smirk as your fingertips brushed against his skin. “Even your skin is sparkly.”

“You never answered me,” he hummed lowly, hongjoong feeling like the third wheel now. The vampire leaned down towards your face, a lustful smile on his lips. “About that date?”

Hongjoong had enough. He muttered a goodbye, but you weren't able to hear it.

“Hmmm…” you clicked your tongue, tapping your chin slowly. “I’m sorry, count dracula. I have someone in my heart already,” you proudly proclaimed.

He smiled despite the rejection, his white teeth bright under the dim lighting. “I’m guessing it’s that one-eyed pirate, hm?” he asked, but he knew the answer.

“Yep. even though he’s a little bitch sometimes,” you bowed to him then, lifting your gaze to meet his red eyes. “Sorry again.”

He nodded with a smirk. “Well your pirate just ran off somewhere, so you better go find him before he thinks something different.”

You might have been a bit out of it, but you knew enough that yunho was a good sport. He walked away before you could say anything else, leaving you all alone in a sea of people. You recognized some faces, like wooyoung and some guy named yeonjun from the general surgery department who hit on you during a surgical lesson. You surveyed the scene, meeting eyes with some random men who kept looking even when you moved your gaze.

You grabbed another drink from the cooler, flipping the cap off and dumping its contents into your mouth. After the rush of warmth hit your body, you pushed through the bodies of people in search of your person.

“Anyone see another pirate?” you yelled to no one in particular. “He has orange hair and a pretty face. Has one eye and—Oh, he’s kinda short too. Like a little leprechaun.” 

Now you were just blabbing into nothingness as your vision split. You know damn well your alcohol tolerance was scarily low, but you still got yourself fucked up to the point of no coming back.

You weren't sure where you were going, but you found yourself outside now, behind the extravagant mansion. You stood on the patio, shivering from the lack of clothing and cool autumn air.

You looked out towards the yard, intricately covered in plants and flowers. If you were sober, you’d call it a garden. For now, it was just a pile of vegetation.

“Joongie! You yelled loudly, as if he was going to suddenly fly out of the bushes to greet you. There was no one around—not even a bug. “Joong? Pirate king? Captain—”

“You’re too loud,” his sweet voice filled your eardrums, but it sounded dull—like he was irritated. “Why don't you go entertain that vampire?”

“Because…” you drawled out, turning towards him in the ocean of flowers. You stood in the middle of a surreal garden, but it was too dark to see the colors. There was a small lamppost above you, only coloring a quarter of the flowers in your view. “Because I want my pirate.”

His eye studied you for a moment, and then he sighed, leaning up against the post. “Y/n, I—”

“Shh,” you whispered, drunkenly leaning up against him, unable to tear your drunken eyes from his lips. “You have something on your lip,” you hummed, the pads of your fingers brushing against his soft lips. There was nothing there; you just wanted to touch them.

“ah-ah-Okay, I think you got it—”

“ —I want to kiss you,” you whined, crushing your head against his chest. You heard his heart race as you touched him. “I want to kiss you so bad.”

He stiffened underneath you, his arms at his sides as you held onto him. “You're drunk.”

“I know, but I want to kiss you even when I’m sober,” you lifted your head up, frowning when you only saw one eye. You brushed your fingers against the soft skin of his face, gripping onto the eye-patch softly. “And I want to see your pretty eyes.”

He kept quiet and still, letting you lift the eye-patch over his head, your hazy gaze meeting his starstruck one. Your hand didn't leave his face even after the patch was gone, and he just stood there with all the love in the world in his gaze.

You leaned forward, slowly, carefully, and met your lips with his. You gripped his shirt, your knuckles turning white and your eyes shut tight. He finally snaked an arm around your waist, parting your mouth open with his own. He kissed you hungrily, as if he couldn't hold back even if he wanted to. It felt like ecstasy, two worlds colliding. You now felt like you could tell the colors of the flowers—you felt like you could do anything.

And once he gripped the back of your head to deepen the kiss, you woke up drenched in more than sweat, your clothes missing and your hair like a halo around your head.

What the fuck?

—

Was it all a dream? Did you even go to that party? Did you…did you even get to kiss Hongjoong?

You looked under the covers to see the same underwear you put on before the party—paired with the matching bra. You felt drenched to your core, dreaming about something—

“You're awake,” hongjoong gave you a weird glance as he walked into your room to toss you a hoodie of his. “Put this on.”

“Where are my clothes?” you asked with an eyebrow raised. “Did we…”

He stopped in his tracks, looking at you like a deer in headlights. “Did we what? Fuck?” he scoffed, turning away to walk out of your room. “No. and I took your clothes off because you threw up all over them.”

“So, did we actually go to the party?” you barely spoke, gripping the blanket tightly in your hands. “I had this weird dream…”

He swallowed hard and nodded, turning back to you but not meeting your eyes. “Yeah, we went.”

So you blacked out? Or was your dream possibly real?

He left the room then, leaving you all alone in a mess of yourself—and your thoughts.

After a bit of time wallowing in your own self-pity, you managed to leave your comfortable hiding spot you called a room to go downstairs, where hongjoong had a bowl of hangover soup ready for you on the table. He was nowhere to be seen, though, so you assumed he was out doing something or in his little makeshift studio.

Telling yourself it was all a dream so you wouldn't get your hopes up, you plopped down onto the chair to eat. You stared down at the soup, swirling it around with the spoon like you’ve never seen it before, your mind everywhere else but the idea of eating.

Eventually you raised the spoon to your mouth, but the thoughts of hongjoong didn't subside. He was the reason you wanted to keep on living in this god-forsaken world, and you couldn't risk the possibility of ruining your friendship. You decided to not speak of your dream, or even express your feelings, for the sake of keeping him by your side.

After you finished your breakfast, you tip-toed through the creaky floors to peek and see if Joong was in his hideout. As soon as you saw the rush of orange hair, you smiled, and left him alone. Pumpkin was staring at you through the glass window, lying comfortably on the plush carpet he had. 

You walked away then, tossing on your jacket and a pair of shoes, and made your way to the convenience store around the corner. You didn't want to interrupt Hongjoong’s focus just to tell him that you wanted some banana milk.

You left him in peace, not knowing that he was going to worry about where you went.

—

You walked slowly towards your townhouse, watching the leaves land on the sidewalk. Some leaves even left imprints on the pavement, greenish-hues as the remnant of when they once lived. 

Halloween was right around the corner. The party was over. You kissed the love of your life—in a dream, of course. It seemed like the world was moving so fast, as if you had no time to hold on as it moved.

You swung the door open, finding hongjoong in panic mode, his hand in his hair and the other one gripping his phone. 

Your eyes widened. “Joong?” you tilted your head, slipping off your shoes before moving further. “Everything alright?”

He let out a sigh of relief, dropping his hands to his sides. “I didn't know where you went. You didn't answer your phone.”

You frowned, patting the pockets of your hoodie—hongjoongs hoodie. “Oh? I must've forgotten it.”

He scoffed as you walked past him to reach the fridge. You emptied the bag, putting the banana milk into the fridge and pulling out the cheap, single rose the store had at the register.

“You don't know how worried I was,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes in irritation. “You can't just leave without saying anything, I thought you were kidnapped.”

You chuckled softly, smiling to yourself that he cared. The smile began to drop, though, as you began to think it was only platonic—and that's all it will ever be.

You turned around to face him, a forced smile on your face. “Here,” you said, handing him the nearly-dead red rose that had a slightly bent stem. 

He looked down at the token of affection, confusion washing over his features. “A  r-rose?” he stuttered slightly, eyes meeting yours. “For me?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, taking a step closer to him. 

“Why?” he inquired, his eyes searching yours for any type of answer.

You gathered what you wanted to say, swallowing hard. “Because you're my best friend. I never want to lose our friendship.”

You saw his hesitation then. It was as if you said something hurtful, but all you spoke was the truth. He let out a little laugh, and reached out to grab the decaying flower.

His fingers brushed against yours, sending chills down your spine. The minute your skin made contact with his, you replayed the kiss you shared in dreamland, hoping that if you kept thinking about it, it would come true.

“Ah, Best friend…” he smiled—almost sadly—and inspected the rose. “Thank you.”

You sniffed, feeling like you just ruined something. But there was nothing there to begin with. You nodded, and turned on your heels. 

“I uh, I’m going out then,” he spoke up, his hands feeling the petals. 

You stopped, looking down at your bare feet. “Oh really? Where?”

He paused. “With friends.”

You nodded, but didn't turn around. “Have fun.”

He didn't say anything else, and just let you trudge up the stairs. Your heart felt like it was about to crumble, and without reason. Nothing changed, nothing was broken. You said the truth, he told you he was going out. A typical day in your household.

So why did it feel like your world just ended?

—

Days fly by. Hongjoong ended up coming home the next morning that day, and without a word, he locked himself up in his studio.

It was halloween. You felt like it was pointless now, unable to connect to your hongjoong like you never had a connection in the first place. As if you didn't spend every waking moment together. Birthdays, holidays.

You stood in front of your full length mirror, critiquing every single angle of your body. You knew deep down you were beautiful; some days you just saw everything wrong all at once. You stood there, lost, alone, and still thinking of hongjoong like he was living in your mind. 

And one day, you’ll watch hongjoong leave, causing life to lose all its meaning.

You sighed, pulling your jeans up slightly to button them. You slid a t-shirt over your bra, feeling like you waited for this day for nothing. You felt numb—like the anticipation was worth nothing. You slid on a pair of festive socks, finally getting your bare feet off the cold, wooden floors.

It was still early—not even noon. Usually you’d be at work and joong would be at school, but you were both home, locked away in your rooms, acting like you don't exist. Well, you didn't want it to play out this way—you wanted to run into his arms, tell him you love him, and bury him in kisses in the halloween haze.

You had no plans, despite it being the night of the year for you. The party was over, your heart was aching, and you felt like you could crumble to the ground like an old building. It was just one of those days that you didn't feel like yourself—and what better time than the night you're supposed to be anything but true.

After grabbing a hat to keep your ears warm, you waltzed your way down the hallway, only to cause hongjoong to peek out of his doorway. He looked tired. 

“Where are you going?” he asked you softly, his voice scratching your brain just right.

You didn't realize you were picking at your fingers until he looked down at them. You put your hands at your sides, and looked up at him. “To go get candy for the tick-or-treaters tonight,” you hummed as a response, staring into his gaze, getting lost in it for a moment too long. 

He looked at your outfit, his eyes examining you the same way you looked at yourself—however, he wasn't critiquing. He was admiring. No matter what you wore, he looked at you like you were made of gold.

He nodded, tearing his gaze away from your eyes. “Okay.”

You turned around after it felt too awkward, feeling as though something was ruining your relationship. There was no warmth, no comfort. It all happened after you gave him that rose, holding back your feelings like he held back his tears.

Time passed like the world was spinning too fast, and you went on with your day as if it was any other day. 

When you came back from the store, you poured the candy into a cute little serving bowl, stealing a chocolate bar like you were a kid again. A part of your soul ached as you stared down at the bowl, thinking about the days when you were the one grabbing the handfuls and eating too much candy. Back to the time when life was simple. 

Hongjoong was in his studio, and you heard the dull vibrations of his voice. He was singing like he always did, but this time, you wanted him to sing for you.

You ignored it as best as you could and forced yourself to dress up in a slightly more modest pirate outfit, and after the sun began to set, you found yourself sitting outside on your porch alone. Bundled up in a blanket and a mug of hot tea in your hand, you waited patiently for the kids to come around for the candy.

Sirens blared loudly, an ambulance passing the street in front of you. You watched as the bright reds and whites reflected off the windows of the houses around you, and how the wind from it knocked more leaves to fall to their death. 

You watched them crumble to the ground in front of you, small little feet stepping on them as they walked by your home. One little girl came up to you, her little shoes crunching the decaying life underneath them, and you looked up to her from your seated position. 

“Trick or treat?” she asked you, her face covered in paint and her smile as bright as can be.

“Take a handful,” you murmured, forcing a smile onto your pirate persona. She smiled at you and tossed the candy into her bag, and you were too distracted to hear the door open behind you. The only sign was the brightened look on the girl’s face as she looked behind you.

“Another pirate?” she mumbled, dimples showing through her scarecrow face paint. “Is he your boyfriend?”

You hesitated, but shook your head. “Oh, no. He's just my friend.”

Hongjoong forced out a chuckle, and came up to sit next to you. “Happy Halloween,” he smiled, his leg bumping yours. You didn't shy away, but you didn't move any closer.

As the girl left, you sat in silence with hongjoong for what felt like ages. You smelled alcohol on his breath, wearing his mask like normal. You were dying to know his true feelings about everything. You lived with him for years, but yet, he knew everything about you and you knew very little about him.

A few more kids stopped, grabbed some candy, and left. As if the time flew by once again, the bowl was empty, and so was your heart.

“I have to go use the bathroom,” you let him know as you stood up. He looked from you to the empty bowl, but made no effort to come inside with you. 

“Okay,” he nodded, not looking in your direction. You left his presence, needing some air.

You walked towards the bathroom that was past his studio until you noticed the door open. Pumpkin was sitting on a pile of papers, and knowing how finicky your hongjoong was, you quickly entered the sacred grounds to get the cat off the pile. With your luck, you startled pumpkin, causing her to let out a scared yelp and leap off the pile, knocking over all the sheets at once.

You let out a gasp, followed by a groan, as you quickly tried to pick up the papers. That is, until you came across some lyrics of what it looked like a song…

A  song for a lover?

It was titled, halloween, and as your eyes ran across the words on the page, a few stood out. Words like roommate, coffee, watching movies, hugs, dinner, and home. His home was her. His home was with her, his love was for her.

You were his…home? His love?

“Put that down,” Hongjoong growled behind you, but his tone of voice wasn't harsh—it was defeated. “It’s nothing special.”

“I think otherwise, joong,” you murmured softly, still reading the lyrics as they made your heart race. “Is this about…me?”

He came up beside you, his face right next to yours. He ripped the paper out of your hands and held it behind his back as you turned to him. “Yeah,” he breathed, but shook his head. “But it means nothing now, okay? So don't misunderstand—”

“Can you sing it for me?”

He stared at you, wide eyed. You both were in your pirate garb, his one eye covered by the eye-patch. You thought back to your dream of lifting it up, kissing him, holding onto him….

He didn't say much. He just stared for a while, unsure about your motives. Clearly you made it known that he was just a friend to you, but little did he know that you wanted everything under the sun with him.

He sighed, and sat down onto his bench in front of the keyboard. As his painted fingers slid across the keys, he started to sing to the lyrics that were meant for you. He bled through the words, telling the story of you and him, sharing a space, and putting on masks. It was halloween, the song was called halloween, and he sang with all the love in the world to you.

It had to be a dream. There was no way he was sitting in front of you, tipsy, and proclaiming his years-long love for you through a song. It was unreal, and when he stopped singing and turned to you, you saw the concern drip off his face as he looked at your expression.      

He swallowed hard, standing up to face you. “Listen, don't think much of it. Like I said, it’s worthless now and—”

You gripped the back of his head and kissed him, holding him tightly as he stood stoically. After a few moments, you pulled away, leaving his lips a mess of red from your lipstick. “I–I’m sorry. That was a little—”

He took a step forward, like you were his prey. Gripping your arm, he pulled you to him, his lips on yours with no spare of a glance. Your hands found their home in his hair, gently sliding off his eye patch with your fingers. You kissed each other as if it was your last—as if this would only last the night.

You pulled back, resting your forehead on his as his hot breath kissed your features. 

“I…what does this make us?” you gulped, counting his breaths, happy that he was living at the same time as you. “Its…its halloween…we can be, you know,” you got distracted as his gentle hands caressed your arm. “We can be anything.”

He smiled at you, love dripping from his gaze. He kept his hold tight on you, and mumbled his answer into your head. 

“I’ll be whatever you want,” he breathed into you, and you found yourself melting into his hold.            

His lips, his hands, his breath—everything collided. Two became one once again as he kissed you, kissed you so hard that you lost your breath. Your hands meshed within the rust of his hair, your fingertips painted in orange. His tongue met the roof of your mouth the same way your hands gripped at him, repeating his words over and over in your mind.

Whatever you want…

I’ll be whatever you want…

He lifted you up then, holding onto your body tightly to set you onto his desk, knocking off all his music sheets and crumbled up papers. His finger nails pierced against the bare skin of your thighs, his lips now on your neck as you fiddled with the buttons on his shirt.

He let out a moan as your fingers grazed his chest, finally pulling his shirt off his body to admire him. You let out a content sigh, wanting to taste the soju on his lips. Not yet, though, as his hands gripped the corset you were wearing, untying the laces and ripping it off your body, slightly rough but his touch was smooth.

You sat on his desk, ready for him to claim you as his own. Even if it was just for the night, you weren't thinking long term as his strong arms pulled your dress right over your head, leaving you only in your underwear.

“My god, I always wanted to do that,” he groaned, his lips meeting your neck as his hands trailed down your stomach to meet the waistband of your underwear. As his fingers slipped underneath the fabric, you arched your back into his touch.

“You like that, huh?” he whispered in your ear as you looked down at the bulge of his pants, seizing the opportunity to get him flustered. “You turn me the fuck on, you have no idea, y/n.”

Your hands brushed his erection, a sinister smile on hongjoongs pained face. He smacked his head into yours, his teeth bright white as he showed them.  “Careful, baby. I’ve been waiting years to fuck you. I don't want it to end too quick.”

“Years?” you breathed into his lips your head tilted up as his hand found its home and started to slide the underwear down your hips. 

He didn't answer. What he did do was pull them down your legs, and then as soon as they were off, he kneeled down onto the ground in front of you, treating you like a peasant would treat his goddess. His lips met your heat, the warmth from his breath stirring your mind into mush. You gripped his russet hair, fisting it as his tongue slipped inside you. You hissed, throwing your head back as you saw stars.

He worked magic, his lips becoming something you never wanted to lose. Eventually, he found his place above you, his fingers tilting your head back to look up at him. His hands reached out to pull your bra off, giving you a look of affirmation before gently lifting it over your head. 

He stood in front of you, vulnerability showing through like sunlight through a window. He was your sun—your warmth—your love.

No words were spoken after that. You unbuttoned his pants while he kissed your lips, entangled in each other's love and infatuation. He carried you up the steps then, gently setting you down onto his bed, the creak of the mattress springs underneath you. He kissed your forehead, your nose, your temple, your lips, and trailed all the way to your breasts, admiring them like they were all he dreamed about—you were all he dreamed about.

You looked into his stare, his dark brown eyes above yours. You felt the heat of his body, and every breath he took. You wanted to count his breaths every day for the rest of your life until they stopped. You wanted to entangle yourself into his soul, spinning yourself around his finger like the red string of fate.

You wanted to make love to him every night, crawl into his embrace like he was the only human on earth. He was like a warm fireplace on a cold winter day, the fall of snow during spring. And after all, at this moment as your eyes met before he entered you, his lips moved, your senses heightened as he spoke.

“I love you,” he hummed, his eyes sparkling in the dark. You were his source of light.

After those words, he collapsed into you, his hips meeting yours and your lips meshing together. He didn't give you a chance to respond—maybe he was scared of rejection. He had nothing to worry about, and as he made love to you, you ran your hands through his hair to keep it out of his eyes.

You moaned as he rhythmically crashed into you, his lips parted and his arms tightened. You wrapped your legs around his thin waist, his upper body crashing into yours, forehead to forehead, lips to lips, chest to chest, hearts beating the same beat. His hands found your breasts, grabbing them as if they would break under his touch. He trailed his lips down your neck to your chest, kissing you sensually, tastefully, treating you like a work of art. 

Your vision became hazy as you reached your high, and after he noticed your climax, he smiled to himself, letting out a moan. “Good girl,” he praised, and then flipped you over onto your stomach with a groan. You positioned yourself for him, back arched as his fingertips glided against your skin. His hands ran down your sides, his hips meeting your ass as he gripped it with his hands, entering you once again like it was his home.

“I want this every day,” he pushed into you, his breaths hitting the back of your neck, causing you to tumble onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up from his strength. “Every night. For the rest of my life, I want you.”

You wanted to cry out of happiness. You wanted to turn around and tell him you want it too, that you’ve loved him since that one day he held you. He was all you ever wanted; ever needed.

He fucked you, made love to you, as if it was the last time. His body clashed into yours, letting out the most beautiful moans. He was born to be yours, you were born to be his. Your bodies fit like pieces of a puzzle, and as he reached his ending, you gripped onto the pillow underneath you, crying out as he came into you, him spilling his love for you, through words and actions.

He breathed and breathed and breathed, his body collapsing onto yours, afraid to crush you. He pulled out of you slowly, finding his spot next to you on his bed. Your eyes met, then your lips, and then your love.

“I love you, too,” you smiled at him, your eyes blurry as his beauty took over. His hair was stuck to his forehead from all of his sweat, and you reached out to brush it behind his ears.

He was breathing heavily, staring into your eyes like they were the most beautiful color he’s ever seen. To you, it might be bland. To him—they were the only eyes that mattered. The only window he wanted to look through.

His arms snaked over your naked body, his touch feeling like ecstacy. You fell asleep deeply for the first time in ages, his soft voice humming you to sleep as the moon began to fall.

—

The next morning was just like any other. You woke up alone, no Hongjoong in sight, but the warm, delicious smell of breakfast reminded you that it was all real. You looked down, no clothes, no underwear, just you. The sheets were crumbled all messily, your heart feeling just the same.

You smiled after looking around, noticing little things around his room that just made sense. Everything about him made you feel butterflies.

You made your way down the stairs after tossing on one of hongjoong’s shirts, hoping to stir something up with him. It almost feels unreal with the way you proclaimed your love so quickly, and after all this time of hiding your feelings, it was now all out in the open.

The minute you reached the kitchen, you found hongjoong sitting in the chair next to a plate of food meant for you. He sat with his legs crossed and his eyes on you. His pretty hair was messy, and his lips were curled up in a smirk.

You smiled at him shyly.

“Oh no,” he shook his head at you, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked you up and down, smirking even more as he noticed the shirt that covered your upper body. You decided against pants, only coming out in your underwear and his shirt. “Don't go all shy on me after last night. And not when you look like…this.”

You cautiously walked towards him, and the minute you reached him, he tugged you into his lap, holding you with a look of admiration. 

“About last night—”

“If you're going to say it was a mistake, I will politely decline, angel,” he kissed your lips, lingering just a moment too long. It was blissful, despite your morning breath. “I need you. I can't be without you.”

I need you…

Did anyone need you? Was he the first person to actually want you?

You smiled sadly, but his expression made you feel comfortable. “I was just going to say that I enjoyed it,” you hummed, nodding. He chuckled at that, his arms tightening around your waist.

“I’m sorry I couldn't tell you sooner. About my feelings, I mean,” I babbled on, leaning his head onto you. “I got a little jealous with Yunho, and I couldn't stand the idea of you with someone other than me. And when you kissed me at the party, I got worried that you only made a drunken mistake—”

“Wait,” you raised your eyebrows, pulling back to look at him. “I actually kissed you at the party? I thought I dreamt that…” you spoke softly, subconsciously lifting your hand to your lips.

Hongjoong stared up at you for a moment and then smiled. “Ah, yeah. But you were so out of it. You passed out on my shoulder right after you made out with me.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh my god, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, no. It's okay,” he swallowed, looking a bit nervous. “I…want to take care of you when you're drunk, and when you're sick, and when you're depressed. I want to hold you while you have your panic attacks—even though I wish I could take them all away.”

You sat and listened, watching the way his eyes bounced around the room as the food got cold. It wasn't even a thought in your mind as he told you he loved you without even saying the three words.

“I want to go through everything with you. Good, bad, whatever. As long as it's with you,” his eyes met yours then. “And as long as I can kiss you whenever.”

You picked apart his expression—his eyes were glassy and his lips were parted. His smile was a bit worrisome, as if he wasn't sure you wanted what he did. You smiled then, and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“I’ll be expecting showers of kisses,” you smirked, kissing his lips like they were made for you. “And shower sex. I love shower sex.”

He laughed musically, his voice always so soothing to you. You knew that your time in this house was ending, as this was the last year before graduation. You weren't sure what time had planned for you, but you hoped it was him. 

There’s a time for everything. Your time with hongjoong was predetermined by fate. He was your soulmate if they existed. He was your sun, your moon, your universe. You spun around him like the moon to its earth, orbiting his existence like it was your destiny.

—

two years later,

Halloween Night

You stood on the steps of the townhouse, your phone clutched tight in your hands and a bag of candy in the other. Your heart ached the same way your feet did from all your running around at the hospital, your mind falling apart at its seam.

You stared at the red door, decorated with a festive autumnal wreath with the letters of your names. 

You pushed through the door, your senses in overdrive as the smell of apples took over as a candle burned on the table. Sitting next to it was pumpkin, staring at the flame, and then at you, letting out a meow.

It was two years since you got with hongjoong. Two years before you graduated. Two years before you got swamped in work, having a hard time balancing work and romance.

You and hongjoong kept the house, deciding it was your home. You had nowhere else to go if he wasn't with you, and you graduated in love and in bliss.

Two years later, a mess of love and homemade meals, watching movies together, commuting together, sleeping together, you had a ring on your finger, a permanent mark of your love that would last forever.

You weren't planning anything—you let life take the reins. The love of your life stood in the living room, in his hands was a single rose from the mini mart—the same type of shitty rose you bought for him to ruin your relationship. Clearly it failed, as he stood, love in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“Hi, angel,” he whispered, his hair no longer orange. It was his natural black, grown out and curled around his ears. He was beautiful in every way, a knight in shining armor, holding out a decaying rose as the leaves fell from the trees beyond the window. “Happy two years.”

You scoffed, setting down the bag of candy onto the table next to pumpkin. “A rose?”

“Mhm,” he murmured, smiling brightly. 

“Why?” you inquired jokingly, walking closer to him.

He smiled prettily, his heart upon his sleeve. You watched him study you, look at every part of you. He loved you dearly, and as did you. You got a bit of butterflies from the deja vu, lost in the ocean of his eyes and drowning in the sea of his love.

He held out the rose.

“Because you're the love of my life.”